#but my birthday was so near that she bought a commission

[furoruisa]

[cressidagrey]

I breathe flames each time I talk - Chapter 3

Summary:

The story of how Oriana Fireborn Belmont finally meets her mate's family.

Also the story of how Rhysand, The High Lord of the Night Court, finally recognises that by the cauldron, there is no fury like a female scorned.

Azriel would just like everybody to get along.

Warnings:

Rhys Bashing, Serious Injury

Notes:

I put a lot of world building into this. If you don't recognise it from canon, I probably invented. Or I forgot that canon existed.

(thanks to @firefly-graphics for the super pretty dividers!)

I found him. He’s…will be alright. We need to talk. 

That was all Cassian had said. It was something. Something eased in Rhys at these words. even when they still made him wonder. 

What…what did Cassian mean? Where was Azriel that Rhys couldn’t reach him but Cassian could? What…

They were all milling around in the Garden of the River House, waiting for Cassian, because he had needed to admit to Mor and Amren what was going on, and Feyre and even Nesta had come down to wait for her mate’s return. She was playing with Nyx, softening for the boy in a way she only rarely did for any of the adults. 

Nyx was playing the glowing ball that Azril had bought him for his birthday that day. Fast becoming a favourite toy for his son, who loved the way the colours would shift. 

And then Cassian landed in the garden where they had all converged. Rhys could just stare at his sudden appearance. 

Nesta was the one who voiced it. 

“Cassian, what happened to your hair?” she asked, incredulously. Cassian’s thick dark hair, normally pulled back into a knot at the base of his neck was…non-existent. At least half of it. 

“Long story,” Cassian gave back, his voice dark. “I still have my eyebrows, right?”

“Is that a question you need to ask?” Feyre asked with some amusement. “Yes, you have.”

“Where did you find Azriel?” Rhys demanded and Cassian turned towards him. 

“At his house. He’ll be out of commission for at least a week…rather plan 10 days,” Cassian said evenly. That was not what Rhys had wanted to hear, but it was better than what he had half expected. 

“Did you bring him to Madja?” He asked and Cassian glowered. 

“As I wasn’t about to kidnap him from his mate, no.” He bit out those words and Rhys blinked. 

“What?” he asked, hoarsely. His mate? Azriel had a mate? Since when? How? Who? 

When had that happened? He hadn’t…He hadn’t heard a single thing about that, hadn’t had one bloody inkling. Azriel had kept it a secret, hadn’t he? A secret from him even, locked away from his daemati abilities. 

“So you didn’t know. I was wondering,” Cassian said, harshly. 

“Azriel has a mate?” Feyre finally managed to bring out. “Since when?” 

“Did you know?” Mor asked Cassian, who shook his head. 

“Did you really think I was going to pair him off with some random florist if I knew that he had a mate? No, I didn’t know,” Cassian assured her. “I was…shocked.”

“That still doesn’t explain the hair,” Nesta said quietly. Cassian sighed, touching the hair with a near grievous expression. 

“Yeah, it does. She burned it off me.”

Rhys could just stare. Yeah, the hair was singed off rather than cut off now that he looked at it. But…how.

“She burned off your hair,” he repeated flatly. What? 

Why had she done it? How had she done it? 

It was Cassian . Lord of Bloodshed, General of the Night Court’s Armies. And some random female had…gotten him to hold still somehow to burn off his hair?!

“In her defence, I deserved it after I forced my way through her wards…and held a knife to her throat,” Cassian waved him off. 

This story was getting more convoluted by the minute. 

He wasn’t the only one who had that feeling. 

Amren, the voice of reason, finally cut in. 

“Start at the beginning,” she demanded sharply. 

“Azriel didn’t show up at our weekly meeting today. Rhys couldn’t reach him mentally either,” Cassian explained. “So I went to check on his house. After I walked around the forest for five minutes, because the ward had an enchantment on it that deflects you away…I thought I was very smart if I forced my way through the ward…” Rhys’s eyebrows rose at that. He had never even heard about an enchantment like that being worked into a ward. It spoke of paranoia more than anything. 

“And did you?” Nesta asked, sounding impatient. 

“Yes,” Cassian said with a sigh. “That’s how I got my hair singed off. I got through though and…tackled Azriel’s mate to the ground. Though I didn’t realise that she was his mate then. And then I held a knife to her throat that she melted out of my hand.“

He threw said knife in Rhys’ direction who caught it. It wasn’t even similar to a knife anymore, just a cooled-down hunk of metal in a roughly puddle-like shape. He could just stare at it, turn it around in his hands.  

“How did she even do that?” Mor asked, staring at it. “What is she?” It was supposed to be a rhetorical question. 

Cassian answered nonetheless.

“Half Autumn Court High Fae, Half Tartera,” he said. Rhys’s head snapped up at that. 

He had only heard of one singular female that had that very specific pairing as parents. 

“She said her name is Oriana. Surname Fireborn or Belmont, depending on who I asked.”

Oh. 

No. 

It was Amren that started laughing, a sound so unexpected that they all turned to stare at her, even when she waved them off. 

“Well, isn’t that a surprise,” she finally said, amusement blending into her voice. “The Third daughter of the First Daughter. Oriana Fireborn and our very own Shadowsinger.”

Rhys swallowed as he remembered the only time he had ever met Oriana Fireborn. 

Quite frankly, he would have been fine if that stayed a singular experience in his very long life.

“You know her?” Mor asked curious, Amren just nodded. 

“Good for you that you survived Little Flames’ Fire,” she told Cassian. “Not everybody is that lucky.”

“Little Flame?” Feyre asked, sounding a mix between amused and fascinated. 

“Cyra calls her that,” Amren said with a shrug. 

“You call the Custodian of the Mountain Cyra,” Mor repeated, sounding unbelieving. Amren shrugged. 

“We have tea sometimes…every few years,” Amren waved her off. 

“Who are you talking about?” Feyre asked. 

Right. He didn’t think he had ever even thought to talk to her about the Tartera. Mostly they kept to themselves, so there wasn’t a need for it. And he had gladly let Amren handle all of that.  

“The Tartera Faeries live in the mountains surrounding Velaris,” Amren beat him to explain it. “They are known for their…smithing work. The most expensive jewellery you’ll ever see is made by them.”

“We have a treaty with them of sorts,” Rhys explained.  “They have custody of the mountain. They pay taxes. For that, we leave them alone and mostly in peace, a self-governing colony.” It was more complicated than that. There were rules in that treaty, about protection and what Rhysand could and couldn’t expect from them. But they were peaceful folk who could be quite welcome to other species of faeries and High Fae if they had the opportunity. And they looked after the mountain and the Eternal Flame and kept mostly to themselves. 

It was a mutually beneficial agreement for both sides. 

“I…Don’t we need to keep an eye on them?” Feyre wondered. “I…You never even mentioned them.”

“They are quite peaceful,” Amren said with a shrug. “They are a matriarchal society. Cyra is their leader. She has them very well in hand and stands for nothing that we wouldn’t allow. If anything…she is stricter about it. They worship the Eternal Flame, after the legends gifted to them by the Mother herself. And they are very happy to stay in their mines and make money hand over fist. They haven’t been involved in any war in millennia .” 

This was a good thing because Rhys was quite sure that Pyrithian would fall if they left their mountain to make war. 

“They make art, not war. Let other creatures make war, let Tartera marry. It’s their two mottos of sorts,” he recounted. 

“This is going to have some interesting ramifications,” Amren thought aloud, tapping a finger against her chin. “Oriana Firebron is Cyra’s granddaughter. The Third daughter of her heiress Adara. The Third Daughter of the First Daughter.”

“What does that mean?” Feyre asked. 

“It means that Azriel is mated to a bloody princess,” Cassian said with a snort and a shake of his head. “Only he would manage to do that.”

 “The only half-fae of all her daughters,” Amren said. “And admittedly, the most powerful one.”

Yeah, that wasn’t up for discussion. All three daughters were powerful in their own way but Oriana had an edge over her two sisters, even when he had met her at 18. Now….200 years later, he wondered into what that pure magical power had grown. 

It must be a sight to behold. 

“She is a magical powerhouse, I wouldn’t bet against her,” Cassian said with a shrug. 

“How is Azriel?” he asked, changing the topic, because he had no clue how to deal with these new developments. 

Oriana Fireborn. Of all the Faes in Pyrithian…this was the one that…turned out to be Azriel’s mate.

“Azriel is unconscious and currently in a healing trance, which I have never even heard about,” Cassian said, his voice carefully even. “He had multiple points of inner bleeding and lost consciousness at her, which in turn made her think that he was going to die. He didn’t. She got him a healer. She pretty much dotes on him,” he said with a shrug. “It’s cute. Even when she’s fucking terrifying.”

“Why?” Feyre asked, curiously, looking surprised at that assessment from Cassian. 

“You have ever seen a Tartera Fairie, Feyre?” Cassian asked her. Feyre nodded carefully.

“Mostly I just see shadows…their eyes are like glowing coals,” his mate responded hesitantly.

“Imagine a High Fae with skin the colour of coal and eyes that aren’t glowing coals but are literal flames that move,” Cassian said with a shake of his head. “She’s scary. Believe me. Even when she’s…nice, I suppose.” 

Rhys had a few other words to describe her. 

“So what happened to your favourite jacket 200 years ago when you had a meeting with the Custodian of the Mountain?”

He couldn’t help but shudder at Cassian’s question. 

“Yes, Rhysand, let’s talk about that diplomatic incident,” Amren said drily. “When you decided that my advice was clearly unneeded and you knew so much better.”

“Let’s not talk about it,” he suggested. 

Cassian just shrugged. “I’ll ask her then. Oriana said she would let me know when Azriel was awake and talking again.”

That was good. “Anything else?” Rhys asked. 

“Yes,” Cassian said tightly.“What exactly happened that solstice, Rhysand?”

Right. 

His breath caught in his throat at that question. 

“I do not know what you are talking about,” he answered carefully. He wasn't planning to tell Cassian what exactly had gone down. Especially not with the rest of his family in earshot. But Cassian was clearly a dog with a bone. 

“Don’t lie to me,” Cassian snapped. “You and Azriel have been on the odds with each other for the better part of three years. Ever since that cauldron-forsaken solstice.” It was true. For Azriel at least. Rhys hadn’t been angry with his brother. But clearly, Azriel was. 

“Oriana asked me a question. Actually two,” Cassian changed the topic suddenly and Rhys just stared at him.

“And what does it matter?” he asked. What did it matter what kind of question Oriana Fireborn decided to ask Cassian? 

“She’s our brother’s mate . It matters,” Cassian cut him off. “The first was that maybe I should think about why Azriel wouldn’t tell any of us that he found his mate,” Cassian pointed out. “He’s a private person, we know that. But Azriel and Oriana have clearly been together for more than a few days. or even weeks. It has been at least a month or two. Long enough that she moved in with him, that she turned his house into a home…that he buys table linens for them and that she wears one of his shadows as a fucking necklace.”

Oh dear. 

Azriel’s shadows had taken a liking to her. 

They were all going to die. 

“So that was the first. Why didn’t Azriel tell us?” Cassian continued. “And then the second question was who exactly had told Azriel that if he wanted to have sex, he should go to a pleasure hall and pay for it.”

He could feel the colour leech out of his face, as Feyre reached for Nyx, but he said nothing.   

“ I didn’t tell him that Rhys. So who did?” Cassian demanded. 

“You don’t know the context of that,” he finally said quietly, a shocked gasp coming from either Mor or Feyre.” 

“Oh no, I don’t,” Cassian agreed, his voice so even that he must be forcefully restricting everything he was feeling because his siphons were glowing in a dully red. “But I can guess…So Rhysand. What happened at that solstice? What had it to do with Elain and what exactly did you tell Azriel?” he spat out the words into Rhys’ face.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said quietly. It didn’t. Azriel had met his mate and was clearly happy with her, so…whatever he had said about Elain…that was water long under the bridge…right? 

“It matters,” Cassian snapped. “I wanna know why my brother, who I love…why he didn’t think that he could trust me with meeting his mate. With the most precious thing in his life. Why he kept her a secret? Not because of privacy…but because he was terrified, Rhys! Why else would Azriel keep her a secret? He kept her a secret from us. To protect her. Why would he feel like he needed to protect his mate? From us? From his family?”

He couldn’t help but flinch. 

“Why would Azriel do that? Unless you did something. Unless he thought that he needed to protect his mate from you ?” 

“It was nearly three years ago,” Rhys protested, but Cassian wasn’t having it. 

“Yes, and it still matters. So tell me. Right now. WHAT HAPPENED AT THAT SOLSTICE?” Cassian’s voice boomed and Rhys knew that…he wasn’t going to get out of this now. 

“Azriel…Azriel fancied himself in love with Elain,” he said carefully. “And that Solstice…I found the two of them seconds away from…” he trailed off. 

“From what?” Nesta demanded. 

“Well, he wasn’t calmly explaining his feelings to her,” he snapped right back. “Lucien was literally upstairs. Anybody would have walked in. So I ordered Azriel to come to my office.”

“And then?” Cassian asked, still glaring at him. 

“Then I told him not to pursue her,” he admitted quietly. It was quiet. “She was a mated female. If this was going to go wrong, we would have been at war with Autumn and with Day. Lucien could have called a blood duel,” he tried to explain. 

“Azriel would have won,” Cassian said, crossing his arms. Maybe he would have. Maybe he didn’t. 

“I couldn’t take the risk of that,” he said quietly. 

“So you told him not to pursue her,” Nesta repeated and he realised that..well. That wasn’t the whole truth. 

“No, I ordered him,” Rhys said quietly.  

“You ordered him,” Cassian spat out the words. 

He just nodded. “And Azriel is still moping around that. So that happened.”

“So when exactly did you tell him to go to that pleasure hall?” Nesta asked sharply. “Before or after you ordered him away from the woman he loved?”

“He didn’t love her,” Rhys corrected her. “And that was after. If he needed to get that out of his system, he could do that in a way that wasn’t going to put our Court at risk. And besides, it clearly all worked out, he found his mate, Elain is happy with Lucien,” he added.

Cassian just stared at him, as Nesta huffed. 

“Right,” Cassian agreed, sarcasm bleeding from every word. “I am going to go home now, Rhys. Before I wring your fucking neck where your son will see that.”

He was surprised by the venom that coated every word.  

“He’s our brother, Rhysand. Our brother,” Cassian ranted.

“He was acting completely irrational,” Rhys hit back. Azriel hadn’t even thought about the consequences of his actions. Of what it could mean for Pyrithian at large. 

“He was in love!” Cassian disagreed sharply. 

“He was infatuated, he wasn’t in love,” Rhys snapped, his temper finally flaring. “What was I supposed to do, Cassian? Let him go and kill Lucien and put us at war with two Courts? Was I supposed to do that?!”

“If Lucien had called a Blood Duel, that wouldn’t have resulted in a war!” Cassian snapped.  “If Lucien had called a blood duel, everybody would have known what he agreed to. Death is literally the result of that. Autumn wouldn’t have gone to war for a son that wasn’t really Beron’s in the first place!  And for Helion? You think he would have started a war because his son was stupid enough to call a Blood Duel that he could just lose?”

He had never thought about it, quite like that. 

“And Rhys…Azriel wasn’t infatuated with Elain. He loved her,” Cassian said quietly. “Azriel would have defied every damn Court for you. He did it for you. You brought home Feyre to us and he would have gone to the ends of the earth for her. Because he knew how important she was to you ! And I could maybe forgive you for all of that…but to tell Azriel to go to a pleasure hall to find somebody to fuck because clearly, nobody else would want him? How could you say that?” Cassian asked him.  

“I didn’t say that,” he defended himself. “I didn’t say that.”

“You know that that is how he understood it. That he would need to pay for sex because he’s so disgusting that that is the only way he could get somebody to pretend to care for him. That’s how he understood it, Rhys,” Cassian hissed. “We both know him, Rhys. We know how he gets. How he thinks that he is never good enough, regardless of what he does. And you said that to him!” 

He swallowed. Cassian’s words were hitting something deep in him, something that he didn’t like to think about too much, and didn't like to reflect on. It was…

“You know, Oriana warned me that if she found out who told Azriel that, she was going to put them on fire. I told her I would hold them down for her,” Cassian said with a laugh that didn’t sound amused in the slightest. “So Rhys ... just leave Azriel alone. Leave me alone. And for cauldron’s sake, leave Oriana alone unless you want her to burn you to a fucking crisp.” He flinched at these words. “And I highly doubt that that is a idle threat from her.”

And then Cassian stomped away, Nesta hot on his heels. And he was left there sitting in the grass, staring at his son sitting in Feyre’s lap. 

Feyre was looking at him, blue eyes wide and shining with something, her mouth set in a firm line. 

“Feyre,” he choked out. 

“Don’t,” she cut him off, harshly. “I am just going to say something that I am going to regret later.”

[angelamajiki]

PAIRINGS: Father! Yandere! Enji Todoroki x Daughter! Reader

CW: yandere, incest, soulmate AU, fluff, slight angst, nsfw, kissing, praise kink, virginity kink, size kink, bathroom sex

A BNHarem Collab!

AN: my longest piece to date! the prompt this month was sex work, so i decided to stretch the prompt and do sexual slavery. wanted to go for a softer version of daddy endeavor, so please enjoy <3

5.2k words

The mark on his wrist was one that was shared with yours. Enji had given up on finding his soulmate, deciding that his career and legacy were far more important than some silly marking on another’s body. Love was something he thought he could go without. But when he saw your bright eyes gaze up at him, your chubby hand wrapped around his index finger, his heart had fallen hard—such a sweet, gentle thing. No traces of fear, of disdain, of disgust for him as a human being. Just pure curiosity and unconditional love. His heart leaped for his little girl.

Enji was determined, then and there, that he would never fail you, not like he forgot the others.

Oh, what plans he had for you, his precious princess. He couldn’t wait to spoil you, to marry you and start a new family once you were old enough. Rei realized this as well. Her youngest daughter, her last hope at salvaging her broken family, was to be had by her husband. The thought frightened her, especially after seeing the adoring look in her husband's eyes when she saw him cradle you for the first time. It was so unlike the stoic nature he held for the other children when they were born, only caring to see that they were healthy before leaving off back to his agency, never giving them more than a fleeting touch. It was nothing like when he held you, snarling at any nurse who dared to take his soulmate from the grips of his arms.

Something that had Enji’s conviction more so than his career was something to be feared. Your mother swore to herself that she would not let her husband ruin you.

Once he fell asleep with you tucked in the crook of his arm, a social worker came and collected you to be sent to a foster home and be set up for adoption. It was better than falling into the hands of the monster of a husband.

After the death of Touya, the pair decided to have one more child in hopes of fixing their broken family, but Rei now knew it was for naught. Nothing could save them know, especially now that Enji had nearly burned the building down when he discovered that his little girl was gone, just hours after he had finally found you.

Rei alerted the commission as well for your protection, that utter bitch of a woman. They very well couldn't have the number two hero caught in an incestuous bond with his daughter, now could they. All information of your whereabouts was hidden from him, blacklisting him from working with any foster children, lest he loses his hero license. Enji may have lost you for the time being, but his patience grew as he did. They couldn't keep him from you forever. You'd be reunited one day; he knows it.

The first time he saw you again was when you were fifteen. It was your birthday and the day he had become the number one hero officially, plenty of reason to celebrate. Usually, he would have taken the time to sit near the rose bush he planted in your honor in his courtyard on your birthday, renewing his vows to find and love you to the best of his ability. Enji took great pride in keeping your memory alive with the bush for his beautiful little rose gone too soon from his grasp. But there you were, mere meters from him.

The foster home you stayed at took you out for dinner when he was meeting with Hawks after the billboard awards. Your eyes were unmistakable, a perfect cerulean just like his own. He was so close, yet so far. My, how you had grown since he saw you. Unlike him, you bore your mark proudly on your wrist, not ashamed to admit to the world who your soulmate was. Not like you actually knew who it was anyway.

