#but my mother just said that she almost wants to assume only the air cleaners would b enough and we can have Christmas dinner without masks.

[mosspapi]

How do I politely explain to my parents, without getting my shit kicked in, that it seems like they took Covid more seriously back in 2021 when no one in our house had left it for over a year than they're taking it now despite the fact that they know someone is actively contagious with it in their home, and that their holiday plans are not more important than the fact that 2/3 of their children are immunocompromised and the other 1/3 is actively sick with one of the biggest diseases we've had in years.

[kcarreras]

I Wanna Be Yours

Fandom: Outer Banks Pairing: JJ Maybank & Kiara Carrera Summary: It’s been a week since the Pogues arrived back in Kildare, after almost a month stranded on the island. Separated from her friends and under house arrest from her parents, JJ and Kie are finally reunited and forced to confront the consequences their time on the island has had on their relationship... Notes: This one is for @soldatstylesmaybank for hyping me up in her tags - I hope you like it! ❤️

The Pogues had been back in Kildare County for a week now. 

Seven whole days since she’d last seen her friends - last seen him - on the dock after their ferry arrived back from the mainland.

Her parents had been waiting, and were on top of her almost instantly - hugging and smothering her as they led her to the back of her mom’s SUV without so much as a chance to say goodbye.

Since then, her parents had been monitoring her every move to the point she felt like she was under house arrest, and maybe she was.

She’d wake up in the mornings to her mom pulling open her curtains, sunlight flooding the room and rousing her from her sleep, pretending she was there to collect laundry... at 6am.

Her dad would check in with her at night before going to bed, pretending he was only stopping in to say goodnight, but really his motive was the same as her mom’s - he wanted to make sure she was still there.

Her homework was being dropped off at the house by her school guidance counsellor at the request of her parents, after they claimed she needed time to ‘adjust’ to being back. Really, they just didn’t want her having the opportunity to sneak off somewhere - or with someone - she shouldn’t be.

After five days of constant supervision and being on her best behaviour, she convinced them that she should at least be allowed to leave the house for work. Her dad finally agreed that she could cover some shifts at the Wreck, as long as he was there.

It wasn’t ideal, but she’d take what she could get at this point.

The next day was a quiet Sunday in late October, and with little tourists left in the area and the locals at home out of the way of the wind and rain that was rolling in from the coast, the Wreck was empty. 

It was a little after 7pm when her dad made the decision to close early and send the other staff home. Once the last of the servers had left, he flipped the “OPEN” sign that hung in the door to “CLOSED”, and they began to clear up. 

About 20 minutes later his cell rang, and it was Anna. Her tyre had blown out and she was stranded at the side of the road, a few miles out of town. Due to the weather, the roadside recovery company hadn’t been able to give her an estimated arrival time beyond “a few hours”, and so Mike said he’d go and pick her up. 

At first he wanted Kiara to come with him, but she made a strong case for the fact that there was no use in both of them sitting in the car doing nothing for the whole journey there and back, when she could be here cleaning and boarding up the restaurant in case the weather worsened. Her father’s resolve was a lot weaker than her mother’s, who would have dragged her along anyway, and so he agreed.

He gave her the same lecture he always did when she worked a closing shift - make sure all the stoves are off, double-check the storm shutters are latched properly and don’t forget to turn all the lights off. She even jangled her keys in front of him, promising to remember to lock the door on her way out, and that she’d head straight home when she was done. 

Her dad eventually left, and she locked the door behind him before heading into the cleaning closet to grab the mop and bucket.

Her dad had only been gone a few minutes when she heard the rap of knuckles against the door. Assuming he’d forgotten his keys or wallet, she huffed, dropping the mop back into the bucket - now full of hot water and citrus-scented floor cleaner - and headed to the door.

“I swear, Dad, you’d forget your own head if it wasn’t-“ she began, but as she rounded the corner, the air was knocked out of her lungs.

It was JJ. 

He was standing in front of the glass door, hands buried deep in his pockets, shoulders shrugged up to his ears and his hood pulled over his head as the rain hammered down on top of him, dripping from the ends of his blonde hair that stuck out from under his hood and clung to his forehead.

“Shit,” Kie breathed out under her breath, subconsciously running her hands across her apron, smoothing it out across her thighs.

When she didn’t move immediately, JJ raised an eyebrow at her.

“Is there a secret password or some shit I don’t know about?”

His voice was muffled through the door, but she could still hear the humour in it.

When she still didn’t move, he spoke again, a little more serious this time.

“Seriously, Kie? Let me in, I’m freezing my ass off out here.”

She wanted to roll her eyes at the exaggeration, but he was only wearing a pair of long, dark boardshorts that hung to his knees and a washed-out, grey t-shirt with a flimsy navy jacket lying open over top - all of which was clinging to him like a second skin from the rain.

Normally she’d give him stick for being so inappropriately dressed for the weather, but she herself was wearing a pair of light-wash denim shorts and a lemon-coloured vest top with thin spaghetti straps, so she really had no room to judge.

She took another breath, bracing herself as she made her way across the wooden floor, boards creaking beneath her sneakers with every step. She knew the noise would be echoing around the empty restaurant, loud and obnoxious, but she couldn’t hear it over the sound of blood rushing in her ears.

She turned the key that was still in the lock and the door all but blew open into her as JJ tumbled in out of the elements.

“Finally, what took so long?” He asked, pulling his hood down and shaking his head like a wet dog, rain spraying from his dishevelled blonde head.

“Wow, JJ. Really?” Kie complained, stepping back out of his vicinity and wiping splashes off the bare skin of her arms.

When he finally lifted his head to look at her, he smiled, and something inside of her chest cracked open, and she felt some of her previous apprehension leave her body.

“Long time, no see,” he drawled sarcastically.

“Yeah. I almost forgot what you looked like,” she replied back in a similar tone, throwing the clean rag she was holding at him with a grin, before turning away from him.

“Please,” he scoffed jokingly, dragging the cloth across his face as he dried himself off.

“As if you could ever forget this face.”

Yeah, as if, Kiara thought to herself, all too seriously. Outwardly, though, she responded by giving him the middle finger over her shoulder as she continued to make her way back to her cleaning supplies.

“I know you struggle with the cursive,” she called to him, disappearing from view into the cleaning closet, “but you can read the sign that says we’re closed, right?”

“Yeah, I managed that one, thanks. I appreciate the concern, though,” he replied, pulling a stool out from the counter and perching himself upon it as she rummaged around in the closet.

“Luckily for me, I’m not here for the shrimp and grits. Unless…” he chanced his luck, but she stuck her head out of the closet for a second to scowl at him as she replied.

“Not a chance. Everything’s already been cleaned, I’m not firing it all up again to make you free food.”

“Worth a try,” he said with a shrug.

“So if it’s not the free food you’re here for, what is it?” Kiara asked him, her voice sounding distant from inside the closet.

“You,” he said, and she froze, her arm extended above her head as she reached up for another clean cloth and some spray.

After a moment she emerged from the closet empty handed, standing a few feet from him.

“Jay, we talked about this-” she began delicately, but he interrupted.

“No, actually, Kie, you talked. I just had to sit there and listen.”

Kie’s mind jolted her back to the last conversation they had before the ferry docked on the day they came home.

***

They were sitting together on a bench out on the deck, her head resting on his shoulder and their hands clasped together as they stared out to the approaching shore, the announcement signalling their arrival playing out overhead.

“So what happens now?” JJ had asked, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze.

“What do you mean?” Kie had questioned back, lifting her head to look at him.

“Between you and me. I mean, these last few weeks... I don’t know. I guess I just thought things might be different.”

Kie thought back to the last three weeks - the lingering stares, the subtle but deliberate touches, their desire to be around each other all the time becoming more and more obvious as the days had gone by.

She didn’t remember exactly when things changed between them, but she did remember that last night they spent on the beach once everyone else was asleep.

She remembered the sound of his hushed laugh as it faded from his lips, his eyes shifting from piercing and glittering, to dark and wanting, as they fell from hers down to her lips, and back again.

She remembered the heavy breath he took when she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, nervous but excited for what might happen next.

She remembered her breath catching in her throat when he turned at the waist to face her, his hand reaching up to brush a stray curl back from her eyes, before trailing it down her jaw to rest on the side of her neck, fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of her neck as he leaned in.

Her eyes had fluttered closed, and she’d stopped breathing altogether when she felt his breath against her lips.

One of her hands had tugged on his t-shirt, the other pulling down on the back of his neck as she tried to close the minimal space left between them...

But then Pope had stumbled out from the shelter just a few meters along beach, cursing as he tripped over a piece of rogue driftwood in the dark, and they had sprung apart as though they were suddenly allergic to each other.

JJ had cleared his throat as Kiara combed her fingers through her hair, and they jumped to their feet as Pope asked them what they were still doing up.

They made their usual excuse about not being able to sleep, and Pope shrugged, still half asleep as he wandered off behind the tree line, informing them he was going to take a piss.

With the moment gone, they retreated in silence back under the cover of the shelter, unaware that the next time they’d be alone to discuss it, they would be getting ready to dock back in Kildare.

“JJ, I - I don’t really know what to say.”

“Well that’s easy, Kie. You just say how you feel.”

With the dock coming in to view, the sight of her mom and dad standing at the edge, she began to feel overwhelmed, as though she couldn’t distinguish one thought from another.

She knew things had changed between them, and she knew that her parents were going to be unsufferable - that she was probably going to get shipped straight back off the island to boarding school the first chance they got.

She panicked, at what that would mean for her and JJ, and she didn’t have enough time in the next 30 seconds to think it through.

“Kie, what’s wrong?” JJ asked as she abruptly pulled away from him and got to her feet.

“Nothing, I’m fine, it’s just...” she trailed off, and the look on his face as he stared up at her broke her heart in two.

“I think it’s best that we just keep things how they are between us.”

The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them, and if she thought the look he had before was heartbreaking, it was nothing compared to this.

“Okay, but-” he began as his brow furrowed and his cheeks flushed, but she cut him off.

“Look, Jay, we’ve been friends for a long time, right? And these last few months have been crazy... and, y’know, being stranded on an island for three weeks? That shit can kinda fuck with your head. And so I just don’t know if we should let any of that change what we are to each other.”

She was rambling, and he was trying desperately to keep up, but the next minute the ferry shuddered as it made contact with the dock.

“Um, my parents are here. I should go,” Kie said, turning on her heels and practically running for the ramp.

“Kie! Wait a second,” he called, chasing after her, but other passengers on the ferry had begun to make their way in the same direction and a crowd formed between them. By the time JJ had pushed his way through, Kie was already disembarked and down on the dock.

“Kie!” he called after her, hands gripping the railing of the boat as she turned back to look at him. The rest of his friends, now also down on the dock, shouted for him to hurry his ass up, unaware of everything that had just unfolded.

Kie held his eyes for a second, before mouthing a silent, “I’m sorry,” and letting her parents lead her to the car.

***

He stood from the stool, and it screeched against the wooden floor as it slid back towards the counter, putting her nerves even more on edge.

“Look, I know your parents don’t want you to see me, or any of us for that matter. But, Kie, you can’t just ghost us, alright? No one’s heard from you since we got back.”

“That’s not true. You have.” Kiara argued weakly.

JJ scoffed, throwing his hands up.

“A text saying ‘Sorry, gotta dip for a bit,’ doesn’t count, Kie, and you know it.”

“That’s not all it said,” she replied, her voice even smaller now, her eyes dropping from his.

“No, you’re right,” he admitted with a humourless laugh, and it was the most annoyed she had ever heard JJ sound, at least towards her.

“It also said ‘I miss you’. What the fuck was that supposed to mean?” he asked, his blue eyes darkening and his cheeks flushing.

“Exactly what it said! I miss you, JJ. So much. I don’t wanna be apart from you. From any of you, but-” Kiara responded, her voice a little stronger now, almost a shout as her heart hammered in her chest.

“I don’t care about anyone else, Kiara,” he replied, and it was somewhere between a shout and a laugh. Kie flinched at the use of her full name, something he didn’t do very often and it made her uneasy.

It made her feel like they were fighting, which they were.

It made her feel like he was mad at her, which he had every right to be.

It made her feel as though they weren’t JJ and Kie anymore. 

Like they weren’t even friends.

And that made her want to cry. Which was ironic, because the whole reason they were in this situation in the first place was because during the three weeks they had spent stranded together - although probably some time before then, if she was being honest with herself - she realised that she didn’t want to be friends with JJ Maybank.

She wanted more.

“Jay,” she tried again, more softly, stepping toward him, but he pulled back.

“I can’t do this,” he said, and it was so quiet that she wasn’t sure he had actually said it.

“What do you mean? Can’t do what?” Kie pleaded, stepping forward again, taking hold of one of his hands in hers.

She tried to meet his gaze, but his blue eyes were darting around the room, desperately trying to look anywhere but at her.

“Jay, look at me, please,” she whispered, and a few seconds later he did.

“I can’t have this conversation with you if you’re not gonna be honest.”

“I’m trying, JJ. I am. But it’s complicated, okay? My parents said-”

“I don’t give a shit about what they have to say, Kie. This isn’t about them, or anyone else. How we feel about each other, that’s up to us. No one else is allowed to tell us shit about it.”

She dropped her eyes, which were clouded with tears that had yet to fall, and her gaze landed on their hands that were still intertwined.

As JJ slipped his hands from hers, her eyes darted up to his, scared he was pulling away from her. But then she felt his cool palms on her hot, flushed cheeks and her eyes fluttered shut for a second before looking back up at him.

“If you tell me right now that you wanna forget everything that’s happened over the last month…”

JJ took a deep breath, as if he was bracing himself for impact, before continuing.

“If you tell me that you wanna pretend that it never happened,” his voice trailed off, and her hands came up to grasp at his wrists as he continued to cradle her face.

“I’ll do that for you. If that’s what you want. But please don’t ask me to do it for anyone else.”

His head fell forward, eyes closed as his forehead came to rest against hers. Kie squeezed her eyes shut, and the tears finally fell.

JJ felt them trickle against his palms that were still pressed to her cheeks, and he opened his eyes, brushing them away with the gentle pads of his thumbs.

“Tell me what you want, Kie,” 

It was all but a whisper against her lips, which were inches from his as their foreheads remained pressed together, noses brushing.

Kiara’s eyes opened and met his, holding his gaze for a second before speaking.

“I wanna be with you,” she said, and before JJ could register what was happening, she pushed herself up onto her toes until her lips met his.

He was still against her for a second until the surprise wore off, and then his mouth was moving against hers. 

Her hands slid from their position around his wrists down his forearms, pulling gently until he dropped one hand to her waist and pulled her body flush to his.

Her mouth fell open when the front of his body collided against hers, and JJ’s tongue which had been running along her bottom lip made its way into her mouth with a groan. One of Kiara’s hands knotted itself in the damp material of his shirt in an attempt to pull him even closer, the other snaking its way through his hair and tugging gently.

JJ grinned against her mouth, and when she felt it, she pulled back slightly to do the same. JJ took advantage of the brief pause to not only catch his breath, but to reach round behind her and untie the apron that was still around her waist. As it came undone in his hand, he tossed it on the floor behind him. His lips came back to meet hers as his hands slid down her body appreciatively, coming to a stop just under her ass. His warm fingers and the cool metal of his rings pressed into the exposed skin beneath her shorts as he lifted her until her legs were wrapped around his waist.

He walked them forward a few steps, and Kie whined at the momentary loss of contact between their mouths as he set her down on the counter.

She tugged again at his t-shirt to bring him closer, and he gladly obliged, settling himself between her legs. He hooked his hands behind her knees and pulled until they were flush against each other again, and her thighs tightened their grip around him in response.

“Fuck, Kie,” JJ breathed against her neck as his mouth dropped from hers into the crook of her neck, desperate for air.

The words and the sensation of his breath against her skin sent a shiver down her spine, and he felt her arch her back in response as her chest pressed against his. A moment later, her head fell forward to rest on his shoulder, breathless.

JJ’s hands began to wander from where they had been running up and down the smooth, bare expanse of her thighs up to her waist, fingers tracing under the hem of her top that clung sinfully to her curves.

When she felt him hesitate, she lifted her head from where it was resting on his shoulder, her lips brushing his skin as she dragged them upwards across his jaw until they hovered over his again. She nodded, eyes burning into his before they fluttered closed again and her lips collided with his.

His hands pushed under her top, roaming the expanse of bare skin on her back. Kiara’s hands moved to push his jacket off his shoulders, pulling it down his arms until she heard it hit the floor with a soft thud.

The rain continued to hammer against the roof above them, and pelt off the glass windows surrounding them as the last of the sun disappeared below the horizon, casting pink and orange and purple shadows across them and the empty restaurant.

Kiara could feel the strong planes of his chest and stomach beneath the damp t-shirt that clung to him, and she wanted nothing more than to peel it from his skin and have it join his jacket on the floor.

Her hips rocked forward instinctively at the thought of it, and JJ groaned against her mouth as his fingers dug into the soft skin of her hips. 

Thunder rumbled in the distance, and a few seconds later a snap of lightning lit up the sky and they flinched, pulling apart slightly.

They were as close as they’d ever been, noses brushing, eyelashes tickling the others cheeks, lips brushing but not quite touching as they caught their breath.

“JJ,” Kie breathed, shifting so her mouth was now against the shell of his ear, and his skin prickled as he hummed in response. 

“I really don’t want this to end, but…” she trailed off with a sigh as her arms came up to drape across his strong shoulders, pulling him close as he straightened up.

“I know,” he whispered against the column of her throat, where her pulse was still hammering, before wrapping his arms around her waist in response.

They stayed like that for a minute or two, just holding each other close and taking in the moment - God knows when they’d be able to have another.

“I’m sorry,” Kie whispered into the silence, and she felt him smile against her neck before he spoke.

“Don’t be. That was further than I ever thought I’d get with you.”

“That’s not what I meant, dumbass,” she laughed against his ear before pulling back to slap him playfully on the shoulder. She let her arms slide down from where they had been wrapped around him until her palms rested flat on his chest.

JJ relaxed his hold on her too, hands coming to rest lazily against her waist as his thumbs traced circles into the bare skin between the waistband of her shorts and the hem of her top.

“I’m sorry that everything is so complicated.” She clarified, her soft, brown eyes gazing into his.

“Don’t worry about it, alright? We’ll figure it out,” he comforted with a gentle smile, pressing a kiss to her temple.

“So,” he said a few seconds later, followed by a cough to break the tension, “We’ve got some floors to mop, huh?”

Kiara tilted her head, a smile breaking out across her face and lighting up her features at the sight of him grinning back at her. 

JJ lifted her down from the counter, setting her on her feet before turning them around so he was nearest the counter and she was facing away from him.

“Better get to it, Cinderella,” he said, smacking her gently on the ass over her shorts, and she turned to shoot him a look of mock offense over her shoulder.

“Aren’t you gonna help?” she asked, nodding her head towards the cleaning closet that was still lying open.

“Sure. In a minute though,” he replied, still leaning back against the counter.

“What’s wrong with right now? I’m working under a time crunch now, thanks to you.” Kiara asked, turning to face him again with a drop of her hip as she crossed her arms over her chest, eyebrow raised at him.

“If you must know, thanks to you,” he began, repeating her own words back to her with emphasis, “I need a minute to… regroup, if you will, before I can move from this position.”

When Kiara continued to stare at him blankly, he dropped his gaze from hers down to the front of his shorts and back again, and Kiara threw a hand over her mouth to stifle her laugh.

“Right. Got it.” she replied, holding her hands up apologetically but still looking wildly amused. “Sorry about that.”

“Sure you are,” he drawled with a laugh as she moved over to where her apron and JJ’s jacket had landed on the floor, bending over to pick them.

“Not helping, Kie,” JJ groaned from over by the counter and she stood back up, turning to toss the item at him.

“My bad,” she said with a grin, re-tying her apron around her waist and picking up the mop.

A while later, when they had finished mopping the floors and had moved on to polishing glasses whilst Otis Redding played in the background on an old record player in the back office, Kie’s phone buzzed with a text from her mom letting her know they were on their way back.

***

Kiara cried as she said goodbye to JJ on the boardwalk outside of the restaurant, clinging to him as though she might never see him again because, with the way her parents had been acting, it was a real possibility.

JJ whispered comforting promises against her ear and pressed soft kisses into the now all too-familiar crook of her neck. He wiped away her tears and told her he’d see her soon, one way or another, before climbing onto his bike.

She looked on as he reached the end of the road, where he would turn left to go South and she would turn right to go North, and she had never realised it was possible to feel so close to someone and yet so far apart at the same time.

