#but I am really fond of it so I thought I'd give it another shot

[alicepao13]

Hudson and Rex S04E11 - Capital Punishment - Part C

I will finish this. One way or another. I promise.

It took this smooth operator five seconds of standing like an idiot to tell Trina that she looks great.

Rex is watching carefully.

He does.

"But I want him with Sarah."

What did she do to that poor bowtie?

"Where would I be hiding weapons, moron?"

Only internally.

The bowtie has magically fixed itself. Not that I'm paying close attention or anything.

I'm sorry but what use are internet cafes in 2022 when most actual cafes have a decent internet connection?

I'm sure everyone opens doors that way. If he wanted to not get fingerprints on it, he could have used his elbow.

"[...] showed Canadians that extremism isn't just something our southern neighbors have to contend with." Yes, only the US has terrorism. What? Even my country has had a quite deadly terrorist organization.

Well, they usually give awards to the least deserving people. We are the exception, of course.

Tell him, Joe!

"If no one's going to do anything about this, I'll do it myself."

Well, there's no plan for "my dog took off with a bomb in his mouth."

Okay, first of all, this is the funniest way to say "I'll blow up Rex". Second, I think we should be more concerned about the fact that Rex might be anywhere, including (as we saw later) running next to dozens of people. Generally, it's not a great situation, even though Rex ultimately did save the day.

Uh-oh, Charlie has an idea.

"Rex does this all the time, how difficult can it be?"

I think I actually made a Geralt joke (from the Witcher, I mean he'd have been killed from that height) somewhere on this blog the first time.

Okay, Hamilton, how much did you guys pay for that slow-mo? This is embarrassing. And Rex looks like he's lost.

Damn, he has a strong head.

Wow, dude hates us.

That's a nice shot. I'm not particularly fond of the slow-mo on Charlie's expression in the next shot because he has to also hold his fist up and it kind looks weird in my opinion but this one's a nice shot.

This. I mean, I did what to see his expression, I just don't find the pose particularly great.

This I love, though. The music stopping, the sound coming like he's underwater, the sound of his breaths... And then as he punches Houle, there's nothing but the sound of his rage and his punches until he hears Rex barking.

For the record, I believe you should be allowed to punch the guy who you think killed your dog, cop or no cop. John Wick that motherfucker.

"Hey, hey, hey, I'm here, man, I'm okay."

He was so worried.

"You did fuck him up a bit, though, right?"

I was very normal about this all the 1564 times I watched it between January 21, 2022 and Mar 23, 2022. The first 1200 times were all on the first week because we were snowed in. I'm not crazy.

"Let me give you a proper lick-up, it lowers the stress level. You silly goose, you really thought I can die?"

Stop it! I'm serious, I don't want to have to open a new post for the remaining 3 minutes!

Jesse: "Charlie is getting an extended vacation?" Sarah: "Jesse, I wouldn't really call it a vacation." Jesse, let the man fuck.

That Iris Cross report must be important. I'm kidding, I know that Jesse is probably trying to find a way to not mention the countless moments of negligence in that report.

Don't read that, there's probably tons of inaccuracies in there.

You can mention the word teamwork a million times, it still seems like nothing.

Yes, yes, we're all Charah shippers. Anyway, I'm into multi-shipping lol. But I mostly wanted to screenshot this to showcase that Rex seems kinda left out, which is not how the moments with Charlie, Sarah and Rex are shot. The latter ones always seem to include Rex, showcasing that they're family. So, yeah, for more reasons than one, I am glad to have this.

Rex: "Oh, fine, I'll allow it. Just because we're leaving tomorrow."

I definitely liked Trina, I'd love for her to come back to the show, obviously not as a romantic interest for Charlie anymore.

I'm a basic bitch, so Charlie became 50% hotter when he punched Houle. I'm unapologetic about it, and I 100% believe that dogs are worth killing for. Also, as an off-duty cop, Charlie did not act as a cop but as a person who loved Rex. If he was on duty, he'd have taken out his gun and shot him, and I would have cheered. Okay, maybe not cheered because there are real consequences from shooting a rat bastard terrorist person but I wouldn't have cared about Houle. This reaction humanizes Charlie, and I'd like for him to lose it a bit every season lol. He doesn't have to beat up people every time, we'll find other outlets.

Furthermore, I think that reaction, should it have ever been reported back to the SJPD, would have carried zero blowback. Subduing a terrorist after his bomb has blown up, and using excessive force off-duty, while saving dozens of lives? They'd have given him another medal. But the most likely scenario is that it would have prompted Joe to keep a closer eye on Charlie, because while warranted, Charlie as a more put-together cop in another time would have tried to restrain himself. My main issue with this is it wouldn't have been reported back to Joe so he wouldn't have had that information, otherwise I'd have liked it to be referenced in the season finale.

Finally, I consider part of S4 as Charlie's slut era, and I think the last time I intimated that, someone blocked me lol. At the time, it might have sounded like I was judging Charlie. But it's not really a bad thing. He's an adult, Trina is an adult, they both know that they'll only have that night and they're okay with it. Sarah is with another guy (I'm assuming they're having sex), was either of them meant to be celibate until they figured their shit out? Plus, I think it re-enforced how much in love with Sarah he was because in the next episode he got back and tried to kiss her.

[medusanova]

Hello, I am on a mission here, as you know. I'd like to know about Rivulets of Destruction and Moment of Truth, pleaseeeee

Hehe well I couldn't live with myself if I were the one standing in the way of your mission — your wishes are my command (;

About Rivulets of Destruction:

What is this?! A non-Rivusa fic?! *gasp* So this one is Greysha, actually, and it started as a really dark and terrible thought that I had to write down and turn into a full-blown one-shot. I'm only about halfway into it at the moment and, if I had an actual heart, I think I would've cried while writing it - that is the level of angst I'm diving into here. I feel like the title is a pretty good indicator of that, though. It was hard finding a small blurb that wouldn't give too much away but I think this one will do nicely:

She brushed a strand of onyx hair from his temple. "You'll need to be careful tomorrow." "I'm always careful." Aisha huffed. "Alright, then you need to be more careful. I think they're planning to take down as many Blood Witches as possible." She caught his eyes. "Especially anyone with enough skill and power to become the next leader." "Eliminate every head of the hydra." "Precisely. And that might include you." She played with his fingers nervously. "We've all got clearance to transform if needed. And the Specialists are fighting to kill." "I understand. I don't intend to fight, Aisha. I'm keeping to the outskirts until your signal." Grey's expression hardened. "You need to be careful as well. He's a lunatic and he knows he's losing. A desperate man is a dangerous man." "I'm always careful," she echoed his words. "I mean it, Aisha -- no risks, no chances." She studied him, watched as he shaped his concern into the anger he presented to the world. Like just the potential of what might happen consumed him with wrath. It petrified her, seeing that expression. Wondering how he might react if she died.

About Moment of Truth:

Well, that didn't last too long - back to Rivusa! This one will be about a darker theme (just torture, no biggie..), but as I've finished about a third of it, it has, quite ironically, taken on a lighter, snarkier tone than I originally intended. And I think I'm really liking it! My original train of thought: Musa's mind fairy abilities would probably make her a fantastic torturer/interrogator, no?

"Do you know why Sky stopped meeting you?" "I do." He clenches his jaw to prevent himself from saying more but she tugs at his mind anyway, urging his tongue to form words even as he holds them back. It's possible for him to omit information to avoid outright lying to her, but she doesn't make it easy. "Huh. And does—” Musa punctuates her question by leaning forward and poking her soft finger, the finger that used to stroke his cheek with fondness, hard into the bruise under Riven's cheekbone. “—that hurt?" "Uh, yes, Muse. It really does." He flinches, then squirms as she applies another jot of pressure, leaning close enough for him to douse his lungs with her floral scent, close enough for him to lean forward and kiss her again, before backing away. "Fuck this. Musa, you know I'm not Rosalind's man." "Then why did you give Sky a dupe instead of the Blood Witch book?" She crosses her arms. Struggling for patience at her questions and composure at her presence, he bit out, "I told you it was only a matter of time before Dane found me out. He must've switched them before I left to meet Sky." "Hm. Wrong answer, I'm afraid." Despite her apologetic words, there's a savage glee in the violet glow of her eyes. "I'm on your bloody side, you mad fairy! Go ask—Aaaahhghh! Fuck!" Within some chamber of his consciousness, Riven knows that it only feels like there are shards of glass being embedded into his bound forearms, but the piercing depth and sharp accuracy of the agony is... extremely convincing. He swears he can even hear the glass hit his bone. He's been a witness to more methods of cruel and unusual punishment than the average soldier, being Rosalind's puppet all those years. With an unhinged enthusiasm mental "exercises" and a perverse desire to "prepare" Riven for his role by Andreas' side, his mind is fully equipped to fortify itself against a sensory cortex hallucinatory attack. He'd also been on both sides of torture, so he understood the mechanics and intent. But this— her interrogation was unfettered by the limits of things like blood or anatomical endurance. And it's more creative and gruesome than Riven had imagined him, or Rosalind for that matter, could ever be.

[dragon-snoots-a-boopin]

A Lengthy Rant About A Place I Work

I need to rant and yes, I know this is slightly risky to do but I no longer care. I want to rant about the place I currently work at. Now, NO, I will not be naming the place at this time nor will I be naming any of the people by their actual names that this is about and you know exactly why.

I've been at this place for probably half a year or so now. When I started, things were decently well with some small exceptions. The position is not particularly difficult. The small exception in the beginning is that there was a lack of actual training. Yeah, I was just kind of thrown into the position with very little training and that is not something I am very fond of.

Now, the major issues I have had with this place is related to hours. When I started, I was getting 20 hours a week working five four hour shifts a week. Now, something that is important is that the location of my work place is very near a college campus so a lot of our traffic is college students. Now, over time I went from 5 days to 4 days and then to 3 days to 2 days. At one point they gave me an entire week off that I didn't ask for and that really pissed me off.

So, I spoke to the at that time manager, who for the sake of this will just be identified by the letter J, and they basically told me that could get more hours by going to overnights. I was hesitant at first but I realized that I already stay up for long periods during the night, sometimes all night and so I decided I'd give it a shot with the promise of more hours.

In short, that promise was a complete and utter lie. When I switched to overnight I was getting a meek 8 hours a week, working two four hour shifts. This isn't what I asked for at all and this isn't what I was promised. Some time passes and manager J eventually leaves and manager from another one of our locations takes the place of J and this manager I am going to refer to as K.

At the start of K's run, I thought they were not half bad because they got a shitty employee to finally quit. But, any respect for K I had quickly went away because I eventually told K that this 8 hours a week isn't cutting it as I can work all but two days a week and K basically did what J did and gave me their word that I'd get more hours. Now, for two weeks, I got 18 hours each of those weeks and here I was thinking that things were actually getting better. But, after those two weeks, my schedule went from three six hour shifts a week to an abysmal one six hour shift a week. Pretty upset, I sent a message asking K why my schedule is so pathetic and her response was that because sales have been so poor, they can't have an overnight host most days of the week. Of course, my coworkers had asked me where I was and even said that they could really use me more days of the week. Also, I don't want to lose this job but like, if you can't afford to schedule me then why do I still work there?>>

Anyway, That one six hour shift thing lasted two weeks before my schedule is as it is now, where I got two weeks of not being scheduled at all and now I am finally at my wits end with this place. I decided to send a message to K asking them what the fuck (I didn't word it this way btw) happened to my schedule and, I wish I was kidding here, her response was that she heard that I didn't want to work one day a week and this response literally broke my brain. I have been constantly asking them for MORE hours yet their reaction to this is to just not schedule me at all??? What the fuck kind of manager thinks like this???

I sent K and message that is harsh but also not as harsh as I'd like it to be because K fucking deserves it at all point. The managers have constantly promised me more hours and have always lied to me about and I am so damn tired to being lied to, to the point that I don't even trust K or any of management at this point because of unfulfilled promises. Going to the job is an hour round trip for me and it's to the point that it isn't worth my time or gas to even go there. K is a completely incompetent manager and I know that she want also wants to step down as manager so I believe she is doing the bare minimum to appeal to her manager at that's it. I don't believe that K cares about any of us regular employees and I believe that more because she has not even bothered to reply to my sort of harsh but truthful message. The other thing that really bugs me with all this hours stuff is that me and other employees have been getting them cut and yet they can afford to keep hiring new people! Yes! There have been two to three new people on overnights and yes, when they supposedly can't afford to schedule the people they already have hired but they can afford to hire new people. Anyway, yes, I am actively looking for another job but I got to make something of this one before I quit it when I get another one.

[the-wolf-within-blog]

These Aching Bones || Remus & OPEN || March, 1980.

Remus had no idea what hurt more, to be still with nothing to focus on but the aching of his body, or to move and strain his sore muscles, bones and joints. As he limped through the surprisingly empty streets of Diagon Alley, he was thankful that no one was around that early in the morning, or his beaten up aspect, filled with dirt that covered bruises that covered fresh cuts, would’ve certainly risen questions.

Breathing felt like an agony. He had to stop every few minutes to catch his breath, head spinning from the pain. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had such a rough full moon. Then again, it had been a long time since he’d last spent one alone, his friends having all been busy that particular night. James was still recovering from the age-reversal attack, Sirius was probably dealing Merlin knew how with his own inner conflicts, and Peter was stuck at work. The absence of his friends had made the wolf anxious and aggressive, more violent than usual. What was worst, he’d ended up getting way too close to civilization. Thank God he hadn’t come across anyone.

He needed to get some medicine for his sore body. It was the only reason to why he’d ventured downtown before even heading home to make himself look decent. The pain was too much.

He stopped for the fifth time, aching back resting against a wall, as he fumbled his pockets for the pack of cigarettes. His hands were shaking badly, and it took him longer than usual to take out one of the thin little bastards. Fuck, even his fingers, bloody and with broken nails, hurt, knuckles stiff and covered in cuts. He was screwed. A screwed monster, too pathetic and too weak to really scare anybody. He was so tired. He felt like his soul was giving away under the weight of its own existence. Like he was going to dissolve into dust and ashes any minute now.

Struggling with the tremors of his joints, Remus tried to hold the cigarette between his lips to light it, but before he could put it in his mouth, his hands jerked violently out of pure anxiety and the fag fell to the ground.

“Bloody hell” the man cursed under his breath in a hoarse, dry voice. For a moment, he considered leaving it there, the mere thought of bending over to pick it up causing him to wince. But his chest ached for the relief of a smoke, that addictive sensation that he was slowly killing himself without knowing, and to be honest, he didn’t have a lot of money. It was better not to waste a single one of those cigarettes. Trying not to groan too loudly as pain shot through his body, he kneeled, hand stretched towards the fag, when a pair of feet came into view right in front of him.

Surprised that someone else would be there at such early hour, the man raised his head, squinting when the morning light hit him square in the face.

“Hello?”

[what-the-stories-have-foretold]

Heyyy I’m soo happy to see that u write for detective Conan I want to request a one shot of rei furuya being a softie with his fem!s/o 🥺🥺

Of course sweetheart, here you go 💕 I had a lot of fun writing this. The thought of being a little menace to Furuya (as well as Nanami, if we're already on the topic) is just so wonderful to me.

Sleeping in

My Navigation is here.

Warnings: wanting to die happily in someone's arms? Is that a warning?

Wordcount: 528

"You really want to stay in bed?" he asked you, a hidden smile on his lips. You nodded, blanket held up over your nose, eyes giving away the grin underneath. He rolled his eyes lovingly before coming back to lay next to you, letting you crawl up to rest on top of him as you squealed in delight, then cuddling you close. He hummed, resting his chin over your head: "'m not used to that."

"What? Sleeping in?" you asked. You could feel him nod. "See, even more of a reason to stay at home and cuddle me for the entire day."

"The entire day?" he laughed, making no move to decline your request. "You really are lazy, beautiful." You stretched your neck to look up at him, big smile plastered on your lips:

"You think I'm beautiful?"

Furuya huffed a laugh before leaning down to kiss you on your forehead:

"I do."

"I think you are very beautiful too, you know," you said, moving back to your original position, cheek pressed against his chest.

Another kiss that made your heart bloom.

"Thank you, Sweetheart."

For a few minutes you basked in each others presence, cuddled close, safe and warm. Then, your stomach began to growl.

"I don't think sleeping in will work much longer," Furuya laughed, but stopped the moment he saw your pleading eyes.

"Rei...can you make pancakes? You make them so well, just how I like them...," you pouted. He sighed, feigning annoyance.

"Anything my love wants," he whispered, pressing a last, lingering kiss to your forehead before standing up to go to the kitchen.

"-wait, Rei, wanna come to!" Arms outstreched towards him to let him pick you up.

"You know, we should eat breakfast cuddled up on the couch and oh! We could make a pillowfort," you gasped, eyes wide.