Enji was prepared to leave Hawks at the table; a new flame lit under his ass, one far more exhilarating than the thought of being the number one hero. He was up and on his way to speak to you before Nomu attacked him. Damn villains, they'd pay for separating the two of you once again. But his conviction only grew stronger. It wasn’t hard to find you after that; he knew what city you were living in. Instincts lashed out at him, demanding that he go sweep you up and hide you away. No, no. That would make you frightened; he can't have that. He’ll watch from the sidelines, waiting until you were of age to make a move. He was curious to see just how life as a foster child was treating you.

Growing up in the foster system had been a nightmare from hell for you. A cursed child is what they saw you as when your skin sprouted flames every time it was touched by the human hand, burning everything and everyone who came in contact with it. From the moment your quirk manifested, you were an outcast, an untouchable, unlovable freak. Someone destined never to feel the touch of their new parents, their lover, their soulmate.

It wasn't long before you realized that you would remain in the foster system until you aged out. Who would adopt a child they couldn't hug when they cried, hold their hand when they crossed the street, snuggle up to when it was chilly outside? Any potential parent was taken aback by your quirk once you reached for the warm touch of mommy and daddy, only to singe their hand or burn a hole in their shirt.

You learned quickly that your touch was something to be feared, that you were something to be feared. You supposed that’s why you looked up to him so much. So much so that you thought about him late at night when the loneliness seemed to drown you in the sea of your insecurities.

Endeavor was the only one who could understand you, understand your quirk. If only your soulmate mark could match him, maybe you feel the warmth of another human being without hurting or mauling them with your power. Abrasive he may be with the media, but there something about him that was so comforting and endearing to you. In your eyes, he was simply misunderstood, a gentle giant amongst the mass personalities of the other pro heroes.

Watching his interviews brought you comfort when you were lonely, his merchandise made you swell with pride and confidence, and his posters on the wall reminded you that you were never alone. It was a silly crush, but it made you feel better about your miserable life.

You even got to see him on your birthday! Well, not exactly. You happened to be in the same restaurant when your foster parents took you out for your birthday. It was apparent that they just felt bad for you, having looked after you for 15 years only to still have custody of your sorry ass. You were almost certain that they were going to kick you to the curb the morning of your 18th birthday.

Too bad they never had the chance. That fate would have been much kinder than the reality you faced now.

Once the Paranormal Liberation Front had effectively ripped society up by the roots and let the tree of life rot for the world to see, your foster parents packed their shit and left the country while you were at school. You’d been alone in the world ever since and were snatched off the streets, ready to be sold into slavery by the villains of the world. Your quirk was the only thing keeping you from being bought like a bitch from the auction floor.

Enji, on the other hand, was more than eager to do just that. After his public smear campaign by his allegedly dead son, he was dead to the world, finally abandoning his family for good in hopes of finding his beloved daughter. His life was dedicated to searching for you, having managed to track you down through his vigilante work. He likes to lie to himself and say that he’s continuing to fight for the greater good, but Enji does it just to have the chance to see your sweet face again. There wasn’t much to go off of, but he’d rather see his fiery end than to give up. That's how he found you at the auction.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

Another auction night was approaching, which meant another night of humiliation and being displayed like a slab of meat for a crowd of degenerate wolves. Your quirk was the only thing keeping you from being sold; no one wants a fucktoy they can’t touch. It reduced you to physical labor for your captors, but you were better fed because of it. That didn’t mean they still didn’t try to sell you.

After being stripped down into nothing but a collar, leash, and a muzzle, you were brought to the stage and shoved in front of the ravenous, roaring crowd. You could feel their stares seep into your bones, the grime from the floor on your bare feet only adding to the overwhelming sensation of disgust you couldn’t even begin to describe.

The crowd’s excitement was raucous, jeers and shouts echoing off the halls of the underground auditorium. Masks covered their faces for the sake of privacy lest a vigilante break-in and hunt them all down. Even in the lawlessness of the world, heroes were still crawling everywhere to trail after even the slightest scent of villainy. Doesn't mean they’ll win, but hey, the death of a hero is just the same as the auction was to them.

“Up next, a darling girl with a fiery quirk!”

That was your cue. A handler had a fierce grip on your leash, giving it a few tugs for good measure as the crowd laughed at your stumbling. The auctioneer began to list your qualities and physical attributes, including your quirk.

“And she’s a virgin!”

Added for good measure, the crowd fell silent after listening to the abilities of your quirk. You couldn't hate it anymore; it's what was keeping you from being someone’s onahole until the day you kicked the bucket.

“Can I get $10,000?”

Ah the starting bid. The silence was relieving. Just a few more moments and you'd be off that damn stage.

“No? Going once, going twice, going-”

“One million.”

A booming voice came from the back row, the depths of the shadows to further hide the masked man who just bought your life. Why did it sound so familiar?

“Outstanding! One million dollars for the young lady!”

“Going once.”

It couldn't be.

“Going twice.”

This can't be happening.

“Sold for one million!”

No!

You were supposed to be unwanted, just like you have been your entire life! Yet some mysteriously familiar man outbid the entire auction for little ol’ you.

“Off the stage, bitch.”

The handler snarled, yanking you off the stage and causing you the fall and bruise yourself in the process.

“Watch it!” He spat, picking you up by the roots of your hair. “The merchandise needs to be handled carefully before reaching the customer. Let's hope he doesn't mind some bumps and bruises. For your sake.”

“That won't be necessary; I'll be taking her as is. Immediately, if you will.”

The mysterious man stood had already made his way backstage and behind you, standing formidably over your stark form. Your hair was released, dropping you back to the floor.

“Excellent, sir! I’m more than happy to get this welp off my hands.”

A brief exchange was made while you recovered on the floor, shaking in fear as the situation weighed heavily on your already broken self. The handler took the money and returned to the back room, leaving the two of you alone together.

The stranger crouched down to you and extended a hand to brush the stray hair out of your face, touch remaining tender and gentle when you flinched harshly.

“My poor girl, what has the world done to you?”

His coat enveloped your body as he scooped you up in his arms. The scent of him comforted you more than you would have liked to admit. Teakwood and coffee grounds filled your senses as he held you flush against his chest, leaving the auction house with a renewed sense of vigor.

You were placed in the backseat of a car before he dressed you in simple pajamas.

“Rest. You deserve it.”

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

At some point in the car ride, you let yourself fall asleep only to wake up in a cozy king-size bed wrapped up in a soft blanket next to a warm fireplace. The false sense of comfort lulled you for a few moments before your situation hit you like a ton of bricks. The anxiety you'd had known your whole life had finally kicked back into gear, forcing you out of bed and into the rest of the house.

It was daybreak, the sunlight slowly trickling in through heavily curtained windows as you walked through the halls and into the kitchen. The man was standing over the stove, sans mask, dressed in a wife-beater and his pajama bottoms. It couldn't be-

“Come in; breakfast will be on the table in a moment.”

Now you were certain.

“Who are you?” Your voice barely above a whisper. “Why did you buy me at the auction?”

A deep, rumbling chuckle flowed from the man.

“I think you know the answer to that, little one.”

His focus was retained on the meal in front of him. “I’ll explain myself over breakfast. Now sit.”

You couldn't help but feel compelled to obey him. While sitting, you took the time to honestly look him over for the first time in your life. Never did you think you would be so close to your childhood crush in such a domestic setting.

He had noticeably greyed but still possessed a majority of his red hair. Muscles were still taught and budging, but he had grown a little bit of a belly. Endeavor was as handsome as ever, aged like a fine wine that you couldn't wait to sip on.

The food was placed in front of you as he took the test next to you.

“Eat and have some water. Then we’ll talk.”

Once again, you obeyed him without question and refrained from eating like a rabid animal. It wasn't even a question, so much so that it is evident that you hadn't had a decent meal in a long time. You were still muscular from the labor you did for your handlers, though.

And Enji liked that about you. How resilient you were, he loved that you inherited his strength but still possessed Rei’s gentle nature. Not that he wanted to credit that woman for anything, but he couldn't deny the obvious. You were his strong, beautiful little girl who had to endure so much because his bitch of a wife decided to separate you from him.

But he was here now, ready to give all his love and protection to his only love. It took everything in his power not to swoop you up from your seat and hold you in his arms until his last breath.

Enji watched you eat, pride swelling in his chest at the thought that you liked his cooking. He couldn't help but wonder what your favorite meals were as well. There's certainly all the time in the world to get to know his little girl now that he had you. And he was never going to let you go.

Your breakfast was devoured quickly, both out of desperation for a real meal and answers to your questions.

“Why did you buy me from the auction?”

It was a complicated question, but you wanted a simple answer.

“I’m your soulmate.” His wrist was on display as he reached across the table to hold your hand.

For the first time in your life, you felt safe. Your one, shining hope was meant to yours and he wanted to be yours. You didn't even question how he knew at all.

His touch was warm and slightly rough, but it was welcome all the same. Even though your skin was lit aflame at his flesh against your, he paid it no mind. He was built to take your quirk, to take you.

“Endeavor…”

“Please, call me Enji.” His thumb rubbed over the palm of your hand. “I’m sure you feel better after having something to eat.”

“Why don't you go take a bath? It’ll help you relax, I can take care of your dishes.”

It was strange how insistent he was on taking care of you, but you can't say you don't enjoy the attention. He seemed to care for you in a way that went beyond caring for a partner, or in your case, a soulmate. But who were you to judge? It wasn't like you had a lot of experiences to use as a comparison.

Making your way back to the bedroom, you took the time to study the house you were in. A traditional, well-kept home, it practically looked like it was untouched. And maybe it was; buildings and homes fully intact were hard to come by these days, let alone ones that were clean and warm.

Enji seemed to lull you into an instinctual sense of safety, even though he bought you out of slavery. Just because he was your soulmate didn't mean that he had good intentions for you, but somehow, his presence alone filled a void in your heart that you had forgotten was even there.

Once you made it to the bathroom connected to the master bedroom, you drew yourself a bath just like Enji had instructed you to do. It wasn't the wisest decision to let your guard down like this, but the man already had plenty of opportunities to fuck you up by this point.

The water was warm and inviting when you sank yourself into it; you couldn't remember the last time you had warm water to clean yourself with. It made you feel light and hazy, slipping into a headspace you had long forgotten—a place of safety and comfort.

Three raps on the door pulled you from your haze as Enji entered the bathroom with fresh towels. Despite the fact that he had already seen you naked, the intimacy of the situation only left you feeling more vulnerable than ever.

“Let me help you.”

He kneeled next to you outside of the tub and pulled a lavender chamomile shampoo from the tub’s shelf. There was room to protest, but you couldn't find yourself willing to do so.

Water was poured over your head before he started a lather in your hair, gently scrubbing your scalp for a while. Even this simple touch made you shudder, it was a long time since you last felt the warmth of someone’s touch. And everything about this man was warm, for you at least. His words, his touch, his heart.

Conditioner was added to your hair as well before he moved onto washing your body. The scrub was gentle across your skin, his hand following after it to help keep the suds from rising too much. Strong hands massaged your back and your neck, both of which needed the much-deserved relief.

“So tense.” He murmured, mostly to himself.

There was a comfortable silence shared between the two of you as he massaged out all the knots and kinks that had built up over the years with your handlers. His touch should have made you flinch but you found yourself pressing into it. A small moan escaped your lips as he worked through a particularly tender spot on your neck.

“Are you enjoying this?”

His lips ghosted your ear as warm breath tickled your cheek and neck.

Your face flushed with a fiery warmth from a combination of the steam, your embarrassment, and the man whispering sweet nothings in your ear as his hands worked at your tired skin.

“Let me help you relax, sweet thing.”

Enji picked you up momentarily to slot himself behind you in the tub. Placed on his lap, you gasped when you could feel his erection hard against your back. Fear started to trickle into your veins as you squirmed slightly, attempting to get out of his grasp.

“Shhh, it's alright, you're okay.” His hand made its way to your throat and rested there gently, stroking over your artery with his thumb. “I’m not going to hurt you, sweetheart. Let me show you how much I've missed you.”

His touch made you feel alive, feel wanted for the first time in your life. You couldn't help but whine when his other hand made its way down your body, gently groping your breast as his lips were pressed to your ear.

“Do you trust me to take care of you?”

His fingers toyed with your nipples, obviously skilled.

“Do you trust me to make the sweetest love to you?”

Another whine caught in your throat as his hand went further, cupping your sex in his much larger hand. He kneaded gently, pressing a soft kiss to your temple when you writhed in his grip.

“Please! Enji-”

Shushing you gently, Enji’s thumb made its way to your clit to stroke in small circles.

“How does that feel, sweetheart?”

You were used to touching yourself, but oh God it never felt like this.

“Good!” You managed to choke out in a wanton moan. “So good! Enji, please, I need-”

A warm pair of lips sealed over yours, silencing you once again. Enji knew how wrong this was, to take advantage of you like this without revealing the truth. But he wanted at least to just once to have you in his arms willingly and eagerly. He wanted to kiss you breathless, listen to your cries and feel your nails dig into his skin as he gave you all of himself without a fight from you. He can worry about revealing himself to you later.

The rough pads of his large fingers started to apply pressure to your clit as his middle finger slipped into your tight hole under the water.

“Don't worry, little one. I'll give you what you need.”

Soft kisses were trailed along your cheek and hand that was on his that was still holding your throat tenderly. Finger pumping in and out of you, Enji whispered sweet praises to you as he felt your hole clench around him.

“Doing so well for me, sweetheart.”

Your breathy moans and whines only served to harden his cock. He felt like a teenager all over again, closing to cumming just from the sound of your voice.

Another finger slipped into your tight core, careful not to overwhelm you too fast. It was obvious you'd hadn't been touched before, not even by yourself. You felt full but greedy for more of his touch.

“Deeper, Enji! Please, can you?”

You were babbling at this point, writhing in his lap as he fingered you nice and slow with thick digits. Enji hummed as he pressed further into, curling his fingers into your G-spot.

Your cry was loud as he began to abuse your most sensitive spot, fully squirming in his arms as tears of pleasure breached your eyes. The sensation was too overpowering for you, making you thrash and arch in his arms.

“Shh, you're okay, sweetheart. You're okay; I'm right here.”

His fingers continued to stroke in a curled fashion, thumb still circling over your twitching clit. Enji kissed you again, deeper and more fierce as he began to fuck you earnestly with his fingers.

“Cum for me, darling.”

Squealing, you gripped his forearm and cried helplessly into his mouth. The build was slow and intense, allowing your orgasm to wash over you in waves of pleasure rather than a blinding, quick light.

“E-Enji!” You wailed. “Enji!”

You shook in his arms, holding onto the larger man for dear life as you experienced your first orgasm. It seemed like Enji knew your body better than you did.

No words were exchanged between the pair of you, but you could feel the tension of your desired hanging thick in the air. This man was going to take your virginity, here and now.

Enji removed his hand from your throat and between your legs in order to maneuver you to sit facing forward in his lap.

“Are you ready for me?”

His honesty made you flush even more. Biting your lip nervously, you hesitated to answer. Were you ready? It wasn’t like you had much of choice; the man could very well take you by force if he so chose to. But you felt safe in his arms, safe with him.

“Let me help you, my love.”

Warm, large hands gripped your backside as he held you steady above his cock. Your hand reached down to line yourself up with his throbbing sex, lowering yourself down on it slowly.

It burned in the best way, stretching you out fully as you pressed your forehead against his chin.

“Good girl, taking my cock so well, darling.”

A pitiful whine left your throat at the praise, hands gripping the forearms that held you in place.

“Can...Can you hold me?” You whimpered. “Please?”

Enji’s arms enveloped you and pulled you flush against his, tucking your head into the crook of his neck as you continued to lower yourself onto his cock. Your breath tickled his ears, making him groan lowly once he bottomed out inside of you.

“Such a sweet girl you are, taking all of me on your first try.”

Another whine responded for you as you ground your hips down on his.

“E-Enji.” You whimpered his name over and over again like a prayer. “Enji!”

“Be still, little one.” Hands back on your hips, holding you in place near the tip of his girthy length. “Let me take care of you.”

Hips in place, the man began to thrust up into you slowly, holding you tight as he stood up from the water. You only gripped and nuzzled yourself into him further, letting out sweet whines and whimpers into his ear while he thrust into you.

Your back was placed against the cool tile of the wall when he tilted your chin up to meet his gaze. Even in this position, he was still at least another head taller than you.

“Look at me when I make love to you.”

Through wet eyelashes, you gazed up at his eyes and let your mouth hang open as he rolled his hips into yours. His eyes shut briefly when he moaned, hissing at the feeling of your wet cunt hugging his cock so well.

“You were made to take my cock, little one.”

Arms reached up to wrap around his neck as he thrust into you, taking his time to make his strokes slow and deep. His hips were flush against yours when you asked him, “Kiss me, please? I want all of you Enji.”

Your bold proclamation stunned him for a moment before yielding, placing a deep kiss and a hot tongue against your lips.

His thrusts became faster as he kissed you with more passion and vitality. For an old man, he certainly had his stamina up to par. Your fingers thread through his red and grey tresses, tugging him closer to you gently as you moaned shamelessly into his mouth.

The pleasure in your core was more intense, fiercer this time around as his thrusts became hard and fast. The sounds of both of your moans and skin slapping against skin echoed off the tiled bathroom walls as the both of you felt your orgasms coming.

“Enji, fuck!” You whined, beginning to squirt on his fast-paced cock. “I-I’m cumming; I’m cumming!”

“Cum for me, princess.”

With a choked sob, you creamed yourself all over his cock, which continued to pound into your hole before he groaned your name and came deep inside you.

Nothing but the sounds of the water sloshing and your labored breathing could be heard as you both came down from your highs.

After a moment of rest, Enji pulled out and wrapped you in a towel before laying you gently on the bed. A towel was wrapped around his own waist as he looked at you fondly, brushing stray hairs out of your eye sight as he sat next to you on the bed.

“I must ask, how did you end up at the auction site?”

What a loaded question, but the intimacy you two shared allowed for it.

“I was kidnapped off the streets after my parents abandoned me when the prison break happened.”

He sighed gruffly and took your hand in his.

“What utter fools, tossing aside a beautiful rose such as yourself.”

His thumb traced over your soulmate mark. You still had yet to know how he knew before ever meeting you.

“It's alright; I never considered them my family. I just wish I could have met mine, but at least I met my soulmate.”

A crinkled smile adorned his face.

“You've done more than meet them.”

What could that have meant?

“I’m your father and your soulmate, little one.”

A rock hit the pit of your stomach as you retracted your hand from his.

“That isn't a funny joke, I'm serious.”

“So am I.” His hand was quick to snatch your back. “What could I possibly gain from lying to you?”

“P-Prove it.”

“Our soulmate marks, I saw yours the moment you were born in the Hosu hospital before my wife separated us all those years ago. I can recite your birthday if you'd like me to, for good measure.”

Fuck, he really wasn't lying. A lump formed in your throat as tears sprung in your eyes.

“Why would you do this to me?” You whispered, barely even able to hear yourself.

“Because I love you. I love you so much, sweetheart. Ever since I saw you for the first time in the hospital, my entire life has changed because of you. All I ever wanted was you.”

Enji was quick to shush your cries, using his free hand to wipe your tears away.

“Will you forgive me for being selfish?”

The disgust and horror filled everyone of your senses, especially when you came to a realization that he was everything you've ever wanted.

What came out of your mouth next stunned the both of you.

“You can apologize by begging on your knees and cleaning me up with your tongue, Daddy.”

TAGLIST: @tomurasprincess @bonesoftheimpala @sightoru @cxnicalsweetheart

[miekasa]

hey do you have a layout of the apartment that eren and reader share in "nice"? or maybe just random pictures that remind you of it? i really wanna see if i've been imagining it right

Here is my attempt at making a floorplan for their apartment and it was harder than I thought 😭😭 don’t ask me about dimensions or scale bc <2 just know that... it’s unreasonably big and the total cost of the whole thing is like $65 million which doesn’t even include the furniture or art they’ve put in since living there. Anyway, this is the general layout of the first floor, intended to look something like the Van der Woodsen’s apartment in Gossip Girl so you can also look at that! Might do the second floor later, but all that’s really up there is Eren and OC’s bedrooms (they’ll probably renovate Eren’s sooner or later) and ensuite, another balcony, and a smaller office. 

