#but I am very happy to be proceeding towards my final fashion form:

[fremedon]

p

kibbe and all that other fashion guidelines shit is wrong. the real actual framework is a political alignment chart with the quadrants labeled "makes me feel comfortable" "makes me feel sexy" "makes me look cool to others" and "makes me look normal/nonthreatening to others". every outfit falls somewhere within this spectrum and you can maximize for each outcome at the expense of the others

[angelic-kisses13]

Claiming Part II

Authors Note: I’m sorry it took so long to write this! But I’m glad that I finally got it out to you guys! Happy Valentines Day everyone! 

Summary: Charles and his sacrifice finally arrive at his castle. 

Claiming Part I 

A few hours later, and they had arrived back to King Charles’ kingdom, the palace was even grander than King Indulf’s. It seemed to tower above the clouds, and he watched as her features went from hostile to pure awe. Her hands made quick work of the window, and she poked her head out, trying to see every detail of the kingdom from her vantage point. 

He smiled indulgently. Yes, he had made the right decision. She was going to make the perfect sacrifice. “Little lamb,” He reached out and grabbed her waist, his hands spanning across her curves and full stomach easily. He brought her down to his side, “You will be able to see it better when we are closer.”

His sacrifice pouted, and he rolled his eyes as he reached out to shut the carriage window. “Don’t pout, now. It’s unbecoming.” She snorted and turned her body to face away from him. They continued to ride in silence, the carriage rocking from side to side as they turned bends and ran over loose bricks in the road. 

“Why haven’t you sucked me dry yet? Isn’t that the point of a human sacrifice? To become your food source?” 

His head tilted to the left in amusement. Charles forgot that the poor human wasn’t coached on what being a sacrifice entailed. He would have fun with this one. Something told him she wouldn’t take kindly to the future proceedings. 

“You are adorable Little Lamb. You will be a perfect sacrifice for my people. A few more hours and I will give you what your heart desires.” 

She scoffed and turned her head from him. Her pulse was hammering in her delicate neck. The rapid blood flow causes his fangs to ache. He knew she could feel his gaze on her, yet she stayed turned away. She was effectively cutting off the conversation. Charles should feel annoyed at the blatant act of disrespect. His little human, however, managed to chip away at his walls and self-control slowly. 

Soft but firm words had Charles’ spine-tingling, and he blinked as they echoed around them. “I do not desire to have you drink from me, ‘Your Majesty.’” The venom laced tone had Charles’ spine-tingling, and his beast was prowling in a possessive manner. Charles was taken aback at the level of possession he felt growing in him. 

“Not yet.” The words were spoken to remind himself not to reach out and claim her. There were rules and procedures in place, yet her blood and fiesty nature had him cracking around the edges—his once cool and collected demeanor nothing more but a crumbling avalanche of stone. 

It appeared that she had taken the words as a challenge. Charles was momentarily distracted by the sight of her head snapping around quickly; he was surprised she hadn’t broken her neck at the movement. Her eyes were wide, and the passionate flame he had noticed in the courtyard and throne room was resurfacing. He needed to placate her before he had her trying to claw her way out of the carriage. 

That was when his eyes fell on her busted lip and swollen cheek. He would have to heal that before the ceremony commenced. Charles’ finger itched to reach out and soothe the pain. He thought better of it, though, and curled his fingers into a fist. “How is your cheek faring?” 

She blinked before her hand rose and softly brushed across the swollen flesh. “It has been better.” The words were lispy, but it wasn’t to the point where he couldn’t understand her. 

“Once we get to the Castle, I can find some comfrey to help the swell.” Charles was confused when he saw her body tense. 

Her eyes were guarded as she stared at him. “I don’t have anything to offer you in thanks.” 

Ah, so that was what had her so tense. The poor lamb probably never had anything nice given to her without numerous conditions. Charles waved his hand, dismissing her words, “I do it because we need you in mint condition. A sacrifice is not very fun to play with if they are not in good health.” 

Her eyebrows wrinkled, the lines on her dirtied forehead more prominent with that gesture. “I hardly see how a bruised cheek and busted lip would make me unable to play the part.” 

Charles hummed as he reclined in his seat, his blue eyes taking her in. “Vampires pride themselves on perfection. Anything less is beneath us. I will not have our first sacrifice -in many centuries- look like she was in a brawl.” 

The woman sniffed before turning away, her body hunching in on itself. It seemed that the closer they got to the castle, the more she lost her spirit. Interesting. 

“You are scared.” 

Charles was amused by the scowl the girl shot him. 

“I’m not scared... just weary.” 

“You aren’t afraid to die?” 

The woman laughed, but there was no amusement in her tone. “I have been dead for many years, your majesty. Being a sacrifice just makes it more official.” 

Once again, the mortal had a way of surprising him. “You will be honored. You won’t be just a nameless lamb led to slaughter.” 

“I do not need to be honored. I have never been in my life and I don’t need to start now.” 

Charles didn’t have any words to offer the human, so they remained in silence as they pulled up in front of the castle. He tried to refrain from growling as he noticed several council members standing outside, waiting for his return. 

His little human frowned as she took in the sight. “Are they here for you or me?” Her fingers were clenched together, her thumb rubbing vicious circles into the flesh between her thumb and forefinger. 

“I believe it’s a bit of both, little one.” Charles composed himself, his cold mask falling into place. Once the carriage came to a stop, he waited until the footmen came down and opened it for him. 

He saw movement out of the corner of his eye. His little human was shifting in her seat. He breathed deeply and caught the swift scent of fear. Usually, it would have been a sensual scent. Fear always made the blood taste better. But she didn’t have a reason to be scared. Anger grew in his chest; what was she fearing? Was it him? Was it the situation she had found herself in? 

His jaw tightened, and he closed his eyes before stepping down and holding his hand out for her to take. He could hear the counsel members murmur amongst themselves. Their delight at having the human here was palpable. Charles wasn’t going to have a moment’s peace until the ritual was completed. 

Charles heard several gasps from behind him, and his lips twitched when his little lamb knocked his hand out of the way and climbed down herself. Standing in the light of the torches, her form was more pronounced, the dirt covering her skin was smudged, and her lip and cheek made her features a lump of swollen flesh. Easy to say, she wasn’t much to look at. 

Before his counselors could speak out about her, Charles began moving towards the Castle doors. A gentle tug with his mind and the oversized doors opened on their own. He heard a startled squeak sound behind him, but he paid it little mind. “Come along, little lamb. We must get you situated so we can discuss the ceremony.” 

“Why do you call me that. I am a person; I do have a name.” She snapped as she struggled to keep pace with his long stride. 

Amusement bubbled up in his chest, and he struggled not to let his counselors know how much the little human was affecting him. She was something else, an enigma that he would never tire of trying to figure out. If the ceremony went well then, he would have the rest of eternity to spend with her. 

“Are you going to share it with me or leave me in suspense?” He teased as he slowed his stride down enough for her to catch up. He was momentarily startled when he felt a hand wrap around his arm and a warm body press against him. 

He raised an eyebrow as he took in the marveled awe written across her face. Her eyes sparkled as she took in the tapestries and portraits that lined the stone walls. It appeared she hadn’t been listening to his question, so he let it drop. Her name wasn’t necessary, not until the ceremony, and he was old fashioned. He preferred to voice her name at the altar than in the ever-watchful halls.

“Sire, the room is this way.” One of his followers called out as Charles continued past the corridor his little lamb would be staying in and instead headed towards the infirmary. 

“I’m quite aware, Andrews. Why don’t you and the others go and see the ceremony preparations? We won’t be long. See that you send a couple of handmaidens to start a bath for my sacrifice as well.” 

Charles didn’t bother turning to see if his followers had heeded his words. He trusted the men to do what was asked and with little questions. He heard the soft rustle of clothes as the men turned and left. His little human jumped when she turned to see nothing but open air and a long empty corridor. 

“Oh heavens, that's not creepy.” She whispered to herself. 

______________________________________________________________

He stood in front of her, his chest heaving, nostrils flared as he watched goosebumps appear on her skin. She was everything he had ever wanted, and she knew how to put him in his place when he needed it. 

She was also the only one who could ever make his heart thunder in his chest, and his hands shake with the effort from holding himself back. She was his for the taking. She had dressed in all his favorites, a dark red dress with gold lacing around the bodice and sleeves. At her neck sat a cascade of teardrop emeralds. It highlighted her collarbone and pulse perfectly. With each thud of her heart, the necklace would pulse with it. 

It was enough to have his mouth-watering; her blood was calling to him, begging for him to claim it as his own. 

Claim her. 

His mind shouted as he wrestled with his self-control. It wouldn’t do good to scare her away. He needed to execute this perfectly. 

He took a deep breath as he watched her move around the room, her skirt rustling against the stone floor. Her fingers ran along the spines of the books, her eyes flitting from one place to another. She was comfortable in his presence, her peaceful continence allowing his inner beast to relax. 

“You’re very calm about this situation.” His voice floated across the room. He watched as her body stiffened at the sound—fingers stilling as she took in his words. 

“Will you treat me the way that the villagers did?” The question was innocent enough if he didn’t know the whole story behind her words. 

“I will treat you infinitely better. You are my mate, the necklace around your neck, and the ring on your left-hand claims you as such.”

“But there is more, is there not?” 

He waited until she was facing him before he spoke. “There are several things that have to happen to finish the ritual.” 

Her eyes flickered at his words, but she stepped forward, her hands clasping in front of her. “What do you need me to do?” 

A swirl of pride ran through his body, and his beast purred in delight. His mate was willing to do the impossible, and he would treasure and value her above all else. She was his. 

“You need to transform before we can move on. Once that is done, we will proceed with the claiming ritual.” His words were matter-of-fact but held a depth of concern for the young woman. 

“What does the transformation entail, exactly?” 

“You and I have to exchange blood; once the blood is shared, your body will begin to change. It will be painful for a few hours, and your body will shut down—first the limbs, then the heart, and finally your brain. When you come back, you will be part of the Vampire realm. You will be my Queen and me, your King.” 

There was a long moment of silence, both standing in front of each other, gauging the other’s reaction.  

“You will not leave me to suffer alone?”

He stepped into her personal space, her scent invading his senses. His eyes closed for a few seconds as he acclimated himself to her. His hand lifted, and he finally allowed himself to touch her skin since the exchange of vows. It was rough beneath his fingertips; the weather had not been kind to her. 

Up close he could see the chapped lips and red circling her eyes, attesting to her long nights without sleep. He swiped his thumb across her cheek, relishing in the feeling of the blood rushing through her body. He watched enraptured as her pupils dilated and her pulse fluttered beneath his caress. His eyes were drawn to her lush mouth as her breath stuttered. 

“I will be by your side the whole time. I will never leave you to suffer, I promise.” 

Her eyes shifted to meet his, and he caught just a glimpse of fear before she shut her eyes, trying to hide from him. “I’m ready.” 

He nodded his head before stepping away from her. Turning, he walked over to a goblet on the table, a small dagger resting beside it. He grabbed the blade and reverently traced his fingers over the jeweled handle before opening his left palm. He held the dagger out to her with a flourish. She looked from the weapon and back to him. 

“You’re going to need to cut my palm for the ritual.” 

Her breath stuttered, but ever the fearless little lamb, she slowly shuffled over. Her hands shook as she took the dagger, her fingers clumsily holding the hilt. His lips twitched at the sight. Even with all the bravado out in the courtyard this morning, she was still a human that was terrified of becoming a vampire king’s sacrifice. 

“Are you okay?” Charle’s words were hushed. 

“I’m fine; just tell me where to cut.” 

He peered at her, gauging her reactions to her words. She was far from fine, but he wasn’t going to push just yet. Soon she wouldn’t be able to hide from him, and then he would figure everything out. But, in the meantime, he would continue. 

“You need to cut from the bottom of my left ring finger to the end of my palm. Once that’s done, you’re going to cut from between my index and middle finger down towards my pinky, it should make a symbol of a Cross once you’re finished.” 

Her eyes widened in alarm. “You will die if I carve a Cross into your palm!” 

Charles chuckled in amusement. This little lamb was going to be a fascinating fit for his life. “That’s a common misconception; the wound will never heal right, so it will scar, but that’s the point of the ritual. It is to show that I am claimed. Think of it as your claiming mark, little lamb.” 

“Don’t call me that.” Her lips fell into a deep scowl as she glared up at him through her lashes. His inner beast rumbled at the sight; she was breathtaking and all his. He couldn’t wait to claim her, have his blood running through her veins, his mark covering her body. 

“What would you rather me call you then? My little sacrifice?” 

“My Queen, will do just fine.” The amount of sass made Charles preen. She was his Queen, wasn’t she? The emerald ring on her finger attested to that, but to hear her claim herself as such was enough to make his cock twitch. 

Charles closed his eyes and took a deep breath, grounding himself. He couldn’t lose control just yet, and her body was too weak to handle him right now. She needed to transform first. Soon. 

“Charles.” 

He was snapped back to himself when he heard his given name fall from her lips. The way her tongue weaved the syllables of his name was enough to ignite his blood to a boil. 

“You need to cut now; I don’t know how much longer I can hold myself back, little lamb.” 

With one last curious gaze, she swiftly sliced his palm open, the Cross taking effect immediately. Charles swallowed down the hiss as he clenched his hand into a fist and raised it over the goblet, the two of them watching as the black blood trickled down with soft plunks. 

It took them a couple of times to get enough blood into the goblet, but all too soon, it was time to add her blood to the mixture.

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[laughing-with-god]

Quarter Quell

Request; Yandere Jungkook, Hunger Games Au

Word Count; 11.2k

Every 25 years there is a Quarter Quell edition of the Hunger Games. Quells mark the anniversaries of the districts' defeat by the Capitol, and include special celebrations. The Games involves some sort of twist that makes them even more disastrous or difficult to compete in, or watch.

The pixelated screen depicted a zoomed-in image of a middle aged man, smiling glamorously towards the camera lens as he held the microphone to his face and proceeded to the next segment of the show.

His fake snake-like contacts glimmered as they briefly ran across the cue card. Then he refocused his attention back to the camera; opening his overly plump and artificially enhanced lips to announce-

“Next we have the infamous brute of a man, District Two’s treasure and voted most likely to win; Jeon Jungkook!”

The roars and cheers of the fashionably rich audience reached a deafening climax when they caught sight of the next tribute to waltz onto the stage.  

It seemed that District Two had sent yet another beast this year, eager to slaughter and kill those beneath its’ impeccable strength.  

His form was evidence to the intense training he had been subjected to, the muscles bulging with capability yet his body being slender enough to hint at agility as well.  He was tall and practically towered over the small host as he extended his veiny hand for a handshake. His warrior like body was clad in black slacks, a white blouse and black suit that was complimented with the embedded images of white flowers, the assemble even had frilly handcuffs to add to a more ‘softer’ look.  

This attempt was laughable given the man wearing it.  

The host gestured for him to take the seat next to his, the tribute doing so and smiling wolfishly at the audience that continued their vocal support of him.  

His face was a mixture of slender and round, all features above his lips being reminiscent of a boyish adolescence while his sharp jaw and smug smile suggested a more grown outlook.  His skin was the same color of the fresh snow to coat the grounds during winter, an ode to his Districts’ chore of masonry and making of weaponry in contrast to the other districts whose work lied outside in the fields.  Another trait of his home District was the size of his broad body and full face, clearly he had never had to suffer from food outages, a privilege that was starved of the later districts. His doe eyes were bright with life and glowed with the warmth provided by his caramel-colored orbs, framed by inky black eyelashes.  His nose was fleshy but impish in nature, charmingly scrunching up as he humored the crowd and host. He routinely licked his lips, keeping them moist and berry red; at times pulling them back to reveal two rows of pearly white teeth. His hair was russet brown and neatly kept, greatly contrasting the host’s green and unruly hair to prove the difference between Capitol fashion and the Districts’ more natural trend.  

“Okay. Jungkook.  You are a man who needs little to no introduction this year.  You’re handsome, strong and the Capitol’s favorite tribute to win the 100th Annual Hunger Games.  You even scored the highest with an 11 during the personal assessment test. And your confidence was off the charts given you are the only person to volunteer this year.  Please tell us, what was on your mind when you were reaped to join the fourth Quarter Quell game?” The host rambled, gesturing wildly with his spray tanned hands to express the thrill he felt of talking to such an idol.  

Jungkook chuckled, pretending he didn’t hear the responding coos of the ladies in the audience at hearing his melodic voice, and proceeded to say; “It’s like a dream come true.  I can’t wait to show everyone what I am made of.”  

The host clapped his hands and leaned closer to him excitedly, mock whispering, “Between you and me, what do you think of this years’ twist?”  

Jungkook indulged his act of ‘gossiping’ and leaned forward to seriously say; “I think it’s brilliant.  It’s almost unfair to others how in the bag I have this win.”  

“So complete and utter violence is not a problem to you?”  

Jungkook smirked, and for a brief moment the innocent allure melted off his face as his eyes darkened.  “Why would it be? I’m a natural killer. With or without the weapons.”  

Everyone applauded his answer, chanting his name in approval of his bloodthirsty persona.  Bets were already being made and the obvious choice was sitting right in front of them. This was, without any reasonable doubt, the winner of the 100th annual Hunger Games.  

The Quarter Quell occurred every 25 years, the anniversary bringing a sinister twist to the Hunger Games to remind the Districts of just how much power the Capitol has over them.  The 25th Hunger games had the horrendous twist of making each District elect their own tributes, turning citizens against themselves in order to save their own children from the games.  The 50th Annual Huger Games had double the tributes, each District sending four kids instead of the traditional two to provide double the murder, the winner of that game being Haymitch Abernathy.  The 75th game elected previous victors to make experienced killers the players, the winner was Katniss Everdeen.  Now it was the 100th Hunger Games, and the twist was that the tributes would have no help of sponsors, mentors or even weapons.  

It would all be hand-to-hand combat.  

Bloody and viscous fighting would be the only way to kill.  

Brute force and animalistic survival would have to make up for the lack of aid and guidance provided for in previous games.  

It was already predicted to be the goriest battle yet.  

“I love your personality Jungkook!  So determined! May I ask you a question?”  

“What is it, Declan?”  The boyish tribute inquired the host, leaning back into his seat with suave as he raised one of his neatly plucked brows in anticipation.  

“Is there anyone on your hitlist?  You know….someone you’re just going to gun for when that cannon goes off?”  

Jungkook bit his lip and tilted his head, seemingly pondering the outcomes of revealing this answer to the rest of the world.  The camera panned closer and closer to his flawless face as his brows furrowed in concentration, eyes gazed down in deep thought.  

Finally he looked up and bored his bottomless eyes into the lens, a fire in his irises and a killer scoff painted onto his face.  

The audience waited with baited breaths for his answer.  

“Honestly?”  He licked his lips and took a pause, as if enjoying the way everyone hung onto his words with frenzied eagerness.  “Anyone who messes with District Ten’s Y/n can expect a visit from me.”  

A resounding gasp shook the building.  

“Oh my! A-Are you saying that she’s your lover?”  the host asked after finally getting his dropped jaw to function.  

Jungkook laughed, “Something like that, I guess.  I believe in love at first sight and trust me….she’s mine.”

--

You watched the show in horror from your place backstage.  

Your eyes welled up with unshed tears as District Two’s tribute began to list off reasons why he loved you on live television.  

Your body was frozen to the ground as you felt the already dim fire of hope die down in the depths of your chest.

Your distraught face was glued to the screen, you felt the piercing and ruthless stares of the other tributes as they studied the alleged ‘soulmate’ of the perceived winner, the metaphorical target already being painted on.  But you paid them little attention as you watched your downfall play before you, caused by a man you have never even said a word to.  

He was...obsessed with you.  

It was an inkling suspicion you had before.  

But now you knew it to be the dreadful and tragic truth.

--

(Flashback)

You eyed your costume with a barely concealed face of disgust, the mirrored image before you causing a grimace of disdain.

You were from District Ten.

The main source District Ten offered to the Capitol was livestock and farming, an unglamorous but useful chore that provided the citizens with humble livelihoods and the Capitol with luxurious foods.  Unfortunately, this did not translate well into fashion.  

The stylist had dressed you in horns and fur; believing it to be ‘refreshing’ to dress you as the cattle and not the ranchers that looked after them.  You did admit that it was on theme, but it was embarrassing and even degrading to be dressed as an animal before being slaughtered like one.  

You heaved a deep breath and exited your dressing room, approaching the chariot that already held your male counterpart from District Ten.

The Chariot Rides were the first look the Capitol would get of the groomed and dressed up tributes, ogling at their costumes, looks and personalities before the official betting and sponsoring could begin.  

You had no mentor to tell you what to do during the ride, so you had prepared yourself for a lukewarm smile and half-hearted waves.  You saw no point in acting overly cheerful or happy to be there, you already knew that very little could change your fate.

The horses slowly began treading forward, leaving you trying hard to balance your powerless form as the over-sized chariot pushed ahead recklessly, the roar of the audience welcoming you with a ring inducing ear ache.  The colorful and outlandish faces of the ultra rich passed through your peripheral, giving you a glimpse of the monsters who would be watching and counting on the deaths that would occur in the next week.

The booming anthem continued thundering the giant arena as the final two Districts made their way from behind you, the horns and drums only stopping when District 12 finally took its’ place beside the others.  

The cheers quieted as the President strode towards his golden pedestal, tapping the mic before leaning his aged faced towards it to begin his annual speech.  

“Tributes, we welcome you graciously to the Capitol.  We commend your sacrifice and strength to join us for the 100th Annual Hunger Games!”

A brief and boisterous applause.  

“As you may know, this game is very special.  Not only is it the 100th game, but it is also the fourth Quarter Quell.  This game, like any other Quarter Quell, will have a twist that is unorthodox with the previous games we have watched before.  Tributes are expected to rely on themselves for survival, meaning no aid shall be given in or out the arena. This means no mentors to guide the tributes, no sponsors to save the day, no weapons to kill and no supplies to help survive.”  The President smirked down at the chariots. “Tributes will be expected to fight like animals to win. May this game remind any remaining rebels in the districts that the capitol is still lenient with our punishment, we still could take away much more to make the games brutal for your children.”

The President’s colorless and rumbling voice drowned out as he listed off the basic rules for the tributes to follow during their stay at the capitol.  The rules being well known enough for you to feel free to space out. Your mind was swimming in far more doomful thoughts.  

You knew that there was something off about this game, it happened every 25 years and the game changer was always the subject of interest for everyone; Districts and Capitol alike.  However you as a tribute wouldn’t get the full details until you were at the Capitol to hear what it was from the President himself. But you had a suspicion that it had something to do with taking away tribute’s support system.  When you had gotten on the train you were confused to see no mentors to welcome you, only the escort and other tribute were there. This was very disappointing given that mentors were different from anyone else you’d have help you along the way- they actually lived through the games.  They were also a key role in creating tailor suited strategies for tributes and gaining sponsors if there ever was a dire situation in which you’d need one.  

You foolishly hoped that this would be the only set back to face.  

But you never knew just how much the game keepers were taking away.  

No weapons or survival bags meant an even grimmer fate for the ones playing the game.

You would have to live off the land.

You would also have to beat someone to death with your own hands if you needed to kill.

You felt your weak form crumble beneath the imaginary weight of your inevitable death.  You had no chance to live. The only thing that could possibly even out the scale between you and the other tributes was weapons, strategy, and survival know-how. Without that, this game was basically being given to the careers and any other huge kid who would have no problem bashing someone’s head in.  In this horrendous situation you couldn’t even hope for a quick death, hand-to-hand deaths meant bloody and painful ends.  

You felt a tear trail down your cheek.  Images of faceless kids with huge bodies crowding in to kill you with their own bruised and bloody hands haunted your minds’ eye.  Would they strangle you? Kick your ribs until one of them breaks and puntcures your lung? Maybe-

You felt a nudge break your concentration.  

You quickly wiped the tear off your face and snapped your attention to your District counterpart; Taehyung.

He was tall, slender and sun kissed due to his job at the ranch of looking after cattle that so many kids had in ten.  His face was gaunt and almost intimidating, with his piercing black eyes, bushy and intense brows, regal nose and plump lips that were always in a scoff or blank with indifference.  You two had not said a word to each other, the only communication you could recall was him asking you, in a gravelly and bottomless voice, to pass the butter during dinner on the train ride over to the capitol.  Other than that, he was silent. You didn’t take it to heart though, you were also not much of a talker given the circumstances you two were in. You figured he was also in a state of depression and acceptance of his death, soaking in the last stimulation of life he could while also drowning himself in his own thoughts.

His eyes dragged towards the spot you wiped off, but they quickly redirected themselves to meet your own questioning stare.  

“This isn’t my business or anything but…”  He licked his lips and looked out to the other chariots, seemingly seeking something out before he continued his statement.  “Why is Two looking at you like that?”  

You followed his gaze.  

District Two was one of the closest to the stage where the President was talking, but you could spot a single figure who was twisted away from the speech and looking behind him.  

District two’s theme was masonry, reflective of their chore of weapon making.  Due to this job they had, most of the kids who came from district two had an advantage as they knew how to handle weapons and had basic training with combat.  They were the core of the career pact, Districts One and Four usually teaming up with the trained killers to create a deadly alliance. Safe to say, you did not want anyone from Two to point you out in a sea of tributes.  

But it looks like you had somehow already got their attention.  

His costume was gladiator-like, the chest piece being made out of jagged pieces of metal meant to look like knives and other weapons. He also wore a crown on his head, the silver twisting to look like leaves and plants but was also stained with fake blood.  District Two’s stylist always wanted to hint at their team’s brutality.

You studied this costume and finally met the stare of the person.  

His eyes were pitch black, the color of a midnight sky free of stars.  It wasn’t clear if that was the color of his eyes or if his pupils were just that dilated, as if he was fascinated by what he saw.  This assumption wasn’t a far stretch given his jaw was slightly ajar, like he was in some state of shock.  

It didn’t make sense but there was no doubt about it….he was staring right at you.  

His eyes drank you in, leaving you breathless at the intensity of the gaze, it held a tangible weight that caused you to shiver.  His attention on you was so blatant and fearless, you wondered how the other tributes hadn’t noticed yet or if they were simply pretending not to.  All of his muscular body was twisted towards your direction, the president and his speech long forgotten as he ogled you up and down. It was like he had never seen such a person before, he was studying you like he would never get another chance to.  

Taehyung shifted his body and suddenly you were blocked from the stranger’s line of vision, Taehyung’s much larger frame covering you. ��

You took a shaky breath, the bizarreness of the look on two’s face was so confusing and it left you questioning what it could possibly mean.

“He’s been looking at you like that since we rolled out of the entrance.”  Taehyung said, still blocking you but also managing to keep his eyes on the ranting president to achieve an act of listening.  

“.....Maybe it’s because we’re dressed like cows?”  You bleakly offered, pursing your lips at your own weak explanation.

“No, there’s more to it.  I don’t know what the expression on his face was but it can’t be good.”  Your District mate insisted, leaving you with a sense of relief that you weren’t the only one to feel like there was something up.  

You nodded in agreement and tried to keep your agony and fear at bay given so many eyes were on the tributes.  

Finally the President concluded his speech with a promising but terrifying; “May the odds be ever in your favor.”  

--

“His name is Jungkook, District counterpart is named Joy, he’s eighteen years of age and he volunteered as tribute.”  Your overly colorful and dainty escort sing-songed as she presented you two with a tape.  

After the chariot ride, both you and Taehyung agreed that you should attempt to figure out as much as possible about District Two.  You guys didn’t have a mentor so this meant that you would have to rely on your Capitol escort to provide you guys with information of the other tributes’ reaping.  

“So what?”  You asked from your spot on the neon monstrosity of a sofa.  “Careers from 1 and 2 almost always volunteer.”  

“Not during Quells though.  Even they are too scared of the unknown twists to just jump in.”  Taehyung said from a sofa parallel to yours.  

You two silently watched as Vesta began bringing the hologram-like screen to life before popping in the tape of two’s reaping.  You were still amazed by the technology of the Capitol, it was far more advanced than anything you saw in the farmlands of Ten.  

The HD hologram burst with color as suddenly a slender, skinny but fashionable man was facing the room with a bright smile.  “And now, the male tribute.”  

Mesmerized, you watched as the unnamed personality skipped to the humongous glass bowl to pluck a name.  He held the paper up to his squinty eyes and made his way back to the microphone to announce; “Kane Stelen.”  

Before a response could even occur, a boisterous voice interjected to holler, “I volunteer as tribute!”