"Absolutely not," Furuya laughed, making pancakes next to where he had placed you on the kitchen counter. You pouted:

"Pretty please, Rei? Pretty, pretty please?"

"Sweetheart," he sighed.

"Please, Rei."

For a moment he closed his eyes, quite possibly regretting his life choices, before nodding. He smiled as he heard you squeal and watched you dart off to prepare the fort.

"I can do it, (Y/N)," he called after you, but you were already gone.

Here you were yet again, considering dying happily in his arms.

"Please don't."

You looked up, feigned hurt on you features.

"What do you mean?"

"I'd prefer to cuddle an alive version of you."

"But you're so soft, how could I not want to d-"

"How am I supposed to marry you then, huh?"

You shot up, eyes wide. Then a teasing smile slowly appeared on your face. Teasing, but bright.

"You want to marry me?"

You were surprised to not receive an eyeroll for that. Furuya's eyes only softened, raising a hand to let it rest on your cheek. You tilted your face to nuzzle against it, holding his gaze, smile now fond on him. Slowly, he leaned forward, bringing your face closer by the cheek.

"Of course I do," he whispered against your lips, breath carressing your skin, before he finally brought you in for a kiss.

[my-mt-heart]

I know I may be in the minority but I actually cherished and loved the Caryl 10x16 hug. I wasn't expecting Daryl and Carol to come running at one another. They both have just been through and seen so much and come through so much, that hug signified that peace and relief that comes after the storm is over. Here are some things that are unique to this hug that make me crinkle up with emotion every single time I see it:

1. Daryl nuzzles Carol. After he pulls her in but before the close-up shot off his face, he is seen resting his head against the side of Carol's. It is an incredible display of softness from him. And he does it with no one else.

2. Carol folds right into him. Seriously she fits like a glove. Even though in my opinion Carol is the most complex and strongest woman on that show (and their are so many displays of strength among TWD women) the part that sucker punches me about Carol is her vulnerability that makes her look so small and in need of someone to collapse into from time to time. And to me, in this scene, she does that. Just a little bit. And only Daryl can do that for her, give her that emotional release she needs.

3. That hug to me was communicating Daryl's relief that they won the fight against the Whisperers. I know Lydia's scene with Carol is top notch in my eyes. But nothing wraps up things like a Caryl hug. All is right with the world when they come together in the way only they can.

4. Carol does not seem to be expecting a hug from Daryl. She looks a little taken aback/caught off guard and so relieved that he hugged her and that little whimper she gives she such a cherry. She wants to cry but does her damndest to hold it in. I love her so much!

5. Friends do not hug one another that long. Family doesn't either.

6. They talk afterward, Daryl bringing up New Mexico again. The fact that it is him saying it and not Carol signifies that Daryl has already forgiven Carol and that part of him that is speaking from the happy hormones his body is putting out after that hug (that is a thing, look it up), shows that he really is serious about leaving the world they know behind and seeing what's left with his favorite person by his side. This is different because in season 5, he was trying to get Carol to say with him and the group. This is so indicative of a man wanting to take what affectionately belongs to him and building life with them on their own terms.

7. Maybe someday. Carol's response that does not fail to disappoint Daryl a bit. She is not looking at him really in this scene. I think the reason is because she doesn't really believe that is meant for her. It would be too close to what she truly wants and doesn't think that will happen for her. She might even think that Daryl is just settling. Once he finds someone "good" or "better" by Carol's definition, he will leave her. She is such a tragic character in some respects but she is so much more than what she thinks of herself.

8. Carol comes to Daryl. In 5x01 Carol also is the first to appear, coming toward them. And both times Daryl initiates the hug, showing that his affection and fondness for Carol's actual existence as well as her coming back has never wavered.

9. Their is a maturity to the 10x16 hug. This does not take away from the masterpiece that is 5x01. But without words, I would say that the Terminus reunion hug gives me a "Oh, my God, you're okay, you're okay, you're okay. I thought I'd never see you again. Oh my God, thank God, thank God..." but in 10x16 their is so much more between them, I pick up "Come here. I've got you. Another battle under our belts, you and me, huh? I know you're tired. I am, too. We both are. It's okay. We're okay. And I know you're hurtin'. I wanna make it better for you." Look at Daryl's body language in both hugs. One hug is like a boy who saw his long lost friend again. The latter hug is a man who knows how to be gentle with the woman he cares for most and wants to be there for her, which carry some serious romantic undertones because him saying and express that is showing a level of commitment to her you actually need to be prospectively romantic in order to offer in the first place!

But anyways I just wanted to leave that here because you are best one for it and I know all of the actors expressions and body movements tell a story. It all adds up to something. For Caryl? It's the endgame.

That was pretty convincing :')

[essayofthoughts]

Ohohoho! en guarde!

7, 42, 51, 55 (especially for words/expressions!), 68, 75?

7. Post a snippet from a wip.

You asked for Tiefling AU and/or Cass focussed when I PM'd you so:

"It is me," he promises her. "I- I don't know when exactly I changed, but I remember here, I remember everything. I remember you helping me escape-"

"Do you remember leaving me?" He can't blame Cass for how accusatory her tone is. In her shoes he thinks he'd be the exact same way.

"I saw you shot down," he says. "I saw-" He swallows. "Three arrows, one right through your chest, I saw you fall and cough blood and I thought... I thought there was no way you'd survive, even if I managed to carry you to safety. I thought you were dead."

The laugh Cassandra gives is bitter and thin. "Yes," she says. "I can believe that."

"I'm sorry," he says, because he is. "I'm sorry. If I'd known- I didn't know. I didn't even know that this-" he gestures at himself "-wasn't Ripley's doing - I wasn't there for two years, and when I came back to myself all I could think was yet another thing they've taken from me - that they wouldn't even leave me my humanity."

He pauses, looks at the ashy tint of his fingers, the too-long, too-sharp fingernails. He feels his tail wanting to lash side-to-side behind him, anxiety desperate to be let out, and refuses to allow it.

"Sometimes," he admits, "I- I'm sure I'm Percival. I'm sure of that. Even if I don't look it, I am myself at the very least. I remember chasing you around my lab, I remember Whitney nagging me downstairs, I remember Julius teasing me. But sometimes..." He draws a deep breath because he doesn't want to admit this but he needs Cass to understand, needs her to grasp it if they're to mend this rift between them, "Sometimes I don't feel like myself anymore."

There's a stretch of silence. He swallows; when he looks up, Cass is watching him, her mouth a little open before she swallows too.

"I don't feel like I'm me all the time either," Cass admits. "Not after- not after everything. After they-" and it's half-spat and half-fond and he can't really blame her, can he? "-tried make me a Briarwood and- and there was a part of me that wanted it. Wanted a family that wouldn't leave me behind."

That hurts but he can't blame her for that either. How else would it have felt to be bleeding out and gasping for breath, watching your one remaining family member flee across the snow?

"It's like," she says, pausing and stuttering, free hand flexing where it's not tightly grasping a mug of tea. "It's like they reached inside my head and mixed me all up so they could put the pieces back how they liked. I don't feel like Cassandra. I don't feel like your sister. I feel like... like a thing they made."

"You're not," he says, because that much he's sure of. That much he's had to learn to survive becoming what he now is. "You're not, Cass. They've shaped you but... you're not theirs. You're you. You're whoever you decide to make now."

You get both.

42. What’s your favorite title that you’ve come up with?

Uh...

So probably the collective titles for all of the Ghost Cass AU, because I've got the titles planned for all eight parts and there's an Easter Egg hidden in how they fit together.

But I'm not gonna tell you what the Easter Egg is yet.

51. Does what you like to write differ from what you like to read?

Not hugely these days? There's a chunk of things I wrote mostly because I wasn't finding them in fandom, because a lot of the seemingly well-regarded fics that touched on it just... did not feel true to my experiences and the ones that did were really short or were unfinished and there's only so many times you can reread things, you know?

I do sometimes like going for a crackfic, which I can't write for shit, but I am incredibly picky about the crackfics I like because I like the crack balanced with accurate characterisation. But otherwise... yeah I do enjoy reading fics with worldbuilding, canon-compliant but dense stories, which dig into trauma, which are compelling, self-contained AUs - or some combination of the above.

55. Have you noticed any patterns in your fics?  Words/expressions that appear a lot, themes, common settings, etc?

There's a lot of phrases I see when I read over chapters before upload where I'm like "That's a me-ism" "That's just something embedded in my head that doesn't fit this character" "Aich, that sentence construction only makes sense to you". I can't recall any off the top of my head, but rest assured I notice them during the pre-upload read-over and I try to edit them out when they get too much.

As for themes - trauma and codependency are big ones, obviously. As for settings... idk, HP is my forever fandom even as JKR's become an ever bigger piece of shit and that's probably why my brain really likes the idea of castles and magical schools to this day.

Also just the fact that those concepts are both just really cool.

68. Are there any fics that influenced you to write the way you do?

Sacrifices Arc. It was one of the first absurd-length fics I ever really encountered that deeply dug into and portrayed trauma and the struggle of healing in a way I felt was accurate. It also has just... some of the most gorgeous, poetic language at times, it's depiction of the Wild Dark, or Last Time Pays For All, how it weaves worldbuilding into the narration, its characterisation...

It's one of a few fics that taught me that if you drop information in just right it doesn't feel like an infodump, it just feels like character knowledge you're meant to have. That if you just, refer to something, a reader can just infer from that that it's a known thing and you can fill it out more as it becomes relevant. It's a story which showed me that you don't have to infodump all the complex nuances of a complex, nuanced concept at once - you can slowly dole it out piecemeal, explaining how the rigid lawfulness of the Light nonetheless also means freedom in the sense of free will, while the wild freedom of the Dark also carries the freedom to be cruel and just.

God. I love this fic. I love it so much.

75. Is there a particular fic that readers gravitated towards that you didn’t expect?

Good question. In truth, I do not know. I have a reasonable readership and I know how to tag things so for the most part most of my fics get at least a couple of comments and kudos even if it's weird and niche, and I think I have a reasonable handle on what things are more or less popular in a fandom: i know when to temper my expectations. I don't think I've ever had a fic that really blew up where I didn't expect it? Most of my fics got about the level of attention I expected - even if those expectations shifted as I went?

Like... Questions is a Star Wars fic set in @fialleril's excellent Double Agent Vader 'verse, and I asked them for permission to write it as a gift to a friend. As I recall, they reblogged my post about it, and when that happened, I knew that I'd get a sudden influx of readers, because not only is it now inspired by a pretty popular AU, the AU’s creator has shared it on their blog, meaning people who might have passed it by once are seeing it again and might pick it up this time. Something similar with finds and shall find me unafraid - @sparxwrites reblogged the post I made because it's based on a fic of theirs and I asked them for permission, and when that happened I got an additional few people reading the fic, because it was clearly marked as adjacent to their interests.

So like... sometimes my expectations have shifted, but I don't think I've ever had a fic break my expectations without warning.

[kindofwriter]

Just that bit of 177, but as a TV show script, because I have Ideas and no animation skills.

ID (unfortunately) under the cut, bc it’s literally thousands of words long.

ZOLF: Wilde, just talk to me honestly. Why are you... why...

WILDE: (ANGRY NOW) I'll tell you what: I'll talk to you honestly when you talk to me honestly

.WILDE snatches his hand out of ZOLF's.

.WILDE snatches his hand out of ZOLF's.

.WILDE snatches his hand out of ZOLF's.

ZOLF: (HESITANT) I am-

WILDE: (INTERRUPTING) Just say- Just say the words! 'Wilde, we need you to fix it again. Wilde, it's gone wrong, help! Wilde, solve this problem! Wilde; won't take long!'

With each sentence spoken WILDE's appearance changes: we watch him grow older. First we see him as ZOLF first met him: older, but still colourful and fresh-faced. Then we recognise his shorn hair and gaunt features from Damascus. Then, a flash of the man ZOLF has known for the past year: hair at an awkward, choppy length, practical clothes, tired eyes. And finally: thin and exhausted, with a jagged scar splitting across his face. He remains this way as he continues to speak.

WILDE: (ANGER BLURRING INTO UPSET) Just give me one of them! Just talk to me honestly, for the first time! Just, what is it? What- What needs fixing? What's gone wrong? What's on fire? 

WILDE gestures, almost absent-mindedley, out of the window.

CUT TO WIDE SHOT OF ZOLF

ZOLF is silhouetted in front of the window, which no longer shows an idyllic Paris day, but is instead reminiscent of the riots and looting that ensued after Mr Ceiling. A plume of smoke curls up out of Eiffel's folly.

CUT BACK TO WILDE

WILDE: Who died? What do I actually need to fix here? Because right now, this is the first chance I've had in I don't know how long. I've got finals coming up-

Suddenly WILDE is young and irritated again.

WILDE: I've got all of the interviews that are lined up on top, and everything's piling up, and all I've got are people asking me to fix things, and I keep doing it, and I keep fixing everything, brilliant. So, tell me, Zolf, I thought we were friends, but no. What do I need to fix?

ZOLF takes one hesitant, shuffled step towards WILDE.

ZOLF: (GENTLY )You don't have any-

WILDE: (INTERRUPTING )Do you want to cheat off me? Is that it? It's fine. Cheat off me, like everyone else does. It's. Fine.

WILDE drops his gaze, turning towards the garden.

ZOLF: (ANNOYED NOW) You don't have uni! You don't have exams! You don't have interviews! You. Are. Dead!

WILDE turns slightly back towards ZOLF and strokes a finger along his face, where his scar used to be.

ZOLF: You have no responsibility anymore. And you don't need to have any responsibility anymore. That's okay. (SOFTER) But I'm giving you a simple choice: you come back with me, or you don't. That's it. There is no other motive.

ZOLF pauses as if he wants to stop, looking upset and annoyed, then forces himself to press on.

ZOLF: Yes, things are broken. And things need to be fixed, and things need to be sorted out, but that doesn't have to be on you. And it shouldn't be just on you.

ZOLF extends a hand again. WILDE doesn't take it, but he's taken his attention away from the garden.

ZOLF: We're all responsible, for everything. And you died, in pursuit of a fix. And it would not be fair for me to tell you that you have to come back.

ZOLF lowers his hand.

WILDE: So why are you here? What, what, what's your actual point?

ZOLF: (INTERRUPTING) To ask you-

WILDE: (INTERRUPTING) Why don't you just let it lie?

ZOLF: (SOFT AND GENUINE) To ask you if you want to come back. You didn't choose to die, but you can, right now, choose to stay dead. 

WILDE takes a moment to compose himself. He suddenly remembers the drink still clutched in his other hand and finishes it, setting his glass on a table by the door. A breeze from the park ruffles his hair.

ZOLF: I know, better than a lot of people, that death ain't the end. Y'know, I'm a cleric for goodness sake. 

ZOLF touches the space on his chest were his dolphin once hung, then quickly drops his hand again, as if he was burned.

ZOLF: So, there is a, a natural order to things. And people die, and they move on, and that's just how it works.

WILDE: I'm just tired, Zolf. 

WILDE hangs his head, allowing his hair to cover his face in the same way he would do when hiding his scar.

WILDE: That's all. I'm sorry, I'm just- I'm just-

WILDE sighs. ZOLF takes another step closer to him.

ZOLF: I know, Wilde, I am tired too.

WILDE and ZOLF share a glance, one they've probably shared on countless late nights in countless safehouses. WILDE is the first to look away.

WILDE: Everyone thinks that they're carrying this, but they're not. 'Cause you know what happens if they drop the ball? I pick it up, and I pass it to someone else, and if no one else is there to take it I carry the ball myself. That-that's just how this works, and I'm just- I'm just tired. I'm just so tired, Zolf. I'm just. So. Tired.

ZOLF takes one final step; he's now right next to WILDE.

ZOLF: Do you really think you're the only person who feels like that? Everyone feels like that, all the time. Everyone's tired. And everyone has work to do. And-

WILDE: So, what? We just go back and carry on until eventually we can't? That's not-

WILDE sighs heavily, trailing off. ZOLF clenches a fist in frustration, but doesn't let it show on his face.

ZOLF: (WITH AN UPSET TINGE TO HIS VOICE, BUT KINDLY) Not necessarily. Not if you don't want to. I told you, when I first came here, I will turn around and I will go back on my own, and that is fine. 

ZOLF grits his teeth a little as he says this: is is clearly not fine.

ZOLF: That is your choice. But I want you to understand the options.

WILDE takes a deep breath, then looks directly at ZOLF.

WILDE: Just give me a reason, other than because there's something that needs doing. That's all I need. Just one reason, other than 'there is another job for you, Wilde.' That's all I need.

ZOLF seems flustered under WILDE's intense gaze, and for the first time since arriving looks directly away from him.

ZOLF: Do you want there to be another reason?

WILDE: What did I just say? Obviously I do! Yes! 