[enha-woodzies]

➸ CHAPTER 6 | " AT LONG LAST PT. 1 "

starring: enhypen ft. i-land daniel

pairing: jungwon x fem!reader x sunghoon

genres: royal au, romance, angst, slowburn, 18th century setting

word count: 2.5k

taglist: @serendipitysung (betareader) @angeljungwon @en-sun @affectionaterainoflove @renkiv @softforjungwoo @jislix @fluffi @gyeraniee @stxrryemxlys

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To be promenaded in front of the entire ton is one of every lady’s desires. From the piercing stares of the envious, to the love-struck looks of those smitten by the pair, the two most-loved couple of this season gracefully saunters from the cemented pathway and down to the grassy lawn, ever so politely greeting Northumberland with their warmest and charming presence.

The young marquess joins the young miss’ family under the canopy near the lake. With a hand draping over Sunghoon’s arm, Lord Niki mutters swears to the gods for lightning to strike upon the chap, as the gagging sight of his sister along with his most despised douche is gradually sucking the life out of him.

“Good morning!” Sunghoon greets the family and so did Lady Park. Jay gives away a polite nod followed by a toast of the teacup, whereas the almost always brooding Niki responds with an exaggerated rolling of his eyes.

“Your Grace. Always the charmer, aren't we?” Niki jeers to which Jay chokes on his warm, jasmine tea.

“The smoothest at being one, Riki.” The name rolls naturally off his tongue like a snake’s hiss that roused Niki’s ire. The boy could feel the crescendo of his spite, yet he eases it casually with a sly smirk.

“Smooth like a snake, perhaps? I anticipate those fangs in action.” Niki surprisingly snaps back. Jay clears his throat as he whispers to Niki in hopes to prevent him from further fumes, although he knows it would be of no use.

Sunghoon scoffs in return, “need I remind you that I shall deliver if provoked. However tempting that may be right now, I regret to inform you that I’m only here to promenade your sister and impress your dear mother.”

“I do hope she turns you down in the most painful way possible, Your Grace. I find my sister's taste in men quite genteel. Surely, you're aware of how opposed you are to that considering your…” Niki walks closer to the marquess to give an exclusive barb against his ear, “nasty record.” He brushes off imaginary dust off Sunghoon’s shoulder before bumping against it, “Good day to you two!”

“Oh dear, your brother is making me worried. Is he alright?” Lady Park whispers to Jay and the gent soothes their mother by softly massaging her hands, rubbing circles on the back of her palm, “he's just going through puberty, mother.”

“Is that so? I don't remember you having those episodes before. Furthermore, I apologize, Your Grace. Rest assured it won't happen again. I will definitely see to it.”

“No worries entirely. It's Niki after all, he may be a tough handful but as far as I recall he's completely-”

“Held back? Are those the words you were going for?” Jay cuts off. 

“You're quite forgetting the fact that I’m right here.” Y/n attempts to intrude only to be silenced by her brother once again. With his head held high, Jay saunters up to Sunghoon, who is almost the same height as him. Locking eyes with the chap, he simpers, “come, Your Grace, I require a brief moment with you. Excuse us for a bit, sis.”

And with that, the men left the canopy, leaving Y/n and her mother utterly baffled with the uncalled tension.

The sound of paper being folded into an almost crumple echoes around the parlour, where the only sound that existed prior was deafening silence from the three men sitting across each other.

The culprit was none other than Yang Jungwon, who appears to be insulted from what he just read. Throwing off the now crumpled paper, Daniel perfectly catches it mid-air and opens it in haste.

Sunoo takes a gander at the Daily Tattle’s contents that Daniel incoherently mutters. Jungwon carefully studies his brother's reaction as Sunoo’s smile quickly transforms into shock, followed by the furrowing of his eyebrows with his mouth ajar; the final gesture, shooting a questioning look-- with his mouth still ajar-- at one of the scandal’s subjects.

“Surely, me asking two dances from you was already too cheap but, one, brother? Are you seriously being expensive right now?" The eldest exclaims.

"One that is very exclusive and controversial, might I add." Daniel chimes in. “What was all that about?"

"Remind me why I need to explain myself to the both of you?" Jungwon monotonously replies with his eyes fixed on the book he was now reading.

“Because we ought to know?”

“Well, if not to us, at least to Y/n?"

“Good god. Why is she in this conversation all of a sudden?"

"Because you pulled a dick move on her and we ought to know what's going on inside that brain of yours! You're so dense. Must we shake you up to shrug off those lil rust in there?"

"Oh, shut up, Daniel."

“That thing you did there? With her? Was very unlikely of you, Jungwon." Sunoo stands from his seat and transfers to Jungwon’s side on the couch.

"Well, what is like me then?"

"Spit it out or Daniel and I are gonna have to annoy you for the whole week.”

Jungwon slams the book on the couch and lets out an exasperated sigh before grunting out loud. "I just wanted to be alone with her, okay?! Are you pleased now?"

"Wait. You like her, don't you?”

“No, I don't! And I would never for heaven's sake."

“But you want to be alone with her. Isn't that what people do when they're in love?" Daniel rubs his chin in thought.

“Oh, god! Whatever lets the both of you sleep at night then. Assume the worst for all I care." The heated gent lifts himself up from the couch and strides towards the exit.

“Where are you going?”

“Away from the two of you. You won't stop annoying me either way, so I’m gonna get myself some cleaner air.” Jungwon slams the door shut behind him for a relieving walk to the woods.

“Now he's mad.”

“All we ever said was the truth, didn't we?”

“He is pretty rusty, alright.”

Y/n visits the Kielder Forest once again to run away from the stressful men of this morning’s promenade. She could've stayed in her fortress, but because of their foolish ruse, she had to show up. Now her brothers had to meddle with the already confusing mess.

Pages from the borrowed Austen book are now being flicked through again. She couldn't concentrate no matter how hard she tried, as Niki’s words still lingered in her mind.

“What nasty record could he have?” She mutters under her breath. Soon after, crunching of leaves startles her, and she realizes her whispers weren't the only noise around. Y/n dashes out of her sheer fort only to be welcomed by her most coveted man ever.

"What are you doing here?!" Jungwon asks in an angry kind of worry.

"What are you doing here?"

"Taking a walk, obviously?"

"Well, I’m reading. Obviously." Y/n sassily blinks at him, to which he returns a slightly puzzled look.

"You're much aware that you shouldn't be here, let alone unchaperoned, right?"

"Well, good thing you're here!"

Y/n crouches down to re enter her fort now that she has a guest. She softly taps the extra pillow, gesturing Jungwon to join her in a momentary bliss. One that is very rare when it comes to the both of them, and something that the young miss has found herself accustomed to now. When it comes to Jungwon, he'll just leave her begging for more.

Was it simply luck that had caused him to turn down this pathway? Whatever it was, he didn't feel the need to complain. As of now, all he ever wanted was a piece of mind from his brother's interrogations about him and Y/n. Not fully realizing that the very person who triggered him to rush out of his house would be the one he was impossibly hoping to run into.

"You still have that?" Jungwon points his lips to the book she was flipping. She had borrowed it from him and had yet to return it after all these years.

"Are the inclusions still there?" He continues. Although he wishes he didn't. He recalls all the little notes he left on his favorite pages just to get his feelings across and now he chuckles at the mere thought of him playing Romeo.

"They are. They're kind of tattered now, but they're still comprehensible. You do have a remarkable penmanship after all, something that's very impossible to miss."

The boy chuckles at the thought. "You do mean those things you wrote here, right?" She concerningly asks to which Jungwon only shrugs his shoulder with lips shut tight. "Well, don't mind me 'cause I'd like to think that you did."

"Suit yourself." He mutters. Little did she know he was smiling to himself with flushed cheeks.

The boy looks around the interior of the fort while whistling to the air, followed by a few jabberjays mocking his tune. They chuckle over the memory and realize they had traveled back in time.

"Jay's going to get aggressive with me on fencing once he hears about this. I've been conspiring to keep his sister hidden." He playfully smirks.

"Do you remember we used to do this in the garden lawn? Playing hide and seek just to get a glimpse of Jay's maddening face." Y/n reminisces the good old times they both used to share. Although there were petty fights here and there, what conquered most was their endearing bond.

Jungwon looks over as he vividly remembers that exact memory, "and we ended up building a fort out of the picnic sheets we used to hide in and officially made it our castle" he adds.

"I've forgotten what it's like to feel young." Y/n lets out a deep sigh, minding the pressure she's bearing now that she's about to be offered to the life-long commitment that is marriage.

Jungwon looks over her, feeling all concerned with the worries that she might be facing as of late; things that he wouldn't have any knowledge of as a man.

Society has dictated women's place in the world as persons who are supposed to be emotional, submissive, and homely; something very opposed to those of men. Knowing Y/n well enough and how she enjoys her liberty, her own principles, Jungwon worries her future companion, if not him, would find her very indifferent and of no use in the long run.

And it pains him to think that she wouldn't be well off with someone even worse than him.

She deserves more and he knows that fully well.

"Well, I, for one, miss moments like this more than anything." He lightens the mood in hopes of seeing that beautiful smile on her face.

As he turns to her, the two lock eyes. In that moment, Yang Jungwon swore of laying out his long-hidden sentiments. Under normal circumstances, he would speak his mind. But with Y/n looking at him like this, he would most likely fuck things up.

And he fails himself yet again.

"So uhh… you and the duke-to-be, huh? That must be thrilling." He looks away and pretends to play with the twigs on the ground.

"Y-Yeah! Yeah, indeed, it is. The promenade went well today… before the two decided to sabotage it."

"Do tell."

"We're all aware of how Niki ultimately detests the marquess, aren’t we? He kind of uhh… insulted the man in front of mother."

"And… Jay?"

"Stole the marquess from me to have a word with him."

"I reckon he had many words with him."

Y/n chagrins at the imagination of Jay going head to head with the marquess. Being the overprotective one, Jay will go out of his way to expel threats in the family.

"You seem to be clearly aware of that. Yet you entertained His Grace anyway. I pity Niki. He must be going through a loophole of shit again, now that his dear sister's off strutting with that man." Jungwon blurts out, though he wishes he never did… again.

He is clearly rusty and he kind of admits it now.

"That man? Whatever's the matter with all of you?! You dare speak of him like you know what happened between him and my brother-"

"Y/n, we all went to the same university. What makes you think I know nothing?"

"That man you're referring to was just the man who saved me from an embarrassing night, no thanks to you."

Jungwon scoffs at her pettiness.

"Don't turn away with those remarks now. You toyed with me that night, left me there with nothing but utter shame to bring home. I'm sure you're very proud of that now."

Promenading would be every woman's desire, indeed. But being ghosted or fled from is something that every woman fears, especially when they've been shunned by someone they adore the most. Such shame and reproach haunts them for almost the rest of their lives, especially when the ton won't let them sleep at night with that reminder.

"Have you not at least any bit of politeness left in you? You must be ashamed, asking my brother for such favor that you cannot even put through yourself."

"I have my reasons."

"I highly doubt they're even valid." Y/n retorts. Jungwon sighs in exasperation, finding the situation rather unnecessary that he'd rather keep his mouth shut. She deserves to let her anger out after all.

"Whatever happened to you?" She mutters under her breath, looking over to the boy who kept his head hung low with his elbows leaning on his raised knees. "Sometimes, I look at you and see a completely different person. You know, I never learned to read your mind, Jungwon. So stop giving me all these silent treatments as if something happened even though nothing ever did."

Jungwon lets out a sharp exhale before poking his cheek with his tongue. "Stop seeing Sunghoon then. If you care so much about your brother, stop frolicking around with that scoundrel."

Y/n scoffs at him, followed by the rolling of her eyes, trying to stifle an untimely tear from falling.

"You're unbelievable! Just so you know, I've wasted many sleepless nights crying because of your stupid ass, and I still do for heaven's sake! But now it's very clear to me that there's no amount of crying left that I can do for you!"

Y/n groans heavily before standing up from the pillow she was sitting on, throwing the Austen book hardly on the cold ground.

"So much for hearing nothing but the truth from you, huh? I despise you, Jung. Very much."

She runs off from the boy for what seemed like the nth time. For the past years, this exact scene had happened. Jungwon closes his eyes and lets himself fall harshly on the pillows. He raises a hand over his head, looking at the gaps between his fingers thinking of how he let her slip away, again. He drowns himself in deep thoughts, all the while trusting that Y/n will forget this day ever happened, like before.

He knows she will.

At least, that's what he tells himself.

Though deep down, his stomach churns in fear.

And there's no one to blame but his damning pride.

*send me an ask or a message if you wish to be added on this series' taglist!

ㅡ © ENHA-WOODZIES, 2021

[wouldpollyapprove]

Coal Miner’s Daughter

Request: Can you do Tommy with number 4 from the fluff list?????

Requested by Anonymous

Thomas Shelby x Reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: Language

A/N: I enjoyed writing this so much and I think I’m gonna at least do a second part. I can’t tell you when that’ll be out, I have to first find time to write it. I also didn’t expect this to turn out this long as I’ve been suffuring from writer’s block. Thinking about it now, I think it’s because I wasn’t inspired by the prompt I was given.

Masterlist

Recently moving to Small Heath, Y/n knew nothing but the fact that everything she owned would be covered in dust and soot. The fact left her unfazed, being a coal miner’s daughter and all meant that she knew no life without either. But this place was cleaner than the Welsh village she’d come from that was covered in layers upon layers of the black material. With the life given to her, she also knew little of what went on in the larger cities both in Wales and England. And that meant, she knew nothing of Mr. Thomas Shelby. 

At least, no until she spilled her drink on him.

“Fuck,” the man shouted as the chilled liquor soaked through his waistcoat. Hands raised, he backed away from the puddle that collected beneath him, the whiskey in his glass splashing onto his fingers. His eyes meet that of what he could only describe as a terrified deer, wide-eyed and doe-like.

Sucking in a breath, Y/n set down her empty glass, cursing herself for not paying attention. “I’m so sorry,” she apologized and reached for a handkerchief that was tucked away in her purse. “Here let me.” Y/n dabbed the clothe over a few areas to suck some of the moisture out. 

“Just-” He removed her hand from his chest. “-go somewhere else.” Though, it was clear her intentions were good, having gin thrown at him put him in a rather grumpy mood.

Nodding, Y/n scurried past the man, his stern tone told her it wouldn’t be delightful to cross him. With an empty glass, she slid into the where her neighbors sat, the ones who invited her to the Garrison in the first place. After she’d told them that she’d never been to a proper pub, they shared a single glance and then declared that they would take her out for around. Seeing as how her portion of the round ended up on a random man, Y/n wasn’t enjoying herself.

Marie shook her head when Y/n slide in next to her brother, Will. “Can’t believe you spilled gin all over Thomas Shelby and he let you live,” she snickered, a finger tracing the rim of the mug in front of her. 

Eyes wide in confusion, Y/n hoped someone would explain who she was talking about. Had she known such a simple accident could result in her death, perhaps she would have reconsidered moving to Birmingham. When no one caught on, she asked, “What do you mean?”

“Christ, you are as innocent and naive as they come, aren’t ya?” Will rolled his eyes, downing the last of his whiskey. He sighed, setting the glass down when he caught the hurt and confusion in her eyes. “That man-” A finger pointed at the slender man that could be seen in the pub’s private room. Even from such a distance, Y/n couldn’t help but notice the sparkle of his ice-blue eyes under the light. “-is Thomas Shelby. Very long story short: he’s a businessman and gangster. Guts men like they’re fish and blinds them like their bastards. He’s not one to trifle with. Or lay in bed with.”

Face paling at his words, Y/n couldn’t believe she hadn’t been warned about the man before. Where she came from, the only people you had to worry about were the drunks. There were no gangsters in Aberfan, it was simply unheard of. You had the occasional thief, usually children who were left to starve when their fathers died in the mines and their mothers who couldn’t find work, and perhaps a murderer or two if a man was caught in the wrong bed. But it was never anything like what the people of Birmingham had to deal with. “Should I be worried?”

The woman across from her laughed, “No, dear. The worst he’d do to you is charge you for a new waistcoat.”

An hour or so later, Will let out a sigh and stretched his arms over his head. “I’m beat, think I’m gonna head home,” he said before shuffling out of the booth. Marie nodded in agreement, but she would agree to anything since she had finished off her sixth glass of wine. Y/n watched them stand and throw on their coats to protect themselves from the brutal Birmingham wind. “You coming?” Will asked, throwing a few coins on the table. 

Glancing at the glass that laid abandoned in front of her, barely touched after being refilled, she couldn’t find a reason to go home. Y/n didn’t want to spend another night in her apartment, too big for one person, all alone. Watch the shadows play tricks on her, make her feel safe one minute but let her believe she was in danger the next. At the same time, there was no reason for her to stay in the pub. Her glass would never empty and she would do nothing but feel sorry for herself, sorry that she couldn’t be more like everyone else. 

“I think I’m going to stay a little longer,” she finally said.

Marie raised a brow, “Are you sure ya wanna do that?” Y/n simply nodded and watched the pair slipped out the door.

Once they disappeared behind the wooden doors, Y/n started to regret her decision. It wasn’t too late to run after them, but her brain was telling her otherwise. In a room full of people who had known each other for years, seen each other on the street since they were children, she felt out of place. If she stood, Y/n feared a spotlight would be put on her, following her all the way to the door. But then, when would she leave? There would be no good time to slip past those in her way and run to the comfort and silence of the outside world if she feared the eyes that would be on her. 

Before her anxiety could bury her any deeper, someone slid into the booth. Bringing her eyes up from her glass, Y/n met the eyes of a thick, red-haired man. He looked like every other man that worked in the factories and the look in his eyes told her he didn’t care for a thing she had to say. “Here alone?”

Y/n hesitantly nodded. But as soon as she caught his reaction, she knew it would have been better to lie, say she was here with anyone to get him to find a new place to sit.

“Such a shame. A pretty girl like you, here all by yourself,” he commented, eyes scanning her body. “If you want, we could go back to my place.”

She smiled, “I would rather stay here and finish my drink. You can go home if you’d like.” Over the rim of her glass, she could see he wasn’t pleased and as the liquid stung her throat, she knew he wouldn’t leave willingly. 

“Or I could wait for you to finish.”

Closing her eyes, Y/n couldn’t understand how she had become lucky enough to not only spill her drink on a gangster but also have to put up with a bastard in the same night. How hard was it for the man to see she was uncomfortable? Did the loss of color in her cheeks not give it away? “I don’t mean to be rude, but I don’t want to go home with you.”

The man scuffed, obvious it was rare for women to pass him by. “What are you a prude? Women don’t come sit in pubs alone unless they want to leave with someone.”

Obviously, women in Birmingham took up much different social lives than those in Aberfan. If Y/n were back home, no one would question her being in a pub alone. No one would assume she was there for any reason other than to drink. Small Heath, Birmingham wasn’t the same and she was a fool to believe there wouldn’t be a little culture shock. 

“I-” she started before a shadow was cast over the table. Glancing up, Y/n wasn’t sure if she should be relieved to see Thomas Shelby standing in front of the booth. There was a dangerous look in his eyes when Thomas glared at the man across from her. Y/n found it odd, the man was her problem not his, so why wasn’t he enjoying himself in the little room that seemed to be set aside just for his enjoyment.

“This man bothering you?” he asked Y/n, eyes set on the man across from her. Before she could even nod, the man swallowed, skin turning a dangerous white. 

Shuffling out of the booth, the man stammered, “Sorry, so sorry, Mr. Shelby. I-I’ll just go then.” And like that, he was gone, almost as if he’d never been there to begin with. 

Watching him flee through the door, Y/n slide out of the booth, the eyes of her savior never leaving her. Standing next to him, she wrung her hands together, trying to find the courage to look him in the eye. Mr. Shelby was a tall man that held himself with a deadly sort of confidence that entered the room way before he even made an appearance. He looked like the man that was hard to please and easy to anger. 

Grabbing her coat off the back of her seat, Thomas handed it to her, “You alright?” 

His voice was soft, much different than she expected it to be when he wasn’t angry. “Yes, yes, thank you,” she finally managed, quickly glancing at his face that had softened since she’d spilled her drink all over him. “I think I’ll go home now, don’t want to bother you any more than I already have.”

“It’s no bother and I’d feel much better if you let me walk you home,” he waved her comment off and waited for his offer to be accepted.

Believing it rude to turn him down, a man like him probably wasn’t used to that, Y/n nodded, “If you want to, I suppose.”

With that, Thomas led her out of the pub, the cold air biting her cheeks as they walked out into the empty street. Stuffing her hands in her pocket, Y/n let her eyes wander around the buildings they passed. The brick structures, though not tall, were much larger than the ones she had grown up around. They were giants, looming over the pair as they passed, silence filling the air between them.

Thomas was the first break to the silence, his voice echoing down the street. “What’s your name?”

“Y/n,” she replied, eyes meeting anything but his own. 