The camera panned out to see a young man jogging up to the stage, brown hair bouncing with his movement as he bounded excitedly towards the escort.  Almost immediately the rest of District Two applauded and cheered for this guy, some even screaming out his name with a sense of pride. He grinned ruthlessly at the camera and shook hands with the confused escort when he found his spot beside him.  

“What’s your name boy?”  

“Jeon Jungkook.”  

He then held his arm up in the air in a victor stance, the crowd going crazier in response.

The hologram suddenly depleted into darkness, leaving you all silent as you tried to dissect what you have all just witnessed.

“He’s quite handsome.”  Vesta said in between her sips of bubbling champagne.  “I don’t get the big deal here. Why don’t you just form an alliance with him?”  

“Because we’re not careers and his loyalty would only rest within One and maybe Four.”  You heard the frustration in Taehyung’s voice as he attempted to explain it to the capitol airhead.  

“Don’t treat me like an idiot!  I may not be a mentor but I’ve seen my fair share of games to know that if a giant tribute from a strong District takes an interest in you, it’s for the best that you use that to an advantage.”  The fashionista screeched.  

“That interest could be good or bad….most likely bad.”  You sadly mumbled, brain still playing over the scene of his reaping.

He was so bold to volunteer for one of the deadliest games.  And by the way the rest of his District supported him, you could only imagine how strong his reputation as a trainee must’ve been.  He was probably one of those killing machines that looked forward to the games, maybe his parents were the type to make him learn all types of fighting and survival skills.  District two tended to make their kids believe that serving in the games was some type of honor, and the gleam in his eyes told you that he genuinely believed that.  

“If there’s truly no weapons in the arena, that means the bigger tributes will have the best chance.”  Vesta giggled before staggering away, heels clicking awfully against the marble floor. Her fake accented voice left you with one final thought; “Don’t burn your bridges, dearie.”  

--

(Training Day 1)

The elevator was void of any sounds greater than the breaths of you and your District mate, the empty air bouncing off the walls of the enclosed space.  

You silently watched as the digital number above the metal doors continued to downgrade, illustrating the passing floors as you two descended to the basement of the training center.  

“Remember, today is only about scoping out the other tributes.”  

You curtly nodded.  

Over breakfast that morning, you and Taehyung made a semi-alliance.  You both agreed that two heads were better than one and it would be the smartest course to help each other out to make up for the lack of mentorship.  This would only last up until the arena, however.  the goal of the Hunger Games was to have only a single survivor, this meant that all alliances would have a turning point of one killing the other (most likely in their sleep or when their backs were turned) and neither you or Taehyung wanted to put yourselves in that situation.  

“No talking to anyone, lets just try to evaluate the others and we can see where we are by the end of it.”  He had said.  

This seemed to be the best option; to keep an eye out on who would be the biggest threats and assess your chances after that.  Thus you agreed to Taehyung’s plan.

A sudden ding sounded to announce the arrival to the basement.  

You stiffened up and squared your shoulders, plastering on a blank expression as the silver doors slid open.  

‘Welcome to the Training Center.  Only tributes from this point on.’  A robotic voice sing-songed as you and Taehyung stepped out in unison.  

The training center was a giant gymnasium void of any color but grey and silver.  The huge layout had multiple different stations for various skills ranging from camouflage, fire making, combat, weaponry, and survival know-how.  In the center of such an area was a circle of young people, all dressed in the same fitness attire as you and eyeing each other up with paranoid gazes.  

You took a deep breath and strode forward, barely holding back your grimaces as other tributes reacted to your arrival with guarded glances of scrutiny.  You planted your feet by the outer section of the circle, far from the center but close enough to still be part of the group. Taehyung stood beside you, arms crossed and eyes staring straight ahead.  

You discreetly counted sixteen tributes including you and Taehyung, which meant that four more districts still had yet to arrive.  You couldn’t help but search for the odd stranger from Two, and realized with a strange sense of relief, that he had yet to arrive.  

You took this time to study the others as you all waited for the remaining tributes.  It seemed to be a pretty good mix, there was a lot of older teens but a couple younger ones to even out the scales as well.  It couldn’t be helped; the look of utter dread on the 12-14 year old faces, they without a doubt knew that their short lives were coming to an end very soon.  The smaller ones would be snapped like twigs by the bigger ones; a sad reality that replayed itself every year.  

As time passed, more tributes made their entrance.  

Currently there was twenty-two kids.

Only two more to go.  

From District Two.  

After what seemed like ages, finally the ding of the elevator rang once more, followed by the sounds of footsteps approaching the cluster of kids.  

Your back was turned to the elevator and you knew it would break character to turn and face them, thus you stubbornly bowed your head and studied your shoes; ears picking up on the sound of their approach.  

You almost choked when they paused directly behind you.  

They were standing mere inches away from you.

He was standing mere inches away from you.

Suddenly the back of your neck began to burn as you felt the unnerving weight of his stare piercing into you.  Without having to even look back at him, you somehow just knew that his behavior was the same as the day of the chariots; he was studying you with a mystery sense of awe that was beyond rational understanding.  Except now he was doing it from a much closer range, you could practically feel the goosebumps on your skin begin to form as you let him inspect every visible cell of you. It was as if you were under some microscope and you had no choice but to let him dissect everything he could about you.  

The thundering of your heart got louder and louder as it pounded against your chest, a foreign feeling of claustrophobia caving in on you.  The panic was almost enough to make you turn around and confront the intense observer, but this instinct was interrupted as the head trainer began talking.  

“Welcome to the training center.  As tributes, you will spend the next three days here to prepare for your time in the games.  Each station is a stimulation for some of the obstacles you will face in the arena. It’s easy to want to learn all the battle skills and tricks for hand to hand combat, but my advice is to not ignore the survival skills.  Statistically speaking, most of you will die due to exposure, infection, starvation and dehydration.” She paused and scanned the faces of the fear-stricken tributes. “Furthermore, communication amongst yourselves is not forbidden but any fighting is and will be met with swift punishment.”  An odd gleam glimmered in her eyes as she smirked, “Save those rivalries for the arena.”  

And like that, you were all dismissed to begin training.  

Before you could even think about where to go, Taehyung grasped his hand around your arm and promptly dragged you to the edible plants station.  

The station was a small greenhouse area filled with many kinds of plants, each having a small place card as to what type they were and their status of poisonous or not.  There were also books, memory cards and quiz-taking machines for any tribute willing to strain their mind on the process of adapting all this information.  

“We can spend some time here, then go to fire and shelter making later.”  Your District mate explained while picking up one of the books to flip through.  “Plus we have a good spot from here to spy on the combat station.”  

You looked directly across to indeed see numerous tributes lining up to take a turn with the trainer.  There was open mats and the trainer would talk to them briefly before wrestling with them, you assumed giving them tips before putting them to good use.  Then the tribute would be sent to the back of the line as the process repeated itself with another kid.  

So for the next hour, you and Taehyung took turns committing the plants to memory and also scoping out the other tributes.  From time to time, Taehyung would lean over and whisper District numbers of some tributes for you to keep an eye on.  Other than the usual careers, there was a few brutes from other Districts that purposed a threat.  District Six had a huge guy, he didn’t look older than 16 but he seemed to be one of the few who could hold his own in the hand to hand combat. You also spotted an athletic girl from Seven who was very agile, well-fed and flew through the rope course as if it was a walk in the park.  Taehyung told you to keep an eye out for her and another guy from Eight, who was keeping a low profile at the hammock making station but seemed to be one of the few kids who had an air of confidence about him, most likely due to his strong built.  

Due to the Quarter Quell, everyone was avoiding the stations with weapon training, given there wouldn’t be any in the arena so it was a certified waste of time.  However you did catch some careers hovering by there, as if they were tempted to just play around with the expensive and new age knives, axes and spears. This made you scoff as their childish antics really pissed you off.  What kind of psycho looks at weapons as if they were shiny new toys?

While most of the tributes were scrambling to absorb all the tips they could get, the careers seemed to be having fun.  They rough-housed and conversed as if they were an over-hyper friend group. Their relaxed attitude hinted at their experience with training; they probably grew up with similar practices so they didn’t feel the intense pressure the others did.  Still it was disrespectful and made the knots in your stomach tighten with anxiety.  

Maybe they really were trained killers….

The odd stranger from Two was also in this group, but you tried your hardest not to pay any attention to him.  You had a fear that he would take your temporary interest in him as some sort of invitation to talk. Because of this, you kept your focus on the plants but snuck occasional glances towards him.  He seemed to be one of the quieter ones of the pack, yet the others followed his lead without question whenever he stalked off to other stations.  

“I think it’s time we headed to the fire making station, don’t you?”  

You turned around to see Taehyung as he approached you from behind, gaze already set on the suggestion station.  You nodded in agreement, plants were already a very bland topic but you beared it your burden knowing that it could be the difference between life and death in a case of starvation.  You just hoped that learning how to make a fire was a tad more interesting than this.  

The instructor of that station directed you and your District mate to a make-shift camp area.  As you sat on the fake logs and watched as the professional demonstrated just how to create a spark, a sight across the gymnasium caused your focus to come to a frigid stop.  

The tributes of District Two were leaning leisurely against a wall and staring right at you.  Well...he was staring right at you while his partner was turned to him, talking in a rushed fashion and making furious gestures in your direction.  

Your heart plummeted.  

His face was blank but his eyes were somehow both dazed and ultra-focused onto his target.  When he noticed that you were looking right back at him, he raised a brow and tilted his head before pushing his tongue against his cheek.  

His counterpart, Joy as you vaguely recalled, followed his gaze to you, her face dropping and posture stiffening in response to your equally stressed expression. She muttered one more thing to him and stormed off, leaving him to wolfishly grin at you, creepily indifferent to anything she had said to him, as he stalked forward.  

You nudged Taehyung as the enigma of a man steadily approached.  

Comfortable, elegant and seemingly determined, Jungkook plopped himself on a log parallel to the one you and Taehyung shared.  The fire reacted to his arrival by bursting into life, the newfound flames painting an orange glow on his charming face and bottomless black orbs.  

Apparently the instructor sensed that he should make his leave, he muttered a quick “I’ll go get some more sticks” and dashed off to leave you and Taehyung alone with the intimidating career.

“My name is Jungkook.  I’m from Two. And you are?”  

The fire cackled as a silence ghosted upon the trio.  

He laughed, the sound twinkling and musical as he brushed his hair back to reveal a clear forehead.  He propped his arm on his knee before raising a brow. “You know usually when someone introduces themselves the custom is for the person to respond back.”  

“We’re from Ten.”  Taehyung blankly answered.  

Jungkook licked his lips.  “Do you guys’ have any names?”  

“Don’t see how that is relevant, we don’t even know why you’re here.  What is it that you want?” Taehyung’s deep voice was almost as scary as the situation that was unfolding before your very eyes.

“Fair enough.  I watched your guys’ reaping and know that your names are Taehyung and Y/n.  I was just being polite but I suppose we could skip the formalities if you prefer.”  Jungkook leaned forward, the fire causing a most primitive vibe as it highlighted his dark features and made his next words all the more barbaric.  “I want to be allies.”  

“No.”  The reply was swift and brutal on Taehyung’s part, masking your splutter of shock at such a ludicrous request.  

“May I ask why not?”  Jungkook’s casualty didn’t falter at the answer, most likely expecting it.  

“It won’t benefit us.  Your motives are unknown and it makes no sense for you to even want us as allies.  We’re not careers.”  

“Maybe I’m not a muscle head and am thinking deeper about the games than just teaming up with other athletic tributes.”  Jungkook argued, small smirk still evident.  

“That still doesn’t explain why you’d want us.  If you’re looking for smarts or underdogs, there’s plenty of other tributes that fit the bill better than us.”  

Jungkooks’ eyebrow did a funny twitch as he smiled, rather fakely with dead eyes, at Taehyung.  He without a doubt picked up on Taehyung’s stubbornness and abandoned any hope to convince him. Although he did seem rather pissed about this, he continued on with a forced tone of amicability.  “Fine, I’ll count you out then.” He then bored his inky eyes into yours, turning all his attention onto you. “You however still have an open invitation.”  

Before you could even open your mouth, Taehyung answered for you; “She’s with me.  I’m not in so neither is she.”  

Suddenly, Jungkook’s face dropped, lips morphing into a snarl-like manner while glaring furiously at your poor District mate.  Long gone was the act of any friendliness, his frustration shined through with a sinister anger. The switch was so fast that you wondered for a moment if you were just imagining it, but by the way Taehyung shifted in his spot you knew that it was very much real.  The career then gritted out, “She’d be far better of with me than you.”  

“I doubt that.”  You couldn’t help but agree with your District mate on this one.  For the very short amount of time you had conversed with the odd boy from 2, it was already evident that he was prone to very unusual behaviors along with swift and gruesome personality changes.  

“I’ve trained my whole life for this.  I think I’m perfectly capable of taking care of her in that arena.”  Jungkook was persistent, bewildering you with his unknown mission in becoming allies with you.  Why in the world would he want you instead of the other bloodthirsty careers? What did he see in you?  And why was he willing to fight Taehyung and brag about his ability to protect you?  

“Exactly, you trained your whole life for this.  Focus on being the sole winner of this game and leave me and Y/n alone.”  

The words hung heavy in the air, echoing in your eardrums as the severity of the situation once again entered the conversation with a pending sense of doom. The theme of ‘every man for themselves’ was all too glaringly obvious. If Jungkook was desperate to win, then how come he was breaking his back to get closer to a girl who he’d have to kill off anyway? Was this an insight to how careers viewed teamwork in the games?  Did they approach each other like, “hey no hard feelings but in that arena I will chop your head off when it comes down to it but until then let’s be friends”? Why even bother gathering in a pack if you know that one of them was more than likely your future killer?  

Jungkook’s face melted off any emotion as a hard mask of indifference overtook his handsome appearance.  He stiffly nodded before standing up to his full height, taking slow but deliberate steps away from the camp.  

He was barely out of the station when he halted his stride, glancing over his shoulder to set his somber eyes on you.  

“Does he always speak for you?”  

The question was clearly directed at you in reference to Taehyung and the fact that you had not said a single word during the whole ordeal.  

Your system seemed to shut down now that Jungkook was directly asking you something, all you could do was open and close your mouth as your brain scrambled for what to say.  

He grinned, although there was no malice behind the action.  It was almost a fond smile as he watched you blush and stutter.  Like he enjoyed you being caught off guard by a simple question on his part.  This odd response was gone before you could study it, as he turned on his heel and went to rejoin the other careers.  

--

The second day of training was a tad more bearable than the first.  

The tributes were not required to round up and wait until everyone arrived to begin training, as soon as one got there they were free to roam to their hearts’ desire.  

You had decided to split apart from Taehyung and experience a limited feeling of independency.  This was brought upon by Taehyung’s paranoia of the careers.  

“That Jungkook guy most likely gave the rest a heads up that we’re an alliance.  We should try to stay apart in order to throw them off.” These were the first words to greet you when you stalked over to the elevator after awaking late and missing breakfast.  

“Why?  Are we in a really bad spot right now?”  You had asked.

“Generally careers would want to gun down other alliances before picking off individuals one by one.  And from what happened yesterday, I can guarantee that Two isn’t forgetting us anytime soon.”

You had just shrugged in weak agreement and continued the wait for the elevator in silence.  The thing was, you didn’t know what you and Taehyung actually were. Sure, you helped each other out but it there was an understanding that come arena time it was every man for themselves.  So could it be said that District Ten had an alliance? You weren’t sure. What you did know was that it was very generous for Taehyung to step in the way he had during the conversation with 2.  Either that or he was very stupid...too speak so boldly to a career and deny him when matters didn’t necessarily involve him. But luckily he did...you weren’t sure what you’d do if you had to deal with that Jungkook guy all on your own.  

So here you were; alone at the camouflage station, trying to paint a tree trunk on your arm whilst also deciphering if this station was even worth the trouble.  

You had never been much of an artist so it was proving to be a difficult task to properly get all the precise details of the bark down.  It surely didn’t help that you were only allowed to use natural ingredients as paint. You were currently mixing a mixture of dirt and water to create the ideal brown paint, but it was becoming increasingly hard to strike the perfect balance.  Too much dirt meant a very flakey consistency while too much water meant a very liquidey one.  

“Who the fuck has time to paint themselves when they’re in the middle of a blood bath?”  you mumbled in frustration before shoving the paint bucket away in anger.  

“I second that notion.”  A small and shaky voice called out.

You turned around to see a young boy standing a few feet away from you, holding up a paintbrush as he gestured to his forearm.  On said body part was a chalky and sloppily painted on flower, evidence to his shared hatred of the camflogue station.  

His round and chubby face smiled nervously at you, most likely regretting having said anything to you in the first place.  He looked to be 13 or 14 years of age, frame similar to yours except slightly smaller. His eyes were smiley but looked to be puffy, his plump lips were currently set in a childish pout as he awkwardly shifted his weight from one foot to the other.  

Caught off guard, you just nodded and hastily grabbed the rag to wipe off your ‘masterpiece’.  Logically speaking, you were aware that this little boy was little to no threat to you, compared to the careers and other scary tributes. However you couldn’t help the fact that your nervous system went into overdrive when talking to tributes that weren’t Taehyung.  Call it paranoia but there was no way of knowing this boys’ intentions of speaking to you. For all you know, he could’ve been playing bait for some bigger tributes to reel you in.  

An image of District Two flashed in your minds’ eye, causing you to shudder.  

“I-I’m sorry!  I didn’t mean to scare you or anything.  I just really need someone to talk to….” He whined as he watched you frantically gather to put the equipment away.  “No one will let me near them because they don’t take me seriously as a tribute.”  

You froze.  

“I know I’m just a kid but...I deserve an ally too, right?”  

You felt an involuntary tug on your heart strings as you heard the desperate plea of a literal child.  

What was wrong with you?

He was so young and probably faced the lowest chances of winning this game, and here you were; dashing away from him as if he was the big black wolf when all he wanted was a friend.  You felt a sudden feeling of disgust in yourself. Did this game really affect you that much that you were quick to turn your back on a helpless boy? Did you now have the same morals of a killing machine career?  

You shook your head and turned back around to face the kid.

“I’m sorry.  I’ve just been really...anxious lately.”  You struggled to explain. “What’s your name?”  

The boys’ expression of distraught melted into a somber smile as he sized you up and down.  Then, when he knew for sure that you were serious about talking to him, he released a tiny giggle and jogged up closer to you.  

“I’m Chenle!  From District Three!”  

The boy was overly friendly and way too trusting of you.  But luckily for him, you weren’t kidding when you told him that you would also love an ally.  He talked really fast, as if he had countless thoughts bouncing off the walls of his little head and they were all racing to escape his pouty lips.  And when he did share a thought with you, a twinkle in eyes glimmered excitedly as if he was getting giddy from just telling you his little ‘secrets’.

You learned that he was thirteen years old and possibly the youngest one here.  He was also a big brother to a little girl back at his home district. Chenle had a mother but no father and although he was very scrawny and small, he did very well in school and had more brains than most of the older tributes.  

“Remember the 58th annual Hunger Games?  The winner was Beetee Latier and he took out a whole pack of careers by electrocuting them.”  He told you with a coy smile on his face as his eyes gazed off with a bleak expression. “I want to model my game after that, careers are usually all muscle and no brain.  It’s my only hope; to outsmart them.”  

You recalled that game.  The winner as one of the last tributes standing and he looked to be at odds compared to how big and brutal the others were.  Luckily for him, a sponsor aired in some electric wire and he used it to kill the remaining tributes.  

You bit the inside of your cheek and avoided his gaze.  You didn’t have the heart to interject and point out that the chances of coming across electric wire to outsmart muscle heads was very unlikely.  Also this game being a Quarter Quell and it’s awful twist meant that this game was built very differently. Any strategy outside of pure strength was very flawed.  There would be no equipment in that arena, and no sponsors either.  Instead you focused on much lighter topic of discussion.  

“The victor of that game was also from Three, right?  Are all kids from your home District little whizes with technology?”  you asked.  

He giggled and rubbed the back of his neck.  “I guess we have more of a knack for it than any other district.  Our school lessons are built around it.”  

“That’s really cool!  You’re way smarter than any kid over at Ten.  Lots of them don’t even continue going to school after elementary.”  You praised.  

“How come?”

“Most of them need to help their family on the farm so higher education isn’t really needed.”  You shrugged half-heartedly.  

Chenle nodded and got a thoughtful look on his face.  “You know, I never really even gave much thought to other Districts.  It’s a shame that I just now got an interest in them.”  

You couldn’t help but agree that it was indeed a very awful irony.  The very first time that he’d ever interact with anyone outside of Three was when he’d come face to face with the other tributes he’d be thrown into a bloodbath with.  

“Oh!  You have some paint on your lower back.”  The young boy pointed out, interrupting your train of thoughts.  

You cursed under your breath, twisting to try and catch sight of the paint but failing to do so.  Out of the corner of your eye you saw Chenle grabbing a rag, he then approached you and offered to wipe it off.  

You let him.  

But this was apparently a very big mistake.  

“DON’T TOUCH HER!”  

The boisterous holler caused all the tributes in the training center to freeze and turn their attention to the cause of such war cry.  

At first you assumed that a fight was breaking out in one of the other stations, but then it occurred to you that the words yelled would have nothing to do with a typical ‘tributes butting heads’ situation.  

When you looked up, your heart dropped to your stomach.  

Jungkook was hustling forward, head tilted like a bull as his steps vibrated the ground beneath him; like a gladiator approaching its’ final victim.  His coal-like orbs were ignited with the flame of fury, and such eyes were set on you and your recent thirteen year old ally.  

Instinctively, you pulled the boy behind you as you realized what was happening.  

Soon the fuming tribute was standing in front of you and snarling at the innocent but confused babe that you tried to shield with your meager arms.  

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!  You can’t just touch her like that!” He yelled, stepping forward as Chenle stepped back in fear.  

“I-I was just helping her get something off.”  The boy whined in defense, cracking and prepubescent voice trembling as he spoke.  

“Oh please, I know how boys your age think!  Tell me something you little freak, were you trying to cup your first feel or something before you’re eventually killed in that arena?  Is that why you’ve clung onto her all day?” Jungkook held a spiteful scowl as he taunted Chenle, without a doubt trying to embarrass the boy as well as scare him.  

“N-NO!  It’s n-not like that.” The pitiful whines were ignored by the career.  

There was a brief silence as Jungkook looked both you and the boy up and down, tongue pressing against his cheek in a tick of annoyance.

You held your breath.

“What district are you from?”  Jungkook spoke after coming to a mysterious conclusion in his mind.    

You felt yourself freeze in dread.  You couldn’t bring yourself to say a word so you just watched in horror as this awful predator threatened to swallow this prey alive for no more reason than sheer paranoia and unfortunate misunderstanding.  Your eyes began to water, you felt so worthless for not helping in any way. But it was as if there was a force beyond you that was causing you to halt all movement and logical thinking, manipulating you so you were left to watch this awful showdown.  The weight of the collective gaze from all the other tributes watching had paralyzed you.  

You were forced to watch on.  

“T-three.”  

Jungkook smirked, handsome face looking ruthless and somewhat satisfied.  

“I’ll see you in the arena.”  

It was a chilling promise, a signed deathwish from yours truly.  Targets weren’t definite in the Hunger Games. Most people killed who they could whenever they crossed paths with someone weaker than them.  It was a series of luck, stealth and strength. Very rarely were personal vendettas the cause of killings in the arena; unless revenge kills counted, when someone killed your ally and in return you kill them.  But almost never, never, were such hateful rivalries formed in the short period before the games.  

And having such a brute like Two promising to gun you down was as soul-crushing as watching your demise before your very own eyes.

With that, Jungkook turned around once again to storm away.  

You pretended to not feel the piercing stares of the tributes, each trying to dissect why someone touching you would bring out such a violent reaction from Two.  

You turned to console Chenle, only to see tears streaming down his face before he made a dash for the restrooms.  

You promised to wait until he got out to talk to him, but the bell rang to announce the ending of the second day of practice.  

You left the center in shame.  

--

The third day of training was uneventful.  

Everyone avoided you like you had the plague.  

Including Chenle and Taehyung.  

You didn’t necessarily blame them for putting distance between you and them.  After what had happened with Jungkook, it was obvious that the career would target anyone and everyone around you.  They were just doing the rational thing of saving themselves, yet it was still heartbreaking for you.

You just wanted to apologize to Chenle, to repay him in any way for what he had to suffer through yesterday. But whenever you attempted to close in on him, he’d become pale as a ghost before sprinting away.  

Taehyung remained as stoic as he always had, yet he never pulled you aside or met you with notes in hand like you were hoping.  

This was the clear breakage in the ‘semi-alliance’ and you took the hint with grace.  

It wasn’t like your relationship with him was going to last long anyways.  

Weak and dreary was how you spent the last day of training.  You wondered around the stations, thoughtless, depressed and exhausted.  You had one goal in mind; stay away from Jungkook. You kept one paranoid eye on him, always making sure to stay several stations away from whichever one he resided in.  

Currently you were at the shelter making station, listening half heartedly to the trainer as they presented how to form a pile of sticks into an acceptable hideout.  The reason for your lack of interest was due to the looming thought of ‘why bother?’  Any life-saving skill wasn’t going to be learned in a matter of three days, and being under the radar of a psychotic man like Two lowered your chances even further.  Today you allowed the purgatory-like fog to overrule you.  

Idly you wondered if there was life after death.  It couldn’t be helped, the promise of death was right around the corner and your human mind was wrapped up in the unanswered question of if end was really the end.  You desperately wanted there to be something, anything, to greet you when you meet your violent and barbarian end. But logically, you knew that absolute nothingness was more likely.  

Long ago there was such thing as religion, people believed in a higher power and thought you were either rewarded or punished after death based on how good of a person you were in life.  That was before the Capitol took over and erased all institutions that went against what they thought. You learned about it briefly in school but never gave it much thought. But now that you were nearing the end of your short life, you found yourself wishing that some mystical being from above could take mercy on you in the form of a oasis-like place to greet you after your murder.  

Maybe there would be-

“Excuse me?”  A melodic and womanly voice interrupted your thoughts, causing you to look up and see whom was now standing in between you and the trainer in action.  

She wasn’t facing you, instead addressing the shelter-maker with a tone of politeness.  

“Would you mind letting me and this girl talk in private?”  

The trainer nodded and left the half-made shelter, getting up to approach another tribute who was yards away and attempting their own version of a hide-out.  Whilst this happened, the girl finally turned to face you.  

It was Joy.

From District Two.  

Jungkook’s Counterpart.

Your eyes widened and instinctively you took a step back, hoping to create a distance just in case she was also crazy like him.  She noted this paranoid behavior with an eyebrow raise and a roll of her dark eyes.  

“Calm down.  I’m not him.”  she reassured.

You gave her a guarded look, filled with scrutiny and disbelief.  

Sure, technically just because someone came from the same District as a douchebag didn’t necessarily mean that they were guilty solely on association.  But, Joy still was part of the career pack and by no means should be trusted.  

The gorgeous woman was also a visual counterpart to her handsome district mate.  She was tall, curvy, with a mature face and sexy features that made you feel insecure about your own.  You wondered how the hell she could be in the same age-range as you, she looked to be in her twenties bare minimum.  Her smouldering eyes looked around you two, scoping out the area before she grabbed your hand and dragged you behind a fake in-door tree that’s width was large enough to shield you both.  

“I don’t have a lot of time and trust me, I’ll be in more danger than you if he finds out I’m talking to you.”  She leaned her pale face closer, eyes deeply gazing into yours with an intense seriousness. “Jungkook is obsessed with you.”

“W-what?”  You spluttered.  

“He’s fucking crazy!  I don’t know what it is about you that makes him insane but he snapped the moment he saw you that day of the chariots.”  She hush-screeched, extra careful to not draw attention to your guys’ secret conversation.  

You couldn’t say that it didn’t make sense.  Because frankly, it did make all the sense in the world.  However it was still a leap think that someone who you’ve never said a word to could be obsessed with you.  You thought he was probably just messing with you, playing mind games with one of his victims before actually killing them.  Most likely trying to create an entertaining game for the viewers to enjoy and root for. But certainly not genuine interest.  