Basically, it’s very kinda open concept space design whatever you call it. Anyway, here are some fun facts about their apartment/living arrangement!

Eren designed the majority of the apartment. It came with a lot of furniture, but he switched them out and played a big part in the renovation.

Remember, the original plan was for Eren to live in his childhood apartment (now Carla’s apartment) when Carla moved to Paris full-time; he bought this one for the two of you to live in, and it was a surprise present. He doesn’t have the knack for making clothes like his mom, but he does have a knack for designing, and he’s pretty good at interior design. 

It’s mentioned in the fic, but the elevator opens up into their apartment because it’s the penthouse. No, not just anybody can come up, you have to scan a card or be on their list to get let up by the doorman. 

There is nothing in that storage closet but packages that they keep forgetting to open lmfaooo. Maybe a few extra winter coats and random shit. 

Those statues are actually relatively new. They were a gift from Mitchell (Carla’s husband) for their wedding; he had them commissioned from an artist friend he knew in Paris. They aren’t of you and Eren (that would be a little creepy), but they represent each other. 

Eren keeps buying art just because it matches the decor and he knows that art is like a status symbol or whatever. He doesn’t know what it means, but if he likes it (or if you mention you likes it), he buys it. 

That kitchen is a dream which is funny because Eren can barely cook. Mikasa can tho, so thank fuck for her. Eren can and has fit into that pantry. 

All the plants are fake because Eren has allergies. Also because he does not have a green thumb. You guys periodically change them out for the season, and the only time a real plant is in the apartment is during Christmas. 

Armin burned himself trying to use the fireplace once and hasn’t even stepped foot near it since; he doesn’t even sit on the twin chairs near it, only the sectional because he’s a big baby. 

Coffee table #1 is the more functional one; it’s where they sit and eat, lounge, drink wine, use their laptops, so there’s usually a bunch of stuff on it. Coffee table #2 is more for show; it’s made of glass has books on it, and a candle, too. 

Whenever you fall asleep on the daybed, Eren always carries you upstairs. Similarly, he knows you’re prone to napping on the daybed, so (before getting married), whenever he felt that you were working too hard/too long on schoolwork, he would tell you work there, just bc he knew you would fall asleep. 

There isn’t a symbol for it, but there is a big set of sliding doors that can close the dining room, but it’s always open (they usually eat at the bar anyway). They always host Thanksgiving dinner at their house, but they don’t throw a lot of formal parties otherwise. They do have their friends over a bit, and they randomly show up sometimes, so they keep the extra seating around. 

Eren loves the pool, and he loves dragging you into it. The outdoor grill legitimately only gets used by Connie whenever he has a grilling kick in the middle of the summer, what the fuck does Eren know about grilling other than it seems sick to have one. 

The outdoor “bar” doesn’t actually have alcohol stocked in it. The terrace is pretty secure, no drunk person could accidentally just fall off of it, but you still don’t like the idea of having drinks accessible out there. It’s mostly sodas and fruit juices. Occasionally you and Eren sit outside with a glass of champagne or two, but nothing more than that. 

The guest bedroom hardly gets used because your guests are obsessed with the sectional, so they usually fall asleep there. The only people who like the bed are Mikasa, Reiner, and Sasha. 

The atelier was, obviously, designed with Carla in mind. She does have her own apartment in the city, but Eren put this one in for her anyway (way before the events of NICE happened; which only goes to show that even though Eren is mad at his mom for her marriages, he never hated her and always sought to take care of her). It doubles as a fitting room and powder room of sorts. 

Eren has never used the first floor bathroom. 

The art at the end of the hallway was done by Jean, and was originally a gift for your birthday, but offered to pay him and value you it like real, expensive art. Eren claims that was a waste of money. You just have to point to any random object in the house to humble him about “wasting money.” 

[romewritingshop]

I’m a Dad

Fandom: Choices, Open Heart, AU

Relationship: Dr. Ethan Ramsey X F!MC (Name: Alyssa Brooks)

Warnings: Fluff, slight angst, mentions of birth complications, Alan is okay no need to panic 😅, anxieties of fatherhood, slight injury (nothing gruesome).

Rating: 12+ Word Count Total: 3209

AN: This is a birthday commission for @tsrookie who wanted a fic of dad!Ethan. I hope this is what you wanted and enjoy. The song that inspired this was Michele Morrone’s Dad (Accoustic Version):

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2cDNO--sPgE

I wanted to portray the significance of Alan in Ethan and Alyssa’s lives. It was emotional writing this 🥺.

Rome’s Birthday Celebration Masterlist 2021

CHOICES MASTERLIST

Tagged: @eleanorbloom @juliafranquet @me-and-my-choices @drethanramslay @choicesficwriterscreations @queencarb @miss-smrxtiee @melaninnntae @they-callme-ami @openheartfanfics @mvalentine @starrystarrytrouble @drariellevalentine @nikki-2406 @caseyvalentineramsey @kiara-36 @choicesreal @sophxwithers @brightningstar @tsrookie @gryffindordaughterofathena @arnikki-2406 @mercury84choices ​@theinvisibledreamergirl @stygianflood @ethansramsey

A blissful silence settled in the room as Ethan tossed his house keys onto the kitchen countertop. Flicking the switches as the lights turned on in his house. A large suburban white painted house that he and Alyssa bought a few years ago. Ethan’s eyes wandered around the living room, taking in the quiet. Alyssa wasn’t home yet which gave Ethan the time to head to his study. Clambering up the stairs and going to the first door on his left, a spacious room with forest green walls. A metal case of shelves with wooden baskets filled with stationary, was diagonally placed in the corner to the door. Directly opposite the door was a mahogany table with a cushioned wheeled office chair.

To the left of the door, was a red and green small plastic table and bench. Crayons and pencils were scattered on the table and floor, there were sheets of coloured papers with indiscernible scribbles. The furrow in Ethan’s eyebrows relaxed as he slipped off his black cashmere jacket and hung it on a hook to the left of him. Crouching by the small kids table and glanced at the drawings, noting the curved shapes to be attempts at writing. Writing what exactly? He wasn’t too sure. 

Nathan and Savannah were the smartest kids he knew. Why wouldn’t they be though, since their parents were the acclaimed doctors of Bloom Edenbrook’s diagnostics team. Ethan put their drawings in a woven basket which had a label of ‘kids’, he held onto all the crayons and pencils and placed them in their respective labelled pots. Placing the pots in their woven basket and placing their basket on top of the shelf unit. Alyssa probably didn’t have time to tidy up their mess because they were spending the afternoon and evening with Alyssa’s friends.

Maybe now was a good time to get started on his project as he pulled out a basket and took out a few sheets of thick matte paper and an envelope. Bringing them over to his desk and seating himself, opening a drawer in his desk. He took out a few ink pens and placed the pens next to his paper, his eyes darted to the wooden picture frame of Alyssa and their three kids: Allison, Nathan and Savannah. He still couldn’t believe that he was theirs, and they were his. It was only yesterday, when he and Alyssa were in the reception, treating for a thoracotomy and now they had a house and kids.

Ethan knew what he had to do as soon as he brought his pen to the paper, the words flew right through him as he wrote. The memories of his kids flooding his brain with a warm familiar glow.

~~~~~~

“Out of the way!”

Ethan rushed down the stairs, shoving past nurses and doctors before slamming the corridor door open to the maternity ward. Sienna was hot on his heels as he growled and grimaced at people, his eyes went to the pager as a message from Naveen popped up. ‘4cm dilated’. Ethan was close as he weaved through a never ending maze of Edenbrook’s corridors. In the distance he spotted Naveen, his dad Alan, and his daughter Allison were looking into the window of one of the maternity rooms.

“Ethan! There you are!”

“Daddy!”

His crinkled grumpy face relaxed at the sight of Allison. Five years old with a knack for mischief and a carbon copy of himself. She had his eyes and ears but Alyssa’s nose, lips and hair. Alan was taking care of Allison while Ethan and his wife were working, however, Alyssa’s contraction pains strengthened and her constant lavatory needs indicated that she needed to be checked in. Naveen came up to stand beside Ethan; who took Allison into his arms.

“Naveen, how is she?”

“Well the contractions are hurting and I have a feeling the babies are coming now. Dr. Delarosa is in there with her. Are you ready Ethan?”

Ethan gave a nod as he turned to Allison, a calm gentle smile reserved for her.

“Time to get your new siblings. You okay to wait here with Uncle Naveen and Grandpa?”

“Yeah! Uncle Naveen is buying me chocolate!”

Ethan quirked a brow at his mentor, who in return stuck with a confident grin before Ethan placed Allison down. Naveen clasped his hand around her tiny hand and led her to the staff break room, whilst listening to her ramblings about her new siblings. Ethan took a deep breath as Alan stepped up to rest his hand on his shoulder.

“I’m proud of you, son.”

Ethan smiled and was about to step into the room, when something held him still. His buried nerves leaked through his wall as memories of Dolores seeped to his front. Alyssa was pregnant with twins, that alone carried several complications in terms of the positioning of the babies, possible post partum haemorrhage. On top of that she was one week late, twins born post due date carry risks to the mother and the babies.

A flash of baby Ethan in the NICU drained the warmth from his face and he felt like he was drowning. He couldn’t breathe as he pressed a hand against the door ledge, bowing his head as Alan stood beside him. Alan could tell Ethan was panicking. His shoulders shook as Alan gently probed.

“Ethan?”

“What if something happens?”

“Boston’s famous doctor is worried about a twin birth? Ethan, you’ve done this before. You know what to do.”

“It’s different. Alyssa is in there. She’s the patient. What if I can’t make the right decision?”

“Ethan Jonah Ramsey. You are a diagnostician. A famous one at that. You look at the possibilities before you make your decision. You have it in you son. Plus she’s a fighter. She won’t back down. But she needs you. Be brave and if you can’t be brave, be brave for her. She needs your support.”

His father’s words felt like a warm wash of life as he inhaled the air, exhaling his anxieties and giving a steady nod. Ethan smiled at his father before pushing open the door to step into the room, stepping into action to help make Alyssa’s labour as easy as possible.

~~~~~~

“Daddy! When is Twilight Sparkle coming?”

“In a bit. If you finish your lunch, then she’ll come.”

“Daddy! Will she bring a lot of presents for us?”

“An average amount, Nathan.”

Ethan pinched the bridge of his nose as he watched over the several little kids munching on their mini pizza slices and tater tots. It was the twins’ birthday today and the two of them invited their whole class to celebrate, the sun was shining as the kids sat on picnic blankets. The Ramseys’ had a spacious garden which could hold for nearly twenty five kids and several adults. Bryce, Jackie and Elijah were keeping an eye on the kids as Ethan slipped away to the kitchen where Alyssa was sat on a breakfast stool with her foot in Sienna’s lap. Aurora was beside them as she carefully tapped a finger against the swollen skin near her ankle. Jenner paced on his paws with nervous energy as he whined at his mom, Alyssa.

“Alyssa has sprained her ankle … Ethan.”

The friends still had a difficult time addressing Ethan by his first name but he paid no heed to it as Alyssa tried to come off the stool, trying to brush off the pain.

“It’s nothing, I’m sure I’ll be fine as long as I don’t walk on it.”

Ethan sighed rather exasperatedly as he folded his arms at his wife. That motion alone made Alyssa meekly smile and remain in her seat. Aurora handed her a cool pack for Alyssa to use for her sprain. She knew that she needed to rest her ankle but the twins would be so upset.

“Fine. But how are we going to solve the entertainment issue?”

At that moment the front door opened and closed as Alan strode in with a confident excited gait. He had a white cardboard box in his hands as he hummed and placed the box on the table, unveiling it to reveal a My Little Pony cake with ‘Happy 4th Birthday! Nathan and Savannah’. Alan’s brows sagged at the sight of his daughter-in-law.

“What happened?”

“I … fell.”

Ethan resorted to pinching the bridge of his nose before explaining the story. The children were showing off dance moves and there was a little girl who was showing off her gymnastics ability. Alyssa thought she could show off her talent by demonstrating a cartwheel, unfortunately her cartwheel was aimed the wrong way and Alyssa landed awkwardly in a bush with her legs askew. Alan smiled at Alyssa as he realised that there was an issue of entertainment since Alyssa was planning to dress up as the kids’ favourite character, Twilight Sparkle.

“I guess that means Alyssa can’t be Twilight Sparkle.”

Sienna gave a nod and spoke up.

“Aurora, Jackie and I would do it but I don’t think there’s enough time for any of us to learn everything about My Little Pony. The kids are gonna see right through us.”

“It’s a conundrum.”

Everyone took a moment to think before Alan’s eyes twinkled with an idea.

“I have an idea. Sienna, start watching some My Little Pony, I’ll stall the kids. ‘Lyssa, where did you keep your guitar?”

Alyssa’s eyes twinkled as she informed Alan of the guitar, to which Aurora ran up to search for it. It seemed everyone knew what to do, everyone except for Ethan, who placed his hands on his hips, turning to his father.

“Would you mind clueing me into your plan?”

“A little singing will have the kids distracted while Aurora, Alyssa and Sienna get ready. The kids will love it!”

At that moment, Bryce popped his head through the glass garden doors, there’s a slight line of sweat near the crown of his neck as he nervously glances back.

“The kids are going rabid if Twilight Sparkle doesn’t come in the next five minutes.”

Aurora rushed back down and handed Alan a brown varnished acoustic guitar, a gift from Alyssa’s patient Remy. Alan hung the strap over his shoulder and strutted outside to where all the kids shrieked and yelled.

“Okay kids! Who’s gonna sing the My Little Pony theme song?”

Ethan went out and noticed all the kids sitting at their picnic blankets, bopping and singing while Alan strummed the tune of the My Little Pony theme song. Ethan and Rafael took the time to begin cleaning up the rubbish whilst Bryce, Elijah and Jackie kept an eye out for Sienna, Aurora and Alyssa. All the kids and the twins were enraptured, even Jenner was happily panting to the music. Alan was going through a list of songs going from the My Little Pony Theme Song, to the lime and coconut song and to  the rhinestone cowboy.Not long after, Alan got a thumbs up from Bryce and Jackie to which Alan smiled and announced.

“Now children! There is someone who’d like to wish two special children a Happy Birthday!”

Nathan and Savannah jumped up with excited shrieks as Alan strummed the music of the theme song and out came Twilight Sparkle. It was Sienna donning a purple sparkly dress, wings protruding from the back and a dark wig flowing off her shoulders. Her unicorn headband was fixed into the wig and her purple make-up shone in the sun as Sienna skipped towards the kids, tossing bounds of glitter.

Aurora and Jackie were helping Alyssa settle on a deck chair as the twins hugged and cried at the fact that Twilight Sparkle had come to their party. Ethan and Alyssa sent a thankful smile as Alan returned their smile, everyone’s faces warming at the twin’s excitement.

~~~~~~

Ethan used the back of his hand to wipe off the sweat on his brow as he pushed the front door of his apartment open. Baby Allison happily chewed on her yellow teether while bouncing in the baby sling, strapped across Ethan’s chest. Alyssa was working at the hospital after spending four months at home and it was Ethan’s turn to stay home with Allison. He was glad he opted for a loose linen shirt and khaki trousers as the Boston heat was slowly racking up. Ethan had gone out to buy some ingredients for their dinner: stir fried tofu and broccoli. 

Alyssa would need some good comfort food after going back to work and he knew that Chinese would delight her. He unclipped one arm strap, pressing a palm to hold up Allison before unclipping the other to carry his daughter to her high chair in the kitchen. Allison was teething so he handed her a teething ring to help Allison improve motor skills. His daughter smiled and babbled at the sight of her dad as Ethan pressed a kiss onto his daughter’s forehead.

Allison was a daddy’s girl since she would whine and cry with Alyssa, but when it came to Ethan, Allison babbled and laughed. Alyssa was sure that she would say ‘Dada’. Ethan grinned as Jenner padded into the kitchen, bringing himself up to stand on his hind legs beside Allison. The dog was protective and loving to Allison as she tried to swat at Jenner’s nose.

“Jenner, keep an eye on her.”

Jenner barked as Ethan began taking out utensils and the shopping to get started. Draining the water from the tofu and breaking up the broccoli into florets. Every so often, his eyes would wander to his little girl on the high chair. Ethan still couldn’t believe the fact that he was a father. A living breathing child was in his care, one he made with the woman he loved as his eyes glistened at the memories of her birth. Despite expecting for children to not be in the cards for him, life had a way of telling him that it was always the case.

As Ethan stared longingly at his daughter, Jenner could smell something faintly burning; turning his head to hear a loud crackle and pop. Jenner barked furiously which had Ethan snap out and realise the onions and garlic had burnt in the wok, the broccoli was charred beyond recognition as Ethan turned off the induction hob. The loud barks caused Allison to startle and little beads of tears streamed down her face.

His heart lurched as he immediately stalked to his daughter to take her in his arms and get her to settle down. It was the first time in a long time that Ethan burnt dinner as he exhaled at the time on his wrist watch. Alyssa would be home in an hour and it was too late to restart. He didn’t have enough ingredients and he couldn’t whip up something else in time for Alyssa to sink her teeth into.

At that moment his phone rang as Ethan reached into his pocket to rest the phone between his ear and shoulder, while bouncing a teary Allison in his lap.

“Ethan Ramsey.”

“Ethan.” The corner of Ethan’s lips curled upwards at the recognition of his father’s voice. “I’m just about ten minutes away from your home. Alyssa invited me to have dinner, do you need anything?”

Ethan glanced at the mess behind him, a low exhale left his lips.

“Can you please pick up some Chinese on your way here?”

It wasn’t long when Alan arrived with several bags of Chinese take out from Xing-Fu’s Restaurant. Ethan took the bags from Alan and set up the dining table while Alan took the time to talk and play with his granddaughter, Jenner wagged his tail rapidly as he watched Alan and Allison. Not long after the kitchen was clear and the dinner table was set, Alyssa had entered the apartment with a smile on her face.

She took a moment to freshen up before joining the Ramseys at the dinner table. Her eyes sparkled at the array of side dishes as she pecked Ethan’s cheek before digging rather ravenously into the food. All the tension from the day melted under the spicy heat of duck and the softness of lotus buns. Ethan and Alan share a knowing smile as they too get stuck into their meal, Allison smiles and babbles in her high chair next to Alyssa. Glad to have her mother with her.

~~~~~~

The memories faded as Ethan lifted his pen from the letter, a soft nostalgic smile brushed on his face as he pushed the frame of his glasses up the bridge of his nose. A faint sound of the front door opened as excited chirps and barking fluttered into his study. The kids, Jenner and Alyssa were home as Ethan smiles at the incoming thunder steps, spinning his office chair to the direction of the door. The twins come tumbling in and launch themselves into Ethan’s arms, not giving a chance for Ethan to pay attention to their chatter. Jenner is sitting at the entrance of the door, while Allison stands behind him with her hand scratching the top of his fur. 

“Nathan, Savannah! I cannot understand your rambling.”

“Yeah, they had a lot of pastries. Aunt Sienna made a lot of cakes and biscuits.”

Ethan shook his head with a teasing grin at the twins. The two of them hid their mouths as Nathan denied.

“No we didn’t. Ally did!”

“Liar, I saw you two take two slices of the chocolate fudge cake.”

“No! You’re dreaming Ally.”

Ethan raised an eyebrow at his troublesome twins but pressed long kisses into their hair. Savannah leaned over his shoulder and noticed the pen and paper before pressing her two palms on Ethan’s face, forcing him to look directly at her as she asked.

“Are you drawing without us?”

Ethan shook his head as he explained.

“I’m making a gift for grandpa.”

“Are you gonna give it to him tomorrow?”

Before he could answer, Alyssa appeared at the door with her hands on her hips, dressed in a green cotton dress and brown knee high boots. Her mom voice was coming through as she moved her eyes between the troublesome twins.

“Nathan and Savannah. Time for bed. We’ve got to wake up early tomorrow if you want to spend the whole day with Grandpa.”

“Do we have to?”

Ethan stood up and held on to the twins as he smartly urged.

“Come on if you get dressed for bed, you can stay up late tomorrow.”

The twins gasped as they scrambled off Ethan’s arms and rushed to their bedroom to get into their pyjamas. A small smile curled up on Alyssa’s lips as she turned to the eldest Ramsey child.