It was silly to be nervous, she could tell he was making an effort. His voice was softer, a gentle touch to it that warmed her heart, and his demeanor was kind, almost loving. The glow from the few lights they passed drown his features in gold, making the man look angelic. In this light, Thomas Shelby didn’t look like a man that could pull the trigger and have blood on his hands. Instead, he looked like a man in love with the world, a poet or a painter. One that found beauty in almost everything. It made Y/n wonder if that’s what he looked like before he had turned to violence. 

“That’s a lovely name,” he mused, searching his pocket for something. With ease, he pulled out a cigarette canister and put one of the thin sticks between his mouth before passing it over to his company. 

“I don’t smoke,” Y/n shook her head as the cigarettes were placed back in Thomas’s pocket.

He nodded, striking a match. “Name’s Tommy,” he informed her once his cigarette was lit and he’d taken a drag, the match forgotten on the cobblestone behind them. “Am I correct in assuming you already know who I am?”

“I just know your name, not much else.” Y/n spared a quick glance at him, his eyes were following her every move, but she didn’t feel like prey with his graze upon her. In his presence, she felt safe, that could have been because he was a gangster or it could have been something she couldn’t put her finger on.

Taking a drag, Tommy glanced up at the night sky. It was a cloudless night, he knew it would be cold. When his mother was alive, she always grew a small garden and made sure to cover her plants when clouds disappeared from the sky come nightfall. “Starry nights are dangerous,” she’d say. “Not only are men fools when the sky is clear, but it’s anything but warm.” If his mother was right, he would wake up to a blanket of frost covering the plants at Arrow House. “You’re not from Birmingham, are you?”

Y/n shook her head, fiddling with the buttons of her coat. “Is it that obvious? But no, I’m not. I’m not from a place that’s anything like this,” she laughed, wondering why she ever chose to move to such a large city. 

“Where are you from then?” Tommy inquired, lips turning up in a small smile when he saw her eyes light up.

“Aberfan. It’s a coal mining village in Wales, dirty place but every lively,” she told him. “Small, everyone knows everybody and when you look past the soot and dirt, it’s very colorful and green. Beautiful, really.”

A big smile broke out on Tommy’s face, matching Y/n’s, it was out of character for him, but her smile was so God damn infectious. There were few people who talked of their home like that, especially considering she came from a mining town. Those mines were death traps for the men that entered, everyone was aware they may not see the light of day, but yet they went down because they needed the money. Knowing, that despite the death, Y/n saw beauty in the place she was raised made Tommy rethink how he viewed the city around him.

He couldn’t speak about the whole of Birmingham, only spending the majority of his life in Small Heath, but once he’d seen stacks of bills, the streets around him had become nothing but filth. Watery Lane was then a just a place for the poor to become poorer and where dreams came to die. There was nothing appealing about the dirt-covered streets but maybe there could be. If Tommy could only view his home under a different light, perhaps he could see the same type of beauty that Y/n did when Aberfan crossed her mind.

Tommy watched the smoke from his cigarette float through the cold air, his breath alongside it. “You miss it then?” The woman beside him shrugged. “You don’t?”

“I’ll always long for it,” she explained, finding herself to grow more comfortable around him. “But I know there’s more to the world than some quaint little mining village in Wales. As long as it’s in my heart, I do believe I’ll be fine.”

Letting her words sink in, Tommy came to a stop beside her at the steps of a front door, which no doubt lead to her apartment. How she felt about Aberfan was how he once felt about Small Heath when he was shipped over to France. The young man that went off to war believed that as long as he kept his home in his heart, it would be as if he never left. The man, a few years older, that returned from the tunnels no longer believed that, no matter how much he wished he did. “This your place,” he motioned to the front door, earning a nod from her. 

“Thank you for walking me home, you didn’t have to,” Y/n found herself smiling at the man as she climbed a few of the steps.

Taking off his cap, Tommy held it between his hands, the anxiety of a schoolboy coursing through his veins. “No need to thank me, I enjoyed your company.” There was a pause as Y/n climbed the rest of the steps, her hand hovering over the door handle. “And I was wondering if I could possibly see you again?”

Y/n didn’t give herself time to stop and question why a man that could drown in his fortune would want to spend time with a coal miner’s daughter. She was dirt and grim, while he was clean and polished, it just didn’t add up. But Y/n didn’t care as heat spread across her cheeks. “I’d like that very much, Tommy.”

“My Friday’s free, if that works for you then perhaps 7 o’clock,” he smiled up at her. 

She nodded, “That works for me. Good night, Tommy.” Y/n opened the door, but not before he said, “Good night, Y/n.”

Watching her slip through the door, Tommy stood there, hearing her feet on the floorboards. He didn’t know what was so appealing about the woman, she seemed shy, one to keep to herself, the total opposite of him. But he couldn’t just see her once and let her slip into the night, no, he simply couldn’t do that.

*~~*~~* Let me know if you would like to be added to any of the tag lists and feed back is always appreciated.

Permanent: @amirahiddleston​ @haphazardhufflepuff​ @woahitslucyylu​ @mzcrazy2​ @lovemissyhoneybee​ @multi-fandom-iimagines​ @tarafaithe​ @jenepleurepasbaby​ @fernweh-fangirl​ @the-anxious-youth​ @theshelbyclan​ @wtfdanness​ @chloeforde​ @futuristicslimemongerbanana​ @auds24 @lucillethings​ @nemesis729​ @sirkekselord​ @princesscornbread​ @i-volunteer-for-finnick​ @iwillboilyourteeth​ @anyasthoughts​ @ellieemais​

Peaky Blinders: @simonsbluee

Thomas Shelby: @captivatedbycillianmurphy​ @imnotuglyjustpredebut

[snelbz]

The Ranch {2}

An A Court of Thorns and Roses, Nesta x Cassian, Modern AU, fanfiction.

Collaboration: @throne-of-ashes-and-beauty​ x @tacmc​

Summary: Nesta had spent years in Paris, living her dream and drowning in riches as a gourmet chef, capturing the hearts of the city and its people. But, after her father passes away unexpectedly and leaves his cozy, countryside B&B to his oldest daughter, Nesta is moving back home to the tiny town of Velaris, where the ranch, her sisters, and her father’s unfulfilled dream, awaits.

Sidenote: Being posted between two blogs, it is too chaotic to keep up with a tags list, so all chapters will be tagged with “#TheRanchNessian” & “#SharaCollab”.

A/N: This story has been in the works for so long and we have poured hours and hours into it. There have been weekends where we did nothing but write (and drink wine) all day long, because this story just flowed out of us (and, of course, the wine flowed in). We say it all the time, but writing together is our favorite thing to do. This is our first full length fic together and I can’t believe we’re finally sharing it with y’all. As always, let us know what you think and a reminder that Tara and I will be going back and forth posting chapters, so look for chapter 3 on her blog soon!

The Ranch Masterlist

Cassian had been up for hours, but felt as if he’d blinked and it was nine in the morning. He’d woken up at four and while he was making coffee, he looked out the window and watched a young calf grazing in the field. He took a sip of his coffee, and headed towards the fridge to start cooking breakfast and-.

His coffee was forgotten on the counter and his boots and shirt were on in seconds.

If there were cattle up this far onto the property, it could only mean two things. The fence was down somewhere (or worse - cut again) and it had been all night.

He saddled Lyria and rode for what felt like miles before he found the section of fencing that had been, once again, cut clean through.

He cursed as he dismounted, carefully investigating the area. The box powering the fence had been shut down and all three of the conductive wires shredded through. Cassian sighed as he walked through the opening and looked down into the field where the cattle grazed.

There were six cows of varying sizes below.

“Damn it,” he breathed and headed back toward his cabin.

First things first, he had to fix the fence. It would do him no good to catch the missing herd, just for them to get loose again. Then he’d bring Beau down with him to herd them back into their pasture.

After repairing the fence and locating the herd, he found himself by the main house. And once again, that little red sports car was parked in front of her.

With a sigh, Cassian opened the back door and went inside. She was, once again, in the kitchen, but this time she was cleaning. The lemony scent of all-purpose cleaner hit Cassian as he shut the door behind him, more loudly than he should have. 

She peeked over her shoulder, observing him. “Nice to see you fully dressed yourself before gracing me today.”

Cassian chuckled. “Disappointed?”

She just shook her head, going back to cleaning the countertops. “Not at all.”

“Pity,” Cassian mumbled, pulling out a chair from the kitchen table and taking a seat, watching her every move. “Shirt can come off, again, just say the word.” 

“When you speak,” Nesta began, opening one of the top drawers and emptying its unnecessary contents into the garbage, “do you find yourself as annoying as I do?”

Cassian just grinned. “Look, I’ll leave you alone in a minute. Just thought you’d like to be updated on what’s been happening this morning. Also, do you drive from here to the house you’re staying in every time? Because...it’s really not that far. It’s perfectly walkable. Or, are you just afraid of getting your shoes dirty?”

Nesta stopped what she was doing and turned to face him, leaning back against the counter. “First of all, you’re an asshole, but I’m sure that’s not news to you. Secondly, did something happen this morning?”

Cassian watched her for a moment as he tied his hair back. “Some fencing had been cut along the far east pasture line.”

Nesta blinked. “Okay…”

“You don’t know what that means, do you?” he asked, humored. “You lived here for eighteen years before you left, did you not?”

Nesta’s eyes narrowed. “I assume you’re going to tell me, considering you like to hear yourself talk so much.”

“It means, sweetheart, that someone purposefully came onto our land and cut our electric fence, in hopes something would happen to those animals.”

Nesta asked, “You fixed it though?”

“Yes, but I-.”

“Great. Here’s the thing, Cassian,” she turned and continued cleaning. “As you’ve so kindly pointed out, I don’t know the first thing about ranch work. I also don’t care to. So as long as you keep the ranch running smoothly, I don’t need to know everything that goes on.”

Cassian was staring, but unlike yesterday, it wasn’t at the way her ass filled out the jean shorts she wore. It was in shock. “You don’t want to know what’s going on with the ranch?”

“Secondly,” she continued, not acknowledging he’d even spoken, “in regards to our land, I decided to take a look at the property boundaries. I’d like to add another building.”

“Another building? Nesta, there’s barely enough land for the cattle as it is.”

Ignoring him again, she pressed on. “While I was looking for them, the deeds for all three houses fell into my lap. You said you knew my father for a long time, right, Cassian? So surely you’d know how bad his procrastination was.”

His heart dropped into his stomach.

No, there was no way she was about to say what he thought she was.

“Why don’t you check that envelope on the table?”

Cassian reached for it with trembling fingers. When he opened it, he saw that it was the deed to his house, yes, but the bottom line, the line where the original owner’s name belonged…

It was blank.

“Looks like he never got around to going and getting it notarized,” Nesta said, pulling another drawer open. She found silverware inside, her mother’s priceless silver set from their wedding. It was tarnished and bent. She pulled it out and set it to the side, to clean it later on.

Cassian slowly folded up the letter and tossed it onto the table. “So, what? You’re going to kick me out of my house?”

“It’s my house,” Nesta clarified.

Cassian pushed back his chair with such force that Nesta almost flinched. “Let me see his will.”

Nesta turned to face him, meeting his eyes for the first time since he’d opened the envelope. “What?”

“I want to know exactly what he left to you. Shit, I’ll call his fucking lawyer. I’ve lived in that house for eight years, Nesta, taking care of this land like it's my land. You get rid of me, this whole operation goes to shit.” He was fuming, barely able to think clearly. His hands were shaking as he shoved them into his pockets. 

She, however, was the epitome of calm. “I didn’t say I was getting rid of you.”

Cassian’s jaw clenched. 

“I expect you, if you want, of course, to continue working here. Elain says you’re great at what you do and I trust her judgement. But, I do expect you to respect me as your boss, just like you did my father. You will do as I say, and no more meaningless flirtations.”

Cassian scoffed, loudly and humorlessly. “You think a little too highly of yourself, Sweetheart.”

“I will sign the log cabin to you and allow you to continue your and my father’s agreement if you agree to my terms,” she continued, as if manipulating him pleased her. “I want another building on the property, and I want you to build it.”

Cassian blinked, his anger turning back into shock. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

She fished around in a box before pulling out a small polishing rag. She went to work on the silverware. “You said you would do anything that needs to be done.”

“I’m a rancher, Nesta. And a handyman, at best,” he gestured around the kitchen. “I fixed your air conditioning, and I can do other things like that, but I can’t build an entire damn house.”

“Stable,” was all Nesta said.

“Excuse you?”

“A stable. I want a stable closer to the house.”

Cassian was stunned. “You...want a new stable?”

“Yes, the barn and stables down by the round pen are falling apart. I don’t think the horses are safe in there.”

“And you care because..?” He didn’t mean to sound like an ass, but everything he’d learn in the past eight years completely contradicted what she was telling him.

“Just because I didn’t care to learn how to ranch doesn’t mean I don’t love my horses.”

He blinked at her and he hesitated, but spoke. “I can...try. But like I said, I’ve never built anything like that before.”

She set the polishing cloth down and the one fork she’d been meticulously polishing during their entire conversation. “That’s fine. I’ve- I’ve never run a B&B before but here we are.”

“Have you been down to the old stables?” He asked, not accusingly, but curious. “Do you even know how many horses we have?”

“We had nine when I left,” she said, looking out the window. “And they were all fairly young. Theoretically, they could all still be alive. How many?”

“Eight. Sold one, lost one, and had one just appear out of nowhere.” He couldn’t read her tone. Couldn’t tell why she was asking.

“Who was sold?”

Cassian tread carefully, watching her. He stood and got a coffee mug from the cabinet, pouring a cup from the steaming pot on the counter. He took a drink and leaned back against the cabinet. “About three years ago, a girl and her parents stayed the night on the way to a rodeo in Cheyenne. She was a barrel racer and her horse was getting too old. She saw Hue out in the pasture and asked if she could ride her. They paid us cash before they left and Hue is a world champion barrel horse now.”

Nesta nodded, remembering exactly what she’d looked like, why Feyre had given her the name. Nesta had never been a fan of Paint horses, but it was no question that Feyre fell in love. “And the one who died?”

Cassian hesitated again and this time Nesta looked up. His hazel eyes were sad. “He was a great horse, Nes.”

Nesta looked away and tried to blink the tears away.

Phoenix.

“What happened?” she asked, nudging the fork with her finger.

“He just started to colic one day, we’re not exactly sure.” He crossed one booted foot in front of the other. “A day or two after the colic started, we had the doc come out and he said he was completely blocked. If we didn’t get him moving and get that block to pass, we were gonna lose him.” Cassian bumped his heel against the toe of his boot. His spurs jangled as he did. “He never got back to his feet. I’m sorry, Nesta.”

She sniffled and nodded, but refused to look up at him. “You should, uh, go do whatever it is you do now. I’ll talk to you in a bit. I’ll have lunch ready at 1:00, if you’re hungry.” She began to head towards the doorway leading to the living room.

He reached for her wrist. “Nesta, it’s-.”

“Leave,” she said, snatching her arm back. It was firm, but it wasn’t unkind, showing Cassian just how broken up over the news she was. Even more so when she added, “Please.”

She kept walking and was out of his sight as soon as she turned the corner into the living room.

He sighed, rubbing his hands down his face.

Today was nothing like he planned.

____________________________

Nesta spent her day working. After Cassian brought his unpleasant news, and she’d asked him to leave her alone, she didn’t see him. He made himself scarce for the remainder of the afternoon, and she no longer cared what he spent it doing, knowing full well he would make himself useful around the ranch.

Elain was right, he was a great rancher. 

It was why she was allowing him to keep his house on the land. He was right. If he were to leave, the entire ranch would go to complete shit. 

Phoenix lingered in the back of her mind all day, no matter how much she tried not to think about him. 

She finished polishing her mother’s fine silverware, pissed the entire time that her father had treated them like meaningless pieces of plastic. After that, she finished cleaning out the kitchen and was busy in the living room when Elain texted her.

Still on for tonight? We were thinking we could go to the old corner bar.

Nesta sighed. She wanted so desperately to say no, but Elain had missed her, and she had missed Elain. Besides, she’d given Nesta an entire house full of free furniture.

I’ll be there. What time?

8?

Ok. 

Nesta looked at the time. It was just after six. She could certainly use a shower. She hadn’t taken one since she’d arrived the morning before. Her water wasn’t turned on in her little house, but she was too stubborn to ask Cassian where the main was.

Especially after what had happened that morning.

She was tempted to text Elain and ask if she had invited him to dinner, but didn’t want it to seem like she cared.

Because she didn’t. 

Not one bit.

So instead, she bundled everything she would need to get ready into her suitcase and tossed it in her backseat, slamming the door a little harder than she probably needed to.

She mumbled something about ‘not wanting to get her shoes dirty’ as she climbed into the driver seat and started the car, heading up to the main house. She headed into the house and started up the stairs, heading for her old bathroom on the second floor. But she paused and smirked, turning and heading back down the hall, towards the master suite, which took up the bulk of the second floor.

As she walked through the house, she swore she heard the floor creaking upstairs, but knew how much noise this house made while she was growing up. She could only imagine how much it would creak in the middle of the night now.

As she took a quick shower, she pondered the idea of turning the B&B into a haunted mansion type of deal, because there was no way anyone was going to be able to sleep here if the house made as much noise at night as it did during the day. Ultimately, she knew she’d have to get someone out to check the foundation of the house and probably redo the floors at some point.

As she turned the water off and pondered all that she would have to do to fix this place up, she was thankful for her notoriety and success in the world of all things culinary. When she’d gotten the call about her father’s death, she’d been in Paris, talking to young culinary students how to properly chop for the different methods of cutting. His funeral had been planned so quickly that there was no time for her to even request to go. A few weeks later, when she’d received a call from his lawyer, telling her that he’d left her his dream, his baby, there was no question of what she needed to do.

Her three restaurants in Rome, New York, and Paris were all on the market in less than three days. Forty-five minutes later, she sold them to a single buyer for eighteen million dollars.

She’d sold her brand, her craft, everything.

She was thankful, because now she had the funds to do what she needed to save this place.

Stepping out of the shower, Nesta wrapped a towel around her wet body. She ran one through her dripping hair and combed through it. She yawned and checked her phone, finding it wasn’t even seven yet. If Nesta had any hope of staying awake after her long day of cleaning, she’d need to start drinking copious amounts of caffeine now.

She decided coffee didn’t sound half bad and decided to make a pot while she got ready.

Passing by the front door, she locked it, just in case somebody decided he wanted to visit again. She continued into the kitchen and put a pot on to brew.

There was something peaceful about a pot of coffee brewing. Nesta loved the little noises the machine made as it made her a pot of delicious energy filled goodness. 

As it did its job, Nesta turned to head back down the hall and up the stairs to the master bathroom. She was excited to meet Elain’s man. She had heard a lot about Azriel throughout the last few years, and Nesta wanted to meet this guy for herself.

The man that stole her sister's sweet, beautiful heart.

She wondered if Elain had asked Feyre and if so, if Feyre would show up.

Nesta wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t.

Nesta didn’t care if she didn’t.

Either way, Nesta had to admit that a night out would do her good. She couldn’t even remember the last time she had gone out or done anything for herself, other than work.

As the air conditioner kicked on, she was hit with a sudden chill and regretted only wearing a towel. She’d brought her outfit for the evening and didn’t want to put it on until she was ready to leave, but the clothes she’d worn earlier today were sweaty and gross.

She’d found her mother’s old clothes in one of the closets upstairs earlier and wondered if the floral robe she used to wear was there as well. Tightening her towel, she headed upstairs and was passing by the bathroom when the door opened up.

Nesta screamed and jumped backwards, Cassian stepping back similarly. He almost slipped on the damp tile but kept his footing.

As her breathing returned to normal, Nesta asked, “What in the hell are you doing here? You said you lived in the log cabin!”

“I do, but I got bucked off one of the mares and was covered in mud and shit.” He crossed his arms over his tattooed chest. “Why aren’t you down in your fancy, new house?”

She put her hands on her hips, standing her ground. “My water is off and someone hasn’t told me where the main shutoff is so I can turn it back on.”

Cassian lifted a brow. “Someone hasn’t asked.”

Nesta shook her head. “Get out. I have to get ready.”

Cassian made a show of his eyes grazing over her body, covered in only a towel. She had to force herself to not do the same to him. She was perfectly aware of the small, blue cotton towel that covered only a small portion of his massive frame. She was perfectly aware of how low that towel hung on his hips.

“Can I get dressed first?” He asked, voice quiet as his eyes met hers, once more.

The minute they did, she couldn’t look away. “If you must.”

He looked like he wanted to say something else, especially when his tongue peeked out to wet his bottom lip. But instead, he silently closed the door between them, and Nesta released a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

She continued down to the study in the hall and to the closet where she’d found her mother’s clothes. It only took her a few seconds of searching before she found the thin, soft, blue and white fabric.

It felt just like she’d remembered.

Nesta dropped her towel and, after shaking it out, put the robe on, thankful that her father had been such an emotional sap and couldn’t get rid of anything of her mother’s.

