#but again - yvette is barely even around so far

[sunshineandviolets]

catching up on dirty little secrets cause the new chapter

and honestly why is Sadie so much more of an compelling and interesting character than our actual love interest

[house-of-no-regrets]

No Regrets [in the wee hours]

Took a bit longer than expected, but I’ve finished the next little story! Hopefully I’ll be able to keep a decent pace on these. No overarching plot, just little stories in the same universe with the same characters. Warning for ~*murder*~ in this one!

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

I've been all-too-easy to wake up since I was a child; I'd often needed to go from dead asleep to functional, if groggy, as soon as I heard my father demanding action or attention. While I no longer need that reaction time, the old man long since locked up to rot, my brain is set in its ways and very convinced that I need to be able to bolt out of bed and fight God if a dust bunny moves too quickly in my vicinity.

Which is how I found myself waking up in the middle of the night, the sudden shift in the atmosphere bringing on consciousness with all the subtlety of a foghorn.

My room was silent, still, but I knew without opening my eyes that there was a spirit somewhere, and I didn't even give them a chance to speak before I pointed at the sign posted on my wall, barely shifting from my comfortable snuggle in my blanket and not even opening my eyes. Yes, this happens more often than I care to admit. No, I do not enjoy it. At all.

"Resurrection hours are noon to eight. I'm still alive and still need sleep to function."

There was silence, but the presence didn't leave, so I groaned and raised my head, finally opening my eyes to see the translucent, vaguely glowing, and unfortunately blurry spirit at the foot of my bed.

It did finally speak in a bewildered voice.

"Um, I'm being murdered."

Ah, fuck.

I grabbed my glasses from the bedside table and put them on. The spirit at the foot of my bed was tallish -- I've always been bad at estimating height, maybe half a foot shorter than Yvette? Five-nine... ish? -- and seemed to be in his twenties. There was a considerable dark stain on his chest and belly; likely blood, and the cause of his death. The newly-dead tend to show things like that, as they haven't had the time to get used to modifying their form.

I really hate it when brand new ones find me. I'm not sure how it started, but it seems like more and more often, now, the dead are drawn to No Regrets before they even realize they're dead, at least if they're the type to need my help. Wish I wasn't the one who had to break it to him. I'm not great with people.

"Sorry, bro, but I'm afraid they succeeded. Where was it? I'll get the police over there."

"Uhh... my house. I think. It's a little..."

I sighed. Right.

"You're probably a little out of it still... fresh dead usually are. C'mon, I'll take you around until things look familiar."

Climbing out of bed, I headed over to grab my hoodie from the back of the chair. I learned the hard way that sleeping is not a tits out sort of occasion when you're liable to get the dead dropping in at all hours of the night, so I sleep in pajama pants and a tank top. Little too chilly for tank tops outside, though. I shoved my phone in my hoodie and my feet into loafers, then started heading out of my room and down the hall.

"You remember your name?" I asked, trying to make conversation and learn what I could.

"Uh, Davis. Craig? Craig Davis."

"Well, Craig Davis, I'm sorry to hear about your passing. You're gonna need to possess me for this little adventure, by the way, but I'll walk you through it once we're outside."

"I- what?"

Considering how often I find myself lost in normal conversations, dealing with confused new spirits is especially difficult. Still shaking off my body's angry demands for More Sleep was not helping matters in the slightest, either.

"Possession. I'll explain it in just a minute." I rubbed an eye and yawned as I stopped in the foyer to pull a set of keys off one of the hooks on the wall.

Usually, I've got a driver. Not for vanity reasons, but after three or four near-misses caused by Sudden Spirits appearing in the car with me, I elected to hire someone to drive me into and around town as needed. But it was Fuck-This-Shit O'Clock in the morning, and Graves deserved their rest. The dead don't need to sleep, but they can if they so choose -- and it does, after all, conserve energy. The same goes for Yvette and Ashby; it was too early in the morning for most people to be out and searching for a necromancer to kill, so I wasn't gonna disturb them. I could handle a simple spirit chauffeur and 911 call on my own.

The keys were to the motor scooter; it was the better choice in this situation, allowing for more mobility and no passenger seat for any extra ghosts to drop into. That did, though, mean that Craig would need to ride shotgun in my body.

When I got out to the green scooter in the driveway, I paused and looked over at Craig.

"Hey, I know you're probably still a little out of it, so Possession 101." Script time. At least having this stuff memorized made it easier to do while dozy. "Our bodies need to take up the same space, so c'mere." I beckoned Craig over.

"So like… step into you?" He asked. Good, seemed like his head was clearing up some.

"Yeah, that's part 1."

He nodded and complied, crossing the space between us and settling in the same location, the two of us clipped into each other like bugged NPCs. It always felt so weird, those moments before a spirit actually possesses you. A sort of wobbly, in-and-out feeling like physics is trying to crush you and the spirit together, or, failing that, just kick your ass to the ground so you're not both in the same place at the same time.

"A'ight, now turn around and face the direction I’m facing, and overlay your hands onto mine as best you can." It was just a moment for him to obey, and I continued. "I'm not resisting, so you're gonna start feeling like you're being pulled in and pushed out at the same time. Space is trying to equalize. Let yourself be pulled in. It's gonna feel a bit like-"

The whirlpool effect kicked in before I could finish, the sudden snap and release of tension as Craig's spirit sank into my body. I wobbled a bit and grabbed the handlebar in front of me, then shivered at the sudden chill and dizziness. I'm pretty good at taking on passengers like this, but that didn't make it any more pleasant.

"You in there, buddy?" I asked out loud. Especially with new spirits, trying to think at each other was more trouble than it was worth. My lips moved to answer, though it wasn't my voice coming out.

"Uh- yeah. Yeah I'm here."

I grabbed the helmet hanging on the other handlebar and snapped it on, kicking the stand up and plopping heavily onto the seat.

"Great. Let's go."

"Wait, why am I not in control?" came Craig's confused voice. He felt almost frustrated, an undercurrent of emotion that wasn't mine despite being in my mind and body.

"Because this is my body, and I let you in willingly. Easier to keep control when you're letting someone in. Plus," I gave a little snort. "You just died, dude. I've been letting spirits possess me since middle school."

I felt his frustration turn to grumpiness, and then the pressure in my head, like a storm rolling in, that I knew from experience was him trying to take control. I froze and let out an irritated huff.

"You stop that. I'm not dealing with you doing some dumb shit with my body. Either chill out or get out."

"Oh- uh. Just wanted to see if I could…"

"Uh-huh. Anyhow, now that you're together enough to try joyriding, do you remember much about where you were before you were killed?"

I started up the scooter as emotions rolled through my mind, detached and distant, almost like the muffled dissociation I was used to mid-shutdown. Possessing spirits' emotions always felt weird like that, both mine and not mine, held at arm's length. Craig's was especially turbulent for a new death, but given that he had been murdered… I didn't fault him for being a little confused and angry. Even if it did put me a little on edge. 

"Uh- South Pine Street, Dogwood Acres housing development."

"Baller. That's not far from here. Once we get close to your body, you should be able to feel where it is, so I'll have a house number for the police. Don't want to have them scream in all blue lights and loud sirens and have your killer go to ground before they know which house, y'know?"

The muffled flare of anger that I felt was definitely not my own. I took a deep breath, hoped that the killer had panicked and tried to clean up instead of get rid of the body first, and puttered off towards Dogwood.

The housing development was quiet, lines upon lines of identical suburban boxes lit by flickering street lights that cast the sidewalks and yards in harsh white light. The occasional house had the glow of yellow within, but most of them were dormant. Weaving my way through the maze of streets, each one absolutely indistinguishable from the one before and the one to come, I felt terribly exposed -- and alone despite the spirit currently hitching along in my body.

I turned onto South Pine and brought my scooter to a puttering stop, stabilizing it with both feet on the ground. I couldn't help but bounce my legs to replace the vibration of driving; the sudden lack of sensation would ratchet my anxiety up even if I wasn't currently letting a frustrated dead man hang out in my head to catch his murderer.

...I should be more than a little anxious, really, but half-asleep Tabby once again wrote a check that more-awake Tabby is having to cash, and more-awake Tabby is very used to having to deal with the consequences of her idiot decisions. It occurred to me that normal peoples' consequences didn't usually involve murder, but when you live with the dead, you're bound to meet a few killers.

Two houses down, I could feel- not a tug so much as a presence, an echo of Craig's spirit reacting to his body. It was the only one on the street with its lights on and its garage, while not lit, was open. There was a car in the garage, another in the driveway, and a pickup at the curb in front.

"258?" I asked Craig, though I knew the answer already. His anger flared and I felt the oncoming storm again. I snapped at him. "That's two strikes, Craig. I'm sorry for your death, but if you end up driving my body into a crime scene or, god forbid, getting me killed next, I will kick your ass to whatever afterlife you're headed for and stay there to keep kicking it for eternity."

Big words for a short fat lady, but this is, in fact, my body on the line right now. I probably wouldn't be able to follow through on any ass-kicking, but dammit, I would try.

Craig was silent, and I could feel him steaming, petulant like a child denied a toy but with the power of a grown man behind it. With my stomach tying itself in knots and my hands starting to tremble, I dialed 911, hoping it would help quell the rising panic.

"258 South Pine Street. I think there's been a murder. I don't know the state of the crime scene or if the perp is still there, but you might be able to catch them if you hurry. The victim is Craig Davis, white adult male, either shot or stabbed in the chest, likely multiple times-"

"Wait, is this Tabby? The necro girl?"

Oh god I hope that isn't what the operators call me regularly-- I know I'm a bit of a 911 cryptid, since the usual intruder calls are to the non-emergency line, but if I get known as the necro girl I might have to move to a different state.

"Yeah, uh, necromancer, yeah-" I couldn't help but stumble over my words, now, with my train of thought derailed by the interruption. "-uh, murder?"

"Right! I'll send someone."

I murmured a thanks and hung up before she could ask me to stay on the line. I already had to stay around for the cops so Craig could give a statement, and making small talk with the 911 operator was not in the spoons tonight.

I don't like cops much, but in my line of work, they're kind of a necessity. I need to stay on the police force's good side because I need them to remove attempted murderers from my property on the regular. ...and also because graverobbing is still technically illegal, even if I do have the body owner's permission to dig them up.

At least most of the locals who know of me and my employees are chill about it. It took a bit of effort to get to that point, but now at least people don't run screaming from the less-presentable of my employees…

The blue lights of the police showed up fairly quickly, followed almost immediately by the red flashing of EMS. I puttered up slowly and parked my scooter just out of range as the officers set to work surrounding the house, then hung my helmet on a handlebar and walked up the rest of the way to watch the impending train wreck. I could feel Craig's anger boiling higher and tried my best to ignore it; Craig himself seemed to have fallen silent and sullen after I called him out.

"Tabby!"

I was standing just off to the side of the ambulance when someone stepped up behind me and called my name, making me jump and cringe.

"Oh- oh dear, I'm sorry, Tabs. I thought I heard you were the one who called this in!"

I straightened up immediately, face burning. I recognized that voice, bright and smooth and kind and--

"J-Jenna!" My voice was barely a squeak as I turned to face her, looking up at the round, dark face of one of the EMTs. She was a good six feet tall, maybe more, towering above me even in her uniform flats, with a brilliant smile and full lips and gorgeous natural hair pulled through the back of her uniform cap, the streetlight illuminating her from behind like a halogen angel.

Jenna had shown up to one of my early calls for assistance at No Regrets, and then she kept turning up, not every time I was in a situation where I'd be around EMTs, but often.

Concern showed on her face as she leaned to look me over.

"Are you okay? Did you see it happen, or-"

I shook my head, buying time to sort out words by tapping my temple with a finger.

"N-no, I uh- the victim woke me up, he's in here, uh, in case the cops need somethin' from him."

"Oh… are you getting enough sleep, dear? You sound exhausted. Do you want to sit in the back of the truck?"

It took me a second or two to recover from the way she called me dear, my face burning bright red. I couldn't make eye contact even for the second or two I can usually manage so that people don't immediately think I'm being dishonest.

"I- uh- um- w-well, it's, uh, it is like 4am--" I stammered, trying desperately to find words. "I-I guess 'm sleepin' okay, uh, how're… you doing??"

I have never been a great orator and the list of why that is gets a bit longer with every um and stutter.

Jenna's face bloomed into a gorgeous, open grin.

"I'm on 12-hour overnights right now, so I'm basically at least 60 percent Red Bull at any given time. Everyone okay up there at the House? Last I heard y'all were digging up half the lawn.”

I nodded, unable to keep from grinning. At least this was a subject I could talk to her about without making an absolute ass of myself--

"Yeah! The new girl, Chris, she's gotten Daryl and Roy to help her get the vegetable garden going! It's plenty big enough to take care of all of us, and I worked out a deal with the soup kitchen so that they get any of our excess, once things are running smoothly, and I can use their account to buy from that bulk food program that's usually only open to chari- oop-!" I bit my tongue and cringed. Right. I'm pretty sure that's technically fraud and I just admitted to it in front of-

There was a commotion from the house that snapped me back to attention, and the cops were leading a man out in handcuffs. He looked pale and shaken, spattered in blood, and not quite… present, like he had just checked out of reality for his own good. That… was a familiar look. I furrowed my brow. He certainly didn't look like a maniacal killer-

"He caught me with his wife," I said. Well. Craig said. I jumped. Jenna jumped. I flushed and covered my mouth reflexively.

"N-no that was him! The victim!" I squeaked. Jenna laughed, a hearty belly laugh, and covered her own mouth, though she was doing a terrible job of hiding her grin.

"I figured! If he caught you with his wife, it would be an upgrade!"

At this point, you could probably fry an egg on my face. Hell, my glasses were starting to fog up-- I stammered for a few moments, trying desperately to find something to say, and it was Craig who saved me, if you could call it that. I was too caught up in my embarrassment and awkwardness to realize how much anger and frustration he was radiating.

"Motherfucker told me he'd have my job! Son of a bitch thinks he can get away with doing this to me, he's gonna fucking pay--"

The oncoming storm crashed over me before I could get a grip on it, and all of a sudden I was lumbering forward, snarling words that weren't my own, and dragging a gardening pickaxe out of my truck -- Craig's truck -- on my way to the man and the cops--

I let out a shriek, in my own voice, feeling the sound cutting my throat raw. I wrested control of my body back with a lurch, falling on my ass in the yard with the force of it while the silvery-blue form of Craig was ejected from my body, screaming obscenities.

I threw my hand forward, fighting for whatever thoughts and words I could find to fix this. I saw Craig right himself and move back towards me, and the first incantation -- if you could call it that -- that my brain grasped left my lips in a single desperate breath, with a dizzying rush of power--

"INTHENAMEOFTHEMOONIBANISHYOU--!!"

The force of the hurried exorcism rushed outward like a sonic boom, strong enough for even the mundanes around me to feel, and Craig's spirit let out a yowl of rage for a brief second before twisting around itself and collapsing in with a sickening crunch, crushing smaller and smaller until it was gone.

I winced -- not my best exorcism. At all.

As the flare of adrenaline dropped almost immediately and I came back to myself properly, I realized -- blurrily, as my glasses had gotten thrown off somewhere -- at least two officers had their weapons half-drawn at me, though they were looking over at where Craig's spirit had disappeared.

I collapsed the rest of the way onto the grass, shaking, and covered my face with my hands, trying with everything within me not to start crying. I should have realized he'd try something like that, why hadn't I been paying attention- I could have been attacked, I could have been arrested, I could have had to watch myself beat a man to death and I- fuck--

The sob that came out was squeaky and pained, and I pressed my hands harder against my face, like that would stop anything else from going wrong. I should have brought someone-- I shouldn't have let him possess me-- I should have been paying more attention--

Warm tears ran from the corners of my eyes, down my cheeks, to pool in my ears, making my already-trembling body shiver harder with the unpleasant sensation. I'd let myself get complacent, hadn't lost control of a possession like that in years, and- I'd almost- fuck--

"Honey, honey, sit up for me. Tabby? C'mon, let's get you up--"

Numbly, I let Jenna help me into a sitting position, where she wrapped a blanket around me and pressed an open bottle of water into my hands.

"Take slow sips. Are you okay? Just shaken?"

I nodded, some part of me grateful that I couldn't quite see her face properly without my glasses, because I didn't want to see what she thought about me after that. She sighed, though, and sounded relieved when she murmured "Good."

My whole body felt like jelly, trembling so hard I could feel the water in the bottle sloshing around, and I kept flashing from too hot to too cold to too hot again, and I couldn't even sort out my thoughts--

Jenna sat down beside me and rubbed my back. If I wasn't having a complete breakdown, I might have enjoyed it.

I don't know how long it took for me to calm down and clear my head, but the car with the other man had left, and the other EMTs had loaded Craig's body into the ambulance while Jenna sat next to me and made sure I was doing okay.

After a while, though, I blinked and shifted my torso, then opened the blanket more and cursed at the bloom of red on my hoodie.

I heard Jenna curse as well as she stood up, but I grabbed her pants leg.

"N-no, 'm okay," I mumbled, and instead of trying to speak more, I reached to pull my hoodie and tank up my stomach to show bruised, but completely unbroken skin, covered in blood, rivulets following my stretch marks and making it look even worse despite my being otherwise completely uninjured. "See, 'm okay." This was not the first time I've had a possession lead to the dead's cause of death showing on my own body. It wasn't even the bloodiest.

Jenna sat back down, and I could see her leaning in a bit.

"Well damn. Magic ghost stuff, huh?"

I nodded.

"Magic ghost stuff."

I could see the flash of white against dark skin as she grinned.

"So that exorcism… Artemis or Usagi?"

It took me a moment to parse her.question, but all of a sudden I was completely back to myself, just in time to absolutely die of embarrassment.

"L-listen, I- y-you can exorcise i-in anyone's name, i-it's the power and conviction that counts--!!"

"Usagi, then." I could hear the laughter in her voice, laughter that bubbled out moments later. I wanted to crawl in a hole in embarrassment, but- it didn't feel like condescending laughter. I knew what that felt like. She seemed just genuinely amused. "I grew up with Sailor Moon, too."

I couldn't stop the squeak that eaked out, and I covered my face again.

"G-god I hope word about this doesn't get out, people already think I-I'm weird enough, and to- to fall back on anime for magic i-in a pinch is just--"

"Cute," Jenna finished.

I squeaked.

Jenna moved away for a moment, and then she settled my glasses on my nose. I couldn't make eye contact, but I did glance over at her and sheepishly murmur my thanks.

"The officers still want a statement from you, since you made the call and tried to go after the perp, but I don't think they're looking at any charges, given…" Jenna trailed off and looked over at where Craig had disappeared. "...yeah."

I nodded, slowly, and then found myself yawning, the adrenaline drop setting in especially hard.

"...d'you think it can wait 'til tomorrow… 've kinda had a rough night."

"I think they'll be okay with that."

[wlw-lovestruck-fiction]

Yvette fic where the MC generally doesn't like to be touched due to something traumatic in the past, and is always avoiding touch/leaning away from anyone, so when the curse is broken Yvette's worried about whether MC will react okay to her asking just to touch her hand, but instead when she asks MC just steps forward and hugs her because she feels completely safe with Yvette and wants to show her that?

…

Warning: Mentions of trauma

…

Touch had always been a tricky thing, for you.

You didn’t remember what caused it and your mom hadn’t been eager to discuss it, so the reason faded away to obscurity. You didn’t mind, since touch had never been a big part of your life anyway.

The weight and heat of a hand was off-putting, making you flinch away from it instinctively. Touches that were supposed to be comforting or supportive made your skin crawl, made you tense and remain there statue-like, eyes wide, mouth open in surprise. Handshakes were as far as you were willing to go, something everyone around you understood sooner or later.

You can’t help but feel a bit guilty when you meet Yvette. Touch is something you despise but something she desires above everything else. Regardless of how greedy she can be, however, Yvette is also the most respectful woman you had ever met. Your previous partners always broke up with you because they got annoyed you didn’t like cuddling, or even just hand holding. They stared at you, mouth pressed into a thin line, grumbling that why had you gotten with them in the first place if you hated their shows of affection so much.

Yvette just smiled at you once you explained and let her hand drop at her side, accepting everything without so much as a frown. Even when she got excited and reached for you, she always stopped, her eyes searching yours for permission. It was unbearably sweet.

Once you got to know someone (and you were really, really close), touch wasn’t revolting. Your mom could hug you and continue on, and you would sometimes seek her out for a hug too. It came as a surprise for you when you found yourself reaching for Yvette instead, on one of your dates. Her reaction had been beautiful to watch. Her eyes had sparkled like the sea illuminated by the moon, happy, confused, fascinated, worried all at once. Her smile had disappeared, lips curving into a perfect little ‘o’.

She had looked down at your hand, grasping her gloved one. She then looked at you as if you were a cat that had plopped on her lap after months of hiding under her bed, and the image had made you dissolve into a fit of laughter.

You had started out small – touches that lingered for too long always ended up making you uncomfortable – but Yvette was patient, and encouraging, and never got offended. She was too perfect to be real. You were afraid to wake up one day and find out this had all been a very vivid dream, yet it never happened.

You still felt bad, though. Touch meant so much to Yvette – in more ways than one, you were sides of the same coin. You considered touch off-putting while Yvette found it dangerous, always something that could take everything she loved away from her if she wasn’t careful. Both of you could become a mess if the matter was pushed too far. Yvette hid away behind a neutral expression, snappy, on edge, while you shut off to the world around you, everything suddenly becoming too much.

It’s because of that little issue that everyone is careful when Yvette breaks the curse, mindful of what could happen if they don’t give her space.

It was different before because there was always a layer of cloth in between you, but now…

“MC, look.” She whispers, in awe, looking down at the flower in her hands – bare, no gloves, and no jacket on her shoulders. Her fingers curl around stem and something tight but warm fills your chest at the sight.

You feel like you might cry, just watching the wonder in her eyes, her bewildered happiness. “How does it feel?” You ask, voice small.

“I… I can’t even begin to describe it…” She murmurs, holding the flower to her chest and letting out a shuddering sigh. “Everything I imagined doesn’t even come close to this…” She trails off, eyes flicking upwards. For the first time in ages, she seems hesitant.