“You too, Ally!”

“But Mom!”

“Come on.”

Ethan steps up to the doorway and sweetly kisses his wife as she cupped his cheek.

“You coming?”

“Just finishing up.”

Alyssa gave a nod and led her daughter away to her bedroom, Jenner obediently bounding behind them. Ethan returned to his desk to read over the last words he wrote.

Look at me now. I’m a dad.

Thank you for making me the man I am today.

Love,

Dr. Ethan J. Ramsey

[of-wrens-and-whirlwinds-blog]

How Do Dragons Flirt?

Commission for the beauteous @ikeracity​ !!! A Cherik fic including dragon talk! I hope you like it, friend! Commission info is here!

~

Charles was reading another book about dragons.

Erik checked and re-checked that there was no one around, then walked over and asked, “May I sit here?”

Charles looked up, blinking. The entire student lounge was empty, and he had claimed the saggiest, oldest, shittiest couch that everyone hated. But Erik needed to get close for this.

“Ah—sure,” Charles said finally, and moved his enormous backpack. Erik sat in the corner furthest away from Charles. There was close, and there was too close; sharing a couch was on the edge of too close. He nevertheless turned a little, and asked Charles bluntly, “What’s that book about?”

A slow flush of shame filled Charles’ face, and he looked down, fiddling with the edges of the heavy paper. There seemed to be quite a few full-color illustrations as well as fancy script. “It’s… um… it’s about dragons,” he mumbled.

Erik bit the inside of his cheek, cursing at himself for already fucking up. He tried to make it better by saying, “Like contemporary ones or mythological?”

The flush deepened, and Charles looked away. “Mythological,” he answered softly.

Erik bit harder, cursed more viciously, and asked, “Can you tell me about that book?”

Charles’ head whipped around, and he stared at Erik with naked shock. Erik’s face went pink this time. “I like dragons too,” he explained, “But I don’t know any good books on them.”

The slow, brilliant smile that spread across Charles’ face was so beautiful that Erik was almost breathless. It really brought home how very fake his normal smiles were.

“Well… what books are you looking for?” Charles temporized, slowly relaxing and turning towards Erik. Maybe it wasn’t even a conscious decision. “There’s quite a difference between books about pop culture and books about dry medieval mythos.”

“I already have a basic grounding of pop culture,” Erik said, thinking back on the past three days of reading absolutely everything he could get his hands on. “Read a lot of essays. But I don’t know much about ancient depictions and writings.”

“Well, you are in for a treat,” Charles replied with something close to unholy glee.

Charles didn’t just like dragons, and he wasn’t just well-read. He was obsessed. Apparently his son was autistic (how the hell did baby-faced Charles have a child?) and his special interest was mythological creatures; Charles had started out just reading to him, and buying him books and watching videos. But then Charles had latched on to dragons, so while his son David researched griffins, Charles collected more and more material on fire-breathing lizards. It wasn’t as bad as his obsession with genetics and biology, but as Charles rambled on and on excitedly, Erik began to realize why people didn’t like listening.

But they were wrong. Because he’d heard so often that Charles was “boring”, but no one had ever mentioned how beautiful he was when he was excited. His eyes were wide and bright, his smile was the same, and his entire face came alive in a way it never did in class debates. He gestured emphatically and his voice got stronger and he looked so relieved.

Not to say Erik wasn’t listening. He was impressed by Charles’ knowledge, and the challenger in him wanted to learn just as much and more. So he listened, and asked questions, and soaked up Charles’ words like a sponge. He even got out his phone and noted all of the books Charles referenced and where to find them, and which sources they used. Charles was only too happy to add to the list.

By the time lights-out rolled around, Charles was hoarse and Erik was in a daze from the immense wave of talking that had just been aimed at him. He didn’t regret it. He found, to his own amusement, that he had enjoyed listening. But, well, he was already in love with Charles. No harm in enjoying his happiness.

They went to the stairs, silently. As they reached the landing where they split ways, Erik asked suddenly, “Can I sit with you at lunch tomorrow? I can probably dig up the essays I read, and we can compare.”

How could anyone think Charles was less than gorgeous when he was happy? “I’d like that,” he said simply.

~

So it became their Thing. If Erik was angry and wanted to be distracted, he sought out Charles. If Charles was upset in any way and needed to calm down, he went to Erik. They laughed together (when they were alone) about how it was great that, when either or both of them wanted to be alone, they just had to find each other and talk about dragons, and other people would avoid them.

Erik was labeled a martyr and insane for putting up with Charles, but he brushed it off, and in fact snapped at several people who acted like he was “brave” for “trying to be his friend”. There was no trying involved. As soon as they had found common ground, they had become friends. Natural arrogance, similar tastes, and true respect had made a friendship that Erik craved.

And it was fun talking to Charles. Even when conversation veered and they ended up debating politics or queer rights or which pizza chain made the best food (Erik insisted it was Pizza Hut, Charles refused to let go of Dominoes), it always came back to dragons, naturally, easily. Dragons as metaphors. Dragon stories as direct replies to various events in history. Dragons and their place in the human psyche.

It was only natural, really, to spend an evening talking about all the various descriptions of dragon mating behaviors. Erik was of the opinion that basing a dragon’s mating rituals on mammals was an insult to lizards and bats; Charles laughed and said if humans stuck to the mating rituals of lizards and bats, no one would find dragons romantic or powerful. They eventually agreed that birds were a good compromise, since they both detested birds.

Then things started… happening.

Erik immediately linked them to Charles. Gifts of food left at his door. Pretty rocks slipped into his backpack. Beautiful feathers tucked between the pages of his latest book on dragons that he was borrowing from Charles.

And then there was the nesting. The first time Erik visited Charles’ house, they ended up curled in a mess of pillows, cushions, blankets, and sheets, doing something Erik had never expected himself to be comfortable with: cuddling.

Charles’ son, David, was visiting. He was nonverbal, but knew a lot of sign-language; and since Charles had been teaching Erik, he was able to convey to David that he was a friend and he liked mythological creatures too. David looked at him somberly with his big blue eyes, then nodded and sat on a cushion a foot away from Charles, who beamed at his son with so much love that Erik’s heart ached.

But cuddling in a nest, watching movies together, sharing popcorn… it made Erik nervous, but excited. Was Charles flirting? Was this how flirting worked?

He decided to try some himself.

He bought Charles CDs because the silly man wouldn’t upgrade to a digital library, because birds sang to potential mates, didn’t they? Erik also tentatively offered to watch Dirty Dancing with Charles, because birds dance but he couldn’t, and the delight on Charles’ face was worth the fact that Erik disliked most of the movie.

He was stumped on pretty gifts, though. He didn’t have a lot of income, and Charles could afford literally anything he wanted. So Erik bought a ton of jump rings, a spool of wire, those little pliers jewelry-makers used, and pretty beads, and started making things for Charles.

The first thing he gave Charles was one of those bead-lizards, except he made wings to match. Charles almost cried, and hugged Erik so tight, which was… a nice feeling, surprisingly. Then Erik fussed and fiddled and managed to make three differently-sized hamsa, which Charles immediately hung by his front door, on his backpack, and in his room. David demanded a hamsa of his own, so Erik made a child-sized one and gave it to him for his birthday. David was so excited that he ran in circles, flapping his arms, and then shook Erik’s hand heartily. Erik actually found himself smiling.

Charles kissed his cheek so briefly before he left that night. It made him dizzy and warm, a feeling that lasted all the way back to his dorm.

They never talked about it. Not unless continued, hesitant mentions of dragon mating rituals counted.

~

It was a year after Erik had first approached Charles about dragons when he met Raven.

“Erik, this is my sister, Raven,” Charles said, beaming. “Raven, this is my friend Erik.”

“Nice to meet you,” Raven said neutrally with a lukewarm smile.

Erik nodded. “Likewise,” he said stiffly.

Charles was used to Erik by now, and was apparently used to Raven, because he didn’t seem upset by this standoff. If anything, he brightened further, and told Raven, “He likes dragons too.”

“Yeah, you told me,” Raven replied, taking Charles’ hand and squeezing gently. Then she turned back to Erik, narrowed her eyes, and asked, “What’re your intentions towards my brother?”

“Raven!” Charles gasped, immediately turning red with embarrassment. Erik was also pink, to his surprise.

“He’s my friend,” Erik said firmly.

“Then why are you flirting with him?”

Erik’s face got even warmer. “I… was not aware that I was,” he muttered, eyes glancing around to make sure no one was near.

“Hmph.” Raven turned back to a befuddled and sad—no, no, why was he sad—Charles. “He’s into you, dumbass.”

Erik looked at the ground, unable to hide how very red he was. Charles knew him now. He would know what his expression meant.

“Oh, hush, Raven,” Charles snapped, actually sounding angry. “You don’t know that.”

“Whatever. Did you want to get drinks or no?”

So the three of them went to get drunk. Erik was nervous about that; he was an angry drunk. But if he kept to a low amount of alcohol, he should be fine.

Raven and Charles were so hard-headed it made Erik a little afraid. Raven did eventually fall asleep on Charles’ shoulder, but she never acted drunk other than that; and Charles chattered on with his usual enthusiasm, his speech not slurred in the slightest. Erik was feeling a little woozy after maybe two beers and three shots of tequila.

“Do you like me?” Charles asked suddenly.

“Huh?” Erik said.

“Do you like me?” Charles repeated, looking very sharp and sober. “Raven said you did.”

“Well...” Erik rubbed the back of his neck, staring at the table. But, knowing that they would both forget in the morning, he felt safe in blurting, “Well, yes. I just… didn’t want to bring it up.”

“Why not?”

“Because… it felt weird. I like being your friend too much.”

There was a silence. Then Charles reached over and put his hand over Erik’s. “I like you too,” he said softly.

~

It was definitely mating rituals.

And Erik didn’t mind at all. Nothing really changed, except they started kissing in private, and then they got bold and kissed while drunk and in front of Charles’ friends, and after that it was just natural to hold hands and sit side-by-side and kiss each other on the cheeks or forehead. It was so natural that Erik forgot their reputations, and was honestly surprised the first time someone invited Charles to a party and asked Erik separately if he’d like to come.

Charles asked David if it was okay that Charles and Erik wanted to be boyfriends. David thought about it, and said his first sentence in six years: “Yes, because he makes you happy.”

“Thank you so much, Davey,” Charles said, smiling broadly with tears in his eyes. Erik felt a weight lift off his shoulders, too; so David wouldn’t mind Erik visiting more often.

Or moving in. Which Erik did, eventually. Because it was only natural. Dragons move in with their mates too, after all.

[dvsvsgrr]

and a higher torque version will be available

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[astraeal]

Commission for @thedashasaproblem! Hope you enjoy; read it on AO3 here.

Farmer Marie, original character, belongs to @thedashasaproblem. Stardew Valley, and all characters and settings therein, belongs to concernedape.

“Okay! We have quite a few things we need to get done today. Marnie called – you know how I asked her to let us know if she had any more available chicks? Yes? – and said there were some new ones we could pick up, which is perfect and just in time because Robin wrapped up the coop yesterday! And that means we need fresh hay in the coop, and if we need to restock the silo then we’ll mow too. Bessie needs to be milked and we’ll check if Sweetpea has any this morning or if she’s still nursing – ugh, little Delilah is going to be so stunning when she grows up, I can feel it. Oh, and good morning babe!”

Elliott blinks from where he’d stumbled into the kitchen, his hair thrown into a messy bun and loose auburn strands hanging around his face. He is in no way prepared for Marie’s chipper enthusiasm, but that’s what made him love her, after all. And, this entire situation is something he brought upon himself.

Head full of fantastical pastoral fantasies, he’d asked Marie to keep him appraised of what it takes to run Shady Land Farm. He was good with books, which was helpful – while Marie was running about the Valley in search of delicious fruits and rare stones, Elliott appointed himself the financier of Marie’s assets.

It had been difficult; he’d consolidated sticky notes scattered about the house with haphazard reminders about supplies owed to Robin, and items to sell to Pierre at the general store vs. what should be distributed to townsfolk directly, and birthday reminders, and favorite gifts, and occasional notes written in a script he couldn’t parse but appearing on a fantastical dark blue page that made his writer’s intuition spark. (That, and his fingers burned a little whenever he held such a note, as if it knew that he was not the intended recipient, but he never let Marie know that.)

After his book tour had completed, he had taken the better part of their first fall together to consolidate these notes and square the books. It had been helpful when Marie decided to go forward with the basement upgrade, and suddenly Shady Land’s wines and cheeses were worth quite a lot more. They’d only recently begun talking about incorporating more animals into the farm, hence the phone call to Marnie. With the addition of more animals, and Marie’s additional time spent working on repairing the old Community Center, Elliott wanted to assist more. It was only fair, after all; he still got most of his writing done at night, and there was no reason he couldn’t spend more of his mornings helping around the farm.

Marie had been ecstatic, of course, and he’d glowed with the anticipated appreciation for his efforts. So far, it hadn’t been that difficult. Sprinklers handled most of the watering, and with Marie’s clear eye for design, he wasn’t getting lost in the fields as he had feared he would.

But he still wasn’t a morning person, and his brain isn’t entirely on all the way, especially when his wife has inundated him with information and her beautiful visage so early in the morning.

Marie looks up at him, wide blue eyes and a warm smile on her face, blonde hair tucked away in two braids that usually resided beneath her sunhat. The hat now rests on the worn kitchen table, two steaming mugs of coffee and cozy breakfast platters set on the table. Still processing his wife’s words, Elliott makes his way to the second breakfast platter and pours some milk into his coffee, knowing he’ll need it to make it through the day.

“Good morning, my dear,” he murmurs as he finishes those first three blessed gulps of caffeinated beverage. “Would you like me to fetch the chicks? Or shall I stay on the homestead and you venture to the forest?”

Marie takes a bite of her eggs, done up with some goat cheese – “I bought it from Pierre but when we get some we’ll make our own, and it’ll be probably fresher than this stuff!” – potatoes, and sausage in her own little scramble. Elliott’s breakfast is far more tame, scrambled eggs and farm fresh cheese, with toast on the side.

“If you want to take Miss Daisy to Marnie’s, that would be great! She could use an excursion, and she loves the woods.” Marie sets her hand – soft, thanks to the gloves she uses, but still strong and capable – over Elliott’s wrist. “If you don’t mind, that is. I know coming back with newborn chicks might be a little…difficult.”

He warms at her touch. “I’m sure Marnie has a basket or some such thing I could use, don’t fret darling. She’d never let anything happen to the animals in her care.”

Marie smiles at him, and pecks his cheek. “Alright, babe, I’ll head down to the barn –”

“Oh, I can do that!” He blushes a little after his outburst, but still gives his wife a smile. “Let me handle the animals today, my dear. The first fruits of spring will be in the orchard, and you’ve got a better sense for flora than I.”

They both remember the catastrophic effort in Elliott’s old cottage when he watered his rose with sea water and was confused as to why it was dying. That had been one of the many points Elliott began to consider Marie as more than a friend.

She gives him a look clearly conveying that she’s thinking of the same moment he is. “Well, alright. Apricots and cherries, what a combination. Oh! And the wine! I’ll be right back!” She darts away, down the basement stairs, presumably to see if any wine has finished maturing yet. Some things she pulls out early, just for a little extra cash – Gus is always appreciative of a finer quality of any type of ingredient, especially alcohol.

Elliott knows it will take her a little while to check each barrel, so he quickly finishes his breakfast and coffee, and then stands, ready to take on the day.

First, to get himself prepared.

Then, to tend to Miss Daisy.

♢♢♢

Marie loses some time in the basement, checking each and every barrel, weighing the pros and cons of switching out some of the wine barrels for cheese barrels. With Bessie and Sweetpea both producing such quality milk, Shady Land has a near excess of cheese and she knows Gus would pay a fair amount to have some for his pizzas and salads.

Then again, better quality cheese keeps her going in the mines and other excursions, so there might be some incentive to keep some around? She’d probably ask Elliott for his thoughts, but by the time she surfaces from the basement and sees the clock perched over the coffee maker in the kitchen, she realizes it’s already 2:49pm.

She’d left her husband alone for hours. Elliott isn’t incompetent, but there’s still etiquette for handling new animals, especially babies, and all of Grandpa’s farming books are written in family shorthand, something she’d been meaning to teach Elliott but just kept forgetting.  

Alarmed, Marie runs out to the front porch, expecting some sort of catastrophe. Bessie to be loose – not that she’d do much but perhaps wander up towards the house and eat a few tulips or something – or maybe Aspen to have fallen into the lake (again) but instead all’s quiet. She can hear the soft bells hanging from Bessie, Sweetpea, and little Delilah, but she can’t see them through the orchard.

She doesn’t run, lest she startle anyone, but she heads towards the tree line as quickly as she can. As she approaches, she can hear her husband’s voice. She quiets her steps as she enters the dappled shade of the orchard, the apple and orange trees still dormant for the season, yet producing beautiful flowers regardless. A sweet spring wind guides some fallen petals towards her, beautifully framing the tender scene she sees before her.

Elliott sits on a stump, Miss Daisy, Bessie, and Sweetpea, grazing peacefully beside him. He and little Delilah, however, are looking down, enraptured with three small fuzzy brown and golden chirping fluffy chicks in the grass. The chicks are barely visible from her current distance, but as Elliott straightens up his long hair goes back into place, revealing a fourth little chick curled up in his hand, which he gives little pets to every once in a while.

“You’re not too different from the crab that once lived in my pocket,” the story crafter begins, murmuring to the little chick in his hand. The chick chirps in response, and Elliott chuckles. “I haven’t told you that story yet? Well, I absolutely should.”

Marie takes another small step forward, not wanting to encroach on the moment nor startle any of the beings involved. The more she watches the scene, the more she sees things she hadn’t before. Like how all the adult females stood firmly on the edge of the lake, prohibiting the chicks, Elliott, or Aspen from wandering too close to it. And a small – hopefully empty – milk pail sits next to the stump, as if her husband had finished a chore and then simply couldn’t be away from the chicks for much longer.

What gives her away is another small fluff ball in the grass, this one bigger than the chicks, a brilliant white that rockets out of the higher grass and directly into Marie’s arms.

“Aspen! Who’s a good boy?” she coos, on reflex. Miss Daisy looks nonplussed, as if she knew Marie was there the entire time, while Delilah startles a little and runs back to the safety of Sweetpea.

Elliott also startles, which startles the chicks, who all climb and jump up his pant legs and into his lap, chirping loudly until they can take cover in the safety of Elliott’s lap. “Darling! I didn’t hear you arrive!” He looks caught red handed, though with what, Marie’s not sure.

She walks over, Aspen tucked to her chest, and sees with no small amount of relief that the milk pail isn’t full of milk, but rather water. Now, she can also see a small basket, no doubt from Marnie, in which the chicks probably arrived.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to disrupt…you just looked so cute, babe! Everyone treating you nicely?” Marie leans forward, letting Aspen back down to the ground, and gives an affectionate rub to Miss Daisy, who wandered over searching for some treats.

Elliott blushes, visible even with the mid-spring flush he seems to always have on him. “Yes, quite. Everyone has been remarkably kind to me. Miss Daisy had to guide us home herself! I was, ah, a little preoccupied with the newest young ones.”

The wind picks up a little, carrying more flower petals through the air. Elliott’s long auburn waves glint caramel in the sun, unfurling to the side, revealing the turquoise earring usually kept tucked away. Marie had mined that turquoise herself; the earring had been a wedding gift from Clint, repurposing a stone Marie had sold him a few weeks prior to their proposal. (She had briefly wondered if maybe Clint and Elliott had been in on it together, as the timing was so perfect, but maybe she was simply overthinking things.)

Elliott looks completely at home, sitting cross-legged on the stump, worn down by spring rains. With the chicks in his lap and the errant flower petals in his hair, the man looks ever more like a regal prince from all the books and movies Marie had seen growing up.

“They’ve taken a liking to you,” she observes, reaching a finger in to give gentle pets to the soft downy chicks. They accept them, curious and cautious in their new home, but feeling brave under Elliott’s protection. “Have you thought of any names?”