Nesta’s mother was a beautiful woman, but Elain was shaped most like her. Her chest and hips were not nearly as full as Nesta’s, which made the short, modest robe her mother had worn around the house nearly obscene on Nesta. Nevertheless, she wore it, loving the feel of it on her skin.

She walked back down the stairs with her towel draped over her arm, finding the bathroom door open and the room empty, steam still fogging the mirror, and turned toward the kitchen to get her coffee. She found him already in there and she hesitated, but continued in.

“Nice robe,” he said, peering over his mug.

“Gotta date?” She shot back, eyeing his clean jeans and button down shirt. His feet were bare.

Cassian chuckled. “Not quite. Your sister asked me to dinner with her and Az.”

Nesta froze, just as she was about to start pouring her coffee.

“Judging from your reaction, I assume you’ll be there, too.”

Nesta sighed, continuing to pour her coffee before taking a sip. “You’d assume correctly.”

Cassian smiled - true and genuine. “Let me drive you. Save gas.”

Nesta didn’t reply. “Tell me about Azriel.”

Cassian's brows shot up. “What?”

“Tell me about him. Elain is sure he’s the one, so I want to know everything.”

Cassian slowly sat his mug down and ran a hand through his damp hair. “He’s a great guy. Caring. Loves Elain more than I ever thought he’d love anyone. We’ve known each other since we were kids. I’m surprised you don’t remember him from high school.”

Nesta’s gaze shot to his. “What?”

Cassian's brows rose. “He went to high school with us.”

With us. Nesta hesitated, and Cassian definitely noticed.

“Ah, I knew you didn’t remember. Doesn’t surprise me. Your nose was always stuck in a book. Everyone thought you were a complete bitch, by the way.”

Nesta sat down her mug with far too much force on the countertop. “You don’t know what the hell you're talking about.”

“Am I wrong?” Cassian asked, chuckling.

Nesta practically growled, “About which part?”

“Any of it.” He took a drink of his coffee.

Nesta was quiet for a few seconds, knowing she couldn’t contradict any of what he’d said.

No, she didn’t remember him.

Yes, her nose was always in a book.

Yes, she was a complete bitch.

Dropping the subject for another time, she instead asked, “What does he do?”

Cassian rolled his eyes. “Why can’t you ask Elain or Az these things at dinner?”

“Because I want prior knowledge going in. She mentioned something about a dealership last night? But also tractors?”

“New tractor dealership opened in town. He’s a mechanic there. He used to work for a local business, but they had to shut it down last year. You’ll come to find that most local businesses around here aren’t making it anymore,” he said.

Nesta looked around. She knew the B&B had been struggling for years, but her father had never given up on it.

“Well, I guess I’ll get ready, if you’ll excuse me,” Nesta said, taking her mug and walking toward the hallway.

“No more questions?” Cassian asked, and when Nesta looked over her shoulder she found him watching her walk away.

“Is he good to my sister?” Nesta asked.

She was surprised to see his eyes soften when he said, “Very.”

Nesta turned without another word and headed back to the master bedroom to finish getting ready.

A half hour later, her hair and makeup were done and she was shimmying herself into a tight pair of jeans, a black tank top, and a pair of tennis shoes. Cassian was still sitting at the kitchen table, scrolling through his phone.

“I can drive myself, you know,” she muttered, putting her empty mug in the sink.

When she turned back around, his phone was ignored, all his attention was on her. A moment passed and he cleared his throat. “I realize that, but it’s never a bad idea to have a designated driver when you’re going to a bar.”

Nesta raised a brow. “You don’t drink?”

Cassian's grin widened. “I can just hold my alcohol.”

“And I can’t?” Nesta scoffed.

Cassian shrugged. “I don’t know, can you?”

Nesta took a minute to think about it. “Fine. There’s no point in both of us driving. Since I mean, we live together. Not together! But- Shit.” She sighed. “But we’re taking my car.”

He chuckled, but she could see the grin he was hiding, and got to his feet. “Like hell we are.”

They bickered the whole way to the door, which took longer than one would have expected. Nesta telling him she wasn’t riding in a dirty, beat up, old pickup and Cassian telling her to get the stick out of her ass and not worry about a little dirt.

As they stepped out onto the front porch, Nesta locking the door and hiding the key, she said, “These shoes were two hundred dollars, I’m not putting them anywhere near cow shit.”

Cassian just stared at her. “You own a cattle ranch.” Nesta hated it when he used logic and was going to tell him as much when he continued on and headed down the porch stairs. “And they’re just as likely to get dirty at the bar as they are out here. Now come on, this isn’t up for discussion. I can’t even fit in your tiny car.” He opened the passenger door and waited for him.

But Nesta was staring. Mouth open, not blinking, full on staring. “What is that?”

Cassian sighed. “It’s my truck, now get in, let’s go. It’s been a long ass day and I want a beer.”

This was not the truck Nesta was expecting to find out front. This definitely wasn’t the truck she’d seen him driving around the property. No, that truck had been on this property for as long as she could remember.

Nesta, stunned into silence, did as she was told. He had to help her up into the cab, and the second his hands were on her, she felt like the air had been pulled from her lungs.

“You okay?” Cassian asked, waiting as she turned her legs out of the way of the door.

Nesta nodded and he closed the door, heading to the driver’s side. She shook her head a couple times, trying to clear the fog in her head that always seemed to cloud her thoughts to when she was around him.

He started the truck, which was much quieter than Nesta was expecting and they were on their way.

It was quiet the first few minutes, only quiet music playing through the radio. Cassian kept time with the songs in multiple ways. Sometimes, he would brush his fingers along his jeans, almost like he was playing guitar. Sometimes, he’d tap the beat out with his non-driving foot. But mostly, he drummed on the steering wheel, often with his thumbs but occasionally, his whole hands.

Nesta just stared out the window. Finally, she turned to him and asked, “I’m sorry, if this comes off as rude, but how exactly were you able to buy this truck?” Cassian opened his mouth to reply but Nesta charged on. “Cause this is a very, very nice, very, very new truck.”

Cassian looked offended. “Definitely came off as rude.” Nesta rolled her eyes. “I-”

“I’m just kidding, relax,” Cassian said, laughing. “We just met, you can’t know all my secrets.” 

“Oh my god,” Nesta began, staring at him from the passenger seat. “It’s illegal, isn’t it? You’re a hit man, aren’t you? Or a thief, oh my-”

“I can promise you I don’t break the law,” Cassian promised, then winked. “Often.” 

Nesta shook her head. “You’re an interesting man.”

Cassian laughed. “Yeah, so are you. But, you know, a woman. By the way, we need to get you a pair of boots.”

Nesta looked down at her sneakers. “What’s wrong with these?”

“First of all, who the hell spends two hundred dollars on a pair of tennis shoes?” Cassian asked, then went on without giving her a chance to answer. “Secondly, must I continuously remind you that you now own a ranch?”

“I can be a ranch owner in my nice shoes.”

Cassian smiled as he turned into the parking lot of the bar. “But why the hell would you want to?”

She looked across the truck to his giant feet. He still wore his dusty boots. “Maybe you’re the one that needs new shoes. How long have you had those? They’re practically falling apart.” 

“We’re not talking about me here, okay? We’re talking about you.” He hopped out of the truck before Nesta could respond and as quick as a flash, he was opening her door for her and helping her down from the cab. “And I’m pretty sure as soon as we go inside, you’ll see that I’m not exactly in the minority here, sweetheart.”

When he put her feet down on the ground, he kept his arms around her for a second and Nesta groaned in disgust and pushed back against his chest.

His rock hard, muscled chest.

He stepped back and as Nesta looked up into his hazel eyes, she tried not to think about the two times she’s seen him without his shirt, and the one with almost nothing. She cleared her throat and looked away. She started heading for the door and said, “So, heads up this could be...rough.”

Cassian caught up, sliding his hands in his pockets, after locking the truck behind them. “Okay?”

“I’m sure Elain invited Feyre, though I don’t know if she’ll come.” Nesta paused, realizing just how much anxiety she was feeling on walking through those peeling double doors. “She hates confrontation just as much as I do.”

Cassian was confused. “What do you mean? Why wouldn’t she come?”

Nesta sighed, stopping before they got too close to the doors. “Feyre and I aren’t exactly on speaking terms, okay? She’s never forgiven me for leaving when mom died and I’ve never exactly given her a reason to, but… Gods, I just couldn’t stay here anymore.”

“It’s going to be fine,” Cassian said, leaning against the brick wall. “Rhys will be here, and I’m sure he can calm her down.”

“Who’s Rhys?” Nesta asked, glancing over at him.

His eyebrows nearly shot into his hairline. “Her fiancé…”

“Her fiancé?” Nesta rubbed her temples. “I need a drink.”

She felt calloused hands wrap around her wrists and they were pulled from her head. Cass dropped her hands at her sides and said “It’s a good thing we’re at a bar then because I think I can help with that.” Despite herself, Nesta laughed. “Come on, boss. Let’s go.”

Her nose wrinkled as they started walking into the bar together. “Oh, don’t call me that. I don’t like it.”

Cassian snorted. “You sure? I would’ve thought the subservient inferior thing would do it for you.”

Nesta threw her head back and laughed, the sound so rich and beautiful, it stunned Cassian into silence for a moment.

“Cassian!”

His head whipped to the side, toward the bartender who’d called his name. “What’s up, Luce?”

He pointed toward the far corner of the bar. “In the back, corner booth. You want the usual?”

Cassian glanced down at Nesta. She asked, “What’s the usual?”

He smirked. “Guess you’ll have to find out.”

She didn’t miss a beat before she tilted her head and said, “Make mine a double.”

Cassian’s eyebrows raised again and he said, “Okay. I’ll see you at the table.”

“Okay.” Nesta walked towards the back corner that the bartender, Lucien, she recalled his name being, letting her hips sway a little more than she typically would. But this banter, this back and forth with Cassian... It made her feel...different.

It had been far too long since she’d been with a man. Far too long since she’d found release in anything but her hand or some form of plastic. And even though he annoyed her to no end, even though he pushed her buttons and made her insane, Nesta found herself wondering just how far she could push him.

She was thinking about how good he’d looked wearing nothing but jeans and those dirty boots when someone stepped in her path. “Excuse me, if I could just-.” Nesta paused, realizing that she was looking into her own eyes. “Feyre?

A decade had done her baby sister well. She had grown up, that was for sure, a woman now, not the awkward teenager Nesta had left behind.

Feyre didn’t say anything, didn’t smile or even react to her eldest sister saying her name. Instead, she pulled back her hand.

Next thing Nesta knew, her face was screaming in sharp, searing pain. Strong arms wrapped around her and turned her away from her sister’s rage but her voice seemed to be farther away, too. Granted, the entire bar went silent at the sound of skin on skin, and when Nesta looked up, tears welling in her left eye, she found Cassian looking down at her. “You okay?”

She nodded, pressing her hand to her already swelling cheek. She could hear another hushed male voice calming Feyre down but couldn’t find the courage to look away from Cassian’s hazel eyes.

Cassian let her go and turned his back to her. His voice was light as he said, “A simple hello would have been good, Feyre.”

Nesta watched over his shoulder.

Feyre was storming away, and all that stood in her place was a man who Nesta assumed was Rhys. 

He looked uncomfortable, rubbing the back of his neck. “She, uh, needs a minute.”

Meanwhile, at the table in the corner, Elain looked horrified. She was sitting, hands over her mouth, as a man wearing a black hoodie and a baggy beanie whispered into her ear. 

Nesta was mortified.

Even as the people around her moved on, resuming their conversations and whatever else, Nesta knew her face had turned a deep shade of red - and not just where Feyre had slapped her. 

“This was a mistake,” she whispered, backing away. “Take me back to the ranch.”

Cassian turned to meet her gaze and Rhys followed Feyre into the hallway where the restrooms were, both of them disappearing. 

“Stay a while,” Cassian said, voice low. 

“After that?” Nesta laughed, palm still pressed against her cheek. “Fuck, no. Take me back.”

“Not before you have a drink.”

Nesta’s embarrassment was quickly turning into anger. “Take. Me. Back.”

Cassian paid her no mind. Instead, he went around her and spoke in hushed tones to Lucien. The bartender nodded, poured two shots and placed them beside what Cassian had previously ordered - the usual. 

Before Cassian could even say a word, Nesta had two shots down and was sipping on a tall glass of whiskey. 

Cassian watched with what looked like amazement. “Slow d-”

“Tell me to slow down and you’re the next person in this bar getting slapped,” Nesta snapped, sitting on a barstool. 

Cassian took a seat next to her. “Yes, ma’am.” 

“I can’t believe she fucking slapped me,” Nesta said, quietly, head already beginning to feel light. She didn’t drink much, just a glass of wine from time to time. She spent too much time working to drink. “I knew she wouldn’t be exactly pleased to see me, but…”

“When she comes back, I’m sure she’ll apologize,” Cassian promised, putting his own glass to his lips. 

“I don’t want an apology,” Nesta said.

Cassian shook his head. “I know we’ve just met, but you are one stubborn woman.”

Nesta was so focused on her drink that she didn’t notice Elain coming toward her. It wasn’t until her arms were thrown around Nesta’s neck that she put her glass down on the bar.

“I’m so glad you came,” she said, obviously trying to pretend like their family drama hadn’t just been the bar’s entertainment. “This is Azriel.”

Nesta smiled, taking in his dark apparel. “You don’t look like someone that would work on tractors.” A laugh sputtered from her lips.

Cassian looked from her, to her glass, then to Elain. “She wasn’t kidding. She really can’t hold her liquor.” 

Azriel just smiled, gently. “Not the first time I’ve heard. Elain’s told me a lot about you.”

Nesta leaned closer to him when she whispered, “And Cassian has told me a lot about you.”

“Oh no,” Azriel chuckled, looking to Cassian. “All good things I hope?”

Cassian shrugged. “Keep hoping.”

About that time, a door slammed on the other half of the bar. The four of them turned to see Feyre storm from the bathroom, grab her purse from the booth and walk out the front door. She didn’t so much as spare a glance at their direction.

“Oof,” Azriel breathed, watching the door slowly close behind Feyre’s retreating figure. He then glanced over to see Rhysand leaving the bathroom, rubbing his hands over his face in exasperation. “Bigger oof.”

Rhy looked at the table and found it empty, but glanced over and found their group looking towards him. He made his way through the crowd until he joined them.

As he approached, a shot glass appeared next to Azriel’s arm and he handed it to Rhys after throwing a grateful look to Lucien. Rhys tossed it back and let out a sharp breath. He pointed at Cass, Az and Elain with each word he said. “Not one of you assholes could at least warn me that she was coming?”

Nesta understood his frustrations, but the alcohol in her had her too far gone to care. “What? How am I the bad guy here?”

Elain looked sympathetically at Nesta as she said, “If we did, Feyre wouldn’t have come and you know it.”

“Wow,” Nesta said, cutting off whatever Rhysand was about to say in response. “You sure know how to make a girl feel welcome.”

“Well, Feyre’s pissed now, so...” Rhysand sighed, then truly looked at Nesta. 

Nesta couldn’t tell what he was thinking and, thanks to the alcohol, she really didn’t care. “Look, you hurry after her and tell her that I love her. Okay? Then...you can come back and get me another drink. Bartender!”

“Okay,” Cassian said, looking over his shoulder to shake his head at Lucien. “I think you-.” When Cassian looked back to Nesta, she had finished off his drink. “Seriously?”

“Also, who the fuck does Feyre think she is? I mean...she isn’t perfect, either. She hates me, so what? She’s not the only one that ha-ha-hates me. I hate me. I had to get out. I had to leave, okay? I had to go. It’s-it’s-it’s not my fault she doesn’t understand that.” Nesta was pointing to where Feyre had disappeared through the double doors, into the night. “I had to leave. I had to.”

Elain looked up to Azriel with sorrow-filled brown eyes. 

Nesta snorted. “Cassian.” She grabbed him by the collar and pulled him close to her. “Get the red-haired man to give me another glass of the usual.” 

All of Rhysand’s frustration seemed to have faded as he watched Nesta allow the alcohol to consume her. “Look, I’ll talk to Feyre, okay? Maybe we can get together...soon…”

Nesta shrugged. “She won’t listen. She’s almost as stubborn as me. You know, people have always said we both take after our mo-.” Nesta froze, unable to get the word out. She cleared her throat, picking up the glass behind her that had just been refilled. “Our mom.”

With that, she downed its contents. 

Cassian handed her a glass of water and stepped in front of her and she sipped it. He leaned down so he was eye level with her. “You okay?” She nodded. “You gonna get sick?” She shook her head no. “Good.”

He took the now half empty glass of water and set it back on the bar, before unceremoniously tossing Nesta over his shoulder. He grabbed her clutch where it was sitting on the bar and waved it at his family. “Glad we could do this, can’t wait to get everyone back together again.”

“Put. Me. Down!” Each word Nesta hollered was punctuated by a swift hit to his lower back. Or was it his ass? She couldn’t tell, nor did she care.

“Lucien, I’ll get you next time, okay?”

Cassian didn’t even need to look back over his shoulder to see his friend close out his tab at a zero balance and wrote his name on the long IOU list.

He pushed through the open doors and Nesta was still fighting him as he carried her towards the truck. “Put me down, you brute!”

“Nope, I’m doing you like you asked first. Taking you back to the ranch.” He readjusted his grip on her and his left hand planted firmly on her ass.

She gasped. “You did that on purpose.”

Cassian chuckled. “Made you stop fighting me.”

He unlocked the passenger door and dropped her on the truck bench. He tossed her clutch inside before shutting the door and walking to the driver’s side. As he was getting inside, Nesta locked eyes with Feyre, who was sitting on the bed of a black truck, parked a few spaces away. 

Waiting for Rhysand, no doubt.

But Rhysand was not the reason that Feyre’s cheeks were red and blotchy, her eyes swollen. 

Nesta quickly looked away as Cassian backed out of their parking spot and found the main road. 

“That was fun,” Cassian observed. 

Nesta looked over at him, watched as he kept one hand on the wheel and rested the other on the gear shift. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up, revealing tattoos along his forearms. 

“Do they have meaning?” Nesta asked, surprised at how quiet her voice had become.

Cassian glanced at her, brow raised, before realizing she was looking at his tattoos. “Some of them, yeah.”

“Let me guess, you’re not going to tell me because I can’t know all your secrets?” She asked, repeating the excuse he had told her so many times throughout the last forty-eight hours.

Cassian huffed a laugh, biting on his bottom lip. “Look at you, already knowing what I’m going to say.”

Nesta laughed, under her breath, as she looked at the road in front of them. There had been a time when Nesta had loved Velaris, had loved all it had to offer. She rested her head against the window and admired the starlight. 

“What about you?” Nesta asked, refusing to look his way. “Do you think I’m a bitch?”

“I think you’re….” He weighed a few words in his head, deciding which one fit best. “Difficult.”

“Difficult?” Nesta laughed. “You make me sound like a misbehaving child!”

“Well…” Cassian said, taking a sharp breath between his teeth.

“Shut up!” Nesta cried, laughing again, covering her face with her hands.

The truck stopped and settled as Cassian put it into park. A calloused finger gently pried one of her hands from her face. “Are you okay?”

Nesta knew he wasn’t asking her about her alcohol tolerance level this time. She pulled her hand away, which had still been resting on her throbbing cheek, and pressed her fingers into the tender skin. She nodded.

“I’m sorry that happened. I really am.”

She looked over at him, his voice much closer than she expected. She didn’t recognize the surroundings around her. “Where are we?”

“Outside my place. I knew the freezer was out at the main house and didn’t know what you had in yours. I know I’ve got a bag of peas inside I was gonna grab and-.”

Nesta was unbuckling her seatbelt and sliding out of the cab.

“I was just gonna grab them and take you back up to the main house,” Cassian said, killing the engine and hopping out behind her.

“I want to see it,” Nesta said, walking toward the porch. “I’ve always thought it was cute.” She stepped in something slimy and looked down. “Are you kidding me?!”

Cassian walked over to where she was standing and laughed. He laughed harder than he had in months and said, “Now do you believe we should get you some boots?” Nesta didn’t say a word, she just scraped what she could off into the grass around her. Cassian made his way up the steps of the cabin and said, “Besides, that wasn’t from a horse. That was from Beau.”

Nesta asked, “Who’s Beau?” right as Cassian opened the door.

A Blue Heeler pup, no older than six months came tearing out the door.

Nesta instantly forgot about her shoes as the pup jumped up on her legs. 

Cassian whistled. “Down, Beau.”

“It’s okay,” Nesta laughed, scratching behind his ears. “He’s sweet.”

Beau wagged his tail, knowing full well he was showing off and his cuteness was being accepted. The pup trotted around Nesta as she crossed the threshold into the small cabin.

Cassian tossed his keys on a side table, next to a recliner in the main room. “I’m training him to help me around the ranch.” 