“Look, when he’s not eating or resting he’s watching your reaping tape.  He’s constantly asking our escort to get in touch with your escort so he can try to talk to you.  He told all the careers to not touch you. He even asked me to keep an eye out on you during these training days so no one ‘gets too close’.” She said this all in a rush, her face morphing to show the true emotion she felt about her own ally; she was scared.  “In the game, he wants to find you and have you join the career pack. He told us that first we have to find you before anything else. I’m afraid you won’t have a choice in the matter.”

“Why are you telling me all this?”  You asked.  

Any aid given from tribute to tribute had to be dealt with extreme caution.  There was no absolute way of knowing that some sort of angle wasn’t being played with you.  Strategically speaking, Joy could be acting like a friend to earn your trust by using her ally’s odd behavior to her advantage.  You couldn’t allow yourself to be played even though every bone in your body told you that she wasn’t lying about Jungkook’s infatuation.

She licked her ruby lips and straightened up, gaining control of her expression and plastering on a look of aloofness.  “I don’t know but don’t expect anymore handouts from me. I’m coming to you as a woman. If a boy was doing all that to me without my knowledge, I’d want someone to tell me.”  

She peeked out from the tree to make sure the coast was clear before making her wordless leave.  

A couple minutes of silence passed as you leaned against the tree and tried to process what had just happened.

Later you returned back to the trainer and asked for more pointers about making a hideout so hidden that tributes will unknowingly walk past it.  A new motivation and need to focus ignited within you due to her words rang in your minds’ eye.  

‘He wants to find you and have you join the career pack.’

Over your dead body would you ever join those monsters.

But, was Joy different?  

By coming up to you to warn you, did she prove that perhaps not all careers were as heartless as you had suspected?

Or was she playing one of her own games?

--

(Back to interviews)

“And the next tribute we have is perhaps the one we all want to see most.”

The TV personality grinned excitedly at the responding roar the crowd released as they without a doubt anticipated the upcoming tribute.

“Coming from District Ten, coming straight for our hearts….” The man faked looking side to side as if to tell a secret;  “And not to mention, District Twos’ heart….”  

A brief laughter.  

“The gorgeous and lovely- Y/N L/N!!”  

You took one deep breath and tried to calm your racing heart.  

Without your consent the backstage worker pushed you into the blinding limelight, causing you to stumble onto the platform.  

Claps, cheers and screams welcomed you and rang in your poor eardrums as you slowly walked over to the waving host.  Luckily you made it to the seat before your legs could give out, but you had to clutch at your overly expensive dress while doing so.  

You smiled nervously and tried to mask your upcoming panic attack by focusing solely on the over-zealous host and not the thousands of hungry stares from the below audience.  In return, he excitedly took your hands in his and asked; “You’re a sight for sore eyes, dear! I think we can all see why Jungkook is so enamoured by you!”  

Your smile faltered for a brief moment before you forced it back on.  

“T-Thank you.”  You settled on taking the compliment without acknowledging the implications of Jungkook.  

But you were a fool to think that there would be a chance that the host wouldn’t focus on the taboo subject matter and nothing else.  

“You know Y/n, it’s been over 25 years since the Hunger Games has last seen a couple.  Would you mind telling us the story of how you and Jungkook met?”  

You gulped.  

But maybe this was a blessing in disguise?  Perhaps there was a chance that this was your opportunity to clear this whole mess up?  Surely telling the truth in front of so many people could untangle the whole misunderstanding.  

“The thing is Declan, I’ve never even said a word to him.  We’re complete strangers.” Your meek voice sounded laughable even to you but you were glad it was finally said out loud and off your chest.  

Declan’s face dropped as a look of shock took over his artificial features.

And then in a blink of an eye it morphed back into a wide smile that revealed his bleached teeth.  

“Aww!  You must be the coy one between the two of you.  I’m guessing Jungkook does all the talking for you.  How cute!”  

The crowd cooed at this ludicrous conclusion.  

“Y/n, I would ask about your strategy in the arena but with someone like Jungkook in your corner I dare say you’re going to be the safest tribute.”  

The crowd laughed, amused with the guard dog you supposedly had watching over you.  

“No, it’s a misunderstanding.  I’m single and Jungkook is not an ally of mine in any way.”  You protested.  

Instead of addressing you, the host turned to the audience and placed a hand beside his mouth to fake-whisper; “She’s still denying it!  We’re gonna get nothing outta this girl!”  

There was mixed reaction from the crowd, some more ‘aww’s for you and laughs at the host.  You were hopeless to the incoming blush that burned your cheeks, ducking your face in fear that people would consider it a blush of passion and embarrassment and not one of anguish and anger.  

“Y/n, there’s no need to be shy.  Young love is a beautiful thing! You and Jungkook make the perfect duo for this game, he has the brawn and you must have the brains,  He’s the beast to your beauty. The Ying to your Yang!” The host squealed this all while excitedly flapping his hands like a thrilled school girl.  

You pursed your lips in an attempt to not snap on live television at the delusional fool who was more concerned with ratings instead of the truth.

“But you know, there can only be one winner.”  The solemn hush rang amongst the audience in an instant, the seriousness causing all crowd reaction to halt.  “As we know, in the 74th Annual Hunger Games, Katniss and Peeta had to turn on each other.” The host continued while sniffling; “Y/n, aren’t you afraid of that moment when you and Jungkook will have to compete against each other?”

You licked your lips before saying with the straightest face you could muster; “No.”

--

Interviews with tributes only lasted three minutes.  

After attempting to dodge the questions as best you could, you were soon waved off the stage as District Eleven began theirs.  

Vesta excitedly escorted you down the narrow backstage hallway and into the Ten dressing room, all the while chatting your ear off about her personal thoughts of your screen time.

“You looked so cute up there!  But oh dear, do your social skills need work.  You’re lucky Declan knows how to carry one-sided conversations.”  She rambled before stopping to open a wooden door marked ‘10’. “Anywho, wait here with Taehyung while I go get more drinks.  Those damn Avoxes apparently don’t know the meaning of bottomless champagne.”  

You rolled your eyes at the first world problems that occupied her little mind, whilst also feeling bad for the silent slaves that would face her bitchy wrath and irreconcilable alcoholism.  You studied her retreating form for a brief moment before stepping into the room and closing the door behind you.  

The dwelling was small but efficient; pressed against a wall was a long table filled with expensive finger foods and drinks, an animal-printed sofa in the center and a wall-sized screen that projected the current live show taking place on stage.  

The only people in such place were the two designers, whom were talking quietly next to the table, and Taehyung who sat watching the rest of the interviews.  Having reached your limit of capitol people for the day, you took a seat on the same couch Taehyung occupied.  

He was as straight-faced and aloof as ever, barely acknowledging you in favor of fixating his coal-like eyes on the other tributes as they spoke of strategy with the enthusiastic host.  

You couldn’t help but wonder what he thought of your interview, if he felt any sense of sympathy at the romantic propaganda that was pushed onto you.  But you and him weren’t exactly on peaking terms either.  

So thus you two sat, wordlessly dissecting the bland interviews of District Eleven.  

It wasn’t until the entire show was over that Taehyung said something to you.

Vesta had returned and rounded you both up to go back to the suite.  

When exiting the elevator and entering the tenth floor, Taehyung uttered a final thought before turning his back to you to head to his room.

These would later be the last words he’d ever say to you.  

In his intimidating and bottomless voice he told you; “You’re either the luckiest tribute in this game, or the most doomed.”

--

(Couple things; I AM open to doing a part two but if I had this in my docs for a second longer I think I was gonna blow my brains out.  I do know where I wanna take it in the arena but decided to post it as it is bc I need time to organize the  actual battle.  Hopefully getting some feedback on this first part can help my creativity. This was orginally a request for a joint blog I was apart of but I left it...however the anon who requested told me they were happy that I was gonna be the one who wrote it and I already had 10+k down so I said fuck it.  The gif I had is really similar to the gifs I used for Pen Pal but pls don't drag me I cant find good yandere Jungkook gifs like he’s an actual ball of fluff.  Also I need to hire an editor bc omfg this is so shitty it looks like a first draft.  But anyway, Please do tell me what you thought of this story and well...issa wrap)

[chaosworthyarchive]

                                                           9.11.3227                                                                                                                                 Location ¦ Angel Island

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

     “You can’t stay out of trouble for three seconds, can you?”

     While playful despite the current situation Sonic still narrowed his eyes at his smirking brother, unable to hide one of his own as the echidna raised a brow in turn. Truthfully the hero was touched that The Guardian had bothered to come see him given this was usually the busiest time of day and season for Knuckles, but then again he couldn't remember a time he ever visited The Shrine and not had the other at least greet him in some fashion. Sonic was going to chalk that up to a brotherly instinct and not a lack of trust.

     “Hey, this wasn’t my fault, thanks,” he pointed out, gesturing to the wound that Tikal was currently examining proper. He could see worry on her face, just as he could see the slight concern in Knuckles’. Both of them knew what had happened and the effects of which (Kintobor and Porker had been nothing but thorough it seemed) and the only reason it had taken him so long to come to them was because he wasn’t sure he could make the trip. The need to know had overpowered that doubt, however, and now here he was sitting on the grand steps with the two echidnas, trying to reassure the princess with a small smile and a light joke. “Any hope, or am I a goner?”

     It took a moment but she did look up to meet his gaze, a soft but sure smile forming on her lips even if the concern remained. "I don't believe it is your fault that it is not healing as most of your injuries normally do, and I don’t believe the emeralds mean to be as they are. From what I can determine the emeralds are merely keeping the balance. The power they hold, that mixture of good and evil, is delicate. Taking too much bad could throw things off balance and lead to terrible events. I believe they want to help, they simply cannot risk it."

     There was a sound of gruff agreement from Knuckles, though he didn’t seem to like the news. He merely understood the conditions. "It's just like when Chaos drained them and sucked out all of the bad. Look how well that went. If we had acted any later things would have been irreversible." 

     Tikal nodded, her fingers brushing over the discolored veins on the hedgehog’s side with a featherlight touch, almost despondent. "But you are not like them, you are an individual made of good and thus cannot process the bad. Your body cannot handle the energy, it can purify it in its own time, yes, but the process is slow. That is why..."

     It was why it looked as it did, why some parts of the affected area looked, for lack of a better word, lifeless. Tikal didn’t need to say it, everyone there was thinking it. Even Chaos, who was at the base of the steps looked up with what the hero could only deem as another worried face. Still...none of this was news. It was all what the hedgehog had been expecting, what he had been able to piece together by himself and with a few hints from Kintobor. He supposed, despite its erroneous implications, it did all make sense. 

     When he had cured Chaos the circumstances had been so very different than they were now. It was like Knuckles had said, the emeralds had been drained of their negative energy, leaving only the good and whatever hadn’t been put in the hero at the time of bringing him back to life. It was the only reason he was able to do what he did on such a grand scale, being able to force out that negative energy wasn’t something he could do in normal circumstances. Not on that scale and not, it seemed, when it was within his own body. At least not to the rate he would have liked.

     Given everything else his new chance had granted him, this seemed like a perfect catch-22 but, as with most things, the hero would learn to live with it. It was still a small price to pay. 

     "Well, that's lovely," he quipped, clearly not as bothered as either echidna had expected judging from their reactions. He already knew this was the extent of their help, neither of them could do much else given their power was tied to The Master Emerald, not the ones tucked safely away at the base. "So there's nothing I can do but wait, I figured as much. Thankfully 's not too bad, not as much as it was a week or two ago, anyway."

     More and more he was thankful that the attack that had caused all this wasn’t worse. Yet it gave the hero a new, creeping fear that if The Four ever did come back to finish what they started he might not be so lucky a second time. All the more reason they had to find out who those people were, where they had come from and why they knew about the emeralds in the first place. 

     Something to consider later, he reckoned, looking from the princess to his brother with a grateful smile. "Thanks for the help, but I should probably head back. I...don't think everyone's quite as happy t’ see me."

     The nod he made down below, towards the little blue chao floating around was sure to answer the unspoken question the other two had. It was hard not to notice, frankly. Whenever he visited the island the chao that resided near the shrine were always far too quick to cling onto the hero in any way they could, he had been told this was because of his radiating energy so now that it was more or less tainted it was no wonder the poor creatures looked both torn and wary of him. Even a certain off-red chao was avoiding him. The last thing he wanted to do was cause them any more unneeded stress and Tikal had seemingly understood this and gone to rewrapping his injured side. Though she didn't get far before a light blue, watery, hand reached out to stop her with a gentle touch. The motion enough to cause everyone to look up at odd, almost translucent green eyes. 

     "Chaos…?" 

     The demi-god said nothing, which wasn’t exactly unusual but did look between the two echidnas and the hedgehog, lingering on the latter before their eyes flicked to the burned flesh and back again as they spoke in their odd manner. 

     << I can take it. The bad energy. Let me help. >>

     It was unexpected, so much so that the hero wasn't entirely sure what to say or if it was even a good idea to stop the three-pronged hand from hovering over his side. Fortunately, nothing happened, not just yet, and the two pairs of jewel-colored eyes locked onto one another. Oddly enough, the hero wasn't frightened by the offer, merely confused and wary, chiefly for Chaos' sake.

     Knuckles, however, snorted gently, a sound of realization. Now, why hadn't they thought of this before? "Of course. It makes sense, they did drain the negative energy from the emeralds after all, this would be just like back then. Just on a smaller scale. Seems good or bad Chaos can handle the energy."

     The words didn't help as much as the echidna was maybe hoping they would, in fact they only made the hedgehog frown. While well aware that this was nothing compared to what the demi-god had acquired before there was still a caution about the hero, who knew all too well what negative energy could do to a person. Even as Chaos finally closed the small space and laid a hand on the wound. It was an odd feeling, cool and yet warm at the same time, ever-shifting like the tide but still a solid thing. Still, nothing happened until Sonic looked at those substantial eyes once more, his hesitation clear but nothing but confidence, assuredness, in Chaos' features.

     A moment more passed before the hero relented. What did they have to lose? He trusted that Chaos wouldn't have offered if it meant there was the slightest possibility of something bad happening, and it was so rare that the demi-god took the initiative that the hero almost felt bad for wanting to deny them. It was the first time they had a chance to offer the hero what they had always wanted to give them since their fateful day in the city: help. So, with a small release of breath, mainly to relax, the hero gave a small nod.

     It was all Chaos needed, an equal nod given in return before the faintest glow surrounded not only their hand but the wound itself. Another unusual feeling. Sonic had never wondered what it might have felt like to have something unseen, something leaning on the side of deadly, pulled out of him, but he certainly experienced the sensation that afternoon. It hurt, he wouldn’t deny that much, but the pain was fleeting, momentary, before it seemed to cease altogether. Though it was the small sound of surprise from Tikal that had the hero looking down at his side once Chaos stepped back, both pleased and astonished to see nothing but natural, unharmed skin. No burn, no dark tendrils. No fur either, but the hero certainly wasn’t going to complain about that much, it would grow back in a few day’s time. It always did. 

     Yet, ever true to his nature the hero looked back to Chaos, particularly their hand with an air of concern. He was met with what he assumed to be a faint laugh, both of the water god's hands raising and neither any worse for wear. 

     << Fear not. Small amounts are fine, I am fine. And now so are you. Yes? >>

     It was a mix of relief, gratitude and the inability to resist after seeing Chaos' triumphant expression that made the hero smile, truly smile that was. He took just a moment to gather himself, to make sure that things really were back to normal, before replying with a gentle, "I am, yeah...thank you." 

     Chaos only shook their head, once more surprising not just Sonic but the two echidnas watching the proceedings with clear investment, when they reached out to place that very same hand on the hero's head. Not in a way that was meant to be demeaning, it was precisely the opposite.

     <<Thanks is unnecessary. You saved me. I want to do the same. You are family. >>

     They weren't words the hero had been expecting and, little did he know, his eyes gave away just how thankful he was to hear them even before he could voice them out loud. A chance he never got given how, just a split moment later, he was nearly flattened by a dozen or so chao. Thank goodness for his reflexes and steady feet. Though now it seemed he had to stay just a little while longer, if only to make up for lost time with the little creatures nuzzling into blue and tan fur alike. Chaos knew they weren't going to let him go anytime soon, after all. 

     Sonic would say this. Despite the obvious next steps, despite the fact they still had to find The Four, he was glad things were more or less back to normal. Hopefully, they would stay that way for a bit longer. 

[animaniachan]

Happy Belated April Fools!: A3! Camel Tenma Imagine

…yes, you’ve read the title right

…no, i don’t have that kind of fetish

…but also yes, i’ve also just wrote a 1.5k+ words imagine on a camel (in reality this took me about a week to fully figure out how to camel)

i would like to point out that none of this would’ve happened if not for the lovely @currywaifu for dragging me down into this hell. 99.9% of the credit for this imagine goes to you even though i am the one who wrote it. so i figured that since i’m already here, ima drag all of you down here with me ;)))

on that note, i would be opening imagine requests for this blog very soon but dear god not about tsundere animals, this is not in any way indicative of how the future writing projects on this blog are going to go…maybe.

anyways, prepare yourselves and enjoy…i guess

ao3 version: here

NIGHTMARE FUEL WARNING

—

“Mm…” your previous drowsy eyes were forced open to the bright sunlight beaming down at you. “...Where the hell am I and what am I doing here?” you glanced around, confusion clearly littered in your hues. What you are witnessing before you is a vast, open field of vibrant green with not much more to offer other than some lonely trees spread out in the distance.

You had no recollection whatsoever about your current situation. The last vivid memory you had was your visit with your celebrity, carrot-head boyfriend at the Mankai Dorms since today was the one time when he actually had a day off. “Seriously...where the hell is this place…?” Since there’s no point in simply standing around like an idiot, you’ve decided to explore this vast pool of greenery, hoping to discover at least some sort of clue.

However, your hopes to discover anything quickly dissipated as the field seemed like it was stretching infinitely with no clear signs of an end. It was at that moment that an indescribable sense of despair took control of your entire being and you hopelessly collapsed onto the green cushion below you.

In contrast to the beautiful scenery around you, your mood was like a wilted flower as you slowly scrunched your knees up and buried your head into them. You know that the waterworks would kick in very soon while your only wish at this point was to leave this mysterious hellhole so you can see your boyfriend again and jump into this arm for comfort and finally STOP this god forsaking nudging sensation on your head and, and…

Hm? Nudging?

You suddenly realized the gentle yet weighted sensation that would periodically brush against your head was not just your imagination playing tricks on you and was very real. Relief began filling in your wounds of despair as just the thought of another individual being here with you is more than enough comfort. You swiftly glanced up to the source of the contact in hopes of finally receiving the information you’ve been desiring for all this time.

However, the second you did so, all the thoughts that previously occupied your mind was sucked into a boundless black hole. The world seemed to stop flowing around you as you were met with the most gorgeous amethyst hues you’ve ever witnessed in your life. The sharp gazes pierced through you like arrows and it was then you noticed the long lashes that complemented those perfectly-shaped eyes. With a breath hitched in the middle of your throat,  you can’t help but be completely mesmerized by those crystal clear hues. Incidentally, at the same time, a strong sense of nostalgia emerged from the depth of you, they reminded you of someone, almost as if you’ve stared into the exact same hues before...somewhere…

At that point, you were so deep in thought that it resulted in you simply staring blankly back at the intense amethyst gaze. It wasn’t until you saw that they eventually broke contact with your own hues in a very awkward and uncomfortable fashion that you’ve realized you’ve been staring for much too longer than you had originally anticipated.

“Ah— I’m so sorry! That was very rude of me to stare! The truth is, I have no idea where this place is and was hoping that you could help me—” desperately trying to redeem yourself from the previous rudeness displayed, you bowed hectically like a maniac while asking for forgiveness. It wasn’t until you’ve glanced up again how large the figure of the individual actually was. The first to come into view was their abnormally long yet muscular legs, then it proceeded to a very broad yet protruding back, lastly you traced their body line all the way up to their long neck before finally receding back to those gorgeous amethysts which stood out amongst the pool of orange. “...What?”

T-This is what you think it is...or is it? As dumbfounded as you are by your recent discovery, your brain cells have somehow managed to process the identity of the individual before you. 

This is...a camel, right? What the hell is a camel doing in the middle of a meadow!? 

In contrast to your actual feelings, the orange beast seemed to think of your reaction to his figure a form of compliment, evident by how it arrogantly puffed its chest out and gave a good ol’ proud huff in response.

...I wasn’t praising you, that was all shock, you proud idiot… The phrase that floated into your mind was all too familiar since it was your go-to response to the occasional idiocy of a certain carrot-head actor. “I swear...just when I started to get hopeful again...why?” Today has been an emotional rollercoaster and just when you thought you’ve already made it down the first slope, there seemed to be an even larger second slope ahead. The dam that had previously managed to contain your tears previously broke down once again. Sorrowful sobs continuously escaped your lips and refused to cease as you vigorously tried to wipe away your tears.

However, what you didn’t realize was the flustered look the camel gave after seeing you suddenly resolve into tears as if it’s trying to say, “why did you suddenly start crying!? You were just fine a minute ago!” Your sudden outburst of emotions managed to put this camel into a panic frenzy as it desperately looked around as if attempting to find a source of comfort to calm you down. Though, its efforts were futile as the lack of resources around you could be comparable to a barren wasteland.

All that it can do now is look down hopelessly at your slumped state while having a mental battle with itself about the next course of action. Then, after having seemingly arrived at a viable solution, resolution flickered in its glittering amethyst orbs. After letting out a huffing sigh, the majestic orange beast lowered its lengthy neck to eye-level with you and leaned in as gentle as it can muster to be to not so much lick, but instead offer a gentle peck to your teary eyes with its furry snout.

Completely caught off guard by the action that is absolutely unbefitting of a camel, your overwhelming emotions came to a halt as you stared back at the animal, mouth agape. “You...what are you…?”

“Mrrorahhh…” To your question, the camel simply responded with incomprehensible camel noises. Of course, it was a camel, what did you even expect. However, somewhere, you felt, its emotions came through.

“Are you...perhaps telling me to stop crying?”

“Mrrorahh.” Once again, the camel cried as if to confirm your inquiry.

“Hehe, thanks. You’re right, crying’s not going to change anything,” honestly, you couldn’t believe that you were just comforted by a camel as you wiped away the last of the tears that streaked down your face. “You’re surprisingly a very smart and kind camel eh? There, there, thanks again.” Without thinking, you reached out and gave a few loving strokes on the animal’s head. Though, the second you’ve done so you felt it tense and freeze in place like a statue. Uh-oh, did I somehow offend it by petting it? Wait, can you even offend a camel in the first place? Oh god, whatever you do, just please don’t eat me… “S-sorry, I kind of just instinctively did that- huh?”

Of course, you’ve brought up your guards as soon as you detected the camel’s odd actions since you didn’t know and didn’t want to know what it could do to you if it went off a rampage. However, what happened next managed to send all common sense you’ve come to know in your life down a limitless black hole.

What you’ve witnessed was the animal before you once again averting those brilliant purples away from your own though this time, a deep shade of rosy pink was dyed across its entire face. T-This...this is what I think it is right? I never knew that camels were even capable of blushing… So you do learn something new everyday…

“Pfft...hahaha! What is this? You’re so adorable! Oh my god, I can’t- my stomach hurts!”

In response to your maniac laughter, the very same one you would use to make fun of a certain actor, you could’ve sworn the camel gave you a glare that suggested, “what the hell is so funny and don’t call me adorable!”

“Ahahaha...ha...you know, even though you’re a camel, you remind me a lot, like a lot of someone I know.” The camel whipped its gaze back towards you again at your nonchalant comment. It narrowed its perfectly shaped eyes and offered you the gentlest and kindest gaze as if it understood your words. And in response, as much as you hate to admit it, your heart definitely skipped a beat under those warm and kind eyes. What is this feeling…?

“-i, [Name], -ake up!”

No, this is a camel! There’s no way that I’m being captivated by a camel-!

“Wake up!”

Besides, even if I did feel this way, there’s no chance in hell since I already have Tenm-

“[NAME]!!”

Your eyes shot open almost as quickly as your body which basically catapulted upwards and resulted in painful contact with whatever it was that lurked above you. “Ow!”

“OW! What was that all about!?”

“Eh? Tenma…?” The first thing that descended in your field of vision was your orange-haired, multi-talented actor, and extreme tsundere boyfriend who was now holding his forehead in pain from the lovely headbutt that you’ve just offered him. Still not registering the full extent of the situation, you glanced around your surroundings in a daze before realizing that you’re in Tenma and Yuki’s room of the Mankai Dorm and that you’re currently laying on Tenma’s bed.

“Geez… I don’t know what to be more baffled by, the hardness of your head or the fact that you can fall asleep in a duration of a phone call.”

Ahh...so that’s what it is…

The second the puzzle pieces clicked into place, a new resolution was formed inside of you as you wordlessly leaped off your boyfriend’s bed and made your way out of his room.

“Oi, [Name], where are you going?” Not used to not hearing a familiar comeback from you, Tenma began to get worried as he hurriedly followed after your footsteps.

Meanwhile, your silent search finally came to an end as you found the one and only you were looking for in the living room, “hey, Tsuzuru-san?”

“Mm? What’s the matter, [Name]?”

“I have a request for the script of the next summer troupe show,” you stoically stated just as Tenma finally caught up to you.

“Oh? Well, let’s hear it.”

“...can you please cast Tenma as a camel for his next performance?”

“...huh?”

“WHY!?”

[mwolf0epsilon]

PROMPT TIME BABE. Give us some WereNorman being assisted by Sammy and Abby in escaping captivity in big wolf form. Who then takes them away to his pack to meet and get Sammy red as the wolf turns back to a hot man.

This took an unexpected turn, so it's not exactly what you asked. Still good I promise!

Summary: Sammy was pretty sure this was a fairytale in the making. He'd always dreamt of moving to the city and starting a career as a prestigious musician, adored by all for his magnificent compositions, far away from his father's cattle ranch and especially from the reach of his witch of a step-mother. Usually though, fairytales tended to send a fairy godmother to one's aid, not an intelligent and positively massive wolf...

---

[[MORE]]

There was a part of Samuel Lawrence Jr that felt like he'd missed out on something very big. An opportunity to achieve more, rather than end up where he was now. Still living in the ranch he'd called a home since birth. Granted his little family had changed after his mother's passing, his father welcoming another woman into his life and both baring a little sister that Sammy often looked after himself.

It wasn't too bad of a life. He worked hard and got to reap the fruits of his labour without much hassle, but it felt... Incomplete. Like he could be more than another simple farmer.

He could have been great.

"I think you're bored of it all." Abigail once said, as both sat by this one big and very old tree that he'd play his banjo under, after escaping the scrutiny of his parents. His little sanctuary of sorts, in the form of a dried up husk home to god only knew what critters. "You're an adult now, and you've never really got to go farther than the town nearby."

"Not for a lack of trying..." he sighed. He'd wanted to leave many times, but there was always an excuse keeping him tied. His father's age, the need to keep the ranch in good condition, his step-mother's discouraging and downright abusive insults... He couldn't leave as he pleased. He was bound by duty.

"Maybe one day you'll get your lucky break." She offered one of her sweet little smiles, the ones that tried to offer him her unending optimism. "Maybe we both will... The ranch is beautiful and all, but I'd like to see the world and make friends."

They couldn't have imagined that their lucky break was indeed just over the horizon. Nearing with each nightfall and each changing phase of the moon. Until one night, it finally presented itself.

Sammy jolted out of bed when he heard gunshots. The moon was at its fullest and brightest, and he cursed as the light stung his eyes ever so slightly. He'd left his window open to let in the cool breeze, since his room often got stuffy.

Pulling on his coat and boots, the blond rushed downstairs and grabbed his gun, wondering if someone had come back to steal more chickens like in the last few months. His father had sworn he'd shoot dead whichever son of a bitch tried to mess with his coops again.

To Sammy's surprise the gunshots stopped as quickly as they began, and he found Samuel Sr barricading the barn from outside.

"What's going on?" He asked, noticing that Abigail had come to investigate the ruckus, while her mother watched from the window.

"A wolf. A whole mountain of a fucking beast was stealing the hens!" Their father hissed as he made sure the lock was in place. "Need my bigger gun. Fucker ain't leaving my farm with his life!"

He ran back inside, presumably to look for his bigger gun. The one he kept in a safe in his room for reasons Sammy never quite understood. His step-mother retreated from the window, closing the shutters with a slam. Leaving Sammy and Abby alone to look at each other.

"... We're not just letting dad kill a wolf, right?" The girl asked, looking mildly put off.