Her husband looks up, green eyes wide. “Names? Oh, darling, I thought that was all you.”

“Nonsense! You picked them up, you should at least be able to name them. These ladies will need fine names, if they’re to live here on Shady Land. And you’re a writer, names are what you do!”

The chicks chirp in agreement, looking up at Elliott.

“Well…I was thinking this one could be Carmelina,” he murmurs, touching the lightest brown one. “Caramel, for the color, but the full name also means “vineyard of Yoba” so I find that fitting for the main exports of Shady Land, don’t you?”

Marie blinks. “You…knew the meaning of the name on the spot?”

“Of course! Clara was almost named Carmelina in Camellia Station, but I thought that would be too close to the title of the book, so I changed it. Still kept the C though.” He gets that wistful look on his face, a little lost in thought, as he usually does when trying to come up with next big ideas for his writing career.

The farmer giggles, giving more pets to Miss Daisy, who finally nosed out the cookies in Marie’s pockets. She gives one to her steadfast companion, looking at her husband with a newfound appreciation.

She takes a seat on the stump beside Elliott, looking up at him as they discussed further names for the chicks. The sun dripped down through the orchard’s branches, spreading dappled shadows up the short grassy expanse. Eventually, the cows and Miss Daisy wander back to their respective barns and stables, and the chicks doze off in Elliott’s lap. Marie delicately takes a couple – the newly named Carmelina and Dahlia – and heads off to the newly constructed coop to set them inside.

The chicks barely move when they’re set down in their new hay lined beds, clearly Elliott’s handiwork while Marie was tending to the house. The two of them hold hands, walking through the fields of Shady Land.

“You know, we could wash up and head to town. Get a late lunch at the Saloon, then maybe walk down by the beach?” Marie suggests, watching her husband for his response. She likes to spend as much time with him as possible before she loses him to his nightly writing routine, and there’s something a little tender about meandering down by the places they had fallen in love.

Elliott beams, nearly glowing with happiness. “That sounds delightful, dear. I’ll be sure to put on my best shirt.”

It’s not necessary to dress up for a 4pm lunch at the Stardrop Saloon, but Elliott likes to go the extra mile, and Marie can appreciate the little efforts to glamorize being a farmer’s husband. She kisses his dirt smeared cheek, standing side by side on the porch, and marvels at how far she’s taken the farm since her grandfather had worked the land.

Maybe someday she’d tell her husband about the vision she’d received a couple weeks ago, with her grandfather and the ultimate judging of her efforts so far, and the new, strange, blue flame candles on her grandfather’s shrine in the northwest corner of the farm. Someday. But not today.

“I wonder if Gus will have crab cakes,” she teases, stepping into their home, to the sounds of fire crackling in the fireplace and her husband enthusiastically waxing poetic about his favorite dish in the entire Valley.

Truly, it’s home.

[iamnotoriginalphil]

Family Matters (Zelda Spellman x Reader) - Part 25

Synopsis: You return from your meeting with Bella.

Words: 1222

Warnings: none

AN: Okay, apologies for not releasing this yesterday. My hard drive is completely ruined and as such my laptop is now out of commission. I’m being forced to use the family computer for posting purposes now, which means I may be posting at weird times until I can get my laptop fixed. Thank you for all the birthday wishes! If you’d like to be tagged in future chapters just let me know. 

Zelda was pacing around the living room, waiting for the sound of the front door opening. You’d been gone for over an hour. Night had well and truly fallen and she wasn’t able to settle until she knew you were unharmed. The thought of Bella laying a hand on you made her want to tear the vampiric skin straight off her body.

She should hate you. Logically she knew that. But you were deliciously pathetic enough to make her feel more pity than anger. And she could certainly understand the fierce protectiveness you felt towards your family. Plus, you had somehow managed to worm your way into her heart deep enough that your betrayal hadn’t managed to push you out of it quite yet.

“Zelda, please sit down,” Hilda said from her seat on the sofa. Her knitting needles were clacking together, creating an annoying tempo that was driving Zelda crazy. 

“She should be back by now,” Zelda snapped.

“I’m sure everything is fine. That girl knows how to handle herself,” she said.

“Not against Bella,” she replied.

The front door opened just as the heavens did. Zelda hurried into the entrance hall, ignoring the heavy rain pounding on the roof. You were standing there, shrugging out of your coat. She let her eyes rake over you, trying to find any indication of what had happened out in the woods. You seemed normal to her.

“Well?” she demanded.

“It went perfectly to plan.”

Your smile was bright, lighting up the whole room in your glow of satisfaction. Her heart stuttered at the beauty before her, despite your hair frizzing from the mist outside and the dark circles under your eyes. Zelda reached a hand out towards you. You didn’t hesitate before taking it, threading your fingers through hers.

“She bought it hook, line, and sinker,” you said.

“Was she angry?” she asked, with a raised eyebrow.

“Completely, but given she was astral projecting there wasn’t a lot she could do other than make threats and look vicious,” you said with a laugh, “she calmed down when I explained why I was away, and she completely forgot it when I mentioned you were thinking about a reconciliation.”

“Well of course she did. I’m a pretty good incentive to forget anger.” She smirked.

“It proves I’m not as bad a liar as you seem to think I am.”

You managed to surprise a chuckle from Zelda. Her fingers tightened around yours, pulling you a step closer. You looked up into her eyes, mirth dancing in yours. She couldn’t stop herself from leaning forward, capturing your lips with hers. 

“Oh.”

Zelda drew back, a scowl replacing the relieved smile she’d previously been wearing. She turned, finding her sister in the doorway of the living room, looking at the two of you. You ducked around Zelda, pushing your hair behind your ear. Your hand slipped from hers.

“As always, sister, you have impeccable timing.”

“I didn’t realise,” she said.

“Yes, well, that was rather the point,” Zelda snapped.

“Where’s Luna?”

Zelda looked around, unable to see your figure in the room. 

“I’m in here.”

Zelda turned on her heels, marching into the kitchen. You were stood at the sink, filling the kettle with water. Hilda bustled over, taking the kettle from your hands. She shooed you away. You rolled your eyes but slid into a chair at the table. Zelda perched on the edge of her seat, staring at you across the wooden surface. She found it hard to tear her eyes away from your face, now she knew you shared her feelings. She felt like she had permission to stare.

“Is she going to show up in person in Greendale?” she couldn’t help but ask.

“She said we’re moving up our plans so by next week she should be in town,” you replied, nodding emphatically.

“What does that mean exactly?” Hilda asked before Zelda could. She glared at her sister but turned her attention back to you, waiting to hear your answer.

“Well,” you hesitated, blowing the steam away from the mug of tea Hilda set down in front of you, “in three days Bella will blow into town and I’ll meet her for the final instructions. Then on the new moon in a week’s time I’ll lure Zelda out to the woods where Bella will do the binding ceremony.”

“What you are saying is we only have three days to put our plan into action?” Zelda asked.

“Basically.”

Zelda sighed but bit her tongue before she could criticise you. She was sure it wasn’t your fault. She remembered how stubborn Bella could be. It had grated on her nerves back then, and it grated on them now. She watched you take a sip from your cup, a soft smile taking over your face.

“I still don’t know how you’re going to manage this,” you said, “surely she’ll be able to smell your scent if you’re anywhere near her.”

“I’m taking a leaf out of her book,” she said, “a lot can be accomplished while astral projecting.”

“But if you’re in that clearing at all she’ll be able to tell even in three days time.”

“That’s why you’re going to be doing the preparations tomorrow,” she said with a growing smile.

“But I’m not a witch.”

“All preparations will be magic free,” she assured you.

You gave her a relieved smile. She brought her tea to her lips. She couldn’t drag her eyes away from you as you wrapped your hands around the mug, relaxing into your chair. 

“I should probably go to bed,” you said.

“I think I shall join you.”

A pretty flush climbed up your cheeks. You turned away from her, a flash of a smile all she could catch. You left your tea on the table, steam still rolling off it. Zelda followed behind you, ignoring her sister trying to catch her eyes. She was in no mood to discuss matters of the heart with her own flesh and blood.

“Are you coming to lock me away from the world?” you asked, turning to look over your shoulder at her on the stairs.

“Nonsense,” she said, “we’ve moved beyond that.”

“And why’s that?”

She enjoyed hearing the teasing tone enter your voice again. She’d missed the joy she’d grown accustomed to hearing from you. You turned outside your door, leaning back against it. She stood in front of you, unable to stop herself from reaching out a hand to grasp your hip.

“I think you know why.”

She kissed you softly, letting herself ignore the fire so often flickering in her when you were around. You wrapped your arms around her neck, pulling her closer. 

She pressed her forehead against yours, her eyes still closed. She listened to your breath, the relief of it still being present coursing through her. She hadn’t wanted to admit how worried she’d been. She hadn’t wanted you to come to any harm at the hands of a vampire.

“Goodnight Zelda,” you whispered.

She drew away. The quiet click of the door closing behind you was enough to snap her from the romantic notions running through her head. She turned away, her thumb running over the key in her pocket. 

She shook her head, pushing it deeper into her pocket. You deserved more than that mistrust. 

Tags: @theenglishwizard @eyesofanangeltongueofadevil@hallospaceboyy @alexusonfire @justkeepbreathingnow@ghostsunderstoodmysoul @witching-imagines @praisezeldaspellman@escapetodreamworld @panicnymph @anxiousgoldengirl@theprassebox @witchessticktogether @pizzapyjamas @plooffairy@whos-to-know @spicyrice20 @fallenangelmuse @step-intoyour-power @basicwitchtm @lovelyleafylesbian @saucy-sapphic 

[ikevampfg]

can we get some juicy yandere senarios of the suitors ?

This is the longest I've done so far!

Napoleon

-MC and Napoleon were walking at the streets of Paris, going to the newly opened cafe in town to try their crepes.

-MC didn't notice and bumped on a handsome nobleman of Paris, and almost fell down on top of the man but the handsome gentleman had catched her and apologized. The look one the man's eyes were something Napoleon was familiar of, and he won't ever share her to some nobleman.

-Napoleon was jealous. He snatched MC fast and had her close to his chest, his eyes clouded with dark anger and superiority. He had his sword unseathed with a threatening aura, a soldier—no, the emperor was looking at him straightly. It is the same look from the past, the one he gives at his subordinate when he's mad and ready to sent someone in the guillotine.

-The man didn't backed at all. In fact, he was interested on her far more even commenting that a man as barbaric as Napoleon won't fit her.

-Napoleon let that one pass and they left instead, going back at the mansion.

-And after that day, a nobleman was found beheaded on Paris.

Mozart

-Mozart was easily jealous of every man that comes near her, he'll be willing to jail her up if all the men had fawned over her. But he was unguarded today and had to do his concert.

-He was playing when he saw a man beside MC, talking to her and even go far as kissing her hand. By that time, Mozart was losing his temper and his press to the keys became harder and faster the music becoming more intense as hate is starting to get on his veins.

-When its done, Mozart immediately went to MC only to see the man still tailing back on her. He grabbed her and gave a kiss on the lips to show the man that he should back off.

-But he didn't stop there. The man even invited MC to come to his birthday party and asked her to be his muse.

-Mozart didn't take all of it and lashed out to be rude at the man. After that, he had MC tied to his bed and banged her mind to be the only one he should look at. Next thing on his concert, MC is now seated beside him while he's playing.

Leonardo

-He was painting a woman in town when MC started talking to the male gardener out of her boredness of waiting Leonardo to finish.

-Leonardo was aware, yes and he kept going on the painting. But he can see it at the corner of his eye that the gardener had already taken interest in her, giving her a red rose ans even help it put her on her ear.

-He suddenly broke the paint brush he was holding, trying to remain calm but his hands were quivering from anger. He changed brushes but every hour that passed and their conversation grew, all the brushed were already broken.

-The painting was done and its time to leave and MC bid goodbye to the gardener who even gave her flowers. Leonardo just didn't speak to him, and thought that he must be tired from painting so she didn't bother.

-MC was about to put the flowers she received from the gardener on a vase when she noticed that it was missing. She kept looking at it but to no avail.

-Leonardo had already burned the flowers on the porch, staring at it with disgust and hate.

Arthur

-They were solving a case together and because it is a serious case, MC had to report it to the police while Arthur was still deducing.

-She talked to the young police man and told him details, even her name. Arthur can't help to be jealous the hot feeling of hatred burning on the pit of his gut. The policeman was good looking, and is even taking advantage of taking MC's info, he's sure of it.

-Arthur got in the way and seriously talked much to MC's worry as she was never used to him talking seriously. He told MC to go home much to her protest but when he seriously told her to just go home with a intimidating glare in his eyes, she had to obey.

-Arthur got home with a case solved, but after a week a new case around Paris had circulated again.

-A body of a policeman was find without identifiable reasons. Many detectives had tried but to no avail that they even asked Arthur to help but he refused telling that 'he had to interest with such cases that the government could handle themselves.'

Vincent

-They were buying art materials for Vincent to use in his new commissioned painting. He held MC's hand all the time and asked her if they could buy at a bakery.

-MC agreed, of course. She can't resist Vincent after all.

-They walked together when a man accidentally bumped on her and broke the eggs he was holding spilling it on her white blouse. The man was apologetic and rubbed MC's clothes to remove the egg stain and accidentally touched her chest that she almost screamed, Vincent immediately pushing the man off and held her close with a glare.

-Vincent was known as an angel but the man right now saw different. His sky blue eyes were glaring and dark as the night, the angelic features twisted with anger and disdain showing the side of the devil hidden on him.

- "Don't ever show up again, not to me especially to her. Or else I'll be painting my canvas with your blood, and I'll make sure it'll be displayed at your funeral."

Theo

-They were at the art gallery organized by Theo and another fellow businessman like him.

-Theo was busy entertaining guests and spectators of the gallery, and MC roamed around the venue to see the artworks and appreciate it. One artwork caught her sight and she was mesmerized by it, and the artist of the work was there adoring MC and her appreciation towards his art.

-The two talked and Theo saw it. They were laughing together and they walked away together too and he had no idea where they'll go. Theo dropped the conversation with other guests to follow them only to see them eat at the nearby sweet shop together to talk.

-Theo didn't have it. His temper kicked in and immediately chased MC inside the shop and brought her out while she was protesting, even called a carriage and pushed her in telling to coachman to deliver her at Saint Germain's mansion. She was protesting but didn't listened, shut off the door and watched the carriage run off and took care of some 'business' himself.

Isaac

-They were inquiring at the University of Paris as Isaac is interested on studying there for Natural Sciences especially on his free time.

-While Isaac was busy talking, MC decided to roam around the university when a flirty university boy came her way and flirted with her. She was rejecting his form of communication and asked to leave, only for her shoulders to be wrapped by the boy's arms and led her at the garden.

-Isaac lost sight of her only to see in his vision that the young college boy already had his arm wrapped around her and it awaked his anger, his fists clenched.

-He stormed to them, grabbed MC and pushed the boy out of his fit. The boy he pushed had swing a punch at Isaac only for Isaac to catch, and gripped his hands around the neck of the boy, clutching it tight for him to lose air and MC was pleading him to stop.

-He was losing his patience, his thoughts blacking out as he tightened the grip on the neck and MC had to pull him off and run away from the university to avoid the people to come after them.

-Isaac swore he'll be back at that place soon.

Jean

-They stopped by a weaponry shop for Jean to see if new weapons or he could get a new sword for his self and Napoleon so they could train better.

-MC was looking around as well just curious of some weapons around and see if she can buy something for Jean as a gift for the future use. The shop was spacy and had a lot of room to look around so, she skimmed the place. There's one sword that caught her sight, its scabbard beautifully made and carved in complicated design, an artistry she thought fitted for Jean.

-When she's about to see it for herself, a man behind him had taken a hold of the sword already and it isn't Jean much to her shock, the arms around her putting them into an 'awkward' position made her cautious and looked up at the man.

-Judging by the cloth and his features, the man might be a young cocky general roaming around Paris. With a smirk on his face, he greeted MC in a flirtatous way that made her wriggle off from the man's hold.

-One thing that happened is the man flew off in such force as Jean throwed him out the shop only by the collar, his sword already pointed at the man and a big ugly wound on the man's chest already drawn blood. Jean had an expression of anger painted on his beautiful face that even his only visible eye can tell that he's already ready to burn the man in hell.

- "..you.. must have known that you shouldn't touch my lady and made her uncomfortable. And now you've angered me, you must have known that I am no saint towards men who dared to lay their finger on her. And you, who have defied that shall be sent to the depths of hell and even I would come after you in that place to make sure you'll suffer."

Dazai

-They were buying paper and ink at town for Dazai to use in his writings. He suggested they should roam around so he could buy MC whatever she wants as a token of appreciation for coming after him.

-So they did and they roamed around Paris where there's a shop that sells Asian items that caught MC's attention. He agreed to see it as well, interested at the items inside.

-MC liked that japanese ink and brush set along with scrolls but before they Dazai could pay, some asian businessman bought it out of the blue before them and paid it. Though, the items wasn't for him but for MC and immediately took her hand and placed a kiss on the back of it telling that it will give it to her in one condition: be his yuujo for the night. ( a japanese term that means 'Woman of pleasure' and a general term for a japanese prostitute ).

-He respected yuujos of his time but when the man had implied MC suddenly and look at her as someone whom he could think to just taste and play with even with just one look; Dazai was infuriated. Dazai couldn't let that statement slip off, and he grabbed the katana just beside him that is displayed just beside him. That immediately ringed into Dazai's ears and had MC wrapped tight around his arm.

"Oi, yatsu. You've got the nerve to give my lady such a request, even bribing her in front of me huh?Ore ha omae wo kurusuzo. I suppose you've bid goodbye to your family before going here? Shinjimae!"

Shakespeare

-He was directing a play and MC was there to stay with him. He would love to lock MC up in his room but he didn't want to be that cruel, so he brought her there with him.He was busy directing people what to do, and teaching them how they should deliver the lines.

-The funder of the play visited and had caught MC on his eye, captivated by her beauty. Shakespeare caught that, and he wasn't pleased at all but he forced a smile on his face and got there before he could talk to MC.

-The nobleman talked with Shakespeare of course and asked about who she was. He always dodged the questions and even leading the man away from her. He was even the one that sent the man away.

-Days after the play, the nobleman has gone missing and was found under the floor boards of the theatre stage, poisoned and everytime Shakespeare heard the news, he'll just smile.

Le Comte

-They were at a party and MC was his partner for the night. She was outstandingly beautiful and every man in the room had eyes for her.

-Comte wanted to be mad, but he had to be composed until the party ends. Everytime there are someone attempting to talk to MC, he'll be interrupting it.

-MC had wanted to get fresh air for a little and asked Le Comte. He accompanied her to the balcony and gave her a chair to sit so he could relax as he knew that her foot was aching after long hours of standing beside him while he was talking with other aristocrats. She told Comte that she was thirsty, but there are no waiters around and he had to get it by himself even he was hesitant to leave her.

-He left for a little when another man, a vampire to be exact approached her and tried to get into her. She was suspicious and scared especially the quick bold movements of the man, and when he showed his fangs, the fear had already crawled up to her veins that event brought excitement to the man.

-She shut her eyes out of her fear that she was about to bitten when she felt nothing. She opened her eyes only to see the balcony windows shut and Le Comte had the vampire lifted to the air by gripping into its neck tight with the scary expression painted on his face, erasing all the mercy he had in his eyes.

-Le Comte didn't waste more time when he threw the man off the balcony, doing it with force to reassure he'll die of that fall even the man was a vampire.

-He took MC home immediately and made sure she'll be always on his room after that night.

Sebastian

-They were out shopping for ingredients and the needs of the residents just as any normal day.

-It all just changed when they took a little break and sat at a wooden bench and that one guy at the bench at the other side were showing gestures of interest on MC. Sebastian wasn't aware at first and remembered that he forgot to buy syrup for the pancake and he'll be back fast.

-MC nodded and let him go. She was just there until things got far for the man. The man was actually an voyeouristic that he started stroking his member in front of her much to her horror that she started tearing up and wanted to run when the man stood up as well attempting to catch her.