Nesta raised a brow as Beau hurried out the front door. “Yeah? How’s that going?”

Cassian closed the screen door as he watched Beau chasing his tail at the bottom of the steps. “Not great so far.” 

Nesta laughed, stepping up beside him. “Thanks for driving me tonight. Even if you hauling me out of the bar was completely unnecessary….I would have done something I’d regret if I stayed.”

Cassian glanced sideways at her before turning to face her, head on. “Starting to sober up, are you?”

Nesta snorted. “I’m fine. My head is just a little...light.”

“Ah,” Cassian grinned. “The light phase.”

Nesta rolled her eyes, realizing how close they were standing to one another before taking a step back.

“So,” Cassian said, running his fingers through his hair. “You’re inside. What do you think?”

It was simple. Clean.

There was a woven blanket tossed over the recliner in the living room, but that, a soft leather couch, the side table, and the television sitting on top of a little table, were all that were in there. There was no table in the kitchen, but a refrigerator, a microwave, and an oven. 

“It’s nice,” she said, quietly.

Cassian laughed. “I’m not sure I believe you. Take a seat.”

He nodded toward the recliner and Nesta obeyed as Cassian went into the kitchen and opened the freezer, pulling out a sealed bag of frozen peas.

Nesta had made herself comfortable by the time he reached her and placed the bag gently over her cheek. “I know it was shitty what she did, but Feyre has one hell of a slap.” 

Nesta nudged him in the shin with her foot.

He chuckled and made his way back towards the kitchen. Nesta took a minute to lean back and close her eyes. She heard the opening and closing of a few cupboards and some ice cubes tinkling in glasses. She heard tiny hard pieces of food getting poured into a bowl. She heard his boots, heavy on the wood floor, as he made his way to the door and whistled once. The dog was inside in a matter of seconds and chowing down on his dinner. And then she heard a thud near her head.

Her eyes flew open as she looked over where the noise came from.

“I don’t think I can handle another usual,” she admitted, sheepishly.

He chuckled, leaning against the counter top bar. “I can promise you’ll like that better than the one at the bar. Try it.”

Nesta hesitantly picked it up and sniffed. It smelled sweet. “What is it?”

“Try it, sweetheart, and then I’ll tell you.” He took a large drink from his own glass, which seemed to be the same thing she was drinking. She watched him for a minute, eyes narrowed. “What?” He laughed, chewing on an ice cube.

She looked from him to the drink and back. “Waiting to make sure you aren’t about drop dead from whatever poison you were trying to sneak to me.”

Cassian began to laugh. No, not only laugh. He began to howl. He was laughing so hard, Beau began to howl along with him. Nesta’s eyes were huge by the time he calmed down and could speak to her.

“Just try it, damn it,” he said, before helping himself to more of his own. 

Nesta took a small, hesitant sip. The cool liquid was definitely sweeter than the usual at the bar.

“Maple bourbon,” Cassian muttered, finishing his glass and setting it on the table before sitting on the floor across from the recliner. 

Nesta took another sip. “It’s good.”

“I know,” Cassian said, smiling up at her.

They watched each other for a moment, and Nesta soon became uncomfortable at his gaze. Not because she feared him, but because she didn’t fear him at all. 

“I’m sorry about this morning. I was unfair to you.”

Cassian’s brows rose. “You’re just saying that because you’re drunk.”

“I’m not that drunk.”

“Neither am I,” he said, but his voice had grown significantly softer. 

Their eyes still remained connected to one another’s. 

Nesta swore she could hear his deep, unsteady breaths, as she sucked her bottom lip between her teeth. “I should probably go.”

She looked over and couldn’t read the expression on his face. She set the bag down, giving him her attention. “Or...you could stay and have another drink with me.” Nesta opened her mouth to explain why that was a bad idea but he held up a finger and began again. “Not because I’m trying to get in your pants, but because I think it’ll be easier for us to open up this way. No holds barred, yeah? No secrets, for the most part, just two coworkers getting to know each other.”

Nesta watched him, waited, and asked, “For the most part?”

Cassian smiled, a wicked grin, and said, “See, that’s where the drinking comes in. You don’t have to answer, but then you have to drink.”

She blinked at him. “So we’re playing ‘Twenty Questions’?”

Cassian stood, taking her glass with a huff, and saying, “Well, now it doesn’t sound as cool, does it?”

Nesta giggled, actually giggled, as he filled their glasses back to the top and gave Nesta a straw. He reached out to hand it back to her, but took it back at the last minute. She flinched and looked up at him. “No half ass girly sips,” he said, hazel eyes sparkling. “It better count.”

She snatched the glass from him and he laughed, sitting back down against the wall. He whistled once and instantly Beau was there against his side.

Nesta’s eyebrows were raised. “I’m impressed,” she said, not hiding her amusement.

He rubbed the pup’s side lovingly. “He’s a good one, that’s for sure.” He pulled his boots off one at a time and tossed them by the door, each with a loud thud. Once he’d finally settled in, he waved to her. “Ladies first.”

Nesta took a minute to think about it. “How old are you?”

Cassian blinked. “That’s the worst question, ever.”

Nesta threw her hands in the air. “Well, I thought I’d start with something simple.”

Cassian laughed, leaning his head back. “Alright. Twenty-seven.”

“Me too,” Nesta said.

“I know. We were in the same graduating class.”

Nesta cursed. She kept forgetting they went to the same high school. 

“Your turn,” she urged.

“Hmmmm,” he said, pretending to think a lot harder than he actually was. “Are you happy to be back on the ranch?”

For a split second, Nesta thought about taking a drink, but she came to the conclusion that the question really wasn’t all that bad. “Kinda.”

“That’s it?” he laughed. “Kinda?”

“You didn’t say I had to give extensive answers,” she laughed.

Cassian shook his head. “Well, now I am. New rule.”

“You can’t just add rules.”

“I can do whatever the fuck I want,” he said, leaning back on his hands as Beau nestled himself in Cassian’s lap.

Nesta pursed her lips, rethinking that drink, but decided to attempt to explain herself. “The only reason I haven’t wanted to be here is because of the memories. And I’m really hoping that I can…make new memories to replace the bad ones.”

In the end, she did take a drink, but out of fortification, not punishment. Cassian saw that and accepted her answer, not wanting to push her. She blew a quick breath out before asking, “You said you’d been working for my dad for eight years, yeah?” Cassian nodded, even though that clearly couldn’t have just been the question. “What did you do the year between graduation and starting here?”

“Tried my hand at the professional rodeo circuit.” Cassian didn’t miss a beat.

It took Nesta back. “Really? What’d you do? Bull riding?”

“Hell no,” Cassian laughed. “I wasn’t that stupid. Well, no, I was that stupid. I was just too big. You gotta be little to ride bulls. No, I was a team roper.”

“Wow.” Nesta was watching Cassian with her head tilted, almost looking at him in a new light. “Header or heeler?”

“Header,” he replied, pretending to throw the rope at the horns. “Rhys was my heeler. We were good. Won every PRCA Jr. rodeo event in our areas. So we figured it’d be nothing to make that jump up with the big dogs.” He chuckled. “We were so wrong.” He took a quick sip before saying, “The day we got back into town I ran into your dad down at Tractor Supply. Told me he needed a ranch hand to help out since Elain had college every day and Feyre was still in high school.” Cassian chuckled. “He actually hired both of us on at first, me and Rhys. He only lasted about three months though.” He began to laugh again.

“What? Why?” Nesta couldn’t imagine her father firing anyone, much less someone she had gone to school with.

“That was when he caught him sneaking out of Feyre’s window at two in the morning.”

Nesta’s eyes grew wide before she began to howl. “Oh my god. Elain forgot to mention that in our texts throughout the years.”

Cassian laughed, gripping his glass tighter. “It was hilarious. I let your dad know I was on his side, and I proved that by picking on Rhysand every chance I got.”

“Wow,” Nesta breathed, laughter fading. “And you’ve been here ever since?”

“That’s an extra question,” he said. “Unfair.”

Nesta rolled her eyes. “Fine. Go.”

Cassian’s eyes softened as he met her gaze. “Elain said you were a chef. Did you like it? Was it hard to leave?”

Nesta tilted her head. “That’s two questions.”

“Pretend it’s one,” Cassian said.

Nesta looked at him for a minute before taking a long, slow drink. What could she have said? Yes, I loved it. It was my dream. I was young, incredibly successful, and rich as hell. I left because I felt guilty for the death of my parents.

Cassian nodded, watching her. “Fair enough.”

Nesta cleared her throat before abruptly asking, “Do you have a girlfriend?”

Cassian’s amused smile returned.

Nesta shrugged. “I’ve seen you near-nude twice now, it’s a question, as your boss, I thought I should ask.”

Cassian’s smile grew as he shook his head. “No, I don’t. Not a lot of time for one. Haven’t really been looking. What about you? Someone overseas you were seeing?”

Nesta looked down at Beau, who was snoring quietly. “Is that your next question?”

Cassian sighed. “I suppose so.”

Nesta shook her head. “No. I worked too much. I haven’t been on a date in...shit. A few years?”

“Years?” Cassian said, eyes wide. “Hell, woman. You couldn’t take one night off from your busy schedule in years?”

She simply shrugged. “No.”

Cassian took a drink, watching her. “When’s the last time someone took care of you, sweetheart?”

As the words left his lips, Nesta was feeling hot and cold all over, all at the same time. And she didn’t think it was just from her drink. “It’s not your turn,” she breathed.

He swallowed hard and nodded, chuckling. “Go on, then.”

She took another drink of her own, before she asked, “How did you afford that truck out there.”

Cassian didn’t even try to look like he contemplated answering as he put the glass to his lips and drank deeply. “But I promise it’s not illegal,” he added with a chuckle. Nesta could hear the slight slur to his words, making the bit of drawl heavier than normal. “Do you really not remember me from high school?”

Nesta felt her shoulders sag. “No, I- I don’t. I’m sorry. But don’t feel bad,” she quickly added. “I sort of blocked everyone out and don’t remember anyone. So at least I don’t remember you, instead of remembering you for a bad reason.”

Cassian nodded, amused. “Well, I remember you.”

Her cheeks burned. “It’s my turn to ask a question.”

“I can’t talk in between questions?” He laughed.

Nesta shook her head. “Nope, that’s my rule.”

Cassian took a sip from his glass. “Rules were made to be broken, you know.”

Nesta couldn’t stop her smile. “What do your tattoos mean?”

Cassian rolled up his sleeves even further and examined the ink. “A lot of things.”

“Bad answer,” Nesta said, slipping off her shoes and bringing her feet up beneath her in the chair.

Cassian nodded. “Then I guess I’ll drink.” He raised his glass before bringing it to his mouth. 

“And here I thought we were playing this game to get to know each other,” Nesta laughed.

“Can’t give you-“

“All your secrets,” Nesta finished. “Yeah, yeah.”

“Do you have any tattoos?” He asked.

“What?” She laughed. “So you can know mine but I can’t know yours?”

His eyes lit up. They were glazed, but so excited. “So you do. What are they?”

Nesta took a sip, but because she was copping out, but because as the night went on, as the ice melted into the sweet bourbon, she loved the taste of it. “It’s just one,” she said, standing. She began to unbutton her pants and she heard Cassian swallow harshly. She looked up at him. “Down boy,” she chuckled. “It’s on my hip. I can’t exactly show with my pants all the way on.”

He cleared his throat and stood, refilling his glass. When he came back to the threadbare living room, Nesta had the left side of her jeans pulled down, exposing her hip bone. As he looked at it, Nesta explained, “It’s a dandelion. To remind myself that everyone, even I deserve a second chance, even though you might have to endure some harsh winds.”

When she looked away from her tattoo, she caught sight of the way his jeans seemed to be a bit more tight than they were before. Letting her eyes travel up his body, she saw the  way his body was rigid, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. His eyes, that woody hazel that she kept losing herself in, it was almost completely gone, his pupils blown out. “Your turn,” he breathed, and as his breath fanned across her face, she realized how closely they stood together.

Nesta’s breathing hitched as her entire body felt weightless.

His words from before replayed in her mind. When’s the last time someone took care of you, sweetheart?

“If given the chance,” she began, voice hushed, “would you fuck me?”

The question, asked in no more than a whisper, lingered in the quiet cabin.

Cassian said nothing as those deep, hazel eyes bore into her own. And then, he took a long, slow drink, before setting down his glass on the table beside her chair.

Breaking his gaze from hers, he went down the short hallway and disappeared into the back bedroom.

Nesta stared after him. She probably should have been embarrassed, but the alcohol coursing through her system told her not to be.

Instead, jeans still unbuttoned, she took an unbalanced step toward the front door, then another.

It wasn’t until she heard quick, heavy footsteps coming back her way that she turned around and was met with Cassian’s lips crashing into her own.

[moonflower-31]

I Won’t Forget You - Spencer Reid x Reader

Masterlist  

Part 24 

Warnings: Brief mention of self harm, Panic attacks, etc.  

Also (F/C/T) is: Your favorite cookie type 

Tags: @dra-reid, @eevee0722, @ceeellewrites, @anotherr-fine-mess, @ssahoodrathotchner, @egg-boy03, @helena-way07, @l0ve-0f-my-life, @serendipity-imagines, @kaelyn-lobrutto24, @thatsonezesty13, 

~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Never to suffer would never to have been blessed. - Edgar Allan Poe 

You bite your lip anxiously as you slowly pull away from Spencer’s now much more soaked cardigan. You sigh and attempt to wipe the spot down with your hand. "I'm sorry…" you said in a small voice. Spencer gently took your hands in his own and made you look into his eyes. 

"How can you be sorry for something you couldn't control? It's alright by me, (Y/N). Do you need someone to go in with you?" Spencer asked, his hands wanting desperately to hold you and to keep you ever so close to his chest so that you never had to fear for your safety. Because in his arms he could protect you. He could be the safe haven you needed to get back on your feet. And he would happily do so.  

You sniffled and pushed a strand on your hair that had fallen in your face behind your ear. You shook your head, gulping nervously before attempting to speak again. 

"N-no… Hotch wanted me to meet him in his office. I-I should be okay. Hotch… he wouldn't hurt me." You assure, although your voice betrayed your real feelings. You were nervous you were going to lose your probationary agent status and be downgraded to a desk-work agent. You were so close to the team now. You had already been working on fine-tuning your resume to turn in when Peter attacked you. 

Spencer sighed and squeezed your hand. "Okay. But just know I'll be here when you come out. I only have a few more reports to do. And each of them only require about a normal printer paper's worth of documentation to complete. Suffice to say you don't need to worry." 

You gave Spencer the best smile you could muster, which ended up only being a weak small one, before you turned your attention towards the small set of stairs. You then walked up to Hotch's office, the pounding of your heart and the rushing blood roaring in your ears. 

The carpet muffled the slight clop of your heels, quieting the pounding in your head just a smidge. You could see him in his office. He was business as usual, as always. You could feel your lungs collapse and refill as you took in each breath. You almost felt trapped inside your body. All around you you could only see blurry pictures of what was real. And you then began to see clearly what wasn't.  Piercing, evil green eyes began to appear on the walls, all staring at you. 

Whatever you had carried in your hands was now on the floor, your chest feeling ever so heavy. One by one your senses and functions were turning themselves off. It started with your hearing, and then your sight began to darken around the edges of your vision. By then you could see the partial outline of Spencer’s figure, trying to say something. But you couldn't hear him. The only thing you could hear was the pounding and the roaring of blood and your heart in your ears. It was deafening. 

Then you lost your ability to breathe, clutching at your chest as you coughed and wheezed, trying to suck in as much air as you could as your throat closed and swelled. Spencer gripped your arms, and it seemed like Hotch soon after joined him in trying to help you. Then you lost the ability to stand. And you fell face first into Spencer’s arms where he thankfully caught you. But it wasn't long after this that you began to lose consciousness from the lack of air in your lungs and the increasing pounding of your heart. 

The last thing you knew you would remember was the semi clearing view of Spencer’s eyes looking into yours, trying to urge you to stay awake. 

○●♡●○ 

You reawaken to Spencer's apartment ceiling, confused as to how you had gotten there. More concerned as to who was there with you. You attempt to move, to make someone aware that you were awake.  

"Hey, so Sleeping Beauty actually awakens." 

You groan at the sudden realization of who was in the room with you. You sit up slowly, turning your head to see a familiar pair of whiskey colored eyes staring at you from the corner of the room. 

"G...Gabriel?" 

Gabriel nods and chuckles to himself, advancing closer to you and taking a seat next to you. "Yep. What, were you expecting a stringbean? Prince charming? Cause he's in the other room with Chocolate Thunder." 

You widen your eyes for a moment and start to laugh softly from knowing Gabriel knew Garcia's nickname for Morgan. "You know about that?" 

Gabriel gives you a raised eyebrow. "What don't I know about you and your new work friends at this point?" 

You nod a few times. Fair enough. 

"What I also know… is that you are so undeniably in love with that pipe cleaner with eyes in there it ain't funny.  And he likes ya back. You know how many times I had to bribe him with my copy of the Hebrew version of the bible to leave you alone in here? He refused to let you go. Like seriously. Confess already. It's kinda sickening." Gabriel teases, nudging your shoulder. You look down at the floor, sniffling and laughing partly. 

Gabriel's teasing facade fell and he narrowed his eyebrows. "Kid… seriously. Are you okay? You passed out at work. That's not normal. Not even for me. And that's saying something." Gabriel's eyes widen and he holds up two hands as if saying he was innocent. 

You snicker gently, crossing your arms comfortably. "I… I guess? My uh… my Mom stopped by to beat me to a pulp today." 

Gabriel's face immediately shifted and redness increased in his face. "Are you serious? That bitch tried something? After what she did to you?! Selling you to fucking Peter?!" Gabriel hissed, his hands tightening at his sides. You flinch at his louder tone, sniffling and wiping your quickly tearing up eyes. 

"She's a narcissist, Gabe. S-she only cares about herself and th-the business. T-that she already got money for selling me to him. And it's non-refundable apparently." The dark cloud that had been around your head before your attack quickly was returning. And here you thought you'd finally be able to see sunlight. 

Gabriel sighed, his hand flexing against his jeans. "(Y/N)... I'm sorry kid. You don't deserve her. Deserve anything that's happened to you. Once we get her in jail alongside Pe-" 

You flinch at the beginning mention of Peter’s name, causing Gabriel to pause his statement and rephrase it. Gabriel sighed and began to speak again. "Once we get them both in jail, you'll be able to focus on yourself. Getting better. I'll even pay for your therapy if you want. It comes with candy I hear." Gabriel smirked, his tone growing playful to try and get a smile out of you. 

You do end up smiling gently, nodding wordlessly to your oldest friend. He wraps an arm around you and pulls you closer to him, letting you hug his torso. "Come 'ere. Let's just calm down for now, eh? Don't want you fainting on me again." Gabriel encouraged, gaining a brief chuckle from you. 

You snuggle closer, glad Gabriel understood you enough to know this was what you needed. You rest your head against his chest and listen to his heart's strong pumping. 

A few moments of resting later, a pair of footsteps exit the kitchen and make their way towards the living room. You feel a slight twinge of fear build up in your chest, but you quickly feel it exit when you hear his voice enter the room as well. 

"How is she?" Spencer asks Gabriel, probably assuming you were still asleep or adjusted while they were in the kitchen. 

"Fine, considering what she's been through. Thanks for calling me though, Spencer. I've been tryna get clearance to see her for a few weeks and only just got it. The life of a field agent." Gabriel expressed, getting what you guessed to be a nod and a grunt from Morgan. 

"It ain't all fun and games, I can tell you that." He answers, a sigh soon after leaving his lips. You open your eyes slowly and see Morgan clutching his lower thigh where he'd been shot by Peter. You resist your urge to bite your lip, wanting to enjoy a few minutes of just listening before having to interact.  

"What happened? Seriously? She didn't go into detail, and I respect that. But how did she end up fainting on her way to the boss's office?" Gabriel questioned, his hand rubbing up and down your arm. He knew you were still awake. It was like he already knew what was going through your head. 

"Her…" Spencer sighed, biting his nails for a moment as his eyes traveled over towards your supposedly sleeping form on his couch. "Her mother came in and attacked her. She stood up for herself but in the process I think she showed Hotch how unready she was for work. That's what he said anyway. That Derek and I should stay with her for a few weeks. We'll alternate cases once he goes back so she has someone at home." Spencer began to explain. You were glad you were awake now. Otherwise you doubted you would get as clear and concise of an explanation of what was going to happen if they knew you were awake. 

Gabriel gritted his teeth and looked off to the side in annoyance. "Yeah. I know about that. Which pisses me off honestly. How did she even get in? Don't you gotta have an ID to get in? An appointment or something?" He asks, his voice harsher than you'd ever usually heard it. 