You know exactly what she’s going to ask, but the thought doesn’t make you feel anxious. It spreads over you like a warm blanket, comforting, and you hadn’t known how much you wanted this until now.

“MC,” Yvette finally says. The flower trembles in her grasp. “MC, I know how difficult touch is for you, but I want… I’m sorry, it’s a selfish thought, but I still… I’d like to… may I hold your hand, please?”

She looks at you as if she’s afraid you will disappear, her hand moving towards yours. It freezes midway, hesitant, edging closer by a few millimeters before hanging there, and you stare at it for a second, willing your heart to calm down.

It’s okay. It’s okay. It’s Yvette – it’s the woman who has saved me and stood by my side no matter what.

The same woman that had accepted you with a smile and had always respected your boundaries. You knew that if you said no, she’d nod and move on, masking her hurt. The thing is, though, you didn’t want to say no…

“Yvette…” You murmur, hands reaching up only to pause. You could try a hug, they were awkward due to lack of practice and, really, you were no Nahara, but what really makes you hesitate is Yvette herself.

You know how awful it can be to get more than you are ready to endure, so you instead comply to her original request, hands moving to grasp hers as if she were a lifeline and you a drowning woman.

You try to be slow and gentle, and Yvette’s eyes flick between the flower in her other hand to yours and back again, worried, anxious this is all just a joke, but when your skin touches… her shoulders sag, her lips form a soft ‘oh’ of surprise, and then she looks at you as if she hadn’t been expecting this at all, as if you were her stars and her sun and her moon.

“MC…”

“C-can I… well…” You bit your lip, eyeing her shoulders almost bashfully. “Can I hug you?”

“Are you sure? You don’t have to push yourself to-”

“I want to.”

She steps closer, whole body shivering. “Please,” is all she says, holding you tight once you let yourself fall into her outstretched arms.

The weight is dizzying. Initially, you want to shy away from it, from the pressure, but your brain quickly catches the offending urge and tramples over it, and you let yourself cry against Yvette’s shoulder because you are happy, so wonderfully happy, and Yvette is free, finally free.

You couldn’t be happier.

[themadlostgirl]

When It’s Cold (7)

*I have a vague inclination of where this story is heading. I went into this without an ending in mind so we’re letting go of the wheel and seeing where it takes us.*

~~~

After I showered and got changed I went downstairs. Felix had made an easy lunch of sandwiches and popcorn and set up the living room to play whatever movie I wanted to watch. I chose a nice comedy and sat down next to Felix.

Images of what we had done this morning still danced shamelessly in my head. How could Felix sit there so calmly? All we were doing was watching a movie, something we did quite frequently, and yet I couldn’t keep my thoughts straight. Even the slight touch of his thumb mindlessly stroking my arm was sending me into a tizzy.

I was hoping that after our escapades this morning that I would be cooler and more collected around Felix but it was ten times worse. I had gotten a taste and now it was all that I wanted. All I could think about. So again, how was it that Felix was sitting there so calmly? How was he not as infuriatingly turned on and jittery as me?

I kept my focus on the movie and my mind moved away from anything dirty as I started laughing at the group of dinner party guests running about a huge mansion in a paranoid craze on the TV. I made a joke to Felix about how if we ever hosted a dinner party it would most likely end up just like this. Hopefully with better food since that entree looked like a creamy, lumpy mess.

“Naturally,” Felix said, “I mean what kind of dinner was that supposed to be? Barely an hors d'oeuvre, a bland soup, skipped salad and appetizer completely and then served a gross main course, then no one partook in dessert. It’s a complete disaster!”

“You seem very passionate about this.” I chuckled. “Is there a guide to big fancy dinners in those cookbooks of yours?”

“Yes actually,” He shrugged, a tint of pink in his cheeks, “I get bored easily so reading about dinner etiquette is a step up from nothing.”

“Oh, so you know a lot about big fancy dinners?”

“Am I to suspect that you want me to make you a big fancy dinner now?”

“Well why not? I’ll even take a bit off your plate and make dessert so you don’t have to.”

“So all I have to do is make the other five courses, is it?”

“Yes.”

“Does this mean you’ll dress up for me too? Since it is supposed to be such a fancy feast?”

“Want to see me in a dress?”

“That one Yvette was wearing would look very nice on you.”

“You mean the maid uniform with the short skirt and stiletto heels?”

“Or something,” He laughed as I hit him upside the head.

“Would you get dressed up too? I think you’d look rather nice in a suit.”

“I don’t know, those ties look awfully constricting.”

“Yet the bust that pushes my boobs up to my ears is less constricting?”

“Okay, how about this,” Felix pulled me into his lap, “You buy a nice dress that you like, I get to wear something comfortable, and one of these nights I’ll make you that big six course dinner.”

“Candlelight and rose petals too?” I teased.

“Don’t push it,”

“Fine, fine,” I kissed him.

I wouldn’t go on about how excited I was at the thought of having a grand dinner. Sometimes Felix flourished on meals but this was going to be a whole event. It even gave me an excuse to buy a pretty dress. Something I didn’t really need but secretly kinda longed for. I know that per our arrangement that Felix was going to be dressed more comfortably which no doubt meant casually but I still would have liked to see him in a suit. I’ve seen him in his Neverland clothes, I’ve seen him in modern era clothes, and I’ve even seen him naked at this point. Dress clothes were the only thing that was missing. Maybe I can cram him into a suit a different day.

We cleaned up from lunch and I decided that the day was still young, I was going to go into town and look at dresses. I wasn’t gonna buy anything but I was gonna peruse. Try some things on. Figure out what I like. Cause I’ve never had a need to buy a dress before, I certainly didn’t have the funds for it before. But now I had to find out what I liked and what looked good on me.

I rode into town on my bike and entered the clothes store Felix and I had gone to the day after we found the mansion. I headed over to the dresses and started looking at the different styles and colors they had. There were a lot of options and I wasn’t sure where to start. I decided to just grab whatever was my size and headed to the dressing room.

I have no idea how long I spent trying on dress after dress and contemplating how I looked in all of them. I didn’t like anything too tight or short and with any low cuts anywhere. Big bold patterns also weren’t really my style. I like the skirts that swished around me when I spun and hit near my knee. I know I said I didn’t like anything low cut but I was finding that I liked anything that showed off my shoulders and collarbones and if it happened to dip in the front a bit that was fine too.

If I got something off the shoulder though then I’d need a bra that could be worn strapless which were none of the comfy ones I had at home.

I put all the dresses back on the rack and made my way over to the underwear section. As I was looking for a good strapless bra, just in case I decided to get a strapless dress, I accidentally wandered into the lingerie section of the underwear. I had never understood the obsession with these flimsy things of satin and lace. I guess they were more for looks than practicality.

Would Felix like if I wore something like this?

I shook the thought from my head and dropped the panties back with the others. I need to get out of here before I fall into the horny mess I had just crawled out of. I left the store without buying anything and got back home. Felix was sitting in the dining room with three different cookbooks and a notepad spread before him as he scribbled down dinner ideas.

It was cute to see how seriously he was taking this dinner. I came up behind him and looped my arms around his neck. “How is the meal planning going?” I asked.

“Well enough. There are a lot of recipes in here and I’m having a bit of trouble organizing it all. I’ve already bookmarked five recipes just for soup that I have to choose from.”

“Want my help?”

“Thanks darling, here, look at these recipes and tell me which sounds best to you.” He slid the notepad over to me.

“Hungarian Mushroom Soup,” I circled it, “Sounds different and like I might like it. I know you also really like mushrooms so how about that?”

“Mushroom soup it is.” Felix flipped the page over, “And now I have about a dozen ideas for appetizers.”

“Oh dear,” I laughed. I sat down next to him as we filed through recipe after recipe. We had to call a quits as it got late and we needed to get dinner for tonight. We decided to order out and Felix left to pick up some pizza. We didn’t trust anyone to deliver to us since we were still worried that someone would force us out of the mansion if they found out we had commandeered it.

The house felt entirely too big without Felix around. That was expected since it was a huge mansion but still. Without Felix then it was just me in a big house with nothing to do and no one to talk to. I went to the window and looked at the sky. It was quickly growing dark and I could see stars start to peep out as the sun set. I found the star that lead back to Neverland. My time as a Lost Girl seemed so far away now.

I wonder how much Felix misses Neverland. I know we talked and he said that he would stay with me whether I chose to go back to Neverland or not if the choice was given. But that didn’t mean that he still didn’t miss it. Neverland had been his home for years. Then he gave it all up because I asked him to follow me.

I will forever be thankful that Felix came with me. I don’t know if I could have survived this world with my sanity if he hadn’t been along. It was in these moments when I was alone in this house and it was so painfully quiet that I came upon a realization. I like quiet but I do not like silence. I enjoy being left alone but I do not enjoy solitude. This house, this mansion, as grand a blessing it may be, would be just as cold and harsh as the forest if I didn’t know that Felix also resided within.

It is such a strange thing to be so attached to someone. I never feared loss. My whole life had been plagued by it. Lost my family. Lost Pan. Lost Neverland. And yet, not a one of those bothered me as badly as the thought of losing Felix did.

Felix came home and with his return my troubled thoughts ran away. We sat down to eat our pizza and watch another movie. I was starting to nod off but Felix made sure to get me up to my room before I fell asleep this time. Felix bid me goodnight with a quick kiss before returning to his own room. It pained my heart to watch him leave. I guess I thought that after this morning we could have spent tonight together again. Seeing as how embarrassing the wake up call had been though it was probably for the best that we were separated. We were just starting our intimate relationship after all. I didn’t want to push too far by demanding we sleep in the same bed together.

One day though. One day.

~~~

Today had been amazing as far as Felix was concerned. It had started rough but the rest of it had turned out far better than he could have ever imagined. He thought that things between you and him had taken a bad turn that morning when he explained that he desired you. It was one thing to know that you desired him in private but it was another to admit it directly.

Then you showed up in his doorway. You opened your heart up and told him that you wanted him too. You didn’t want to run away from this growing intimacy between the two of you. Then you said you wanted to give him a handjob and he nearly popped a blood vessel. You and your wide eyes full of trust, lust, and curiosity.

It took every ounce of his remaining brainpower to help guide you along his body. The feel of your small soft hand wrapped around him, your lips on his chest, your voice softly pleading for him to cum. He was lost to you.

As nervous as he was having you touch him in such a way it was nothing to the pure excited terror that occurred when it was his turn to please you. You trusted him so easily to make you feel good and he wanted nothing more than to meet, maybe even exceed your expectations. Inch by inch your body had been exposed to him. Something he had envisioned a hundred times before finally laid out before him and he was allowed--nay--encouraged to touch all of it.

Listening to the noises you made as sparks of pleasure lit your body was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. His hands shook slightly as he held you and he prayed that you didn’t notice how nervous he truly was as his hand slid beneath the band of your panties. The feel of your slick arousal as he rubbed your clit was nothing compared to how it felt to have your hot, wet, cunt clench around his fingers.

He was making you feel good. You were moaning his name and begging him to do more. It was far better than any fantasy he had created in his head. He watched your face closely as you came and made sure to burn it into his mind. You were just so beautiful when in the throws of pleasure. He would have kept you there in his bed all day but after your reaction to his comment about devouring your pussy he figured he should slow things down.

It was hard not to show how much he wanted to drag you back to the bedroom while you were watching the movie but he knew that you probably needed the breather. He said he was gonna go at your pace so he wasn’t going to try anything until you told him it was okay.

The dinner planning helped take his mind off of it. He had been thinking about making a fancy dinner like he had seen in his books for you one day. Seemed that day was coming sooner than expected. If he was gonna make you a fancy meal then he was gonna do it right. You had been gone for so long in town that you had missed his initial frenzy as he tore through the cookbooks and combed over every recipe at least three times trying to figure out what you would most like, what would impress you.

It felt like there was a lot riding on this. He was able to whittle down his ideas a tad and that’s when you showed up again with your innocent smile and warm laugh. His anxiety eased and he breathed easier having you next to him again.

When night fell and he said goodnight to you he meandered back to his room. His big, dark, cold, and lonely room. He thought of how it felt to fall asleep next to you and wake up beside you. He didn’t realize how big his bed was until you weren’t next to him and in his arms.

It wouldn’t be a big deal if he asked you to sleep next to him, would it? It wasn’t like he was inviting you to his bed for anything explicit. He just wanted to fall asleep next to you again.

After about an hour of tossing and turning unable to fall asleep Felix had enough. “I am risking looking like a desperate idiot,” Felix muttered to himself as he swung out of bed and went to his door. He pulled it open and was shocked to see you waiting on the other side.

“Oh hi,” You said, the hand you had raised to knock quickly dropped back to your side, “I was um...I was wondering if you were still awake.”

“I am,” Felix said. No shit! She can obviously see you are awake, genius. Felix’s mind chastised him. “Did you need something?”

“I was--well I had been thinking--I was wondering if you--” You were stammering, your gaze lost to the ground as you tried to find the right words to say.

“Do you want to know why I am up?” Felix asked, deciding to take pity on his poor girl.

“Uh...yes?” You said, finally peeking up at him through your long lashes.

“I was coming to see you.” He told you, “I couldn’t fall asleep and I was wondering if I could tempt you to spend the night with me.”

“Really?” Your eyes widened in disbelief and glee.

Felix smiled. “Yes, really,” He laced his hand with yours, “Was that something you’d be open to?”

“Yes!” Came your immediate reply. “I mean um, yes, that sounds very nice.”

“Come here little girl,” Felix pulled you inside and gave you a kiss. He tugged you along over to the bed and let you nestle yourself in. He got under the covers as well and reached out to grab you and pull you next to him. Your head tucked under his chin and your body melted against him.

“Goodnight, darling,” He whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“Goodnight, Felix,” You sighed happily. It wasn’t long after your soft snores filled his ears that Felix fell asleep as well. The warmth of your body curled against him banishing the loneliness of his big empty bed once and for all.

---

(Previous) (Next)

[365days365movies]

February 22, 2021: Pillow Talk (1959)(Part 1)

Y’know, I actually do like Doris Day.

She’s funny, she’s talented, and she’s a timeless beauty that I remember very well. TOO well. You guys ever have that one thing that your parents crammed down your throat SO MUCH that you got sick of it? Well, that’s what my Mom did with The Thrill of it All.

Which is, for the record, a cute movie, and one worth watching again at some point. But I’m gonna ease my way into that with Doris Day and Rock Hudson’s first movie, 1959′s Pillow Talk. 

However, while I’m not stranger to Doris Day, I’m afraid that I don’t know too much about Rock Hudson from experience. Well, there is one interesting tidbit about him: Hudson was one of the biggest stars of the ‘50s and ‘60s, and his career continued up until his death in 1985...from AIDS-related complications.

Yeah, Rock Hudson was one of the biggest gay celebrities in Hollywood, although he never publicly came out. However, it was somewhat of an open secret in the community at large, and basically all of his female co-stars know about it. 

And said secret was revealed posthumously, after his tragic death during the height of the AIDS crisis. He was by far one of the most high-profile deaths during this time period, and you’d think that would’ve caused more waves about the AIDS-crisis, considering that he was good friends with...well...another actor.

Yeaaaaaaaaah, not gonna get into Reagan and ALL OF THAT SHIT here. This here is a movie blog, not a political blog! But, uh, yeah, a LOT of fucked-up shit about Reagan and the AIDS crisis, obviously, and part of it was Rock Hudson. So, yeah, it’s something that I wanted to address before we got into this whole shindig.

Because, again, I’ve never seen a Rock Hudson movie, but dude was a pretty huge deal, and this was a part of his life that I felt it unfair not to at least acknowledge. SO, with that out of the way, let’s have a little Pillow Talk. SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap

We start with that might be one of my favorite opening sequences so far this month, which you can see above. From there, Jan Morrow (Doris Day) wakes up, humming the theme song from the credits, which is clever, considering that she sang it! Talented lady, seriously.

Jan wakes up and goes to the phone, intending to make a call. However, this is where we get a pretty stark cultural difference, and a needed history lesson for some of us, me included. See, Jan’s phone line is actually a party line, seen through this neat little visual edit.

See, this is what’s called a “party line”. From the 1870s onwards, there was a shortage of available phone lines. By the time you get to the ‘60s, more and more people had personal phones in their households, but without enough lines to go around. And so, some people were forced to share their phone lines with others, hence the party line system!

Here’s the thing, though: if somebody was on the line already, anyone else on that line could hear the conversation of other people. Which is exactly what’s pissing of Jan right now, as she needs to make a call, but the line is being used by her party line partner, songwriter Brad Allen, who’s serenading his girlfriend (?) Eileen (Valerie Allen). Not sure that they’re actually dating, but Eileen definitely wants to.

After Jan’s insistence, they get off the phone, and Jan’s able to begin her busy morning at last. Well...almost. Brad’s now talking to Yvette (Jacqueline Beer), and she wants him to sing HER song to her, which is LITERALLY just the Eileen song with a different name and in French! Which is...hilarious. It’s very funny, not gonna lie.

Once again, Jan tells him to get off the party line, and hangs up angrily. She leaves just as her cleaner woman, Alma (Thelma Ritter) arrives, fresh off of a hangover. Jan goes to try and get a line of her own, and the manager, Mr. Conrad (Hayden Rorke) makes a WEIRDLY sexist comment about jumping to the top of the list if she were pregnant. Which, yeah...weird.

Anyway, Jan, in her frustration, tells Mr. Conrad that she’s hired of sharing the line by a “sex maniac.” Mr. Conrad asks for specifics, and is AGAIN WEIRDLY SEXIST ABOUT IT. He asks if his dalliances with other women disturb her in particular. But yeah, he also says that if he is indeed a “sex maniac,” they may need to disconnect him altogether. Which has...uncomfortable undertones all on its own, but whatever, moving on.

On her way to work, Jan’s friend Jonathan Forbes (Tony Randall) shows up to bring her a STRAIGHT-UP CAR, holy shit! He’s doing so to thank her for decorating his offices (she’s an interior decorator, he’s a car dealership owner, so...fair exchange?). She insists that it’s too personal, which confuses him, as it isn’t perfume or lingerie.

But, uh, dude? IT’S A WHOLE-ASS CAR!!! Look, I’m with her on this one, don’t just give me a fuckin’ car out of the blue! I don’t care what the reason is, tell me that shit first! And Jonathan is CLEARLY trying to make it just a little more personal, if you get my meaning.

Jan finally arrives at her office, owned by Mr. Pierot (Marcel Dalio), and she tells him that an inspector has been sent to look after Mr. Allen. This inspector is Miss Dickenson (Karen Norris), and being of the wimmins, is immediately entranced by the apparently irresistible Mr. Allen, sabotaging any attempt at inspection.

The next morning, the inspector’s report comes through, and Miss Dickinson has of course cleared him of all charges. He calls her, and the two clash in a way that definitely means they’ll never, ever, ever fall in love, no sir, not these two, not a CHANCE IN HELL

They agree to make a schedule for using the phone, and Brad accuses Jan of being jealous of his free-wheeling, bed-hopping lifestyle, which she takes great offese to. But after they hang up, she thinks on the idea of having bedroom problems. Looks like Jonathan wants to fix that, on account of being the THIRSTIEST MAN ALIVE.

Dude has three three ex-wives, all of which were revolts against his mother, for which he’s seeing a psychiatrist.

...CHRIST, the man’s a walking-talking red flag. Jan also says that she doesn’t love him, like...AT THE FUCK ALL, and the man just straight-up says, “How do you know, we’ve never even kissed.” Ai which point, any normal person would see the phantom neckbeard and whip out the fuckin’ bear mace, but Jan just lets him lean in for the goddamn kiss!!!

Jan...standards, Jan. My God. Anyway, she still turns him down, he asks her to get married again, and she leaves. For God’s sakes, man. Anyway, she goes home, where Alma’s listening to Brad serenade a girl over the party line. Jan notes the time, and tells him to get off the line. He calls back, and tells her off.

Brad gets a visitor: his old college friend FUCKIN’ JONATHAN AGAIN. He bemoans being a millionaire (po’ babyyyyy), then reveals that he’s pining over Jan, whom he doesn’t know is the person on the party line with Brad. He hears a good amount of information about Jan from Jonathan.

After the conversation, Brad tries to somewhat reconcile with Jan, but she doesn’t have any interest in doing so. That night, the two have separate affairs. Brad meets up with a woman named Marie, and  serenades her with the same goddamn song from earlier, that suave motherfucker. Dude flips a switch, and the door fuckin’ LOCKS! Jesus, state-of-the-art hook-up tech of 1959.

Meanwhile Jan is attending a dinner held by an extremely client, Mrs. Walters (Lee Patrick). Needing to get home, she has her son Tony (Nick Adams) give her a ride. But on the way home, they stop and WHAT THE FUCK TONY??? I actually can’t find a clip or GIF of this, so I’ll tell you...he is ALL THE FUCK OVER HER, and it’s GROSS. CAN WE PLEASE STOP SEMI-RAPING DORIS DAY? WHAT THE FUCK, IN NO WAY IS WHAT I JUST WATCHED OK, HOLY SHIT!!!!!

Like...wow, that was the most uncomfortable I’ve felt watching a movie in a WHILE. And it’s not even because of the act itself, it’s because of how...OK it feels in the context of the film. Jan is BARELY upset by this slimy little weasely-faced rapey CREEP LITERALLY ASSAULTING HER IN THE FUCKING CAR. And in case you were wondering, yes! This film was written by FOUR MEN.

This is gross. Sorry, but this whole sequence is gross, and it gets even LONGER, because she AGREES TO GO GET A DRINK WITH HIM. WHY, JAN? STOP ENCOURAGING THIS BEHAVIOR. He tries to get her drunk (but ends up drunk himself), but she tries to leave. However, who should be sitting one table but Brad, who realizes who this is. Jan tries to leave, but Tony tries to get her to dance with him, AND SHE ONCE AGAIN AGREES, JAAAAAAAAN!!!!!!!

And its during this time of distress for Brad that, OF COURSE, he finds himself extremely attracted to her. And since he knows who she is, but she doesn’t know him, he decides to fake his identity. And there we go, we’ve got a creepy-ass one-sided relationship set-up.

Meanwhile, lightweight Tony passes out on the floor, drunk as shit. Brad goes into help, putting on a take Texas accent and calling himself Rex Stetson. And OF FUCKING COURSE, she’s lost in his fuckin’ eyes. Damn those eyes, and his suave bullshit.