The tension is broken; ZOLF looks back to WILDE. His brow is furrowed slightly, and he looks like he's trying to hold back what he's about to say next.

ZOLF: (EXTREMELY SOFTLY) Fine. (FORCING THE WORDS OUT, BUT REALLY MEANING THEM) Because I need you, Wilde.

ZOLF reaches out a hand, but doesn't wait for WILDE to take it this time; he just grabs WILDE's hand in his own. A small smile twitches at the corner's of WILDE's lips.

WILDE: (SLIGHT SMILE BLOSSOMING INTO A GRIN) And there we go. An honest answer from Zolf Smith. I never thought I'd hear it.

ZOLF: (WITH RELIEF AND ANGER, BOTH MOCK AND REAL)You were just angling for that?!

ZOLF drops WILDE's hand in an over-dramatised manner. WILDE is chuckling slightly.

ZOLF: (GRINNING) You bastard.

WILDE: No, I wasn't just angling for that, but it's nice to know.

WILDE tucks his hair behind his ear.

ZOLF: Well, I didn't wanna say, because it wouldn't be fair.

WILDE: Oh, nothing's fair.

WILDE gazes over ZOLF's shoulder at something for a moment. The window reflects in his eyes, and there appears to be a figure stood on the balcony, dressed all in black, looking out over the city. ZOLF whips round to see what he's looking at, but there's no one there, save for the toe of a boot disappearing upwards, as if someone's climbing up to the roof. All this takes less than a moment. 

WILDE: Look at it.

They're both looking out the window now - from a distance - watching Paris burn. ZOLF turns back to WILDE.

ZOLF: D- uh. D'you want to come back, or don't you? Like, yeah, uh, I-I've said it, I know. But it's still your choice.

WILDE: Here's the plan. We're gonna finish up these drinks, we go out there-

WILDE gestures to the doorway behind him, but as he does the already darkened park fades completely to black.

WILDE: We'll figure it out. We always do. It's fine. It's just useful to know I'm not just beating my head against the wall for no reason, Zolf, y'know?

WILDE smiles fondly down at ZOLF, allowing the backs of their hands to brush together.

ZOLF: Look-

ZOLF pulls his hand away, and for a moment WILDE looks hurt, until ZOLF grabs hold of his lapels and yanks him down to ZOLF's height. Their noses are almost touching. WILDE smirks coyly and ZOLF looks stoic, but both of their cheeks flush slightly from the proximity.

ZOLF: When this is all done we'll go on holiday or something.

A huge, Cheshire-cat-grin spreads across WILDE's face.

WILDE: Where?

ZOLF: (EXHASPERATED AND FOND) Oh, I don't know! I don't know where's gonna be left after all this is done. But somewhere nice. 

WILDE: (WITH MOCK SINCERITY) Zolf, I won't come back with you until you tell me where we're going on holiday together.

ZOLF: Such a dick.

ZOLF lets go of WILDE, allowing him to straighten up, but as soon as he does ZOLF grabs his hand again.

ZOLF: Come on.

With one final shared smile, WILDE pulls ZOLF after him into the darkness.

END ID].

[nightshade-minho]

-Embers- (2)

warnings: heavy-ish suggestiveness, future smut, themes of heartbreak and pain, mentioned parent death, jealousy, angry fathers.

wc: 5.7k

Heartbreak.

It's something you've thought about, in theory. You've wondered how it feels to be heartbroken, especially when you were younger, when almost everything was of interest to your curious brain. Could a heart break? What exactly did that mean? 

Mr Yang's novels were your first introduction to characters who'd gone through that pain. His books had described it as a perpetual feeling of hurt, one which a person would never get over. You wondered if it was even possible to experience pain like that. Pain so bad you felt your heart shattering.

You still remembered that day you thought about it properly for the first time.

***

You shut your book and looked over at Minho, who had been cloudgazing as he waited for you to finish it. Days like this were common. Minho would get you a new book every week, and the two of you would go to the lake and laze around in the sun. You often worried that Minho would find it boring to sit next to you while you read, having nothing to do. On the contrary, he was quite content with the way things were. He liked how warm the grass felt against his skin, and how calming the sounds of rippling water were as he rested his head against Aeracus’s side.

"Wow. That definitely didn't end on a good note." You shook your head, letting out a sigh and laying back.

Minho glanced up at you, sitting up slightly. "You finished it? So soon?"

"Mhm. I got a little too invested in the story."

"Ah. If I'd known you would read it this fast, I would have borrowed more than one from him."

"It's okay, I can wait a few days.' You say, your tone reassuring as you placed Mr Yang's precious book next to you on the grass, carefully. The man put great care into binding and writing his books, all by hand with no one to assist him. You didn’t want to be the one to soil his hard work.

"Good, cause I'm not going back there so soon. There's three girls who have basically set up camp outside Mr Yang's to catch a glimpse of me."

You rolled your eyes, playfully shoving him. "You act like you're a celebrity or something. We get it, you have a lot of fangirls."

"And fanboys. Some of them are quite cute actually. Just last week a dude proposed to me."

"No way. He proposed?"

"Yeah." He let out a low chuckle. "I think I recognized him from the docks. Seen him once or twice, but I've never said a word to him. I felt bad though, he was actually pretty."

"You should have said yes." You pouted, holding back a giggle. "I've always wanted to be maid of honor at a wedding."

Minho shook his head, sitting up and scooting over. Grabbing your waist, he pulled you into him, so that the both of you were curled up against his sleeping dragon.

"Maid of honor?"

"Yeah! I mean, what's the point of having a best friend if you don't get to play that crucial role in their wedding?"

Minho sighed, looking over at you with a fond smile as he bit his cheek. "Oh Y/n, what am I going to do with you? Maid of honor." He chuckled again at the exaggerated pout you flashed him, poking his side. “What’s so funny?”

There was silence for a few minutes as he looked up at the sky, eyes running over a cloud that looked a little like a five-pointed star. Humming, he leaned in a little.

A short inhale before he whispered into your ear, lips brushing against the shell of it and making your hairs stand on end.

"I hate to break it to you Y/n, but you'll never be maid of honor at my wedding." He mumbled softly, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.

"Cause you'll be the bride."

For a minute, a stunned look passed over your face as you comprehended his words. It took a whole 60 seconds for you to process, but soon you swatted at his hand, descending into a fit of hopeless giggles at his cheesy line. "Shut up!"

"Hey! I was being serious." he had an offended look on his face as he held your chin, making you face him again.

You looked at his expression and stopped, your cheeks flushing as you realized he meant it. Your heart was racing, your eyes blinking rapidly as your mushy mess of a brain tried to figure out what an appropriate, mature response would be.

Quickly you pushed him off you, stumbling to your feet and beginning to run. So much for being mature.

"Race you home!"

Minho watched you run, shaking his head and sighing to himself as he slowly picked himself up. If only you knew how sincere he was.

If only he knew your heart hadn't stopped pounding for the rest of the night.

Mr Yang's books had been the main contribution to your adolescent fantasies, to be honest. As the local librarian, he supplied you with a regular supply of books, but none were as satisfying as the ones he wrote himself. His writing was descriptive on another level, and pulled you in like no other author could. He was your greatest inspiration, which was why his description of heartbreak had been the one to stick with you the most, all the way to adulthood.

It was described as a lingering emotion in the back of your head, staying with you your whole life to remind you of what could have been. It was nauseating, painful and everlasting. He'd written about the emotion so intensively, that at the time you almost felt like you did truly know how it felt.

You were wrong.

Heartbreak, real heartbreak, was a lot less pain and a lot more emptiness. Yes, it did feel like all those things mentioned before- but there was more to it than that. Your heart, which had been brimming with excitement and happiness not too long ago, felt void. Dark, lifeless. It had been so sudden, so out of the blue that your emotions were a confused jumble.

Of course, there was pain too- agony, more like. Ripping through your entire being as you watched him kiss her cheek yet again. It was so all consuming, so terrifyingly excruciating.

You were across the dinner table by your father's side, the spoon in your hand held in a tight grip as you tried your best to avert your eyes from the sight. After all, you were currently sat at the table with three other chiefs and their families, as well as a few advisors and high ranking guards. You had to look refined and elegant, a person befitting the title of Ember’s heir- not a gawking, bitter girl staring at your once lover canoodling with his fiancée.

Finally managing to tear your eyes away, you let your eyes run over the guests that would be staying with you for the next few weeks. You reminded yourself that you were in no position to be a dejected, woeful and pathetic individual in front of all these important people. Appearances had to be kept up, or you would face dire consequences. Your father’s pride was hurt enough as it is, what with his daughter being the only one who couldn’t participate in the championships. You didn’t want to give him any more reasons to hate you.

Next to your father was the Aqua chief, his wife and their daughter- Minho’s fiancée. They were dressed in blue silks, dripping with sapphires and lapides lazuli. The royal blue draped around them was deep, the fabric clearly expensive and not too unlike the dress you were wearing currently. 

The Aqua heiress was the spitting image of her mother, both their faces round and their features pretty. She was dressed similarly to her parents, with a tiny diadem upon her brown locks, her gown objectively fancier than yours. She continued talking to Minho, the plate of food in front of her untouched.

Minho.

You hated how beautiful he looked, dressed in white and grey. His uniform was simple, all clean lines and crisp edges. It suited him perfectly, like it was made for him. Which it probably was. 

The two of them seemed to be in their own little world as Minho whispered something into her ear, making her giggle yet again. Your throat felt clogged. Blinking, you quickly looked away from them, your eyes landing on Minho’s father. He looked the same as he always did, except now slightly frailer. He was wearing the same uniform as his son, although he didn’t quite fill it out the same way. You chewed on your lip, glancing at him one last time before turning to the Terra family. 

The Terra chief was a rotund, pot-bellied man who had his attention completely focused on his plate, not contributing much to the conversation the three other chiefs were having. You couldn’t blame him, really- the maids had cooked up a delightful feast. You were sure you’d have devoured your entire plate by now if circumstances had been different. The empty feeling in your stomach was making it hard to savour the roast beef, which you reluctantly ate. 

He and his wife were both dressed in earthly, neutral tones combined with deep greens- and positively covered in every kind of jewel found under the Earth. The rubies on your dress looked like chili flakes in comparison to the twinkling emeralds and gems on the Terra family.

Their son, the Terra heir, looked just as miffed as you, to be honest. He wasn’t as bejewelled as his parents, wearing a shade of green that provided you comfort as you looked at him. It reminded you of the grass near the lake you and Minho once frequented.

He caught your gaze suddenly. Smiling, his heart-shaped lips curving upwards. He shot a glance towards Minho and his girl, and then back at you, raising an eyebrow.

You tried your best to smile back, or give him a knowing wink, or something. But all you could do was stare blankly, your emotions having been sucked out of you. You still failed to comprehend what had happened, your brain seemingly giving up on you and leaving you alone with nothing but your broken heart for company.

Soon enough, the smile melted away from the man's face, and he looked back down at his plate, a little dejected. You felt a flash of regret, fleeting however as you suddenly felt a sharp voice whispering in your ear.

You looked up in confusion at your father, who had previously been immersed in a conversation with Minho’s father and the Aqua chief. Now his face was right by your ear.

"Number one, stop staring. You’re lucky I’m the only one who noticed. Number two, stop by my office before you go to sleep tonight, okay? It’s important." He said, voice stern.

Gulping and nodding, you watched as he turned away, diving right back into the conversation he was having. What did he possibly want to talk about? You rarely talked to your father these days, unless arguments could be counted.

You spent the rest of the meal in contemplation, staring down at your plate. Your hand moved methodically, shoving food into your mouth without actually tasting anything; All you could taste was regret.

It hurt. It hurt so fucking bad. Despite not looking up, her giggle still pierced your ears from time to time, stabbing you deep in the heart. You'd seen it...the way Minho had been looking at her. He'd once reserved such looks for you and you only. Turns out, every meaningful word he'd said back then were lies. Every promise of forever had been empty.

A small part of you reminded yourself that it wasn't his fault he was kicked out from your village. He’d thought you didn’t oppose your father, and simply watched as he and his father was humiliated. Were you being irrational in expecting him to have stayed single until he came back to you? Hell, was it stupid to think he could even bear to glance at you after what your father had did?

Life was unpredictable, nothing was written in stone. How could he even have known he'd ever be in the same room as you again?

No. Y/n, don't do this. Don't force yourself to make up excuses for him. The man had barely cast a glance at you since he arrived. His eyes had been cold and stony the only time you'd made eye contact. 

Besides, if he really knew you, he would have known you wouldn’t betray him like that. And if he really loved you, he would have waited. He wouldn’t have moved on so easily. 

It was still fresh in your mind, despite having happened a few hours ago, now. The way you’d felt your hopes and dreams shattering to the ground in a million pieces, all in a span of a few seconds. Your heart, vibrating so fast it was almost going to implode.

As you continued drowning in your emotions, reliving the pain you'd felt, you suddenly felt a pair of eyes burning into you, sharply. Confused, you looked up, expecting the Terra heir to be the one looking back at you.

It wasn't him.

Minho quickly looked away before you could react, going back to talking to the heiress. It had only been for a second, but you’d caught him.

He’d been staring. At you. For a second, the tiniest flash of hope lit up your heart. But it was gone quickly, as the Aqua chief started laughing boisterously at a question the Terra chief's wife had asked.

"Yes, Jisu and Minho are deeply in love, Calandra. Honestly. Why would they be getting married otherwise?" He smiled, looking over at the two who had stopped talking to listen.

"This one-" He ruffled his daughter's head, chuckling. "She was so smitten. Kept sneaking out past the border to meet him. Of course when I found out, I was more than happy to let them join hands. I couldn’t imagine a son better than Minho to marry my little girl."

"That's sweet." You glanced up at your father as he said the words. He seemed to be gritting his teeth in slight vexation, the annoyance on his face clear. At least, to you it was.

"The wedding will take place a month after the championships." Minho's father said suddenly, smiling proudly as he grabbed a glass of wine. "You're all invited, of course. It will take place at my village. Now, raise a glass for the happy couple!"

A few claps sounded as everyone at the table raised their glasses. You carefully avoided Jisu's shy smile and Minho's confident smirk, his arm wrapped around her shoulder firmly. As if she would break into a million pieces if he let go.

You hated that you knew exactly how he behaved when he was in love. And now you weren’t on the receiving end of his adoration. 

You weren’t used to this. 

Yes, you’d lived your life as normally as you could without him for the past few years...but this was different. He was right there, and yet he wasn’t yours. So close, but you couldn’t touch him. Couldn’t feel him. Couldn’t kiss his lips and tell him how much he meant to you.

Your eyes darted about as they tried to find an appropriate thing to focus your gaze on. You raised your glass like everyone else, downed the amber liquid a little faster than the rest. You refused to let yourself look at the two.

Your eyes landed on the Terra heir after a few seconds. You weren't completely sure what his name was, but you have a vague recollection of your father telling you everyone’s names. Of course, at the time you’d been too overcome with excitement to digest the information.

Felix? Yes, that was it.

He seemed sweet. Friendly, even. His smile was a little sympathetic as he looked back at you, and that threw you off. You decided to put a smile on your face immediately, trying to conceal the pain that you’d hoped wasn’t evident.

Your mind flitted back and forth as everyone’s plates gradually cleared up. What were you going to do after this? 

Originally, you'd been planning to go to Minho's room tonight. Fuck, you’d dreamed of how tonight would go for months now, ever since your father had told you the news. But how could you now? 

Everything was fucking disintegrating.

***

You walked down the hallway to your father's office, your heels clicking against the stone slabs. Your dress was starting to feel itchy, and you couldn’t wait to take it off. You resentfully recalled how excited you’d felt when your maids had helped you into it. How all you could think about was Minho seeing you in it. You’d never expected him to barely acknowledge you.

Sighing, you passed through the hallway, stopping when you heard a high-pitched giggle come out of nowhere.

Furrowing your eyebrows, you glanced around you in confusion. 

Another laugh, this one deeper, followed by what seemed like a...moan?

The pain came back full force, hurtling through you and overtaking you completely. As you walked, the sounds started to feel closer. You wished you could cover your ears to block them out, but at the same time you were consumed with curiosity. Was it what you think it was?

Suddenly, you heard another sound. Now, it was clear where they were coming from.

The sounds were from beyond the door that led to your father's old bedroom, the one he used to share with your mother before she died. You frowned, puzzled as you walked closer to the door.

Had he really given away that room to Minho and his fiancée? It hadn't been used in years, and had always been covered up and inaccessible. Even the maids weren’t allowed to clean in there. It was the biggest bedroom in the house, and the thought of it occupied by them was causing fresh tears to prick at your eyes. 

You felt the lump in your throat make itself more prominent, blinking rapidly as your heart pounded. Suddenly, your legs started moving of their own accord.