"I mean... It was stealing chickens." He shrugged. He was pretty sure it wasn't illegal to kill wolves, even if they were becoming a bit of a rare sight these days.

"It was probably just hungry! We can't punish an animal for doing what it has to survive!" Abigail pouted. "It's like if dad shot me for eating all the chocolate spread."

"It's not the same, and I knew you'd done it you little scamp!" He glared slightly in annoyance before shaking his head. "What do you propose? That we break a window in the back and just let it run free?"

"Yes! That's a great idea! Maybe it won't come back after such a fright." Abigail smiled brightly at him and Sammy had a feeling her optimism knew as much sanity as it knew an end. This was a crazy idea.

"Abby..."

"Please Sammy...?" She looked at him pleadingly. How could he resist that face?

So here he was, at the back of the barn pushing over a stack of hay that obscured one of the larger windows.

"This better be worth it and the mutt better have some sense and run off..." Not a minute after, something truly massive jumped out of the now open window and stared at both of them. It was a tremendously large black wolf, as black as tar, with coarse fur and a single yellow eye. Sammy's blood ran cold once he realized that from sheer size and muscle it could easily overpower the big old ornery bull his father used to breed his cows.

Instead of displaying any form of aggression however, the beast stared at them both, nodded its head in a rather human fashion, and offered them a paw (which Sammy noted looked disturbingly humanoid in its shape).

"I..."

"He's offering to shake...?" Abigail was just as confused by the creature's behaviour. "I think... I think it would be rude not to accept?"

"Well... I... Sure, this might as well happen." He took the offered paw. Next thing he knew, both he and Abigal were being carried away by a bipedal thing that looked like a wolf, but sure as hell didn't act like one.

Sammy was pretty sure this was a fairytale in the making. He'd always dreamt of moving to the city and starting a career as a prestigious musician, adored by all for his magnificent compositions, far away from his father's cattle ranch and especially from the reach of his witch of a step-mother. Usually though, fairytales tended to send a fairy godmother to one's aid, not an intelligent and positively massive wolf...

Said creature ran pretty quickly on its hind legs while carrying a young adult and a teenager. Both who were too stunned to even make a peep.

They weren't even sure where they were, since they'd never really ventured so far into the woods before.

After what seemed like an eternity, they stopped by a tree stump. The wolf set them down and stretched, before motioning for them to stay put and going towards a small pond to take a drink.

".... Abigail?"

"Yes?"

"I'm never relenting to any of your requests ever again..."

"That's fair."

The wolf returned, tail wagging like a pleased dog. It appeared to be gesturing strangely at them, which left both scratching their heads in confusion. Noticing their looks, the wolf smacked its own muzzle and then proceeded to write in the dirt with it's big dirty claws.

'Thank you kindly, you folks saved my hide.'

"Oh my god it can write..." Sammy put his face in his hands. The absurdity of it all was making him feel hysterical.

The wolf wrote once more.

'Of course I can write. You never seen a werewolf before?'

"A werewolf!" Abigail gawked "I thought those weren't real..."

"They're not. I probably just hit my head and am hallucinating all of this..." He yelled once she'd pinched him. The wolf was still there and staring at him with what appeared to be an unamused look on its face. "Or maybe not..."

'You done?' it wrote, sounding quite sassy without even needing to vocalize it. 'As I was saying, you folks saved my hide, so I'm in your debt.'

"Debt? What do you mean...? Like, a favour for a favour?" Abigail frowned "We were just doing what was right, even though you were kind of stealing from us."

'Which is why I'm in your debt. I wronged you, but you still chose to be merciful. As such I'm offering you both my services.' the wolf bowed, and the two noted the pale spot on its chest just below its neck that made it look like it was wearing some sort of cravat. 'If you graciously accept, I will consult with my pack so as to request some leave for a while until I repay you in kind.'

"Is any of this necessary?" Sammy gulped. Having an intelligent wolf working for them felt a little odd.

'Very. It's the proper etiquette for us wolves. Eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth. Be it in the good or bad sense.' the wolf bowed again. 'I was raised properly, unlike some of the other brutes that call themselves real wolves... A bunch of fools is what they are. Getting shot at and giving us all a bad name.'

Ironic considering he'd been stealing from a ranch and got shot at himself.

"I think it'd be rude not to accept such an offer." Abby finally said.

"Abigail!"

"Sammy, this is what we've been waiting for! If he can help us get to the big city, we could really start our lives!" The girl insisted. "Don't you want to be happy?"

'The big city uh? I got a home in New York, I could definitely show you kind folk around.'

"How does a wolf get a house in New York City?!" Sammy was a little incredulous at the claim.

'I'm only a wolf once a month, that's how. The commute to these parts is hell with how traffic is like there. Takes about three days to get here, and I usually spend the end of the month with my pack.' the wolf huffed 'Which is why I'm consulting with them if you accept. Deal, or no deal?'

Abigail stared at her brother pleadingly, and even the wolf's gaze was glued to him. Sammy didn't see a way out of this, and then again did he really want to?

"Fine, but we need to pack up..."

"Great!"

'Excellent, sun will be up in a few. I'll take you back to your home and meet with you in the morning. Keep a look out for a Norman Polk.'

And so it was.

The wolf snuck them back to the ranch, where they packed up their things as their father searched frantically for the escaped wolf. Once they were done, Abigail snuck their bags to the big tree they hung out by, and both sought out their father, explaining the beast had fled and they'd tried to chase it to no avail.

In the morning they are breakfast as usual, got washed up and dressed, then waited.

Near sundown, a tall and rather handsome man with only one eye approached them.

"Norman Polk?" Sammy asked.

"In the human meatsuit." The man bowed, grinning rather wolfishly. "Yous ready to depart?"

"Yes." Both replied giddily.

"Great. Let's get goin', before your crazy pa comes out with that bigass gun o' his..."

This really was like a fairytale. Where they got their happy ending thanks to a kindly entity that respected the olden rules of equivalent exchange.

Except instead of a fairy godmother, Sammy and Abby ended up with a werewolf indebted to them. A new start seemed like fair enough of an arrangement to repay them fully.

[constantlyunlightening]

Look At Me

Pairing: Ferdinand Von Aegir x F!Reader

Genre: Smut, Fluff

Rated Explicit for: Wandering eyes, teasing, smut and dialogue that’s like dirty talk except not at all, really, because it’s just fluffy and cute

 I already posted this on AO3 but I’m going to post it here because I’m finally showing up in the tags!!! Yay! Comment/Reblog if you like it! And remember, save a horse, ride a paladin.

18 years of age or older! If you're under, do not read or interact.

Ferdinand Von Aegir was a whole lot of things. He was honest, optimistic and hard working. He was ideal-driven and thoughtful. However, there was one thing he absolutely was not; slick.

He could try to be prim and proper all he wanted, but it didn't take intensive observation skills to catch the noble in the act of eyeing you up. Or more specifically, eyeing up your chest.

It had been an occurrence that you had caught on more than one occasion. Sunrise eyes would lock onto your form; an innocent notion at first. But soon enough, his attention would slip down to the swells of your breasts as you went about your usual activities. It wasn't until he finally peeked his eyes back upwards, only to lock gazes with the person of his affections. It was in that split second he would tear himself away, turning not only his gaze, but his entire body away from you in the process. He liked to point out that the long mane he had grown out was due to being busy more so than for fashion or practical purposes, but he sure seemed to be getting a use out of it now as it managed to curtain away the pink starting to creep onto his cheeks as he made his escape from you.

You supposed he was embarrassed and trying to protect his dignity. He most likely thought it was unsightly for a noble such as himself to gaze to frivolously at a woman like he was, even if he was in a relationship with said woman. And while it may not be the best solution, it would explain why he instantly would dart out of the room or busy himself with something else once he was caught staring. Admittedly, the first few times you had noticed, it was amusing to watch the flourish of red rise to his cheeks as he scrambled away, by now you were craving attention more so than watching him escape yet again.

If you were to confront him, you were positive he would meet you with a surplus of apologizes if you called for it, but that wasn't what you were looking for. You didn't want him to say he was sorry. You didn't mind that he was looking. In fact, you enjoyed that sort of attention when it was from him. If you could spare some time alone together, you wanted to actually act upon the desire he had that caused him to look. But that was hard to do with him getting himself worked up in such a fluster and then running away as if he were a child about to get scolded.

But that plan of action was not going to work any longer for him. You weren't going to let it. This wasn't a battle field by any means, but you knew how to be strategic and with a just a little planning, you were going to get what you wanted. Or at the very least, you were going to get Ferdinand to be a bit more comfortable with his lustful whimsy. And today was the day to put your strategy into action.

Dorothea had a hand in planning your outfit for the day. Your usual outfits may display your assets well enough for Ferdinand's taste already, but you wanted to push him a tad further this time. Maybe he'd be less bashful in his lust if you indulged him. Or at the very least, catching him off guard in the little number you were wearing was sure to get an interesting reaction. You were borrowing a black dress from the opera singer - silky fabric corseted at your waist and forcing the dress to detail over your curves. It wasn't anything too extreme compared to other outfits you've warn, but there was a key to the neckline of the outfit. It was the reason you asked Dorothea for this specific dress. It absolutely plunged, revealing a strip of skin that went all the way down to the embrace of your corset. Ferdinand would really have something to look at today. To keep yourself concealed until you were ready to show off, you had the foresight to keep an oversized jacket around yourself during the day. It would keep unwanted gazes away from other men, but more so than that, you wanted to catch your target completely off guard.

The jacket worked well to hide the surprise. When Ferdinand came to greet you, he almost seemed relieved. Poor boy must be so pent up. You could remedy that.

"Well, hello, my love!" He greeted you with that warm smile you had grown so very accustomed to - the very smile you had fallen absolutely in love with. It further steeled your resolve as he came to your side, proceeding to walk with you down the hall. With your more conservative jacket, he must have been put more into focus for the time being, seeing as he dove right into work mode. "I am sorry to start your day off with work related thoughts, however I would like to inquire if you will be joining me tomorrow evening to go speak with the head of House Villon? It is a simple meeting to go over supply routes, so I can handle it on my own. But I must admit, I do prefer having you by my side. I find comfort in it." His voice brought a sense of calm over you, his cheery energy drawing your full attention to him as a smile came to your lips.

You'd follow him to the depths of hell if he asked you too. "Of course, I'll go," you confirmed, as you paused walking, turning to face him. "Since that's not until tomorrow, do you have some free time now? I was wondering if you'd be interested in having some tea with me."

There was no hesitation in his response as he nodded. Always one to please, specifically when it came to you. "If it is tea you are after, I would be happy to oblige." He offered his arm out for you to take, using the chance to get closer. "To the dining hall!"

You wrapped your arm with his, enjoying the contact while your heart fluttered with excitement. Time to put your little scheme into action. "Actually, I was hoping to spend our time in my room." You met his inquisitive look with a calm smile of your own as you answered the silent question he posed. "I like the quiet sometimes. It's nice to spend time alone with you."

He didn't seem to even consider the fact that your room had no equipment or space to properly brew tea, too delighted by your answer evidently. "I am worried I will become too excited if your attention is all directed towards me," he mused, his eyes crinkling with his smile as he casually changed directions, guiding you back to your room with no further questioning.

It was when both of you finally entered your room that he realized you were lacking the necessary tools to fulfill your request. You had guided him to enter the room first as you shut the door behind you, his back to you as he appraised the room. "We have seemed to have forgotten we will actually need a teapot. No need to worry! I shall go fetch us one at once-" he had turned to head back out the door, only to end up freezing once he was facing you. During the time he had been looking around the room, you had silently removed the jacket, discarding it onto a hook and revealing the actual dress you had on beneath it.

A simple change, really, but it did the trick. Removing the jacket initially appeared to be a small deviation but those amber hues of his had quickly settled on tracking the line of the dress as it displayed the valley of your breasts. The sight alone was enough to steal the words - and his very breath - straight from his throat and he could do nothing but simply stare for the moment. "Were you-" he began, but there was a slight break in his voice as he stammered, having to redeem his words before continuing "-were you not wearing a jacket?" He was aware he should look away but he was clearly struggling to. Even as he spoke up, he couldn't seem to divert his attention elsewhere as a rose coloring started to dust his cheeks before blooming into a deep crimson that spread all the way to the tips of his ears.

Maybe it was that flood of warmth that drew him to his senses because he physically shook his head to force himself to look anywhere but at you. In his haste, he began to pace forward, as if he'd be able to side step you to get to the door, despite the fact you were directly in front of it. "I- Um- Teapot! I shall fetch the teapot at once-"

"Stay." A clear and precise direction rose from your lips as you adjusted your weight, leaning back against the door to temporarily block his escape. The only other choice he'd have now is sticking around or diving through the glass of your window. You could only hope he still had enough of his senses not to bust out the glass, but you were slightly concerned now with the way he seemed to stagger himself back at your command. But, you did quite enjoy seeing him squirm so much since he couldn't leave yet. It made up for all the times he had ran off from you without a single word. He floundered for words in front of you at your request. You beat him to it, gesturing to the bed with a nod of your head and the sweetest smile you could form. "Sit."

He didn't. Instead, he remained rooted to his spot as his gaze flitted around the room, every so often landing back on you, down to your ample cleavage, and then darting away in his panic. Eventually, he gave up in attempting to control his stare, instead opting to physically shield his eyes as he used a hand to cover his face, his other hand coming to rest on his opposing elbow as that arm crossed over himself. He resigned himself, once again using those gorgeous locks of his to shield himself further, his hand apparently not sufficient for his needs. "I very much want to spend time with you, do not misunderstand, please. But would you please be willing to put your jacket back on?"

He spoke! Coherently, this time. You were going to take that to mean he had calmed down just enough to hopefully not burst through the door once you moved away from it. You took a chance, stepping towards him- once, twice, again. He stayed in place even as he felt your presence right in front of him, but he dared not uncover his eyes. "Why?" You feigned innocence, as if you weren't aware of what this dress was doing to him - as if you didn't know your actions were fuel to the flame of his inner turmoil.

Ferdinand hadn't caught onto your teasing as he seemed to choke on air with your question. Clearing his throat loudly, he instinctively took a step back as you tried to get in even closer. "Because!"

Because wasn't an answer. "Because why?" You persisted, continuing to step forward, step after step, moving him backwards until the back of his legs hit the edge of your bed.

Perhaps because he could no longer create distance, the flustered Paladin flopped to a sit on the mattress, in a last ditch attempt to regain some space to breathe. It was to no avail however, and he finally answered your question in a volume that was a smidge too loud to even pretend he wasn't flustered like a school boy with his first crush. "Because I am afraid I will not be able to control myself when I see you in such a state!"

Control himself, huh? It was your turn to remain silent a moment as you found a spot between his legs and you casually let you hand come to his chest, gently tracing a circle against the fabric of his outfit. "Hey, Ferdinand?" Your voice was so soft. Soft enough to have his heart jump in his chest - you could feel it beneath your palm as he swallowed, waiting with baited breath for your next words. "Do you love me?"

It was suddenly as if this entire scenario hadn't played out. They were not the words he had been expecting. But, no matter how random the question may be, if there was any single inkling of a doubt that you may have about his feelings, he was going to make sure to clear the air immediately. It was that specific motivation to reassure you that his hand finally left his face and he looked you dead on, both his hands coming to cup your cheeks. Dress and lustful thoughts, be damned. He was not going to allow you to be unsure. He was Ferdinand Von Aegir and he was not about to let the love of his life have any doubt about his passion for her. "Of course! I love you more than the sun in the sky and the breath in my lungs." His voice was as clear as a bell. And now that he was finally looking at you unobstructed and head on, you matched his honesty with your own, beaming brightly at him.

"Then I don't need you to control yourself. I love you. And I want you to look at me."

And he did, albeit hesitantly. Your words had his attention drawn back to what had him to sheepish in the first place. Wide eyes scanned your face before darting back downwards to your chest now directly before him and he had to resist the urge to cover his visage again. You had said it was okay, but it was still sinking in as he released your face from his grasp.

"Look at you, you say! Is that not rather unbecoming of me?" His heart was still thundering under you hand as he tossed out his question. But now that you had said such a desire out loud, he couldn't pull his focus from you in the slightest. You were a vision - the goddess herself could not ever hope to create something so beautiful ever again! How could she? And here you were, saying it was okay to indulge himself in such a sight?

You giggled and it was a sound that absolutely entranced him as you shook your head. "Not if you love me and not if I want you too," you assured him. And, by the goddess, did you want him too.

"Are you sure? I do not wish to upset you or do anything that would make you think less of me," he began, his voice beginning to speed through his words. He was usually a lot more assured with himself. It just reminded you how much he cared about you, if this was the one thing that got him worked up in such a way. "I can withhold myself if I must! I do not wish to force you-"

You loved his way with words. You really did. But sometimes, what you needed was action. So you made that choice for him, leaning in and stealing a kiss from his lips as well as effectively ending his line of questions. He melted under your tender kiss - his body loosened up and his eyes finally fluttered close.

The kiss seemed to unlock a flood gate within him. His emotions and longing all burst forth at once as he took you by the hips. He gained control of the kiss, letting his tongue sweep against your bottom lip before pushing past to explore. You had convinced him. If you wanted him to look at you, he would. And if you wanted him to give up his self control, he would do that too. No more reservations. He would happily be at your beck and call, so long as you wanted him to be.

All the shyness and hesitation and panic he had before was gone. In it's place was grace and confidence as his hands deftly worked to undress your body. It was actually fairly outstanding how quick of work he made of your clothes, dropping your dress and your small clothes to the ground, then followed by his own. In a blissful flurry, soon the two of you were stripped bare with your back against the bed as Ferdinand was over you, dropping a series of kisses down you soft skin.

You were in a peaceful ecstasy as he kissed down you body, his hair kept out of his face with the way your fingers coiled in the silky strands. "I love you. I love you so much," his voice was a melodic chant as he said it again and again. The vibrations of his hums in tandem with the kisses fluttering over your chest had you bursting out in soft giggles that he absolutely reveled in. After all the gawking he had done, he finally was taking his chance to enjoy the plush mounds in his hands and how utterly sweet you tasted. Your reactions to his ministrations were even better than he could ever imagine.

"I love you too," you cooed out, your back arching into the teasing kisses he provided. However, your sound was soon shifting to quiet moans as his lips found a place on the peek of your breast, tentatively sucking on the pert tip as his hand toyed with the other one. His eyes peered up at you, watching the gorgeous expressions flashing across your face with each gentle nip and playful tug. Absolutely captivating. He could stare at you forever. It was your turn to get flustered now, a sheen of pink starting to darken over your cheeks and it made him smirk against your skin.

You got back at him when you wrapped your legs around his waist and tried to rut your hips against him, causing him to pull back from you with a slight stagger. He composed himself a little, before propping himself up on his hands to look down at you. He chuckled at the whine you released from the loss of affection, but he helped distract you as one hand wrapped around your waist, dragging your hips up closer to him so your body was pressed against his girth. He was hard against you as his length pushed against your folds but he remained still as he opted to burn the sight of you into your memory. He was starting unabashedly now as he memorized your curves. Your own hands went to grip at his forearms, tugging at him gently now that you could no longer toy with his hair.

"I want you," you whined out, rubbing your hands up a little while you took the initiative to wiggle your hips against him. His length was by no means precise enough to hit the bundle of nerves that was begging for attention the way you needed to, but oh, did it make your body shiver underneath him anyway. "You ran away so much already. Don't make me wait any longer."

You were trying to coax him, and the way his cock twitched against you was a clear indicator it was working. However, he had suddenly developed the patience of a saint as he gave a breathy chuckle and shook his head. "Forgive me, my love," he murmured softly, eyes returning to meet your face, soaking in that needy expression of yours. "Give me but a moment. My heart is beating so fast I am afraid I may faint. Actually, I am so happy I may just die," he corrected himself as he took your hand in his and brought it over his heart once more. You could feel his pulse. It was skittering underneath your hand and it soothed you, despite how fast it was. He claimed he could die, but that heart beat was real and Ferdinand was all yours. You turned it on him, instead dragging his hand to your chest, letting him feel the way your own heart was racing. He may have a better way of articulating that, but all in all you felt the same.

He understood that as his warm hand lingered on your skin. "You…." He opened his mouth to speak, but he had trouble finding the corrected words. His hand drifted downwards and he quickly positioned you so you were straddling on top of his thighs with his length position against your dripping entrance. He hunched his back, only so he could bury his face against your chest, getting a better listen of your driving pulse. It was that sound that coaxed out the rest of his words in such a hushed voice you barely caught it. He spoke in a whisper, as if anything louder would break the precious treasure he held in his hands. "You are the best thing that has ever happened to me."

A sweet ecstasy shot through you as he finally pushed inside, prompting a sultry moan from your lips while your body squeezed around him. He clung onto your hips to hold you still as he deliberately thrust inside of you, diving in as deep as he could go. He wanted you close - as close as you could possibly be. Your name became a quiet mantra that he purred against you, his warm breath fanning over you skin. He wanted to get lost in your body, cave into the sensation of your warmth clamping down on him, sopping wet.

Your own body bounced and writhed on top of him as he picked up speed, his own feverish lust dictating the need for a faster pace. It caused the bed to creak underneath you, the sound accompanied by the slap of skin against skin. His hand snuck up your waist, instead tracing up your back until his fingers sprawled out on the back your shoulder. He used his arm to anchor you against him as he took over, wanting to let you pause work and instead bask in the feeling of every inch penetrating deep into your core. And as an aide, his other hand snaked between you bodies, sprawling out on your lower stomach for stability before his thumb grazed over that neglected clit of yours. The instant he began to play with it sent jolts of electricity bounding through you.

He wanted to burst, but being the proper gentleman he was, he held out. Besides, he held your pleasure far above his own. He wasn't going to leave this bedroom if you were unsatisfied. But judging by the coos and moans bubbling out of you, he was doing a splendid job of stretching out your gorgeous body. He fed off your reactions, letting your sounds and the way your thighs trembled around him guide his movement. His pleasure was climbing high with yours. "You feel so so good," he panted against you, his words of encouragement sending your heart fluttering as your head lobbed back. "Not even in my best dreams-" his words separated by pants and grunts, feeling the quiver around his cock as he pushed you closer to that edge "-could my thoughts begin to rival you and how…. Utterly outstanding you are."

There it was. The next deep thrust was punctuated with the pressure his thumb put onto your clit and it had you spiraling. You cried out for him, just as his own orgasm hit as well, sending a hot gush spreading through your body through your spasms. Euphoria danced through each of you as you clung to each other as if for dear life. He dropped your hips fully down over his, remaining buried inside of you while your both your highs ran their course through your system.

Your head dropped, resting onto his shoulder as you caught your breath, feeling his hand slowly start to soothe over you back. He remained silent save for his own labored pants as he cradled your body close. Your name eventually got your attention, as his hand came to rest in your hair and you looked up at him with a glassy gaze he would remember for eternity. "I love you."

"And I love you, Ferdinand Von Aegir."

[heartbreakweathervinyl]

It’s 11pm and I’m almost late to the party but I’M NOT.

Here’s my Narry fic for Harry’s birthday which is a coffeeshop!au and one of my better works if I do say so myself (big thanks to my lovely gc for helping me out with the wording :*).

Read on ao3

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Ever since Harry first stepped foot into a coffee shop, he fell in love with the calm and quiet atmosphere and the variety of people spending their time in this peaceful haven. It almost seemed magical that however hectic it might be on the other side of the entrance, as soon as you enter the building everything quietens down and the stress is kept outside.

If he were to count every hour he had spent in a coffee shop the last 24 years, it would add up to be a very high number.

It wasn’t a surprise to anyone who knew him to hear about his decision to work at his favourite, cozy coffee shop right in the centre of town. To be completely honest, it didn’t pay that well and sometimes there was a customer who believed he’d gotten a different coffee to the one he ordered just because it didn’t taste the way the ones tasted at all the disgustingly expensive chain shops.

No, “Hugs With Mugs” was an overly old-fashioned shop that refused to use the latest and most modern machinery for brewing coffee. That’s exactly why most of the customers were regulars, stopping by almost every day to buy the usual coffee and Harry could recall almost all of their names which he was very proud of. He’d also learnt that regular customers appreciated him already knowing their name and order, creating a familiar atmosphere.

Whenever the little bell above the door rang to announce the entrance of another customer, Harry’s head shot up from his work and a smile spread across his face as soon as he saw who it was. It was something his boss complimented him for and it became completely normal for Harry to get his long hair ruffled in praise.

Today turned out to be a slow day. Snow was falling feather like from the sky, coating the streets and buildings in a layer of white and those who didn’t need to go outside, stayed home, leaving the “Hugs With Mugs” almost empty.

Harry was swaying from left to right, listening to the soft music coming from the speakers from all around the shop and making sure the customers who had decided to leave the safety of their homes were content. The clock on the wall above the trusty coffee brewer ticked by, showing it was nearing 10am which usually marked prime time but not today.

He was cleaning the dishes - mostly mugs - when suddenly the door opened, making the bell above it ring and letting in the cold from outside for just a second before a man had entered and closed the door quickly.

Without thinking about it, Harry looked up, smile already forming on his lips to greet the customer but it almost fell instantly. He had never seen this guy with brown hair and startling blue eyes but he sure hoped he’d see him again and again and maybe a fourth time.

The corners of the man’s eyes crinkled because of his dazzling smile while he made his way over to the counter where Harry stood frozen, too shocked by the man’s beauty to think about what he was supposed to do.

‘Act normal, Harold’ he scolded himself, shaking his head curtly and putting the mug he had just cleaned next to other ones while hanging the dishcloth on the hanger. Except- the other way around. The mug fell down and shattered into a thousand pieces all across the floor behind the counter.

“Shit!” Harry cursed. He was about to bend down but a quick shout of “Whoa, what’d you think you’re doing, mate?” made him straighten up again and look over to the man on the other side of the wooden counter who, Harry had noticed instantly, spoke with an Irish accent. He regarded Harry with a disbelieving look as if to ask what the hell was wrong with the barista.

“Ehm”, Harry stuttered out, fidgeting with his fingers. He couldn’t believe how nervous the man made him. Yeah, whenever there was an attractive person talking to him, he was a bit speechless but he’d never felt nervous or was this clumsy. “Cleaning up?” he answered, making it sound like a question.

“Maybe use a broom instead of your hands. Might be less bloody” the brown haired man suggested with a slight smirk, making Harry feel a blush rising to his cheeks. He nodded.

“Of course” he mumbled but decided to clean up after serving the customer. “What can I get you?” he asked.

The guy chuckled lowly before ordering a large white filter coffee. Classical.

“And who’s the coffee for?” Harry asked, taking a paper cup and pen to write the man’s name on it. He couldn’t deny the curiosity he felt about getting to know the name of this pretty man.

“Batman.”

The pen stayed hovering above the cup. Harry frowned and looked up in confusion to see a bright smile and amusedly shining eyes. The man watched him with anticipation and a slightly cocked head.

“Excuse me?” the barista asked to make sure he had heard correctly.

“You can write Batman on it. That way I know it’s my coffee and not someone else’s who’s got the same name, you know?” came the explanation and okay- it’s a plausible thought but why the name of a superhero and not one of a normal person?

Too dumbfounded to question it any more, Harry decided to just suck it up and write Batman on the cup. Then he proceeded to brew the guy’s coffee while “Batman” counted his money to pay for the drink. He slid over a few notes and told Harry to keep the change - Harry wasn’t sure if he had imagined the wink that followed those words. He probably did.

When the coffee was ready and put into the cup, Harry put the lid on it and placed it on the counter for the man to take. “Here you go, Batman. Save the world, will you?” he joked with a smile.

Batman laughed, shook his head and mumbled while turning around to go: “I’ll save the world for you, babe.”

If Harry choked and almost fell into the pieces of mug on the floor, nobody had the right to judge him.

—-

Weeks went by and every day Batman stopped by to buy a large white filter coffee To Go and he soon became another regular. But never ever did Harry learn this stranger’s, who was and wasn’t a stranger at the same time, name. Every day he’d walk up to Harry’s counter, ordering his coffee and coming up with a different name after Harry asked him who the coffee was for, always hoping to finally find out the pretty boy’s real name. He never did.

He had to admit he liked the variety of names. They were mostly superhero names like Batman on the first day, Flash and Superwoman but also names of Disney characters like Simba and Pinocchio. Sometimes they were common names, for example Joseph and it could have been his real name of course but Harry always thought the name didn’t suit his pretty stranger.

Oh yeah, he started referring to him as his pretty stranger and Louis and Liam, his friends, started to get annoyed by his crush about two days after his first meeting with the man.