They shove Tony into a cab, then take his car, which appears to be too small for Brad, which makes sense, given the fact that Hudson was 6′4″, goddamn! The two take a cab, and the two reveal their mutual attraction to the audience, through their inner thoughts. Looks like all Jan needed for a relationship was handsome-ass Rock Hudson.

In her thoughts, she thinks on how honest and down-to-earth Rex Stetson seems, unlike “monsters” like Tony and Brad Allen. And OF COURSE this is how we get this started. OF GODDAMN COURSE this is how we start this relationship. Liar revealed, LIAR REVEALED, I FUCKIN’ HATE THAT GODDAMN TROPE SO MUCH

Soon after “Rex” takes her home, he goes home herself, and gives her a call, inviting her to dinner the following night. She accepts. Then, in the middle of the call, Brad pretends to pick up the line as himself, in order to set up the two identities as being separate...this is reverse You’ve Got Mail, isn’t it?

Think about it. Two people that hate each other, and they’ve never seen one another, but also love each other after meeting in person. IT’S THE OPPOSITE OF YOU’VE GOT MAIL. Ugh. Fine. Even down to the fact that he has a sizeable advantage over her, due to his full knowledge of the situation. He even tries to use his identity as Brad Allen to set-up their date the next night for success.

And it works, goddamn. A clever yet manipulative asshole, this dude is. They get on a horse and carriage, and we hear the inner thoughts of Jan, Brad, and the dude who owns the horse. And, yeah...it’s funny. The two go to dinner, where Jonathan shortly arrives. Brad gets him out of there with...mildly fatphobic means, but it is the 1950s, so things were just kinda...entirely that.

But in any case, Brad gets away with it, and he and Jan spend a hell of a lot of time together going all around the city. And the whole time, he’s playing the role of “Rex.” Ugh. This is a good halfway point, so let’s go to Part 2 here! See you there!

[thequeerwitch]

Dancing In The Starlight

Gordon Ramsay x OC

Word count: 1611

Rating: PG-13 

A/N: Kinda posted this on impulse, I wrote this a while ago and reread it to see whatever edits it needed, but it honestly seemed pretty solid so I posted it. This fic does include an OC named Yvette, the profile preview isn’t up yet but it may be up when you’re reading this. Also, this kinda ends abruptly cuz I was planning on writing more and delving into adult content, but I didn’t think it really fit the vibe of the rest of the fic. I’ll work on the 

          When the party grew dull, I went out for fresh air. The marble balcony overlooked an elegant garden, perfectly pruned and cared for. I leaned against the railing, the chill arose goosebumps against my bare arms. I looked down at the garden—roses of all colors peppered the deep planes of green hedges, surrounding a marvelous three tiered fountain. I turned back to the party. Contestants were mingling in extravagant gowns and suits while a camera crew recorded it all. Some dancing together, others enjoying themselves at the bar, and a few glared across the room at each other to give the cameras something interesting to capture. The life of reality television. I turned my back to the window dividing the balcony and the ballroom. I was glad to be alone for once, away from the constant buzz and chatter of my colleagues. I wanted so badly to feel happy for the winner of the show as Chef Ramsay presented her at the ceremony, but I couldn’t help but linger on the subtle taste of victory that I had for a moment. For one moment as she and I stood side by side, Chef Ramsay eying us both, I knew I was going to win. My heart raced, and my palms were slippery from sweating. Gordon gave me one final, remorseful glance, and he chose the other contestant. Sure, first runner up wasn’t too bad, it would look great on a resume. But it wasn’t winning. It was soul crushing disappointment, and the knowledge that my dreams were over.

          A pair of footsteps trailed outside and stopped right behind me. I couldn’t face them, whoever it was. In fact, I really didn’t care. But I knew the cameras were on me, so I plastered a smile to my face and turned. There she was, her wine colored gown hugging her curves a little too tightly, and a cocky smirk painted across her face in scarlet lipstick.

          “Congratulations,” I said. “You really deserved this victory.”

          “I know.”

          “Is there something you wanted to say?” I asked.

          “I just wanted to step away from the cameras and have a chat, y’know, contestant to contestant.”

          “Alright.”

          “I told you Gordon favored me.”

          “And I told you I don’t really care.”

          “Oh, I know you care. You said it yourself in the first episode, all you wanted was his approval.”

          “That has nothing to do with it, everyone wants his approval. Just because you got his ultimate approval doesn’t mean you can be a prat about it now.”

          “Now, now. Don’t be a sore loser.”

          I swallowed back a retort and held my head high. “Sure, you’re right. I don’t want to ruin your night with my sour feelings. Let’s just call a truce here, yeah?” I extended my hand to her, trying to make my face seem as friendly as possible.

          She quirked her lip up and approached, grasping my hand and bringing my close for a hug. Then she whispered, “As long as you know that you’ll always be number two. You’ll never be a master chef as long as you live.” She pulled away, offered a smile, and returned to the party.

          My hands shook at my sides, tears threatening to ruin my makeup. I turned back and leaned against the railing, covering my mouth so I wouldn’t sob too loudly. I couldn’t go to the bathroom, that meant passing by a number of cameras and being caught by more contestants. I had to pull myself together and get out before someone found me like this.

          “Yvette?” His voice was low and gentle, I knew who it was without needing to see him.

          Shit.

          I couldn’t bear to look at him, I couldn’t let him see me like this. Chef Ramsay came closer, and a warm hand closed around my shoulder. I instinctively pulled away tried to hide my face. “I’m fine, I just—I needed some air.”

          “Yvette, look at me.” His fingers came to my chin and beckoned my face to him. I met his cool, blue gaze. His sandy hair was fashioned out of his face, and he wore a flattering black suit and a red tie to match the member of the team who won the season. “Talk to me, what’s bothering you.”

          I pulled away. “I know what it looks like, I’m not upset about not winning.”

          “Alright,” he said.

          “I’m not sure it’s best to speak of it like this.”

          “Why?”

          I decided it was best to lie. “It’s…personal. Personal business.”

          “I get it if you don’t want to talk. But may I do something to get your mind off of it?”

          “I don’t know if there’s anything you can say that will help.”

          “Dance with me?”

          I turned to him. “What?”

          Gordon presented his hand to me with a warm smile on his face. “Yvette, may I have this dance?”

          I hesitated for a moment. How could I do this with the man who was—and for all intents and purposes, still is—my boss? Then again, this may be my last chance to rectify this. In some way, this may be the approval I needed from him, and maybe more. I took his hand and he lead me out into the middle of the balcony. His hand glided to my waist and while his other held onto my hand, and I wrapped my arm around his shoulder. We swayed for a moment, the slow music flowing with our steps. For a moment, our hearts were in sync as we spun slowly in place. I didn’t care about the cameras, or the contestants, or even the woman who won in my place. It was just Gordon and I together, and everything melted away. His hand tightened around my waist and brought me closer to his chest. I could smell his musky cologne now, feel his breath against my face as he exhaled. He brought his forehead down to mine, and I closed my eyes. He squeezed my fingers and brought my hand to his neck. My fingers shakily grazed the soft edges of his hairline. Our noses touched at the end more then once, and I felt his breath against my lips. And in that moment, all care and dignity went out the door. I brought our lips together, and he kissed me back. His hands rode up my waist and to my shoulders, one hand cupping my cheek as he turned his head to deepen our kiss. My pounding heart ushered gentle warmth through my body, toes curled in my shoes. I could taste the sweet cherry wine on his soft lips. His thumb grazed against my cheek, bringing me as close as he could to kiss me again. I rested my hand on his chest and he gripped it tightly. I could tell he didn’t want this to end anymore than I did, but any further and we would be undressing ourselves for the public…the party…the cameras.

          I broke away for a brief moment, only for him to dive in for one more kiss before obeying and pulling back. My entire body felt hot, but for a different reason this time. I didn’t want to look away from him in fear of what I would see if I turned towards the party, and from the look in his eyes, he felt exactly the same way. I rested my chin against his shoulder and spun so I could get a glimpse of the party. Thankfully, it appeared that everything had gone on without notice. I whispered, “We’re clear,” and I pulled away, locking my hands behind his neck. I didn’t know what to say, so I watched over his shoulders to avoid looking him in the eye.

          “Y’know,” he finally said. “This is why I couldn’t choose you.”

          I shook my head and squeezed my eyes shut. “You don’t have to explain, she really deserved—”

          “You and I both know that’s a load of shit. She’s an excellent cook, yes. She has the skills to handle a restaurant of her own. But she doesn’t have the attitude, or the passion that you have.” He brushed his fingers across my cheek. “I let my feelings get the best of me, which is why I couldn’t let you win. It would be too obvious. The viewers, and even some of the chefs, are starting to take notice.”

          “Notice to what?”

          He chuckled. “Seriously? They keep saying I’m soft on you, they think I fancy you. They have no idea that they were right, which is why letting you win would have destroyed both of us. If you wanted any hope of a successful career, I had to make it clear my feelings weren’t biased, and I let the clearly inferior chef win over you.”

          “You—you let her win…because you loved me?”

          His grip loosened on my waist and he stopped swaying. “I’m…sorry. I know how you must feel.”

          “No…no, it’s not that. Earlier, I thought my career crushed. I honestly thought I wouldn’t achieve my dreams…but being here with you, it makes me realize that my dream has only begun.”

          He held my close and pressed a kiss to my forehead. “That’s what I wanted. This night is about you, not her.”

          “We should probably go back,” I said. “What if the cameras see?”

          He hesitated, then pulled away and released me, his warmth and muskiness left with him. “You’re right. But…I want to see you again.”

          “I’d like that.” 

          “We can discuss the details in the morning. For now, go mingle and enjoy your night.” 

          “Yes chef.”

          “Call me Gordon. I’ll see you in a few hours.” He kissed my cheek then returned to the party. I stole a few moments of victory to myself, smiling into my hands to avoid squealing, then I returned to the party with a new kind of confidence. I mingled with a few contestants who congratulated me on making it so far, apologized for my disqualification, and even went as far as to say I should have won. All through, I remained humble and praised the winner, probably more than she deserved. Her words whispered through my head a few times, “You’ll never be a master chef as long as you live,” but I kept thinking of Gordon, the breathtaking kisses he left against my lips and his earnest words screamed over the vile poison that tried to plague my thoughts. I didn’t let her words drag me down, tonight was my night and I was going to act like it.

[kaitycole]

Madeleine x Leo (ARM Stand Alone)

Summary: This wraps up the storyline for Madeleine x Leo storyline in A Royal Mess

**This is the last stand alone for the A Royal Mess universe**

Word Count: 2108

Pairing: Madeleine x Leo (past tense), Madeleine x Nash, Katie x Leo (past tense)

Rating: Angst, longing, closure

Tag List: @chiarace  @grimalkjn  @jyreusser85@hopefulmoonobject​ @enmchoices  @indiacater @captain-kingliamsqueen  @katurrade​ @darley1101  @zilch3@sleeplessescapades  @bobasheebaby​ @mrsdrakewalkerblog​ @lynn1214  @umccall71  @drakelover78​ @thequeenchoices   @stopforamoment @lauradowning29​ @lodberg​ 

Madeleine walks over to the hedge maze, seeing Leo and the twins over there. She hasn’t seen Leo in months. She smiles, seeing what the press has been talking about, that Leo acts lighter, that he’s happier since his divorce.

           She’s been meaning to come see him since she’s returned from Turkey, but between the various tabloid stories and her recent test results, time slipped passed her.

           It’s Caroline that sees her first and takes off running towards her. Her light brown curls bounce as the space between them close. Much to Katie’s dismay, it didn’t matter how many dresses you put Caroline in, she was determined to be outside with her dad and brother.

           She throws herself around Madeleine’s waist, “Aunt Madi! I missed you!”

           She looks down at the young girl, smiling brightly, “I missed you too Care. You can just call me Madi now.”

           “Oh yeah,” she kicks a rock, “But I like you better than Aunt Riley.”

           Madeleine shakes her head, “Hey now, you have to give her a chance. I’m not going anyway babes.”

           “Promise?”

           “Promise!”

           Caroline practically drags Madi over to her father and brother, “Daddy! Noah! Look who I have!”

           Leo snaps his head up and towards her before he looks back down. His heart begins to pound against his ribcage. He wasn’t sure where they stood; they had a moment before Asher was born and then she ran off to some exotic place and met some exotic guy. She’d been back for nearly two months and had rarely left Fydelia.

           “Aunt Madi!” Noah runs over to her, hugging her tightly.

           “It’s just Madi now, duh.”

           “Oh. But you’re still come over right? Especially to our new house?”

           “New house?”

           Leo finally looks up, making eye contact with Madi. “Liam was saying that some of the old duchies could use revamping. So, you’re looking at the newest Duke of Mirandola,” he shrugs.

           “And I’m the newest Lord!” Noah cheers.

           “And I’m Lady Caroline,” she flips her hair off her shoulder, causing Madi to giggle.

           “Can I speak to your dad alone, please?”

           The twins hug her once again before running off into the maze to play. Leo gestures towards a nearby bench, both taking one side of the bench, leaving space between. There’s something different about her, but he can’t put his finger on it.

           “How was your trip?” He looks away, “Seemed like you had a good time.”

           “It was…” she pauses, chewing her bottom lip, “needed. I just needed to get away from everything.”

           “To get away from me as well?”

           “Leo,” she wants to place her hand on his knee, but hesitates.

           “I came back and you were gone, Madi.” He stands up, running his hands through his hair, “I thought…I thought we had a moment.”

           “We did, but,” she discreetly rubs her belly, “It’s just wasn’t enough.”

           He knows that in a minute she’ll come up behind him and hug him. She always did, no matter how they were going to end up leaving things. Just like it would always be his job to protect her, even if it was from himself, it would always be her job to heal him. When her arms finally wrap around him, he lets the tears fall down his face, finally realizing what exactly it is that he’s losing. His soulmate. His true love. His better half.

           “I love you, Madeleine,” he turns around, placing his arms around her waist.

           “I love you, Leo.”

           “I’ll never stop loving you,” he places a soft kiss on her forehead.

           “I know.”

           She wipes the tears from his cheeks, her heart breaking knowing this isn’t completely what she wants, but it’s exactly what she needs.

*                      *

           It’s a busy day at Mirandola, not only has Lord Noah just gotten married, but Duke Leo is stepping down. Giving his son the title of Duke to take the country through a new leadership. Leo has been running the small nation for the last twenty years, starting just months after he and Katie’s divorce finalized. Through his leadership, this small nation started to thrive again, gaining not only redemption in Cordonia’s eyes, but also his brother’s; the one who he wanted to prove himself to the most.

           “Feeling old yet?” Liam pats his brother’s shoulder, “Your oldest just got married, is taking over the duchy, going to start a family.”

           “Do you, brother? Isn’t Eleanor’s social season coming up? Remember how you and Riley were?” Leo teases back.

           “I can’t believe she’s already twenty-two, seems like yesterday she was squeezing my finger for the first time.” He pauses, “And Lilly will be twenty shortly.”

           “When did they grow up so fast?” Leo looks over at his daughter, Caroline. She looks more and more like her mother every day, but she has his drive, his passion for life. Noah decided to engage in the royal lifestyle, he spent his college years with his Uncle Liam learning the ins and outs of international relations. Caroline however wanted to use her status to help instead of lead; Leo watched her get involved in Animal rights, women’s rights and fighting for equality for all.

           Due to his duties, Noah ended up meeting the daughter of a French diplomat. Noah and Yvette were the ideal power couple, Leo knew he was leaving Mirandola in great hands. Yvette instantly grew close to Caroline, helping her make ways in her causes as well as becoming adored by Mirandola.

           “Can you believe just yesterday he wanted to play pirates and eat chocolate pudding for every meal?” a soft and familiar voice says.

           “And the only girl he’d hug was Caroline because all the others had cooties.”

           Katie leans her head on Leo’s shoulder as they look over at the newly wedded couple. They have had their differences throughout the years, but this moment could only be shared between the two of them. Watching one of the reminders of their once love, being with the woman he loved.

           “We did a decent job with the twins, ya know? It wasn’t how we expected, but still.”

           Leo smiles, watching Caroline and Noah walk over to them, “Yes, yes we did.”

*                      *

           The festivities are coming to an end, everyone being retiring to their rooms in the duchy.

           Katie and Damien walk down the halls with their children; Asher, Eli and Wyatt, the twins and Rosie. Liam and Riley along with their daughters, Eleanor and Lilly make their way to their room, deciding it wouldn’t hurt to spend a few nights away from the palace. Liam knew Leo would need his family around. Noah escorts Yvette to their town car, their honeymoon awaiting them.

           Leo sighs, for the last twenty years he’s dedicated all his time to the small nation of people he ruled over as well as his two children. But on nights like tonight, having that one person to talk to wouldn’t hurt.

           “Daddy! There you are!” Caroline slides next to Leo on the balcony.

           “Hey sweetie, what are you up to?” He drapes his arm around her, pulling her close to him.

           She cuddles close to him, she’s missed her father. With her busy schedule, she’s not at home much anymore which is hard for her, she’s a huge daddy’s girl.

           “I was just checking up on you.”

           He chuckles, “Isn’t that my job?”

           She shrugs, “It’s just…well, you never dated after mom. I figured tonight might be hard.”

           He looks at his daughter, trying to figure out when she got as wise as she was. She wasn’t wrong, it was hard seeing so many couples and not being one. When he first started ruling Mirandola, he attempted to date. He even let Liam try to set him up a few times, but they just wanted to say they’d be with the abdicated crown prince. He knew he brought this upon himself, the playboy reputation, he just wished people could let that reputation mature like he has.

           “I wouldn’t change anything about my life, Care. I had a wild youth before you and your brother. More adventure in those years than most get in a lifetime.”

           “Was mom your soulmate?”

           He smirks, “I loved your mother very much, I still do have love for her. But no, she wasn’t my soulmate. I found mine, a long, long time ago, but the thing about soulmates is sometimes you realize they’re your soulmate too late.”

           “I just don’t want you to be lonely.”

           “I have you and your brother. He and Yvette will bring me grandbabies. Maybe you too one day. I’m far from lonely, my dear.” He presses a kiss to her temple.

           “Well…then you won’t be mad that I invited someone to come see you.” She motions for someone to join them and Leo’s heart stops when he sees her, “I’ll give you some time alone.”

           The years have barely touched her, just a few wrinkles from motherhood rest on her skin. She looks absolutely stunning to Leo.

           “I hope you don’t mind Caroline invited me.”

           “No, not at all. You…you look amazing.”

           “Thank you,” blush colors her fair skin, “You look good as well.”

           “Let’s go in and sit,” he motions her inside.

           “Do you mind if we sit outside?”

           “After you.”

           The pair walk through the ballroom before exiting into the small garden area of the duchy. There’s a small pond with a bench nearby that they sit on.

           “How have you been? How’s Lark?” Leo found out about Madeleine’s pregnancy the same way the rest of Cordonia did: the news. Through the years part of him wanted her to come to him, to let him help raise the little girl. She had tried to make it work with Nash, they had been married for almost ten years, but neither could give up their lifestyles and soon their fantasy fell apart. Lark spent her summers in Turkey with her father and the rest of her time in Fydelia with her mother.

           After her marriage ended, she stayed out of the court’s spotlight. She helped Liam and Riley with Valtoria and stayed on as their PR correspondent. She made a very nice life for herself and Lark, without the help of her father.

           “Growing up far too quickly,” she smiles, “I can’t believe she’s nineteen. She wants to move to England, I don’t think I’m ready.”

           “You did an amazing job raising her, Madi.”

           Her heart flutters, it’s been years since she’s heard that nickname. “You did as well, with the twins.”

           They sit in silence; the sound of crickets fills the air around them. It’s not an awkward silence, but the kind you have when you are comfortable with someone. Madeleine looks down at her watch, realizing its later than she thought.

           “I should be going now,” she begins to stand up.

           “Stay.” The word wraps around her like a weight, pulling her back down.

           Suddenly she’s panicked, how many times should this word have been said? How many times would it have prevented heartbreak if either of them had simply just said it. He had wanted to say this to her all those years ago, when he first told her about Mirandola, but something about her told him not to. She wanted to tell him that a lifetime ago when she found out she was pregnant right before he abdicated, but she couldn’t.

           They spent several lifetimes apart from each other. Maybe it was time to try, time to stop pushing life before each other. They have both lived their lives without each other, raised their children, now it was time to be selfish.

           “Leo,” she says, breaking the silence. He cups her cheek in his hand and pulls her chin up to him.

           “Madi.”

           She struggles to catch her breath, feeling intoxicated by his touch. He presses his lips to her, a familiar feeling that entraps her. Her lips move against him without thought, falling in sync with him effortlessly. The kiss deepens as she pushes herself into his chest, her arms wrapping around his neck. He picks her up, straddling her over his lap as he kisses down her neck. Her face burns with heat, the two falling into each other as if no time has passed.

           “I never stopped loving you, Madi.” Leo says, pressing his forehead to her chest.

           “I know.”

           “Will you stay, please?” His voice cracks, “I’ve tried for years to be without Madi, I don’t know if I can keep it up.”

           She places her hands on his cheeks, wiping the tears that fall.

           “Then don’t, I’m not going anywhere this time around.”

[artificialqueens]

Living in Sin (All the Rules are Changing Now), chapter 3: Make Me Feel Right (branjie) - writworm42, holtzmanns

A/N: Last chapter, Vanessa returned to the strip club where Brooke works, and they decided to go on a date. This chapter, they go out for dinner and then to Brooke’s place for dessert.

WRIT: WOW Y'ALL!!! It’s here!!! The last chapter!! So sorry for the delay on it. Everybody say THANK YOU HOLTZ bc without her (aggressively) suggestin it and agreeing to help me write this last chapter, it wouldn’t exist. I love u, binch, I ain’t never gonna stop lovin u, binch

Title from Only Girl in the World by Rihanna. Thank you thank you thank you Barbie for being an amazing cheerleader and a beta, you are second to none!!! <3 Hope you enjoy!!!

HOLTZ: HI HOLTZMANNS POPPIN IN WRIT IS A GEM AND I LOVE THEM AND WRITING THIS WITH THEM OK ADIOS ENJOY

Brooke counts down the minutes until her shift ends after Vanessa leaves, every passing song making her more and more restless. The minute the DJ announces last call, Brooke disappears, foregoing the chance to earn a last few hundred bucks to rush off towards the dressing room where she knows her friends are already waiting.