Before you knew it, you were stood in front of the large door, your hand raised and knocking firmly on the gilded wood as you swallowed.

There was complete silence for a second or two, but then there were scrambling noises, along with the sound of rustling bedsheets. You tried to calm the beating of your heart, as you waited for the door to open.

When it finally did, you felt like your heart was almost about to burst out of your chest.

She was the one who opened it. She was clearly half naked, having pulled on a blue robe hastily. Running a hand through her hair, she greeted you, her voice a little shaky.

"Oh- um, hello…” She pressed her lips together, glancing behind her for a second. You followed her gaze, to Minho on the bed.

He was shirtless, his hair messed up and his eyes carefully trained on the wall beside him, away from you. You swallowed again, tears threatening to spill past your eyes as you quickly tried to turn your attention back to the woman in front of you.

Too late. She'd noticed. She frowned at you, subtly moving to the side a little to cover Minho from your view.

"I know we haven't formally met yet. I'm Choi Jisu, the Aqua heiress. I’m sure you know." She smiled, albeit a little forced. "And I did want to thank you for letting us stay-"

There was an impatient grunt from behind her, and she looked behind back briefly before turning to you once more.

"Um, I don’t know if you noticed, but I was kind of in the middle of something. Sorry." She tried her best to hide her smile, her voice heavily insincere. “Let’s talk later, Y/n. And maybe next time you won’t be interrupting anything.” She smiled, beginning to close the door.

"Later." 

You just stood there dumbfounded, not knowing how to reply. Your face was passive but your brain was overrun with thoughts. The tears would spill any minute now. 

She frowned at your reaction, tilting her head before gently shutting the door in your face.

You just stood there for a moment. You could hear Minho's voice, muffled as he said something to her.

A part of you wanted to press your ear to the door and listen, but you already looked pathetic enough to the guards standing in the hallway, one of them already having flashed you a sympathetic look. You were really having enough of all this fucking sympathy.

Sighing, you dragged your feet away, trying to push everything down, but to no avail. There were too many enotions, and they were too heavy to even let you think. 

You thought back to her behaviour. You'd definitely picked up on her attitude, which had soured after she’d caught you looking at her fiancé. Jisu wasn’t a fan of you, that much was clear. And neither was the person who’d once declared himself your biggest fan. Ironic, really.

***

“Who was at the door?” Minho asked carefully, although he’d already seen you. Standing there, looking at him. 

You’d looked smaller, vulnerable. So, so different. Almost alarmingly so.

He tried to best to keep his tone even, eyes trained on Jisu as she slunk back to the bed, having shut the door.

“The Ember heiress.” She said, a slight sting to her tone. “Why do you think she came?” She asked, raising an eyebrow as she sat on the edge of the bed.

“I...don’t know.” Minho muttered, staring at the bedsheets. His heart was clenching, hands starting to shake a little. 

No. Not in front of Jisu.

“Weren’t you two ‘best friends’ once?” She asked carefully, having picked up on his icy behavior. Jisu knew, of course. Despite Minho and you trying to keep it a secret, at one point the entire village came to know the two of you were in love. The information had even spread across the village, to others. 

Of course, the chiefs were the only ones who’d been clueless, only finding out after they’d been separated.

Minho scoffed, shaking his head. He gestured to her, hooking his fingers under his boxers to pull them down. “Forget that. Come back here, baby.”

Jisu raised an eyebrow, looking like she wanted to say more. However, Minho’s almost naked body was difficult to resist.

Shrugging, she slid her robe off, letting the silk fall to the floor as she straddled him. His hands ran up her hips, watching her, feeling her. 

His brain, however, felt like it was a million miles away.

***

The tears ran down your face. You were no longer able to hold them back. Realizing you were probably about to break down in the middle of the hallway, you walked faster towards the office- 

Until you bumped into someone on the way, almost knocking them over.

“Woah, woah, slow down.” Felix chuckled, holding onto your arms to keep you on your feet.

You looked up at him, blinking as you registered what you’d just done. “Fuck- I’m so sorry-”

“No, it’s okay.” He smiled, realizing his hands were still on you. He quickly took them away, tucking them into his pockets. His cheeks were dusted a light pink as he cleared his throat, looking at you in concern.

You quickly wiped away your tears, but Felix had unfortunately already noticed.

“Hey, are you okay? I noticed... I noticed you didn’t seem so happy at the dinner.” He said softly, looking down at you. 

You remained silent, staring at the floor as you wondered how to reply. You didn’t want to seem any more pitiable than you already were.

“Uh, it’s okay if you don’t want to say anything. I’m sorry if I overstepped.” He shook his head, stepping back slightly. His voice was almost more nervous than yours. “Um, I’ll leave you be now. Sorry-”

You looked up, sighing. “Wait…” 

Felix looked back, an expectant, almost hopeful look on his face. You didn’t want to let him down, you really didn’t...but it was difficult to pretend like you were okay. You were shivering, biting on your lip. You already felt humiliated enough.

“Sorry. I...I need to go, I’m sorry.” You mumbled, quickly walking away from a bewildered Felix. As soon as you turned the corner, you breathed a sigh of relief, leaning against the wall as your body shuddered. 

You’d never cried like this, not even when Caeli had died. Not even when Minho had left, because back then you’d still possessed some kind of hope. Hope that just wasn’t there anymore.

Rubbing your cheeks, you managed to get rid of the tear stains. You hoped your eyes weren’t too red- you weren’t ready for any comments from your father today. Breathing in, you continued walking, still massaging your eyes in a desperate bid to get them dry.

You groaned as you noticed you’d reached your father’s office quicker than you thought you would. Inhaling deeply, you tried to pull yourself together. You really didn’t like showing weakness in front of him, but lately that was all you did.

You knocked on the door carefully, waiting for him to open the door.

“Door’s open, come in.”

You pushed open the heavy oak door, stepping in.

"Y/n. Finally. Where have you been?"

"Nowhere important." You said quickly, clearing your throat. "Um... you said you wanted to see me, dad?"

He cleared his throat. "Yes." He rearranged the files on his desk quickly, standing and coming over to lean on the front of his desk. He sighed, screwing his face up in thought as he wondered where to start.

"I can’t believe Lee really scored a marriage for his son. Do you know what this means? A heir marrying an heiress? They'll possess power we can’t even begin to imagine." He paced back and forth, clenching his fists in barely concealed anger. You rolled your eyes slightly. Of course your father thought it was a ploy to gain power. He’d never believed in love, and most probably never will.

“So?” 

"So? So?!” He shook his head. “See, this is exactly why the villagers think you’re too incompetent.” He glared, making you cower. Your heart pounded quicker, your lips pressing together. No more tears, you had to control them.

“Look, Y/n...I’ll put it plain and simple. Ember has been the most powerful for centuries. We’ve always had the strongest dragons, and the sturdiest men. Our village is the largest in the country, and all eyes are on us.”

He pinched his forehead. “Do you know how embarrassing it is that Ember’s heiress, the one who should be the most powerful of all, is nothing but a lovesick, pathetic little girl who doesn’t even have a fucking dragon to compete with?!”

You blinked, sniffing as you stared at the floor. You could always count on your father to reinforce negative emotions. His eyes burning into you, chest heaving in anger. 

He sighed, watching as your shoulders shook slightly. Softening a little, he inhaled. It always went that way. He’d blow up at you, and subsequently regret it. He couldn’t take back anything he said, though.

“Sorry, child.” You remained silent, looking up a little. His face seemed sincere enough.

“Hm. I have an idea..." He mumbled, placing a finger on his chin. You could almost see the cogs and gears turning in his brain.

"What did you think of Felix? Nice boy, isn't he?"

You frowned at your father's words, his expression seeming innocent...but his intentions clearly weren't.

"The Terra heir?" You asked, sighing. "He seems nice. Why are you asking?"

"No reason." He shrugged, fiddling with the Ember figurine on his desk.

You groaned, rubbing your forehead. "Dad...don't tell me you want to marry me off to him."

"What?? No!" Your father shook his head vehemently, still playing with the figurine and avoiding your eyes. "I was just thinking. Uh-"

He looked back at you and sighed. "Okay, I'm sorry. But...just consider it, okay? An arranged marriage...an alliance between Ember and Terra could be phenomenal."

You pursed your lips, flashes of Minho and Jisu running through your head as you thought it over. Fuck it, why not? It wasn’t like you had any reason to oppose him. "Fine, dad. I’ll think about it, but I’m not promising anything. Besides, I don’t even know if he’s interested in me."

"I saw the way he was looking at you from across the table, child. He definitely has some curiosity, at the very least.” He hummed. “Anyway, that's actually not why I called you here."

You raised an eyebrow, confused as he went back to his seat, sitting down and pulling up a large, dusty book.

"Look...I'm worried. There's something ominous about this. Their marriage...it poses too many conveniences and benefits for both the chiefs to be a mere coincidence.”

You frowned, confused. "What do you mean?"

He looked to be deep in thought. When he heard you speak, he snapped back to attention, shaking his head. "I’m not sure yet. Now, even if I managed to convince Farran to get his child married to you, it still doesn’t provide us power directly. Without a dragon, it’s likely they’ll make you reside in the Terra village once this is all over.” He hummed, looking like he was talking to himself rather than addressing you. “No...we need a reason to make you stay here. You’re an Ember heiress, the future chief of this legendary village. However, you definitely need to look the part. You need to prove to everyone that you’re powerful, Y/n. Shatter their expectations...and mine.” He smiled, gesturing for you to come closer.

 “I was wondering...do you want to participate in the championships?"

Your eyes widened impossibly, your words stuttering as you moved forward. You couldn’t believe your ears, not one bit. It sounded too good to be true.

“Wait- really?”

“Yes.”

“But...but I don’t have a drag-”

“You can participate with Aeracus.”

No. No way. For the first time since the welcoming, you felt true happiness overtake you. Jumping, you squealed in delight, barely able to hide your glee. “Oh my god, thank you, dad! Thank you so so much.”

He chuckled as he watched you, flipping a page. “This has never been done before, so expect some backlash. I’m sure once they see the bond you have with Aeracus though, they’ll change their minds.”

You couldn’t believe it. Your father, the most skeptical dragon purist the world had ever seen, was acknowledging your bond.

“But...what about Minho?”

“Aeracus is no longer his dragon, Y/n. He has a new one.” Of course, you’d noticed. The huge black dragons he and his father had been riding. You felt a sensation of unease drift through you as you thought about the creatures, the likes of which you’d never seen before. 

New lover, new dragon. He’d really left this place behind.

“Something’s off about those dragons.” He voiced the exact same concern you had. “They’re up to something. I just don’t know what.” He turned back to his book, taking his quill back up. “I’ll find out, though. Somehow. Now, go to sleep, kid. You have a big day tomorrow, now that you’re actually participating.”

You nodded, excitement coursing through your veins. “Sure, dad. Have a good night.” You bowed and turned around, your steps a lot lighter as you headed to your room, which was close by.

Reaching your room, you pushed open the door, smiling as you noticed Sylvia fast asleep at your dressing table. Moving slightly closer, you gently nudged her awake.

“Wha- I-” She shot up, mouth open as she bowed to you. “I’m so sorry, ma’am, I was just arranging and-I’ll help you out of your dress, now-”

“Sh, it’s okay. Tonight’s been tiring. You deserve the rest.” You said sadly, patting her shoulder as a yawn left your mouth. “Go to sleep, and don’t come by tomorrow. I’m perfectly capable of dressing myself. I want you to relax, okay? Head to the docks, or buy yourself some bread in the square.” You opened a tiny drawer and handed a few coins to her, enough to get some sweetbread from the bakery.

She nodded thankfully. “You’re the best, ma’am.” She giggled, accepting the coins from you. 

“What have I told you about calling me ma’am? We’re the same age, Sylvia, it makes me uncomfortable. It’s Y/n to you.”

“Fine. Y/n.” She smiles, heading to the door. “Good night, Y/n.”

You grinned widely at that. You loved how easygoing she was, unlike Ann, your head maid. You weren’t royalty, and hated being treated as such. A friend was all you needed, to be honest. And Sylvia managed to fill the best friend sized hole Minho had left behind, somewhat. 

She closed the door behind her, and you sighed, flopping down onto your soft bed and beginning to slip off your heels and the heavy dress, carefully placing it on a rack. The moon shone extra bright today, and you noticed the streets outside were still lit up with lanterns. Soon, they’d be turned off, and the streets would be quiet once more, except for a few drunken stragglers that didn’t want to stop celebrating.

And you would be left alone with your thoughts.

You slid yourself underneath your covers, sighing as you stared at the moon. In the distance, you could see a few dragons and their riders, flying through the air. They were quite far away, possibly near the outskirts. 

Tomorrow, you’d be able to ride Aeracus like that, after so many years. Every time Minho had let you climb atop his dragon, it had just felt like it was meant to be. Deep down, you felt bad, though...for Caeli, for Minho. However, it was just the plain truth.

You smiled as you decided to buy Aeracus a bunch of treats tomorrow. Ostrich eggs, phoenix meat- you were planning to go all out. He deserved it, after all.

In a way, tonight had possibly been the worst night of your life, and simultaneously the best. Your heart felt pulled in two, as you closed your eyes and willed yourself to sleep.

You had a big day tomorrow.

[ahalal-uralma]

As you so kindly, enthusiastically, and thoroughly answered my previous ask on film recommendations, expressing your thoughts and feelings on each one, I thought I'd send you some more suggestions for you to look through at your leisure...

Again, these span different genres and eras, and are all favourites of mine too... : )

- The Apartment (1960)

- Beauty and the Beast (1978)

- Branded to Kill (1967)

- The Cremator (1969)

- Dead of Night (1945)

- Delicatessen (1991)

- The Firemen's Ball (1967)

- The Haunting (1963)

- L'Immortelle (1963)

- The Iron Rose (1973)

- Kind Hearts and Coronets (1949)

- Naked (1993)

- Repo Man (1984)

- Seconds (1966)

- Solyaris (1972)

- The Trial (1962)

- Vampyr (1932)

- The Vanishing (1988)

- The Wicker Man (1973)

- A Zed and Two Noughts (1985)

The Apartment (1960)

Yes! I am weak for any film with Jack Lemmon in it. I also really love him in "Some like it Hot," "Grumpy Old Men," "The Front Page," "The Odd Couple," etc. He was a gift to the earth. If you asked me for my top ten male film actors of all time, he definitely must be on that list.

Beauty and The Beast (1978)

Ok, I need to see it. I didn’t know this version even existed! I’ve seen so many like the 1946 release and the more recent French 2014 release of Belle et la Bete (I have watched both the English and French Dubs), but I have not seen this one! I need to remedy this and just looking at screencaps is blowing my mind. He’s a bird? Interesting, I wonder why they went with that choice. 

Branded To Kill (1967)

I have never seen this film. I have no opinion swaying in favor or against it. I might give it a shot one day out of curiosity. I really love how they shot the monochrome style of it. I am in love with that, actually.

The Cremator (1969)

I have not seen this, but looking between screencaps and the synopsis my thoughts are surfing around the film Harold and Maude (1971) if it was told in the style of Alfred Hitchcock. Am I thinking wrong here? 

Dead Of Night (1945)

Oh, God. Another film I remember watching with my father--that ventriloquist dummy. I still do not understand the obsession with those, but to each their own really. Definitely do not recommend it if they freak you out, because it’ll definitely freak someone out. 

Delicatessen (1991)

I am not familiar with this film, but screencaps tells me I want to keep it that way. I do not care for the imagery of the food. Or the suggestion of things I shall not begin to give name to. It seems a little too macabre for my liking...which is really saying something when I enjoy the Hannibal franchise. Or does it just mean I am contradicting myself? Fine. I am contradicting myself. 

The Firemen's Ball (1967)

Eh. Just Eh. 

The Haunting (1963)

I haven’t seen the original yet. I have only seen the 1999 remake with Owen Wilson, Catherine Zeta Jones, etc. It doesn’t really hold up well with the special effects, but it is still quite entertaining with beautiful sets. I swear I still have dreams about the carousel room. I have some really fond memories of watching this adaptation with my mom. No matter how many times we’ve watched the piano scene, we gasp. Seeing people lose their heads? Fine. Seeing a person lose their eye? No.

L'Immortelle (1963)

This movie feels like a bit of a fever dream for me. I’ve watched it once, but I can’t even remember under what circumstances or with who that would have been. I mean, they are trying to resolve the kidnapping of prostitutes. But damn, the lingerie was beautiful in this movie. I want it.

The Iron Rose (1973)

I can’t say I’ve seen this, but it looks interesting. I feel like I should have more familiarity with it since the title resonates. I have probably seen or shared a post about it before without fully knowing it was a film, I mean....it involves a beautiful cemetery and I’m kind of a weakling for cemeteries. It might sound a little odd, but I find them to be magical places. Not in the same way a castle or fairy woodland would be, but in a solemn and haunted way. It’s a place humans have chosen to preserve memories and protect them.