"Hey, man we ain't in charge of that. That's the front desk. But yeah. Usually you gotta have an ID and or you gotta have an appointment or a meeting with an agent. She probably said she had a meeting with (Y/N) and they let her in." Derek explained, holding his hands up cautiously. 

Gabriel let out a sigh and groaned. "Fine fine. But still. It shouldn't be that easy. She should be as safe at that office as she is at home." 

Spencer nodded, his eyes closing slowly and staying closed as he sighed heavily. Something was weighing on him. You knew it. Was it you? It wasn't his fault. But then again, did he know that? 

You finally gained enough strength to finally face the two of your closest friends and began to open your eyes again, gently moving yourself away from Gabriel's chest. 

Spencer was the first to notice, his face immediately lighting up when he saw your open eyes. "(Y/N/N)..." he breathed, a smile pulling onto his face. Gabriel stifled a chuckle, rubbing your arm before giving you a reassuring look. You nodded to him, and he then stood up. He nudged at Morgan’s shoulder and winked at him. 

"Let's give 'em a few minutes, Brown Sugar. See? I can do nicknames too." He teases before he gestures for Morgan to follow him into the other room. Morgan laughed and winked back at him, following him into the kitchen. 

You look up at Spencer, gesturing to the seat beside you. He takes the spot as soon as you assure him that he was welcome. He was so cautious, wanting to make you as comfortable as you could be. You couldn't think of anyone else so attentive. 

"Spencer-" 

"(Y/N)-" 

You snicker softly, hearing a laugh echo from Spencer. For the first time in what felt like years you felt the foreign feeling of your heart skipping a beat. His laughter was like a blessing for you. And you were glad to have it. 

"You first." Spencer spoke up again after a moment. You sighed and rubbed your neck. 

"Spencer… I'm sorry. I… I didn't know I was going to faint or-or have a panic attack-" the increasing need to explain yourself filled up your chest. You didn't look him in the eyes, ashamed of not having been able to control how you acted.

But then he gently took your hands in his. Well, your wrists mostly. He was still wary of germs. "(Y/N/N)... Have I been known to lie to you?"  

You took a few deep breaths as you blinked at his question. "N-no… no you've always told the truth. That I know of." 

Spencer nodded. "Then should you determine that what I said to you when you apologized for wetting my cardigan, a lie?" 

You swallow nervously and sigh, shaking your head as you picked at your nails. You felt guilty. But that didn't mean what Spencer was saying didn't help. 

Spencer sighed. "You should not have to apologize for things you cannot control. It would be like asking me to apologize for having the IQ I do." Or for loving you, which would be a crime to apologize for. Spencer thought silently. 

Spencer’s hand raised up to your shoulder and rested there, pulling you closer to him. You both stayed quiet for a few moments, just listening to the other breathe. 

"You were awake when I talked with Gabriel, weren't you?" He asked after a few moments of silence. You bit your lip and exhaled tiredly. Your upper eyelids began to fall, proving your exhaustion. It was an exhaustion you hadn't felt since you were rescued from the clutches of your captor that shouldn't be named. 

"Y-yeah… I was just… I wasn't ready to really be awake yet." You explained. "I'm so-" 

Spencer shook his head. "Please, don't apologize for taking the time you needed." You didn't finish your statement, just letting yourself rest against him this time. 

"Okay…" you whispered, unsure of what else to say. Your tongue felt baren of words, unable to comprehend a combination that would effectively continue the conversation that you didn't second guess yourself on. 

"It's okay to have listened, (Y/N). I was just making sure you knew what Hotch said about you going back to work. You and Morgan have some time off that Hotch has given you both. He wants you to take the time to recover. If I'm totally honest, I do too." Spencer expressed, gently rubbing your arm as you laid against his chest. 

"But… I don't know what to even do with my time, Spencer. I'd bore myself." You look down at your fingers, groaning at the idea of being alone and unable to distract yourself from your self-destructive thoughts. You were glad you wouldn't be alone. Then maybe you'd be able to stave off of going back to self harm. 

"That's why Morgan will be here. For a little while. Then when he's able to go back in the field we'll alternate cases. So that you won't have to be alone, (Y/N)." Spencer assured you. "I'm sure I can help occupy your day with books." "O-or whatever you want to do." Spencer quickly adds, blushing softly. 

You smiled softly at his attempt to make you feel better. "Promise you'll read me Edgar Allen Poe and we have a deal." You attempt to tease. Spencer smiles at you and nods, hugging you closer. Seeing you cheering up was the best thing to happen to him in that entire half of the day since lunch break. You were safe in his arms. You were warm, protected, and that was all he could ask for. 

"Quoth the raven." Spencer answered, causing you to snicker. You curl up next to him, letting yourself ease breaths in and out. He was warm, and his heartbeat rhythmic. Forget any sort of music playlist. You could fall asleep listening just to his heartbeat and be off to dreamland in a matter of minutes. The warmth alone was comforting. Like a gigantic comforter that wrapped around you securely. 

"Spence… I…" you began, feeling an urgency full your chest. Were you really going to tell him? Tell him now how you felt? Would he feel the same? Gabriel could be wrong. Yet again, he was wrong about a lot of things. But were they ever this serious? 

Spencer adjusted his position so you could look him in the eyes. "Hm?" He answered, giving you the most adorable look you'd ever seen. Yeah. You were. While you still had this bit of confidence and urgency in your chest. Butterflies burst into your stomach, making you worry for a stutter. You wait a few moments to collect your bearings, before attempting what would be impossible with your normal level of confidence.

"I… I lo-" 

"Heya you two! Butterscotch and I just made cookies in here. You want one? They're your favorite, (Y/N)." Gabriel called from the kitchen. You jumped at the sudden additional voice, before sighing mournfully. 

"Are you okay?" Spencer asks. 

You exhale half annoyedly and nod. "Yeah… he just scared me." 

Spencer nodded and rubbed your back for a moment. "So… what were you going to say?" He asked, begging and hoping his cheeks weren't as red as they were warm. 

You look up into Spencer’s warm hazel eyes, but feel that last trickle of confidence slip away. You sigh and shake your head. "I… I uh… I wanted to ask if you'd want to have a movie marathon tonight. Just… as a distraction." 

Spencer blinked a few times before he nodded. "Yeah, totally. As long as Star Trek is in there somewhere." 

You giggle softly and chuckle. "Sure, fanboy." 

You stand up gently before beginning to head to the kitchen. Curse Gabriel and his want to share. You would already be kissing Spencer’s face off at this very moment if he'd waited a few more minutes before announcing he'd made cookies. But then again, (F/C/T) cookies sounded pretty good too. 

Back to the drawing board, with a few extra post-it notes of anxieties and PTSD. You'd get there. Somehow. 

[theotherackerman]

My Mind Turns Your Life Into Folklore

My Mind Turns Your Life Into Folklore

COPYRIGHT DISCLAIMER: Any recognizable elements belong to Attack on Titan.

NOTES:

Monday January 18th

song played on mikasa's computer that is sang by mikasa and eren: coney island-taylor swift & the national

the game they are playing is card against humanity and I just googled random card to get that one.

chapter twenty-one: coney island

The video began to play on Mikasa’s laptop.

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

They were nineteen in the video.

Far before everything went to hell after Grisha’s death.

In the video, they were in Eren’s bedroom. He was gently strumming a guitar as he sat on his bed.

“Tell your dad to buy a piano over here,” Mikasa called from off screen.

“Shit, this won’t line up right,” Eren grumbled before adjusting the camera.

“Why are you recording this anyway?” Mikasa asked off camera.

“So when you go famous, I can sell it on the internet,” he grinned. “Get in frame.”

“Why? Then no one can confirm it’s me.”

Eren set his guitar down and dragged Mikasa into frame. She was laughing as he pulled her into his lap. He held her there.

“Now there’s proof. Okay, drag your keyboard over here and let’s do this,” he smiled at her.

“Fine,” she grumbled.

The screen went dark.

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

There was no more video but the audio continued to play.

Mikasa heard the playing of the piano.

“Is that me?” she asked as she looked over at Eren, taking her eyes away from the screen.

He nodded.

She began to recognize the music.

But this wasn’t the same song that her nineteen year old self had written.

No, this song was much more recent.

It had been the last song she had worked with Eren on.

Her eyes widened at the realization.

“{lyrics redacted due to copyright} ” Mikasa’s voice filled her bedroom from the speaker of the laptop.

Eren looked scared.

Like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming truck.

“ {lyrics redacted due to copyright}.”

Mikasa reached across the bed but stopped from taking Eren’s hand again as her own voice cut through her thoughts and feelings.

“ {lyrics redacted due to copyright}. ”

She had been so lost back then.

Maybe that was why she had proposed.

Maybe that was why she thought the only clear answer was to commit more to Eren.

Maybe if she did then he would be okay.

He would understand that he was committed to her.

It was Eren’s voice that sliced through her thought this time.

“ {lyrics redacted due to copyright} ”

He had turned her song into a duet.

That was what he had been nervous about.

He was staring at her.

He was waiting for her reaction.

Her eyes met his.

“ {lyrics redacted due to copyright}.”

Neither of them moved.

Neither of them said anything.

In the audio, Mikasa’s voice joined Eren’s.

“ {lyrics redacted due to copyright}. ”

The chorus began, with both of them singing after that.

Mikasa’s head was swimming.

She had purposely forgotten about this song.

She was sure that somewhere around here she still had the lyrics in a journal.

An unfinished journal for an unfinished song of unfinished relationship.

Another move out of desperation.

If she had made so many moves out of desperation, how many had Eren made?

“ {lyrics redacted due to copyright} ”

Mikasa knew exactly the place Eren was singing about in the song. The place where they had played as children, snuck away to make out as teenagers.

“ {lyrics redacted due to copyright}.”

The DUI.

Her?

He had seen her when he had almost died?

He had still wanted her then?

Of course he had, they had already been through this.

So as the song continued, Mikasa put her hand in Eren’s.

He smiled.

She pulled him towards her and he rested his head on her chest. She hoped he wouldn’t notice that her heart had sped up a little.

They stayed like that, even after the song had ended.

A CRASH came from downstairs.

“I think they’re back,” Eren muttered.

At some point, Mikasa had begun absentmindedly running her fingers through Eren’s long hair.

“Probably. Glad I shut the door.”

“So, do you hate it?” he asked finally.

She shook her head. “I love it. I loved that you were here to listen to it with me. I don’t think it would have been the same without you.”

Eren nodded.

“Why were you so scared?”

“It’s your music...I didn’t want you to think I ruined it or anything.”

“You’re wrong. It’s your music too. I didn’t compose it. You did and I loved it.”

He sat up.

Mikasa was disappointed that he moved away from her.

“If you actually hate it...you can tell me…”

Her hand grabbed his shirt, pulling him towards her.

“I love it.”

Was she going to kiss him now?

Would that be a good idea?

This whole situation was a mess.

“I’m...glad..” He mumbled.

“Eren, I don’t know if we should kiss yet or not. I don’t know how to go about redoing this whole….”

Her sentence was cut off by his lips on hers.

She sighed into the kiss as she kissed him back. Mikasa would have been lying if she said she hadn’t missed this. There was something about kissing Eren Jaeger that just made her feel so drunk and addicted. Maybe it was the way his lips moved on hers or how his hands were always in her hair. Maybe it was the way that no one else could ever make her feel this alive. Her heart was racing and any thoughts or worries seemed miles away as moved her hand from the front of his shirt to wrap around his neck.

When they were kissing, there were no other worries for either of them.

And maybe that was the moment that Eren realized he had been blowing this whole her listening to his song out of proportion. If it had led to this, this feeling of having her back in his arms. This feeling of her soft lips on his.

He was so weak for her.

And he didn’t even care who knew it.

Finally, when they both needed air, they broke apart. He rested his forehead on hers.

“Too soon?” he asked.

She shook her head. “We waited too long to do that again.”

Eren grinned. “I’ve got a lot of time to make up for.”

“Should we go see what they’ve destroyed downstairs?” she asked him.

“Probably or they’ll come looking for us to assume the worst,” Eren sighed as he pulled away from her. He stretched as he stood up.

Mikasa got off the bed and her hand slipped into his as they made their way out of her bedroom and downstairs.

“SQUISH IT AGAIN!” Historia yelled from her perch on the couch.

“I’m trying!” Ymir was chasing something around the couch while she was holding a frying pan.

“Is it dead?” Sasha asked as she poked her head out of the kitchen.

“NO! Ymir, kill it!” Historia cheered.

“What does it look like I’m trying to do over here? Take it on a date?” Ymir asked as she continued her chase.

As Ymir moved to the back of the couch, Mikasa and Eren saw the largest spider either of them had seen.

“Nope!” Eren yelled as he jumped into Mikasa’s arms.

“Where did that come from?” Mikasa asked.

“No idea. I threw my clothes in the laundry and this thing came out,” Ymir explained.

“Yeah, it tried to kill us!” Sasha called while standing in the doorway of the kitchen.

Ymir swung at the spider.

It jumped.

Ymir missed. The frying pan made a CRASH noise as it hit the floor.

The spider ran under the couch.

“MOTHERFUCKER!” Ymir shouted as she stood up.

Levi came down the stairs and passed Mikasa and Eren. Eren was still in Mikasa’s arms with his arms thrown around her neck.

Levi went into the kitchen and pulled out a vacuum cleaner.

“Move,” he said as he came back into the kitchen.

Historia got off of the couch which Levi quickly flipped over.

The spider charged at Levi who pushed the vacuum straight for the spider.

At the last moment, the spider swerved and ran under Levi’s chair.

“See?!” Ymir said as she pointed towards the chair.

Levi was not going to be defeated. He dropped the vacuum to the floor. He picked up one of his steel toed boots and pulled it on. No one laughed as he made his way over to his chair. Levi flipped the chair and immediately stepped on the spider.

The spider was dead.

“You’re my hero, Levi,” Sasha said from the kitchen.

“Clean that up,” he said as he pointed to the remains of the spider left on the floor.

Annie came downstairs. “What did I miss?” she asked as she ran a hand through her hair. She clearly had just woken up from a nap.

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

After the carpet and Levi’s boot had been cleaned, they put the furniture back together.

“I think I’ll go shopping for a new couch,” Mikasa said as she flipped the couch over.

“We do need a new one. It’s so small,” Historia agreed.

Sawney and Bean came downstairs.

“Babies! You’re safe!” Ymir said as the dogs ran towards her. “Why was that spider so large?”

“Probably had a good food source if I had to guess,” Sasha shrugged.

“Great. Well, it’s dead now,” Ymir said before sitting down on the couch.  

“Should we just order dinner?” Mikasa asked before she sat down on the floor.

“Sounds good to me. I don’t really feel like cooking. A bakery bought all of our eggs today and we had to load them all into the truck,” Sasha collapsed next to Ymir.

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

Pieck had another glass of wine and sat down on Zeke’s couch.

“You’re worried about Eren,” she remarked.

“Am I doing the right thing?” Zeke asked her.

“What?”

“Moving him here. Selling his childhood home. Is that the right thing?”

Pieck sipped her wine. “The fact that you’re questioning it says you are. It says you care. I don’t think Grisha sat around and thought about whether or not he did the right thing. From what I know, I think the bastard just did whatever the fuck he wanted. Look at how that went for him.”

“I have a theory we all crave love. I wrote a paper on it. My mother...she loved me. She always made sure I knew she loved me. But my father...he never gave me that.”

“Dina was special. I miss her. How many years has it been?”

“Nine. Ten this year,” Zeke said before he looked down at his hands. “I was twenty-three. I can see her...all those machines hooked up to her.”

Pieck put her hand on Zeke’s shoulder.

“But after she was gone, well, you know how crazy my grandparents were. And then when I found out Grisha was dead….I thought Eren would be looking for a family like I was but...he was not. He already has a family. I feel like I am taking him away from that. I don’t want him to resent me for that.”

“You crave love from family,” Pieck concluded.

Zeke nodded. “I have had my fair share of relationships. They grow old for me, boring. Predictable. But to have someone who loved me and asking for nothing more….that would be good.”

Pieck hauled back and slapped Zeke in the back of the head.

“PIECK!” he yelled at her.

“You dumb fuck! I love you like that. Don’t you dare say we aren’t family. You say Eren and I are fucking stupid but you’re even more so. You think I don’t love you? What about Porco or Marcel? Or Gabi or Reiner? What about Falco, Udo, Zophia? Bertolt? EREN?” she slapped him again.

“Ow!” Zeke said as he rubbed the back of his head.

“I don’t care. Don’t you ever say you don’t have a love of a family, you dumbass!”

“You hit hard,” Zeke said as he continued to rub the back of his head.

“Good. Now bring me a pile of blankets so I can sleep here.”

“I love you too, you know.”

“Fuck off. Too little, too later, Jaeger.”

“But Pieck...you are my best friend,” he teased her.

“Go die in a hole,” she told him before taking another drink of her wine.

“You do not mean that. You would miss me.”

“Unfortunately for everyone involved, that is true.”

“What does Jean think about our friendship?”

“At first he thought you and I were dating,” Pieck replied.

“I know you said that but the idea….”

“Is absolutely ridiculous? I know. Maybe in another life but you know after you ripped my dolls head off and threw it back over the fence, I think our fate was sealed.”

“You kept throwing it at me!”

“I still haven’t forgiven you for that.”

Zeke just sighed.

“Go get my blankets so I can make my nest.”

“Fine….”

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

Levi was always the last one to go to bed.

Sawney and Bean followed behind him as he made his way towards his bedroom.

“Oh man! Come on, Ymir!” Eren’s voice came from Mikasa’s room.

“I told you! I own this game!” Ymir’s voice rang out.

Levi couldn’t stop himself from taking a few steps back to look into Mikasa’s room.

There was Ymir, Historia, Sasha, Annie, Eren, and Mikasa playing some sort of card game.

“Okay, you’re not getting the card this time. It says Jar Jar Binks is better than blank but not by much,” Eren read.

“Oh! I’ve got the perfect card for this one!” Sasha exclaimed.

He knew he should probably say something about them having work tomorrow.  He couldn’t help but be happy for all of them. They had had it rough, all of them. Sasha’s family almost losing the farm, Historia being Rod’s kid, Annie with the constant pressure from her father, Eren losing Carla and Grisha, Ymir having no family, and Mikasa losing both of her parents.

So let them be young and reckless for a while.

Levi smiled to himself as he made his way into his bedroom.

[mulderist]

Wicked Game

Chapter 1 // Chapter 2 // read on AO3 // @today-in-fic​

Washington, D.C - 1948. Fox Mulder is a detective on the top vice unit; scandal, corruption, and lies come with the territory. He is forced to investigate a fellow officer and finds the lies go much deeper than the truth.

CHAPTER 3

Arlington National Cemetery One week later 9:17 am

Leaves rustled in the trees overhead as the honor guard reloaded and repositioned their rifles. The sharp bang, like a hit on a snare drum, echoed through the eerie calm of the cemetery. I could feel it happening again. Everytime I thought I was past this nonsense it kept coming back. I wanted to close my eyes but it would have brought me back to the mud and rain of Wake Island. When you’ve been knee deep in death you never forget it. I could still smell the humid air, the burnt powder, the smoke.

I closed my eyes for a moment and balled my fist tighter as images clear as photographs flashed before me. Three years ago, I donned the dress blues and watched a soldier from my company laid to rest. It felt like I was having a heart attack as I listened to the twenty-one guns and the cries of his grieving widow. Fingers pressed hard creating a thick new line in my palm and my flashback dissolved. 

Each shot up to this point was torture. My salute wavered with the final pop and I felt the elephant on my chest move aside, allowing me to breathe a little. A bead of sweat broke free from under my hatband and took a slow slide down my temple. The back of my neck prickled. I swallowed hard and moved to parade rest as the honor guard queued up and left the gravesite. My fingers slowly loosened their curl and I felt the circulation return to the tips. Once the ringing in my ears stopped I was able to appreciate the sound of silence. 

It was a small group of mourners, mainly fellow Marines from Spender’s company and a few officers from the precinct. He had no wife, no kids, not sure if his mother was still alive. Seems that the only family representative was his father. Jeffrey had the distinction of a military funeral at Arlington due to his rank and heroics at Guadalcanal. At the drop of a hat he would tell the story about surviving hand-to-hand combat and rescuing a senior officer during a nighttime raid. I’m sure each time he retold it, that fish got a little bigger. At any rate, he’s now buried amongst other honorable men. His father was able to cut through any red tape like a hot knife through butter to make it happen. And almost as if on cue I spied the old man in his expensive dark striped suit accepting condolences. I recognized him through the smoke cloud that hung around like a bad party guest. I suppose he could feel my eyes on him because he headed my direction. He gestured to another older gentleman, who I assumed was his driver, and continued his approach. It was the first time I was able to truly observe him. He had all the obvious characteristics of old D.C. politics; dower demeanor, rigid walk, air of superiority.