Today was Harry’s birthday though and he decided to force his pretty stranger to tell him his real name.

And so it went.

The brown haired man entered “Hugs With Mugs” at around 10am and marched up to the counter where Harry waited for him like every day.

“The usual?” he asked and the man with the sparkling blue eyes nodded, already taking out his money.

“You know,” Harry started while turning on the coffee machine and taking out a paper cup and pen, “it’s my birthday today.

Batman looked up in surprise. “Is it now? How old?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know” Harry laughed. “How old do you think I am?”

“Someone looking like you do is probably immortal and stays beautiful for the rest of their life but is actually like a 1000 years old.”

Harry blinked in confusion. “I don’t know if that’s supposed to be a compliment.”

His pretty stranger just laughed and shook his head. “For you, that’s a compliment. Happy birthday, H.”

And- okay. Harry wore a name tag so it didn’t come as a surprise that Batman knew his name but where did that nickname come from? He liked it, he really did but it came unexpected is all.

“Thank you. You know what I want for my birthday?” he asked and the blue eyed man shook his head, looking back into his own green ones while waiting for an elaboration.

“To know your real name. I want to be able to call you by your real name and not just my pr- eh, Batman or whatever name you thought of that day.” Harry almost revealed his secret little crush but was able to just hold back.

His pretty stranger seemed to think for a second before his eyes lit up and he smiled right at Harry which made said barista feel almost dizzy. “You know what? I think I’ll drink my coffee here today. Could you bring it over to the table when it’s ready?” he asked, ignoring Harry’s words completely. It made Harry feel almost... sad? But he nodded anyways, turning away from Batman to finish his order.

Instead of a paper cup, he took a ceramic mug and filled it with coffee, adding milk and finishing it off with a biscuit. He put it all on a tablet and turned towards the tables where he found his pretty stranger sitting on the other side of the shop, right next to the big window. Coughing away the cramped up emotions in his throat, he made his way through the other customers and towards Batman.

“Here you go” Harry said, putting the tablet down without looking at the blue eyed man and nodding after he heard him say a cheerful “thanks”. He walked back to the counter with long strides and made sure to keep busy while purposefully ignoring his pretty stranger.

About half an hour later, Harry looked up, having heard the ringing of the bell above the door. He could just see the telltale brown hair and the black coat of Batman before the door closed behind him, cutting the shop off of the outside once more.

With a sigh, Harry slowly walked back over to the table the pretty boy sat at to clean up the mug and tablet. While doing so he couldn’t help but notice a piece of paper Batman must’ve forgotten and Harry know -he knows okay?- that he shouldn’t read it but his curiousity was bigger than his sense of what’s right so he did what needed to be done and read the paper.

What he didn’t expect was for it to be addressed to Harry himself.

‘Happy birthday, H.

You have to excuse my terrible sense of humour and my disgusting love for being mysterious. Sometimes I just don’t know when to stop but I think it’s time to take off my mask (I’m a big superhero fan if you haven’t noticed already).

Anyways, it’s your birthday today and birthday boys aren’t allowed to spend their evening alone. You’d make me the happiest person alive if you let me take you out on a date tonight.

Here’s my number if you’ve decided to forgive my game of playing the mysterious customer I’ve always wanted to be: *insert phone number here*

Love,

Niall’

And Harry smiled because he finally got to know his pretty stranger’s real name.

[1358456]

Short Story - The Question

For White’s (and Black’s) birthday!

“So, when are you going to marry Black?” Four people have asked that question. And White had choked on her drink every time. But… what if Black also asks that question?

Aspertia City, Unova, 12 pm…

White sat on the bench at the top of the Aspertia Outlook, enjoying the peaceful sight of Route 19 provided by the calm, beautiful weather. The slight breeze was cool and refreshing, and formed the perfect balance with the warm sunlight.

White stretched her arms and legs, trying to enjoy as much of the peacefulness as possible before she had to unfortunately return to business. She checked for the time. … It was currently noon, so she had about an hour for lunch with a friend before she had to head to Pokéstar Studios.

“Ah, there you are,” came a voice from behind a few minutes later.

White glanced back and saw Cheren climbing the final steps to reach the peak of Aspertia Outlook. She smiled and waved. “Yep. Just enjoying the calm weather.”

“Were you waiting for long?” Cheren asked as he approached her.

“No. And honestly, not long enough. I love the peacefulness here,” she said after taking a deep breath. “So, are you ready?”

“Yeah. Let’s go.”

White followed Cheren as he led her towards the restaurant in front of the Gym. The place wasn’t too big or fancy, but White had been there a few times before, and the food was great. And this was just for lunch, so she didn’t want a big feast either.

“So Cheren,” White began as she took her seat in the restaurant and set her food down on the table. “How are the Gym and the Trainer’s School going? And how are things with the other Unova Gym Leaders?”

“Ah, the Gym’s going great,” Cheren replied. “The Trainer’s School… well, this batch of kids is kind of unruly. None of them seem particularly talented in battling, but I guess time will tell for sure. And it’s the same as usual with the other Gym Leaders. I’m still the rookie of the club, if you will.”

“But you’ve been the Aspertia Gym Leader for like 10 years now,” White commented after swallowing a mouthful of salad. “You’re a veteran!”

“Yeah, but I’m still the newest one. Until someone retires and a new guy steps in, I’ll always be “the new guy”, no matter how long it’s been. Now, about you. How’ve you been? What’ve you been up to that’s new?”

White waved a hand. “Same stuff, different day. BW Agency promotions are going all over the place, and the Pokéstar Studios is not really doing that amazing, but not failing at the same time. So… same old, same old. The only real interesting thing I’ve been doing would be just traveling to the other regions, meeting friends there and… yeah. It’s probably what Black is doing right now in Kanto.”

“Like meeting your other Dex Holder friends?”

White nodded. “Yeah. For me, it’s always fun going to Sinnoh or Kalos to visit Lady Platinum or Y and just hanging out.” She let out a short cough and began to take a long sip of water.

Cheren watched her expression for a bit and smiled, causing her to pause mid-sip and look over at him, wondering why he was smiling at her like that.

“So, when are you going to marry Black?”

White’s eyes opened wide in shock for a moment and air and water got caught in her throat as she tried to respond, causing her to choke. She coughed violently for a bit before quickly recovering. “Wh – What?! … How did our conversation suddenly become…”

Cheren shrugged. “It’s not really that sudden. It’s about time, honestly. Everyone can see it. I’d ask Black about it, but he’s not here in Unova at the moment, but you are, so… I’ll ask you. When are you going to marry Black?”

White’s cheeks flared up in embarrassment and she squirmed in her seat. “I… um… I don’t know. I’m not really thinking about that… And I don’t even know what he… um… I – I don’t know.”

“Black returns to Unova in… what, a week? So you have a bit of time to ponder about it, I suppose.” He smiled at her again. “But I think both you and Black would be really happy. So… do consider it.”

White coughed awkwardly and calmed down her blush. “Y – Yeah…”

…

2 hours later, Nimbasa City, 2 pm…

…

White waited patiently while Elesa finished with her business in the fashion runway that she called her Gym. Elesa soon came out of the Gym wearing her “casual” clothes, which still seemed far too fancy for an average person.

“Ah, there you are,” she said, spotting White idling near the entrance. “Sorry. Things took a bit longer than expected.”

“That’s okay.” White showed her the folder she was carrying. “All the details about the next event we have planned for here in Nimbasa City are in there. I think you’ll like it!”

Elesa opened the folder and read some of the details on the first page. She slowly nodded in content and smiled. “I think you’re right. But come, let’s go to a café and discuss it out. I’d love to hear the details from you too.”

White followed her to the nearest café and got herself a cup of iced tea while Elesa got a cup of iced coffee. And for a while, White proceeded to describe the details of the planned event while Elesa read the documents and asked questions.

“And with that, we can estimate the event revenue to be about 45% more than the revenue of the Musical event we did last year, but with only a 10% increase in expenses.”

Elesa nodded as she finished reading the document. “That’s great. It’ll be an amazing event.”

“It certainly will be,” White said after a relieved sigh. Her throat was beginning to feel dry thanks to her talking nonstop for a while, so she raised her cup of iced tea and began drink slowly.

“So,” Elesa began abruptly. White paused mid-sip and looked over at her. “… When are you going to marry Black?”

White almost jumped and began to choke on the iced tea. She coughed extra violently while she desperately wanted to respond. “… What?! How did our conversation turn into this?!”

Elesa glanced at the folder on the table. “Some of the events you listed reminded me of a wedding I attended not too long ago, and that just got me thinking, is all.” She narrowed her eyes teasingly and leaned forward. “And I also happen to know just how much you looooove Black. I would think that it’s inevitable.”

“I – I’m not thinking about that,” White stammered out, her face turning red. “B – Besides! Black’s opinion on this matters greatly too! Maybe once he returns to Unova, we can think about it. But until then…”

Elesa chuckled. “Aha, very embarrassed, are we? Isn’t that cute… But very well. But when you do marry him, do invite me, please.”

White embarrassedly stared into her cup of iced tea. “Y – Yeah…” She shook her head. “A – Anyways. I already had to deal with this thanks to Cheren. Let’s change subjects and keep it that way.”

“Oh? The rookie asked the question too? Interesting. But all right. In that case, tell me: how have you been doing lately?”

…

1 hour later, Mistralton City, 3 pm…

…

Skyla examined the list provided and checked the items’ specifications. She briefly thought about the fleet of planes available in the Mistralton Airport and soon nodded.

“Yeah. This’ll work. Unless you need to add about 500 kg of additional materials all of a sudden, there aren’t any foreseen complications. We’ll be able to deliver all of your materials to Nimbasa City.”

“That’s certainly a relief. For this week’s delivery, I think this’ll suffice,” White said with a sigh. “I’ll probably need more stuff delivered to Nimbasa for the event, but that’ll be spread out throughout the month and nothing that needs immediate delivery.”

Skyla nodded. “Great. Now, is there anything else?”

White shook her head. “No, that’s all.”

Skyla briefly glanced down at White’s hands just as she started to take a sip from her water bottle.

“Huh. I still don’t see a ring. … So… when are you going to marry Black?”

White began to choke on the water. “Oh come on, you too?!”

“Other people have been asking that question too?”

White wiped away the water from her mouth and tried to fight off the blush on her cheeks. “Why does everyone keep asking that? First Cheren, then Elesa, and now you?”

Skyla let out a laugh. “I can see Elesa asking that question. And the rookie did as well, huh? I guess that just means everyone can see it and think it’s inevitable. So… when are you?”

“I – I don’t know! It’s… not something I can decide on a whim, or on my own!”

“Aww, you’re cute when you’re flustered,” Skyla noted amusedly. “But yeah, I guess we’ll just have to wait until Black comes back, huh?”

White shuddered at the thought. That would be so embarrassing… … But was it really inevitable?

…

4 hours later, Castelia City, 7 pm…

…

White let out a quiet groan and leaned against the table in Café Sonata. It had been a long, tiring day… just like any other day. Flying all around Unova to handle the various tasks for BW Agency and Pokéstar Studios was always tiring. But necessary. And now that the day was over, she was free to rest for the night. … Except she didn’t want to fly home at the moment, and instead, wanted some time to rest up a bit first.

“White? Is that you?” came a familiar voice from behind.

White pushed herself off of the table and looked over, and spotted Bianca walking towards her with a friendly wave. White waved back and stifled a yawn as Bianca sat on the chair across the table from her.

“Hi, Bianca. What are you doing here?”

“I was nearby running an errand for Prof. Juniper and I wanted to get something to drink before heading back. What about you? … You look so tired.”

White groaned. “I am tired. I’ve been all over Unova today doing this and that… I’m just catching my breath here before going home for the night.”

“Oh, have you heard from Black recently?” Bianca asked. “He said he’s coming back a couple of days early.”

White sat up straighter. “Huh. That’s news to me. That’s good. It’s been a while since we last saw him.” She reached for her cup of fruit juice as she thought about his return. “I guess we should plan some sort of welcome back party…”

She slowly took a sip and suddenly noticed that Bianca was staring at her intently. White paused mid-sip as she suddenly felt as if she knew what was going to happen next.

“So… when are you going to marry Black?” Bianca asked in a serious tone.

White almost jumped and began to choke on the fruit juice. “… I – I knew it…”

Bianca blinked. “Huh? What do you mean?”

“… Everyone’s been asking me that today,” White said in an annoyed tone. “First Cheren, then Elesa, then Skyla, and now you…”

Bianca laughed. “Oh wow, I’m late, then!” She returned to her serious expression in a heartbeat. “But still. I really think you should ask him when he comes back. I mean, I think he’ll be really happy. And you’ll be really happy too. After all, you two love and care for each other so much.”

White grumbled something under her breath while a blush crept up to her cheeks regardless. “… Maybe…”

“I think Black’s been waiting for it too. He’s probably been waiting for the best time, but… what better time than his return party? He said that he wanted to go somewhere fancy with you, so that’s the opportunity, right there. … I mean, you do want to marry him some day, right?”

White timidly stared at the cup of juice in her hands. “… Yeah, but… … I don’t know…”

“Don’t worry about it. You’ll both be so much happier! And you still have a few days before Black comes back, so you have time to make up your mind.”

White scratched at her cheek. “… Maybe it is about time Black and I discuss it… Especially since everyone else is asking about it…” She thought about how the question would be asked, and suddenly shuddered and swallowed nervously. Black wasn’t even here and already she was getting nervous and anxious. … The wait was going to be very hard.

…

Several days later, Castelia City, 6 pm…

…

White gulped nervously as she sat down at the table Black had reserved ahead of time. Black sat across the table from her, and appeared very happy and relaxed.

The restaurant was a quite fancy (and expensive) one, so White could tell that this dinner was going to be a special occasion, and not just a dinner with a friend on a welcome back “party”. As such, White had opted to wear a nice black dress instead of her casual clothes, and Black was wearing a bit more formal attire than normal.

“This place is so… expensive,” White began nervously. “I’m surprised you made a reservation here. … What’s the occasion?”

“You’ll see later,” Black said teasingly.

The waiter soon came around and the two Dex Holders made their orders. White ordered something cheap while Black got one of the most expensive courses.

“Are you sure you can even afford that?” White asked incredulously. “… You’re not still trying to “renew” that old debt, are you?”

Black chuckled and waved a hand. “No, no. It’s fine, Miss President. I got this.”

White raised an eyebrow but decided to not ask about it. She wanted to ask a few questions, but couldn’t bring herself to voice them, for the fear that she’d be interrupting what Black had in mind.

Her mind began to race. Was Black actually going to ask that question? Or did she have to ask the question? Did Cheren or Bianca tell him about their conversation with her a few days ago? … Did Black make the reservation in this restaurant so that he could ask the question in the proper setting, or did he simply set up the atmosphere for her to ask the question?

… And if Black was the one to ask, how was he going to ask? White had so many possible scenarios popping up in her mind. Did Black have a ring in his pocket? Did he set it up with the restaurant so that White’s drink would come with the ring inside? Or maybe in the appetizer? … Great. Now she had to meticulously scan her food and drink, in the fear that she may accidentally swallow the ring or something.

But what if Black didn’t have any of this planned, and was waiting for her to ask the question? She didn’t have a plan of approach, and she didn’t want to just blurt out the question. That wasn’t romantic or special at all!

“Something wrong, Miss President?” Black asked, noticing her troubled expression.

White snapped out of her thoughts and shook her head. “N – No. It’s nothing.”

And just like that, her imagination went off again, conjuring up all sorts of possible scenarios that Black may have planned. The food soon arrived and White carefully scanned her food to make sure nothing metallic was in them. She had a glass of water for the drink, which made it very easy to see if there was anything inside, which there was not.

Black didn’t say anything and instead, just simply observed her expression with a smile. White caught his gaze and slightly frowned, wondering just what in the hell he was planning. He wasn’t saying anything so was he waiting for her to initiate a conversation?

White swallowed the food in her mouth and made up her mind. “So… can you tell me what the special occasion is, that you’d reserve this very fancy and expensive restaurant?

Black chuckled. “It’s nothing much, really. While I was over in Kanto, I ran into our Sinnoh seniors, who were there for a visit as well. And one thing led to another, and let’s just say that I ended up winning a bet that suddenly allowed me to be able to afford dinner at a place like this.”

White blinked as she felt as if all of the scenarios in her mind just shattered apart. “… You won a bet with Lady Platinum, and she gave you money? And is that the occasion you’re celebrating?”

Black nodded. “Yeah. And I always wanted to give this place a try, so… here we are! It’s great, isn’t it?”

White felt her cheeks flaring in embarrassment. And not in a good way. … She felt so stupid right now, nervously and anxiously waiting for something that Black wasn’t even considering in the slightest. She stifled a sigh and grabbed the glass of water. She felt burning up inside. She needed a drink to cool down.

‘I feel so damn stupid…’ she thought as she brought the glass up to her lips. ‘I mean, what was I expecting? Black’s more of a straight-forward type, and not someone who’d plan something elaborate…’

White began to chug the water out of frustration. And as she did so, she noticed that Black had shifted his position a bit, and he appeared to be sitting up a bit straighter. And he was observing her expression carefully. And very soon, their eyes met. He suddenly smiled, causing her to pause mid-sip.

“So,” he began casually. “… When are you going to marry me?”

White gasped and immediately started choking on the water… again. For a few seconds, she coughed and she felt as if her mind had just crashed. Here she was, berating herself for expecting something that wasn’t going to happen, and then it happened anyways!

“Wh – What?!” she coughed out. “How did…”

Black shrugged. “It’s something I’ve been meaning to ask all day, really. And I think it’s about time we discussed it too.” He eyed her bewildered expression and began to fiddle with something below the table, as if he was sending someone a message on a device. “I guess you weren’t expecting the question to pop out like this. In that case…”

White suddenly heard something vibrating from inside her bag. “… What did you…”

“You should check your email,” Black said with a grin.

White reached into her bag to retrieve her device and saw that she had received an email from Black. She opened it and saw that it was just one little image. It was a cute cartoony version of himself, with his hands cupping over his mouth, as if the little Black was going to shout something. And next to that image were written the words: “MARRY ME!!” along with a drawn image of a small engagement ring.

And for a while, White simply stared at the email, partly panicking for finally being asked the question, and partly very disappointed in how the question was asked in the least romantic way imaginable. … This was certainly not what she had in mind, in the slightest!

Black chuckled as White’s expression became more and more puzzled.

“This was all a part of a plan,” he said, causing her to look at him confusedly. “I asked the senior Dex Holders for some advice. Red suggested in simplicity. Keep it simple. Blue drew that little image, and suggested that I at least take you to somewhere very nice. Gold suggested in an ambush style question. He said it’s not really exciting if you are expecting the question, so I should purposely disappoint you first so that you are not expecting it. And I think I managed with that lie.”

“… There was no bet, was there?” White asked, still too stunned and disappointed and baffled for emotions. “… Lady Platinum just gave you the money so that you would take me out here in this fancy place.”

“Yeah. She wished me luck,” Black answered. “… Everyone else wished me luck too.”

White let out an explosive sigh as she lowered her head. “… Everyone is expecting it…” she muttered quietly, as a small smile formed on her lips.

Black’s expression turned serious. “So… what’s your answer?” he asked intently. “… Will you?”

White glanced at her device again and at the drawn image. She then thought about the same question her four friends have asked, as if they all shared the same mind. She then thought about the senior Dex Holders and their wishes for her, and noticed that the smile on her lips was growing bigger. She couldn’t help but chuckle as her worries and concerns vanished. At this point, there was only one possible answer.

With a happy smile, she reached over towards him and slowly kissed him on the mouth. She then looked into his eyes and kept her smile until he knew the answer. She gently rubbed his cheeks with her hands and whispered the answer anyways.

“Of course I will…”

[whatzaoverwatch]

The Demon’s Bride (Part 8)

Oh shit it finally here! The wedding! Rejoice and clap! Hopefully I did the ceremony justice (god Japanese weddings what were you). You guys are probably thinking that it is probably nearing the end right? Not at all, if anything: we are about halfway done. So enjoy First Previous Next

Note: Female Pronouns

The sun rose on the fateful day. A day that the clan had waited to arrive for years. The wedding was about to take place. You could feel the tension among the servants as they were each given a specific job for the wedding. Everything had to be perfect, after all, this was the marriage of their Lord.

You were awakened far earlier than normal by the sound of knocking on your door. One by one, handmaidens would enter in with swift moments to handle their position. Some guided you to be bathed, to brush your hair, to dressing you in the white kimono, to even doing your makeup. You didn’t have to lift a finger whatsoever in this endeavor. Out of your entire experience within the Shimada castle, this was the most royal treatment you had been blessed with. Almost as if you had become a goddess overnight.

Hours went by of the constant development of your form until you were finally taking shape of an actual bride. Carefully eyeing each of them as they added more detail into your attire, you couldn’t help but be amazed by their detail. From the headdress bestowed upon your head, to the few layers of cherry blossoms woven into your kimono. Seeing the completed piece in front of the mirror almost made you cry.

You looked absolutely stunning. At the beginning of this journey, you were merely a fisherman’s daughter, betrothed to a demon. Here you were now with the appearance of a Queen. Your hair was done up through the head piece as your makeup complimented the purity of your form. Almost as if an angel was to be married to a demon. You couldn’t help but wonder how Hanzo would think of your attire.

Just imagining being by his side during the ceremony suddenly sent butterflies through your stomach. This was finally happening, you were marrying Hanzo and you were nervous and excited. Even with the events of yesterday were cast aside from this very moment.

“We are ready my Lady.” One of the servants informed you as you were guided out of your bedroom.

That room was no longer to be yours, for afterwards you would join Hanzo in his own. Not that it hadn’t happened before. Given that moment when you tended to his side. But there was nothing to hold back once you two were in privacy. However those thoughts had to be brushed aside, for the ceremony was about to begin.

You were guided by a set of handmaidens. Some either holding lanterns or keeping an eye on your kimono if you were to trip. The walk seemed to have taken forever, it was along the path towards the shrine that was near the forest. You hadn’t visited the shrine and no one was allowed near it. But given how it was used for important ceremonies, it was fair to abide to the law.

As you and the group were guided down the path, you saw in the corner of your eye the flash of green once more. Knowing that Genji was near to observe the ceremony. But his warning suddenly came back to you. Why was he so intent on making you leave? Did he assume that Hanzo would end up murdering you like his father did long ago? He promised you he wouldn’t. Did Genji see something you didn’t? Shaking away your thoughts when the green faded away, you walked down the path until you reached the gates to the shrines.

The sanctum was so peaceful, as the shrine blended into the forest with its aged architecture. Not a single piece of the forest touched the shrine as it remained cleansed and pure to the eye. It was a holy place, even if it was cherished by demons. The gates opened and the lantern handmaidens stepped aside. Bowing as you stepped in with one deep breath.

The inside was filled with ancient artistry that looked as if it told the history of the Shimada family. A long hall that lead to a table on the other end. Standing there were the Elders and what seemed to be some kind of priest. Just next to the priest was the very man that you were to marry.

Hanzo, dressed in a black kimono that seemed to form the pattern of storm clouds and demons within the pattern. Parallel to the scales within the pattern of your dress. His hair more groomed in its classic ponytail tied in a darker ribbon. His grey skin stood out within the garments alongside his red marks. Those clear coated eyes that made you tremble suddenly looked at you with complete softness.

Although his expression remained stoic, his gaze spoke a thousand words. Behind those horns and jagged teeth was a man who fell madly in love with you. One who once loathed not only your kind, but half of his heritage, now saw you as someone he wanted to have by his side for the rest of his days. You were unsure if you could live as long as him, but you desired to live with him enough to make him happy.

Walking down the hall, your steps echoing the hall as you approached your soon to be husbands side. The shrines door closing to bring privacy to just the occupants inside. Your eyes only set on Hanzo and him alone. It was as if it was just the both of you in the shrine alone. You made a formal bow, only for him to cease your action with his hand.

“You will no longer have to bow to me Lady [Name],” You felt your heart race as he took your hand with an informing nod, “You are my bride, and soon to be wife. I wish to see you as my equal.”

You couldn’t help but smile at that, unaware of the Elders surprised looks of his notion. Squeezing his hand gently, you hummed in agreement.

“I am honoured, to be your wife Lord Hanzo.” You could tell he wished to smile at that statement.

But the hinted blush on his cheeks was the only closest thing to a response that you were going to get. The moment was suddenly interrupted by the clearing of the throat from the priest.

“May we begin the ceremony?” The questioned with a hiss to his tone. Hanzo nodded to the priest as he began his work.

“Today we are gathered in Shimada tradition to seal the sacred bond between the mortals,” the priest began as he gestured to you and then to Hanzo, “And the demons. To prosper the clan and to bring peace among the land. The choosing of a human, pure of the soul, as an offering to the demon lord. Let us begin the sacred vows.”

The priest continued onto his speech as he proceeded to follow the very traditions of an old fashion wedding as you could remember. Purifying both the bride and groom (despite one being an actual demon), to offering the union between the both of you towards the gods. The Shimadas gods being more of the demon brothers that ruled their land long ago. In the art behind the priest you had notice the image of the two demons dancing in the sky. Within their red scales you had noticed the familiar patterns of blue and green. Much the same between Hanzo and Genji’s spirits.

Afterwards, one of the Elders stepped up with what seemed to be an ancient bottle of sake alongside a set of cups. Filling them in front of the both of you and stepping away.

“We will now end the ceremony with the bride and groom drinking from each cup. To seal their bond officially,” The priest turned to the Elders for a moment who shook their head. Seeing the priest grimace for a second before facing both of you, “It is tradition for the parents to join within the ceremony. However, with Lord Hanzos parents no longer with us, the Elders felt it was fair that Lady [Name]s parents didn’t attend this part of the ceremony.”

Your face dropped with a bit of hurt. You understood how it was hard for Hanzo to not have his parents around, but why were you unable to see yours? Now that you thought of it, you hadn’t been able to speak to them since your departure. You recalled how your old caretaker mentioned that you wouldn’t be seeing your parents often with your title, but you would’ve at least been grateful to see them on the most important day of your life.

Hanzos hand suddenly squeezed yours as you were in a trance of your thoughts. Turning to see his worried expression in his eyes.

“Are you alright?” He asked softly, not loud enough for the others to hear.

Clearing your mind, you nodded to him with a squeeze to his hand in return. His claws were merely gentle to the touch, and his skin that you once believed was cold was actually warm.

Each of you took your cups and drank from them. The faint but bitter taste of the alcohol burned the back of your throat. For what was a brew from years ago, it still held up to its taste. Once you both completed your drinks, the priest waved his staff towards the sky and bowed.

“The ceremony is complete, the gods now have accepted your bonds. You shall from now on be Lord and Lady Shimada.” The priest, along with the four Elders, all bowed as one to the both of you.

The fluttering in the pit of your stomach subsided as the marriage was now complete. The priest began to guide the Elders out the door, as the banquet was about to be ready for your arrival. You still held close to Hanzo as he walked alongside you towards the doors. Noticing that Hanzo slowed down, you heard his voice close to your ear.

“Forgive me, it was not my say to leave your parents out of the ceremony,” Hanzo told you having you turn to face him, “Unfortunately they also insisted that they would not attend the banquet either.”

“But why? They are my parents, I should at least see them myself right?” You saw his lower his head with a bit of guilt before speaking.

“As I had told them the same. But given the Shimadas history with humans, they felt that it wouldn’t be safe for mortals to attend with demons that no longer trust humanity.”

“Even if their Lord has changed their mind on my kind?” He closed his eyes for a moment and held you a bit tighter.

“You and my mother are the parts of humanity I can forgive, however I cannot forgive the rest of them for their actions,” He faced you and halted his movements once the both of you were just by the door, “I promised to you that I would understand you. But I won’t turn away from what they have done. There are demons who will not stop at trying to harm humans. For your parents sake, it will be safer that they do not attend.”

You lowered your head as you could feel a bit of pain in your heart. He was right, you were only a portion of humanity. You couldn’t convince all of them to change like Hanzo did. It still hurt that you were unable to see them once again. So much for this ceremony to be the bond of peace between humans and demons. Taking a deep breath, you held him a bit closer with a whisper.

“Promise me, that I will be able to see them again.” You quietly asked.

Knowing it wasn’t possible for you to leave the walls, you had at least hoped that you would see them once. You suddenly felt his finger curl under your chin to tilt it upwards. Having your gaze set onto his eyes. His gaze glowing in contrast to his skin and attire. Looking into your soul as you felt your heart race. His face close to yours for the first time.