“GUYS!” The doors swing open way harder than Brooke means for them to, and she cringes at the slam that echoes around the narrow, concrete-walled room. “Sorry.”

Yvie waves a hand. “Don’t worry about it. Now what, you look like you’re about to jump out of your costume.”

Brooke’s already started pacing in front of the makeup stations, and she can’t help it because all that her mind is doing is replaying her last interaction with Vanessa. “She came back-”

“Lord, finally.” Asia rolls her eyes, but is unable to keep from smiling a little despite herself. “I was beginning to think I might have to name my first child Vanessa, from how much you were talking about her.”

Brooke blushes. “I wasn’t talking about her that much-”

“‘ Oh, Vanessa said this, oh, Vanessa did that,’” Yvie throws her hand over her heart dramatically and Brooke goes over to shove her side. “So what, did she say anything else to you this time, or are we just gonna keep replaying the same three sentences and calling you ‘Mommy’ for the rest of the night?”

“Oh, sure, I’m the only one who’s been weird and gay over a girl.” Brooke rolls her eyes as she plops down at her station, grabbing her makeup wipes as she adds with a wicked grin, “The name ‘Scarlet’ mean anything to you, my dear Yvette?”

Yvie reddens. “That’s diff–Stop calling me that!”

The girls around them all snicker, and then silence settles on the room, everyone caught back up in their end-of-night routines.

Plastique swivels on her stool to face Brooke. “So, what happened? What did she do? What did she say? Did you give her another good time-”

“No-I mean yes , but-no, it was…nice.” Brooke busies herself with getting her mascara off so that she doesn’t have to look up at her. “I, um.” she pauses, suddenly aware of exactly what she’s about to say.

She asked Vanessa out.

She asked Vanessa, a girl who she’d picked up at a strip club , who she’d known for the length of approximately four songs and two lap dances , out for dinner at her favourite Thai place.

How in the world was she supposed to tell her friends something so incredibly stupid?

Before she can open her mouth to even form the words, though, Detox pipes up from her station at the corner, rocketing up off her chair to slam the counter in front of her.

“Oh my God , you slut! ” Detox practically screams, “You asked her out. You actually asked her out. Oh my God. This is the best day of my life. Legend. ”

Brooke wants to retort with something, explain herself however she can, but it’s a lost effort, everyone else erupting into screams and fits of clapping and bouncing up and down, Plastique even falling out of her chair.

“It’s not a big-”

“Oh, you bet it’s a big deal, bitch.” Kameron scoots her chair closer to Brooke’s station. “So, how did you do it? Did you whisper the words all sultry into her ear as you gave her a lap dance?”

“Shut up,” Brooke groans as the other girls all crack up, “I did not. Did something far more embarrassing, actually.”

Kameron gives her a look. “You didn’t ask her while she came, did you?”

“What? No!” Brooke swats Kameron’s side. “I wouldn’t let her pay and then asked her afterwards when she said she absolutely had to repay me.”

Detox looks at her in the mirror incredulously. “She probably would have gone down on you right then and there if you asked!”

“Yeah, but I didn’t wanna ask that. I wanna, y’know, start small first.” Brooke doesn’t know why the words are heating her cheeks up, why she’s so hung up over a girl that she’s been in the presence of for ten minutes in total, max. But she is.

“You like her!” Yvie lets out an aww as she says it, one that Plastique mimics right afterwards.

Brooke sputters. “I don’t even know her.”

“Yeah, but you want to.” Asia’s look is knowing, too knowing, and it makes Brooke let out a huff.

“So what?” Brooke doesn’t know why she’s so defensive over it, really. The girls on the cast hooked up with patrons all the time, being careful to keep it under the radar.

But Brooke doesn’t want to only hook up with Vanessa, have her be just a casual option on a rotating list of conquests like many of the other girls have. No, Vanessa’s different. Brooke doesn’t know why, but she is.

_____

Brooke does her makeup differently for their date than the way she does it for work.

Less overdrawn lips, for one, though the same colour. Less dark and sultry eyes, but more colourful. More highlight and less contour. Her face is brighter, though as inviting. Just in a different way.

Brooke spends the entire walk to the restaurant ruminating, because that’s what her brain does best. This time, it’s about the way that she had given Vanessa her number so that she could text her about where and when to meet. It keeps replaying, the way she had run back to where Vanessa was sitting in the crowd to drop a slip of paper into her hand after she had already kissed her cheek goodbye, not maintaining any sense of dignity whatsoever, nope.

So much for being smooth. The memory repeats itself over and over in her head like a broken record, making her cringe. Sometimes, it felt like Brooke’s suaveness disappeared as soon as she stopped performing, leaving behind an impulsivity in her actions that was funny to watch at best, and fully embarrassing at worst.

She beats Vanessa to Sabai Sabai, the restaurant’s lit up sign casting a soft glow on the sidewalk in front of her. The booth that she’s lead to is in a corner of the restaurant, tucked up against two brick walls underneath the soft glow of the lamps hanging from the ceiling.

Vanessa gets there not long after, and Brooke’s breath catches in her throat because she’s equally striking outside of the red light that normally coats the club.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” Brooke goes to hug Vanessa, doesn’t know if she should kiss her cheek or not, because really, where do you go from getting someone off in a private room in a strip club?

Twice?

Brooke can see the way that Vanessa’s eyes roam over her after they sit down, taking her in. It makes her feel less out of her element, more in control, since it’s something that she’s used to experiencing.

What she’s not used to, though, is having to make small talk with her clients ( past clients) while sitting across from them at a table in a busy restaurant.

“So,” Brooke starts, as Vanessa scans her menu, “Ever tried Thai food before?”

“Not really.” Vanessa shrugs. “I mean, I’ve had Thai Express and shit, but that probably doesn’t count as the real thing, right?”

Brooke giggles, shaking her head.

“Oh, come on, don’t look at me like that!” Vanessa objects indignantly, and it occurs to Brooke suddenly that a few other patrons close by have turned their heads to look at the source of noise.

Vanessa out of the club isn’t just lively–she’s loud , too, in a way that’s absolutely unapologetic, and somehow, Brooke loves it.

“Some of us ain’t got wads of tips to eat out with all the time.” Vanessa grumbles, taking a sip of her water, but if she thinks Brooke is going to let her get away that easily, then she’s sadly mistaken.

“But you have over a hundred dollars to spend getting eaten ou–”

Vanessa freezes, and the rest of the joke dies on Brooke’s lips, the realization of just what she was saying hitting her a little too late.

Great. Here they were, trying to get to know the other person outside the context of the club, and Brooke had dragged them right back into it.

God, she’s so stupid.

“So, um… What’s good here?” Vanessa coughs, studying the menu just a little too intently.

“I like the pad see ew.” Brooke suggests, reaching over to tap the picture of the dish on Vanessa’s menu, “Get it mild if you don’t like spice, though.”

“ Bitch, ” Vanessa rolls her eyes, “My dumb ass can barely handle no spice, you ain’t gotta tell me twice.”

“Alright.” Brooke laughs, and Vanessa laughs too, and it’s nice, their dynamic finally feeling almost easy to push forward.

Almost like it’s a perfectly natural thing, to be talking and laughing with the woman in front of her.

Before they can continue the conversation, though, a waitress appears to take their order, and the vibe breaks, silence settling in once again when she leaves.

And they’d been doing so well. Fuck.

“So, what do you do?” Brooke starts, regretting the question as she’s saying it. Surely, she should be able to think of something else, something a little less dorky, but it’s all she can think of at the moment. Besides, where work was concerned, Brooke had already shown Vanessa hers–Vanessa might as well show her hers, too.

“I’m an event planner!” Vanessa lights up a little, and suddenly, Brooke’s question doesn’t seem so lame, after all. Vanessa talks almost non-stop after that, answering all of Brooke’s questions about weddings and bar mitzvahs and mitigating the risk of having romantic candles placed on the staircase of a wedding shoot when the bridesmaids are likely already drunk until their food finally arrives, thick, steaming piles of noodles making their mouths water.

“Oh my God. ” Vanessa is the first to take a bite, barely reacting to how hot the food is as she shovels a forkful into her mouth. “Oh my God.”

“What?” Brooke giggles, her chest swelling with hope that Vanessa’s reaction is a good sign.

“What did you say this was again? Pack see ookie or something?”

“Pad see ew!” Brooke is unable to keep herself from practically screaming from laughter in reaction, spitting out her own noodles.

“Well it’s not ew, it’s amazing!” Vanessa defends herself, only to giggle along too when Brooke laughs even harder. “Lord, I’mma have to start eating out more often.”

Brooke resists the obvious joke she could make, especially now that the ice is safely broken, and shovels in another mouthful of noodles herself, noting with a special bloom of pride that they taste even better than usual.

The rest of the date passes without incident. In fact, it’s probably one of the better ones Brooke’s been on; now that the initial awkwardness is finally over with, their conversation flows freely, and they find they have more in common than Brooke could ever have dreamed of. And even the stuff that sounds like it’s from another world, that Brooke would normally dismiss or disagree with, is suddenly incredibly interesting to her–Vanessa makes it interesting, makes every Pokemon game and every argument about the benefits of liquid versus powder foundation seem like something Brooke actually wants to learn.

And it’s not just Brooke that feels that way. When she finally gets a word in edgewise, finally tells Vanessa about the time she spent living in South Africa or the best cut of chicken at Swiss Chalet, Vanessa’s face is animated the whole time, and Brooke can tell she’s fully listening, thinking about what she’ll say to follow up and learning about Brooke’s perspective on the world. They order dessert just to get a chance to keep talking, and by the time they get the bill and Brooke chances a look at her phone, it’s almost ten o’clock.

“Oh, I should probably get going.” Vanessa chews her lip as she stares at her phone in turn. “I gotta get home, I got a meeting at a venue in the Distillery District tomorrow, don’t wanna be up too late or the commute’s gonna be Hell.”

This is Brooke’s chance - she can either ask for a second date and leave it at that, or she could spring for something more. For a moment, she almost leans towards the conservative option, afraid that going for sex on the first date might put Vanessa off.

Then she remembers how they met, and suddenly, it doesn’t seem like such an outlandish proposition.

“Well, I actually live pretty close to that area…you, um, you wanna crash and just go straight to your meeting in the morning?”

“What’s your address?” Vanessa’s reply is quick, her phone already open to the Uber app to punch in Brooke’s answer.

–

The sex is different this time - it’s slower, more exploratory, more affectionate. Brooke and Vanessa take time to explore each other’s bodies, stroking and kissing every inch of skin, listening for the gasps and whimpers that signal that they’re doing something right.

It’s interesting. For all of Brooke’s bravado, Vanessa only has to run her short nails along the curve of her ribs, kiss along the line of her neck, before Brooke is putty in her hands. Getting Brooke on the bed, bracketing her hips with her thighs is a rush that Vanessa didn’t know she needed. Being the one to make Brooke squirm, hands reaching up to pinch her own nipples because she’s already so needy, wanting more. It’s a role reversal, one that Vanessa wants to take her time with, fully explore the woman underneath her.

“Please.” The word leaves Brooke’s lips in a gasp when Vanessa grabs just a little bit harder at her hip, kisses her neck with a slight graze of her teeth.

“Nuh-uh.” Vanessa catches Brooke’s hand as it’s about to go to her own panties to give herself some relief. “You gotta be good for me.”

Brooke huffs, tries to free her hand, but Vanessa interlocks their fingers, pressing their hands up on the bed beside Brooke’s head.

“Much better.” Vanessa practically purrs the words in Brooke’s ear before biting lightly at her earlobe, making her gasp.

It’s so different from the club to Vanessa, being the one that gets to be in control. The one who can touch Brooke and control the pace and call the shots, all to make the woman underneath her fall apart. It’s not what Vanessa had expected from the night before it started, but now? She doesn’t want it to ever end.

Brooke is bold, though, more so than Vanessa expects her to be, grinding herself down on Vanessa’s thigh to get some relief. The little gasp of pleasure that leaves her mouth makes Vanessa pull her leg back, sit back on her heels, a slight satisfaction running through her veins when Brooke whines.

“Hey!” Brooke pouts, crossing her arms in a way that’s almost endearing. “Come on, don’t tease me like that.”

“Behave, then I won’t have to.” Vanessa shrugs. There’s silence for a moment, Brooke frowning slightly as she weighs her options, until Vanessa decides she’s had enough.

“All I wanna hear is yes, ma’am, then I can go back to makin’ you feel good.” she leans forward to whisper in Brooke’s ear, preventatively reaching her hands up to Brooke’s wrists to pin them down. “You understand?”

Brooke whimpers, and Vanessa pulls away again, forcing her face into a stern expression despite the excitement she can feel spreading in her body. It’s exhilarating, finally being able to call the shots. To see this entirely different side of Brooke, to get to play with it and explore it, explore her.

It’s almost enough to make her cave, but then again, what would be the fun in that?

“I understand.” Brooke finally gives in, the surrender coming out all in one hot, quick breath.

“Good girl.” Vanessa smirks. Realizing she could probably take it even further, traces her hands from Brooke’s wrists up her arms, towards her collarbones as she teases, “Now ask me nicely, baby, be polite.”

There’s a fifty-fifty chance that Brooke won’t buy it, that Vanessa’s headed for another power-struggle. Brooke is a smart woman, though, so she simply huffs before whining something out under her breath, something that sounds a lot like please.  

Unfortunately, that’s just not quite good enough for Vanessa, not when she’s in this kind of mood.

“What was that?” Vanessa brings her fingers down from Brooke’s collarbone along her chest, tracing just shy of her cleavage but not daring to venture any further. “Come on, nice and loud, baby girl.”

She brings her hands down to pinch Brooke’s nipple just as she cries out her plea a little louder, a little more desperate.

“Please fuck me .”

“Better.” Vanessa lets her touch become tender, loosening her tight grip on Brooke’s tits to gently trace circles around her nipple, smiling against Brooke’s jaw as the blonde shivers underneath her.

“So pretty when you’re all undone like this, you know that?” Vanessa kisses her way down to Brooke’s neck, sucks lightly on the skin there. “Can I bite you here, or you can’t get marked?”

“Yeah, no, don’t bite me.” Brooke pants, beginning to squirm when Vanessa answers by humming her understanding against her skin. “I can’t get marked up in my industry. Ruins the illusion.”  She lets out a harsh laugh, but Vanessa only nods. She doesn’t want to do anything to make trouble for Brooke at her job.

“I’ll be careful, then.”

Vanessa threads her fingers through Brooke’s hair instead and grabs a fistful. She tugs slightly, relishing in the way it makes Brooke gasp.

“Looks like I ain’t even need to bite to get you excited.” Vanessa laughs, kissing the nape of Brooke’s neck lightly and scraping it with her teeth, just enough for Brooke to feel the near-sting of a bite and not enough to mark her.

It earns her another gasp, and she files the move away for later, a flash of satisfaction running through her as she tugs on Brooke’s locks a little more, her other hand running down the blonde’s body and leaving goosebumps in its wake.

“So pretty, baby.” Vanessa rasps in Brooke’s ear, and fuck, if the sight of Brooke coming undone underneath her isn’t enough to take Vanessa to the edge, then the noise Brooke makes at the praise certainly is. Vanessa can’t wait any more. So instead, she finally guides her hand home between Brooke’s legs, and starts to work some kind of magic.

“Oh, fuck .” Brooke gasps, so out of breath and desperate that Vanessa can’t help but shiver despite herself as she rubs Brooke through her underwear, feeling the fabric become slicker with every movement as Brooke’s hips twitch back into Vanessa’s hand.

“ More, more, Ness, please. ” Brooke’s voice is barely her own, and it’s cute, somehow, watching her become this much of a mess this early on into things. It’s incredibly tempting; Vanessa almost wants to keep teasing, wants to see just how far she can push Brooke before the woman really, truly loses control, but she stops herself, knowing that Brooke is already close enough to her limit.

Besides, she may be done teasing, but in terms of making Brooke feel good, well. She’s just getting started.

“Let’s take these off, sweetheart.” the pet name falls off Vanessa’s lips easily, despite how strange it feels to be using it for Brooke instead of hearing it directed towards herself. One look at Brooke, though, and Vanessa can tell that the other woman doesn’t mind–in fact, she almost looks more comfortable somehow, reassured, as if the affection the name holds is making things even better. And to a certain extent, it is, even for Vanessa. She’s not just fucking Brooke anymore; she’s making love to her sweetheart.

She wonders, for a brief moment, if Brooke had felt the same way in the club, or if sweetheart was something she called all of her clients. But the thought leaves her mind almost as instantly as it entered it; right now, it doesn’t really matter, because Brooke is squirming and bucking and gripping the sheets, desperately trying to be good and not get ahead of herself as she waits for Vanessa to make good on the promise she just delivered.

“So patient for me.” Vanessa praises, her heart melting a little as she finally hooks her fingers over the waistband of Brooke’s underwear and peels it off of her hips. “Good girl.”

Brooke says nothing, only lets out a shaky exhale, and that’s when Vanessa gets what just might be the best idea she’s had all night.

“Sit on my face.”

Brooke looks up at her, and for a moment, Vanessa thinks she might say no, thinks she might say that she’s afraid of hurting Vanessa. Truth is, Vanessa doesn’t know if she will–she’s never actually tried it before. What she does know, though, is that she wants to try it with Brooke, right now.

“You won’t hurt me, I promise–” she starts, but then Brooke shakes her head.

“I’m not worried about that,” she promises, propping herself up on her elbows and then heaving herself up all the way, “I was just thinking that I was gonna have a hard time staying up on my legs.”

They both laugh, and before the air can settle into any more worry, Vanessa slings her arms over and behind Brooke’s neck, and then she’s laying down, Brooke on top of her trailing kisses as she moves up Vanessa’s body, bit of exposed skin by bit of exposed skin until she’s shimmied her way up above Vanessa’s face. She crouches down, uses her height to plant her hands firmly on the headboard for extra support, and then Vanessa loses her nerve.

“Um, B?” she starts, only to get cut off by a bemused laugh from the blonde above her.

“You’ve never done this before, have you, sweetheart?”

Vanessa reddens and says nothing, suddenly painfully aware of how fast the tables have turned. She doesn’t have much time to feel embarrassed though, because Brooke has already settled into her newfound control and is already taking care of Vanessa, shifting her weight so that she can free a hand to stroke through Vanessa’s hair.

“It’s alright,” she soothes, “Just let mommy teach you, okay? I’ll tell you what to do.”

Vanessa nods, grateful that Brooke didn’t choose to make fun of her for getting insecure. No, Brooke has proven time and time again that she’s not like that, and so Vanessa feels safe as she follows Brooke’s directions to grab her by her hips and lower her down, pull her chin up and breathe through her nose while she reaches her tongue up to just eat Brooke out like she normally would, just like that, keep going, keep going, faster, faster–

Brooke’s legs start to tremble, and Vanessa realizes that for the past few moments, she hasn’t said anything at all–at least, not any coherent words. The only sounds leaving Brooke’s lips are soft gasps that spur Vanessa on more, making her grip Brooke’s upper thighs tighter to pull her closer.

“Just like that, you’re doing so good, baby-”

Brooke’s praises are cut off in a moan that Vanessa’s sure the neighbours can hear, but it doesn’t matter. The way Brooke is moving her hips against her face makes Vanessa never want to stop, not when she can get Brooke so undone without even making her come yet.

But she’s close. Vanessa can tell by the way one of Brooke’s hands has left the headboard to nestle in Vanessa’s hair, pushing her head closer, begging for it without using words. Brooke doesn’t seem like she can, from the incoherent sounds leaving her mouth.

The fact that Vanessa’s the one to make Brooke like this? Getting her so worked up, after being the one at Brooke’s mercy twice before? It’s intoxicating, a feeling of power that Vanessa’s never really felt before.

But she loves it.

Vanessa can feel her fingers making indents in Brooke’s upper thighs as she squeezes them, matching Brooke’s movements. She looks up from her position, sees the way Brooke’s head is tilted back, the way her lips are slightly parted in a gasp.  She sucks on Brooke’s clit, lets out a little moan against her as she does.

“I- fuck , Ness, I-”

Brooke’s words are cut off in a soundless scream and Vanessa doesn’t stop, meeting the jerky movements of her hips until Brooke is pushing off of her, rolling onto the bed beside her.

Her chest is rising and falling erratically and she looks fucked out and Vanessa’s never seen a more beautiful sight in her life.

“Take your time, catch your breath.” Vanessa can’t help the smirk on her face as Brooke turns to lay on her side and face her, rolling her eyes with a smile on her face.

“That was amazing, baby. You did so well for me, did you know that?” Brooke purrs the words as she trails shaky fingers up Vanessa’s arm and shoulder and along her collarbone, and Vanessa feels her cheeks heating up at the praise.

“Such a good girl.” Brooke seems to have caught her breath, sitting back up before climbing back on top of Vanessa. Except the power’s shifted, and Vanessa gulps, squeezing her thighs together.

Because the sight of Brooke straddling her, hair tickling her face before she tosses it out of the way, over her shoulder?

Vanessa’s weak for it.

“No, baby girl, you’re not hiding from me.” Brooke tsks as she spreads Vanessa’s legs apart, shaking her head. Vanessa, for her part, finds herself unable to say anything at all; she’s only able to let out a little squeak as Brooke slots herself between her legs and begins to grind against nothing but the air between them. With every thrust, every swing of her hips, Brooke lowers herself a little closer to Vanessa, almost looking like she might close the distance. But then Brooke giggles, pulls back up, or worse, stops moving at all, and Vanessa’s left ineffectively humping the air, whining with desperation.

It’s absolutely maddening, and Vanessa could do it forever.

Finally, Brooke closes the distance between them, rubbing and grinding herself up against Vanessa, grinning as Vanessa’s slickness meets her own.

“Get up, I wanna try something.” Brooke already has her hands supporting Vanessa’s back, guiding her up as she says it.

“You ever tribbed before?” Brooke continues, giggling affectionately when Vanessa shakes her head, blushing. “Night of firsts for you, huh?” she winks, and Vanessa can’t help but giggle a little too, though she’s not sure whether it’s more out of nerves or excitement.