“Sir, I’m sorry for your loss,” I said flatly as he approached. The scent of Morleys invaded my nose.

“Thank you, mister -?” He asked while offering a perfunctory handshake. 

“Mulder,” I replied as I shook his hand then tugged at my uniform jacket. 

“Ah yes,” he practically hissed, “You were Jeffrey’s partner in the vice unit. Keeping the city safe from crime and debauchery.” The cigarette smoking man took one more drag then let the stick hang on his lower lip. “My son had great potential. To be killed in the line of duty is a tragedy.”

 I didn’t know what type of condolence to offer. I wasn’t great friends with his son in the first place, it was a professional relationship and not much more.

“The precinct lost a good detective,” I finally managed to say. Jesus, that felt bitter on my tongue. I licked my lips, hoping this conversation would soon be over; my pleasantries were skating on thin ice. The Smoking Man stubbed out his cigarette and rattled off something about his resources that could aid in our murder investigation. Apparently he and the commissioner were old chums and justice would be swift. Then he took the cue and left. I stole a deep breath and watched him head towards his driver then enter a large black Cadillac that was parked at the base of the knoll.  

My feet hit the pathway just as I heard my name being called from over my shoulder. I paused and turned to see Captain Skinner walking my direction. 

“Just had a conversation with Spender’s old man.” I said.

“Is that so?” He questioned as he removed his glasses.

“Turns out he has the district police in his pocket so my services might not be needed with this investigation,” I said sarcastically.

“Did he know your connection to the case?”

“He knows I was Spender’s partner, but not that I was at the scene.” 

Skinner squared his jaw then continued to walk past me away from the thinning crowd. I followed.

“I’m awaiting the final report from the coroner. They found something of interest on the autopsy.”

“A different cause of death? Figured the gunshots were obvious,” I said.

“There was additional bloodwork. I’m not certain what the M.E. was looking for, which is why I want the final report.” He stopped and faced me. “Mulder, I don’t typically recommend this course of police action however this is a unique situation.” 

“Sir?”

“I want you to use whatever channels you have available. Legal or -- otherwise. Use the boys in forensics to your advantage. See if you can get that report and keep this ‘eyes only.”

I raised an eyebrow at the request. It’s not everyday your boss asks you to operate in the gray. Then it clicked.

“You want to keep this hush-hush.”

“I want to keep the reputation of this precinct and my vice unit intact,” he replied cryptically. I could only nod and watch as he slowly left for his car. I took an opposite path. There was a humming in my head that I wanted to knock loose with a stroll.

Flanked by rows of white crosses on green hills I continued along the pathway and suddenly saw a familiar flash of red. She was standing at a simple headstone, adjusting a small arrangement of flowers. Out of respect I waited until she stepped away onto the path before I approached.

“Excuse me,” I called from behind with a casual wave of my hand. When she looked over her shoulder I knew it was her.

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry to bother you, miss,” I began but clammed up when I saw those pools of blue. In that instant, that split second, it’s like I forgot the damn English language. My feet kept moving and I tried to say something.

“It’s no bother,” she said, thankfully.

“Are you by chance a nurse at Washington General?” I finally sputtered as we stopped walking. She nodded then thought for a moment, her arms hugged her petite frame.

“You look familiar,” she said with a delicately pointed finger, “Have we met before?” 

“We have,” I replied. She cautiously moved closer to size me up. She surveyed my uniform and I felt like I was back in the barracks.

“You were the -- detective, right? -- who worked on a last name basis?”

“That’s my calling card. The name’s Mulder,” I said, “Remind me yours?”

“Dana Scully,” she said with a hint of a polite smile.

Scully. There it was. The stray thread was pulled and unraveled the memory of her name, each and every letter. She continued, 

“How’s your shoulder?”

“Almost back to my pitching prime.” I replied as I gave it a roll. I had to watch myself with this one. Memory like a steel trap. Her head tilted curiously to the side. 

“You clean up nice.” There was a quick flush to her cheeks as she took a small step back, wishing that remark stayed to herself. I smiled and now it was my turn to shift gears.

“I saw you laying down some flowers.” I said, curiosity getting my proverbial cat. Her lips pressed together. 

“My father,” she said, “He is - was - a captain in the Navy. It was six years ago; Midway. I like to keep his flowers fresh if I can.” 

“I’m sorry to hear that,” I replied with the only thing I could muster. Her statement was simple but knocked the wind out of my sails. Scully dipped her head and nodded. She then asked,

“Do you have someone here?”

“I’ve got a couple guys from my company, though I don’t visit too often. But today was my partner.”

“Oh,” she said softly, “It’s a funny state of the world when you can have a conversation about who you lost as easy as asking ‘how’s the weather.’”

For a moment I had nothing to say. A thousand scenarios ran through my head. I wanted to know more, I wanted to know everything about her. There was a natural beauty of course but something about her mind reeled me in. I cleared my throat. This chat was on the verge of getting cozy but seemed out of place in the current setting.

“May I walk you to your car?” 

“Thank you but I’ll be fine. My sister is waiting for me. Besides, we only just met.” A smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth.” 

Playing coy, I liked that.

“Well then, good day Miss Scully.” 

“Good day Mr. Mulder.” She shook my hand and lingered for a moment. “If you’re ever in Georgetown look me up. Hopefully we can meet again.” 

“I sincerely hope so,” I said. She turned heel and left me on the path. The curve of her pencil skirt, a flutter of the hem, the lines of her smart blouse made the goodbye feel less permanent. I listened to a breeze sweep through the tree line then I backtracked to where I was parked. 

I needed to get out of this uniform.

-------

Hegal Place Alexandria, VA

My apartment felt stale. I forced open a window to let in some fresh air. In the wardrobe hung one clean, pressed dress shirt along with my police dress blues. Of course the only shirt remaining was the one I wore the night Spender was killed. The good thing about an old jaded dry cleaner is you get quality work and little questions. I sipped my coffee and remembered I might have a vacation shirt stashed away in a drawer. As I donned the new shirt I heard the phone ring. I was waiting for a call from the boys in forensics who were a little too eager to give me a hand. 

“Mulder? It’s Frohike.”

“What have you found?”

“As you know, Langley and I were able to fish out a casing from the bathroom stall door, the back wall and a sneaky little devil in the bar. Turns out these paired nicely with the one lodged in Spender’s abdomen.”

“Who’d the weapon belong to?”

“Carlo Lodi.” Frohike asked. I scanned through the mugshot portfolio in my head. There he was. A hulking brute nicknamed The Titan who was quick with a fist and a trigger.

“Yeah. He’s one of Vincenti’s favorite enforcers.”

“We’ve seen his handiwork before,” Frohike continued, “He leaves a real pretty signature, although he’s usually a little more precise. Execution style seems to be his forté.”

“That’s what I thought when I was at the scene. I still don’t know if he intended to take me out as well.”

“Just like you to get in the way, Mulder.” There was a chuckle in the other end of the phone.

“Hey Frohike, has the final report come in from the M.E.?” 

“Ah, funny you should mention that. I have a preliminary copy and it shows that there was heroin in his system.”

“Shit,” I stated after a pause.

“What is it?”

“It means Krycek was right.”

[joeybelle]

Starlight - Chapter 25

Relationship: Cassian Andor x Original Female Character

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: NSFW, Sexual Content, Strong language

Size: 8600

---

Cora woke up completely disoriented. The world was spinning rapidly and a couple of moments had to pass before it stabilized enough for her to realize that she wasn’t in fact moving, and it was just one of the side effects of irresponsible drinking. But that wasn’t the main problem.

The first problem was the darkness. It was pitch black and she hadn’t slept in complete darkness since she’d moved to Yavin. Her eyes were wide open, staring into the nothingness, feeling lost. She knew that even in case of a power outage, the batteries in Ben’s tank would still last for at least a few days. Second, this was definitely not her bed. Not only was the mattress different, but the sheets felt odd against her skin. She splayed her fingers, trying to take in as much of her environment as possible without giving away that she was awake. She had no idea where she could have ended up. Even the vents that constantly pumped air sounded different.

She just laid there unmoving for a couple of minutes, eyes wide trying to adjust to the darkness, but in the end she gathered all her courage to start feeling around. Her throat felt dry and irritated and she really needed to pee, so she had to find out where she was and if it was safe to go look for a bathroom.

She extended her arm and started exploring. Her heart almost jumped out of her chest when she realized that someone was laying next to her in bed, fast asleep. It should have crossed her mind that if she wasn’t in her own bed, it probably belonged to someone else. And it would have been pretty plausible for that someone to still be occupying it. But the feeling of his warm skin against the palm of her hand was so familiar that she instinctively relaxed, even before fully registering that the man next to her was in fact the one and only, Captain Andor.

Cora let out a sigh of relief that quickly turned into a silent laughter. She was a fool. She should have realized the instant she woke up that this was Cassian’s bed because it smelled like him, intoxicatingly so, even with the tang of alcohol covering almost everything else. Panic had taken over for a moment and she froze, as usual.

But why did it stink like alcohol and why was she in Cassian’s bed?

Once she was fully awake the memories flooded back. She’d taken a couple of days off knowing that, as always, she wouldn’t be able to focus on anything on her mother’s death anniversary. Especially since the nights leading to it had been terrible. She hadn’t planned on drinking but she’d woken up shaking in the middle of the night and had trouble going back to sleep. She felt like shit in the morning, and then it even got worse as the day proceeded. So she decided it was time to properly mourn, get this out of her system and hopefully be able to sleep better after. Or at least, feel like shit because of the hangover. She grabbed her bottle of Corellian brandy and hid from everyone on the platform outside, fully determined to finish it by herself. She wondered if she’d managed.

Her memory was a little foggy, but to her surprise she only seemed to have completely blacked out at the end, cause she had no recollection as to how she got in this unfamiliar room. Or she’d fallen asleep, she wasn’t sure. But she remembered Cassian coming to look for her, she remembered telling him the story and the sadness on his face as he listened. She was really happy that he’d come, it helped ease her mind knowing that he was back home, safe.

She inched closer and hugged him, kissing him softly on the cheek. He shifted a little under her touch and Cora froze, hoping that he wouldn’t wake up.

“Morning,” he mumbled, and Cora sighed. “You’re up already?”

“I woke up to pee,” she replied in all honesty and Cassian chuckled, a sound that filled her with warmth.

“Did you find the bathroom?”

“I didn’t want to wake you up,” she said, stretching. “And it’s so cozy in here anyway.” Cassian laughed and turned on a light on the nightstand above their heads. Cora blinked a few times, adjusting to the light.

His room was a lot smaller than hers, Cora noticed looking around. There was a bed, a desk and a chair, a wardrobe and a door that she supposed lead to a refresher. In fact, it was pretty standard for a single room, but Cora had gotten so used to her roomy living space that she sometimes had to remind herself that it had been built with more people in mind than just her.

“I’ll be back,” she said, pecking Cassian’s lips before getting out of bed and heading for the refresher.

Cassian’s room was exactly how she imagined it: neat, simple, with little things that made it personal. There was a pair of old, used boots in a corner of the room, his blue parka was hanging on one side of the door, and there was a blaster rifle leaning on the wall, next to his desk. His desk was also pretty neat, much cleaner than hers. The only things in sight were a datapad, a couple of military strategy books stacked in a corner, and a blaster pistol. Nothing was out of order besides the pile of clothes thrown on the floor.

Cora looked down at what she was wearing: one of Cassian’s shirts, she assumed, and her underwear. She had no idea how or when she’d changed.

“Did we… you know?” she asked, hearing Cassian outside the bathroom. She didn’t mind if they did, but she was annoyed at the lack of memory.

“No, you fell asleep on me,” he answered. “I had to fight you to get you changed.”

“Figures,” she mumbled. “Why does everything stink like brandy? And why am I so sticky?”

“Because you insisted on baptizing us both with what was left in the bottle,” he laughed, poking his head though the open door. Cora groaned, hiding her face in her palms. “Melshi would be proud, you know.”

“No, please! Don’t mention that devil,” she feigned indignation. “You should have kicked me into the shower last night, you shouldn’t have let me soil your sheets.”

“Doesn’t matter, they needed changing anyway. How are you feeling?”

“Surprisingly not as bad as I’d expected,” she said, washing her hands. “I mean I’m somewhat dizzy and my head hurts a bit, but other than that I’m fine. Jet juice was far worse than this and I never drank this much.” She was dehydrated like a raisin. Her mouth was really dry and her stomach a bit disgruntled, but she’d expected to be puking her guts out and wishing an early death after pulling a stunt like that. Surprisingly, none of that had happened yet.

“Yeah, jet juice is terrible. At least the Corellian stuff is high quality. Here, drink this,” he said, handing her a bottle of water.

“Thanks, I was just gonna ask you for something to drink,” she said, taking the bottle to her lips and drinking greedily. “You’re a lifesaver.”

Cassian smiled. He was only dressed in his underwear, his hair sticking awkwardly in all directions, looking sticky and matted. He must have been right when he said she baptised them both, her hair felt and smelled terrible too. She noticed a red and purple bruise on his fingers when she handed him an empty bottle.

“What happened to your hand?” she asked, catching his wrist between her fingers before he had the time to hide it.

“”Just a bruise,” he said, looking embarrassed. “Hammered it yesterday. It’s no big deal.”

Cora let go of his hand, but only after making sure that he was indeed telling the truth. He’d be ok with just a bacta patch and a kiss, for now.

“What’s the time?” she asked, once Cassian returned to the bedroom.

“Very early. It’s still dark outside.”

“Oh.” Her perception of time was completely screwed. She had no idea when she started drinking or when she eventually stopped, but she had vague memories of a sunset. Or she might have dreamt that, she had no idea. “You should go back to sleep, then. Is it okay if I take a shower in the meantime?”

“Yeah, take your time,” he said, picking up some clothes off the floor. “I’ll just tidy up a bit.”

Cora watched him from the bathroom door. She could see a couple more bruises on his skin, but nothing life threatening so she decided this wasn’t the right time to pester him about them. Instead, she allowed herself to be happy that he was back home, in far better condition than other times. She wanted to make the most out of the time spent together, because she never knew when he’d be sent back.

“Or... you could join me if you don’t plan on sleeping,” she offered with a cheeky grin on her lips. Cassian stopped halfway through picking up the clothes on the floor. “Since I doused you in brandy, I might as well help clean you up.”

Cassian smirked and dropped the clothes in the same spot. It seemed they weren’t a priority anymore as he walked towards Cora. His pace was slow, but determined, and suddenly he didn’t remind her of the cute, fuzzy rodent she used to play with when she was a kid. No, he looked like something much more dangerous, something darker, and the thrill was making her belly squirm. Cora didn’t know if she was still drunk or not, but her face flushed in a matter of seconds, and she could feel herself becoming quite lightheaded. Anticipation was making her heart beat faster as she stepped backwards into the cramped refresher, Cassian following suit.

He didn’t wait around, but grabbed the hem of her shirt and in one fluid motion pulled it over her head. Cora shivered when the air hit her skin, but it wasn’t just the cold that was giving her goosebumps. Cassian was admiring her with a hungry look in his eyes, like he’d been starving for her and wasn’t able to restrain himself anymore.

“That didn’t take much convincing,” she laughed, splaying her hands on his chest.

“I didn’t think I’d have to play hard to get,” he said, taking a quick step forward, closing the gap between them and pinning her to the wall.

“You weren’t that easy to get either… historically speaking.” Cora smiled cheekily and sucked in a breath as her breasts pressed against him, her nipples perking up at the contact.

Cassian kissed her jaw right under her ear. “You think so? I thought I was pretty easy.”

Cora nodded and snaked her hands around his neck, pulling him into a long, languid kiss. “You were a nightmare.”

Oh, how she’d missed his touch, his kisses on her jaw, his scent. She’d gotten so used with him being grounded and sharing a bed almost every night that the moment he had to leave once again, the absence was almost physically painful. So she promised herself to make the most of their time spent together, to enjoy every brief touch, every fleeting kiss. Her fingers tangled in his hair as he kissed down her neck, pulling gently to guide him where she wanted his lips. He was obediently following her guidance, kissing, licking and nibbling at the soft skin, before going back up to claim her lips.

Cassian’s hips pressed into hers and she could feel his growing arousal through the thin material of their undergarments. Her hand dropped between them, slowly massaging his cock, feeling it twitch at her touch.

Cassian was patient, almost annoyingly so. He didn’t rush to undress her, instead focused on what was already in front of him. He brushed his lips over her right nipple, slowly kneading her soft flesh, while leaning into her hand for a little more pressure.

Cora hissed once his mouth closed over her nipple, sucking gently. “Should we actually shower?” she asked, a little out of breath. “Before we become too busy to care about that?”

“Mhm,” he mumbled, a bit reluctant to move his lips from her breast, but hitting a switch on the wall anyway.

It was a bit of a shock when the water hit her skin, but it wasn’t entirely unpleasant. She was still pretty dehydrated so she wondered if she could absorb some moisture through her skin like some sort of amphibian. They fiddled a little with the temperature, Cora yelping and giggling whenever it was too hot or too cold, but in the end they found a setting that they both enjoyed. She took off her wet underwear, something both of them forgot to do before turning the water on.

“You know, this reminds me of Samarkand,” she said, slipping her thumbs under the waistband of his boxers and pulling them off. Her heart skipped a beat; the excitement of seeing him fully naked before her hadn’t diminished no matter how often they slept together. “But I think there was even less space on your ship,” she added, trying to hide her blush.

Cassian chuckled. “Yeah, that one’s smaller,” he said, looking around. He squirted some shampoo from the wall dispenser and started shampooing his hair.

“I really didn’t mind the lack of space,” she smiled, spreading some shower gel on his body instead of her own. She had a feeling they wouldn’t be doing much washing, because her fingers kept tracing the outline of his muscles down to his cock instead of focusing on the task at hand. Cassian seemed a little less distracted, taking some more shampoo and starting to wash her hair too.

“Is that so?”

“Mhm,” she purred, closing her eyes and leaning into his touch like a cat looking for affection. His fingers felt so good on her scalp, gently massaging circles into her skin as she left her soapy hands wander up and down his torso. He brushed his lips over hers before going in for a proper kiss. She could taste the faint aroma of shampoo that washed over his face from time to time, but it didn’t matter.

The only thing that mattered was him and the closeness between them, and how good it felt when he let his hands brush down her neck, spreading the perfumed foam all over her shoulders. What mattered were the deep, hungry kisses that meant more than a thousand unspoken words.

Eventually, the shower was forgotten. Cassian had pinned Cora to the wall, hands above her head, kissing and licking across her collarbone, leaving angry red spots whenever he sucked a little to hard. The water automatically turned off at some point, but neither of them noticed, too lost in the heat of the moment to give a damn about what was going on around them.

His fingers inside her were drawing restrained gasps of pleasure from her parted lips. By now he knew her by heart, his fingers almost instinctively finding her most sensitive spots. His palm pressing against her clit was making her tremble, and she kept thrusting her hips forward to meet the movement of his hand. She moaned when his lips closed over her nipple, sucking gently, her mind becoming cloudier with every flick of the tongue, with every curl of his fingers inside.

The tension was rapidly building inside her and it didn’t take long for Cassian’s expert fingers to take her over the edge, her nerves on fire. When he let go of her hands, she let herself slide down to her knees, her legs too wobbly to sustain her weight. She was breathing fast and shivering all over from her orgasm and as she peeked up, she saw Cassian looking at her with a very smug smile on his lips.

“Very pleased with ourselves, are we?” she laughed.

“A bit,” he replied, grinning.

“Well, you should be. A bit.”

She looked him in the eye when she took him in her hand and gave the head a tentative lick. The smug smile vanished in an instant, something more primal taking its place. His hands went to the wall for support and Cora snickered, fully aware that if he knew how to push her buttons, she knew how to make him lose his composure too.

No matter how restrained Cassian usually was, he didn’t try to put up a front when it came to sex. While he wasn’t really vocal, Cora could easily tell when she did the right thing. From the twitch of his cock when she licked the underside to the almost inaudible hiss that escaped his mouth when she took him in her mouth, trying to fit as much as she could without gagging, he was really easy to read. The ridge between his eyebrows accentuated as she flicked her tongue on the head, tasting his precum.

She liked seeing him like that, on the verge of losing all composure, knowing that she was the one making him feel that way. It was one of the very few instances when Cassian dropped his mask completely, letting himself be vulnerable and open, so she kept her eyes open, enjoying the look of complete surrender on his face.

She could feel the tension in his thighs as he tried not to push back into her throat knowing she didn’t like it. Cora did her best to quicken the pace and give him the release he so desperately needed, but Cassian stopped her. It seemed like he wasn’t gonna be as patient anymore, as he helped her up and turned her around to face the wall. Cora brought her hands forward for support and spread her legs to give him better access. She looked over her shoulder, a lascive smile playing on her lips as he hastily positioned himself behind her.