Kind Hearts and Coronets (1949)

I feel like I’m missing out on an important film. I really love the promotional posters and stills. This looks so gorgeous to me. I mean, this one for example. Reminds me of vintage victorian postcards a little:

Naked (1993)

It has David Thewlis?! I need to watch it just for him. Really. No other reason needed. That’s plenty reason. He can never be present enough in films if you want my two cents. He’s a gem. Kingdom of Heaven? Dragon heart? He will be forever one of my favorite fantasy film villains. He goes from perfect gentleman to the biggest bastard and I just love him. Talented man. He’s like one of those actor crushes that you get not for his looks, but for his mind and energy.

Also, who hasn’t gone feral watching him in a sword fight? He could kill me and I would thank.

Repo Man (1984)

Closest thing to seeing this film is the farthest with Repo! The Genetic Opera (2008). I have no idea about this, but know they are nothing alike.

God, now I’m wanting to watch the Genetic Opera again. I love everything..especially, the music. I have so many emotions about that movie. It has Sarah Brightman (goddess) and strangely somehow, Paris Hilton is there and she didn’t ruin the experience? She makes sense to the plot? Talk about a fever dream.

And then, we have Terrance Zdunich as Grave-Robber. In an alternate universe where I am single, he can honestly rail me in the cemetery so hard that I ricochet between the coffins till I’m singing about how he’s going to sedate my enemies before their surgery but I did not say that and you can’t prove it.

Seconds (1966)

I feel like I’ve seen this or part of this? I do not remember how it ends, but remember part of the plot. I remember the man returning from his faked death with a new identity or something like that.

Solyaris (1972)

I am familiar with Tarkovsky’s other works like Nostalgia and Andrei Rublev, but not this one. Not yet.

The Trial (1962)

Yes! Know this one. This is a mystery flick for deep thinkers for sure. Plot aside, those scenes and sets really do something to you. Everything is so intense in that “life is occurring in surreal and disturbing cycles” kind of way. It does great service to the writing of Franz Kafka without any doubt. It looks how I imagine the interior of his mind would have been like.

Vampyr (1932)

Love it. Well, I love any good cinema involving the mythos of vampires in general and all the more if they appear in black and white. Nosferatu (1922)? Dracula (1931)? *chefs kiss* Masterpieces.

The Vanishing (1988)

I haven’t seen this and I can’t say it speaks to me on any level. It just isn’t sparking my curiosity or anything.

The Wicker Man (1973)

Ah. The classic film Midsommar wish it was.

A Zed And Two Noughts (1973)

I have never heard of this movie, let alone seen it. But, can we just take a moment to appreciate the wild ride that is the start of the synopsis?

“Identical twins lose their wives in a car crash caused by a white swan. Both brothers are zoologists and become obsessed with the death and decay of animals.”

What in the absolute hell is this movie and how much will I regret investigating the plot?

All in all, I have to give you props for stumping me on some of these titles. There’s a good mix of classics in here that I know, but I feel like I just dissociated from a by-gone era (or two) hearing about the others.

[phantom-curve]

Congrats on reaching your follower milestone soon, dear! It was tough choosing a prompt because there are some really nice ones on the list—but I'll go with #2 aspectabund for Julie and Luke. I'd love to be less predictable and choose another 'verse than "gimme a chance" but I am weak. (Unless you’re really not feeling it, then I'd love to see a oneshot of your liking. No pressure. ♥️)

thank you!! and thank you for this prompt and pairing because I had actually imagined this exact scene weeks ago but I knew I wasn't going to be able to make it work in the full fic, so now I get to just write it as a deleted scene for you! in the timeline of the gimme a chance AU, this is set after the last deleted scene but before the scene with Alex and Reggie in chapter 6. just a little moment of Luke and Julie still not really knowing what they are but recklessly forging ahead anyway❤️ (with some Flynn backstory thrown in for good measure!)

aspectabund - letting emotions show easily through the face or eyes (Rated M for consistency, language, and a fairly suggestive setting)

Luke could study Julie in any light and find her beautiful, but there was something about seeing her under the dimmed interior lighting of the bar bathroom that felt particularly special. Maybe it was the way she seemed to glow underneath the muted lights that surrounded the bathroom mirror. Maybe it was because it was the first place he had ever experienced a softer, more vulnerable moment with her. Maybe it was because her presence alone somehow managed to turn even the grungiest of atmospheres into something beautiful and magical.

Whatever the reason, Luke had come to love the times he managed to steal away with her into the bathroom, losing himself in the feel of her lips pressed against his and her warm skin beneath his seeking fingers, every inch of him filled to the brim with thoughts of her and her alone. His port in the storm, the guiding light he couldn’t help but follow. Julie Molina, his brightest burning star.

Tonight was almost identical to every other night that Julie came by the bar. Another open mic, another flirty encounter exchanged via lyrics over shots of tequila, the background noise of whoever happened to be up on stage never quite loud enough to pull them out of their own little personal bubble. Dante was working, which meant Luke didn’t feel quite so bad about sneaking into the bathroom during his 10 to find Julie waiting, lips soft and inviting against his own, curves just as sweet as he remembered though always better than he imagined in his dreams at night. She had been driving him crazy all night in her cropped band tee and the jeans that he had a love/hate relationship with. Denim shouldn’t be allowed to look that good and then be that damned difficult to take off.

They had come together quickly, never willing to waste their stolen time together when there was a clock ticking and a bar still full of patrons just a door away. As much as it might feel like their own private world locked away in the bathroom, the real world still continued on outside without much cause for stopping. Tonight though, Luke couldn’t help but linger just a moment after he finally came down from the way Julie had left him gasping her name. Her head was still tucked into the crook of his neck, her hair even wilder than it had been when she first showed up. She was an absolute vision. A true goddess. It blew his mind she was even willing to give him the time of day, and he was constantly reminded of how lucky he was to have these small, stolen moments with her.

Julie seemed to notice his extra attention, pulling her flushed face clear of its hiding place and regarding him with a look that he couldn’t quite decipher. Soft, but still guarded. Their eyes met and he was so sure she would see it then. The love he was never able to fully hold back anymore. He studied her from head to toe, let his gaze caress every inch of her body with the kind of soft adoration that tended to make itself known the second she was within his vicinity these days.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?”

Her question wasn’t an accusation, but Luke felt the need to hide from her probing all the same. It wasn’t her fault he had fallen in love with her. He didn’t get to force that on her when she hadn’t ever asked for it or encouraged it in the first place. His mind blanked for a moment, scrambling to come up with a plausible answer to her question. He blurted the first thing he could think of, not sure where the thought had come from but willing to follow it to the end if it meant insight into Julie and steering clear of his own emotional turmoil.

“Where does Flynn think you are when you come here?”

Julie pulled back further, her legs closing slightly as if it would force him out of his position there. Luke didn’t retreat. Kept his hands alongside the dip of her waist, fingers softly stroking the bare skin underneath the shirt she still wore. He made sure his gaze was soft and steady. He wasn’t trying to chastise her, just maybe understand her a bit better. She had said Flynn didn’t know about the nights she came to the bar, but there was no way her best friend was missing the fact that three nights out of the week, Julie wasn’t home until well past midnight.

“The library.”

The answer seemed so ridiculous that Luke couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled up in his chest. Julie’s arms folded across her chest, nose scrunching into an adorable pout that he wanted to kiss away. She tilted her head to the side, hair falling over her shoulder, and he could practically read her mind through the look on her face. She was not amused. Luke backpedaled a bit, trying to explain exactly why her cover up seemed so flimsy to him.

“You tell Flynn you’re going to the library and then you come home looking like that and she just...believes you’ve been at the library?”

Luke pointed towards the mirror behind them, and Julie turned to follow his finger. She seemed startled to see her own appearance: hair wild and mussed, cheeks still flushed with leftover satisfaction, lips swollen from his kisses, eyes shining in a way he had only seen right after he played for her and right after he made her fall apart with his touch. She tucked a stray curl behind her ear, smoothing the smaller hairs along her temple as if that would control them. It didn’t do much, just like Luke knew it wouldn’t. Julie’s mouth twisted to the side in an annoyed grimace, and she turned away from the mirror to look up at him once more.

“Well, no. I tell her I’m going to the library when I leave the apartment, and then I usually do go there for a few hours before coming here. She’s always asleep by the time I get home. Flynn is a strict lights-out-at-10 type of girl, unless Carrie is the one keeping her up.”

A light shudder worked its way down Julie’s spine and Luke didn’t even try to think about the ways Carrie might be keeping Flynn awake past 10. Instead, he chose to focus on the minor revelations about the inner workings of exactly how Julie ended up at the bar every Tuesday and Thursday as well as most Saturdays.

“Huh. That weirdly makes sense for her. Yet another reason for her to hate me, I guess. Sleeping that early is for grannies and kids.”

He delivered the last line with a teasing smirk. He mostly meant it as a joke. It was easier to poke fun at Flynn if he was doing it in a way that also kind of poked fun at himself. Then it wasn’t so much him shit talking her as it was him admitting he wasn’t always his favorite person either. Julie must have seen something behind his eyes or on his face though because all of the sudden she softened, her hands raising from where they had been holding her up on the counter to cradle his face instead. The move was so intimate it made him want to purr. He settled for leaning into her hold, head turned to sneak a quick kiss against her palm. When he met her eyes, the guarded walls in her gaze had melted, leaving only a gentle kind of fondness in their wake.

“Flynn doesn’t hate you.”

Luke snorted. Julie���s tone was soft and sweet, but he knew a lie when he heard one, no matter how nicely it was said.

“Yes, she does.”

He could tell she was about to argue, so he lifted one finger to rest against her lips, effectively cutting off whatever she had been about to say as he continued talking.

“Flynn hasn’t liked me since we first met, and I asked her who the cute blonde musician was without knowing it was Carrie. Then I made the mistake of going off about how I knew Carrie was a musician because, well, I just knew, and she liked that even less. But I was upgraded to hate the night you came to our show with her, and I made a complete ass of myself. It’s fine, Julie. I know the score. You don’t have to pretend she likes me just cause we’re...ya know...”

He trailed off awkwardly, not quite willing to label them as casual when that had become his absolute least favorite word in the English language lately. The finger that had been held to her lips curled back into the palm of his hand so he could raise it to scratch at the back of his neck. The sight seemed to soften Julie even more, one of her hands falling from its spot against his cheek to rest against his bare chest, directly above his heart. There was a tenderness behind the action that was new for them, Julie’s eyes warm and gentle as she regarded him. He wasn’t sure he liked the way it made his heart stutter and constrict, wished he had the extra layer of his shirt between them for the first time ever, but she was still perched on top of it where he had laid it down as a barrier between her and the countertop.

“Luke.”

The sound of his name sent another wave of longing through him. His eyes had to be practically overflowing with the depths of his feelings for her by now. She had to be able to see it.

“Flynn does not hate you. She just...doesn’t understand you.”

He couldn’t quite believe that they were in a bathroom at Ebbie’s, half-dressed and still just barely back on the Earthly plane, and somehow, they were discussing Flynn of all people. Luke generally did his best not to think about Flynn, especially lately when he was certain if she ever found out what he was up to there wouldn’t be a place in this world he would be able to hide from her. He tried to play it off again, make a joke that would lighten the atmosphere and get them off of the topic that he was constantly pretending didn’t hurt as much as it did.

“Julie, Flynn isn’t the one I’m worried about hating me. That ship has sailed, and she’s the captain of it. It’s okay. As long as I have you, I’m not gonna worry about something I can’t change.”

Okay, so that was maybe a bit sappier than he should have worded it, but the sentiment was true, all the same. It was getting harder and harder for him to hold back those pieces of himself lately. The parts that wanted desperately to belong to Julie and no one else.

The delicate hand that had been resting against his cheek trailed a gentle path up to tuck itself behind his head, dislodging his own hand from where it had still been nervously scratching. There was a new look in her eyes, one he hadn’t seen before, not even when he had tried to take her home and had been offered a small acquiescence in the form of dropping her off at her own home instead. This look was much softer, almost endless in its depth and Luke felt his breath catch as if she had stolen it away herself. This was a look that felt precious and vulnerable and like maybe she was finally going to strike the word casual from the definition of their relationship. He dipped his head, forehead falling to rest against her own so he could bathe in that look for as long as possible. Julie didn’t pull away. Instead, her grip tightened over his heart and around the back of his neck. An invitation for him to close that small gap between them once more and bring his lips to hers.

This kiss was different too. No edge to it at all, just a soft sigh of movement against one another. Neither one taking from the other, each simply offering a piece of themselves. A gentle understanding, a moment of true harmony together where they were on the same page. Luke had no fucking clue what, exactly, that page was, but he would stay there and reread it over and over again until he died if it meant holding Julie against him like this.

The timer on his phone chirped, the sound just barely audible through the material of his pants. It was a warning, their warning, that this stolen moment was fast coming to an end and if Luke didn’t get back out to the bar someone would come looking. Luke had never hated an interruption more in his entire life. For as long as he lived, he didn’t think he’d be able to reach his limit of basking in the presence of Julie Molina, but especially like this when it felt all the more precious and fleeting.

Slowly, she pulled herself back, their lips parting in a way that told him she would have continued to linger without the interruption. He almost gave into the temptation of ignoring the alarm so that he could dive back in, but then she pressed her fingers against her lips. The action, so simple and unassuming, nearly had his heart bursting. Because she wasn’t looking at him. Her eyes were still closed, her breathing fast and erratic. When she finally met his gaze a good ten seconds later, he was shocked to see a type of longing he had only recognized in himself reflected in the melted chocolate of her irises.

“You have to get back out there before Dante comes looking for you.”

Her voice was breathless and just this side of needy, like the thought of him leaving made her all the more desperate to keep him there. It was the strongest show of willpower that he didn’t haul her back into his arms for a repeat performance of when he first arrived in the bathroom. He nodded slowly, the sound of his metal chains and belt buckle clinking as he readjusted his jeans the only noise in the room. She slipped off the counter, offering his shirt back to him with a shy smile as she pulled her own jeans back into place. The cotton slipped over his head, and Luke silently cursed the way it obstructed his view of Julie, even if it was barely more than a couple seconds.

“See you back out there?”

He wasn’t sure why he asked. Julie always left before him, giving him a few extra moments to wash his hands and get his head back into work mode before he had to slip behind the bar once more. This time though, she wasn’t rushing to leave. Instead, she bit her lip, forehead wrinkling slightly before she gave a soft shake of her head. The walls that had disappeared in the last few minutes were firmly back in place when she met his gaze.

“I have to get some work done on a project for school. I cut my library time short tonight to get here earlier.”

It wasn’t really a rejection, but it sure as hell felt like one. Luke tried not to let it show on his face, but he wasn’t sure he managed to pull it off. He felt his own fingers at the back of his neck again and wondered when they had gotten there.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s cool. I get it.”

He shrugged a bit, tried to get some bounce back in his step as he moved towards the door.

“Luke...?”

He turned at the sound of Julie’s voice, just barely managing not to lose it when her eyes flashed momentarily with that same fleeting look of vulnerable longing.

“Next open mic is Thursday, right?”

She was trying to get them back on script. Trying to get back to that place that felt more familiar, less intense. Luke couldn’t fault her for her. He was the one that kept trying to push them outside of the confines she had created. He sighed softly, stepping close so he could press a quick kiss against her forehead.

“Next open mic is Thursday. I’ll be here.”

Her lips curved just a bit, her smile small but no less brilliant.

“See you then, Rockstar.”

He left then. Had to force his feet to move before he fell to his knees and begged her for more. More time, more stolen moments, more commitment, more of everything that he so desperately wanted from her and no one else. Luke threw himself into filling orders behind the bar, so busy he didn’t see Julie make her way out. If Dante noticed the storm cloud that hovered above his head for the rest of the night, he didn’t mention it.

He promised himself that when he saw her again on Thursday, he would let it go. Loving her didn’t give him the right to demand more. In fact, if he really loved her, he would find a way to be content with what she offered. Because if there was one thing he knew for sure, it was that he wasn’t ready to give her up just yet. And he didn’t think she was ready to give him up yet, either. So, he would stay, and he would accept what he was given, because every new moment meant another memory for him to carry with him when this whole thing ended. And somehow, that would have to be enough.

[alj4890]

Angst Prompt

Dawn’s Early Light

(Part Three to One Fateful Night)

As requested by many of you.

(Liam x OC) in a one shot continuation of the angsty One Fateful Night.

A/N Here's some happiness to the angst so many sent messages about. I know it is still bittersweet in a way, with Riley being dead and all, but I think it gives our favorite prince a chance to find true love after all. On another note, I had at one time considered Liam meeting someone in Washington D.C. in another story where Riley died the night of the Homecoming Ball in Book 2. I guess this makes up for deleting it and never posting, LOL.