“Okay, put your legs like this, good girl… Now scootch towards me, and I’ll go here…” Brooke guides them together until they’re fit like puzzle pieces, one of Brooke’s legs over Vanessa’s shoulders and one of Vanessa’s boxing Brooke in close to her in turn.

“Now c’mere.” It’s the last thing Brooke says before she pulls Vanessa forward to close any distance left between them, and then they’re kissing, they’re kissing and grinding and feeling each other, the wet sounds of sex filling the room.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” Vanessa barely recognizes the voice coming out of her mouth as her own, can barely see through the clouds covering her vision as she moves faster up against Brooke, the other woman responding only with huffs and whimpers as she meets each of Vanessa’s thrusts with equal force.

“You gonna come for me, angel? You gonna come for mommy?” Brooke finally grunts out, and yes, Vanessa’s going to come, she’s going to come, she needs to come so badly she can hardly hold it in–

“Ask me for it, baby. Show me how bad you want it.”

As if to cement her point, Brooke changes her pace, going both slower and yet somehow harder than before, and Vanessa is gone, unable to let her pride hold her back any longer.

“Please mommy, please, please let me come, please may I come, oh my God, I need to come, I need to come, I need to–”

“Come, baby, come for mommy.”

They come together, their moans overlapping and intertwining until Vanessa can’t tell who’s feeling what, whose sounds she’s even hearing, and then, gradually, everything is calm. They continue to rut against each other until they’ve both come down from their orgasms, only to separate and finally collapse back onto the bed, completely spent.

“You got two, no fair.” Vanessa pouts as she wiggles closer, nestling into Brooke’s arms. Brooke cocks an eyebrow and reaches down to begin lazily teasing at Vanessa’s clit, but the shorter girl only yelps, twisting away.

“So sensitive.” Brooke teases, “You sure you want another, babe?”

Vanessa sticks out her tongue, but snuggles close again despite herself. “All I’m saying is, you owe me one.”

“I know.” Brooke giggles, kissing Vanessa’s forehead and squeezing her tightly. “But let’s save that for our second date.”

[miss-tricksy]

I Could Fall in Love

Summary: You run into Dean and Sam on the way to digging yourself deeper into the trenches of civilian life. And Sam Winchester sure has grown up since the last time you saw him.

This was written for Yvette’s Mystery Song Challenge. My song was Selena’s I Could Fall in Love. I know the lyrics are way deeper than what I put onto paper here, but this was my first time writing Sam x Reader, so. 

Pairing: none, yet. Just little observations of Sam by Reader. 

You hadn’t seen Sam Winchester for almost 5 years. The last time you had stayed more than a day at your ‘uncle’ Bobby’s house. And he had just been starting to fill out a bit, 17 and starting to become too tall for his own good. Dimples for days and a smile you were honestly a little jealous of. When he walked in to the diner where you were having lunch, you could almost swear you felt the earth tilt just a little.

He came in, eyes down cast, and plopped into a booth, and despite seeming aloof, you noticed him scanning every other patron in the place and the route to every exit. His brother trailed behind, heading straight to the bathroom. Dean had always been a bit of a germ-a-phobe and you knew he wouldn’t touch his burger without washing the road dust off first.

Sam glanced through the menu in record time, which you knew wasn’t much of a feat considering the limited offerings at Mabel’s Place. You watched him glance his brother’s direction, eyes flickering your way for a couple seconds, then smiling at the matronly waitress. Both boys ordered lunch and you debated about saying hello.

You knew Sam’s girlfriend had died in a suspicious fire not too very long ago, and that they were on the tail of something big. World ending, epically BIG. You weren’t sure if you were quite up for that kind of chaos in your life. You were in the process of getting out of hunting and into civilian life. The degree you had gotten in teaching had been a bit of a feat, and so far, the money you were making tutoring was more than enough to pay your rent and finance the odd ghoul hunt. Getting involved in the Winchester’s lives would only complicate things for you.

You sipped your coffee and tore your brownie into chunks, avoiding meeting Sam’s gaze but still noticing him and Dean giving you more attention than most of the other patrons. The last time you had seen them you were barely 16. Your hair was much darker, your braces were still on, and you were a few pounds lighter. The teal rimmed glasses you were wearing made your eyes stand out like crazy and the make-up you had on was unheard of when you had been kids. But it made you feel a little more confident going into the interview you had scheduled later that day.

A wave of nostalgia washed over you, the longer you sat there. Your folks had grown up with Bobby Singer and you had known him your whole life. When his wife died, he got a little weird. Then some guy named John Winchester started showing up at the junkyard with two kids in tow. And Bobby got a little weirder. By the time you were 13 you understood why. Bobby was a Hunter of all things supernatural. You had thought all his strange books were a holdover from his abusive upbringing. When Bobby broke some ribs and a buddy of his was laid up with a whole host of nasty scratches down both legs, your mother had hounded you in to helping Bobby around the house. One day when you were vacuuming you found a particularly wicked looking dagger under the edge of a couch. When you questioned Bobby about it you forced him to tell you the truth about why it was covered in blood.

The summer before your junior year of high school you got to know the Winchesters quite well, but Sam especially. You liked to hang out at Bobby’s and help him do research for his hunts and your parents were happy to know you were staying out of trouble. Sam spent quite a bit of his summer at Bobby’s that year too. He had broken a wrist from a bar fight in May, was recovering from a concussion most of June, and in August John dropped him off while he and Dean hunted werewolves in Canada.

You had let your thoughts wander a bit too long because when you blinked back to reality, Sam Winchester was sitting across from you, one dimple exposed, and watercolor eyes staring at you.

“Y/F/N Y/L/N, you really shouldn’t let strangers sneak up on you like that, you know.”

“Not a stranger if I’ve known you half my life, and helped you change your brother’s bandages, dontcha think, Sam Winchester.”

The smile that lit Sam’s face was the most beautiful thing you had seen in quite a while, both dimples making an appearance. “Guess you’re right about that,” he laughed. He glanced around the small restaurant before asking, “What are you doing in Wyoming?”

Before you could answer Dean fell in to the bench beside you, arm automatically reaching behind you. “Y/N/N you are a sight for sore eyes. You living around here?”

“I was just getting ready to tell your brother, before you so rudely interrupted, I’m on my way to a job interview. There’s a private school about 20 minutes up the road that’s hiring. They apparently have lost 4 or 5 staff members since school started.” You noticed Sam’s eyebrows disappear under his bangs. “One of the positions is basically teaching a folklore class to high schoolers. Thought it would be a good fit for me.” You glanced at Dean, but his gaze was locked with his brother and you could tell they were having one of their ‘private conversations’. “Okay, spit it o………….wait.” Your eyes bounced from freckles to dimples and back. “Is that why you guys are in town? I seriously picked a monster infested school?”

Dean huffed at your description and shrugged his shoulders. “Sam seems to think something’s going on down at Bedford Academy.”

“Dude,” Sam scoffed his brother’s way, “five teachers have gone missing, one was found and was extremely disoriented and swears she just went for a walk around the tennis courts, but was actually missing for 3 days. The school is trying to push for a new set of dormitories. This case is practically on a platter for us.”

“And Sam is afraid Bobby’s going to kick his ass since he hasn’t seen him for oh, five years or so and he’s dragging his feet to get to Sioux Falls.”

Sam glared at Dean, then softened his face when he looked at you. “That is only sort of true. I haven’t been to South Dakota. Bobby came to see me once in California.” His glance toward his brother screamed ‘bet you didn’t know that’. “And we kept in touch through e-mail. I actually think I helped him on one of Y/N’s cases. A weird lightshow in Oklahoma, think it was a bust,” he shrugged then turned a megawatt smile your way. “Anyhow, we should let you get going, I guess.”

You couldn’t help but smile back, butterflies dancing in you stomach. “I’ve got some time. We should catch up a bit. You can fill me in on this case. Maybe I can get you some info when I do my interview. It wouldn’t be weird for me to ask for a tour of the grounds or find out what else is being kept out of the papers.” You flagged the waitress down for some coffee refills, smiling to yourself when Sam made a grumpy face when he realized you had used the last of the good creamer from your table. That smile quickly morphed in to a stifled moan when he leaned back to the booth behind him to grab a handful of the small containers, his abs and treasure trail on full display. You hoped the blush you felt creep onto your cheeks wasn’t as noticeable as it felt.

You spent the better part of the next hour entranced with Sam. He was much different than the boy you remembered, but in the five years since you had seen him last, heartbreak had struck, and the melancholy that washed over his features when he mentioned Jessica made him look 17 again. You weren’t sure whether you wanted to bundle him up and keep him safe or help him arm himself against the monster that took his girl.

When your waitress came over looking irritated, you realized the three of you had outstayed your welcome. Glancing at your watch you noticed that the time had flown by and you were going to be late for your interview if you didn’t leave in the next five minutes. You reached into your bag, and handed a set of keys to Dean along with a card with your cell phone number on it. You grabbed a second card and a pen asking, “What’s the best number to get ahold of you guys? I can call after I’m finished and maybe meet up with your, or we can head to my apartment.”

Dean rattled off a couple sets of numbers as he and Sam stood. Once you were on your feet, Dean embraced you quickly. “Talk to you later, Y/N/N.”

You walked over to hug Sam, too and his arms practically swallowed you up. “It was really good to see you. Really.” You stepped back, trying to catch Sam’s eye, but he was hiding behind his bangs.

“You too, Sam. I hope this case is a bust, honestly. But we should hang out even if it is. Give Bobby a hard time for a couple days.” You weren’t sure where your burst of confidence came from, but you reached up on your tiptoes and tugged Sam’s shirt collar just a bit, placing a kiss on his cheek. “I’ll see you soon.”

You spun and walked away, climbing into your Jeep, and missing Sam’s dumbfounded look. The song on the radio was just ending, some 90s afternoon jam. “So I should keep this to myself, And never let you know, I could fall in love with you.”

[elellan]

Chapters: 31/? MYTHAL’ENASTE

CHAPTER 31 . THE END OF THE PARTY

Riwan relished the fresh feeling of the night’s cool air on her face. She had gone to their rooms and freshened up, took off her heavy jacket and remained with a shirt and her light, leather breastplate. Luckily, she had brought her Dalish powders with her, and she had rubbed plenty of them on her sweaty body. Celebrations had been held to seal Celene and Briala new alliance. How much she rejoiced in having put Briala in a position of power! Gaspard had been sent to jail - she had to beg Celene not to execute the man, it seemed too harsh a punishment. Or too soft, some may say. Then, Lady Morrigan had been recruited and was now preparing her luggage to travel with the Inquisition back to Skyhold - Leliana seemed skeptical, but Riwan didn’t mind having another expert mage in her entourage. And now that all the formalities had been dealt with, new toasts and dances were held in the ballroom. But Riwan didn’t attend them - sick of ceremonies and nobles, she walked with her party towards the gardens, the ones in front of the palace - the ones that hadn’t been covered with corpses by their own hands. They sat on the marble benches covered by roofs of leaves and flowers, the faint sound of music reaching them even there, and the stars dotting the blue velvety sky like diamonds. And the breeze, making her breathe again after she had been suffocated by her helm for hours. No, but the formalities hadn’t ended yet. Announced by the sound of paces on gravel, Cullen reached them, escorting Gerard by his elbow. His face was livid with anger - and with pain for the cut on his forearm, but he would never admit it. “Inquisitor, he’s all yours,” he said, pushing the chevalier towards Riwan. She looked at Cullen with a mildly angry look - there was no need to treat the young De Chalons like that. But Vivienne hastily got up, “Come, Commander. Your arm is paining you, let me help.” Cullen sighed. “This time I’ll have to oblige you, Madame De Fer.” They walked towards a bench nearby and Vivienne cautiously started to heal Cullen’s wound. Gerard stood still in front of Riwan, not daring to look at her. “Will you not sit?” she asked. She felt strangely serene after all they had gone through and she felt capable of big gestures and grand words. She looked around her and Varric nodded before moving towards a farther seat, so as not to disturb them. Gerard sat beside her and still said no word. “My dear Gerard, I know exactly what you could do, if this solution pleases you. Mind you,” she added, “that what happened tonight was my decision only, I conducted the peace talks by my own accord, I did not reaffirm Celene to please you.” The man only laughed under his breath but didn’t look at her. Riwan sighed and went on. “Since it appears that you don’t really like to be a chevalier, even if a captain, what do you think about working for me? You will still hold your role in your legion, but you’ll become my agent too. You’ll have more chances to travel and to carry out diplomatic business. Of course, you should stay in Skyhold at first, your position in the army is a little compromised now, because of your uncle’s imprisonment. And you’d have to comply with Commander Cullen’s orders and tasks. What do you think about it?” Gerad’s face lit up as if the moon had risen only to touch him with its rays. “Is- is it really possible?” he said. He looked at Riwan in amazement and he put his long, black hair behind his ears. “It is, if we manage to convince the Commander that you are a trustworthy soldier. You didn’t make the best first impression on him. But you are trustworthy, aren’t you, Gerard? Plus, the Empress would be really pleased by this arrangement.” Gerard took Riwan’s hands in his with a quick movement and clutched them to his breast. His eyes glistened with tears again. “My life is in your hands now, Inquisitor. I was ready to throw it away tonight and I couldn’t wish for a better outcome. And if Celene’s wishes so, I will comply,” he solemnly said, a tremor in his voice. He kissed her hands, making her laugh uneasily - she was not used to such shows of devotion. “Such gratitude is not needed, Gerard,” Riwan said. She retrieved her hands from his grasp and smiled. “Now I’ll have to convince the Commander…” Gerard tried to say something and moved closer to her, but she lifted an admonishing finger. “Leave it to me. In the meantime I suggest you prepare your luggage and send for your things, you could travel back to Skyhold with us. Or reach us as soon as possible, if it fits you-” “I’ll leave immediately, Inquisitor!” he exclaimed. He got up, took a few steps and then, thinking better of it, he went back and knelt in front of her, making the onlookers chuckle under their breath. He kissed her hand again and said: “I swear loyalty and honor to you, Inquisitor. You have my sword and my life.” Then, he marched away, soon running through the flowerbeds and bushes.

“Aren’t you going to mark your territory around your man, Riwan dear?” Dorian said. Riwan didn’t know how the mage had managed to bathe and redress himself in plush robes before showing himself again at the party. Some of the Inquisition soldiers had managed to carry out trays full of pastries and glasses and jugs full of wine and they were eventually enjoying the reception. Zyn was sitting on the ground, beside a bench were Cassandra and Blackwall were, and they were talking heatedly, the two men clearly drunk. Varric and Bull were entertaining some young damsels not far from them, while Leliana and Josephine were talking with the latter’s sister, Yvette, and with Lady Morrigan, whose pale skin seemed to shine in the night light. Riwan, on the other hand, was occupying the largest bench of all, Dorian and Vivienne at her sides and the tray of pastries in front of them. Vivienne, showing great composure even after their battle, had eaten only two and had declared herself satisfied with the meal. Dorian alternated a grape to a sip of wine and was soon feeling dizzy, while Riwan was eating like a hungry bear who wakes up from hibernation and ready to put on some fat. “Where is he?” she answered, feigning indifference and chewing a cream eclair while picking up another one from the tray. “I left him on the bench under the gazebo. He seems quite beaten,” Vivienne said. “Of course, he doesn’t enjoy our frivolous company,” Riwan bitterly replied. Now that the mission was over, his decided refusal to her dancing proposal was making her burn with rage. She had had to dance with everyone except him and he had barely considered her even during the peace talks. “You seem quite angry, my dear-” “Yes. He refused to dance with me as if I had lice!” “Oh, so you don’t have them?” Dorian said, a mocking smile on his lips. Riwan snorted and the mouthful she was chewing got stuck in her throat and made her cough. “Darling, you are disgusting…” Vivienne said, grimacing and swiftly handing her a handkerchief. “Besides, I think it was a hard evening for him too.” “It seems that every orlesian noble took his time to harass the charming Commander!” Dorian laughed. “I should have joined the group too!” “I am serious!” Vivienne protested, raising her voice over Riwan cough and laughter. “For someone so Fereldan as he is this soirée must have been a total nightmare.” “This is true…” Riwan said, still amused. She sighed, “I’ll go and fetch him, so he can bring some joy and sunshine to our company!” Dorian laughed at her comment and drank the rest of his wine. She got up and put some snacks in a handkerchief, stuffing one in her mouth before walking away.

CONTINUE ON AO3

[smilingformoney]

America’s Most Eligible 3 Diamond Scene: Show Your Friends a Good Time

You: Let’s round up our crew. You gather your friends and raid the mansion’s kitchen before charging upstairs to the balcony! You close the sliding door behind you as your wedding party makes drinks and ravages the snacks. With so many bodies in the confined space, Eden nearly spills her drink. Eden: If ten weeks in the AME mansion didn’t bring us together, one afternoon out here sure will. This balcony is… cozy. You: Now that you mention it, the mansion’s a lot smaller when no one’s getting eliminated every week… Best Man: Oh, we know. Thanks to the lack of privacy, I’d say we’ve gotten to know each other pretty intimately. You: In that case, I think it’s time we play an AME All-Stars favourite! Bianca: Pleeease say Truth, Dare, Drink, or Strip. Adam said we missed the last game, and I still haven’t had a turn. Han: Uh, some of us weren’t on the All-Stars season… Kiana: And thanks to Carson’s poor planning, I missed the team bonding. You: Then I guess the first round is just for the newbies. Slater, Eden, Bianca, you guys can jump in too. Fiancée: Usually, you’d choose between telling the truth, doing a dare, taking a drink or baring it all, but I think we can start off slow with just a group dare. Best Man: I say we officially welcome the newbies to the pack by daring them to howl like wolves. Maid of Honour: Or, we can dare them to speak in Pig Latin for the rest of the night. Officiant: Why don’t we let Jamie decide?

You: I want them… -To howl at the moon!

Eden: It’s the middle of the day! You: It’s sunset somewhere. Eden, Slater, Bianca, Han and Kiana gather at the balcony’s edge. With nervous looks at each other, Han starts off. Han: Awooooo! Bianca: Awooooo! Slater: Awooooo! Their baying echoes through the neighbourhood… until other dogs begin to howl back! Nearby, a jogger looks for the source.

-Tongue-tied!

Han: How do you even speak Pig Latin? You: You just drop the first letter of a word and add it back to the end with -ay. Kiana: Ike-lay is-thay! Eden: Ut-bay is-that… say… lay… Eden: I speak three languages, and this is easily the hardest. Slater: The only language I know is English, and even that’s fifty-fifty.

You and your fiancée explode with laughter, and your best man and your maid of honour grip their sides. Your officiant shakes with silent joy. Slater: Laugh it up. Revenge is a dish best served cold. Kiana: And in the spirit of the game, I think it’s your turn, Jamie. You: Do your worst. Han: Careful what you ask for. I have a dare that’ll send you running for the outfield. Eden: When my sorority sisters play this, I always get some pretty juicy dirt from girls who pick truth. Bianca/Slater: I think Jamie should strip down and give the neighbours a sneak peek! Kiana: Or we’ll let you off the hook, and you can drink this beer instead. Slater: At least make them shotgun it. Fiancée: Pick your poison, Jamie. Truth, dare, drink, or strip! You: Hmm…

What do you do? -Shotgun the beer!

You: I think I’ll just drink. Kiana: With those options, I don’t blame you. You take a can from Kiana, carefully feel around for the pocket of air, and puncture a hole in the aluminium. Slater: Chug, chug, chug! You: Bottoms up.

You: … -Chug! -No action

The pressure sends the beer rushing down your throat!

You: … -Chug! -Choke! -No action

The can lightens as it empties… You’re almost there!

You: … -Choke! -Cough! -Chug! -No action

You guzzle the frothy ale from the hole in the side, gulping it down and leaving the can empty in seconds! You: Ladies and gentlemen, may I present… YOUR SHOTGUN CHAMP!

-Do a dare!

You: What’d you have in mind, Han? Han: Ronan and Yvette are always talking about the ‘good old days’ of AME, but I think we should show them the good new days are here to stay! Han: So I dare you to jump off the roof of the mansion into the pool! You: Are you crazy? Derek: Ronan’s the only one who’s ever done that… and there was a rumour that he was on peyote when he did! Adam: You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, Jamie. You: A dare’s a dare… To the roof!

You all climb the stairs to the rooftop before pushing open the heavy metal door and coming to stand at the ledge. You: You mean to tell me that wise, sensible Ronan jumped from here? Derek: No, but wild, reckless Ronan did. Mackenzie: I’m guessing wisdom found him on the way down. Han: Ball’s in your court, Jamie. What’s it gonna be? You peer over the railing, taking in the steep drop and the distance to the pool… You: You can’t be old and experienced without being young and stupid first. Quickly, you strip down to your underwear, hand your clothes to Adam, and climb over the railing. You: Incoming! You leap from the roof, the rushing air deafening as you leave the ground behind. The world spins wildly around you, and you tuck your chin into your knees…

Until you hit the water with a loud splash! You resurface to the cheers of your wedding party and sprint back up to the balcony before Wrenn or Omar can see you.

-Moon the neighbours!

You: I guess it’s time to show the neighbourhood my best side. Slater: Why don’t you show off your assets to… him? Slater points out a target, and you peer over the ledge to see a man skulking around the mansion’s perimeter. Stranger: … Slater: Time to turn the other cheek. You: Here goes nothing… You hesitate for just a moment before calling down to him… You: Take cover! It’s raining cracks and dogs! Stranger: Huh? …And whipping your clothes aside to bare your backside in his direction! The balcony explodes with laughter, and you quickly yank your outfit back into place.

-Confess the truth!

You: Let’s see how far you can dig, Eden. Truth. A mischievous smile crosses her face, and she quickly scans the group. Eden: Out of everyone on your team… who would you choose to dump, bang, and marry? You: Well, marry is easy— Fiancée: I sure hope so. You: But the other two are tricky. You glance around the balcony to see nine sets of expectant eyes looking back at you. You turn back to your fiancée. You: I’d marry and bang my fiancée, and then dump them so I could do it all over again. Fiancée: Thanks… I think. Eden: How very diplomatic of you.