-And much to her shock, pieces of table knives suddenly pierced through the man that came from a distance only to see that Sebastian had thrown it with a glare on his face. The fact that Sebastian was keeping table knives from his pocket is scary enough but no, he's really mad. Oh, the butler wasn't done and had already lost his composure that he even jabbed a punch on the jaw that even MC was sure that it dislocated the man's jaw when he heard a crack.

-It didn't end there. Sebastian made sure that his bones was broken starting from the arm down to the toe and left the man bleeding that even his white glove was covered in crimson.

[ubemango]

commission 1: soft and silly dad!seokjin

this was for his bday hehe!!!!!! Thank you to anon for your help+request :)

“How long have we had that table?”

You pause with your drying, bowl cold from Seokjin's rinsing. The oakwood isn't as scrubbed clean as you'd hoped but Seoyoon isn't as meticulous with a dish rag as you like to be. "I don't know. Eight years?"

"Lasted a long time," he says. "Ikea stuff is nice. We got our bed there too right?"

"Yeah."

"And we've been pretty rough with that bed."

Seokjin feigns concentration with soapy hands on the pile of dishes to hide from your glowering. At the very least he saved the joke for when the kids have left the dining room. "Your point?"

"Just thinking about the—durability of our household items."

"Very introspective of you."

"I try," Seokjin sighs. You hear the tumble of building blocks just beyond the door frame, the squeal of a frustrated toddler and her little brother incapable of keeping the tower upright. At least that's what Seoyoon had complained about earlier; who knows what Junsu's been up to with his newfound 6-month-old motor skills. "Should I check on them?"

You shake your head. "Nah. Seoyoon's old enough to scream for us if she needs the help."

"Maybe Junsu's knocked over."

"He knows how to sit up."

"But those cheeks. Weighs him down so much he'll be hunched over at the back before I hit fifty."

His shoulders rumble with laughter he wants you to join in on, but you just elbow him out of the way to reach the shelves. "You think you're funny making fun of your own son."

"Nothing wrong with big cheeks," Seokjin clarifies. He tosses the sponge into place, rinses the rest of the plates. Then he slaps your ass with a still-wet hand. "Like these ones right here."

"I will kill you."

"You won't."

"You bought those fancy knives to cook, I use them to kill you." They stay slotted in the wooden holder, just an arms-reach away. You'd threaten him more if all your effort wasn't going into tippy toeing the cups into the highest shelf.

"You won't," he laughs again. "Babe you've been reaching to put that glass up there for a billion years, I'll do it."

"I can reach it."

Seokjin squeaks the water off. You can feel him watching your struggle, the squeak of his drying rag interfering with your quiet attempts to get the glass standing. He doesn't say anything when he walks over to the other side to stack the plates away. Not until he's right up against your back, bumping your hand away with his own to place the glass away for you. "Now what kind of husband would I be if I let my wife struggle like that."

"You think this gets you points." Your retort doesn't stand a chance against the warmth of his mouth on your neck. In the blanket of dark evening and dimmed kitchen lights, you melt. "Honey..."

He squeezes around your stomach. "C'mon. I call putting Seoyoon to bed."

"Whoever's done first gets the wine out after," you barter. Seokjin leaves one more kiss of agreement before you both go out to corral the kids, one of whom is, in fact, sprawled on his back because of those goddamn cheeks.

"Oh my baby," you coo, grabbing Junsu by his armpits. "Seoyoon, go with daddy to brush teeth okay?"

"M'kay. Can I ki-iss Junsu bye night?"

You crouch in the heap of multi-coloured building blocks, Seoyoon hobbling over for her obligatory kiss good night. Junsu's hair isn't as thick as his sister's but she ruffles through it like it is. "Ni' night!"

Seokjin grabs her hand, gaze soft. "See you in twenty?"

"I want the Currant tonight," you challenge, and you hear Seoyoon question mommy's choice in wine with a small what's coo-want? as her dad whisks her away up the stairs. Junsu stirs in your embrace, mumbling low noises as you follow. "You'll shower tomorrow bubba, I see your eyes closing already."

It doesn't take long for Junsu to go down. He feeds fast, and you realize it's because he'd pooped dinner out during playtime. Made for a thorough clean-up and a giggling Junsu because wet wipes make him feel happy. 

His full hamper of laundry remains untouched. You'd promised yourself you'd do it tonight for the sake of a cheaper water bill but the dryer is too loud for Seoyoon to sleep to. The contemplation of failed household duties can wait, though; you've got red wine to indulge in, a husband to complain to if he’s in the mood.

The building blocks are stowed away in the box of toys by the time you come downstairs. Seokjin's just about done pouring wine in a second glass when you settle in the couch, bones aching with the phantom pains of a long work day. Netflix stays idle on your TV screen. He hands you a glass, and you both take a quiet sip.

"Seoyoon really likes that book about spiders." Seokjin rests a lazy arm on the back of the sofa. It's an unspoken agreement as you sidle right into his side. "Did your mom get that for her?"

"I think so." 

"She likes to read like she knows how to read."

"Big brain. Gets it--"

"--From me," Seokjin says at the same time. He heeds to the pinch in his ribs with a yelp. "You may have a big forehead but who has the bigger brain cells?"

"You don't have to be rude!" You snort. He won't listen to the command, you know he won't. But he nods because it's what a nice husband does, and a nice husband also probably wants to get in your pants but he won't say it outright. Not at this hour. Half-asleep with the blur of a tipsy beginning and the paranoia of two slumbering children a floor above. 

"You don't have a big forehead," he admits to silence. You're both too lazy to reach for the remote on the side table. It's sweeter, the mindless atmosphere you soften under. Without all the static nonsense of movies you won’t pay attention to because the baby monitor sits as priority on the coffee table. "But even if you did it's not a bad thing."

"Stop talking about my forehead."

"Yes ma'am." 

The wine is slick along your throat. Seokjin doesn’t complain when you burrow deeper in his shoulder. “A year older, huh.”

“Still as sexy as ever,” he adds. You’re too tired to snark back. He’s not lying anyway. “If you still feel bad about not throwing a party, I’m telling you again: it’s okay.”

“But—“

“Honey, look how tired you are.”

It’s almost funny because you didn’t even notice your eyes had closed. “You know I would’ve been happy to host something.”

“Yeah. And I’m just as happy making dinner and washing dishes with you and reading to Seoyoon about spiders,” Seokjin says. 

You want to spite your boss for making you work overtime on your husband’s birthday. But coming home to your family is still as untouched a feeling as ever, and Seokjin gave you the gentlest smile and Seoyoon squealed into your tummy in her hug, and Junsu—well, Junsu was napping. All your worlds tucked into the walls of your small home. Everything’s alright when you feel them near.

“Are you happy?” You ask.

“Always.” Seokjin takes your glass by the stem, sets them beside the static of Junsu’s snoring. “Lie down with me.”

His chest is warm against your ear. “Sometimes I forget you’re my husband.”

“Whaddya mean?”

“Like you married me,” you clarify. “I don’t know. Just—coming home today was really nice.”

“I was thinking about that today, actually.”

“Hm.”

“I was born. And then I met you. And now we have our own kids to take care of.” Seokjin sighs. “Crazy how our lives pan out, huh.”

“Right,” you agree. 

“I’m thankful for you. And Seoyoon and Junsu. And that our furniture holds up, and we have a house to live in.”

“Christ. That wine made us sappy.”

“You started it,” he argues. In the corner of your eye, Junsu stirs his neck to the side. You linger in your red-tinged breaths combined. “It was a good birthday.”

“Promise?”

“I promise. I mean you rode me first thing in the morning—you know you have the best hips on this Earth?”

You burn. With pride mostly, but you steal a bite to his jaw for an angry effect. “You’re welcome.”

“I love you,” Seokjin kisses into your hair. “Even though you work too hard.”

You won’t disagree. It’s hard to come up with a coherent response, too focused on his lungs swelling with yours. Twined in his warmth like you both wanted today. He starts again with a funny story about Junsu and falling over, and you don’t say anything when he grabs your hand to fiddle with your wedding ring. 

[love-fireflysong]

Until Dawn’s Fifth Birthday

Welp, congrats Until Dawn, you’re officially old enough to start kindergarten. You’re off to learn to read, tie your shoes, recite yous ABC’s, and learn to count to 100. Your such a big kid now, and I’m proud of you for making it this far.

I know I have done literal jack shit for the entire month, but I have been immensely enjoying the things that everyone’s been putting out for this month. So I’m gonna make this text post, not just because of it’s the five year anniversary, but because it’s actually a post I’ve been wanting to make for a while.

So here it goes:

I first learned of Until Dawn when it first came out hilariously enough. My roommate at the time had boughten it for her ps4 and I had been seeing it all over my dashboard on tumblr at the time. I didn’t play it myself though until close to a year later, when I finally had my own ps4 and I bought the game used for like $20 or something from my local game rental store. And I was hooked.

I remember jumping the first time the UD logo pulls that jump scare on the title screen. And laughing because I’m normally pretty good with jump scares, but that one managed to get me because I hadn’t been expecting one before I even started the game. (The one thing in the game that manages to make me jump every time is the mine cart you stop as Mike. For whatever reason it doesn’t matter how dark my room is when I play the game or how many times I’ve played it, I can never see the mine cart until its literally on top of Mike and the QTE is almost up and I squeak in surprise every fucking time.)  

Of course I didn’t manage to save everyone during my first playthrough, I definitely lost Matt to the hook and Ash to the trapdoor (RIP darlings), and for the life of me I can’t recall how the lodge scene at the end went. I’m one of those players though that try to make choices that the characters I’m playing as would, I throw my feelings by the wayside. For example, being in the shed when the game’s making me choose Ash or Josh, and I was debating on whether or not Chris would save the girl he’s had a major crush on for a while at least, or his best friend for the last ten years. I distinctly remember wincing and sucking in air through my teeth and going “Sorry Ash, bros before hoes” and choosing Josh. And then being confused and convinced that I misunderstood the instructions? I mean I wasn’t complaining, just really, really confused. I definitely choose Ash to live at the gun one though, like there was no hesitation. I watched the whole ‘only thing I’ve ever wanted to do with my time’ scene and talk and the moment control was given back to me, the gun was under Chris’s jaw and I fired.

I’m also one of the players that didn’t know that Josh had been behind everything until the reveal either. I had gotten Sam captured so I never got any of those clues and I managed to miss the other clues that hinted at it being a set up (like the bundle of newspapers). So until the reveal I was still convinced that someone was out there killing all of them. Listen, I like mystery games but I’m not very good at connecting the dots okay.

I think I stuck around for a couple of months, gorging myself of fanfiction (all ff.net stuff by the way, I can’t remember if I knew about ao3 at that point or not) but like all interests do with me, the obsession eventually faded (helped in a large part by the rampant Ashley hate going around at the time) and I moved on.

Until February of this year. I was trying to kill time till the end of March when Persona 5: Royal released and I decided to try and see how many games I could platinum until that point. I had made it through the ps3 tomb raider games, Prince of Persia 2008, and decided on replaying the Uncharted games because the ps4 collection didn’t have multiplayer trophies. I hadn’t even thought of replaying Until Dawn. I mean, I had looked at the case and I remembered the game fondly, but that was it. There was no urge or want. 

I was halfway through Among Thieves when I was bored and chilling time on Youtube. And because I had been watching a couple of videos for the treasure locations in Uncharted, one of the recommended videos for me was a game sins for the series. I decided sure why not, and watched it. And watched a few of his other ones as well, Until Dawn included.

That’s right, what got me back into the series wasn’t fond nostalgia for the characters or story. It was a fucking Game Sins video. I’m so sorry.

I was devouring UD content again. I spent like 2 or 3 weeks reading everything Chrashley (with the hyper-fixation for the game back came the ship, what can I say) based on ao3 that I could get my hands on. I was back into the tag on tumblr, going through art I remembered seeing way back when and looking at usernames that didn’t mean a thing then, but mean the world to me now. And then near the end of February, when the obsession was once again starting to flag, I decided to hell with it, and clicked on the The (Almost)s.

I’m not going to expunge all my praises for the story, everyone else has done that better then I ever could. But guys, it was so good. So so good. I was hooked back into the series once again, just as I was starting to flag. And when I saw that @queenofbaws had mentioned that she was tumblr... I didn’t do anything right away. Too scared really, figured she might find it creepy, so I didn’t do anything for like a week. And then I decided fuck it, sent a message about Chris giving Ash his sweater, and following her.

And that was it. I figured I would stick around to see the story completed and just dip. Not even make a splash, just enjoy the content from the sidelines and no one would know that I was here in the first place. Same old, same old. But that was also when I started turning around the kernel in my mind that Baby It’s Cold Outside (so hold me tight in your arms and don’t let go). I didn’t even intend to write it, it was just going to be the fanfic that lived in my mind for me to stew on before bed every night. But I couldn’t sleep one night, my brain was too on and the words just weren’t stopping, so I pulled out my computer and wrote the first part from Chris standing in the snow outside to him reaching the lodge at like 3 in the morning. 

I started becoming more involved in the fandom when queenie started her wip wednesdays and asked to be tagged. Hilariously enough, those days are what started me cross-stitching again too, I hadn’t touched the pattern in months at that point. So I started posting snippets of my writing, and that one day a week was the only thing pushing me to continue writing. By that point, I had stopped hanging around the edges, now trying to push myself closer into this little fandom circle. 

The day I posted the story, I was fucking terrified. It wasn’t my first story, not by a long shot, but I had always considered my writing to be shit. I thought I had good ideas, but I never felt that I was able to truly bring them to life. English and grammar had never been my best subject, I was always more of a math and physics person growing up. But then that first comment from @elliepollie came in and I almost burst into tears. I couldn’t believe that someone out there liked it so much, that they were willing to leave me a review in the first place. I’m still so blown away that she was willing to recommend it as a Chrashley story for other people to read. I think that was the point I stopped hesitantly pushing my way through, and I just kicked down the doors and just yelled ‘Hey fuckers! I’m here now and you are going to fucking deal with it!’.

That was the event that opened the floodgates for me. Suddenly I was talking to people, I had friends online with the same interests as me. I’ve written more in the last six months then I’ve done in the last ten years! I’m feeling inspired to create again. I actually went out to do the first commission I’ve ever requested (speaking of which, please please please go commisson @fudgeroach. I cannot wait until he can post and show you guys the stuff he drew for me. It was worth every fucking penny let me tell you.)

I’m going to be honest, Until Dawn isn’t my favourite game. Sure it has some of my fav lines (it had been years since I played the game, and the moment Jess started her rant outside the guest cabin I was screaming it along with her) and great characters, as horrible people as they all are, but it’s never been my favourite game and likely never will be. But Until Dawn has the best fandom I’ve ever been in and I’m so, so happy to have met and known every single person here. I seriously love every single person here so, so much. You all make my life better and I’m so happy to have all of you in it. Just to quote Chris because I can: “Every second I spend with you is all I ever wanted to do with my time.” This is how I feel. This is how I feel every goddamn day now.

So yeah, I got back into this fandom from a stupid Game Sins video. But by god if it wasn’t the best choice I’ve ever made.

(PS: for those wondering, I never did finish Uncharted 2. Maybe one day...) 

[writethehousedown]

In My Head, We Belong (Crystal/Gigi) Chapter Two -- Zyan

a/n: hey guys! here’s chapter two. we’re doing the same thing as genie au, so this chapter is mostly crystal’s pov. :) in case you’re interested, i did a playlist for the fic, and most of these songs reflect the fic and the characters emotions, so it’d be cool if you listen to it while you read. as always, frey is the best beta and my sideblog is @chachkisalpaca

“Crystal!”

Crystal turns around, looking for Gigi’s voice in the crowd of people. She knits her brows in a frown, holding on tight to her umbrella. It’s not raining as much as the past days, it’s rather faint, but she’s got nice eyeliner for the first time in ages and she doesn’t wanna ruin it.

Gigi appears in her vision range a moment later, elbowing people to get to her. She doesn’t have an umbrella; instead she’s got a yellow raincoat slightly longer than her uniform. Crystal smiles a little, thinking she looks like a cute little duck.

“Hey,” she greets breathlessly. Crystal covers the both of them with the umbrella and starts to walk again.

“Whatcha doing with the uniform? Are you cheating on Widow with another restaurant?” Crystal asks with a giggle. Gigi laughs softly, shaking her head slightly.

“No, I’m just cheating on the night shift,” she replies nonchalantly, “Apparently Blair called in sick; she’s got fever or something like that. Widow asked me if I could cover for her just for today.” Gigi shrugged, trying to tame her wet hair.

“Oh, shit, I hope she gets better. She and Jan always put on a musical on Wednesdays, it’s everyone’s favorite part of the day,” she comments with a small smile.

Crystal doesn’t have that many shifts in the morning, only on Wednesdays and Fridays, and the rest of the time she works nights, but she always looks forward to Wednesdays for Jan and Blair’s spontaneous musicals.

Wednesdays are also the days John comes by to have breakfast at the restaurant and Crystal elbows everyone on her way to serve him.

“The morning shift sounds nice and all, but I usually do most of my orders in the morning. I couldn’t sew to save my life when I’m tired, y’know?” Gigi says, Crystal then remembers about Gigi’s independent job as a designer and seamstress.

“How’s business going, by the way?”

Gigi smiles widely and pulls out her phone as she wraps an arm around Crystal’s bicep. She shows her a photo of a messy sewing room with five mannequins half dressed.

“So far it’s going great. Apparently there’ll be a lot of weddings in spring, because I’m mostly getting commissioned by people who are attending to a wedding. It’s nice though, I’ve always liked weddings.”

“Are you a romantic gal, Miss Gigi?” Crystal asks with a sneaky smile. Gigi rolls her eyes as she puts her phone back into her pocket.

“Not at all; it just happens that weddings are especially good for spreading my name around. There’s always that one aunt, you know which one, that goes around talking shit and doing condescending compliments that no one likes. She’s always the one to ask ‘where did you get that dress?’ in the most insulting way ever, though she secretly likes it. Once she gets the name she sends her children to find the designer on social media, because of course she does, and then she contacts me, and now she’s causing envy in her social circle, and her friends need to know who did that suit for her.” Gigi finishes her ramble taking a deep breath.

Crystal cackles loudly at Gigi’s rant, covering her mouth with her free hand to try and stop it. Gigi is possibly the most expressive person when it comes to telling stories, and she loves it.

“Oh my God, has any of that actually happened?” She manages to question between hiccups of laughter. Gigi shrugs.

“A couple of times,” she admits, and they both fall into a fit of laughter.

Laughing with Gigi is a nice way to start the day, it helps her distract from the fact John left her on read when she sent him a nice good morning message, and she’s not really sure if it’s good or bad, though it’s probably the latter.

*

The restaurant has a nice vibe in the mornings, with all the plants Widow bought to decorate the place along with the endless photos and portraits hanging from the walls, it looks more like a house with too many tables and chairs, rather than a restaurant.

Crystal comes and goes between the tables, serving coffee to men in suits, kind grandpas, and brings crying children a sweet treat as requested by their parents to make them shut up.

Jan is sad to hear her singing partner isn’t feeling well, but she still sings while she delivers orders nonetheless. Gigi watches her while she giggles and tries to record her for the restaurant’s group chat. Crystal has to admit that though she misses Blair, it’s interesting to see Jan trying to sing a duo all by herself.

When the performance is over, Crystal goes back to looking at the entrance every other minute, hoping to see John behind the glass with his fancy suit and charming smile.

She checks the hour in her wrist watch. 8:45 a.m. He should come in any moment, she musters to herself.

*

It’s 10 a.m. and there’s no sign on John yet.

Crystal is trying to block out the fact he’s left her on read and hasn’t appeared yet by trying to look interested in Jan and Gigi’s conversation.

The traffic has slowed down a little, and since all of their current customers already have their orders, the three girls are chatting near the kitchen.

“Jan, I swear to God spring has something that’s especially good for weddings, because yours will be the sixth dress I have to make,” Gigi says as she stares at the design Jan is showing her. “In fact, I was talking to Crystal about it when we ran into each other earlier today,” she comments and Crystal is now forced to actually pay attention to the conversation.

“I think it can be because people find it romantic to have a wedding when the flowers are blooming,” Crystal offers as an explanation, shifting her weight from one foot to another, trying to ignore how heavy her phone feels in the pocket of her uniform. “Whose wedding are you going to, by the way?”