“I will see to it that you will see them. That is my promise to you as your husband, my beloved.”

In a sudden spur, you felt his lips press softly against yours. Surprised by him providing you with such a gentle form of affection. Your red lips heating against his fangs. Imagination of kissing Hanzo was nothing in comparison to the real thing. A sway of the breeze brushed against the white scales of your kimono. You could feel his spirits wrapping around you. Inviting you into their hearts as they forever vowed to protect you. He left the kiss to sudden, leaving you to breathe out in amazement. Fluttering your eyes open to his gaze, you couldn’t help but smile.

“Thank you…” You whispered gently. Feeling his heartbeat ever so close until he straightened his posture. Guiding you out of the shrine.

“Come, it is time that the world are introduced to my wife.” He declared to you with a gentle smirk. Letting him take your hand as the two of you walk back towards the castle.

The flickering flash of green came from the forest, faded into a shade of red.

To be continued

[mascaracoffee]

Little Man -Steve Rogers Imagine-

She loved him first, even when he was the little guy.

*Set Pre-serum and Post-serum WWII*

I sighed heavily tapping my polished white heel against the concrete sidewalk of Brooklyn.  A thick coat was wrapped around me adding another layer to add to my white nurse’s dress.  Yet, the coat offered little protection in the cool morning air, a shiver still wiggling its way down my spine. My grey eyes scanned my surroundings for the thousandth time in the past half hour, a newsboy peddled his bike carrying newspapers up the street, a glowing pregnant couple waltzed toward me without a care in the world as if a war wasn’t being fought, that men weren’t dying right at this very moment. Tears pricked my eyes at the thought.

A door slammed near me and I turned in the direction of the disturbance. A small, lanky man with sandy blonde hair and a hollow face grumbled as he jogged down the steps of the recruitment office. His blue eyes met mine, a scowl on his face.

“Rejected” he huffed adjusting his coat.

I closed my eyes and breathed a sigh of relief before taking off to catch up with him.

“Steve, I’m sorry. I know how much you want to go fight.” I soothed, looping my arm through his and hugging myself to his thin, stick-like arm.  In all honesty, I was glad Steve was rejected, even if it was for the third, fourth.. maybe the 5th time? I had grown up with Steve and he was one of my best friends. Once the war had started our other childhood friend Bucky had enlisted and Steve was eager as ever to join him. Although Steve’s health caused him to be rejected time and time again, a fact that frustrated him to no end. I for one was happy to know that he would stay on American soil, at least he would be safe, brokenhearted but safe.

“Its just not fair” Steve huffed again. “I have just as much to offer as any of those other guys! Maybe even more! It’s just not fair, Bucky gets to fight then you’re an army nurse..” he shook his head “what am I supposed to do to as a war effort?”

I smiled at his heart and passion and rolled my eyes playfully.

“How about a movie, huh?

‘Accepted, Accepted, Rejection, Accepted’

My nimble fingers sorted through the military health forms creating two stacks; one stack of men that would go overseas to fight the Nazi’s and the other, men who would have to support the war effort from home. I pressed my red painted lips into a thin line as I focused back on the papers.

“Good evening Justine” a thick, German accent greeted.

I greeted Dr. Abraham Erskine with a smile as he handed me a new file.

“I vill need special attention paid to dis file and a copy on my desk once de enlistment process is complete. I know our best girl is up to de task” he winked kindly.

“Right away sir” I smiled gently. The doctor thanked me and bid me goodnight with a  tip of his hat.

I opened the file and felt my smile fall.

Rogers, Steven

My eyes jumped to the bottom and I felt the tears blind my vision.

How could this happen?

There in bold letters, one of my worst fears, a dreaded moment I had convinced myself would never happen: Accepted

 A red smile stared back at me as I twirled before the mirror. A red dance dress encased my frame and my hair was styled in the latest fashion. A flutter of happiness buzzed in my body, a feeling that I had not felt in many months. In the long months since Steve’s enlistment I had received many letters although they did little to fill the gaping hole in my heart. Until almost a month ago, when I received a letter informing me that Steve was coming home. Although only for a night, he invited me out dancing. In that month, I worked double shifts doing everything I could to ensure that I would have that particular Friday night off and could go shopping for the event. And finally, here it was.

The dance hall was crowded numerous men in uniform twirling around their girls to the sound of the live band. I bit my lip expectantly as I stood on my toes in an attempt to peer over the heads crowding the hall. Suddenly, hands gripped my waist and a squeal left my lips as I turned to look at my captor.

“Bucky!”

I launched myself at the brunette as he chuckled in my ear embracing me in a warm hug.

“Look at you!’ I exclaimed holding him at arm’s length “You look great Buck!”

And he did. Bucky had seemed to fill out his frame with muscle and his face had lost the boyish charm he had left with and was now replaced with a strong handsomeness.

“Well if you think Buck looks good wait till you get a load of me.” A voice sounded behind me.

As I turned I looked at the stranger confused. He was tall, well-built with cords of muscle rippling under his uniform. Sandy blond hair perfectly combed and a baby blue eyes that could make Sinatra jealous. I felt a strange sense of recognition but couldn’t place it. I glanced at Bucky for help who only shook his head chuckling.

“I’m sorry do I know you?”

The blonde released a hearty laugh before approaching and grapping my hands bringing them close to his chest.

“Its me Justine” My grey eyes squinted taking in the stranger. Those eyes were so familiar not to mention his voice and that scar on his hairline…

“Oh my God” I breathed out in astonishment “Steve?”

A small scream left my mouth as I launched myself at him as well. I pressed my fingers deep into his back pressing him firmly into me just to prove that what my eyes saw were true. I hurrdily blinked back tears as I examined his face. His cheeks were fuller than their previous hollow appearance, his jaw still sharp, his smile still kind. I placed my hands along his face and smiled.

“My God it is you” the words came out in a choked whimper.

Steve only nodded before accepting me in his arms for another hug. I had so many questions, so many stories to tell. And yet, one question seemed to be more prominent that others.

“What happened to you?”

“I-“

“I’m afraid that’s confidential” A velvety English accent interrupted.

Now standing next to Steve was a brunette woman about my height with flaming red lips and entrancing eyes. Her aurora breathed confident, independent elegance. I felt my spin loose its poised stature that it once had under the eyes of the brunette woman.

“Justine, this is Peggy, Peggy Justine”

I nodded at the woman. Words seeming lost between my brain and mouth.

“Nothing personal” she continued, eyes directed at me “Army protocol I’m afraid.”

“Yes” I replied back, my voice sounding sharper than I intended “My father and brother are both in the army. I understand the protocol and confidentiality measures quite well.”

Peggy’s lips pulled into a tight line, a forced smile filling her cheeks.  Steve clapped his hands.

“Who’s ready to dance?”

At his question, I felt the envious green be washed away with the blossoming happiness, a smile splitting my face in two as I seemed to bounce on the balls of my feet. However, the smile quickly fell and my movements halted when Steve turned his back to me to offer his hand to Peggy before proceeding to the dance floor.

I could feel Bucky’s gaze on me as I swallowed down my happiness allowing the disappointment and hurt to take its place. Breathing deeply through my nose I released it through parted lips.

‘Its alright. He’ll come back, maybe he promised her the first dance. Don’t let it get you down.’

Nodding at my pep talk I glided through the crowd and managed to find an empty table in the back and sipped on a glass of  water waiting patiently for my turn to dance with my solider. My eyes focused on the couple watching as Steve grinned down at her adoringly and she snuck flirtatious shy glances up at him. Soon the view became blurry through unshed tears and I lowered my head to hide them.

“Sure seems to like her, huh?”  I glanced up at Bucky as we both gazed at Steve and Peggy.

Through a shaky breath I nodded. “Yeah, he does.”

“Wouldn’t it be nice” Bucky began making himself comfortable in the seat across from me “they go off and get married after we win the war. Steve deserves that. To be happy.”

I nodded gently pulling at the blistered wood of the table, anything to keep my mind off the words that Bucky was saying feeling that each word dug a deeper hole in my heart. I didn’t understand why I was feeling this way. Was it because I was used to always having Steve and Bucky’s attention? Or was it as simple as I hadn’t seen my best friend in months and the one night I had the opportunity, he hadn’t said a full two sentences to me?

A muffled chime of a clock grabbed my attention and I glanced at the dusty relic to see that almost two hours had passed. The night was waning on, not taking my wishes into consideration and the daunting fact I had a shift in the morning swam into my mind. Sighing I stood, smoothing out my dress in the process.

“I should go. I have a shift in the infirmary in the morning.”

“Go?” Bucky’s brows stitched in confusion “You haven’t even danced yet?”

I shrugged adjusting my coat as I stole another glance at Steve. “I guess I was just waiting for the right partner.”

“Be safe Buck” I kissed his clean shaven cheek before leaving.

I halted at the entrance, the school-girl part of my heart hoping that it would be like a movie. Mine and Steve’s eyes would meet and he would push through the crowd and take me in his arms. But his eyes weren’t meeting mine. His eyes were focused on her, his hand on her waist and her red finger nails grazing along his uniform as they stared at each other affectionately. I turned quickly on my foot and pushed my way out of the hall. As the cool night air hit my face I noticed the wetness on my skin and the rain covering the ground.

‘Well this is fitting for a movie’ I griped wrapping my arms around my torso to shield me from the drizzling rain and wind. I set toward the road to hail a cab home. Too consumed in my thoughts I barely noticed  the approaching.

“What’s got you upset dollface?”

“I’m just trying to get home” I said softly, keeping my eyes downcast.

“Home, huh?” the man stepped closer bringing with him the pungent stench of stale alcohol “Bet you got a warm bed huh?”

I pressed my lips tightly together, again trying to side step him only to be cut off again.

“Or maybe you don’t? Your lover boy off in the war?” he asked inching closer “ I could keep the bed warm for ya while he’s gone”

I slapped his hand away that had reached my waist. Our eyes met and through the drunkenness I could see anger. I attempted to step around the man’s frame yet again but he cut me off growling. “Im trying to be nice here doll and you’re think you can walk away?”

Tightness encased my throat before I realized the man had his large hand tightly gripping my throat as my back hit a fence. I clawed at his arms feeling the last of my oxygen leaving me. I scratched at the man, tearing my nails into his hand and arm. My body fighting against the steel of the metal fence creating  a metallic rustling that mixed with the rain.

 Suddenly the tightness was released and oxygen filled my lungs again as I fell to the ground a hiss passing my lips as the rocks scraped the skin of my knees, my hands holding my throat as I gasped in oxygen. To my right a large frame was throwing his fists into a huddled form. The taller I realized was Steve.

As I managed to bring myself back to my shaky feet Steve ran to my side.

“Jesus Justine” He breathed gazing at my neck, gently wiping at both the tears and rain that drenched my face “Are you ok?”

I felt my lip tremble at his words. In response to my silence he asked again.

“No!” I roared backing away from his touch stumbling to pull myself back on my feet. My lip trembled and I instantly missed the warmth of his skin. “No I’m not alright!”

Steve’s frown depend as he made a move to scoop me up.. “Lets get you to a hospital”

“No!” I yelled again curling into myself as the tears began to fall “I want to go home”

“Justine, you’re hurt” Steve tried to reason glancing at my bloody knees.

I scoffed “You hurt me worse than that jerk did.”

Steve’s expression looked heartbroken and confused.

“Do you know what I had to do to get this night off?” I began “Ive been pulling double’s for a month! Then I get here and you don’t even notice me! You’re this new tall, muscular stranger who only has eyes for Miss Peggy. I don’t know why you even invited me.”

“I missed you” he said softly before his voice gained enthusiasm “I wanted you to see what the Army did for me! I mean look ! I was able to protect you for once, not Bucky, me! And Peggy” he sighed wistfully “shes looking at me! She cares about me! I mean just look at me now.”

“yeah” I scoffed “I’m looking at you Steve Rogers. Let me ask you something did Miss Peggy even give you a second glance before you became” my hands gestured to the tall muscular figure “this.”

Steve looked grudgingly at the ground. “No one looked at me when I was the little guy. I was just a nothing getting tossed around from one bully to another. I was a nobody.”

A slap wrung out and I cradled my hand noticing Steve’s face barely moved to the side despite the slap. I pursed my lips and screamed as I held my throbbing hand. Steve made a move to come near me again but I backed away.

“I did” I whimpered as my back hit the fence “I saw you, loved you Steve. Even when you were a nobody. I loved you!”

Silence filled the moment despite the pelting of the rain and I stood in realization. That was it. I loved Steve. Always had. I loved Steve Rogers.

Steve’s expression was unreadable, his mouth agape. I sniffed before I gathered myself enough to move.

“Be safe Steve.”

Steve reached out and grabbed my wrist stopping me.

“Don’t. Just don’t. ” I said softly as he opened his mouth. His grip loosened around my wrist and I savored the feeling of his skin against mine as I pulled my hand through his grasp.

I had made it a few yards away when Steve’s voice wrung out.

“They gave me a serum.” His voice rang out. “They made me a super solider.”

I ignored his words and kept walking. Knowing that if I stopped I might not leave until he spoke again. 

“They’re sending me to Germany.”

My eyes closed and I stopped midstep at this statement as icy fear constricted my heart. Germany. The heart of this entire God-forsaken war. This day just wouldn’t end with the heartache. I turned back to face him. My heart clenched at the site. His blonde hair wet and sticking to his forehead, blue eyes cutting the dreary night sky desperation clear in the blue swirls. I quickly jogged back to him and wrapped him in my arms. Our wet clothes sloshing against one another as I allowed my tears to mingle with the rain. Steve’s arms were hesitant as they wrapped around me. As we pulled away our eyes met.

“Don’t do anything stupid, like getting yourself hurt” I whispered and with a brief moment of courage I took on my toes and placed a feather soft kiss to his cheek before I turned on my heel and made my way to the awaiting cabs that had lined up. As I shivered in the backseat of the cab I stole a glance back at the solider in the rain.

“My little man became a solider”I whispered

“Please be safe.”

. First Marvel imagine. Hope I did it justice! 

[janeykath318]

Marriage Matters: Pike x Reader

NOTE: I’m picturing a younger, floofy haired Pike for this fic. He’s about forty in this. 

“You will Marry tomorrow and that is final.” With these words, your doom was sealed and you gave up the attempt to change your father’s mind, marching back to your room in high dudgeon. What a fate: doomed to marry the world’s most upright man—a man more than a decade older than you to boot. It wasn’t fair. Of course, you’d had suitors if your own choosing before, but they’d always turned out to be either too wild, too stuffy, or too bad tempered. Finding a mate wasn’t the problem—finding a good one was.

Flinging yourself on your bed with a sigh, you stared up at the gorgeous white dress hanging up on your wardrobe. Under other circumstances, you would be thrilled to be able to wear such a beautiful creation, but it was merely a symbol of the gilded cage you would soon be entering. At twenty-five, it was high time for you to be married and your father had finally lost patience. The fine gentleman he’d selected was an honored Naval Captain, with a sizable income and a glorious estate. You didn’t care about all that—you wanted to marry for love or not at all. Plans began to form in your head for an escape plan—a desperate, last resort to get out of your ceremony to a man you’d barely met and hadn’t seen for years. Throwing back the bedcovers, you looked critically at them, wondering if they could make a long enough rope if tied together. Given how high up your room was, you decided a little investigation was worth it before trying that method. Creeping back downstairs, you donned cloak and boots and wandered around the house until you reached your window. You winced at the height. Hmm...But if you used a spare set of linens, you thought you might make it. The next problem was where you would secure the makeshift rope. As you thought about this, horse hooves galloped up the lane and you squinted to see who was arriving at this time of day. Not recognizing the man or the horse this far away, you figured it was a person come to do business with your father and returned to examining the side of the house. “I hope the recent windstorm did not cause structural damage to your house, Miss Y/L/N,” said a male voice—a pleasantly, deep, male voice. You turned and saw the stranger approach leading his horse and you were speechless for a moment, recognizing the bane of your existence, the much lauded Captain. “No, sir, it did not,” you answered. “I’m afraid my dilemma is far more serious.” “Oh?” The Captain took off his hat, revealing a surprising amount of rather unruly light brown hair. You approved. “Yes,” You blurted Out, deciding to be thoroughly honest. “I’m supposed to marry tomorrow and I’m plotting an escape.” His eyebrows shot up, but he solemnly nodded. “Did the gentleman turn out to be a rogue?” “No,” you said. “But he wasn’t my choice. If Father didn’t keep insisting I should meekly fall in line because this man is a supposed paragon of virtue, he is sadly mistaken! I keep picturing him as being horribly stuffy and priggish and imagine being treated with long suffering  tolerance rather than as a wife. It’s an unbearable prospect. Money can’t buy happiness or love.” “Those are very valid and excellent concerns, indeed,” replied Pike, looking at you with a very interested expression. “Great man as your father is, I think he grossly exaggerated character. I assure you, being a gentleman does not make one a paragon of virtue, especially after being in the navy. Does that help?” The corner of your mouth quirked up. Close up, you could see that Pike was not the aged, stern officer you had dreaded at all. “A little. But does he have the ability to learn to love me? That has kept me awake at night in dread of ending up like my unfortunate cousin, who lives a dreary existence with a husband who barely tolerated her. I couldn’t bear to think of a future like that.” You ended almost in a whisper, eyes dropping to fasten on the sleek stallion who was calmly snatching mouthfuls of grass. “Miss Y/N,” Pike said gently. “If I did not think I could give my heart to to my wife, I would not stand up and speak those vows to her nor will I require you to do the same.” Face flooding with heat, you were deeply flustered and touched by those words. He WAS a quality man—in every since of the word. The sincerity in his voice meant a great deal to you as well as that was a quality lacking in your last suitors. “Well, you do not SOUND priggish and you do not look it, either,” you blurted, completely taken aback by what he’d said. You wanted to die with embarrassment when these words popped out of your mouth, but Captain Pike didn’t look offended, but he smiled at you, which completely finished you because it was the most becoming smile you’d ever seen. Father had gone about this in the completely wrong way! Why hadn’t he mentioned the REAL virtues of the Captain? You wouldn’t have been nearly as stubborn about the prospect of marrying him. You found your desire to flee had greatly diminished. Risking a broken ankle to escape from THIS man? Complete and utter foolishness. “I apologize for my rude welcome,” you said, recovering your composure. “I have been very.......agitated recently. Would you like to see Father now? I can have Montgomery see to your horse for you.” The hired hand was already making his way over to take the reins of Pike’s horse and after receiving a few instructions from the Captain as to his care, soon led the stallion away, talking to him in a Friendly fashion. “He can wait. Your company is much more appealing to me.” Now you were internally swooning. Perhaps There was something to be said about the more mature gentlemen after all, given how kind and dashing he was. “You might not say that when you have me underfoot all the time,” you said playfully, taking his offered arm and strolling back toward the house—wall measuring long forgotten. “That assumes you stay around for the wedding, Miss Y/N,” he replied with a touch of mischief in his eyes. “From what your father tells me and what I have observed, you have a very bright mind and quick wit and would be very delightful company.” “So......you do not frown upon your wife having interests in things beyond housekeeping?” You asked hopefully. That was another sore spot for you in the whole marriage issue. “Absolutely not. I loathe the custom of treating women like they are simple-minded. If one merely wants a housekeeper, they can be hired easily.” You smiled brightly. “Me resolve to flee has severely weakened, Captain. Father could have saved himself a lot of trouble if he had just invited you earlier or used such similar arguments in favor of you. I am glad to have met you before drastic measures were necessary.” “So am I,” The Captain agreed with another smile. Your father was taken aback when you and the Captain peaceably strolled into his study minutes later. Leaving them to exchange pleasantries and discuss plans for tomorrow’s proceedings. “You will be cooperating, will you not?” Your father asked you rather pointedly before you could get away. Stopping in your tracks with your back to the Men you took several deep breaths and made your decision. “Yes, Father,” you said quietly. “I will,” and fled to the refuge of your bedroom, trembling slightly at everything that had transpired. You wished that your mother was alive to talk to about these monumental life changes. She would have known what to say to calm your fears. As you prepared for bed, you thought about your conversation with the Captain and the comforting genuineness of his speech and behavior. He hadn’t tried to impress you with bragging about his accomplishments or his wealth, nor had he treated you like a child. All your preconceived assumptions had been turned upside down and you had to admit the chances were high that you’d end up falling for your husband. Waking up early the next morning, you saw Mrs. Frost the housekeeper setting a tray on the table. “Wakey, wakey, darling!” She greeted. “I’ve brought breakfast for the bride!” You sat up and rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, which widened greatly at the reminder of the wedding. Your nerves began to make an appearance very quickly and you told Mrs. Frost you weren’t sure if you could eat. “It’s very important though, dearie. You need your nourishment. It will not do to have you fainting during the ceremony, after all. I made the most calming mixture of tea I could think of. That should help settle your nerves a bit.” The tea was indeed quite soothing and you were able to eat your meal. After a bath, you dried in front of the fire and read  from a book for awhile before it was time to get ready. Your good friend Carol Marcus arrived to help with the bridal preparations and there was much discussion about your change of heart. After you explained your impressions of the Captain’s good qualities, she seemed much less worried about you. “I feared it would be a terrible match for you, but if he treats you so nicely, and you find him trustworthy, my heart can be at ease,” Carol said as she helped you do your hair. “I will miss you dearly, though.” “Yes, But I will write you often,” you promised. Your trunks were being packed in the next room and it made the reality of leaving your childhood home for good become sharp. At last, you slipped into the beautiful white gown your mother had worn, surprised by how well it fit you. “You look beautiful, Y/N,” Carol sighed. “I hope you end up as happy as she was.” “I hope so, too,” you whispered. You were silent during the entire journey to the church, trying not to be sick from nerves. Luckily for you, it was a very private affair, only consisting of the clergyman, bride and groom and the witnesses. When you made it in the church, your eyes widened at the sight of the Captain in full uniform, looking exceedingly handsome. Another uniformed man, whom you took to be his best man, stood by his side. This was all so surreal, you thought, too shy to look at your groom. He really had a nice voice, you thought, gaze fixed firmly on his hands in yours as he made his vows. It wasn’t until you’d nearly finished your own promises that you had the courage to look him in the eye, but when you did you found you found yourself receiving an unspoken assurance that you wouldn’t regret this moment. They looked like eyes that could be sharp, piercing, and commanding, but towards you they showed gentleness, calmness, and admiration. There was some quiet Congratulations and well wishing after the ceremony finished and you were introduced to Pike’s friend and former first officer, now a Captain in his own right. James T. Kirk was quite stunning in his own way, but acted like he was all too aware of that fact, though he was very courteous and well-mannered. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Mrs. Pike.” He said with a kiss of the hand. “I do believe you will be very good for my mentor here. He’s become a bit odd in his long bachelor ways.” “I gather that he is the type to have endearing oddities, rather than irritating ones,” you replied, smiling again now that the formalities were over. “I look forward to finding them out.” You met your new husband’s gaze again and beamed saucily. He winked at you, lips curving upwards. Young Kirk looked quite pleased at this and wandered over to Carol and your father. After the group adjourned to your father’s house and enjoyed a post wedding luncheon, it was time for the goodbyes and you were helped into the carriage for the journey to your new home. “Is this when the wooing starts?” You asked impishly. “Because we rather did things in reverse order, husband.” “We did,” he agreed, blue eyes watching you warmly. “And I have every intention of making it up to you, my bride—my very beautiful bride.” Your cheeks grew warm with pleasure at the compliment and you looked forward to his continuing efforts in the courtship field.

[deliverydefresas]

now i’m speechless, over the edge i’m just breathless

SIMBAR FICWEEK IS HERE AND IM SO DAMN HAPPY I MIGHT JUST AS WELL CRY OKAY 

yes, hi. this is day one, and i’m so excited even tho i only have a total of a day and a half ready and 1000% sure this all will be written the day before so im sorry in advance y’all 

anywayyyyy hope you enjoy this not even close to be proofread mess: 

DAY ONE: “You’re unfairly good at everything, but I’m strong enough to carry you bride-style and this for some reason renders you speechless”

Ámbar was getting more and more annoyed by the second, waiting for him to arrive.

The guitarist wasn’t bad, but he wasn’t the best either; and always, always late.

She was the strongest out of the two; it was easy to outshine him when skating (not that she didn’t do that already when she skated with Matteo, but now it was laughable how easy it was) However, Simón being weak was also a risk; because then her safety would be compromised if he lifted her the wrong way, or dropped her by accident if he stepped wrong.

So far none of that had happened because they hadn’t practiced those parts yet; Tamara wanting to help them ‘connect’ with each other had taken most of their rehearsing time with the easy steps first, leaving the most complicated ones for last (which was stupid and a waste of time, she had made it known but, of course, “take it easy” was the team’s motto).

Another problem was that he was easily distracted all the time; if she had to count the number of times she had to snap him out of his Luna-induced-state, she’d fall asleep very quickly at night.

Him not giving her enough attention bothered her a lot.

And her vanity was wounded. She was used to shine, to be the sun on the rink, everyone’s attention on her, awed by her talent, envying her because her steps were as flawless as it could be; and he, foolishly, would rather focus on a stupid moon who couldn’t care less was his center of gravitation.  

Yes, it bothered a lot.

Ámbar huffed once she finished tying her quads’ laces, angry at herself for letting that boy’s obliviousness affect her, when Simón stumbled into the lockers, in a rush.

“Am I late?” he asked, breathing heavily. She didn’t know what was with him and Luna being late to everything, but she was reaching her limit of patience, always waiting. Was this a Mexican thing, or were they just oh so connected that shared the same flaws?

“Not yet.” She scowled him, standing up to allow him lace up his own skates. Simón had the decency to look ashamed.

“I’m sorry, but with the band we’re still choo-”

She interrupted him, scowl intact, “I honestly don’t care.”

Ámbar waited for him to be offended by her response, like a normal person would; he, of course, being all Mr. Nice Guy, just smiled at her, sitting down with his quads to begin putting them on. “Fair enough.”

She didn’t know how to respond to that.

She wanted to ask him what he meant, why he didn’t seem to mind her bashing his band; but she just huffed again (which she did a lot around him), and skated to the rink, not before shouting a “hurry up” in his direction, to, well, hurry him up.

She stepped in the rink in seconds, unsurprised that the only people from the team that were there, were Ramiro, Matteo and her. Ámbar, of course, couldn’t stop from complaining.

“Your partners aren’t here yet? So unprofessional.”

Matteo was the first to react, rolling his eyes at her comment, and jumped to defend his lover girl “Luna had to stay at school a little longer today, she’ll be here soon.”

“Ah, of course.”

She could see her ex’s mouth turning upwards for a second, before she started her usual warm ups around the rink, not bothering to hear what Ramiro had to say about Jim’s whereabouts. She could care less about whatever those losers were doing, probably moping around some guy; because they were that desperate.

Matteo caught up with her a moment later, “where’s the guitarist, anyway? I don’t see him here either.”

“Miss him already?” she changed her course, standing in front of him to now skate backwards, smirk well put on her face. “Worried that he’s actually with your little Luna-love?”

“Ámbar.” His face turned blank, not entertained at all (which in Matteo terms, meant he was jealous and wasn’t willing to let the world know)

“Luckily for us, though,” she nodded towards the lockers’ doorframe, where Simón was already there, about to step into the rink, “he’s here, alone.”

Matteo didn’t look back, didn’t even tilt his head to look behind him, but kept his eyes on her face. His eyes turned from emotionless to amused in a second, and a smile appeared just as fast, “I see.”

“But you don’t.” She retorted, confused at his answer. Was today a “tell Ámbar weird responses to confuse her” day or something? Or were they just idiots?

“Or do I?” he teased, circling around her. Ámbar glared at him, crossing her arms.

He was acting ridiculous now. From experience, she could tell he was trying to get something out of her, by making her want to lash out and admit something. What exactly, she wasn’t sure. Balsano knew her better than most people, so the probability of him catching up with something about her before she could even think about it first was high.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Matteo circled her one more time before shrugging off, “you’re smart, you’ll figure it out.” With that, he left her side to go to the bleachers, where Gastón was now with Ramiro, Jim and Yam.

Nevertheless, Ámbar was annoyed. “What the- Matteo!” she called after him, ready to skate in his direction when Simón appeared in front of her, blocking her way from demanding answers out of her ex-boyfriend.