Best Man: Nicely done, Jamie. You: Thanks, but that doesn’t get you off the hook. If my math’s right, a few of you still haven’t had a turn. Fiancée: Take your best shot. We can handle whatever you throw at us. Maid of Honour: And to prove it, why don’t you do the honours and tell us who’s next? You: Alright then…

Who do you pick? -Your maid of honour!

You: I pick you, Jen/Mackenize. Truth, dare, drink, or strip?

-If Jen is your maid of honour Jen: Something tells me I might regret this, but… dare.

-If Mackenzie is your maid of honour Mackenzie: You know me better than that, Jamie. Dare.

You grab a bag of marshmallows from the snack pile and hold them out to her. You: You’ve got ten second to stuff all of these in your mouth, or… You: You’ll have to confess your undying love for Omar on set! Maid of Honour: What?! Fiancée: Starting.. now! Your maid of honour rips open the bag and shoves marshmallows in by the fistful! Kiana: Look at her go! Han: I’m not sure whether she likes marshmallows… or just really doesn’t like Omar. You: 3… 2… 1… Stop! You reach for the bag to reveal… One remaining marshmallow! Your maid of honour’s eyes widen nearly as much as her cheeks. Fiancée: Looks like we might have to make this a double wedding.

-Your best man!

You: Looks like you’re up, Adam/Derek. Truth, dare, drink, or strip? Best Man: Knowing you guys, a drink is probably my best best. He grabs a nearby bottle of champagne and turns it bottom up, gulping down the bubbly liquid… Eden: … Bianca: … Han: … Until the pressure inside the bottle builds, gushing a stream of froth all over him! He shoots up, swiping at his clothes. Best Man: Whoa! Best Man: …Still better than one of Jamie’s dares.

-Your officiant!

You: Looks like you’re up, Officiant. Truth, dare, drink, or strip? Officiant: If I’m gonna play, I might as well go for it. Dare. You: I dare you to practice officiating… using my maid of honour and my best man as stand-ins. Maid of Honour: Hey, I thought this was your officiant’s dare? Officiant: Don’t worry. I’ve got an idea. The three stand up, and your wedding party circles around them as your best man takes your maid of honour’s hands. Officiant: Do you, Adam/Derek take Jen/Mackenzie to legally be your bestie? To have on your worst days and to hold on hers? Until the end of time? Best Man: I do. Officiant: Jen/Mackenzie? Maid of Honour: Absolutely. Officiant: Then I hereby pronounce you BFFs. You can hug it out to signify your bromance. Your officiant bows, and your maid of honour gives your best man a squeeze before throwing an imaginary bouquet to your friends.

-Your fiancée!

You: Looks like you’re up, Fiancée. Truth, dare, drink, or strip? Fiancée: How about… truth? You: Playing it safe? Fiancée: With you in charge of the questions, there’s no such thing. What do you wanna know, Jamie? You take a moment to think, before looking your fiancée right in the eye. You: Why do you want to marry me? Your fiancée smiles and takes your hands, never once breaking eye contact. Fiancée: Before I met you, I felt like I’d been looking for something without knowing what it was or what it looked like. Fiancée: But when I laid eyes on you, I realised the search was over. I felt at home. At peace. I want to marry you, because… Fiancée: You’re what I’ve been missing my whole life. And after knowing how this feels, I can’t go back to the way I was before. You: Fiancée… You press your foreheads together, their mouth inches from yours… Han: Get a room! …Before remembering you’re surrounded by your friends! The group cheers as the two of you blush and separate.

-Bianca/Slater!                                                          

You: Why don’t you go, Bianca/Slater? Truth, dare, drink, or strip?

-If you kissed Bianca Bianca: A body like mine is too hot to keep under wraps. I’ll strip...

-If you kissed Slater Slater: I know you guys are too shy to ask, so I’ll give you what you’ve been wishing for. I’ll strip…

Bianca/Slater: But can I at least get some music? You make eye contact with your best man across the balcony, and together the two of you start singing the AME theme song! Soon, the others join in. Bianca/Slater: You’ve gotta be kidding me. Kiana: Come on, Bianca/Slater. Shake it! With a roll of the eyes, Bianca/Slater begins to wiggle and gyrate, dropping articles of clothing with every twist and turn before finishing with a flourish. Bianca/Slater: You’re welcome.

You wait for the cheers to settle down before grabbing a drink from the beverage pile and holding it high. You: I’d like to make a toast. All eyes land on you, and you look around at your friends, your eyes watering as you think back on all that you’ve been through together… You: When we started this special, my fiancée and I knew we were in for a wild ride, but we had no idea it would be this much fun— Slater: Wait, wait, wait… You’re not gonna cry are you? You: Well, I— Slater: Come on, Jamie. Enough with the sad sack, sappy toasts. Give us something fun to go out on! Slater grabs a handful of chips and hops to his feet, flinging crumbs all over Bianca, who flips him off, irritated. He raises a chip. Slater: You all know I was the ‘villain’… but what you don’t know is that I loved every second. Slater: So, here’s to doing bad, looking good, and never getting those two mixed up! He bites down with a satisfied crunch, unleashing more crumbs, and Bianca bolts to her feet, her champagne in the air. Bianca: To being the most fabulous dresser in the house. It’s a tough job, but someone has to do it. Eden: In that case, to age before beauty. You: Alright, alright. I think I get the point.

You: Here’s to… -Team Jamie-Fiancée! +50

You: I can’t imagine having a more passionate, loving, and supportive team... You: Actually, I can, but I prefer you guys.

-Strangers that became family! +50

You: Now if only that worked in reverse.

-Memories we’ll never forget! +50

You: May the paparazzi pay us well for ‘em.

Your wedding party laughs before each chiming in with a more outrageous toast than the last until Jen’s walkie talkie chirps from its perch on the table. Suddenly, you all fall silent. Wrenn: The crow is in the nest. I repeat, the crow is in the nest. We’re go for filming. Jen: That’s our cue. Are you ready, Jamie? You: I guess it’s now or never… You look your fiancée in the eye, your heart threatening to beat out of your chest. You: Let’s go win a wedding.

You and your wedding party saunter back out onto the patio to find a scowling Vince. Vince: And just where have you been?

-If you dared your maid of honour

You: That’s for us to know and you to wonder. Right now, I think my maid of honour has something to say to Omar. Your maid of honour shoots you a look but turns to face him. The crew stops what they’re doing to stare. Maid of Honour: Omar, I can’t hide it anymore. I’ve been in love with you since I first laid eyes on your handsome face. Omar: Jen/Mackenzie, I… I don’t… He looks up to find your wedding party red faced from holding in their laughter. You catch his gaze and break, your grin betraying the joke. Omar: Ha. Ha. Everybody get back to work.

-If you dared anyone else

Kiana: Doesn’t feel good when the shoe’s on the other foot, huh?

[ernestsinclairs]

Everybody Talks - Ahmed x MC

Ahmed x MC (Sophia)

“I’m sure I’ll see you again. Paris has that effect on people.”

“I guess you know that better than me,” Sophia giggled, hesitating but a moment before laying a hand on the cusp of Ahmed’s cheek. The spring Parisian air was warm enough, heavier so in the hours of the night, but the warmth of his skin still sent a special thrill through her. 

“We’re playing the day after tomorrow on Thursday,” Ahmed started, pausing to think a little before offering her an arm to escort her out. “I’d love to see you there.”

“I’ll see if my editor can find time for it in my schedule,” Sophia said, gratefully taking it. “Of course, I’ll make the time if she doesn’t.”

“I love that about you,” Ahmed chuckled softly as he ushered her into the gilded elevator. “Always determined aren’t you?”

“That’s how I got here.”

“And I’m guessing that’s how you’re going to stay,” was his response. “I can have a VIP box ready for you if you want.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Sophia mused. “It would be nice to be able to see you even better. Should I want to?”

“That would make me happy, wouldn’t it?”

The two of them padded through the rich hotel lobby, swerving behind a bellhop’s cart as a small clump of Beverly Hills socialites came veering in their direction, giggling and phones already at the ready. It’d make quite the headlines if the newest soccer legend of Europe was photographed with a just hired photographer from the states. Headlines that she - or at least Yvette - wouldn’t take kindly to just yet.

“This is where I must leave you,” Ahmed said politely, reaching to open the door for her before the doorman could step in. “Of course, it doesn’t mean I want to.”

“I’ll have to fact check that later,” Sophia shot back. “Journalistic integrity after all.”

His laugh rang in the air as Sophia slipped out the hotel entrance, wrapping her scarf tighter around her throat as she looked out for any bystanders. Sighing in relief at the sight of none, she quickly made her way down the rain slick pavement, a few sparrows rustling from their position as she cut through their path. 

If Paris had been confusing when she’d first arrived, then it was ten times so at night. The throngs of American tourists and Chinese traveling parties were long gone, leaving no clueless herd to follow to some landmark. The shops had long since been shuttered, and few cars dotted the Parisian streets to call out for. It would be a long walk home.

But not that she minded. The sound of rain droplets smacking against her heels and pitted pavement faded to the back of her mind as she sucked in her breath, reliving every word of every conversation that night. The taste of sweet strawberries and the delicate layers of mille-feuille settled on her tongue again, accompanied by the tang of spiced takeout that Ahmed had managed to sneak past the team dietician. And of course, the taste of the sweet words that had passed through her lips - and his - that night.

“I’m not going to lie, home is rather far away for me right now,” Ahmed admitted, not meeting her eye for once. 

“But is home not the people? For me, home was always what I made it.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I love my teammates,” Ahmed laughed, leaning back into his seat relaxedly. “But if I had to live with them for the rest of my life, one of us is going to have to go.”

“Or maybe home doesn’t need to be with them,” Sophia said softly, testing the waters before jumping right ahead. “Maybe home is with someone else?”

He looked at her then, dark eyes boring into her face, the carefree smile gone and replaced with a sober, thinking look.

“Maybe so.”

The Hotel Bastille loomed up, and Sophia opened the door just a crack, praying the little bell on the door wouldn’t ring so loud. Three in the morning was no way for the concierge staff to wake up, just for one girl returning from a glorious night. It was nobody’s business really.

The thoughts swirled again as she climbed the steps meekly, careful to skip the third step on the second landing. The creak on it had made her a little nervous the first day, and she couldn’t risk a sprained ankle now. Even with the wonders of European healthcare, she doubted it would get her up and walking within the few hours she had.

“Where were you?”

Sophia blinked in the dark, then blinked harder as the light suddenly flooded on, revealing Marisa leaning against the wall, Sumire blinking wearily behind her.

“It’s three in the morning, Sophia,” Marisa pressed, pointing at the room clock as if doing so would change it. “Three in the morning!”

“I know, I know,” Sophia winced. “I know how to read a clock, I passed elementary school.”

“Well apparently not,” the other woman moped. “Even a kindergartener wouldn’t walk home alone at three in the morning.”

“Look, I made it, alright?” she reassured. “I’m safe, there’s not a part of me missing or anything. I think I would know if something happened to me.”

Marisa studied her for a moment as Sumire fell back into bed, pulling the duvet over her head to protect against the light. As soon as she opened her mouth, Sophia promptly switched the light back off.

“Did you do something with someone tonight?” Marisa asked, fumbling her way back to her bunk. “That’s the only thing I can think of.”

“I got lost,” Sophia lied, hiding the rest of the answer in a purposeful mumble as she slid her pajamas on. “Paris is a confusing place, isn’t it?”

“The city’s built on a grid.”

“Well, I may have passed elementary school, but not geometry,” she joked. “Who knows, this probably happens to a lot of people.”

“You didn’t get lost, Sophia. I know that,” Marisa groaned. “Why do you think you can get away with it?”

“Get away with what?”

A tiny point of light flared up as Marisa passed her phone between the beds, a tabloid article from a few minutes ago blown up. 

The new champion’s league? Mysterious woman seen with star player Ahmed . . .”

Sophia threw the phone back, not caring to read the rest of the title. It would all be the same, a few clickbait worthy titles, a blurry photo of her and Ahmed through glass hotel doors, and a few statements from rabid fans. 

“Tell me when Yvette calls in the morning.”

“Your boss? Sophia, these are the tabloids linking you and a pro. I think that’s a little more important than a call from your boss. 

“Trust me, I don’t think she’ll be too happy about this,” she groaned. “I’ll get a lecture on upholding the reputation of the company or whatever. Just tell me when she calls so I won’t get totally blindsided.”

There was a pregnant pause as Marisa prepared to say more, then welcome silence as she decided against it. The rustle of her blankets and a pout visible even through the darkness betrayed her true feelings.

“I’m just saying, you’re on a roll, Sophia,” she murmured as the two of them curled up for the night. “Barely a week later and you’re over here seducing pro players.”

“Not seducing,” Sophia fought back drowsily. “We just talked tonight.”

“Oh sure,” the other girl replied dryly. “Well, I guess we’ll see what the people say tomorrow.”

“Everybody talks,” Sophia mumbled. “Just let them.”

[js-holmes]

A familiar smile by JS Holmes

It was a quiet night, the wind was gently brushing against his collar as he stared through the pipesmoke, his eyes begging for relief as they were cast towards the naked sky. His hopes slowly fading like the embers from his last inhalation. The gentle cloud journeyed through the breeze, carrying the troubled exhale of a loud mind. 

For it was not the first time that Samuel had found himself standing on the prairie, seeking solace from the dark night, he reflected upon how things were. The things he had been told about the world, and how it made him question his own circumstance. Samuel was haunted by the tales from across the sea, and how life seemed empty. 

The journey began in the town of Newport, two hundred miles from where he stood right now. One night, he arrived quietly on a merchant ship from another province. As he arrived into town, he was greeted by new people, and new faces. Including a woman called Yvette. She was old, with a wise face, and yet, it betrayed her. Often she would be tangental, and nervous. She was highly suspect of the locals, and yet treated travelers with kindness. For she had once been one, and knew the heart of a traveler is worth thrice that of an ordinary person.

Most kept away from her, but Samuel had grown fond of his newfound acquaintance. After he was done working, he would visit her. She even let him sleep in her old toolshed when Samuel could not afford patronage. 

And yet, it wasn’t hers. It had belonged to her sister, a woman by the name of Grace. Grace was colourful, boisterous, and full of life. Much like how Yvette trusted too little, so did Grace trust too much. And yet, things had not always been this way. 

With her sister’s passing, Yvette was all on her own until Samuel began to speak with her. While she might be strange, she certainly had experienced life. She told many stories. Stories about hope, about despair, about fear, about love, and about heartbreak. 

She told him about the war, how it cast the skies dark. How as a little girl, she had to flee an enemy like none other. The kind of enemy that are merely shadows on the horizon, who are strangers to the land. Who traveled far and wide to take what wasn’t theirs. How their cannons had roared at night, and how they never advanced. 

Always the cannons would thunder, and the sky would shine with fire, and everyone would hide. 

As each night passed, her village grew smaller and smaller. Ruins and death haunted each crevice. The war went on like this for a long time, the villagers could do very little, as their rifles shot faster and further, and their cannons longer distances. They were an impossible enemy, and complete strangers. 

One night, Yvette had snuck towards their battlements to look at them, see who they were and what they were doing. As she got closer, she spotted a lone watchman. He had a strange uniform, with ornaments and craftsmanship she had never seen, nor thought possible. ‘’What must their world be like?’’, she thought to herself.

Eventually the watchman saw her, and she froze with fear. He smiled at her. For a moment she felt hesitant, but eventually she realised she was not in danger after all. He touched the brim of his hat, and bowed his head. 

She did not know what this meant. But she copied the gesture. He smiled once more. She eventually ran away, and the watchman, amused by the novelty of it all, went back to duty once more.

That night, as the cannons thundered, Yvette was confused. How could the man smile at her, as though they were friends, and then proceed to fire more volleys at her village? Did he not understand people lived there?

A large flash of light lit up her bedroom for a second, an infernal red, and the large booming sound followed, as the windows rattled from  the shockwave. Her bed was shaking, and the small wrought iron chandelier in her bedroom fell off its hook and made a terrible racket. 

Then came the smell... that terrible smell. She had never smelled so much of it at once. It smelled like burning hair. She prayed at her bedside for all her neighbors, as she knew she would not meet many of them again. She prayed for the cannons to end, for peace to return, for the souls of the departed. She prayed the smiling man would realise that people lived in her village.

Samuel listened intently. Yvette was only seven when this happened. Grace was nine. Eventually the cannons stopped, several weeks later. But by then, she was gone. Her sole surviving relations consisted of an uncle, who had lost his arm. His name was Rupert. They didn’t share any blood, but he had worked for a long time with Yvette’s mother, and the two had become friends. Eventually he was invited to gatherings and festivities. She tried to remember the songs they sang, but the only sound in her memory was the rattling of the windows. 

One night, her mother and father did not return from work. Only Rupert did. He told her about terrible things. About fire, and screaming, and blood. People in the village had always been honest, never hid anything. The truth was the lifeblood of understanding, and so, many of them had grown wise. Even little children. There was a time when Yvette had a wise mind, but the wisdom was clouded by memory. 

Now she was alone, and isolated. The people in her newfound home said she was uncivilised, sired by usurpers and rebels. In many ways she had no home, for she was regarded as an intruder. The children would throw stones at her house, and call her a heathen and a witch. Grace was her only joy, and now she did not even have that.

She was promised peace, but peace is a land without enmity. 

Rupert took her to a town not far away, where none had seen the enemy, but barely heard stories about them. Yvette became something of a novelty, as people would listen to her tales, and her woe. Many took sympathy upon her plight, and thus she was offered a new home, and a new family. 

Rupert was pleased with this, and left her to join her new household. Yvette became a scholar, she would read books and write chronicles about the town. For many months she had a peaceful life, and she became close friends with her sister Grace. Her new parents welcomed her, and yet had few expectations. They gave without wanting anything in return, for such was the custom of her people. 

Yvette thrived, and so did Grace. They were very different, and yet hopeful. The war seemed like a distant memory. But one day, she received a visitor. A man. His face looked hard and weatherbeaten. He was unkempt and dirty, like a rambler. He had a rifle on his shoulder, and tattered clothes. He told her about Rupert. How Rupert had gone back to the village, and seen the enemy there. 

They had taken the ruins as their own, and built a mine down the road. Strange carriages would carry off minerals past the hills, to an unknown place. Terrifying noises came from within. Impossible rumblings and drones that offended the ear, and deafened nature. 

These were no ordinary people, and no ordinary enemy. Rather, they were unnatural, with magic from beyond our world. It had corrupted their souls, and driven them to take what was not theirs. They had slayed so many, that they had lost themselves. 

Rupert had found a band of highwaymen, who had seen this strangeness, and its accompanying death. For they had known hardship, and their hearts wept for the senseless destruction. 

He joined them, as they were going to defend their lands, and the people within their lands. For robbery is the justice of the poor, and so is resistance. 

They had begun to waylay the carriages, and fought the enemy. Up close they were like any men, without their cannons they had little advantage. Especially once they had taken their rifles, which were strange in mechanism. Capable of holding several charges, made of brass rather than paper. It took some time, and a few injuries from the springs, but eventually they learned.

Rupert had been shot during a skirmish with an enemy patrol. He was dead. Yvette was stunned for a moment, she could not feel anything. It was as if someone had told her it was going to rain tomorrow. Her heart met the statement with indifference. For she loved Rupert, and even though she heard what the man said, she still anticipated him to return. It was not until the comforting embrace of Grace, that she finally realised, and grief struck her like the tide strikes the cliffside. 

Grace was her only comfort, the two became close, and as they grew old enough for apprenticeship, the two of them wanted to move to the city. 

Their parents gave them their blessing, and so they went to a relative in the city. 

But their love for one another bloomed into something beyond that of foster siblings. It wasn’t long before Yvette was beguiled by Grace, and so, as they crossed the border, they were no longer siblings.

Years passed, and the two learned a trade by one another’s side. Until, one day, Yvette asked her foster parents for their blessing. 

The two were eventually married.

But once more,  the dark clouds came, as the strange people from the other side of the world, had moved closer to the border. The city was armed, and ready to defend itself. But this time there was no cannons, nor soldiers. Rather, the skies would begin to rumble unnaturally, and bombs would fall from the clouds.

Grace and Yvette found shelter in eachother’s arms, and the city around them collapsed. They cried, and prayed.

Eventually a convoy arrived, and took them far away. They crossed many borders, and passed many checkpoints. Life seemed stranger and stranger, as they moved further and further. For three years they had no home. They slept in trucks, in ships, in shelters, and sometimes in nothing but eachother’s arms. They had to fight for scraps, and hide from cruel men in the night. But they had eachother.

As time went on, they eventually boarded a ship to the empire. A strange place for away, that they had only heard of in languages they could barely speak. The newspapers and telegrams were impossible to understand, as the new land they were in had a very different alphabet from their own. 

They held one another as they traversed on the ship, until a bosun spotted them, and separated the two.

‘‘I mean no harm.’‘ he said, as he spoke their language.

‘‘But where we’re going, the others do. They are not like us, and they do not approve of our ways.’‘

He gestured to some of the imperial sailors. All the sailors were men, and no women worked on the ship. The only women among them, were the few who had been taken as wives on the journey.

The two of them sighed. As they had once more become sisters. 

As they arrived, they could hear the same strange and impossible noises. And, as the ship moored, they saw strange clothes, and strange things. Carriages without horses, lights without fire, music without bands. 

The new world lain before them felt hollow, as if everyone was missing. The people they saw seemed to go nowhere, and do nothing. They simply entered a building, and sat there until afternoon. There was no crafts, no intrigue, men in uniforms ushered people off the streets if they were found to be loitering. The only sound was the sound of their dreaded machines. 

Samuel thought about it. How unfamiliar it all must have been. The things he took for granted. He wondered about Yvette’s home, and their ways. Perhaps they had things that the empire had lost.

As Yvette and Grace grew older, they went out for an evening stroll. In a moment of weakness, they embraced, little did they know that they had been seen by the townsfolk in their strange tenements. Packed into boxes like rats. The windows seemed so innocuous, and yet several of them hid eyes full of malice.

This is how Yvette lost Grace. As one morning, she went out to buy groceries, and on her way there, she was met by a knife in the dark. She had been struck down in the cold air at the hands of a stranger, who proclaimed her a savage.

A few weeks later, she went to a courthouse to watch the proceedings. She wanted to understand. Why someone would take away her only love, the only person she could talk to, and why.