“I think I have told y’all about my cousin Cheryl, the one that looks a lot like me,” Jan wonders. The name echoes through Crystal’s head.

“The UK girl that came for your birthday party last year?” Crystal asks, knitting her brows in a frown.

“Yeah, her! She’s getting married later this spring, and thankfully I don’t have to worry about the plane ticket because she’s, like, from the rich side of the family, so they’re paying for my flight.” Jan flips her hair a little and Gigi whistles.

“No wonder why you want such a fancy design. What? Are you gonna try to seduce one of her British friends?” She asks with a snort and the girls laugh. Crystal notices the scrutinizing look Gigi gives Jan and tilts her head.

Jan blushes a little and bites her lower lip.

“I dunno, I think I’ve already got someone here…” She leaves the sentence hanging in the air and excuses herself from the conversation by saying she saw one of her customers wave at her.

Crystal frowns a little and Gigi snickers, covering her mouth with her hand. She looks at Gigi with a slight frown.

“What’s so funny?”

Gigi looks at her with a smirk; her left brow is slightly cocked as she looks back at Jan.

“What? Did you not know she’s sleeping with Jaida?” She inquires, now looking at Crystal with her head tilted to the side, completely confused.

Crystal’s mouth hangs open for a solid minute before she gasps a little, looking back and forth between Jan and Gigi.

“No way!” She manages to say, and Gigi lets out a chuckle. “I would’ve never guessed. How’d you know?”

“Did you really not know? Girl, you’re the one that shares a shift with Yuhua, that bitch’s the biggest snitch ever. She told Brianna one time she had to cover for you and then Brianna told me. I thought you knew.”

Crystal blinks repeatedly, scratching to the back of her brain in hopes of remembering Yuhua telling her anything about it, but she can’t, she’s in blank.

“Apparently everyone knew but me,” Crystal mumbles, suddenly realizing how much sense it all makes. It’d explain why Jan is always shooing them when it’s her and Jaida’s turn to close the restaurant on the night shifts.

Well, she should’ve suspected something with such blatant signs, but if Crystal is known for something, it’s how oblivious she is.

“Well, everyone knows Jan has a massive crush on Jaida but Jaida herself,” Gigi comments softly, fearing that Jan would hear them.

Crystal sighs. Of course Jan and Jaida are sleeping together and Jan is the one pining. For a moment it reminds her of the ‘friends with benefits’ trope she used to read — and write, but that’s something she won’t talk about — in One Direction Fanfics.

“Imagine having a crush on someone you literally work and sleep with, but they ain’t got a clue.” She snorts, turning to see Gigi. Gigi’s looking at her with her lips slightly pursed, the emotion in her eyes is one Crystal can’t put a finger on.

Gigi parts her lips slightly, but shuts them almost instantly. She gives a soft sigh before excusing herself.

Crystal aims to go after her, but her phone vibrates and she smiles when she pulls it out and sees it’s a call from John, forgetting about Gigi’s weird behavior in a heartbeat.

*

John apologizes profusely for not having texted to tell her he had a super important meeting out of the city, but he swears he’ll make it up to her with dinner at her favorite restaurant. He tells her he’s picking her up and Crystal is grateful that she always brings another set of clothes to work; you never know when a bratty toddler will spill their lunch on you.

He arrives just when she’s about to finish her shift and waits for her by the entrance. Crystal sprints towards the bathroom with her bag hanging from her arm the moment her wrist watch indicates her shift is over.

She gets changed with a toothy smile, trying not to take too long, because punctuality is something John is greatly obsessed with, and re-applies her lipstick, feeling all giddy.

Gigi enters to the bathroom with her hair down, still wearing her uniform. She’s got her backpack on her arm and her raincoat hanging from her shoulders, Crystal smiles at the image she had that morning of Gigi as a little duck.

“Hey, what got you so happy?” Gigi asks with a little smile, setting her backpack on the counter.

Crystal cleans the edges of her lips before replying.

“My guy’s waiting for me; we’re going to have dinner together. Isn’t he cute? He wants to make it up to me because he couldn’t be at the restaurant this morning,” she replies with the excitement showing in her tone. Gigi rummages through her backpack, jerking her head up a little.

“Is he the guy in the dark blue suit? The one by the entrance?” Gigi wonders with her brows slightly knit in a frown. Crystal nods enthusiastically.

“Yes! He’s cute, right?” She repeats and Gigi smiles, though it looks somewhat forced.

“He looks very nice indeed.”

[rkivepacks]

TITLE: i’m good, i love you Series: why are you sorry? it’s not your fault you don’t love me [see previous work] Pairing: taekook/kookv/vkook (Kim Taehyung & Jeon Jungkook) Rating: PG13 Genre: angst but you’ll live Word Count: 2,029 Trigger Warning/s: swearing(?), one or two sentences of questioning self worth but not too graphic Cross-posted on: AO3/dtgloss

NOTES: ∟ banner by @rkivepacks​ ∟ request banner here ∟ request prompt/send commission here

∟ unbeta-ed ∟ the requests for a sequel for the first one was from a long time ago and im p sure when they said requests they were hoping for a fluff one but i wasnt in the mood for fluffy when i did this so...

Summary:   the difference between want and have is you

his eyes roam the words carefully printed on the wall, on the lower left part of the painting. it is where the title, date and artist are usually placed.

a piece of me is always found right beside you it follows you wherever you go it’s lonely from what i see where i stay far from you

alone.

taehyung, these days, is alone.

he is used to it but routine never makes it okay to be alone.

his sadness should not be a routine but, oh well, it is.

he stays in his average house that’s one in the lined town houses in the village. the area itself is decongested, only the people habituating each house goes in and out of their little village and everyone is almost familiar, if not knows, each other.

his own house in particular looks lived on. more so on the side of used but not so worn out. maybe the walls are not as white and clean as they used to be, a few scratches and dirts that got on it as days pass by but no ceiling has started falling down unprompted and everything works how they’re assigned to function.

taehyung would like to think he’s more sad than alone. he still has friends anyway but friends cannot always live with you on your house guised under the cover of it being a sleepover that turns into days.

but friends just like him have their own personal matters and cannot always be with him. he understands when hoseok cannot stay for more than two days and has to leave just before lunch to meet up with a close friend of his, one from outside of their group of friends so taehyung can’t have the option to ask to come with. he understands when jimin cannot come on days he’s asking him to and sometimes comes on a saturday instead of his friday night invite.

when he’s so down, he thinks he’s not entitled to his friends times but they assure him it’s not the case.

so no, he is not alone.

he goes over to the next display, going over the sculpture itself and then to the artist description posed near the display. the sculpture itself is a form that resembles a man that is slightly haunched, although it takes more than a second to realize as the form only captures the head to chest of a human body, but considering that the back part of it protrudes slightly the way a man would when lax. the main body is that of charcoal color but it was designed to portray a visual effect of a dripping paint from its head, represented with different colors which are bright enough to contrast its dark body.

the display is almost familiar and it has been staring at him longer than he stared at it.

the title is printed in bold, a sinner

love is not a sin but my thoughts about you and the way i see the word love around you is

taehyung moves on to another display, it being a worn out stack of paper that looks as if it has 300 pages of a4’s binded by a clip. he steps closer to it to inspect, knowing displays are off limits and can only be appreciated through the eyes, he skims over the word of what he found out would be a script of some sort.

he reads,

i’m drunk, i love you

the difference between want and have is you

he walks over to the last one if its placement by the exit is anything to go by, just like the last one he’s looked over, it’s a display with a single ring in the middle.

all alone

and it sits there as if it has been assigned to mock him and the ring that sits on the very bottom and far end of a box full of things he doesn’t need but can’t seem to throw away.

he reads the title and wow, yes. it’s definitely mocking him. he had been giving it the benefit of the doubt but the title is the last straw. this whole exhibit is out to mock him.

taehyung thinks he’s being over dramatic. but he also thinks this last display is offensive to him, absolutely personal.

—

taehyung sits at home, eyes on the tv he has playing as he waits for night time news.

it seems like the words of the last display he went to see that day have been imprinted on his brain, on the wall in front of him, on the ceiling as he looks up, when he close his eyes.

—

Once you told me, your eyes are always on me.

And you did, you took care of me.

Because you are that kind of person.

You put me before you.

All the time.

Which is why you are the best.

To be honest, I would not even put me before me.

—

taehyungiehyungihyung,

have you been well? i hope you are. the longest time i’ve been away from you is now and still counting— the present. the second one would be during Christmas breaks because you and your family spend it on your relatives home alternately and don’t come back until after new years. anyway... is your hair longer now? i hope it is and i hope you dont cut it. i seem to have a lot of hopes.

im packing up for a trip to a long trail not too far from here. they said it was too pretty to pass up and you get to reach the clouds.

, jungkook

taehyung reads the letter. he received it yesterday late afternoon and it doesnt have a date. jungkook often forgets to write dates so he assumes they were written at least three days ago.

it wasnt the first letter he received. he doesnt keep count but he has a few kept behind his door where he puts his mails.

in the first letter, jungkook said its best to not have taehyung write back. he goes from one place to another, he said. so, taehyung merely reads them and keeps them.

in the first letter, he also said about his sudden departure. he wanted to be away for a while and he knows his best friend would need him for the wedding so he decided to do it after. he didnt even get to say goodbye and only got a whiff of the younger when the letter came that day.

jungkook didnt say why he left and where he went. he just did. right after taehyung’s wedding, he packed up and went away from taehyung’s vicinity as far as he could.

does he know? taehyung asks. does he know i’m not married anymore?

—

his divorce with minji was something that stemmed off a petty thing.

falling out of love is a petty thing.

but, he guesses, they both cannot trap themselves in a house they’re not happy in anymore.

it was sudden, the divorce.

minji told him that she doesnt feel the same anymore. they agreed to stay off the house and after more than a week of a cool off she said she doesnt feel anything at all.

in taehyung’s case, he did not feel it the same way minji did. he only noticed once minji told him she felt that way. it made him feel that the heaviness in the room when they’re both in it was a foreboding for something.

taehyung is a giving lover. the time away from minji made him think a lot. he knows he doesn’t have a choice but to agree on the separation. forbid his thoughts, but he doesn’t want the time to come when the both of them completely falls out of love and seeks warmth from another person and then go home at night to sleep in the same bed.

he texts minji, because as accepting as he is about the decision, he’s not too keen watching a soon to be ex wife pack up and leave.

both of them were gradually moving out their personal items from the house. properties they bought with their shared money will be sold as secondhand items and some are donated.

in between moving out and settling in to a new apartment, he’s had namjoon and jimin with him and if yoongi has extra time mostly at night, he helps sort out his things.

he knew there was a missing person. he wanted to tell jungkook about it.

but jungkook wasn’t there.

—

until one day, jungkook is back.

suddenly, he’s there attending the dinner party for jin’s birthday, sat beside hoseok.

he casted him wary glances throughout the night. at some point he was even referencing to taehyung like everything’s so normal, but taehyung knows it’s just a very jungkook way of letting him know ‘i’m here and i will talk to you and acknowledge your presence whether you like it or not’. taehyung isn’t one for being petty so he went along with it. thankfully, their friends don’t seem to give too much thought into their two other friends sat on the opposite sides of the table.

the next day, jungkook seems to have arrived in taehyung’s new home at the same time a delivery for taehyung came. it eased jungkook’s nerves that he doesn’t have to go through knocking and then purposefully being ignored.

“did you order anything?” jungkook asks just as the delivery person makes their leave.

“i went and bought some essential oils.” taehyung silently gestures for the other to come in and jungkook did, locking the door behind him.

“how are you, taehyungie?” jungkook was sat in front of taehyung in the living room. there’s only the makeshift coffee table and some mats on the floor to sit on since taehyung have yet to buy a sofa.

“tired these days. in between work and unpacking. i’m jealous of kids who do nothing when they’re moving into a new home because they get a free pass to not do things around.” taehyung pouts silently, looking at the soda in can at hand while he traces a finger on the lid.

jungkook chuckles at that and after, no one speaks until, “i’ve heard about it.”

when taehyung makes no motion to respond to it, jungkook continues, “jimin hyung mentioned it to me one time that they were helping you move out so i asked... sorry.”

“it’s okay. i had friends who helped me. i got by.” taehyung winces.

“i wasn’t.” jungkook says, the here that follows hangs in the air which they know would follow.

“you were busy.” taehyung says instead.

jungkook would retaliate but he knows there’s no point.

“i sent you an invite to my exhibit. you went?” jungkook asks, hopeful.

“i did.”

“you didn’t insist to text me or write. i kind of assumed you would once you see it, but it’s okay. at least you did go to it.” jungkook pats his own thigh lightly to distract him.

“i wouldn’t know what to say. at the wedding, and even before that. i would feel something but i didn’t want to be that person and assume. i could be seeing it wrong, i don’t know.” taehyung rambles. “but then the other boys would also drop a few comments here and then.” and it’s true. sometimes jin would say teasing words and taehyung only acts as if he doesn’t get it and sometimes, he acts as if he didn’t hear it at all.

“you were happy. i don’t have any excuse.” jungkook whispers.

“now-“

“now what?”

“i guess to some extent, i liked you back. but i didn’t see it until now so i’m not going to rush this and jump into a relationship with you right away. it’s not fair to the both of us.”

“i understand. after all, your divorce is not yet finalized. i’d be here for you but i’m not gonna distract you from it.” jungkook assures him and that’s all he needs. everything will be okay.

“i know it’s the last day of your exhibit today. wanna go together?” taehyung smiles at jungkook and indeed, everything’s okay.

[crue-sixx]

The Game of Life

Title: The Game of Life

Author: tiddly-winx

Summary: A prequel to The FUNeral.  You're an outstanding character when you meet a charming blonde and his friends.

Warnings: swearing, death and sickness, drug use

It was Christmas and you were spending it alone at the Troubadour.  Your family didn't want you near them (save for your sister Kathy, 15 years old at the time).  You rolled the blood packet meant for Halloween in your mouth waiting for some douchebag to tell you those words you heard so often.  It didn't take too long for him to show up.  Of course he was hammered when he slurred "Heeeeeey baybeh" he stumbled over to you "Wha's a pretty thang like you doin' all alone at Christmas?"

You brushed him off with "Lookin' to get laid" you rolled eyes, you had no intention of sleeping with someone too drunk to know what he was doing.

"I can do that, sweetheart" he put his arm around you "but you'd look much prettier if you smiled!"

That was the moment you'd been waiting for, so you bit down on the blood packet and pushed the fake blood out of your mouth, your teeth stained red, dripping onto the best ugly Christmas sweater you had in your arsenal.  He recoiled and left you alone.  You were relieved and wiped your face with  your sleeve. and went along with your business.

At least you tried to go on with your business, but a voice behind you said "Hot damn girl! That was awesome!" you were annoyed at this but you turned to see four grown men dressed in glam rock costumes and more make-up than the prostitutes that worked the corners.

You glanced over and said "Thanks,  It's a little late for Halloween don't you think?"

"We're the band!" the blonde one laughed, taking the comment in stride. "We're Motley Crue!"

"Huh" you said, unimpressed.  You hadn't been paying attention to the music.  You had been busy tinkering with a music box you had been working on-your job was an apprenticeship at a clock maker's shop.  Music boxes were your hobby, and people were willing to pay you for them.  This one was almost finished-all you had to do was fix the music source and paint it to the buyer's specifications and it would be done.

"You don't seem too enthusiastic" said one with black hair, all of it covering his face.  All you could see was his nose, mouth and chin.  

"Sorry" you were sincere in your apology "I just have a deadline to get this thing done by" you backed off and showed them.

"So why the fuck did you come out if you had to get it done?" the tall one said, confused.

"I didn't want to stay cooped up in my apartment at Christmas" you said, which was true.

"Tell ya what" the blonde one said "Take it back to your place then come on over to our place and party with us!"  he put an arm around you "We'll give ya a Christmas you'll never forget" he winked.

"Sorry, not interested in that" you winked back.  You knew what he meant "but I'll come over and get bombed with  you!"

"That sounds cool!" the tall one said "I'm Tommy, this is Nikki" he patted the bassist's head, to which he growled "blondie over here's Vince and the old dude" he jutted his thumb to a man who couldn't be more than a few years older than they were "the man from Mars, Mick Motherfuckin' Mars!" the man in question gave a shy wave while nursing a bottle of vodka.

"I'm Y/N" you shook hand with them.  You're place wasn't that far from their apartment so you climbed through the window like you'd seen other people do.  Vince greeted you and helped you inside.

The whole apartment was popping with activity, people drinking, snorting, shooting up and fucking all around you.  You didn't mind and joined in even, slapping some people's naked asses.  "So why were you alone on Christmas?" Tommy asked "Don't you have a family?"

"Well yeah but they don't like me" you said, them telling you that you were the biggest mistake they'd ever made "guess they thought having me and getting married would save their relationship..."

Tommy looked away and said "Sorry..."

"Nah, I do have a little sister that likes me" you smiled, Kathy being the only one of your siblings that you actually liked.  "When she turns 18 she's leaving my parents and coming to live with me".

"So you were an oopsie baby?" Nikki asked, Tommy shooting him a glare.

"Yep. Pretty much" you laughed, not taking offense at all.

Nikki chuckled "Yeah, me too" he extended his hand for a fist bump and you obliged him.  He then offered you a line of coke, to which you happily snorted it up with one giant inhalation.

The next day, you woke up on their couch in the clothes you had on the night before.  You stretched out and saw that a few other bodies where strewn around the floor and beds.  Mick was the only one awake and trying to make breakfast with the filthiest equipment ever.  You stopped him and said "Let's go to Denny's.  My treat" you winked at him.

While you were eating, you asked "Why're you hanging around with those three wild animals?  You seem way calmer than they are?"

"They're my band" he smiled warmly.  "Though they may act like stupid rug monkeys most of the time, they're kinda like my family" you had to laugh at that, it was just too cute.

You decided to invite them over for dinner a few weeks after meeting them, on the condition they stay out of  your room where you kept the music boxes that you were working on.  They agreed and you had ordered Chinese, you couldn't cook to save your life and you wouldn't offend them by forcing them to eat your disgusting food.  You heard a knock at your door and thinking it was the delivery guy you opened it, only to see one of your buyers demanding an unfinished product.

"It's not finished yet" you told him "I will give you a call when it is and you can come get it then" you tried to shut the door but he pushed his way in your apartment "Get out asshole!"

"I ordered from you three days ago!  It should be done by now!"

"I told you it would be at least a month and you agreed to my terms!" you shouted at him.

"For three hundred bucks, I think you need to work harder!  You ain't cheap!  My daughter's birthday is tomorrow!"

"You should have thought about that and commissioned me a month ago then if you wanted it done by tomorrow!"

"I want you to do it for free, since you're so slow!"

You had heard this argument before from people who want your music boxes for free.  "The materials and parts needed alone cost about 50 bucks, plus the time it takes me to build these things covers the whole price!  What I do with one box in a month took me years to learn how to do.  That's why I only charge $150 up front and $150 upon completion. I will NOT spend all my time working on YOUR box alone.  I do have other customers, a job and a life outside of this. If you're unsatisfied I will give you the materials and you can make the damn box your own fuckin' self!" You did have a day job at the clock shop that paid your rent but this was something you enjoyed doing.

"I can just go to the toy store and buy one better!" he huffed "Since you don't want my business, I'll spread all shit about you and your boxes and tell people not to buy from you!"

"Whatever asshole!" you showed him out and into the arms of your dinner guests.

"This guy botherin' you Y/N?" Vince asked, taking a strong grip on the guys shoulder.

"Nah" you waved them off "Just another douche bag who wants my product for free" you had told them about people who refused to pay you for your boxes and how it happens more often that you'd like it to.  "Come on in, the food's on it's way!"

You had a great dinner and let them sleep over, Vince and Nikki sleeping in your bed with you, all of you too hammered to be fucking at all.  Tommy had taken up your couch while Mick was snoozing away in the chair.