“Have you warmed up yet?” he asked, half scaring her to death, half actually killing her by nearly making her fall from the scare. Basically, he almost murders her.

He did save her, though, by holding her by the shoulders before she could meet the ground.

“I was in the middle of that,” she shrugged him off, literally, to get his hands off her. He took a step back, and smiled down at her, making her slightly uncomfortable.

Personally, she thought he looked ridiculous. Crooked beanie, horrible blue hoodie, and creepy smile. She was reminded of her best friend’s stupid crush when he first appeared in their lives; for someone who loved fashion, how could Jazmín had ever been interested in him? A real mystery she was not set to solve.

He had a nice enough body and face, but there was something that just made her hesitate about him. Unknown territory she had no intention to step on.

“Want to warm up together? We could even practice the lifts this time.” Simón pulled her out of her thoughts. So, of course, taken out in a shock, she blurted out the first thing that came out from her brain.

“Do you like Jazmín?”

He blinked, once, twice, “what?”

The heat from her cheeks was unwelcome. She knew she was embarrassed.

Fortunately for her, it was then when Mariano came and ordered them to start skating around the rink again, so they did.

They circled around fourteenth times, stretching and practicing a couple easy steps on the way. Lunita joined them when they hit the fourth round, shouting apologies nobody (her) cared to listen, and she huffed once more.

Fifteenth, sixteenth, seventeenth.

On the eighteenth turn, Simón finally caught up with her, skating along her and trying to follow whatever step she was making. She got annoyed soon, and went past him, increasing her speed until it was safe to do an axel without falling on her face for lack of impulse.

She heard her friends cheer on the background, clapping loudly. When had they arrived, she had no idea, but she still flipped her hair in acknowledgement, smirking proudly.

When she looked back she found Simón’s eyes on her, smiling and clapping along. The image was so weird, so unusual to her, she lost her balance for a second, and fell on her butt. His face turned concerned immediately and, rushed to her side; the rest of the team plus their coaches close behind.

His face was in front of hers in a minute, “you’re okay?”

She gulped at the closeness, her stomach getting unsettled all of the sudden, “I think so.”

Tamara came behind Simón, who had kneeled down beside her, and asked, “can you stand? Does it hurt anywhere?”

It was then when Ámbar noticed her ankle was actually in pain, wincing. “I think my ankle might be hurt.”

Mariano cursed loudly, and ordered for anyone to bring ice quickly, while he ran to his cellphone to call a doctor. With Tamara and Simón’s help, they took her quads off, the former examining her left ankle as soon as the sock was off.

“I think it might just be a bruise,” she spoke sweetly, after a few minutes, “still, it’d be better if you just sit down and ice it for today.” Ámbar was more than ready to complain, but Tamara’s look shut her up before she could, “now, one of you please take her to the bleachers so she can sit down there.”

On the corner of her eye, she saw Matteo taking a step, ready to offer himself. Simón beat him at it, surprising them both, but made her ex smile for some reason.  

“I will.” Without giving her time to protest, he lifted her up, securing her in his arms; bride-style.

Ámbar was speechless. He even had his freaking quads on! She didn’t know if she was scared he’d let her fall or just plain shocked he volunteered to carry her, but she couldn’t form a sentence.

Once they reached the stands, he accommodated her on a chair, before allowing Delfi and Jazmín to bombarded with questions about her wellbeing.

“Hey, hey, let her breath.” He nudged them softly, shutting them up effectively for a total of two seconds, because then they proceeded to apologize non-stop.

Somehow she found her voice again, “just shut up already.” They did this time, “if you want to be useful go and bring me water or something.”

They were gone in a flash, so she looked up to the boy, who looked more amused than anything. “What?” she asked, but he just shrugged, avoiding an answer.

“Simón! Get back to practice!” Mariano yelled at him, snapping his fingers to let him know there was no time to waste.

“I hate that guy,” he told her secretively, making the corners of her mouth twitch.

“SIMÓN!”

The boy rolled his eyes, but still didn’t move, “are you going to be okay by yourself for now?” she nodded in response, “feel better, yeah? Can’t let this rink be without its queen.” Simón winked, and left her to go with a very pissed Mariano, finally starting to practice the choreography.

She was stunned, once again, by him. What even was this? Black magic? Voodoo? This clearly wasn’t her.

“Does it hurt less now, Ámbar?” Delfi appeared again, with a bottle of water and a very worried Jazmín carrying a sandwich behind her.

She nodded. But inside, she was screaming.

Simón must have thrown a spell on her, that was the only (il)logical reason.  

Cause she, sure as hell, wasn’t crushing on him.

At all.

[promptismania]

Promptis Fanfic!

Hey guys! So I have been writing this fanfic and I would live to get some feedback!

Chapter one: A Cold Wake-up!

Noctis Lucis Caelum sat quietly on his throne watching his little girl play with a plush doll, one very similar to the moogle doll that Iris had given him so long ago. To all others who looked upon the royal family, it seemed like Noctis was content just watching over his daughter, but inside he was having a furious battle with himself. He knew he should happy, everything was as it should be, but he just couldn’t shake the feeling that something was coming and it would turn his world upside down. I mean, I have everything I could ever want; a beautiful kingdom and a wonderful daughter- so there’s nothing to worry about, Noctis reasoned with himself. But the uneasiness persisted. Frustrated, Noctis let out a growl. What the hell! God, I haven't changed at all! What is wrong with me?

A small squeak abruptly brought his attention back to the playful child at his feet. Prima had jumped in fright at Noctis’s growl and fallen down a few steps, bumping her head against the railing. Immediately, Noctis scooped up her up and held her close to his chest. Tears sprung up in her baby blue eyes and she began to sob into Noctis’ shoulder. He knew at that moment, he had to put aside his frustrations and worries for this little girl. She was the future ruler of this kingdom, and soon to be the next oracle if Luna’s prophecy held. He couldn’t worry about stupid things... such as the hollow pit that now resided in his stomach.

Stroking Prima’s back, Noctis whispered “I'm sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Whimpering Prima answered “It’s okay, daddy. My head just hurts!”

Noctis looked at her small tear stained face and he just couldn't stand it. He had never been good with people crying. He just never knew what to do or what to say, but with Prima, her tears hurt him the most. It was almost as if her pain became his own and he would do anything to make that pain go away. And that included spoiling her rotten if it became necessary. “You know what might help? Let's go get some ice cream. Just the two of us.” Noctis smiled warmly as Prima's face started to brighten.

“Really? I want to go! I want to go!” Immediately forgetting the bump on her head, Prima began to squirm out of Noctis’s hold. Noctic only sighed and sat her down, but before he could truly let her go she grabbed his hand and started to pull. Prima tried as hard as she could to drag Noctis towards the exit. But it was no use, he was just too big for her. "Daddy! Come on!" She finally whined.

“Okay, Okay! We’re going!” Noctis agreed. He could never really say no to Prima. It seemed no matter what, the mischievous child was going to get her way.

"Yeah! I want to go to Little Rockies! They have the coolest Moogy dolls!" She exclaimed, running to the servant door that was just left from the throne. Noctis loved using that entrance because it was so much easier to go in and out of without being hassled by his advisers of security measures. The second he walked out the throne room doors he would be surrounded by guards and escorted to where ever they wanted to go, but Noctis preferred to do the escorting himself. He was King of Lucis and had power beyond anyone's imagination, he did not need protection.

Prima had gotten so used to going this way that she automatically went to it, expecting Noctis to follow at her heels.

Smiling, Noctis watched her bound over to the door. Sometimes she reminded Noctis so much of Luna that looking at her made his chest ache, with her golden hair and the light that just seemed to radiate from her. Though no one could deny that she was Noctis's child. Prima had more then a few days where she refused to brush her hair and in true Noctis like fashion, her hair went everywhere. Noctis chuckled at the thought and felt the ache in his chest lessen. She may remind him of Luna but she provided a certain peace to his world. That peace had been scarce with the loss of the two people he had truly loved and he could still remember the day that a certain blondie left his life to let room for the future queen of Lucis.

After that, Noctis and Luna soon married and Noctis ascended to the throne. Finally King, Noctis with Luna at his side, rebuilt the world to its former glory. Though as the years passed, it soon became apparent that Luna’s Oracle powers seemed to overwhelm her body. It had been just three years after Ardyn’s death when Luna became gravely ill, and eventually passed away in the arms of her king. Her passing haunted Noctis’s dreams, making him relive the moment over and over again.

“Daddy! Come on! Let’s go!” Prima whined again, breaking Noctis out of his thoughts. She had ran back over to him and was tugging on his black jacket.

Noctis smiled down at her and nodded his head, he could think later. Right now his daughter needed him more and that’s what mattered the most.

Suddenly the throne room doors burst open, and his attendant rushed in. The man looked like he had just run a marathon, huffing and puffing, he barely managed to get out the apology for his abruptness. Noctis had never seen his attendant so bent out of shape; whatever Auxilium had come to tell him must be serious if he was this urgent about the news.

Finally catching his breath he bowed to his king and gave his report. “Your Majesty, I do apologize again for my interruption, but there is someone here to see you.”

Noctis just stared at his attendant, confused and annoyed. This is what he had to tell me? Why is it so important that some random citizen is here to see me unannounced? He thought to himself bitterly.

“Thank you Auxilium, but I am currently attending to more important matters right now. Please tell our guest that I am unable to meet with them.” Noctis stated briskly.

“But your Majesty, I really do insist that you…” Auxilium started, but Noctis just held up his hand and the gesture silenced him immediately.

“That will be all.” Noctis firmly stated.

Looking like wanted to say more but deciding against it, Auxilium backed slowly out the way he came.

Prima, who had been silent through the whole affair gave a little whimper and took his hand. "Daddy, that wasn't very nice."

A feeling of shame coursed through Noctis. He had only been thinking of spending time with his daughter, but in the end he had just shown her the one thing he feared and hated. That their was a cold darkness in himself that he could never escape from. Not for the first time, he feared that he was spreading it to the only light his world held.

Kneeling down, he took both of her small hands in his. “I know. Promise me if I’m ever mean like that again," he gave her a small smile and then continued, "you’ll give me a time out, okay?”

Her smile was all the answer he needed. He was just about to suggest that they should continue to go get some ice cream, when a rustling sound caught his attention. Quick as lightning, Noctis scooped up Prima and turned around just as a black form came flying down from the ceiling. A sword, which had once belonged to his father, appeared in Noctis' hand and he pointed it at the masked intruder's back.

The masked man groaned and began to slowly to rise. “Uggh, that really hurt!” He hissed.

Bilwildered, Noctis first instinct was to lunge, but with Prima in his arms, that wasn’t an option. He instead proceeded to go to the next course of action. “Who are you? What are you doing here? If you don’t answer me in the next second, there will be hell to pay!” Noctis threatened.

The masked intruder finally took notice of Noctis standing there with his pointed weapon. He immediately put up his hands, and was just about to say something, when Noctis caught a glimpse at his eyes. They were a light blue and had a bright look to them that Noctis would know anywhere...

“Prompto?”

Also here is the link to the rest of the story! http://archiveofourown.org/works/9347414/chapters/21173459 

I would love to get a lot feedback!

[foslad]

Almost Too Good (A Chris Evans Story) Part 13

A/N:WHEN THE LAPTOP YOU HAD FIXED EXPLODES ENTIRELY AFTER A GREEN TEA SPILLAGE SITUATION AND YOU’RE TOO DIRT POOR IN THE LEAD UP TO CHRISTMAS SO YOU CAN’T BUY A NEW ONE BUT THEN ONE JANUARY DAY YOUR BROTHER LEAVES HIS LAPTOP AT YOURS OVERNIGHT SO YOU SWOOP IN THERE. IF ANYONE IS STILL HERE OR EVEN CARES, THANK YOU, I LOVE YOU AND YOUR PATIENCE. Trust me, I HATE it when people disappear without updates JUST as much as you! The self-loathing is real, am I right Adrian?

Anyway, here’s a super duper long Part 13.

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

‘Eh voila! Fits like a glove.’ Jean-Pierre gushed as he followed me out of the bathroom and back into the hotel room.

‘Oh it’s perfect Jean, exactly what we were hoping for.’ Carol gushed as she picked up the pair of glasses that she had dangling around her neck to take a closer look.

‘Works wit zee whole theme parfactly.’ Dana gushed from his seat in the corner.

I felt as though if I heard anymore gushing, I was going to be sick.

Sick all over the most beautiful gown that I should’ve been gushing over myself because it truly was the most stunning piece I’d ever seen.

Although in reality, the sickness couldn’t be blamed on them or the dress. It had been following me around all week. Sick with nerves. Sick with regret. Sick with anxiety. Just… sick.

Two weeks had passed at a snail’s pace but finally the launch party would be upon us the next evening and my custom dress was to die for.

A beautiful metallic wrap top dress that tied behind my neck with a flowing, intricately beaded, chiffon skirt that shimmered in the light. I was cinched into it within an inch of my life and whilst admittedly my waist looked tiny from every angle, it naturally meant that my lung capacity was reduced to a minimum.

When I had informed Jean of its slightly... tight nature, I was met with,

‘There’s no room for breathing in the world of fashion. It takes up too much time.’ I nodded and faked a laugh, knowing deep down that he wasn’t joking and that I wouldn’t be breathing anytime soon.

After a few more twirls, everyone seemed content with the final product and, like always, ran away in their own languages to discuss the rest of the details for tomorrow.

I carefully picked up the bottom of the dress and turned myself around, making my way back into the makeshift changing room/bathroom/clothes bomb zone.

As I unchanged, I left the door open at a small crack and tried to make out any indication as to what they were saying. I swear, sometimes I think Fashion is a language in itself. It’s somewhere between Italian, French, German and Eminem Rap God level of speed, with a dash of organised mayhem for luck.

I threw back on the loose cami dress and sweater that had served me well all day and with one look in the mirror, pushed my hair up into a bun and sighed.

How was I even going to get through tomorrow?

------

The day I got back from Chris’, Amy made me call Amanda and explain my actions.

‘What, the actual, fuck, Adrian… You do realise you come off as a total asshole if you go through with this?’

‘Thank you Amanda. The thought hadn’t even crossed my mind.’

‘Adrian, as your friend I have to be honest, you need a break. See your folks or something. Clearly you’re losing your mind.’

‘Amanda!’

‘What!? You’re the one dumping the one guy that’s made you happy in forever even though he’s literally done nothing wrong.’

‘Look, I know what I’m doing. Sometimes female friends see things that others don’t…’

I sighed and reflected back on a time I tried not to think of that often. One of Alex’s ex-best friends was a girl and she had been the one to come to me and tell me that my boyfriend of 6 years had been seeing his co-star behind my back. But me being the girlfriend and her being close to him, I, of course, thought she was lying and was jealous. Turns out, as I discovered when I flew home early from filming and caught him in our bed with his co-star, she wasn’t lying at all.

‘Adrian, you know what needs to happen don’t you?’

‘Amanda I’m not going to-‘

‘You need to talk to him. Communicate. He’s not an 18 year old fuck boy. He’s a grown man and if you’re honest with him then I’m sure he’ll be honest back. You just tell him you’re a relationship girl who has been fucked over before and if all he wants is to fool around then you wish him luck but he’s wasting his time because he’s not going to get that from you. That’s it, that’s all you needed to do.’

I left the line silent for a second as I let her words sink in. I knew that she was right. Why was I having such a hard time just talking to him? Why wasn’t it that easy?

As I sat in thought, Amy decided to give her two cents.

‘Amanda I have known you as long as I’ve known Adrian and that may well be the best piece of advice I’ve ever heard you give. Good for you. I didn’t know you had that in you.’ Half sarcasm, half genuine impression.

----

As I stood there staring at my reflection, I realized I was beginning to confuse even myself. I had never come across this form of self-destruction before. Even I knew I made no sense.

‘Ve’re off, ve’ll see you tomara Adrian!’ Dana called suddenly from the other side of the door, causing me to jump in fright.

‘Okay, sure! See you then!’

----

As I rode the elevator down to the venue and the flashes of the paparazzi beckoned, I no longer felt the tightness of the dress or the sick feeling. I felt so consumed by it all, I had somehow come out of the other side.

My day had been spent mostly in hair and make-up and, save for when someone from the Gucci team cropped open a window to puff their cigarette smoke out, I hadn’t been outside or smelt the fresh air at all since 7am.

The launch was being held in a function room at the St Regis Hotel and Gucci had offered to put me and a plus one up in the hotel and then my hair and make-up team in one around the corner for the night. Likewise, I imagine they’d done the same for Chris.

Not that I would know for sure.

Aside from a questioning message about if I had gotten back to New York okay and some other texts on his part (that I couldn’t bring myself to respond to), it had practically been radio silence between us these past two weeks. And as much as it was my fault and as much as I pretended to Amy that I didn’t care and that it was for the best. I hated it.

Since meeting, we had never gone this long without speaking to each other and I could feel the gap it had left in my everyday routine. No late night phone calls about our days, no simple texts of asking the other about what they were up to as an excuse to talk. No ‘I miss you’’s.

That one got me the most.

Because I did miss him.

------

There was a makeshift red carpet set out beside the entrance and I could see a model I recognized from a different Gucci advertisement that was displayed about a block away from my apartment working the cameras.

As soon as I had stepped out of the elevator, the buzzing atmosphere hit me.

A woman with a headset placed her hand on the small of my back and guided me towards the press.

I gave smiling interview after interview about how, ‘It’s a wonderfully light fragrance. It really gives off a sense of confidence without being overpowering. I think it’s an incredibly feminine mystique scent.’

All the questions had steered more or less along the same direction and I could feel myself talking as though I were on auto-pilot.

After over an hour of spewing the same gobbledegook about the perfume, I sent Amy a glance of relief as we approached a woman in red. The last interview was in sight and I was desperate to get inside, it was starting to get cold next to this entrance.

‘So tell me, what was it like working with Chris Evans?’

Just the sound of someone strange asking me about Chris threw me for a loop.

I had half expected it but it was still surprising to me.

‘Oh, it was..’ My mind was blanking. It was as though I had been flat out asked if we were dating or something. I had to somehow maintain my enthusiasm without giving anything away.

‘.. a great experience. He’s a very talented guy. I really enjoyed...’ Not too much Adrian, not too much. ‘…it all. Yeah. A great project to have been a part of, I feel very lucky.’

She smiled wide at me and seemed to accept my answer and, thankfully, proceeded on with her questioning.

If I could’ve, I would’ve jogged away from that press ring in delight at the prospect of sweet freedom. The press was one of the main obligations of the night and the rest was just to be spent schmoozing and dilly dallying with the fashion elite who had turned up.

The actual function room itself was the most beautiful and rich looking room I’d ever seen; if it could even be narrowed down as a room. There were huge crystal chandeliers that reminded me of the ones from Beauty and the Beast and marble columns that went right up to the ceiling with gigantic arched windows that were draped in lavish velvet curtains. Flowers were everywhere and waiters and waitresses there to cater to everyone’s needs. The entrance placed you with three ways to go, left to a marble staircase that led down to the main ballroom part where most people were stood mingling with drinks, straight ahead towards an inside open top balcony that looked down upon the ballroom or right, where I didn’t pay much attention to but it seemed as though it held more party related things.

I couldn’t deny that as soon as I had stepped foot inside the party, my eyes searched for one person and one person only and as I made my way over to the balcony and looked out over the ballroom, it didn’t take long to spot my target amidst the sea of others.

There was nothing I could do to stop my breathing from hitching slightly as I eyed him up as he stood talking to a group of men I didn’t recognize.

I could practically smell his freshness from here. He looked so good. An all-black suit adorned his body, a black shirt that was undone by a couple of buttons, black shoes, groomed hair and a glorious smile that made me swoon without trying.

I hadn’t realized Amy had appeared at my side until she followed my line of sight and spoke up.

‘Aren’t you going to go over?’

I continued to watch him smile and laugh lightly with those around him and I realized that I didn’t deserve to go over there and ruin it just yet.

‘He uh, he seems busy. I’ll just catch him, later.’ I mumbled, blinking for the first time in a while and reluctantly turning my back to him to face Amy. She was holding two champagne glasses and I accepted one, taking an immediate gulp as a means of distracting myself from her piercing glare.

‘You didn’t talk to him like we told you to, did you.’ It wasn’t a question. It was a statement.

A true statement.

I closed my eyes and prepared my defense case but I knew myself I didn’t have much to go on.

‘I was going to.. I j-‘

‘You are unbelievable sometimes. You know that?’ Her tone was a little sharp and fed up and I could feel my body jolt in surprise.

‘You know what, maybe you shouldn’t go over there because if I was him, I’d be pissed too.’

Part of me felt I should be offended and the other part of me wanted to be offended. But how can I stand here and be offended by… the truth?

We didn’t dwell in our sourness for long, as two gents from the Gucci board joined us and began asking me about my filming experience.

They talked to me for quite some time and every so often I could feel my eyes draw behind them to see if I could spot Chris but my position wasn’t ideal for sight-seeing. The last time I was able to properly see, he had still been in the same position, only a couple more people appeared to have joined their conversation; a middle-aged gent and the model from the carpet earlier.

When I was finally released from the grips of conversation, having excused myself to the restroom, I breathed a sigh of composure at the intensity of talking about fashion for so long. I loved it, truly, but my brain wasn’t in the right frame of mind for it right now.  

As I made my way past people and towards the crowded stair case, I couldn’t help myself from glancing down and reviewing the familiar spot.

He was still there. Laughing and talking. Only everyone had gone. Except for model girl.

I called her ‘girl’ because she looked all of about 18 and was as skinny as could be.

But she was pretty…

And her eyes seemed to light up anytime Chris payed her the slightest bit of attention by laughing at something she said or in turn flinging her head back as she laughed at him.

Although somewhat reassuringly, I could see in Chris’ facial expressions that he was just humoring her. He seemed somewhat distracted and every now and then, when he had her caught up in laughter, would glance around his surroundings and I knew deep down that he was probably looking for me.

I wasn’t sure how long I’d stood there before the inevitable happened and his eyes looked away from her again and around to my area. It was like Déjà vu from his LA party…

Slowly his eyes traced the area around me, eventually settling on the weirdo on the stairs who wasn’t even bothering to hide her staring.

And it was there that the comparisons to the party stopped.

He didn’t break out into a huge smile. He didn’t immediately excuse himself from the company he was in. He didn’t run over and hug me.

Instead, he appeared to blink a few times, to make sure it was me, before turning back to model girl and allowing her to finish whatever she was talking about. Ouch.

I’d have been lying if I said his rejection didn’t feel like someone had just walked up to me and nonchalantly stabbed me in the stomach as they climbed the stairs.

The wind had been knocked out of me and there was nobody to blame but myself.

‘If I was him, I’d be pissed too.’

Amy’s words echoed in my head and I could see now that she was right. Had I really expected him to just waltz up to me and act like I hadn’t just cut contact with him with no explanation or forewarning?

Yes.

I lifted one leg up, ready to turn around and admit defeat when I caught a glimpse of the upstairs and behind where I had been stood with my back turned with Amy.

Huge twelve feet tall posters of Chris and I were everywhere. Close up shots of us in compromising positions from the shoot were being looked at and admired by the hundreds of strangers around me. Ones of us looking at each other, ones of him looking at me…

As I gazed at them, my mind was instantly transported back to the shoot. How professional the pictures looked and yet, I remembered fondly how we couldn’t contain our laughter that day. Chris had made fun of the fact that when I was ‘forced’ to smile, I looked as though I’d ‘just been introduced to my new stepmother who was years younger than me and I was trying to be polite but feeling beyond pained’. I had tried to act offended but anytime he caught me faking a smile his face would crease up in the most beautiful way and he’d laugh so heartily, I couldn’t help but join in.

I looked at them now and it was as though I was being mocked. Look at what you could’ve had if you hadn’t gone and messed it up idiot.

As remorseful as I felt, the pictures had ignited something in me and for the first time in probably our entire friendship, I decided I was going to take Amanda’s advice. I had to talk to him.

I pivoted on the spot and apologized to people as I lightly knocked into them on my way down the stairs.

On my way down I didn’t bother to actually make a note of where he was specifically and as soon as I was on the ground floor, I realized that there was far too many people to actually see him.

Undeterred, I began to slowly make my way in the general direction of where I remembered seeing him and sure enough, after a few polite ‘hello’s’ and ‘thank you so much’s’ to people complimenting me on the campaign on my way, the back of a familiar head came into view.

I hadn’t noticed that any nerves I’d felt had been turned into adrenaline. Adrenaline that had carried me all the way over here and now that I was here, had suddenly dispersed.

The model girl spotted me first and smiled as though she couldn’t believe her luck that both actor stars of the new campaign wanted to talk to her.

‘Oh my God, I love your dress!’ She preached. ‘Is it custom? It must be!’ She reached forward and grasped part of the beaded detailing on the skirt and ran her fingers over it.

Despite the fact she had very little personal space boundaries, I deduced that she was harmless and took this opportunity to look at Chris properly.

He didn’t seem shocked by sudden appearance and had been watching her touch my dress too. He looked up from the girl and met my gaze as we both soaked each other in. I wasn’t sure about him, but I could almost feel myself sinking with the weight of everything I wanted to say to him right now.

But this was neither the time nor the place.

As model girl dropped my dress, she must’ve noticed the way Chris and I were looking at each other, clearly needing to talk, and quietly excused herself.  Not that we noticed.

Instead we continued to look at each other, our eyes willing the other to go first.

Chris broke first. He shook his head, skipped the pleasantries and just got right into it.

‘What happened to you Adrian? I don’t understand. Why’d you flake out on me?’ His voice wasn’t accusing. In fact, it was quiet and hurt almost.

His tone shocked me and I felt like I didn’t have the comeback it deserved. So I reluctantly continued to fester in my lie.

‘I-I didn’t, I had a meeting...’

‘I’m not an idiot Adrian.’ Now he was being firm. Quiet but firm. ‘I could tell something was up in the bedroom that night at my Mom’s. It was like you didn’t want me anywhere near you. And then you just, what… disappeared from the face of the earth? Was that because of a ‘meeting’ too?’

I looked at him for a second, not knowing what to say yet having everything I needed to say.

I could see over his shoulder and the fact that Dana had spotted us and was now fast approaching. There wasn’t much point in trying to get into an explanation, no matter how badly I wanted to.

He appeared from behind and slightly startled Chris as he put a hand on his shoulder in greeting.

‘Adrian, Chris, come, ve must take a pickture!’ Dana cheered. ‘Reunited.’

Like magic, a photographer for the event appeared out of nowhere and placed the camera in front of his face. Despite feeling slightly startled and still feeling very sick, I placed my arm around Dana and felt Chris’ do the same from the other side.  

‘Ve didn’t chat properly yesterday Adrian. Vat have you both been up to? Anything nice?’ He asked, glancing between us as he ushered the photographer away and began to sip on his drink, completely oblivious to everything that had happened between Chris and I. Chris hadn’t made eye contact with me since Dana had arrived and I was beginning to feel like I didn’t belong in this nice fancy dress and was better suited to being a dirt spot on someone’s shoe.

When neither of us were quick enough to speak up, Dana moved on to a topic he actually cared to talk about. Leaning in, he beckoned our ears closer as though he was about to tell us a secret.

‘You didn’t hear it from me, but zee head team lave it, I think ve vill get another couple of deals from zis.’ He practically beamed and I couldn’t help but feel elated at the news as well. I returned his smile and let out a ‘That’s great news!’

We both turned to Chris expectantly and I could feel my elation drop as he put on the ‘forced’ smile he’d shown me as a means of making me feel better about my own at the shoot, and let out a collected ‘… cool’. I could tell it was more for Dana’s benefit than my own.

It was then that Dana began to eye us suspiciously but despite being a fabulous director, he clearly wasn’t great at multi-tasking as he appeared to recognize someone behind us and immediately forgot about the tension that had befallen his two leading stars and instead began clicking his fingers in greeting as he made his way over to them.

‘Ciao for now dah-lings!’ He called back.

I couldn’t continue on like this. As soon as he was gone, I leapt into action.

‘Can we go somewhere and talk, please?’

‘Oh so now you wanna talk? The past two weeks not been a good time?’ He commented before walking past me, leaving me glued to the spot, stunned.

I think he’s showing you that it’s not a nice feeling being ignored.

I watched as he walked about ten meters away before halting, heaving his shoulders in a sigh and turning around to make his way back over to me.

‘A’rite’ He sighed, giving in. ‘What’s your room number?’