As the accused was brought forward, she saw a ragged man who seemed to be without a home. On his tattered jacket he wore medals and insignia. He confessed to the crime, saying it was a matter of honour and patriotism, how he had kept the savages away as he did before to earn his medals.

The judge, with sympathy, sentenced him with lenience. Due to the circumstance of his service, and how he had acted with honour. He did not see Yvette, as she sat among the townsfolk. She let out a deep sigh, too exhausted for tears.

As she left the court room, she stood outside. She wanted to look at him, to understand him. To understand why. The man walked outside, she appraised him, as they stood there, face to face.

He was old, and scarred. His hair grew in patches, and his beard was covered in filth. But then, she froze with fear.

As he touched the brim of his hat, and gave her an all too familiar smile... 

[devilsnwitches]

SSDD - Ch3 - Into the Fire

AO3 <Link - Written by Me & @lynxtigerwritings

Tags = AU Canon-Divergent / Canon-Typical Behavior

Pairings = Vergil-OFC / Dante-OFC / Nero-Kyrie / V-OFC / Nero-V

Note - READ LOVE’S SACRIFICE BEFORE THIS CHAP IF YOU HAVEN’T - Pairing V/OFC

“Are you shittin’ me? Three to four months and you guys haven’t been attacked yet? What the actual fuck?” Was the first thing Yvette said once she and Charlotte got the full story.

Charlotte had to agree with Yvette. Demons should have been swarming them the moment the deal had been made. They should’ve been prime targets for any and all sorts of attacks. That demon either had the patience of a saint, or there was something more at play. She looked over at the blue-black bird that was resting on V’s shoulder. Golden-beady eyes were steadily watching her, assessing.

The light bulb came on quick in her head. There was indeed a reason why demons weren’t attacking this kid, and it had nothing to do with the deal. “You’re Mundus’ familiar.” She turned to Yvette. “The fallen King of the Underworld. The throne is still up for grabs.”

“Well ain’t that a plot twist,” Yvette whistled, “Damn, V, you go man.”

V glanced towards his room where he’d done the ritual all those months ago. Yvette’s praise felt...good, in a way, but he bowed his head to her. "‘He who holds to himself a joy, doth the winged life destroy’." Taking every precaution had been what gotten him this far. At least that was what he liked to believe. “Xina told me you had...advice for me.”

Charlotte let out a long, slow breath. Her eyes wandered. His tattoos, the circles under his eyes, and how he held himself. It was clear that this took energy. She didn’t know what price he paid, but she didn’t doubt it was a heavy one. She glanced over at Alexina, who was quiet. They were both soft-spoken, good-hearted kids. She inhaled sharply and let it out again. “Kid...no.” She shook her head, “V.” She looked at him. His eyes were fierce. They told a story without her having to ask for a word. “I’m gonna be blunt and honest with you because I respect you. You’re one of the few people that I’ve sat with, had a conversation with, and know for a damn fact that my sister and I might not get out of here alive if we went up against you. That’s saying something coming from a seasoned witch of thirty years or so. Whatever demon you made a deal with...they fucked up. They weren’t expecting you, but they also won. Whatever price you told them you’d pay...and believe me I can take a gander...they got more than what they bargained for. What that means, is that your life is no longer going to be easy. I’m not talking about the pain and the familiars. I’m not even talking about demons coming after you. There are people who’d want exactly what you can do. That’s not to say you can’t live a normal life. You’d have to fight for that. What I am saying is that...your new normal isn’t going to be fun and games.”

The silence was heavy and she knew V was hanging on to her every word. He was an observer. He looked and listened, a lot more than most people. Griffon didn’t seem to be too thrilled with the thickness of the conversation, ruffling his feathers and trilling. He didn’t like her very much and she didn’t blame him. Lysander reputation went far into the Underworld. Just like Dante’s. Soon to be this kid. “My advice to you, V, is to learn what you got. You can harness demon energy, summon things from the Underworld, and make it your bitch. That’s not easy. Not everyone has that kind of willpower, that kind of spirit. You’re both a hazard and the most dangerous person I know. I know the Sparda brothers. They’re as dangerous as you and they’re older.”

V looked down at his hand, examining the tattoos that only barely went over his knuckles, “‘I am a series of small victories and large defeats, and I am as amazed as any other that I have gotten from there to here’.” Glancing up again he knew for sure that Alexina and himself wouldn’t continue to be so lucky to be left alone. He had read about Sparda, same as any other who was smart enough to learn history. Of course he had thrown himself headfirst into that world. “Is there anyone that can teach me? Reading will only get me so far. If I have this power, I might as well put it into practice.”

“Now we’re talking!” Griffon cackled.

Charlotte looked at Yvette, a slight head-tilt and a raised brow. There were plenty of people. They could do it, at the very least get him on the basics, a foundation. Dante and Vergil could do it as well. Demon hunters and half-demons as they were, they had been around the block. She wasn’t sure if she should lump Vergil there, honestly. Nero and Kyrie were another factor. They were part of the Order a long time ago.

Her lips pursed. They had options, but the question isn't quantity. It was quality. There was no one that’d teach him summoning, he would have to learn through trial and error. “If that’s what you want to do, then we’ll help you find someone that can,” Charlotte said after a moment. “Dante has a network of people, I’m sure there’s bound to be someone he can recommend to you to help. If not, I’ll take you.” She looked at V squarely. “If, of course, I’m up to your standards.” She glanced at Griffon. “I already know how you feel about me, chickie.”

“Oh, you son of a-” He was about to fly towards Charlotte but was stopped by V’s hand and he settled himself back down, shaking out his feathers in a miffed sort of fashion. Alexina’s lips were curved slightly, looking away from them as she hid her amusement.

“Then that is what I will take,” V nodded to Charlotte, “I appreciate you offering to take me under your wing.”

“If you’re interested in spellwork and seeing if you can turn your poems into spells, I’m totally down for helping you out there. Char does the hexes and the symbols and stuff, I’m the Latin person.” Yvette beamed proudly.

Now that did sound like an idea. It amused him that the one who seemed the brashest was the one who could speak the elegant language of Latin. “I will take that into consideration, thank you.”

Charlotte leaned back looking a little on the exhausted side all of the sudden. She could already tell that she was going to be in hell for the next few months since her sister offered Latin courses to a kid that probably could summon a demon with literally his wits alone. “You both will be the death of me. I saw my life flash before my eyes.”

Griffon cackled. “I’ll let Shortstack have that gold star, girlie.”

X

The following day, Charlotte decided that the best way to test out V was to throw him into the fire. She wasn’t literally going to toss him into a middle of a demon fight and see how he fared, that wasn’t the greatest idea. However, she was going to drag him to see how he fit in with the rest of the group and see if Nico was willing to fit him up with a weapon. A conduit or something. She doubted he could swing anything heavy. She leaned back in the driver’s seat, eyeing him from the corner. He was reading his book, but she could tell that not a single thing was not noticed.

She could already tell, this kid was the kid that teachers loathed in school. Not for his smarts, oh they’d praise that, but he’d get bored quick. He’d pick up a book and read, and not once miss a beat. “You know, your stubbornness is a treat.” She said after a moment.

“Oh?” V picked his head up and watched her curiously, “Stubborn natures are not usually praised. What sparked you to say something like that about me?”

“There’s stubborn as in stubborn idiots and then there’s stubborn as in smart. I’ve dealt with more stubborn idiots than smart ones. Believe me, you’re a breath of fresh air, V.” Charlotte smiled as she tilted her head towards him as she flipped her turn signal to turn a corner. “You watch. You listen. I bet there have been a few times where if you wanted to, you could’ve started a shit show or ended one.” She hummed under her breath. “Mind if I ask you something personal, V?”

“You may ask anything you like, but there is no guarantee I will answer,” V responded cryptically, turning his page and settling further into the seat of the car.

Charlotte grinned, seemingly pleased. “Fine, I’ll give you two questions.” Even though there was no guarantee he’d answer either of them, it still made her pleased that one of the questions he might choose over the other. “What’s your full name? I only know you as V and while that’s not a bad nickname, it’s a...very short one.”

“Indeed it is.” His lips quirked at that, not elaborating in the slightest. He gave his full name to few people. The applications for the few times he held a job and Alexina.

Charlotte’s smile widened and she let out a soft chuckle. She flipped on another turn signal. “Okay. That’s fair.” Laughter echoed in her words as her eyes crinkled with the emotion. “Your girlfriend’s hot. Nico even said it.”

V’s hand twitched on his book, and he felt his neck warm, but otherwise gave nothing away, “I half expected that to come from Yvette’s mouth, not your own. Xina is not my girlfriend, even if Griffon calls her Hathaway.”

“Familiars are jerks as in they give things away before you even get a chance to hide.” Charlotte glanced at her rearview mirror. “Vet’s a terrible influence sometimes, and admittedly talking girl last night got me all sorts of curious. Nico’s also no help in that either. Thought I’d ask first before one of them pounced on you...loudly. Believe me, you’d rather be trapped where you are than getting a massage from Yvette if she’s around.”

“I will keep that in mind.” V closed his book and set it on his lap, eyes on the area around them once he realized the surroundings were unfamiliar. “Tell me again, where we are going?”

“We’re getting you fitted,” Charlotte replied, tapping her fingers against the steering wheel. “We’re tracking down Nico and her van. I don’t want her hauling through the streets like they’re made of clay. I’m thinking they’re back at Dante’s place. If Vergil’s the stubborn idiot type I think he is, he’s there as well and if he is...I get to get upset about the wound he’s undoubtedly making angry.” She glanced at V. “Pop quiz time, V. What does the name Abaddon mean to you?”

Racking his brain, V knew he’d heard that before. It didn’t take long for him to narrow it down, “Abaddon, one of the Christian Angels of Death. Also known to be a demon. Rules over a bottomless pit, an Abyss. A destroyer. Destruction.”

He did his research. Charlotte tapped her fingers on the steering wheel again. Which meant he decided which demon to summon when he did his little ritual. “Okay. Now tell me a bit about Stolas.”

“Often depicted as an owl with a crown, or a raven,” V didn’t take as long to answer that as an image came to mind, “Known for astronomy, poison plants, and their herbs as well as precious stones. Not much is really known about him besides that.”

Charlotte nodded a few times, “He’s a plant demon with a thirst of trouble and worse his plants don’t usually have antidotes. Not ones that you can find anywhere, anyway.” She nodded her head towards the back of her car. “I’ve studied plants, that’s my shtick besides drawing sigils and paper origami spells. If you meet up with a demon that can do plants, don’t. I don’t even know how Vergil’s still alive. Stubbornness and pride I guess. I can’t blame him, I’d do the same thing. I ain’t dying to a plant. I think that’s everyone’s thought. Still. Things are getting worse from here, and if you’re gonna get in the middle of these battles, I’d rather you know. I have some of the cures. If you’re handy with plants, I can teach you how to make some of them, just in case.”

“By ‘antidotes you can’t find anywhere’ do you mean ‘common antidotes’?” V arched a brow at her. It wasn’t often he found himself around someone who would ramble away about something. Xina only did that when she was passionate about her chosen topic. “Xina ribs me for it, but I tend to keep my room as dark as possible. Blackout curtains and the like. So I don’t usually keep plants alive.”

“I’ll give you some extras then. Bottles I mean.” Charlotte grimaced. “Words and I aren’t..uh...good with each other.” She smiled thinly. “I’m the one that graduated high school, too, let that sink. We’re here.”

Eyeballing the building V slowly got out of the car and took a good hard long look at it. Committing it to memory would be a good idea, as he felt he would be coming around here quite often in the future to come. Right in front of them was an arched roof over the porch, double doors that were certainly worn in. In fact, the whole building looked worn down as if they were in the slums of Redgrave city, but V knew they were only in one of the several residential areas. Attached to the roof was a clear neon sign with cursive letters loudly screaming "Devil May Cry" and a man at the end with a gun pointed towards the capital D, a full-body sword on his back. “Should I be concerned?” V couldn’t help asking.

“The only thing you gotta worry about, Shakespeare, is keeping your head on straight.” Griffon appeared on V’s shoulder, peering at the building. “Nothing in there’s gonna bite ya, and there’s no shame in running away. You can always run away if you have to.”

“Never thought I’d hear the day a demon told someone to run away and mean it kindly.” Charlotte mused as she came out from the rear seats, carrying a stick of metal. “Come on. Dante’s kind enough and Griffon’s right. No one’s in there looking at you for a fight. If anything, they’re gonna be curious about you as you are them.” She gently patted V’s back.

As soon as they walked through the doors, V heard the wooden floorboards creak beneath his sandaled feet, and when he looked up from being startled by it he was greeted by an interesting sight. Two red couches to his left underneath the stairway were filled with people, the desk straight ahead of him had a man with shocking silver-white hair sitting in it, and they were all watching a familiar short woman with a trash bag in hand muttering to herself as she busied around like a bumblebee.

Before he or Charlotte could say anything, a voice at the top of the stairs caused him to look up. “Why is Yvette cleaning your place by herself, Dante?” He looked like the man behind the desk with his hair too wet to form a shape, only he wore shades of blue instead of shades of red.

V was the one to answer him, “It seems to me she’s the type of person to not allow anyone in her way.”

Charlotte was impressed. Five seconds in the door and he already called out her sister. Then again, it was probably cheating since they already met yesterday. The other boy on the couch looked over at them, his silver hair much shorter and wearing a royal blue hoodie spoke up. “Who’s the MCR knock off?”

Nico, on the other hand, was already leaping to her feet and heading towards Charlotte. “Is that what I think you got in yer hands there, Lotty?”

Charlotte’s instant response was to hold it up over her head, despite that, both girls were the same height if Charlotte wasn’t a tiny bit taller. “Uh-huh. I got rules for this one, Nico. Nothing flashy, something practical, and can be used in a fight.”

“Seriously? Yer gonna make me go borin’ with that piece of equipment?” Nico folded her arms over her chest. “Do you know how awesome I can make that thing? It’d be a work of art.”

“It’s not for me. It’s a gift.” Charlotte bargained. “Triple your usual rate. Unless...this isn’t a challenge at all for you Nico.”

“Give me that.” Nico jumped up and snatched it out of Charlotte’s hands. “Wow. I can’t believe I’m actually holding this...who's it for?”

Charlotte merely tilted her head and Nico looked right over at V. Her eyes looked all over him for a moment and then noted, “You must be Lexi’s boy.”

Griffon cackled. “Looks like they all got you pegged, pretty boy.”

Dante even glanced up at the bird’s voice. He didn’t have to look over at the stairs to know that Vergil probably shifted uncomfortably. The familiar looked….well...familiar. He looked back at Charlotte. “I didn’t shove her into doing this. She-”

“I VOLUNTEERED AS TRIBUTE!” Yvette screamed towards Charlotte, “You should’ve seen this place, Char! Horrible! You would’ve cried!”

Charlotte did a whistle as she held three fingers solemnly towards her sister and turned to Dante. “Next time instead of sacrificing my sister to the Hunger Games, rent yourself a wife.”

“I volunteer for that, too.” Yvette chirped and Vergil scoffed up above.

Dante shrugged, a smirk playing at his lips. “I didn’t do anything. She’s the one that went Tohru Honda on me. I barely said a word, let alone told her to do anything. I offered to help, but V called it.”

“Oh my fucking god, nerds. The lot of you.” Charlotte deadpanned, her attention turned towards Vergil. “How did my handiwork come out?”

“After a certain point,” Vergil put the towel he’d been using to dry his hair around his neck, “My demon healing took over. My back isn’t completely healed over, but it will be by tomorrow.” He wasn’t about to say that avoiding itching it had been a nightmare.

Nero noticed that V was gluing himself to the corner of the room, watching them. Griffon was steady on his shoulder, beady golden eyes also surveying the room as they took in the different interactions. He had a book under his arm, but Nero wouldn’t be at all surprised to look back at him and see his nose stuck in it. Nico’s question also went avoided. Either she was wrong and he didn’t know who Lexi was, or this kid didn’t know why Nico knew.

Charlotte did tell them that they had met him and that she wanted to see everyone’s reactions to him. Nero didn’t feel anything towards him, but that demon on his shoulder certainly gave him pause. He didn’t miss the look Dante made as he glanced over it. Carefully Nero stood up. He didn’t know why, but V reminded him of one of the shy orphans he sometimes ran into when Kyrie was working.

They were the ones that saw more than people wanted to admit. More ghosts in their closets and skeletons. The way V was watching him approach was much like how someone would watch a predator walk up to them. Assessing every move and every word before speaking. Like there was a game behind it. Nero didn’t do well with those kinds of games. All they told him was that the kid got hurt.

It sucked that this goth kid also looked like he was in a world of hurt. He noticed the necklace instantly. Same one the girl wore. The tattoos that were swirling in complicated and ornate designs were a little faded. Mostly around his arm that Griffon was perched on.

“Seeing something you like?” Griffon taunted Nero.

Nero instantly was reminded how he greeted his father and he tilted his head at the bird. “A talking bird.” He pretended to be impressed. “That’s a hell of a party trick you got there. I’m Nero. Who are you?”

“If you would like to see a party trick, I can certainly provide. You may call me V.” His olive green eyes crinkled a bit at the corners as a smirk tried to worm its way onto his face.

“V, huh?” Nero clicked his tongue. Playing the mystery route. He supposed he couldn’t blame the kid. Well, he was probably older than him. “This isn’t your only one?” He rapped his fingers towards Griffon.

“Ooh, someone wants to play.” Griffon trilled. “Don’t think you can handle us, little bug.”

Nero raised an eyebrow, “Was that the best you could come up with, Chicken?”

Charlotte made a soft noise in the background.

“First Charlotte wove her web and now you wish to irritate Griffon,” V was amused, and he forced himself to tear away from staring at Nero’s lovely blue eyes to address Dante, “I assume demons are a common sight around here?”

“I don’t think Lotty’s gonna win you any spelling bees. Also, you’re talkin’ to a quarter.” Nero pointed at Nico. “The only thing that’s demonic about her is her weapons.”

“Ain’t that the gospel truth,” Nico called from over her shoulder as she was heading back to her van. “I got a commission, so you boys have fun. Tell Lexi I said hi, V. She’s something fierce.”

“Shut up, Nico!” Nero rolled his eyes. “Honestly. It’s like she doesn’t get it.”

Dante watched the exchange with a furrowed brow and he leaned back. “The only thing that’s not so common to see is you, V, but Nero’s on track. I’m a half-demon. So is tall and brooding up there on the stairs. Everyone else around you is human. Well. As human as they get.”

“I was referring to more...unusual sights,” he glanced at Griffon but continued his smirk at Nero and patted his shoulder as he went by, “Outside.” He didn’t say anything else, going back for the door. He had been itching for a safe place to release his third, and if Nero wished for a party trick, then this was the perfect opportunity.

Silence. Nero was the first to shrug it off and head outside. Charlotte also decided to go, mostly out of curiosity and to see what this “party trick” was going to consist of. She was pretty sure her sister and Dante weren’t far off. Nico wouldn’t give a damn unless she saw it from her van. Vergil was also up in the air, but she could presume he followed if to confirm whatever suspicions he had.

Plenty of space was a wonderful start. V also wasn’t too concerned that it was daylight, as it meant people were more than likely at work and wouldn’t stare out their windows at the ruckus. It wouldn’t be for long, either, he had nothing for it to attack, but he could not deny he was eager. In all reality, this would be the first time he saw Nightmare the same as everyone else. Griffon had only told him of it.

Turning around, V decided to start off the show with shrugging Griffon off his shoulder and then flourished his arm out towards the group, his tattoos breaking off in particles and swirling before Shadow roared and pounced on the ground, shaking herself off from being cooped up.

“That’s two,” Charlotte muttered under her breath.

Nero had a feeling there was more to this. Like there was tension that started to crackle in the air. Anticipation made his blood roar in his ears like he was getting ready for a fight, even though there wasn’t one to be had. “Come on.” He grinned ferally. “That cat’s not everything you got.” He called out towards V. “Don’t hold back on us. This party’s just getting started.”

Something in Nero’s grin made V feel lively, and the smirk turned into a genuine smile. As he raised his arm slowly above his head he spoke, “‘He who kisses the joy as it flies, lives in eternity's sunrise’.” A snap. An explosion of black particles. The cool rush through V’s body that replaced the near-constant prickling made V close his eyes in blissful relief.

Nero wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but there were two surprises. One: V’s hair was suddenly stark white. It almost made Nero take a step back in surprise. A quarter demon like himself? Yet, he made a deal with a demon so...that wasn’t possible. The second thing was how large this familiar was. Stocky, like it was made of nothing but stone, but it’s body pulsed and swirled with dark energy and matter. As though it was created from it. A large purple eye was glowing in the middle of where the head should’ve gone. It was deep inside of the shoulder and it barely made any noise. Nero could…get this feeling this creature was confused. Who did it attack?

“Goddamn.” Nero whistled. “You certainly weren’t kidding when you said that you can do tricks.”

Charlotte pursed her lips together. Three. Everything came in three. “This kid.” She muttered fondly. “Is going to be the death of someone, I swear.”

V was absolutely in awe of the massive creature in front of him when he turned to look at it. He felt it’s confusion and he subconsciously hushed it, reaching out and laying his hand on what looked like a rocky arm. Coarse. Warm. He was fascinated and glanced up, examining the purple eye. Having Nightmare out was such a rush but he smiled ruefully, knowing it couldn’t last. Patting it, he allowed it to return since it had nothing to do. “That…” he released a long breath and turned back towards Nero, “Was Nightmare.” He motioned to the panther with glowing red designs on her fur, “Shadow.”

“It looked like one.” Nero quipped as Shadow paced herself in front of V before weaving around his legs. Nero could tell that the familiars were attached. Extremely attached. He didn’t doubt that if any of them made a move against V, they’d be in a world of hurt. Especially after Nightmare’s little show and tell. “You look like you’re halfway between passing out and in pain.”

“My, you are quite astute,” V placed his hand over his chest, taking a deep breath as the prickling pain was settling down. It wasn’t nearly so bad with Shadow out, and really he was grateful Alexina enjoyed his panther familiar so she could be out more often. “I am more...dizzy from relief. It has been nearly four months and Nightmare has never been out.”