Part 2 The Dark Before the Dawn

 @kingliam2019 @texaskitten30 @yourmajesty09   @gkittylove99 @krsnlove   @mom2000aggie @twinkleallnight @lodberg @sweatyrysconnoisseur ​ @motorcitymademadame ​

Masterlist

Dawn’s Early Light

Somewhere in Maryland...

"Sir?"

Liam grimaced at the voice coming through loud and clear from his cell phone. The one time he convinced Bastien that he could travel on his own and the man still made certain to call every hour.

"Yes?" He huffed.

"Your current location?"

"That at the moment is a little difficult to pinpoint." Liam squinted through the pouring rain. "One of the roads was flooded and the numerous detours have sent me further east of D.C."

He could hear frantic mutterings in the background, papers shifting and clicks from computers.

"Pull over and we will try to locate you." Bastien ordered.

Liam looked about at the flour lane highway, barely able to see five feet ahead of him. "There isn't a spot to do so. I'll call once I find a safe place."

"Your majesty," he could hear the frustration in his Head of the King's Guards' voice, "this is why I insisted we fly down together."

"And I knew this was my last chance to take a road trip of sorts." Liam countered. "You worry too much, Bastien."

"And you don't worry enough." Bastien muttered. "If you haven't found a place within the next hour, I am coming to find you."

"Make sure to bring a rowboat." Liam teased. "That's probably the best way to travel here."

His jest was met with silence.

"Bastien?" Liam glanced down at his phone and saw the call had dropped. Tossing it back in the passenger seat, he continued on down the road.

*****************

Outside of Annapolis...

"No!" Autumn pleaded when her tire burst. "You've got to be kidding me!"

Pulling over onto the shoulder of the highway, she tried to call her parents.

"Gee, thanks for no bars." She grumbled, chucking her phone back into her purse.

Reaching for her coat she prepared herself mentally to change her own tire.

Why did Dad have to make it so boring? He knew I wouldn't pay attention!

It had been ten years since she had sat through that lesson, day dreaming of the cute guy who sat next to her in chemistry class.

And just like her lack of luck with Mr. Chemistry, she was about to fail miserably with her tire.

She pulled the flashlight and tools out her father insisted she keep in her vehicle at all times and stepped out into the rainstorm.

"Any creepy serial killers out there," she yelled towards the darkened woods that lined the highway, "now is NOT the time to mess with me!"

She paused in removing the jack from her trunk. "That goes for any wild animals unless you're the helpful kind from fairy tales."

She snorted at her own joke as she set reflectors along the road. "And if you know of any princes, do send them my way."

"Alright car, you and I have been through it." She patted it's side. "All the snow storms in Pennsylvania. New jobs. New apartments. Ex boyfriends." She knelt by the flat tire. "Let's get through this and I'll treat you to a tank of premium gas."

She removed the hubcap and blinked when a pair of bright headlights pulled up behind her.

"Didn't I specifically demand no serial killers?" She muttered to herself as she saw the silhouette of a man start walking her way.

"Pardon me?" A cultured voice called out. "Are you in need of any assistance?"

She lifted her hand to shield her eyes from the light. "I wouldn't say no to some help."

Her mystery person stopped a couple of feet away from her and studied her tire.

"Where's the jack?"

She handed it to him and watched as he expertly began to raise the back end up.

"Here's the tool kit." She handed it over, discreetly keeping a screwdriver in her hand in case he was a psycho.

"I hate to keep you out in the rain, but could you shine your flashlight here so I can remove the lug nuts?"

"Right. Of course." She dutifully lifted it where he directed.

"Perfect." He turned to smile at her. "Thank you."

She blinked at how handsome he was. "I, no problem. I should be thanking you."

"My pleasure." He looked around. "I don't suppose you know where we are, do you?"

Oh no. A hot psycho. Just my luck.

"Um, don't you know?" She took a cautious step back.

"I've never been in this part of America before." He explained, unaware of her trepidation. "I lost GPS about two hours ago."

"Oh." She relaxed and stepped closer. "We're about forty-five minutes from Annapolis.

"How far is that from D.C.?" He asked.

"About forty minutes or so depending on traffic." She tilted her head. "Let me guess. You're a politician or aide of some sort."

He chuckled. "Not really."

"You certainly don't sound like the men in Washington."

"Oh? And how do they sound?"

"Arrogant jerks. Every last one of them. Even the mailroom guys act like they rule the world." Her nose wrinkled.

"Ah." Her handsome stranger removed her flat tire and placed the spare on. "Not fond of men in power, I take it."

"Not really." She squatted next to him, hoping she would remember his actions in case she had another flat tire some time in the future. "I guess there's bound to be one man out there who actually wants to serve the people instead of having them serve him."

"I see." He glanced over at her. "I like to think there are honest rulers out there."

Her brow furrowed. "Rulers?" She studied his profile. "You're not American, are you?"

He shook his head. "No."

"Where are you from?" Her eyes narrowed in thought. "Your accent is hard to place."

"Cordonia" he grunted as he tightened the lug nuts. "Have you heard of it?"

"It sounds familiar." She muttered.

"It is a tiny but beautiful country in Europe." He explained.

"Isn’t every European nation?” She teased. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of of one that I would turn down a vacation to.”

He began to lower her car back down with the jack. "All done."

"I don't know how to thank you." She pushed her wet hair back, wondering how horrible she must look as she picked up the safety reflectors

"No need." He smiled warmly. "Have a good evening, my lady." With an instinctive bow, he turned and walked back to his own car.

"My lady?" Her lips quirked with humor. Perhaps the fairy tale animals had sent her a prince. "Hey! Wait!"

He paused with his car door open. "Yes?"

"There's an all night diner a few miles ahead." She took a deep breath. "Would you like to follow me there? We could dry off and I could buy you a piece of pie as a thank you."

Her hero's smile grew brighter. "I'd like that. Lead the way."

********************

"I'm Autumn." She held her hand out as they waited to be seated.

"A pleasure to meet you. My name is Liam." He took her hand and bowed over it.

"Is that how people greet one another in Cordonia?" She asked.

"It is the norm from where I grew up." He responded with a sheepish grin.

He shook her hand. "Is that better?"

"Your way was fine." She glanced down at their clasped hands. "I just feel a little under dressed for such a proper greeting."

"Nonsense." Liam continued to hold her hand. "A little water logged perhaps, but lovely nonetheless."

Her lips parted in surprise.

"Just the two of you?"

The pair turned toward a waitress.

"Yes." Autumn replied. "Just us."

"Follow me." She sat them at a table and handed over some menus. "What can I get you to drink?"

"Coffee, please." Autumn replied.

"I'll have the same." Liam added.

"Coming right up."

*********************

"Autumn?" Liam tested her name. "Were you given that name due to being born in the fall?"

She shook her head. "My parents have a warped sense of humor. I was born in April."

He laughed causing her to smile once more.

She thought his laughter had such a warm encompassing sound that made her want to hear it often as she could.

"They also wanted to have their kids' initials for Pennsylvania." She rolled her eyes. "My older brother, Patrick, took care of the P while I completed it with an A." Her own laughter bubbled out. "Then my unplanned younger brother was born and threw those initials out the door."

"What did they name him?" Liam asked.

"August, since he was born in January. Being that he was a surprise, they went with another A name to have an, aaahhh, moment at the end of P.A.."

Liam shook with his laughter over her parents. "They sound delightful."

"They sound that way," she teased, "but when you live with them..." Her smile softened. "They really are great parents and my brothers aren't too bad either."

"I have an older brother." He told her. "Leo and I were never as close as I wished we could have been. He spends so much time traveling and exploring the world that I don't have the heart to pressure him into coming home more often." A sadness came over him. "I've never seen him so happy as when he sends me pictures from his latest adventure."

"He's a wandering soul." She added.

"Precisely." Liam refocused on her. "And a wanderer withers and dies if tied down."

"What about your parents?" She asked.

"My mother died when I was very young and my father passed away about five years ago." He explained. "I'm close to my stepmother, Regina. She and Leo are all I have left for family."

"I'm sorry." Autumn mumbled. "I didn't mean to dredge up painful--"

Her breath caught when he laid his hand over hers. She thought she could actually feel herself getting lost in his blue eyes...which was something she teased her friends over every time they mentioned something like that. Yet here she was, finding herself falling for a man who changed her tire in the rain.

He gently squeezed her fingers. "Nothing to apologize for. I miss them but I am done grieving."

As their waitress brought them a fresh pot of coffee, Liam realized how true that statement was. He was done grieving for all of his lost loved ones.

******************

"Now then." Liam looked up from his menu. "Do you work in Washington?"

"I do." She replied. "Not in a political aspect though."

"What do you do?" He asked.

"I'm an archivist at the National Air and Space Museum."

His expression brightened with interest. "I've always wanted to visit the Smithsonian. To work and preserve the very fabric of your nation's history must be fascinating."

"It is!" She leaned forward as she became more animated about her work.

Deciding to prolong this conversation, the two ordered a meal before indulging in pie.

Liam listened, asking questions that only made her more excited in sharing this piece of her life.

It was rare for Autumn to find anyone interested in what she did.

"Right now, my team is working on digitizing everything we have on rocket tests during the 1950's." She explained. "Reading through the vast paperwork, various film and photographs, all audio recordings; I get to sift through every bit of it for our records."

"I once assisted an archivist at the palace library." Liam told her. "I discovered long ago manuscripts and journals in a hidden nook." His smile softened at the memory. "It was all by accident. My best friend and I were playing in one of the ballrooms when the soccer ball we were kicking around struck a piece of the baseboards, causing a hidden door to open."

Autumn's eyes widened. "It's a wonder you didn't get in trouble with the palace curators. They do not appreciate anyone playing around the exhibits."

Liam chuckled. "I was lucky the curators were fond of me."

"You knew them?" She asked. "Were they family members?"

"They aren't family, but I did know them." He replied, being deliberately mysterious about who he was.

He hadn't had a normal conversation in years. When she didn't recognize him, he felt a lightness he had felt on that long ago night in New York. He had forgotten how it was, how it made him feel. So often, people said the things they thought he wanted to hear. He missed the back and forth of sharing personal tidbits.

Autumn grimaced when she realized she had basically dominated the conversation for nearly an hour.

"Enough about my work," she smiled at him, "what do you do? Did you come here for business or to finally see the Smithsonian?"

He chuckled before taking a sip of his coffee. "As much as I would prefer spending my days wandering through museums, I am here to meet with government officials."

Her nose wrinkled. "I’m sorry. I do not envy you for that." Her eyebrow lifted. "What's the government like in Cordonia? Do you have a prime minister or something similar to our president?"

"We are a constitutional monarchy with the king as the Head of State." He explained.

"I see. Then you work in some capacity for him?" She continued. "You must to be here for meetings."

Liam lowered his eyes. "I suppose you could say that."

"So what's your job title?" She persisted. "Are you a member of the house of lords or whatever you have? Aide to the king?"

"I have a higher position than anything like that." He hedged. "Which is why I'm the only one to attend these meeting the next couple of weeks."

Her brow furrowed. "The king doesn't handle stuff like that?"

"He does which is why I'm here." He focused on her eyes. "The king is the only one to handle the approval for trade agreements and maintaining friendly relations with other countries."

"Then why isn’t he..." She burst into laughter. "You really had me going there for a moment." She shook her head at him. "Nice try, but no king travels alone on highways in a Nissan Altima."

"I do when I want to appear a regular man." He explained.

"Because isn't that royalty is all about?" She giggled some more. "Living life as a middle class man."

"I'm sincere." He argued. "I really am the King of Cordonia."

Her laughter died. "And just when I thought you weren't mentally unhinged." She sighed while picking at her piece of blueberry pie. "I knew you were too good to be true. No man can be both selfless and handsome without a few screws loose."

Liam's elation she found him attractive caught him by surprise. It wasn't that other women had not said similar to him at various functions. It was that he actually felt attracted to her too.

"I can prove I'm the king."

"How long have you believed you were king?" She asked. "Any chance you've thought you were someone else at one time? Napoleon Bonaparte? King Tut?"

He snorted on his laughter. "I've been king for over six years now. The rest of my life was spent as a prince."

"Uh huh." She poured them each another cup of coffee. "Guess that explains why you weren't banned from the palace for playing soccer."

"It is my home." He pointed out.

"Sure it is." She patted his hand. "And I'm sure you're the best king out there who knows how to change a tire."

"I only know because my best friend taught me." Liam explained. "He was one of the few people in my life who did not allow me to become a spoiled prince."

"Right." She smiled at him. "It's been great and all." She reached into her purse for her wallet. "And I do thank you so much for your help with the flat tire, but I should go."

"You don't believe me?" He asked.

"I believe you believe it." She said cautiously.

Liam quickly pulled his phone out and handed it to her. "Look up Cordonia."

"Just because you think you're a king doesn't mean you can order me around." Her eyes narrowed in warning. "Besides, I wouldn't use your phone. You'd probably have me looking at some doctored photos of yourself."

"Forgive me I didn’t mean to make it sound like a command." Liam ran a hand through his hair. "I've never met anyone who didn't believe I am who I say."

"First time for e everything, huh?" She hesitated when she saw his disappointment. "Fine." She searched for her phone. "I'll play along if you find our waitress. I'm going to need more pie as I research you."

He grinned while doing as she asked.

Autumn wandered of it was because it was the middle of the night that made her sit here with some guy claiming to be--

"No!" Her eyes darted from the images of King Liam of Cordonia to the Liam sitting at her table. "You're really a king?!"

"Would you care for another slice of blueberry or a different type of pie?" He asked with a bright smile.

"Blueberry." Her jaw was still dropped.

"Another slice of blueberry please for the lady and I'll have a slice of apple."

"Why on earth are you traveling lone highways in Maryland?" She asked when their waitress left.

"I flew in to New York for a few meetings with U.N. representatives. Our representative is new to her job and I wanted to encourage her." He explained. "Then I suppose I caught a bit of wanderlust from my brother and wanted to drive down to D.C." He took a bite of his new slice of pie. "It's rare I am able to convince my security team to let me out of their sight, but there are times when I like to be alone with my thoughts."

"I guess you have a lot of people demanding your time." She conceded.

"I do, which is why I make time for the people and activities that are important to me." He looked up at her. "Experience has taught me how fleeting time can be and we should make the most of every moment we are given."

"I like that." She cut into her slice with her fork while scrolling through images of Cordonia. "A lot of people get so easily wrapped up in their work and don't realize that they are missing out on so much more."

"Are you one of those people?"

Autumn paused chewing to consider his question. "Sometimes. I can get so wrapped up in a project and shut out the world going on around me." She shrugged. "Then something happens to shake me back to reality."

Liam grinned when it hit him that his being confirmed king had not changed the way she spoke to him.

As if reading his thoughts, her fork clattered on her plate. "I can't believe you really are a king." Her head tilted as she studied him. "You really don't act like how I imagine one would."

Liam folded his arms on the table and leaned forward. His bright blue eyes held her gray ones. "How should I act?"

She snorted. "For one thing you wouldn't have stood out in the pouring rain to change a tire."

"Aren't fairy tales filled with princes rescuing damsel in distress?" He countered.

She rolled her eyes playfully. "It isn't like you slayed a dragon."

"According to your imagination, what should I have done in that situation?" He countered, delighted with her not putting him on a pedestal.

"First off, if you were on a," she made quotation marks with her fingers, "road trip, you'd probably be in a limo since your private jet is tucked away in a hangar somewhere."

"But then I would have a driver and thus not able to be alone." He reminded her.

"True." She propped her chin on her hand and smiled. "We'll forget the car then since you are chivalrous and in need of a break." She gestured with her free hand around the diner. "A king wouldn't come her, happily order food, nor be willing to sit here for hours listening to some girl talk about museums."

"Why not?" Liam asked. "He could have been hungry since he had been lost for a while."

"I guess that's a reasonable possibility." Autumn muttered.

"And if he wanted to know more about the damsel he rescued, then shouldn't he be at least willing to remain here with her?"

"Maybe." She forced herself to look away from him. "Then again, maybe this is a night for things out to the ordinary to happen." She asked their waitress for their check.

Autumn shushed his arguments, insisting on paying for his meal.

At that moment, Bastien and some guards walked in.

Liam's eyes widened. "Bastien? How did you find me?"

"We have a tracker on your phone, your majesty." He explained. "We really need to get you to Washington. You have an early morning of..."

Liam tuned him out and focused once more on the lady he had met tonight.

"It's my fault." Autumn spoke up. "I wanted to thank Liam with some pie for his help earlier."

She stood up and held her hand out. “Thank you again for helping me.”

Liam pressed a soft kiss to her knuckles. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Autumn."

"I..." She could feel her entire body blush with that simple touch. "I'm happy to have met you too, Liam." She grimaced. "I mean, your majesty. Should I curtsy?"