A few years passed and the steady stream of people wanting your music boxes helped with the expenses.  The band had made it big, and they were some of your best customers.  They paid you much more than you asked for, you finding ways to slip their extra money back in their wallets.  Gifts for their wives, girlfriends or children you took extra care with these ones.

You eventually bought a house right by Vince's place, you secretly having a small crush on him.  The view was to die for, and you just loved the location.  You were fond of his wife Sharice and his little girl Skylar, you babysitting when they needed a date night.  Tonight you were working in the workshop when your doorbell rang.  "Who could it be at this hour?"

You were expecting one of your friends but were totally shocked to see four year old Skylar on your doorstep, the poor thing crying her eyes out.  "Skylar!  What's wrong sweetheart?" you took her in and gave her a cup of hot chocolate.

"Mommy and Daddy are fighting" she sniffled.  "It woke me up and scared me...so I went to a quiet place..."

You were livid at her parents, but you knew better than to take it out on the child.  You let her sleep in your bed and after you knew she was asleep you picked up the phone and called Vince's house.  Sharice answered the phone with "FOR FUCK'S SAKE WHAT?!" you pulled the phone away from your face until she was done screaming.

"Where's Skylar?" you asked, the other end of the line going silent.

"She's sleeping" Sharice snapped.

"I think you need to check" you advised "and put the phone in between you two.  I need you both to hear this" you waited until you heard Vince comment that she wasn't in her room. "You both here?"

"Yeah were here" Sharice was panicking "Do you know where Skylar is?!"

"She's over here" you said flatly "she showed up at my house about an hour ago in her night clothes crying.  She said your fighting woke her up and scared her" Vince and Sharice looked at each other, them not even seeing her leave the house.

"Can she stay over there for a few days while we try to sort things out?" Vince asked you, him on the verge of tears.

"Sure" you said, knowing all of Vince's vices and not daring to judge him on them.  You had your own problems, and couldn't nag at him.  It was like the pot calling the kettle black.

"I'll stop by later with some clothes and her toothbrush" Sharice added.  You knew they were headed for a divorce, but the kid being dragged into it was unfair.

You were playing tea party with her when all of a sudden, Skylar burst into tears.  "Hey now, honey" you hugged her to you "what's wrong?"

"Do Mommy and Daddy hate me?" she asked in her tears.

"What?!  Honey, no!" you brushed her tears away "What on earth gave you that idea?"

"Me staying with you" she blew her nose on your shirt. "Why don't they see me?"

You were contemplating on how to explain what was going on with Vince and Sharice to their four year old.  It wasn't your business to tell so you said "Mommy and Daddy are going through a rough patch and they're trying to work it out so you all can be happy..."  she wouldn't be able to understand that Vince had a problem with keeping his dick in his pants or drugs and alcohol out of his body.

"You sure?" she sniffled.

"I'm positive" you said and booped her nose, making her giggle.  A few days later, Vince came to your door with a sorrowful look in his eyes.

Skylar jumped on him, and gave him a big hug "Did you and Mommy work things out?"

He was trying to fake smile for the sake of his child "Not yet, baby.  We're trying..." he looked at you and tears were rolling down his face.  He quickly wiped them away when the little girl looked at him.  "Come on, Mommy's in the car" he gathered her things and before he went out the door he said quietly "I'll be over later...I need a place to stay a few days..."

"Sure Vinny" you said quietly.  You waited for him, and he came back a few hours later.  He was on his way to being wasted but you cut him off, locking your liquor cabinet.

"We're gettin' a divorce" he cried on your counter "I fucked up royally..."

"Hey" you rubbed his back "she's not trying to keep you from seeing Sky, right?"

"No, she's not" he answered,  "I'll have her every other weekend and she'll stay with Sharice the rest of the time.." he was shaking, Motley Crue about to go on tour and he wouldn't be able to see his daughter for a while.

You couldn't say anything, now was not the time for words.  You needed just to be there for him.  

A few months of uneventful bliss later was when you started to notice a change in yourself.  You were having headaches more often, and they were increasing in severity and duration.  Your sister Kathy had been living with you and she too noticed.  It was the day you had a seizure while working on a music box, that prompted Kathy to drag you to the doctor.

You hated doctors, but your life would change forever.  You had been given a diagnosis of brain cancer, and had the options of how you wanted to do your treatments.  You opted to go in and have them done through your arm.  You and Kathy kept everything under wraps as long as you could but the jig was up when Nikki rolled up your sleeve and saw your scars from the needles.  He glared at you, having been sober for a while "You been shooting up?!"

You pulled your arm away and said "It's not what you think, Nikki..."

"Then what is it?" he asked snarkily.

You and Kathy looked at each other and sighed "I have brain cancer.  These are from my chemo treatments..." his face fell and looked like he was about to cry.

"Why didn't you say anything?" he asked after he composed himself.

"Y'all have your own problems" you said, taking a swig of beer.  "You don't need me to add my baggage to the mix." 

"Does anyone else know?" he asked quietly.

"No" you answered "And don't you say anything to anyone."  He promised that he'd keep his mouth shut.

Later that night, you saw an ambulance drive past your house and to Sharice's.  You looked on in horror as you saw the little one being loaded into the vehicle.  You thought about calling Vince, but you knew Sharice would call him as soon as possible.

He called you the next day, through drunken sobs he said "She's got stomach cancer...my baby's got stomach cancer" your own heart sank at the news.  You went to go pick him up from the bar and take him back to your house.

You visited Skylar in the hospital as much as you could, your own sickness taking a backseat to comfort the family.  You eventually had to come clean and admit your own cancer to Vince, who just hugged to you him close.  The day that little girl died, you were getting a treatment and you went to the children's ward to visit.  You knew from the way the family was positioned around the bed and the crying, that she was gone.  You stayed out in the hallway and cried silently to yourself.

When they all filed out, they didn't even have to ask before you said "Y'all can stay with me" you knew it would be a tough road the next few months for them but you'd be there.  Your boxes took a back seat, you informing your buyers and refunding their money.  You needed to keep working on them to keep your mind busy.  The day that your hands wouldn't stop shaking you knew this cancer would kill you.

You were handling your tools when out of nowhere your hands began to shake.  Vince was in the other room and heard you throw your tools to the floor and curse. He just held your hands until they stopped shaking. You would live in your house for a few months, but you were deteriorating quickly.  The only person you allowed to see you was Kathy.

You were new bed bound, not able to do anything for yourself.  Kathy was right there, doing everything for you.  You felt you weren't long for this world, you asked her to call your lawyer.  You'd had to use him multiple times when people tried to sue you for not giving them the boxes when they refused to pay.  You won all those cases and kept him on.  "Hello Miss Y/N" he said as he looked at your skeleton frame.

"Hey Mr. Gibbs" you tried to smile, but even that hurt. "Have a seat."

"You called me here to draft your last will and testament?" he asked.

"Yeah" you sighed "What I want at my funeral..."

"Okay" he said and took out a note pad and pen "What would you like to have done?"

"Have them dress me up in a clown costume, with full make up and a big red nose that honks like a goose" he looked up at you in confusion. 

"E-excuse me?"

"You heard me" you mocked "Clown costume and make-up" you had to take a break to catch your breath.

"Right" he let you take as much time as you want "your casket?"

"Pumpkin Orange" you coughed "and Halloween decorations..."

He knew at this point that it was pointless to argue with you and wrote down what you wanted.  "No black..." you wheezed.

"What?" he looked up.

"Nobody wears black" you said "anyone wearing black at my funeral will be sent home to change, or wear the ugliest clothes Kathy can find..."

"And for the luncheon afterward?"

"Roast squid and duck.  Both with their eyes still on...plus some normal food.  I doubt that anyone would touch something that had it's eyes looking at them...."

"Who do you want to give the eulogy?"

"Kathy" you said, needing a break again "Tell people to bring a drink to open before she gives the eulogy..."

"Who do you want me to call first at the time of your death?"

"Vince Neil" you said with no question.  "Then Nikki Sixx, Mick Mars and Tommy Lee..."

"That concludes your funeral arrangements...how about your assets?"

"They all go to Kathy" you said "She's taken care of me like a baby, now it's my turn to take care of her..."

"I see, and your remains?"

"Cremation" you took a deep, ragged breath "turn my ashes into rings for my four best friends..."

With the business concluded, he bid you adieu and finalized the paperwork.  You turned your head to the side and you saw a face most welcome "Hey Sky"

"Hi Miss Y/N!" she was excited to see you after so long.  She was just as you remembered her when she was healthy.

"You here to take me to Heaven?" you said, the pain easing up.

"Yep!" she was kicking her legs in the seat, them not being able to touch the floor "So you wouldn't be scared when you went!"

"I see" you smiled at her "Thank you, you'll be wonderful guide" you closed your eyes and the last bit of life escaped your body.  Your spirit sat up, Skylar had extended her hand and you took it asking "What's Heaven like?"

"A beautiful dream" the little girl answered "You'll love it!" you and Skylar walked hand in had towards the light.

[whatarubberchicken]

Just for Cakes

Happy Birthday, @bowser14456! Sorry I’m late in the day! Hope you have a good one!

 Just for Cakes

Marinette skipped down to the bakery in high spirits. She’d finally gotten all her work done and was finally ready to have some quality time with one of her best friends. After all, Hawkmoth was still pouting over the fact that yet another villain had simply handed over their akumatized item after a short battle with Paris’s heroes, and had barely even tried to get their Miraculouses. She was trying not to be smug about it, but secretly, she was thrilled. The people of Paris seemed to be fully behind her and Chat Noir, which meant a lot less work.

And hopefully, a quiet patrol tonight, complete with snacks.

“Papa,” she sang lightly, “do we have any macarons left over from to—WOW, WHAT IS THAT??” She squealed, staring at the bright red cake in amazement. It wasn’t huge, like some of her father’s creations were, but it WAS practically covered in strawberries and chocolate (two of her favorites) and there was something written on the top….

Tom Dupain quickly put his body between her and the mouth-watering confection, blocking her view.

“Nope! Sorry, honey! No viewing the secret order!”

“Secret order?!” Marinette repeated gleefully. “Is that for ME??”

Oh, who could’ve ordered her a secret cake? Could it be Adrien? Maybe he was planning to take her out for a romantic night and asking her to be his girlfriend!! THAT WOULD BE A DREAM COME TRUE!!!

“No, sweetie, it’s not for you,” Tom said gently.

Marinette pouted as her romantic daydream crumbled before her eyes. “Then why can’t I see it?” she whined, trying to look around her father.

“Because,” her father said, moving with her to continue to block her line-of-sight, “one of the—reasons he—trusted us—with this—was that we—” he finally put his hand on her hand to push her away and hold her there, “—promised that no one would know where it came from. Or who bought it.”

“Why would anyone need that much secrecy around a cake?” she asked, frustrated.

“He’s… kind of a celebrity,” Tom said vaguely, rubbing the back of his neck. “Now, I’ve told you too much already—go play somewhere else!”

“But, technically, I work here too!” she pointed out. “You could just say, as an employee, I needed to know!”

“Nope. He specifically told me not to tell you, since he knows your best friend is a blogger who loves to get scoops on celebrities.” She opened her mouth to defend her friend, but her father stared her down. “And ‘as an employee,’ I expect you to listen to your boss.” Tom said, crossing his arms.

Marinette scowled, knowing that he could be very stubborn at times like this. Then she smirked.

“Ok, fine. I’ll listen to the boss,” she said sweetly, then called upstairs, “MAMAN?? CAN I LOOK AT THE PRETTY STRAWBERRY CAKE, PLEASE?!”

“NO, DEAR! LISTEN TO YOUR FATHER!!” Sabine called back.

“Darn it. I thought that would work,” Marinette grumbled. Her father smirked at her knowingly and made a little ‘shooing’ motion with his hands.

“Fine, but I’m taking some extra croissants,” she said, grabbing a bunch of treats for her and Chat Noir.

“Try not to make yourself sick!” he called after her, carefully guarding his precious cake until she was back upstairs.

Marinette tried not to grumble all the way upstairs. Really, just the fact that she couldn’t know was what was burning her up inside. Now that she knew she couldn’t know, she wanted to know. Needed to know. Who had commissioned a special cake and was enough of a celebrity to want to keep it all hush hush? Why would they need to keep it hush hush??

It was a little too small to be a wedding cake, maybe an engagement?

Was it some millionaire, celebrating his mistresses’ birthday?? (Some rumors were going around that Gabriel Agreste had a secret girlfriend…)

Was some actor going to propose to his long-time girlfriend?? (Or maybe Jagged Stone was going to propose to Penny! Or Clara Nightingale??)

Or was it a mafia boss, celebrating the defeat of an enemy?? (Wow, her mind went dark sometimes….)

“C’mon, Tikki. I need to get out of here before my brain explodes from ‘what if’ questions,” Marinette said. “Spots on!” Tikki looked confused at her statement but giggled as she flew into the earrings.

Ladybug grabbed her blanket and the bag of goodies and was out in the night air before her musings could catch up to her. Ahh, flying over Paris was its own form of therapy.

She landed at their favorite rooftop and spread out the blanket. They’d originally met at the Eiffel Tower each night, but the tourists saw them, figured out it was a routine, and had continually pestered them for pictures. It had become too much of a hassle, and they’d agreed on this other, non-descript building with a great view of the Tower, especially when it was lit up against the night sky. So far, nobody had found them. Or they were keeping their distance. Either way, she was grateful she and Chat could have this time together to get to know each other and work on their teamwork without worrying about timers or akumas with agendas.

And if they happened to race each other around Paris with an extra macaron as the prize for the winner, well, it was still considered patrol, right? She hummed to herself as she set out the snacks she’d gathered, trying to keep her mind off… other things….

OH, WHO WAS SHE KIDDING???

Okay, Ladybug. Whose cake was it??

Hawkmoth? Prematurely celebrating their defeat? –Ha. She’d shove his face in it!

XY? Trying to shmooze some unsuspecting musician to do his work for him? –No, no way. He wouldn’t be that thoughtful.

Mayor Bourgeois? Maybe as a gift for Chloé? –Actually, that one kind of made sense. And he didn’t want anyone to know about it, especially Marinette, because he knew how much Chloé hated her and that his precious princess would probably refuse any cake that came from Marinette’s parents’ bakery.

Ladybug nodded. Case closed. The cake was yet another attempt for the mayor to buy his daughter’s affection. That had to be it. And it wasn’t even Chloé’s birthday or anything!

She hoped the brat choked on it. –NO! NO, SHE DIDN’T!! UGH, LADYBUG! WHAT A THOUGHT!! And besides, that’d be a total waste of perfectly-delicious-looking strawberries and chocolate that she knew would melt on the tip of her tongue….

Ok, she needed to stop drooling. Where was that cat??

She was just a little jealous, she finally admitted to herself, stretching out on the blanket. She knew (even with her cute little daydream about Adrien blushing and asking her to go out with him and hand-feeding each other strawberries under the Paris sky) that the cake wasn’t for her. It was nowhere near her birthday, no holidays were coming up, and she didn’t really have anyone who would buy her a cake on impulse (even in her dizziest daydreams, Adrien was far too timid to actually ask her out with a cake! Unless, of course, he made it himself… and now she was imagining him in an apron—SO CUTE!!)

She was still giggling to herself when she heard the tell-tale pitter-patter of Chat Noir’s boots.

“About time,” she grinned as soon as he leapt into view.  

“Sorry, my lady,” Chat laughed. “I had to pick up an order.”

Ladybug frowned at the non-descript brown box in his hands. “Cha~at, you were supposed to get the drinks!”

“I got ‘em! I got ‘em!” he said quickly, producing two bottles of soda from the belt around his waist. Ladybug grabbed them before he could drop the box he was trying to balance on one hand.

“So, what’s in the box?” she asked, curiosity getting the best of her as he carefully set it down on the blanket. She narrowed her eyes when he flushed.

He’d better not be trying anything romantic again.

“I—umm, had a thought…,” he said, looking nervous. “I know we don’t know each others’ birthdays or anything… and I know we can’t! But you’re a really important person in my life, and it just kinda felt wrong to never have a celebration, soo….”

And just like that, Ladybug’s scowl was wiped away, even before he opened the box.

Oh, my sweet kitty….

She gasped when she saw it. It was her cake! Well, not hers hers—but apparently hers hers—because Chat had just lit a candle on the top of it—and he was smiling so timidly—and the top spelled out “HAPPY BIRTHDAY LADYBUG” in beautiful white and crème-colored frosting—and why hadn’t she noticed before that the strawberries and little chocolate pieces were perfectly positioned to look like ladybug spots all over—

“Chat!” she whispered, choked up.

“Make a wish, my lady,” he said, his grin widening when he saw how much she liked his gift.

She quickly wiped away some happy tears. “Aren’t you supposed to sing first?” she teased.

“Oh, shoot! That’s right! That’s now, isn’t it… umm, okay. I’m sorry in advance….” He cleared his throat and began singing the most off-key rendition of “Happy Birthday” she’d ever heard. When it finally ended, he looked away, flushing deep. “And that’s why my dad made me take piano for my music lessons, not voice,” he admitted. “It wasn’t too bad, was it?”

Just then, they heard voices from down below.

“Oh my God, what was that?”

“Sounded like an alley cat.”

Chat Noir flushed even deeper red. Ladybug, however, gave him a grin and a quick kiss on the cheek.

“It was perfect, Chat. Thank you,” she said, quickly blowing out the candle so no more wax could drip onto her precious cake. “You really know how to make a girl feel special.” Chat just gave her a dazed, dopey smile in return, rubbing the cheek where she’d kissed him.

“But just so you know,” she continued, selecting a strawberry for herself and taking a big bite. “It’s nowhere near my birthday, you goof.”

He gave her a good-natured pout. “And how was I supposed to know that?”

“You could’ve just used the day we met.”

“Nope. That one’s our anniversary,” Chat said, shaking his head. “No way was I going to combine dates if I could help it. And just think, you get more presents this way!”

That got her attention. “I get presents?”

He took a small box out of his pocket and shook it at her tauntingly. “Only after we finish the cake.”

Ladybug pouted. “And I suppose you’re gonna want me to plan out a fake birthday party for you too?”

“We~ell, you don’t have to, but if you want to….” He trailed off, looking hopeful. She laughed again, already planning. No way she could resist those puppy dog eyes. And she already knew of several presents he would love.

“So, are you gonna help me eat this thing or what?”

Chat Noir quickly sprang into action, producing a knife and some napkins (no plates, but he looked so discouraged until she told him it was fine).

“I’ve always wanted to try this type of cake,” he babbled as he cut it. “My mom had it once in America and said it was really good, but—OMG, YOUR CAKE IS BLEEDING.”

Ladybug looked. Sure enough, the inside of the cake was a deep red in color. Against the brightness of the frosting on top, it really did look like he’d cut into some animal. She covered her mouth to hide her laughter, having had a similar reaction when she was younger.

“Is that red velvet cake?” she asked.

He gaped at her. “Yes! I mean, they said it was red, but I didn’t expect it to be red-red! I thought it would be—oh wow, I feel like I killed something.” He put the knife down, looking overwhelmed at the sight of her cake.

She laughed as she took the knife from him and cut herself a small piece. “Don’t worry, kitty, it’s good. Here, try a piece,” she said, holding it out for him to take a bite.

He looked at the cake in her hand dubiously. “My lady, you know I trust you, and you hand-feeding me is one of my fantasies come true, but that… shouldn’t we say a prayer over it or something?”

“Eat,” she insisted, barely able to breathe through all the laughter she was holding back. He still looked hesitant, but he finally took a bite. Instantly, all his doubts melted away.

“Ooo, that is good,” he said, looking down at the mutilated cake. “Thank you for your sacrifice, oh delicious one.”

“Mmm, and cream cheese frosting,” Ladybug said, currently in heaven as she finished off her piece. “You’re setting the bar pretty high for these fake birthdays, Chat Noir.”

“I’m sure you’ll rise to the challenge, my lady,” Chat grinned back, finally relaxing.

“Challenge accepted.”

They sat there for a few minutes, enjoying themselves, when Chat finally broke the silence.

“So what did you wish for, my lady?” he asked.

“Can’t tell you,” she said with a wink. “But maybe you’ll find out next year.”

Or maybe sooner, she thought, watching him gaze out over their city. Maybe.

--End