Nero frowned. There was a question on the tip of his tongue, but he had a feeling asking it would only lead him in circles. “Let’s go back inside, and you can stop hogging the corner. Just in case someone else wants to pretend that it’s the corner of invisibility. You only make me feel bad.”

“You joke like your Uncle,” Vergil sighed, making his presence known.

“It means he has a good sense of humor. Don’t knock it because you don’t,” Dante teased.

V watched as Yvette, who was holding the door open, giggled madly at the exchange. Shaking his head, he stroked the top of Shadow’s head and followed everyone back inside. Though he did pause and look at Charlotte, “What are your thoughts now?”

“My thoughts are that you are a fucking terrifying person,” Charlotte said bluntly. “And how you haven’t been a target lately changed. Someone’s bound to feel that, and take it as a challenge.”

“Well now. That’s good. Business was getting slow, thought the demons finally got bored.” Dante swung his arms back and forth. “Prepare for the worst like the Abaddon fellow. And that Stolas. You and I got a score to settle with him later.”

Charlotte wasn’t sure if rolling her eyes would mean anything, but she did so anyway.

“That is another reason why Charlotte brought me here.” V explained once they were all inside and heading for the couches, “My familiars can protect Xina and I, but I have no training.”

It hit close to home. Nero felt like the world suddenly was showing him a mirror. He thought of Kyrie back at the orphanage that she was working at. They were far enough that any demon could take her at any moment. She took self-defense because Credo and Nero couldn’t stand the thought of her getting hurt, but anyone could be taken off guard. It only took one. One second. One moment.

Nero already knew that if his Uncle or his father didn’t, he would. “Fuck.” Nero hissed after a moment, throwing himself down to the couch, crossing his legs in midair. “I’m doing it.”

“Whoa-oh. Hotshot thinks he can teach us new tricks, huh?” Griffon leered. “What makes you our number one pick of the week?”

V held his hand to Griffon, watching Nero intently.

There were millions of reasons that Nero obviously shouldn’t take him on. Life experience, not a witch, had no idea how to do anything with familiars, weapon variety, fighting styles, there were plenty of reasons not to. Instead, Nero looked at V square in the eye. At the same time, there were reasons to help.

Nero eyed Griffon and instead of addressing V, addressed the bird. “Number one pick of the year.” He pointed out before turning his attention to V. “Because of anyone in this fucking place knows anything about what you’re going through. It’s me and my father, and my father’s injured and while he can recover in a day, I’m sitting right here. I don’t got a lot under my belt, that’s true, but I got enough to get you back to Lex safe. I got enough to help you protect her because I know that if one drop of blood leaves her, you’re guilt-ridden for a month.”

An inhale and V gingerly touched the tooth necklace. He had made a guess, but that confirmed it. “‘The people who consider you weak have not yet noticed the wolf hiding behind your eyes, nor the flames inside your soul’.” The poem fell from him without any trouble at all, “I accept your offer, Nero. We should perhaps talk next about places to train. Keeping my energy flares as far away from her as possible would be ideal. You understand.”

“Yeah.” Nero did understand. He turned towards Dante who was watching them with a complicated expression. He didn’t bother to question it. “You good with us using your back yard ol’ man?”

Dante rolled his eyes, “Sure thing, whippersnapper.”

Yvette cracked up in the background.

Nero paled, he forgot that Dante wasn’t one to lay down and take it, “No wait-”

“You kids can be on my lawn if you need to,” he continued, as though Nero didn’t say a word.

“Oh my god-” Nero wanted to fucking die.

“I’ll toss a newspaper at you every once a while,” Dante’s grin was feral as Nero looked completely done with this conversation, “Vergil do you remember back in the good ol’ day-”

“OH MY FUCKING GOD PLEASE!” Nero threw a pillow at Dante and wasn’t at all surprised that it was caught. “I get the MESSAGE!”

Vergil pinched the bridge of his nose as he listened to Yvette wheezing, her cleaning tirade completely halted as she stopped to laugh to death, “At least someone enjoys your jokes.”

Charlotte pursed her lips together, “I vaguely find myself in between horror and amusement because I suddenly can feel my age.”

“You are not-” Nero rounded onto Charlotte. “Following his line.”

“Oh please, I have enough confidence in myself to not embarrass you to death.” Nero looked relieved for five seconds. “I’ll do that to you on the battlefield.”

Yvette pointed at Charlotte from her position leaning on the wall, “She will roast people on the field!”

Griffon trilled, “Not unless I shock them first, shortstack.”

V shook his head, “Not that sort of roasting. I understand the reference.” He chuckled when Yvette chirped a ‘yay’.

“Nerds.” Charlotte deadpanned. “Violent nerds. All of you. I thought you people were supposed to be sweet. Goddamn.”

“You went to the wrong school,” Nero retorted.

“I must have. Fuck me.”

“Well, we got that all straightened out and taken care of.” Dante looked pleased. “If you need any help Nero, we got you covered.” He turned towards Charlotte. “You keeping an eye out?”

“So far nothing.” Charlotte shrugged. “Either they’re cowards, or this is gonna bring them out of hiding.”

“Then we’ll see you sometime later.” Dante turned to V. “You know that’s a good question. How are you going to sneak out on your girl anyway? It’s rude to leave her hanging.”

“There is no sneaking involved. Xina was the one who suggested I take their advice in the first place. Their advice was training. So here I am.” V leaned back, getting more comfortable.

“She has a good head on her shoulders.” Nero looked at V. “I’m glad to know you two aren’t the types to not tell each other shit. I can already tell you how bad that can go down.”

“Yeah yeah, dramatic effect, near death love confessions. Not that won’t happen an-” Griffon was cut off.

Yvette was quite surprised when V was not the one to silence his familiar, but it was Vergil standing abruptly that caught everyone’s attention.

“Secrets between lovers leads to death.” The hiss was cutting and the words dripped acid, but if they were aimed at anyone it was himself. Vergil turned on his heel and his strides were long and swift towards the door, snatching his coat from the hooks, “I am going out.” Was his only explanation before the door clicked shut behind him.

The silence was uncomfortable, but no one had the heart to refute it. Not even Griffon for all the wise-cracks that he made. Charlotte stared at the door, her expression complicated. Only for a moment before she finally decided to also leave. Either to follow him or to get away from the silence was beyond them.

Shadow, on the other hand, seemed to have an idea. She leaped on the couch and draped herself over Nero’s legs, stretching herself as long as she possibly could before melting against his lap.

“I didn’t realize I was destined to be a demon pillow,” Nero said dryly but gingerly ran his hand through her fur. It was...shocking at how soft the fur was and the energy that crackled underneath her. It wasn’t painful, not at all, but it most definitely reminded him that she was more than a panther. “Good girl.” He muttered under his breath as she purred louder. “I think I’m stuck.” He admitted.

Dante huffed a laugh before walking out of the room. “Need me to haul those out for you, Yeti?” He asked, pointing at the trash bags she had collected.

“Don’t call me that,” Yvette muttered even as a smile played at her lips and she tied off the one in her hands, all of the trash picked up by now, “Sure, you can show me where the bins are.”

V listened as the two made their way to do their own thing, and he crossed his ankles in front of him as he arched a brow at Nero with Shadow. They were left alone now. “She likes you.” He decided to start off.

“Never thought of myself as a cat person. Dog person sure, but cats? Never really had a chance to go up against one.” Nero said as he rubbed Shadow’s ears and she headbutted his hand to get him to rub more. “She’s a lovebug, isn’t she? All that affection. It’s like you and Lex don’t spoil her, and I know better than that.”

“I’ve heard plenty of people say they don’t like cats because they are evil or something of the sort,” V waved his hand dismissively, “I prefer cats over dogs myself. Our apartment doesn’t allow pets, but since this is...awfully convenient,” he traced over his own tattoos, a mischievous little smile on his face this time, “Xina has been extremely pleased she gets to have Shadow who’s the size of a dog but a giant ball of love.”

“What am I, chopped liver?” Griffon pouted. “You make it sound like Hathaway holds no love for me V. Rude. I get the feather scratches.”

At that, V actually laughed and he reached his hand up, scratching under Griffon’s chin, “Indeed you do.”

Nero’s lips curved into a smirk. “Lex has a soft spot for animals and she adores you because you can talk.”

“That is not my only shtick hotshot.” Griffon stuck his neck out further for V to scratch. “I am an extremely good wingman too. They’re stubborn.”

Chuckling again, V continued to scratch Griffon absently and looked to Nero’s demonic arm. He hadn’t a chance to really take it in, “If you use your claws I’m sure Shadow will adore you.”

“You mean my nails or…” Nero trailed off as he looked at his demon arm. It had been a while since he had a stranger look at it. Kyrie hadn’t minded, which had been a fucking surprise to him. For V to point it out, he wasn’t sure how to feel about it. He switched hands but was careful for it, just in case Shadow didn’t like it. As he gently used his nails to scratch Shadow, he was pleasantly surprised when he saw a tiny hint of tongue stick out. Well now. There was a pause. “Pretty terrifying looking isn’t it.”

“Your arm? I don’t think so at all.” V shook his head, resting his hands in his lap and watching Nero with interest, “Though I will say I am confused why you have that and neither Dante nor Vergil do. Is it because you are a quarter?”

“I think so.” Nero shrugged. “My theory is that both Dante and pops can do a Devil Trigger and go full demon. Since I’m a quarter, I don’t think I have that ability and this is kinda...you know...the only reminder I got that says ‘yeah you got demon blood in you’.” He shifted his weight carefully underneath Shadow. The familiar was pretty freaking heavy, but he wasn’t about to push the cat aside yet. “It happened when I got injured a long time ago. It’s...it’s a hard story. That’s why I get it when you said you wanted to protect Lex. I couldn’t protect Kyrie. Almost lost her. It took a long time to get over it, we still wake each other up sometimes with nightmares about it, but...the orphanage keeps us busy...and demon hunting most definitely keeps me busy. Yet the reminders are still there. She used to sing for the Order. One of the best singers. You’d get along with her famously I think.”

“I would enjoy meeting her.” V nodded. He said her name with honey-sweet affection and it warmed his heart. “Xina isn’t my girlfriend, but maybe someday. That’s a secret you get to know. My name is also Vitale.” He ignored Griffon’s squawk and how Shadow twitched her ear. “I don’t tell many people that.”

“Yeah, Lex was pretty secretive about your identity as well. Pulled out all the stops to make sure she didn’t even say V.” Nero watched him for a moment. “She said to me that she was sick when you made the deal.” He paused in scratching Shadow’s fur. “Was she really near death or was that you jumping to conclusions?”

V licked his lips and took a deep breath, “I prayed to the Gods first, for a miracle. I knew if I made a deal with the devil it had to be because there was no other way. So that is what I did. The night I made the decision...she wouldn’t have made it to see her favorite thing. The sunrise.”

Nero let out a slow long breath. Griffon was even oddly quiet about it. Solemn. “You’re an interesting guy, V.”

[justanotherdumpingground]

Chapter Reviews: June 18-22, 2019 + Plan for TRH

Wishful thinking Chapter 11:

Dang, things have gotten more tense because of Charlie forcing the MC to accept a bribe to pay for her dad's medical bills in order to silence her. What's really crazy is that Anna coincidentally arrived at the hospital after Charlie left.

Ouch at the MC losing her telepathy. And even more so when Aubrey said he wished she would say something to make him feel better. Honestly, what is wrong with this selfish moron? The MC's dad just got hospitalized, which is causing her stress, and that is what he said? If he wants to feel better, then he sould've just go back to reading his explicit books for all I care. At least Jaime and Anna are more supportive.

Well, hello there, Ellen. I know we'll have to work with you to take Charlie down. Sure she's no saint, but there's no denying that she's up to something, and she has made valid points. Not to mention that she mentioned working on an environmental piece, which foreshadows this whole shebang. Considering it a situation where the enemy of my enemy is my friend, though the MC and Ellen are still far from friendly to each other.

Nightbound Chapter 10:

The fight against zombies was pretty intense as far as I'm concerned. I'm glad everyone, MC included, put up a good fight. Even better was when I picked the premium option to sound the horn and summon a giant alligator to fight the zombies. The real and pleasant surprise is that the alligator AKA Chompers is surprisingly friendly towards the MC. I hope to see it again.

I kinda didn't expect the bloodwraith summoner to be revealed in the middle, mainly because I thought it would be revealed near the end. Anyway, I find Cassiopeia and Thomas intriguing characters. Cass was undoubtedly used by Thomas, who exploited her desperation for companionship stemming from childhood. That didn't excuse her actions, but it ensures that her actions and motivations make sense. Likewise, Thomas's hatred of the supernatural coming from their perceived abuse of power shows how one can go great lengths in response to perceived injustices. Definitely captured my whole interest.

I'm looking forward to see how the meeting with Lord Elric goes as well as his monster tear. What if he has secrets to share for the MC?

Passport to Romance Chapter 15:

I feel like I'm not shown much of London aside from the Tower Bridge and a few food the main cast at, but I never saw any pictures of. Just shows how this book fails to immerse me in terms of both plot and decisions. I don't even pick the option to help Marisa call Tristao out, for instance.

Honestly, what is up with William suddenly promoting Elliot to a top spot in the family company? At least there's a board member who objected to it because she knows Elliot is unqualified for the job. I mean, all he does is mooch off of the family money as he travels around the world.

At first, it seems like the main cast finally gets a taste of what it feels like to not having enough money to keep up with their blog, but because of this story, they finally find a way to do it *cough*Elliot*cough*. And not to mention Yvette's right to be angry at the MC's ungrateful behavior for their unprofessional behavior.

Honestly, it's good riddance that this story's a standalone. I was okay with it for the first few chapters, but nothing really interesting happened, and my interest gradually decreased. There really should've been conflict in this story aside from the MC's struggle with maintaining their blog's integrity amidst Yvette's demands, but even then it has little effect on the story. Not to mention that the main cast isn't that great except Sumire, who's ultimately wasted potential because she doesn't even have a subplot nor any conflict with anyone.

Platinum Chapter 5:

When Ellis Knight said he's providing the MC the best apartment for her, I was expecting a recycled background art of Adrian Raines's luxurious suite, not Nadia Park's apartment. Oh well. At least Platinum MC's rise to fame is less easier than I thought. Yet at the same time, I need to keep an eye on Ellis because he might pose a threat in the next book if this story turns out to be a success.

Anyway, I like Zadie, Ozone, Luna, and Wade already. The clothes Zadie provides to the MC are beautiful, and I look forward to work with the other three.

I'm still uninterested in the romance aspect. Sure it's nice to have friends among famous singers like Avery and Raleigh, but as I've said earlier, I'm burnt out on the romance aspect that I just need to shift my focus away from it. That hasn't stopped me from feeling cautious on the potential scandal my MC just got herself into with Raleigh, however.

Red Carpet Diaries Chapter 3:

Why are we using Chazz's vision instead of coming up with my own? And why does he suggest cutting out an important female lead? As a player, I barely know about this Secret of Ninradell crap, yet the narrative doesn't allow me to know what it's all about. At least he's right about not every movie having to be romance. This should apply to most, if not all, Choices stories, even if getting rid of Byrony would ruin the movie.

Meeting with Marianne was okay, though it was also weird that she also suggested getting rid of Byrony. I seriously think she shoehorned the romance aspect of her book. At least the MC has the rights to the movie.

Premium scenes with Hunt and Matt? No thanks. I'm interested in neither, not to mention that I've chosen to be exclusive with Victoria.

The Elementalists Chapter 11:

It was nice and relaxing to spend time with Shreya and learn more about her family. I admire her and Nehal's ambition, and I wish her luck in her achevements.

I picked the premium outfit but not the hair because I love the former and feel eh about the latter. It doesn't do much aside from compliments, but I still love the outfit. Anyway, it was fairly easy to get Kavya's support despite the chaos that was about to follow. And I finally get answers from Greygarden Waithe. Man, I can't wait to see how this mystery unravels.

Bloodbound Chapter 6:

Dang, that was a mind-blowing chapter! Seeing Gaius fight against the council member easily grabbed my full attention. Every time Adrian and Kamilah seemed to have an upper hand, he easily showed them he isn't to be trifled with. Thank goodness they, along with the MC and Jax made it out safely.

Oh, of course Priya is in cahoots with Gaius. I never liked her since I first played Bloodbound, and. Sure she's a cunning villain, but she's also really psychopathic, selfish, and egotistical. Can't wait to bring her down to a peg like I did with Nicole.

Pity I couldn't afford to go after Jameson and determine his fate. This premium option is definitely on my to-pick list.

Man, Lester's death recorded live and used to persuade vampires to join his cause or die sets the tone for darker things to come. My guess is that Clans Raines, Sayeed, and Matsuo will oppose him while the other three will join him. Regarding Lester, he's starting to remind me of Jocelyn Wu in some ways. Sure they're unsavory people, but they set their priorities straight. In Jocelyn's case, she may be a bully, but she knows the moss creatures Redfield unleashed are a true threat compared to her targets. In Lester's case, he knows the feral problem and Gaius are bigger threats to his power than some clanless upstart like Jax. He's someone I have a begrudging respect for.

Anyone upset that Kamilah and Lily are sidelined for now in favor of Adrian and Jax? A part of me thinks Lily should've gone instead of Jax because of her technological expertise that might come in handy. As for this Seraphine lady, I'll see whether she's friend or foe.

On The Royal Heir:

For The Royal Heir, I've decided not to write reviews on this. Instead, I'm writing something like annals that embellish the MC's journey. Stay tuned for them.

[andromedas1x1]

I’ll Be There

waylonweston‌:

yvetteweston‌:

OOC Note: There are a fair few triggers in this, all of which are tagged, please be careful!

To say Yvette was uncomfortable would be an understatement. Ever since first treating the man’s friend a few days ago he had been staring, making lewd comments, anything that he seemed to consider as flirting. It didn’t matter that she had a wedding ring on her finger, it didn’t matter that she had cut him down at every chance he got, the man was persistent, it was almost as if he enjoyed the chase. She felt as if she had a warning system built in, her hairs standing on end as soon as he would round a corner from visiting his friend to search for her.

He was staring again, she could feel it as she finished writing in her report outside one of the more permanent resident’s rooms. But as a shiver traced its way down her spine she realised something, he wasn’t just watching her, he was getting closer. She had never been particularly good with dealing with creepy people, not one for any type of confrontation if she could help it, and with no coworkers around to help her, her anxiety was growing steadily at the thought of him getting closer.

The feel of a hand on her shoulder caught her attention quickly, and before she could even complete her gulp at his touch, he had spun her around to face him with far more strength than necessary. With forced civility, Yvette attempted her usual fake smile that she gave to the more troublesome patients.

“Was there something you wanted Mr-” but Yvette didn’t get a chance to finish her question. Before she could even think of his name he had moved, forcing her forwards until her back hit the wall, his body practically crushing her against it. A flash of her first kiss with Waylon raced into her mind, but as quickly as it had come it was gone as the man’s lips forced themselves roughly against her own. 

Her hands rushed forwards, trying to push him off of her, but his hands simply grabbed at her wrists, stopping her attempt easily. Barely pulling his lips away from her, his breath still exhaling onto her lips as she desperately tried to figure out a way she could get her hand on her wand and stun the man away from her. “Stop pretending you don’t like it,” he spoke gruffly, a smirk on his face as he looked down at her. “I’ve seen you with other guys, you like being told what to do.”

Waylon smiled tightly at the nurse at the station, opening his mouth to ask where Yvette was, but before he could say a word, she had pointed to the right with a knowing smile and he nodded, moving on. He was late - he had wanted to surprise her with lunch, but the day had gotten away from him and now it was closer to dinner. But he came to see her anyway, knowing she had had to work late most nights this week, and he was growing even more moody than usual not being able to spend as much time with her.

When he rounded the corner, his steps stopped short. She was kissing another man, right there in the hallway. Just as she had kissed him, years prior. But Yvette wouldn’t do that, something was wrong. He was kissing her. In an instant, Waylon was seeing red - angrier than he could ever remember being. His fists curled at his sides as he started again, lengthening his stride to get to them. He was intending to control himself, simply pull the man off of her and tell him to never come back.

But then she tried to push him away, and he pinned her down. Waylon grew angrier. When he spoke, his words flamed his anger even further, and without really planning on it, his fist connected with the side of his face as soon as he was close enough - putting enough force behind it to drop the man to the floor. He paused, turning to his wife, his eyes darting between hers, glare softening for just a moment as he made sure she was okay. He touched her cheek gently before he turned back to the man on the floor, grabbing him by the back of the collar and dragging him roughly into a sitting position. Waylon shoved him against the wall, hard, ignoring the way he sputtered and crouching down in front of him. “I believe she made it quite clear that your advances are not welcome.”

A rush of emotions swelled through Yvette in a matter of seconds, relief, anxiety, fear, and an abundance of something else she was quite certain wasn’t appropriate at that moment. The moment the man fell from in front of her she let out a breath she hadn’t realised she had been holding in, her entire body shaking as her fears let lose. But the moment she took in the sight of her husband standing there, a fury she had never seen blazing in his eyes, she found herself caught between two very different feelings. She was safe, she knew that. Waylon would never let any harm come to her, would protect her to the very end. But did he know what had happened? Would he blame her? Think she had allowed the creep to make advances, let alone kiss her? 

Filled with a guilt that she simply couldn’t get rid of, she found herself backing up into the wall once more, somehow more afraid of the potential blame than the man on the ground before her. But a simple touch drew her from her thoughts and she unintentionally found herself wanting to shirk away from it, certain she didn’t deserve the tenderness of her husband’s touch, mind whirling with thoughts of how she ought to have fought harder to get the man away from her. But he didn’t seem angry with her. His touch was so gentle, so different from the force that had punched the man away from her, from the way he grabbed at the man’s collar and dragged him towards the wall; causing her to quickly jump away from it and move behind him.

But then she heard his words, relief took over once more and she allowed that terrible feeling that had crept up on her to slip through as she took a single second to appreciate the possessive and protective way her husband was protecting her. But it couldn’t continue, no matter how attractive it was. If he got kicked out of the hospital by the security wizards, where ever the hell they were, he might not be allowed back, and she wasn’t willing to risk that. 

With a hesitant step forwards she carefully reached forwards until her hand touched his shoulder in a feather light attempt to draw his attention back to her. “Waylon,” her voice cracked with emotion, still not ready to let her guilt leave her. “We should go.”