He chuckled. "Just Liam with no curtsey is fine."

"Liam no curtsey." She winked at him. "Nice name for a king." Nodding farewell toward his guards, she slipped out of the restaurant.

Liam watched her drive off from one of the windows.

He wondered if he had just met the one.

[revchainsaw]

Stargate (1994)

Welcome to the Cult Film Tent Revival my freaky fanatics, prepare yourselves to take the sacrament from across the stars, as we engage in the miraculous works of one of our most beloved Cult Saints, Saint Kurt. Coming to us from the golden age of Sci-fi Adventures, when Hollywood would dump the big bucks into a film so out of this world, we are partaking this evening of 1994's Stargate!

The Message

Every child has an Egypt phase. I remember fondly flipping through my DK Eyewitness guide to ancient Egypt with my Anubis warrior action figure from the movie stargate propped up on my desk. This wasn't even school work, Egypt inspired this young freak to learn outside of the classroom, and Stargate inspired me to look to Egypt in the first place. My father was a military man, as mentioned before, and this film irked him to some degree. He hated that the film was slightly critical of firearms, but mostly he hated that it depicted the high security military installation where he worked unrealistically. You know the high security military installation in the side of Cheyenne Mountain. yeah, that one. I don't know why my father expected a bunch of nerds from Hollywood with not security clearance to have any idea what it looked like in that hyper-secure location, but he did. I suspect after they lost him on the guns he was looking for any reason to hate Stargate, and so, impressionable as I was, I thought for years that this movie was really stupid.

Thank the Gods of Cult that I had the inspiration to give this film a second chance. I have to say, it's a little stupid, but it's not REALLY stupid. Also, Disney's Atlantis is totally just animated Stargate, and that's pretty fucked up.

Stargate is the story of how a big old nerd, whos name is NOT Milo, played by James Spader was enlisted by a bunch of military bad guy types to use his crackpot pseudoscience egyptology crap to decipher a bunch of writings that every other scientist or academic was wrong about. When he does this he succesfully creates a Stargate, a bridge between our world and another.

Our other hero is Sergeant Kurt Russell. Russell is sitting around trying to take two and not call his doctor in the morning, just generally being sad about guns because his son accidentally shot himself. Like father like son I guess. Sorry if that sounds cruel, it's just so desperately reaching for pathos and drama that it kind of enters into the realm of parody parody. I may have been raised by gun nuts, but I am very pro depicting guns as dangerous. Stargate is about as subtle as a pie in the face, or a bullet in the face. Ok, I'm done. Anyway, the military has one more mission for Kurt and he decides for some reason that means that guns are good again for killing bad guys, except for later when he decides that guns are bad again.

So Disney's Atlantis and Guile from Street Fighter enter the Stargate and discover a world where illiterate humans are kept in subjugation by a ruling class of aliens who use them to mine precious minerals and demand to be worshipped as Gods. The leader of these aliens is an immortal alien being who has possessed the body of a teen boy pop sensation and goes by the name of Ra.

James Spader is gifted a wife by the locals because it's so quirky that women are property, i guess, but it's okay because they happen to be in love, and with her help he is able to learn the truth behind this worlds condition. Ra had built the Stargate to travel between worlds and was worshipped in Ancient Egypt, however the people got wise to his BS and he had to escape. He took many humans hostage and crossed the stargate and then banned reading and writing as an attempt to quell any kind of uprising, and it's worked for a long time.

Ra is pissed at the earth boys though because he knows a nuclear weapon when he sees one. Turns out Kurt Russell brought a big ol bomb with him across the stargate as a contingency plan for any aggro aliens they may have found. Hey, they found them so I guess it wasn't too bad of an idea. Ra punishes his worshippers by having them mercilessly bombed and Spader and Russell team up with the locals to revolt. They eventually gain the upper hand and Ra attempts to flee with his Pyramid space ship but our heroes teleport the nuke onto his ship and save the day. Thus launching several Sci-Fi television series that I have never watched.

The Benediction

Best Scene: Ra Footage

The Throne Room Scene where we are first introduced to Ra and his godlike warriors is pretty excellent. It's so menacing how he surrounds himself with a force field of children, and the combination of futuristic technology with an ancient Egyptian aesthetic that this film sells itself on is on it's ultimate display in this scene. I really like the villains in this movie and I savor whenever they get to be shown off.

Best effect: Mastadge Ride

The CG on Stargate is better than in Species which sought to be it's competitor a year later, but it is still dated. It's utilized in cool enough ways and sparingly enough that even though it looks cartoony at moments it is very easy to forgive. Being Easy to forgive however, would be a pretty lackluster qualification for best effect and I'm going to have to turn this honor to the practical creature effects for the Mastadge. When we are first introduced to our alien world one the first things we see is the fuzzy maw of one of these creatures, before it takes James Spader for a very harrowing trip across the desert. These alien beasts of burden do sometimes reveal that they are mounted upon horses, but in close ups they just look so good. I love them and I want one.

Worst Scene: It's just sad OK!

Kurt Russell becomes very popular with the young men from the village of Ra's worshippers. They come to see him as some kind of hero and seek to emulate him. However, these people are very peaceful and not in any way battle hardened. A group of the young men stand up to the leaders and seek to aid the Earthlings in their revolution. They are brave but in many ways out classed by Ra's elite guards. Through the sheer force of numbers they do succeed in casting off the shackles of their oppressors but not before one of the young men we've come to care about is tragically blasted all to shit in slow mo. That scene made me cry a ton when I was a kid, and I dreaded waiting for it as an adult. It is worth noting that if you aren't 5 years old a lot of the drama in Stargate is pretty hamfisted and corny. It's a pretty excellent action movie, and a pretty goofy drama.

Coolest looking Villain: Animals as Leaders

I used to think that Ra was really stupid looking, but I was a kid and was biased towards cool warriors with animal heads, but I really have a much better appreciation for the effects and costume design of all of the godly villain crew than I used to. That said, The Anubis guy in particular still holds up. It's the dope Jackal head, the teal of the armor. It's what I picture when I picture Stargate. The Horus guys are also worth a mention with their awesome hawk jets. I couldn't pick a "Best" villain, so I went with the Coolest Looking.

Worst Aspect: Lacking Character

When I have fond thoughts of Stargate, they almost never revolve around the characters, or if they do it's in a juvenile manner. Who had cool armor, who had cool weapons, or who did the coolest thing? I have a hard time caring about these meandering people. They are inconsistent. They have no flaws that they work on or grow from. They are special because the script insists that it's so, and I don't really care if they succeed or fail at any point in the film. It's a shame because we have a good set up, and good lore. If at any point any body acted like a real person I think Stargate would be better remembered as a film than as the weird older sibling of a long running television series.

Summary

I'd like to say that Stargate succeeds at everything it's trying to do, but it doesn't. Stargate fails in the tragedy and pathos it attempts to create within it's characters; but it does succeed in almost every other way. Stargate is an engaging and exciting action movie. Stargate delivers on it's science fiction concept, and provides some fun fantasy lore to round out it's world building. Stargate is also a great looking (at most times) special effects spectacle. For all of those reasons, It is not a great film, but it is pretty darn good film.

Overall Grade: B

[shiberpostshere]

The Kiss Thief - Park Seonghwa Social Media AU

20. Chapter Sixteen: Happy Realisation✨ (Meant as a sarcastic remark to the Reader, wishing her Happy Realisation like Happy Birthday)

Previous Part✨      Next Part✨

Masterlist of the AU✨

Word Count: 2.2K (😳)

🌸

The Special Weekly Segment, Weekly Flower Delivery had thoroughly infiltrated your mind with admiration of love and swooning until you remembered that you decided to justify your feelings about Seonghwa, with Seonghwa by talking to Seonghwa.

Oh, Park Seonghwa.

What are you going to say? For starters, you had few options you considered:

1) 'Hey! Crazy story. Remember when I liked you in high school but I think it was childish, so I'd like to know what are your present thoughts about it?'

Fairly normal but quite formal.

2) 'Hello there kind sir. Would you like discussing our past embarassing affairs, mostly the mortifying felony committed by me over a glass of liquor?'

It feels like you're asking for great lord's hand in marriage, one who owns expansive estates in the 1740s.

3) 'Hey, Seonghwa, so you know how we've been spending some time together and I have been thinking about us, together, as in a dating, you know what I mean?'

'You know what I mean?' What are you about to do? Transcend into a rap battle?

At the end, you considered it's best to say what feels appropriate at the given situation.

Hopefully, it's appropriate.

The Dazzling Night group is buzzing excitement of accomplishment after the special segment.

The atmosphere shifting from a rather intimate confession to a declaration of never fading love has successfully set a mood for the team to celebrate the well executed show with chicken and beer by the riverside at midnight.

Yeosang and Mingi leave before the rest and decide to get the food on the way to arrange a seating area for comfortable dinner.

The remaining ride in Seonghwa's car after he frantically arrived at the studio looking fresh and clean.

After a short ten minute ride, you breathe in the gusts of winds, carrying a gentle scent of the river.

The location is a little crowded for the night but might disperse as the clock ticks by.

It isn't difficult to spot the waving figures of Yeosang and Mingi in a quiet corner, keeping a safe distance from other groups for private, mostly chaotic conversations of the group.

Jongho collapses on the mattress within a second of spotting it.

"This is the life of a successful segment planner." He states with a deep inhale.

"Okay bragger, save this for later. I'm hungry." Mingi pushes the boy out of the mattress, rolling him onto the grass but Jongho has no plans of sitting straight.

Yeosang twists open a bottle with fizzle. "We need to make a toast."

The rest of you begin arranging your dinner in front of the widespread, breathtaking view of the river and the brightly lit bridge.

Seonghwa and you begin unpacking the boxes of variety of chicken while Hongjoong pours out drinks for everyone.

"A toast? Why? Are we already done with Dazzling Night for this semester?" Hongjoong comments without looking up.

Yeosang gives him a look. "C'mon, read the mood." He falls back beside Mingi. "Seonghwa loves giving speeches anyway. We love a sentimental mood setter."

You nudge the mentioned boy. "Oh? Then I'm looking forward to it too!"

He plops down and rolls his eyes. "For once can you guys stop ganging up on me?"

Your best friend props up his body lazily, supporting his weight on his arms. "Make a toast, make a toast, make a toast."

You snicker and shake your head at the lack of enthusiasm. "Wow, you surely want him to make a toast."

Hongjoong offers you a small cup of beer. "Okay then, would you like to make a toast instead?"

Taken aback, you study the amount of twinkling eyes settled on you. "Oh, hell no." You thrust the cup at the suggested person.

Seonghwa looks at you with dramatic betrayal written all over his features. "My knight in--" His eyes study your frame, "My knight in jeans and flannel, I thought you'd surely save me."

The entire group bursts out in laughter.

Placing a hand on your hip, you gulp down the contents of the small cup. "Why did the ganging up shift from him" You jab a thumb at innocent looking Seonghwa, "To me?"

Jongho simply shrugs. There's an evident satisfaction displayed in his slackened movements.

You feel comfortable as well.

You're used to, no, you are loving the playful bantering but god forbid, you'll never admit this out loud, especially in front of the teasing devil himself.

"Alright, alright" Seonghwa refills your empty cup and lifts up his big one. "Here's a toast to not even a week into Dazzling Night yet to the most talented group of people making everyone's night, especially each other's by working together and supporting each other. How's that for a sentimental toast?"

All of you raise your plastic cups in unison with a gentle 'cheers' and down the booze in one shot.

Mingi wipes his non existent tears. "Fantastic. I'd like to thank my mother, my father and mostly importantly the baby account I followed on instagram two weeks ago which gives me joy---"

He is unable to finish his speech of 'gratitude' as Yeosang shoves him away with a quick push, making the tall boy almost land sideways on top of sauce pouches.

🌸

Throughout dinner, you simply cannot stop smiling or almost rolling over the grass.

It is truly a wild dinner.

One moment Hongjoong slaps away Yeosang's hand from stealing his well deserved chicken wing and another Jongho suddenly belts out a song to honour the evening, earning loud claps from the people seated nearby.

The conversations begin with Seonghwa and Hongjoong reminiscing their first meeting together, makes it's way through the emotional valley but eventually returns to the clowning station.

Time passes by quickly as you munch over different kinds of delicious chickens melting on your tongue with new flavours everytime you grab one from a different box.

Yeosang takes all the credit for the ten out of ten dinner and all the guys agree with the chicken maniac, as addressed by his friends.

As the night gets darker, people start disappearing slowly and you begin to notice the questionable amount of empty beer bottles lying around.

"I think I'm drunk." Hongjoong presses his temple with a wince.

Yeosang grabs the elder's arm and leans into his shoulder with a pout. "Yeosang wants to eat more chicken."

Jongho breaks into a fit of coughs while Mingi throws back his head, booming with laughter.

"Did he just refer to himself in third person?" Eyes wide, you turn to Seonghwa for an answer.

"Yeosang transforms into a cute little kid when he's drunk, he has a low alcohol tolerance." His cheeks are slightly tinted with the pink colour. You don't know if you should be trusting his tolerance either.

"Oh my god, I should totally make a video." Mingi pulls out his phone but Jongho is quick enough to snatch it.

"You don't want to see tomorrow's sunrise?"

Out of everyone, maybe even you, Jongho appears the most sober, as if he hasn't drank at all.

Hongjoong's hand gently pats the drunk one's back. "C'mon, it's getting late, let's go to the restroom and sober up so we can leave."

Jongho leaves his place with a sigh. "I'm going with those three, I think they need some supervision."

Seonghwa places down his refilled cup. "Good idea. I'll stay back with (y/n) and clean up."

You nod. It is indeed getting late.

The three drunk ones trudge towards the washrooms with a normal walking Jongho following behind.

"Let's clean this up, shall we?" You eye the mess scattered around.

As you try to lift your body with much difficulty, a hand wraps around your wrist and pulls you down causing you to yelp.

"But you wanted to talk." You breath hitches for a moment as he turns sideways to place his forehead on your shoulder.

Oh, how you had hoped for him to magically forget about it.

You lift up his head with the support of one finger. "Are you sure you aren't drunk?"

His hands pat his cheeks a few times. "Definitely not drunk." He inches a little closer. "So, tell me."

A chuckle leaves your lips at his attempts to appear sober. "Oh, well, I don't know how to bring this up and I'd rather talk if you will remember this tomorrow as much as I want you to forget."

His shoulders slump. "Oh, (Y/N), is this about our cute little history that you find embarassing."

"What? How did you know that? Wait, who told you---" You blabber out surprised and to deepen the surprise he places a finger on your lips.

"Hey, hey, calm down." His eyes land on the finger and he quickly retrieves it. He clears his throat. "I mean, it is a little obvious. I think it is obvious to everyone but you."

Your cheeks heat up a little at his statement. "Obvious? Okay, since it is that obvious. Yes, yes I am a little embarassed, maybe more than a little embarassed."

Seonghwa tilts his head to the side, an intense look in his eyes. "That's not what I meant (Y/N) but tell me what are you embarassed about?"

Gathering your legs closer to your chest, you place your chin in between the knees. "Well, you know" You let your words trail but draw in a deep breath. "I was fifteen and what happened was silly and ever since we started hanging out together, I feel really comfortable with you and you're really nice. Oh my god, I'm getting nowhere with this." Your feet begin moving in a continous motion.

Seonghwa fixes his posture and sits up straight. "(Y/N)?"

"Yeah?" You look up.

"I liked fifteen year old you. A girl who liked me, often encouraged me even though she didn't understand 11th grade struggles but it's not something that I look back at and make fun of but it's a fond memory that there was a cute girl who liked me back when I was young and too tense for a 17 year old boy." His precise answer tugs a string of your heart.

"Yeah, you were too tense for a 17 year old boy. Remember how you often lectured me like you understand all concepts of the world at such an young age." You comment with an playful smile.

A picture of a young Seonghwa passionately explaining time management like a professor pops up in your mind with a young you listening as if he's reciting a romantic poem. Oh, how smitten you were.

Funnily enough, you still are.

Seonghwa pushes his fingers through his hair with a shy smile, eyes focused on the night sky. "Oh my god. I can't believe you remember that."

You bump your shoulder with his. "How can I forget, you were adorable."

A stange energy is brewing within you. This comfort is unmatched.

He turns to you, fingers suddenly grab your cheeks. "Don't get cheeky with me now." He says in an extremely soft voice.

"Hey, this is not fair. What are you doing?" You get a hold on both of his hand to remove them but fail.

He pulls them a little before letting them go, you rub the sore spots. "You're as much as a troublemaker as you were back then, you just hide it now. Don't you?"

Maybe it's the courage supplied by the little alcohol in your system or maybe it's just him, you grab his face with your hands.

His eyes widen at your actions. "What are you doing?"