I could feel my eyes light up at his sudden change of heart. ‘48A.’

‘I’ll meet you there in ten.’ He whispered before actually walking past me this time.

----

I thanked God that I had somehow crept up to the floor without running into anyone. Considering how many people were at this function, it was a borderline miracle.

As I got to my door, I thought about what I was about to do and for the first time in what felt like forever, I wasn’t nervous or scared. I wanted it to happen. I wanted us to talk.

The longer I waited the more I could feel the nerves begin to creep up but I knew it was mostly anticipation.

As soon as a light knock resonated in the room I practically flew across to it.

‘Did I disturb you?’

‘No, no, come on in.’ I moved aside and allowed him room to enter.

I centered my mind and tried to remember how grateful he’d been when I was honest about the pictures of him and Grace. If I owed him anything, I owed him that honesty.

I closed the door and shuffled straight towards the window located on the other side and stared at the view in a bid to gather my thoughts.

Just turn around and speak your mind coherently. Okay?

‘What do you want?’ Or it could just tumble out…

‘Eh?’ He called back from his position beside the door.

‘From this.’ I pointed back and forth between us; which didn’t have much of an effect of unity seeing as though we were on opposite ends of the room.

He shot me a confused look as he stuck his hands in his pockets, waiting for me to clarify what I meant.

Shaking my head, I decided to start over.

‘Okay, I’ll talk and you just…’ I walked over and placed my hands on his arms and guided him to sit down on the bed. ‘… listen, for a sec.’

‘Adrian, what are you doing?’

‘No talking! Just listening.’

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes.

‘I feel like… I don’t know what you want.’ I repeated, to which he raised an eyebrow in response.

‘Look, I get it, you wanted this to be something casual and I can appreciate that.’ I continued. ‘But I don’t do casual. I never have and I probably never will. So if it’s casual you want then I wish you luck because you’re not going to get that from me.’ All of my pent up anxiety about this conversation had caused my voice to sound breathy, like I’d run a marathon or something.

He stared up at me as he processed what I was saying.

Even the couple of seconds of silence was killing me. I couldn’t handle it. I needed him to say something. So I continued on.

‘I thought it best to just, get that out in the open before this went any further. I know, I know, I should’ve said it at the start but at least this way we can… stay friends?’

This caused him to stare at me as though I had three heads.

‘Adrian, what the heck!?’ He asked incredulously as, to my delight, a smile crept onto his face. ‘Where did this come from?’

‘My brain.’ I confessed meekly.

‘I think you’re… overthinking this slightly. I’m pretty sure everyone dates “casually” (he gestured his hands in air quotes) in the beginning…’ He stood up so that I now had to look up at him. ‘It’s the things that happen after that make it more serious.’ He picked up a curl off of my shoulder and began to twirl it around his finger.

This time it was my turn to stay quiet and have him lead.

‘I may have said casual but I didn’t mean caaasual as in, let’s go and see other people, I meant casual as in, you know, no pressure. Long distance is tough enough as it is without one complaining about when they are going to see the other. It’s always better to just keep it light in those situations. That’s all I was saying.’

A small smile crept across my face.

‘You sure? You’re not gonna dump me for a Barbie doll in a months’ time who lives closer and puts out easily?’

This time he really did laugh. ‘What are you even talking about now!? Why would I do that?’

When he noticed I wasn’t laughing with him and that I clearly wasn’t joking, his mind seemed to click.

‘Adrian, what are you not telling me?’

I didn’t want to start drama. I HATED drama. These people were his friends and I didn’t want to be the one to cause a rift between them.

‘Nothing.’

‘Adrian, come on now.’ He let go of my hair and placed his hands on either side of my arms and looked me directly in the eye. ‘We have to be able to talk to each other about these things. It’s not good to pent things up. Otherwise you’re going to end up in a hotel room being told things you had no idea were a problem in the first place.’ He relayed, shedding light on his current situation. ‘Cause I’ll be honest, I’m standing here racking my brains thinking about what I could’ve possibly done to put these thoughts in your head and I’m coming up short.’

It wasn’t you. You haven’t done anything.

I pulled away and sat down on the bed with my hands twisted together in my lap. I suddenly felt ashamed that I had let someone else’s words taint his.

‘I may have overheard a conversation that I wish I hadn’t…’ I started, as I looked at the floor and bit the inner corner of my cheek as I thought back on it.

He quickly sat beside me and mimicked my body posture. ‘Go on…’

‘I think a direct quote was “an up and coming nobody who we all know is just a bit of fun for him”.’

His face was stony as he asked who had said that. ‘Someone who knows you better than I do.’

‘Adrian, this business we’re in. It’s all bullshit. People don’t like to see happiness. They like to see what they want to see.’ He unattached his fingers and reached over to take my hand and bring it back to his lap to be encased by the other one on top. ‘So of course they’re going to want to write articles about ex’s and of course they’re going to want to spread lies or dig up the past. That’s fine, let them be hateful. The key is to not listen to them.’

‘I know. You’re right.’ I conceded. ‘But I didn’t hear that in a magazine…’

His eyes traced mine and I could tell he was confused. ‘Then where did you hear it?’

I closed my eyes and bit my lip, already feeling regretful of what I was about to say.

‘Poppy.’

‘What?’

‘I heard it from Poppy.’

He didn’t say anything, instead he just chose to stare at me as though I must’ve been mistaken.

‘The night they came around to your Mom’s, when I was there, I was on my way back out to the rest of you when I heard her talking to Shauna in the kitchen about how all you do is date “bimbos” and she didn’t care to get to know me because I was going to be “gone in a couple of months” and that, like I said, I was “an up and coming nobody who is just a bit of fun for you”.’ 

It felt hurtful all over again and I felt embarrassed regaling it to Chris, who had decided to remain silent about it.

I didn’t try to fill the silence, instead deciding to let him process it at his own speed.

Eventually, he furrowed his brows and spoke up.

‘Why didn’t you tell me at the time?’

‘Because… these people are your friends and I didn’t know what to do. I felt humiliated.’ I confessed.

‘Is this why you’ve been ignoring me?’

I shrugged my shoulders before giving a pathetic nod.

He nodded himself as he once again retreated to his mind to process things. He pulled away and stood up as he thought about it.

The silence was killing me.

‘Please don’t hate me.’

He immediately looked down at me before re-taking his spot next to me on the bed.

‘I don’t hate you Adrian. That’s crazy talk. I just… wish you’d told me before taking their word for it.’ I could hear it in his voice again. He was hurt.

‘I know, I know. I just managed to convince myself that they knew you better than me and I just-‘ I paused, debating on whether or not to finish my sentence. ‘-didn’t want to get hurt again.’

His facial expression told me that he’d picked up on the ‘again’ part but he didn’t push it. Instead, he sighed.

‘Look, Adrian. From where I’m stood, you can either listen to Poppy, a jealous hater who will tell you I’m a womanizer who is incapable of settling down or you can listen to me…’ He leaned his face in close to mine. ‘… who will tell you that that is the biggest pile of crap I’ve ever heard.’

I looked at him as I took his words in before my face began to rise and I allowed myself to let out a little laugh as Chris raised a little smile himself.

‘You know, now that I think about it, Shauna did look pretty guilty when I went back out to them without you after I’d gone to check up on you.’

‘Shauna’s great! I really liked her.’ I assured, clamping my hands on his arm for emphasis. The feel of his hard bicep was enough to melt away any problems we had in my books.

‘What will you do about it?’ I asked hesitantly, hoping he would just let the whole thing go.

‘About Poppy?’ I nodded. ‘Eh, I’ll figure something out. She’s never really been my favorite.’

‘Then why are you friends with her?’

‘Honestly? She was a buddy of mine’s girlfriend, Owen. We went to high school together and everything, real close and he uh, he passed a couple of years ago in an accident and we always felt bad for her and felt as though he wouldn’t want us to just… give up on her. So we let her hang around.’

‘That’s really sweet of you.’ He was so perfect. Why had I listened to them!?

‘Yeah, well… not for much longer.’ He mused with a laugh.

‘Oh God.’ I groaned as I ran my hand down my face, feeling bad to have come between him and friends.

‘Don’t feel bad. You’re doing me a favor. It’s all good.’

I let my hand fall to my lap off of my face and watched him as he calculated something in his head.

I leant forward and placed my chin on his shoulder and whispered in his ear.

‘Thank you for talking to me.’ I spoke sincerely. I felt so much better and I knew I owed Amy and Amanda an apology for having ignored their advice for so long.

He turned his head in my direction to his shoulder before reaching down and picking up my hand and giving it a quick but sweet kiss.

‘We better head back down before they fire us both for playing hooky at our own party.’

‘No you go first, I’ll be down in a second, I just have to check my makeup.’

‘Alright, I’ll see you down there.’ He said and got up to give me one last lingering look before fixing his hair and jacket in the mirror and exiting the room.

I didn’t want to bother Talia, my regular makeup girl, who was probably downstairs enjoying herself so I made my way over to my own bag to see what I could use to top up my lips with.

----

As I gazed at the plethora of finger food they had on spread I frowned. This dress was so tight I could barely breathe, never mind intake a single calorie. I noticed Amy didn’t eat anything either because, in her words, ‘I don’t eat anything I can’t pronounce’ and there was plenty of foreign food on display.

After I had gotten back downstairs, I couldn’t spot Chris nor had I seen him since, but I was well aware that our absence meant that we had a lot of schmoozing to make up for.

As bougie and as lovely as the opulence of this party had been, by 9:30 I had resigned myself to death by starvation and lack of oxygen intake. My powwow with Chris had taken a lot of emotion out of me and so I could feel myself start to zone out in a tired and deprived state.

Never the less, with Amy by my side, I persevered on for the grand total of another half an hour before letting officials know that I would be calling it a night. They all told me what a fabulous job I’d done and how stunning I looked tonight and I thanked them one more time for choosing me for this campaign.

Back in the room, Amy instantly kicked off her heels and I followed suit, wanting nothing more than to get this beautiful death trap off of me.

We’d only been back in the room for five minutes before a knock befell the room.

‘Will you get that?’ I asked Amy as I attempted to unzip the dress from my position in the bathroom. I had undone the buttons at the back that restricted my midriff so airflow was back in business for me.

‘Sure.’

Not two seconds later did she call back in a sing song voice that it was for me. Abandoning my post at the sink, I walked around corner and could feel myself light up as I saw Chris and his assistant Jake on the other side.

‘You guys wanna grab some real food?’

I smiled at them and looked back at Amy, biting my entire lip in anticipation.

‘Food?’ I asked.

Before I could even finish, she had grabbed her bag and key card and was out the door. ‘FOOD.’ She called.

I decided not to bother changing otherwise I would have held everyone up so I just threw on a jumper Amy had with her over the top to hide the unbuttoned hooks at the back and slipped on the pair of tennis shoes I wore earlier to the hotel. Sure I stood out like a sore thumb, but this is New York after all.

Forty minutes later, having rounded up a couple more hungry troops, Amy, Talia, a couple of people from Chris’ team I didn’t know, Jake, Chris and I all sat around a rustic Italian restaurant that stayed open late and indulged.

Whilst Chris and I sat next to each other, we weren’t being overtly romantic. In fact, we weren’t being romantic at all. To those at the table who didn’t now, we looked as though we had simply become good friends over our time filming in Italy.

It was nice being in a group of people that were used to this. It wasn’t like at Chris’ where I was a complete alien to his friends, these people were aware we worked together and were obviously used to being around co-stars of their clients etc. My people included.

As we ate, Jake and Chris told differentiating stories about their initial work relationship and how awkward it was in the beginning.

‘He used to be so serious. I’m not even kidding. Like, don’t even try to deny it!’ Jake joked.

I watched as Chris laughed along, trying to hold up his hands in innocence. ‘What!? Oh, come on! Me? Serious??’

Jake gave him one look, so much as to say ‘Oh please!’ before Chris conceded. ‘A’rite, a’rite. In my defense though, having an assistant was pretty alien to me so I didn’t really know where the line was.��

‘Sure, sure.’ Jake teased.

‘You’re like the opposite of Adrian.’ Amy chimed in to my surprise. ‘Literally, in the beginning I had trouble getting her to take me seriously at all. I would tell her we needed to be somewhere or that she had to do something and my response was either a laugh in my face or a “Orrrr we could do this instead” and I’d be like “Adrian, no! That’s not how this works!”’ Everyone began to laugh, myself included, albeit with a light blush now.

When the waiter came over with the bill it wasn’t two seconds before Chris sat forward and dug his wallet and card out of his back pocket and gave it to him, letting out a nonchalant yet somehow humble ‘I got it.’ He really was so sweet and thoughtful.

I recognized that the restaurant really wasn’t that far from my apartment so, much to their delight, I decided to let Amy and Talia have the rooms that Gucci had reserved for me at the St Regis and sleep in my own bed tonight. Amy immediately insisted that she go with me when I mentioned that I was going to walk home. I could feel little butterflies creep in when Chris piped up and offered an ‘It’s alright, I can walk you.’ I gave him an appreciative smile before turning back and watching Amy as she conceded, probably more than aware that we’d want to talk some more.

On our way out, we thanked the staff for their excellent service and filed out, ready to part ways with one another. The cold night hit me like a wall of knives, the thin material of the dress doing little to protect me from the New York air.

Amy shot me one last look as she tied her coat up fully.

‘I’ll be fine.’ I smiled reassuringly but her scepticism seemed deep rooted. ‘You’re entirely sure you don’t want me to walk you?’ She whispered. ‘I know you talked and all but he seems kind of quiet tonight.’

I shook my head and brushed off her worries. Sure he seemed quiet, but we’d all had a long day.

I continued to smile at her and pulled her in for a hug. ‘Go! Have a good night and make sure you have one for me in the bar.’

She begrudgingly hugged me back and whispered ‘good luck’ before releasing me and heading off with the others.

I watched them walk off into the distance before biting my lip and turning around to see Chris still talking to Jake. I couldn’t quite hear what they were saying but it seemed important.

Rather than stand there awkwardly and seem as though I was eavesdropping, I pulled my phone out as a means of distraction and checked the time. 12:03am. I looked around and my focus fell down at the main street, marveling at how it never ceased. Cars whizzed by and people roamed as though it were three in the day.

As I watched, I made a note to myself to take the quieter route back. It would take a little longer but it would mean running into less people.

As another sweep of cold air hit me, I finally decided to look back at the men and saw they were putting their phones away and wrapping it up. They hugged and I could faintly make out Chris mention to him that ‘I’ll see you in a few weeks buddy, take care.’ A few weeks? I wondered where Jake was off to…

Jake’s eyes moved to land on me and he shot me a nod and a wave as a means of a parting and I immediately reciprocated, calling over how nice it was to see him again.

Finally Chris himself turned around and stuck his hand in his pocket as he made his way over to me sheepishly.

‘Sorry about that.’

‘No, no, it’s fine.’ I smiled and turned around as we began our walk back to my place.

A silence fell over us as we walked along, which made the question in my mind burn louder and I figured it wouldn’t be too invasive if I asked, right?

‘Is Jake taking some time off?’ I inquired as I once again tried to wrap the sweater around me as tightly as possible. It really wasn’t that bad, I’d definitely experienced worse chills, it was just that this dress was so damn thin I may as well have been naked under the sweater.

‘Uh no,’ he started before pausing. ‘Well, technically yes but it’s uh, it’s me who’s taking the time off.’ He explained. I could feel my ears prick up at this and glanced over at him briefly, quirking an eyebrow in the process. ‘Oh?’

‘Yeah. That was a pretty hectic few months as far as they go. I thought I better find some down time before I go stir crazy..’ He made an attempt at a laugh and it suddenly hit me that he was acting awkward. I realized that he hadn’t looked at me once since we’d started our little walk and his tone seemed different; distant almost.

I pressed on, trying to ignore this slight bubbling feeling in my stomach.

‘So what are your plans?’

My teeth chattered as I spoke and it seemed as though that was enough for him to finally look my way.

With a frown he declared, ‘Ah jeez, you’re freezing!’ and stopped for a second to hastily pull his jacket off and lightly place it on my shoulders. He rubbed my arms up and down over the thick fabric and I smiled at him in appreciation, adoring to feel his touch after so long.

I thought he might perhaps sling his arm around me as we walked but instead I received a thin smile before he pulled away fully and placed his hands back into his pockets as we began to walk again. The bubbling feeling in my stomach seemed to declare itself as unsettlement and a blanket of awkwardness once again descended upon us.

I shook my head of these fears, not allowing them to take over, things were fine, and instead I softly repeated my question from before.

‘So? Your plans?’

‘Oh, yeah, right, my plans!’ He seemed to think about it for a second and I couldn’t tell if he was genuinely thinking about what his plans were or debating about whether or not he was going to tell them to me…

Thankfully, it seemed to be the former.

‘I have this cabin in a woodland area that me, my Dad and Scott built about 30 minutes from where my Dad lives. It’s near a reserve so there’s nobody around for miles except for a couple other summer cabin owners. It’s kinda like my little retreat I go to get away sometimes.’

‘That sounds nice. A cabin in the woods sounds very you.’ I teased, praying to uplift this awkward wall between us and to my relief, he gave a sweet smile and a nod.

‘Yeah, it’s far enough out from the city that you can see all the stars at night and I can sit there for hours, just, embracing it for all it’s worth.’ He mused and I watched as his face lit up at even the thought of it. It was like he was showing a glimpse of the little boy inside of him.

‘Will you do that the whole time?’

‘Nah, I told my Mom I’d help her out with a couple of things that need fixing around the house. Scott’s no good at that kind of thing..’ He explained before trailing off.

I smiled even though I could feel my heart sinking. Definitely not rushing to make plans with you then Adrian…

For politeness purposes I’m sure, he asked if I had much coming up work-wise.

‘I actually have the rest of the week off.’ I had asked Amy ages ago to set it up that way so that I’d have time to spend with Chris…

‘That’s cool. Any plans?’ My heart was truly drowning now.

I shook my head and gave a low ‘nothing’, resigned now to the fact despite our talk earlier, I had completely screwed this up.

Our small talk only got smaller as we eventually reached my building.

As I made my way up the steps towards the entrance door, I noticed that I could only hear one set of footsteps and turned to see that Chris wasn’t beside me. I turned fully and saw that he’d stopped.

‘You’re not coming in?’ I inquired, hesitantly.

‘Uh no, if it’s alright with you I’m gonna head off, it’s.. kinda late.’

He scratched his head as I stood there staring at him. I could feel my throat closing up and I tried as best I could to swallow any warnings of the bile that threatened to rise.

You haven’t screwed this up Adrian, you’ve fucked it. Well and truly fucked it.

Not wanting to cause a scene or draw any attention to us, I cleared my throat and stepped back down towards him. We were both silent as I gently and, ashamedly, quite sadly peeled his coat off of my shoulders and handed it back to him. I felt like I couldn’t look at him for fear of making an idiot of myself, so I simply stared at the pavement as he accepted it from me. He gave me a ‘thank you’, to which I quietly thanked him back for letting me borrow it.

As I stood there, cold again, the severity of my actions dawned on me and as the silence continued to build, so did my self-loathing.

‘I really like you, Adrian.’

My head shot up and I found myself making eye contact with a pair of remorseful baby blues.

‘All I’ve done these past two weeks is think about you and what I’d done to screw this up.’ He was being so gentle. It was killing me. ‘I felt like I was being punished for something I didn’t do…’

I closed my eyes, well aware of what he was talking about. I slowly began to nod my head and gave a meek ‘… I know.’ I then peeled my eyes back open and looked at him with a sincerely apologetic face. ‘I know. I’m sorry. It’s me, I’m stupid like that sometimes, I-’

‘You’re not stupid.’ He interjected firmly.

‘No, I am. I don’t think sometimes…’

He watched me carefully and somewhat sympathetically as I rambled on about how I shouldn’t have done what I did before interrupting me.

‘Can I be honest with you?’

I nodded my head, although I was terrified of what he might say.

‘I have zero clue as to what has gone on in your life before me Adrian. But… part of me thinks you have these trust issues.’ Oh God. ‘Which is fine! We all have those.’ He clarified. ‘But maybe now isn’t a good time. If you feel like you can’t trust me, then what hope do we have? You know?’

Fucked it. Explosively fucked it all up.

I was speechless. It was what everyone had been telling me this whole time but it seemed that hearing it from Chris’ mouth was what I really needed to make it hit home.

‘Maybe you were right earlier. Maybe… we’re better off being friends right now.’

It was like punch after punch.

I couldn’t even bring myself to say anything. I couldn’t believe this was happening.

Noting my extended silence, Chris took a deep breath and looked around him before bending down and giving me a final kiss on the cheek, an ‘I’m sorry’ and reluctantly walking away, leaving me standing there in the cold.

--------

The end.

No I’m kidding, can you imagine? Hahaha. 

Adrian’s going to have to think outside of the box if she wants to fix this pickle!

I haven’t been on here in so long I feel so rambley, but seriously, thank you so much for all the love, it’s so appreciated and i’m so happy people have enjoyed this story and it kills me that updates have taken so long but i’m hoping to be up on the laptop game at some point next week. But who knows, while my brother’s one is here, I might even see if I can get some writing done tonight and tomorrow <3

[jaygraphicarts2-blog]

Illustrator Workshop - ‘Insecticons’

I found my last workshop focusing on the pentool to be too comfortable as I wasn’t restricting myself enough; causing my outcome to be more complex and therefore less effective as a logotype. So for this workshop, the aim is to push a subject as far as possible into simplicity whilst keeping its original look recognisable to any viewer. To do so, using Susan Kare as the main inspiration, the task was to create pixel graphics of various bugs and insects and using the medium of pixel graphics to understand how to identify what features should remain and which features can be removed without affecting the overall functionality of the mark.

After being hired onto the software team for Macintosh, Susan Kare worked on many of the user interfaces and typefaces for the product. I am using her as a reference as her work was very limited to the small resolution of the original Macintosh screen. She was faced with a similar task as I have for the ‘Animal Instincts’ brief: to simplify the visual information of numerous subjects, but being bound to just the pixel restrictions of the screen forced her to adapt her process.

She overcome this problem by sketching out the iconography onto grid paper, using the binary code of the screen to her advantage. Using a mixture of highlighters, pens and pencils, she would use the structure of the grid with nothing else other than selecting boxes to fill or keep empty to portray each icon, meaning the outcomes could be easily implemented onto the Macintosh and be perceived well by the audience.

Modernism

Although Susan Kare’s approach to the graphics was caused by a limitation which is now no longer an issue, pixel graphics and grid systems are still used to create logos as well as other graphic examples (such as video game artwork). I wanted to look at a more modern approach to the use of grid paper so I could see how I could perhaps use the method more effectively in creating a modernist logo. 

This owl logo made by Ethan Fender demonstrates how simplified you can take an animal logo by only using basic shapes. All whilst retaining a grid system in which the shapes are placed onto ensuring the logo is as balanced as possible.

Process

Insects were the main theme surrounding this workshop, so it was a priority to simplify the intricate details of them to the point where the original insect could still be interpreted. In a similar fashion to the previous pentool workshop, but this time there are strict limitations in place in regards to how many ‘pixels’ or grids we could use to fill with colour. To reflect the earlier process of Kare’s work, I confined all of the sketches into 16x16 grids, making sure to mark the centre point so my bugs would be symmetrical to portray their balanced look. For this reason, the reference images are from an aerial view, ensuring I can keep my pixel graphics symmetrical as I recreate them. 

Usually when sketching, I would plan out a more rough revision before going over in a finer line detail. Using the grid paper meant it was harder to do this, as each individual grid was either going to be filled or not. Therefore instead of planning the shape of the insect beforehand, I proceeded onto the final piece from the start. 

After multiple cases of removing sections which I thought were unnecessary and experimenting with what else I could add, this was my final result.

I still found my outcome to be recognisable as an insect, but I felt like the original unique characteristics of the subject had been lost in the pixelation of it. The main thing which is evident is the 16x16 grid forcing me to keep the insect a certain size played a part in how much the overall size of the insect was affected. As I was working in a square, I had to either make it smaller horizontally or vertically, and I think this is the main difference which caused it to lose its original individualism. On the other hand, in terms of communicating an insect, I think it works well despite being made out of a miniature grid of squares.

After not being completely happy with the first outcome I continued onto a second insect which I thought to be easier to communicate and abstract into the grid. 

I feel like this design works better in communicating the original features of the insect, so I wanted to take this concept a bit further. The reason I felt this one worked better is because the unique elements of the image were the only things I kept (the body shape, the long extensions towards the top and the repeating ridges in the body). Now, it doesn’t just reflect a common insect shape but now translates to a specific one from the numerous examples I had to choose from. 

What I learnt from this stage in the process is a workflow that proved efficient for me to strip back an animal form to only it’s main features and further simplify these into the most basic shapes. This is especially important in making a modernist logo as the outcomes of this task work well against the rules of a successful logo: 

Works in a single colour

Adaptable across every application

Memorable

Unique

Relevant to brand

To explore how certain areas of visual language can affect a logo, I took this second pixel graphic and repeated the same shape on a sheet of larger grid paper. Along with this, I combined the process with various highlighters for a vibrant colour pallet so the effect of scale/colour was emphasised and clear.

Now I had a larger and more saturated version, the effect of colour and size was clear to me. The difference between the initial smaller sketch and the highlighter application can be compared to how a logo changes from different ways it is implemented into a brand. Because I worked from the smallest version with no colour first, this guaranteed the logo would work well in that setting. Whereas if I started with a larger version and didn’t give myself a restriction of colour, it would be harder to make work at a smaller size in just one colour. 

Vectoring

As an extension to the workshop, I wanted to explore how the visual language would differ between the sketches and using a digital grid to create the logos.

By using a grid in Illustrator and making sure to enable ‘snap to grid’, I was able to add shapes to the canvas using the Illustrator grid as a template. I added many rectangles to serve as the grids I filled in on paper and finished with a more clinical and structured pair of insect logos. 

Now I had a digital version of both, I was able to experiment with the scale and make any adjustments easier to get a better understanding of how versatile they could be used. The result - I could scale them all the way down to just 16 by 16 pixels on the screen (demonstrated in the image above) and the original look of the insect still remained which illustrates how a good logo should be perceived.

Reflecting on some of the key terms I highlighted when responding to the brief, now that the logos were a vector graphic they fit the descriptions better. Due to the lack of texture from rough marks on the paper, the image was more neutral and could work better as a logo.

Further Development

Using the same process I used to produce the insect pixel graphics, I wanted to apply the same workflow to a subject relevant to what I plan to do for my final logo. I figured a Blue Jay has less intricate details than the insects I was given to recreate for the workshop, so I wanted to attempt to make a graphic 8x8 grid, as well as the normal 16x16 I was using previously. I was curious to see if further drawing back down detailed I could make the illustration would work in my favour, making the outcome even more minimal, or would be going too far in terms of abstraction.

8x8

I quickly realised how limiting the number of squares made it much harder to communicate the original image. This version I find to be not effective at all, as none of the unique features of the Jay Bird are prominent enough to be noticed. I subsequently moved on to the 16x16 grid to focus more on a larger grid.

16x16

Just with 8 more pixels in both directions to work onto allows for a lot more detail to be added. However because I was still using the 16x16 grid as before, I was still limited to how many features I could have. I believe this grid was the perfect balance between having to simplify the Jay bird at the same time as the outcome being interpreted clearly. In comparison to the 8x8 grid, this grid allowed me to maintain the eye detail, the larger black area and the more organic shape of the head. 

The final stage of this exploration included adding colour digitally to the pixel graphic mainly to see how it would affect the success as a logo. Although it may look better, referring back to the brief where there was a strong priority on functionality over form, as a logo having more complex colour hinders how accessible and ubiquitous it is.  

Moving Forward

Overall this workshop was definitely a success for me. Before today, I was struggling to simplify the details of animals, but forcing myself to selectively keep only the most important parts allowed me to go past the barrier of trying to reflect the animal too literally. From this point I want to research and explore other types of grid systems such as triangular/circular grids using the owl logo by Ethan Fender as my first example on what can be achieved. The grids used in this workshop work well to simplify complex subjects, but I am aware there are other ways different geometry can be implemented into a logo and I want to go into more detail with how this can be achieved and perhaps put some other grids into practice. 

Angus Hyland is a logo designer I’ve already researched who uses both rectangles and circles in synergy with each other, specifically in the Barwis logo example. This shows me how strong both simple shapes could be used together, so it’s important for me to explore different types of logo grids that don’t use rectangles exclusively.