You gently bump your forehead onto his. "I'm trying to be bold and knocking some sense into you."

The shocked expression subdues into a serious one. One you hadn't expected to see. "I wouldn't suggest that. What if I really end up forgetting what you're about to do next?"

As soon as he speaks those words, you let go of his face and create a safe distance between you two. "What do you mean? I wasn't going to do anything but bump my forehead with yours! What are you thinking!"

He begins stuffing the empty chicken boxes into each other pretending as if you weren't just inches apart a second ago.

"What if I end up bumping my forehead even harder than you did?" He asks with the most false concern present on his face.

You grab the nearest bottle cap and aim it right at his forehead but he's too quick to catch it. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry."

"YOU stop being cheeky, can't you tell I was trying to flirt with you!" You let both of your hands rest on your hips.

His mouth forms an "O". "I mean, I should definitely do that, I have the right to. It's not like you know that I've been flirting with you all this time."

You freeze for a moment, eyes blinking twice. "You've been flirting with me?"

He throws up his hands in an exasperated gesture.

"Wait, you've been flirting with me? You weren't just having fun making me suffer by being extremely kind and nice yet teasing and--" The long list of conversations run in your mind and then it pings. "Oh."

Seonghwa begins clapping. "Thank you so much for finally noticing."

Your fall down on the support of your knees.

"Oh my god, Park Seonghwa has been flirting with me all this time"

You realise you've said it out loud and wish to sink further into your hands.

"Yes, I have been." His fingers gently ruffle your hair. "Now, clean this up before Jongho comes back and grumbles about it."

You slowly lift up your head and look at him casually collecting the mess, unphased.

"You're not going to let this one die. Are you?" Hesitant, you await an answer.

He chuckles. "Of course not."

"Fantastic." You stand up, unable to shake off the realisation.

🌸

Pairing: College Student! Seonghwa x College Student! Female Reader

Genre: Fluff, A teeny tiny bit of smut with a pinch of angst

Synopsis: High school crushes are often silly and forgotten. However, you cannot forget the one senior, you "borrowed" once a kiss from. Years have passed and it's a memory you laugh at but what will happen if you're to encounter the same senior in a much different setting and situation? Especially during your first year of college.

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A/N: This user is about to lose her sanity because Tumblr does not save her drafts and likes messing with her already remaining braincells. (I edited this once, I'll edit it again tomorrow)

BUT! THOUGHTS? what do we think after reading this chapter?

After writing this I low-key wanna start a written fic he-he.

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! 💫

🌸Tags:

@enigmaticsal @stardusthyuck @preets-kpop-world @missiopk @rae-woo @sanisms @retrofuture-ism @jiyeons-closet @hongjoongsnoona @seong-hwa1998 @veeeenus4 @mochibabycakes @vhschs @kokoboxp @choisaniskillingme @vantclavs @f-iyan @staywritten @cobbiebaexqueen @uppiespuppy @mingiflower

🌸Unable to tag: @mingiibabieee @dreamie-deonghwa

🌸

Do not repost, modify or claim the writing or images.

[el-michoacano]

"Do you still love me?" Had he been human, Nikolai's eyes would have been brimming with tears. He had long since learned, though, that vampires could not cry. "Do you still love me, despite my being a monster?"

A historical vampire AU revolving around Nikolai, Aleksander, and Zoya. Ranges from 1799 to the present. Be aware of the tags, and all the horrors that come with such an AU.

.

London, 1799

"I'd like to watch the sunset with you."

It was a ridiculously romantic notion, but Nikolai smiled all the same. "We've only just gotten engaged, my dear." There was laughter in his voice, barely audible over the music of the gilded orchestra occupying the farthest corner of the ballroom. "It's hardly proper for us to be alone together."

Zoya gave him a sharp look. They had only known each other for a few weeks, but he had grown fond of that look. "A warning, Baron Lantsov," she said, pulling him by the hand out into the corridor, the sound of music and chattering and laughter fading as the massive doors closed behind them. "I may be a woman, but I'm not much of a lady."

"So I've heard." Nikolai lifted Zoya's hand to his mouth, pressing a gentle kiss to her knuckles. The silk of her glove was warm against his lips. He desperately wished it was her skin and not fabric, but he didn't dare say so, though he knew she would appreciate boldness. When he pulled back, he offered her his arm. "Shall we?"

Zoya accepted, of course, but their move to the stairwell was stopped when another couple stepped around the corner, beautiful and shining, and Nikolai spared a glance down at Zoya when her grip on his arm tightened.

"Do you know them?" he asked as the new couple stepped closer, the man's eyes on Zoya, cold and hungry. Nikolai felt a familiar protective urge come over him. Zoya could handle herself, he was sure, but she was his. He would always save her, even if only from another man and his wandering eyes. "Who are they?"

Zoya didn't answer, her attention on the new arrivals, and as they finally came face-to-face, she gritted out a chilly, "Duke Morozova."

The Duke gave her an appraising look, lingering far too long. "Have you forgotten my name, Zoya?" His voice was rough with cannon smoke, his voice accented not with any English inflection, but something more Eastern. He was as foreign as Nikolai was.

"Aleksander," Zoya said, coldly polite, "this is my fiancé, Baron Nikolai Lantsov. Nikolai, this is Duke Aleksander Morozova."

Though Nikolai held out his hand for a shake, he was ignored, Aleksander instead taking Zoya's hand in his, saying, "Dance with me." When she pulled away, holding onto Nikolai's arm with both hands, Aleksander tipped his head to one side, asking, "You aren't still cross with me, are you?"

"You chose her--" Zoya jerked her chin toward the woman on Aleksander's arm-- "over me. Of course I am." She shot a glare at Aleksander's companion. She was his wife, Nikolai realized when he spotted the ring on her finger. To both of them, Zoya said, her voice colder than Nikolai had ever heard it, "Enjoy the party."

As Nikolai let Zoya lead him away down the hall, though her eyes stayed on Aleksander over her shoulder, he asked, "Who were those two?"

"Just an old flame and his puppet." Zoya sighed, resting her temple against the curve of Nikolai's bicep. As tiny as she was, she had no hope of reaching his shoulder. "I don't know how they would even know about this party. No one would dream of inviting them. They're not--"

"I'm sorry our being here has upset you."

Though Nikolai turned toward the source of the voice, Zoya sighed, letting her eyes slip closed.

"My husband is... Tactless." She looked almost ashamed of him, Nikolai thought. Perhaps he really had only married her for her money. He hoped he would be a better match for Zoya than Aleksander was for the Duke's adopted daughter. "And if he catches wind of a party nearby, he considers himself obligated to attend. A Duke has obligations."

Though her nails pressed into Nikolai's arm through her gloves and his suit sleeve, Zoya turned and said, sounding sincere, "You don't need to apologize for him."

The Duchess gave a gracious nod, then looked to Nikolai. "Would you give us the room, please?"

"We were just going to get some air, actually," Zoya said, giving Nikolai's arm a squeeze before she released him. She was tense, he could tell, unwilling to go, but shoving her discomfort aside in favor of politeness. He could tell how much it pained her. "Would you like to see the sunset with me? There's a lovely view from the portico."

As she stepped away, Nikolai touched her hand for just the barest second, softly saying, "Go easy on her."

Zoya gave him a sneer for that, replying, "Do I ever go easy on anyone?"

Shaking his head and smiling as Zoya and the Countess vanished arm-in-arm around the corner, Nikolai was soon accosted by the Duke, who wasted no time in asking, "And what makes you think you're good enough for her?"

Nikolai's breath stuck in his throat for a moment, a little lump of nervousness growing until he swallowed it down. He knew a challenge when he heard one. "It doesn't matter if I think I'm good enough, nor what you think," he said. "It was arranged, and not by me."

Aleksander huffed at that. Nikolai wasn't surprised by it. "Are you implying that Sabina Nazyalensky believes some privateer from parts unknown is good enough to marry her only daughter?" Aleksander flashed his teeth. "Don't think I failed to notice that accent. Russian, I suppose?"

"Just so." Nikolai met the Duke's eyes in a challenge of his own, hazel on gray. Aleksander's eyes, he noted, were the color of London smog. Unusual. "And I'm no privateer."

"Are you not?" Though Aleksander was a fair bit shorter than Nikolai, there was something thoroughly intimidating about him. It was something to do with the stoic way he held himself. Had he been a soldier? "From what I've heard--"

The Duke's voice was cut off by a woman's scream. Nikolai didn't recognize the voice, but he did recognize its owner when she stumbled into the room, clutching at her stomach and covered in blood and deep, wet gashes, up and down her arms, her neck, her stomach, crimson soaking into the fine gold silk of her gown.

"Alina!" Aleksander was at his wife's side in an instant.

Nikolai followed, but when he moved to pass them, Alina threw her slashed arm out in front of him, saying, soft and desperate, "Don't." When Nikolai opened his mouth to argue, she said, "You don't want to see this."

He was quick to shrug her off and move around the corner-- And instantly regretted it.

The stairway leading up to the portico was drenched in blood, and from this angle, he could see a single hand elegantly draped over a stair, attached to nothing.

Zoya's engagement ring glittered against a torn silk glove.

They were to be married in the spring.

Spring, Nikolai thought, would never come again.

[kalee60]

@larkboyd Larissa! I'm sorry you're having a really crappy, awful day! I get you, I honestly do, the last few weeks have been really... Well... trying is probably a polite way of putting it.

So therefore in response to your cry for a distraction and a little care and love - I present you with this little one-shot - I quickly threw it together in the last hour so apologies for any mistakes.

I hope your day gets better and that when you get home tonight you can relax, put your feet up and remember that even though we are all on opposite sides of the world @darter-blue @iamsherlockedondoctorwho and me (plus so many more) are always there for you 😘

Enjoy this Merthur fic made just for you!

*~*~*~*~*~*

Merlin sighed heavily as he hung his coat over the back of his chair, seeing that he was the only one in the lab's office once again. Frustration didn't even begin to cover it, especially when his phone started to ring almost immediately. 

Eyeing the most hated piece of technology on his desk critically, Merlin tried to work out telepathically if he could figure out who was calling.

A rap on the partition window between his office and the next made him jump. Gaius was staring directly at him, giving him the Eyebrow of Contempt, a phone to his ear and pointing towards Merlin's, which hadn't ceased it's relentless mating call.

"Welcome to Camelot Labs, this is -"

"- Merlin you fool, it's me."

Merlin looked up to see Gaius run a hand over his face tightly, oh right. Maybe he shouldn't have gone out the evening before.

"Were you at the tavern again last night, are you still drunk?"

Looking heavenward, Merlin finally sat down, booting his computer up and wedging the phone between his ear and shoulder.

"It's called a pub, Gaius, and what do you need, I'm extremely busy." He proceeded to place each of his three coloured pens (blue, black and red) neatly next to his blank notepad, adjusted his takeaway coffee so the pattern on the cup faced him, then picked up the red pen and wrote his name with a flourish on top of the page. The heart over the I, probably the best one he'd ever drawn.

"You're on your own today."

"What?" Merlin yelled, dropping the phone to glare at his boss who just shrugged in return, the Eyebrow suddenly looking a little more friendly in the presence of Merlin's plight. He picked up the god awful device to exclaim hotly, "You can't do that to me! I can't hold the fort down by myself, take all these calls, I'm not a wizard that can magically conjure a second Merlin."

Gaius did not look impressed at his sarcasm, Merlin grumbled some more and took a long pull off his coffee. It ceased to satisfy.

"I'm trying to get one of the boys from marketing down here to help."

"Oh no, no you don't. This is why you're calling me through the window? Isn't it? You're too scared to stand before me and tell me - I'm telling you, you can't send me one of those lunk-heads, those clotpoles who wouldn't know their arse from their -"

"- their what Merlin?"

"Gaius no!" But Merlin was speaking to nothing, Gaius had hung up and was suddenly nowhere to be seen. Gritting his teeth, Merlin spun around to watch Arthur fucking Pendragon walk over and put his bag down at the desk… the desk right. Next. To. Merlin.

He wasn't having it. Arthur was the biggest douche to walk the hallways of Camelot, always pushing Merlin's buttons in meetings, and generally acting like a Prince holding court. It didn't help that his father Uther ran the company.

"And what brings you down to the bowels of the Camelot Labs?" Merlin snarked, then opened up his emails only to see a hundred new ones. Oh god, his day was over and it hasn't even begun.

"Gaius said you needed help, so here I am. I can go if you like."

Merlin gave Arthur the side eye, "can you read reporting figures to let departments know their results?"

Arthur nodded and sat his coffee cup down, seeing that it was from the same place Merlin bought his. Huh, maybe his taste wasn't that awful.

"Can you use the online filing system for collections and batch records?"

The nod came again, while Merlin watched Arthur place two pens either side of his notepad. Rookie. He wouldn't be lending his red pen out, even if Arthur begged. And that was not an image Merlin needed to see in his mind. Arthur on his knees, walking towards him… begging and naked.

"Fuck," Merlin exclaimed, noting how Arthur raised a brow sardonically at him. "Can you use a phone?"

"Can I use a… really? Look, just tell me what you need me to do and I'll do it. And don't be a dick about it."

Scowling, Merlin quickly showed Arthur the phone, the programs and what he needed done. He ignored the crisp, woodsy scent that clung to Arthur's skin as he leant over him, and he most definitely ignored when Arthur's arm brushed against his then left it pressed there, for almost a minute. Not that Merlin was counting.

Yes, Arthur was helping, and it was much better than being there alone, but Merlin, although very vocally did not like Arthur, had always found him unfairly attractive. And that set him on edge, made him feel itchy under his skin, knowing that Arthur, who was basically royalty on the London scene wouldn't even look twice at someone like him. So it was much easier to be an arse.

Four hours into their forced working conditions, Merlin had to admit that Arthur was actually more of a help than a hindrance. And it grated his nerves.

"Maybe next time, you should write the batch into the system before you give out the results."

Arthur's brows were in his hairline as he turned to face Merlin, and he felt a flush rise up his cheeks, it honestly didn't matter the order you did it in, but he had to say something.

"You really don't like me do you?"

The retort died on his tongue when he realised Arthur was serious.

"Err, well, it's not exactly that, I actually think you're -" his phone rang, thankfully halting anything else he might blurt out unintended. 

A few minutes later he was off the phone and typing again, lost in calculations and figures when he heard the chair next to him roll over the floor, and it didn't stop.

Startled he looked up into bright blue eyes, eyes that were only a few inches away.

"You were saying?"

Merlin's cheeks filled once more and he couldn't help the small gulp, audible in the quiet lab. Oh god.

"I was saying that I think you're a complete arse, " Arthur's eyes narrowed at his words, "but if you had a red pen, and stopped taking mine, I'd actually admit you've been a huge help today."

Arthur's face transformed into a grin and Merlin couldn't help mirror it, having never been on the receiving end of it before, or had he, and he'd just blocked it out? But Arthur was still too close, within touching distance and as if realising it for the first time as well, Arthur ducked his head, before looking up again.

"Can I buy you a drink after work, Merlin?"

Startled, Merlin floundered for a moment, uncertain what was happening and why Arthur Pendragon was asking a lab tech out.

"With you?"

Arthur's laugh was deep and fond, another anomaly, "yes with me. I thought you were smart?"

"I am, thank you very much, ask anyone and they'll tell you that I can -"

"- no Merlin, I meant I've been flirting with you for months and you've completely missed it, haven't you?"

Merlin's mouth was agape, he knew it, Arthur knew it, and he snapped it shut. Arthur thought he was...? He wanted to go for drinks and...?

"I'm taking that as a yes on both counts."

"My god you're arrogant..." Merlin started but faltered when Arthur grinned broadly at him.

And feeling off balance wasn't something Merlin relished and as Arthur started to wheel his way back to his desk, he reached out, fingers tangling in the collar of Arthur's shirt and yanked him back. The wheels squealing on the floor.

Falling forward he pressed his lips against Arthur's, feeling the shock run through the other man's body, and Merlin smirked until Arthur's hand came up to cup his cheek, thumb running over the skin softly, reverently then pushed forward into the kiss. Oh. He'd not expected the feel of tongue against his, the slip of their lips as they deepened the kiss, nor hear the small unbidden moan falling from Merlin's throat.

It was the sweetest and most perfect first kiss he'd ever received.

"Well that shut you up for a minute." 

Well it was until Arthur spoke. "One drink, that's all you get Pendragon."

And with a conceited smirk that hit Merlin directly in the guts, and a push of his chair, Arthur put his headset back on and looked Merlin directly in the eye.

"Perfect, I like my coffee black in the morning, preferably before I get out of bed."

And Merlin could do nothing but snort and shake his head fondly as he answered his phone, greeting the person on the other end brightly, holding Arthur's blue sparkling eyes in his gaze. Maybe it wasn't going to be such a terrible day after all.