He entered her in one quick thrust of his hips, filling her completely, almost knocking the air out of her. Cora sucked in a breath as he placed soft kisses on her shoulder, allowing her to get used to the sensation of him filling her. It was more a case of mental adjusting, though, her body already ready to have him, but she still enjoyed the tiny moment of stillness, the way their bodies connected and fit so deliciously together, before he started pumping into her.

His pace was rushed and a little erratic, but Cora enthusiastically met his thrusts. His wet skin was slapping against her butt, filling the tiny bathroom with lewd sounds that mixed with the silent gasps of pleasure that sometimes escaped their parted mouths. She was already lost in the pleasure he managed to bring forth. It seemed so easy for him to make her lose her mind, she felt like she was putty in his hands.

It didn’t take long for another orgasm to ripple through her entire body, leaving her lightheaded and breathless and terribly satisfied. He quickly followed, coming inside her with a low grunt, and hugging her tight, his face in the crook of her neck. For a moment, he rested his weight on Cora, completely spent. She entwined her fingers with his, just holding his hand for a while, before turning around and kissing him.

They stayed in the shower a few more minutes as they caught their breath, the warm water washing the sweat off their bodies. Cora had her eyes closed, clinging to Cassian’s frame, her nose touching the skin on his neck. He used the same standard shower gel everyone on base used, but somehow it smelled different on his skin. She sighed, content.

“Do you want to get back in bed?” he said softly in her ear, turning the water off.

“Yeah,” she sighed, content.

Cassian broke away from the embrace long enough to find a towel and drape it over Cora’s shoulders. She smiled when he started drying her hair, she liked it when he took care if her. In exchange, she grabbed the edge of the towel and started patting some of the water dripping off his chest.

“When did you come back?” she asked, running her fingers over his skin along with the towel.

“Yesterday night.”

“How did your mission go?” He passed the edge of the towel over her cheek wiping a drop of water and then kissed the spot. He was silent and his face had gone back to the usually unreadable mask he was wearing in public, so Cora knew not push. “How’s your hand?” she asked instead.

“Pretty good, I’d say.” He lifted his arm to let her look. The injuries he’d gotten on Samarkand had healed properly, especially since he’d been given time to rest. The other good thing about him being grounded—apart from spending a lot of time with Cora—was that he’d been given time for his injuries to properly heal. But even so, injuries like that might still hurt from time to time.

“I’m glad,” she said, kissing his wrist.

Once they were both relatively dry he started looking through the closet for a change of clothes. Cora huffed, a little disappointed. She didn’t mind looking at him walk around butt naked all day long, but she guessed it was time for them to get dressed. She smiled when he handed the neatly stacked pile of clothes to her.

“I hope these fit you,” he said. “Yours are still damp. I’ll put them in a laundry bag and take them to the cleaners in the morning.”

“Thank you,” she said, putting on a shirt that barely covered her ass, and leaving the rest on the nightstand. She’d probably have to walk to her room dressed in his clothes, but if she left early enough no one would see her. Not that she cared if anyone knew about her and Cassian, but she didn’t want it to look like she was parading their relationship. “I didn’t know you were back. If I’d known I wouldn’t have…” The words died down when she tried saying them out loud. “I’m sorry that you had to see me like that,” she said, looking away, but Cassian’s hand cupped her chin and made her look up at him.

“Hey, it’s okay. There’s nothing to apologize for.” He kissed her, pulling her close to his chest. “Everyone has bad days. I’m sorry that I couldn’t do more for you.”

“You listened to my drunken ramblings, that’s enough for me.” She rested her head on his still naked shoulder, breathing in the scent of his skin.

“Don’t say that. It wasn’t just that,” he said, frowning slightly.

“Yeah, you’re right,” she sighed. “But I still shouldn’t have unloaded on you. You have enough things to worry about as it is.”

“I’ll always listen if you want me to. But I might not be the best equipped to help you.”

Cora lifted her head from his shoulder and looked at him. He seemed worried, the crease between his eyebrows pretty visible. She sighed. This was one of the reasons she hated talking about her past, because it always made people worry about her mental health and it annoyed her. Although most of the time she knew they only wanted the best for her, it always sounded patronizing. They never took into account that she was a doctor and she knew how to treat herself.

“I’m fine,” she said dryly, breaking out of his embrace, his touch suddenly overstimulating. “You don’t need to worry about me. I just needed to get drunk, blow some steam, get some things off my chest. I’ll be as good as new this time tomorrow. No more sulking, back to work!” She forced her face into a smile, but it wasn’t genuine. She turned her back to him and headed for the bed, hoping that he would drop the issue.

“Please,” he said, stopping her from advancing my snaking his arms around her chest and pulling her close, “don’t take it the wrong way. I just think you’d feel better if you’d talk to someone.”

“Yeah, I just did.” She tried escaping this embrace too, but as gentle as it felt, he was immovable. “And I feel better, so thanks for that.”

He was silent for a few moments, as if he was considering what to say. Cora could feel the tension in both of them, her own breathing resounding so loudly in the quiet room.

“I just don’t think self-medicating is the solution,” he eventually said, and Cora turned her head to look at him with a frown on her face.

“You know what, I really don’t feel like taking health advice from someone who slaps a bacta patch on a blaster wound and calls it a day,” she said, harshly.

Cassian dropped his arms and took a step back, and Cora felt out of balance without his warm chest pressed against her. It felt cold in more than one way. “I just thought you’d be more sensible than me,” he said, coldly, putting on a pair of boxers and climbing in bed.

Cora sighed and quickly followed, slipping into bed next to him before he got the chance to turn his back to her. She hated arguing with Cassian, but no matter how hard they tried, sometimes they still butted heads. His arm around her back and the kiss on her forehead told her that he wasn’t really mad. And neither was she. But it really pissed her off when people assumed that she wasn’t holding it together. She could handle this by herself, she’d done it for years and was still functional and didn’t like anyone poking their nose into her life and giving her advice. She knew what she had to do, she’d gone to medical school for this.

“Listen,” she said, propping herself onto her elbow, her tone a lot softer than before. “I’m sorry for snapping at you. I know you mean well, but I’m fine, honestly. I don’t want you to worry. I hate it when you worry.”

“What’s wrong with me worrying?” he said, frowning.

“That’s my job!” Cora brushed away a few strands of hair from his forehead.

“Then what would my job be?”

“I’m not sure, but you could start by kissing me.” Cassian’s face relaxed into a smile. He grabbed her waist and pulled Cora on top of him, making her straddle his hips. “Oh, you want me to do all the work? On my day off?” He was starting to get hard once again, she could feel him, but she didn’t mind going for another round.

She glanced at the clock on the nightstand. It was still so early it could be considered ‘late’, but she wasn’t feeling tired at all. Maybe it was the alcohol still in her veins (she doubted that her body had managed to filter it all so soon) or maybe because she blacked out early in the evening, or the shower, or the sex, but she felt really invigorated. She hated that she wasted a day off drinking her problems away when she could have spent it with Cassian, but there was nothing she could do about that now.

“Do you have to be at work tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” he mumbled, and for half a second he looked really dejected. Maybe he’d wished they could have spent a whole day together too.

“Can’t you take a day off?” she asked, a little unsure. She knew his work was crucial for the Rebellion, but she didn’t really know what it entailed. “I know a doctor who would give you medical leave if you asked nicely,” she added with a wink.

“You’d do that for me?” he asked, seeming really amused by the thought.

“Of course not,” Cora snorted. “I wouldn’t tarnish my good name giving you fake medical leave. But I know Doctor Crane would.” Cassian laughed and pulled at the hem of the shirt Cora was wearing, prompting her to take it off. “Well, that didn’t stay on long,” she joked, throwing it on the floor.

The way Cassian was looking at her, like he hadn’t seen her stark naked just a little while back, was already making her hot. The smirk in the corner of his lips as his hands went to her hips, caressing her sides was making her belly squirm. She was idly rubbing her crotch against his cock, teasing him, making him grow harder with every roll of her hips.

She leaned down, kissing him lazily. “I missed you,” she whispered against his lips and kissed him harder, not letting him say anything in reply.

He pressed his cock against her crotch, eliciting a gasp from Cora. She tangled her hands into his hair, deepening the kiss as he pulled her closer, her breasts pressing into his chest. His skin feeling hot against hers. His fingers on her back were gently tracing her scar, the skin still a little more sensitive than the rest, despite the bacta patches she kept putting on it.

She sat up, prompting him to lift his hips enough for her to be able to push his boxers down his hips, revealing his cock. She slowly sunk down on him, moaning as he filled her up, enjoying the familiar feeling of him stretching her out.

It was lazy and almost completely involuntary the way their bodies moved together, but they fit so well. There was no urgency, no pressure. Cora was setting the pace while Cassian was looking at her with heavy lidded eyes, his hands on her thighs. He wasn’t trying to rush her, he just caressed her skin gently.

His touch felt so good. He was caring and gentle, and he seemed to really want to slow down and savor the moment. Cora loved it. She’d been so used to rushed sex in dark, cramped corners, that only now was she learning what it felt like to really enjoy your partner, to take the time to know them. To feel them deeper, on a spiritual level.

Because on the physical level, she was already pretty close to paradise. She didn’t know what exactly about Cassian made her so easily aroused, but she was thankful. She got to experiment intimacy and human closeness to another level. She got to look him in the eye as she came, clutching onto his shoulders for support, trembling slightly from the intensity of it all. Then got to feel him tense and fall apart in her hands once he found his own release.

She collapsed next to him, her nerves on fire. She laid on her back for a few minutes, her arm covering her eyes, enjoying the feeling of lethargy that came after a good orgasm. Cassian was silent next to her, still catching his breath, but the silence was a comfortable one.

However, he was overthinking. She could easily tell, once she turned her head to look at him, by the serious expression on his face and the gaze glued to the ceiling. She snuggled closer to him, trying to figure out what was wrong..

“I know that frown,” she said, bringing her hand to his forehead, trying to gently brush away the crease. “What’s bothering you? Is it top secret work stuff?” she asked, but he didn’t reply right away. Moments like these happened on occasion and although Cora would ask, she’d usually get a vague answer.

“I was just thinking about what you told me last night.” He was still looking at the ceiling and Cora sighed. “Do you remember everything you said?”

The jerk knee reaction was to avoid talking about this altogether, but she realized that he deserved more than silence after she subjected him to her drunken confessions. “I think so? I think I blacked out at the end, but everything until that point is still somewhat clear.”

“Do you remember asking me if I’d have to report back on this?” he asked, tilting his head just enough to be able to glance at her. Cora’s heart skipped a bit. Yeah, she remembered that very well.

“I do,” she said, taking a deep breath. “I know I put you in a difficult position,” she forced the words out of her mouth, “and I’m sorry. I should have kept my mouth shut.”

“No,” he said, full of determination. “You needed someone to talk to and it’s my job as a… it’s part of my job to listen.”

“Reporting back is also part of your job,” she said trying hard not to sound dejected. “You shouldn’t have to be put in the position to choose between me and the Rebellion.”

“What?” He propped himself onto an elbow to look at her. “Who said I had to choose between anything?”

Ok, she realized she was being a little overdramatic, but it kinda felt like that. She knew what withholding information could do to someone in the military and considering how much Draven hated her, siding with her might very well end Cassian’s career.

“I don’t have to choose between anything,” he continued, but the apologetic expression on his face made her heart sink. “But I will have to ask if you’d be willing to let me report on some of the things you said yesterday.” The moral battle Cassian was fighting was written all over his face, and Cora hated that she was the cause for it.

“Yeah,” she replied, and felt surprisingly relieved by it. As time passed she’d gotten more involved in the Rebellion and she’d started to feel the pressure of the things she knew and didn’t divulge. She wasn’t sure she had any information they might consider useful, but she still felt like she wasn’t being totally honest. “As long as you leave out the… circumstances in which you got the information.”

“Of course.”

“What do you think is of interest?” She doubted Draven had use for any details regarding her childhood trauma or Admiral Enoch’s bad parenting.

“Anything you might know about Krennic. And Galen Erso.”

Hearing Krennic’s name brought out a new wave of anger, but she had no objection in telling him everything she knew. She’d be very happy if anything she told them could eventually contribute to his demise. The bastard deserved it.

“I don’t know much about Krennic,” she said. “He worked, well, still works with my father I suppose, but I wouldn’t call them friends. I think they were somewhat closer when my mom was alive, I think, or I might have seen him often because I was living on Corinthia, but as I grew up we’d only really meet at formal events. I wish I could tell you more, but I don’t really know much.”

“It’s alright,” he said with a long, heavy kiss on her temple, that made her feel a little better. “What can you tell me about the report on your mother’s death? The project she was working on?”

That sent an unpleasant shiver down her spine and she pressed herself closer to his chest. His voice had the same sharp tone he used for interrogations such a long time ago, but Cora dismissed it as job conditioning. Somehow it sounded weird, considering that they were both naked and they’d just had sex. But now that she thought about it, he would have had a better chance of loosening her tongue when she was imprisoned if he would have thoroughly fucked her before getting to the questioning.

“Hmmm… I’m not sure I have much valuable information about that. I was more interested in what it said about my mom, didn’t care as much about the technical details. But I could try and write down for you everything I remember? My mind is really hazy right now.”

“Don’t worry about it now,” he said. “We can talk about it another time, okay? You’d better try to get some sleep. It’s still early.”

“I’m not tired,” she said, looking at the clock and scrunching her nose. “Yeah, we’ll talk another time,” she said, resting her head on his chest and yawning, despite her previous statement. “I’ll tell you everything you want to know,” she continued, “but I don’t want Draven interrogating me. I don’t like him, he doesn’t like me, and it would just end up in a fight. I’d rather you ask the questions.”

“Of course,” he said, and she could feel his arm around her shoulders tense a little. “I wouldn't let Draven be shit to you anyway. I’m sorry for ever letting him do that to you. But things have changed since then.”

“Yes, a lot of thing have changed,” she agreed. They they weren’t enemies for one, and they weren’t strangers either. She felt like she’d grown a lot since she’d met him, and she was really thankful that he’d barged into her life and changed it completely.

While in the beginning the only thing Cora wanted was to save her skin, gradually she’d gotten more and more invested in the Alliance’s cause. And it wasn’t just because she was in love with Cassian or for her friends’ sake, or because she felt guilty for her and her family’s contribution in this war; no, she was doing it because she knew this was the right thing to do. She wasn’t trying to run anymore, not from herself, not from her father or the Empire.

She knew that Cassian had played a huge role in this. It wasn’t just her love for him, but he inspired her to be better, to fight for what she believed in and to help the ones she cared about. He was the main reason she’d stayed on base even when it had gotten hard and the only thing she’d wanted to do was to give up and run. He’d been her pillar. Somehow, her love for him had made her braver.

“I know this isn’t an excuse,” he said, and Cora could feel the uncertainty in his voice, “I know I shouldn’t have acted the way I did anyway, but It feels even worse now that we’re… here.” He pulled her a little closer, and Cora hugged his chest. “I wouldn’t have done that if I’d ever thought… But I never dreamed that we’d end up… here.”

“You mean, in your bed?” Cora asked with a cheeky grin on her face, tilting her head to look at him.

“Well, yeah,” he said with a breathy laugh.

“What? You didn’t think we’d end up dating?” she said and her heart skipped a beat, so she tried hiding her nervousness behind a joke. “You didn’t like my flirting style? Insults work every time.” Cassian laughed, his chest vibrating under her fingers.

“No,” he said, brushing a stand of hair from her face, his eyes a bit melancholic. “I didn’t think we’d end up dating.” She didn’t remember ever hearing him talk about dating before, and it both excited and scared her. Maybe things had really changed. And maybe it was time they both acknowledged it. “I’d hoped… not at first, but as time passed, I’d hoped we could...maybe.” He laughed, passing a hand over his eyes. “Never thought it would actually happen.”

Cora shifted so that now she was laying on his chest, looking directly at him. “Why not?” she asked, genuinely surprised. She hadn't known if he liked her for some time, but she was pretty sure that she’d been pretty damn obvious about it.

“I don’t know,” he said, brushing his thumb over her cheek. “I guess I’ve just thought I’d always be alone.”

“Well, you’re not alone now,” she said, smiling, kissing his chest above his heart.

“No, I’m not.” He smiled back, tangling his fingers into her hair, holding her close, his arms tightening around her in a protective gesture.

He seemed a bit lost in thought for a while, so Cora settled back into his embrace. It was uncommon for him to talk about himself and what he felt, especially when it involved relationships. But he’d also brought her to his quarters, and even though she could argue that it was just for the sake of convenience, it was still a step forward. He’d slowly, but progressively opened up to her as time passed.

“About this...” he eventually broke the silence, but didn’t finish the idea.

“About what?” she asked, lifting her head to look him in the eye. He seemed a little flustered, but Cora blamed it on the poor light playing tricks on her perception.

“About us?”

A shiver ran down Cora’s spine and she couldn’t really tell if it was a good or a bad feeling. “What about us?”

“Have you thought where this is going?”

She shrugged. “Not really. Forward I suppose?” She had no idea what prompted this whole conversation about their relationship and it was so out of the blue that it scared her a little. Usually these things ended up in a breakup—or at least that’s what she assumed—but there hadn’t been any signs that he might have been thinking about a breakup. She was a little confused. “Are you trying to ask me if I thought about our future?” she pressed, seeing as he didn't seem willing to share what he was thinking.

“Yeah.” He let out a relieved breath. “Do you ever think about our future?”

“Yeah. Sometimes.” She shrugged. “The future in general doesn't look very bright, but I don't know, you give me hope that there might be light at the end of the tunnel after all. Does that sound sappy?” she asked with a smile, and Cassian pressed a kiss on her forehead.

“No, it's not sappy. I think…” A insistent knock knock the door made him forget what he was saying. “Wait here,” he told her, climbing out of bed and putting on a pair of boxers and a shirt.

Cora sat up on the bed, wrapping herself in a sheet and trying to stay as far away from the door as possible. She watched him open it, the light pouring in from the hallway almost blinding. She couldn’t hear what they were talking, but the hushed conversation had a note of urgency that made Cora’s stomach contract painfully.

When he came back, he didn’t return to the bed, instead taking out some clothes from the closet and starting to get dressed. It seemed this was the abrupt end to their peaceful night spent together. Cora sighed, but she was resigned. This was his job, after all.

“That doctor’s note won’t do much good now, would it?” she asked, hopping off the bed and hugging Cassian from behind.

He stopped what he was doing and looked at her over his shoulder. “No, I have to go.” His voice was serious and a little sad.

“Did anything bad happen?”

“I don’t know,” he said, looking down and fidgeting with the buckle of the trousers he was holding in his hand. “I just have to go check something.”

Cora knew she wasn’t going to get more information than that, so she didn’t push it. But she couldn’t deny the sinking feeling that something terrible was about to happen. “I have a bad feeling about this,” she said, resting her forehead on his shoulder.

“Hey,” he said, turning around and holding her in his arms. “Nothing bad’s gonna happen. It’s just a routine mission,” he tried reassuring her, but she knew he was lying—none of his missions were ‘routine’. She smiled nonetheless. “I’ll cook for you when I come back,” he promised, tilting her head so he could kiss her.

“You better!” she said, stealing a couple more kisses. She was going to miss him, like she did every time he was away.

“You should stay here today, get some sleep,” he said, breaking the embrace to scribble a four-digit number on a piece of paper. “This is the access code, in case you wanna go in and out.”

Cora took the slip of paper and stared at it. “What if I make a mess in your absence?” she joked, trying to break the tension, but her voice sounded sad, even to her own ears.

“It needs some cleaning anyway,” he chuckled and went back to dress himself.

She watched in silence as he hurriedly got dressed, holding the sheet close to her body. Her heart ached thinking that in only a few minutes he’d be gone and only the gods could know what he was going to get himself into. She wanted to hug him tight, kiss him until her lips hurt, and tell him she loved him; ask him not to go, to stay a little longer. But she knew that wasn’t possible. So instead he kissed him lightly, taking a good look at him.

“Take care,” she whispered, his hands heavy on her hips as he held her to his chest, the jacket of his uniform feeling rough under her fingers. “Come back safe. I’ll be waiting for you.”

There was a determined look on his face as he nodded and kissed her one last time, before saying goodbye and taking his leave. The blast doors closed behind him, and Cora was left standing in the middle of his room, clutching a piece of paper in her hand.

She considered getting dressed and leaving his quarters right away, hoping there would be less people to witness her walk of shame in Cassian’s clothes, but then decided that she’d rather follow Cassian’s advice and get some sleep. After all, nobody really seemed to care about what her and Cassian were doing, because although she’d been scared of rumours being spread, no one seemed to be talking. Or at least, they seemed to be able to hide it from her, which was the only thing she asked for.

She yawned, stretched her aching muscles, and crawled back into the bed that still held some of Cassian’s warmth and fell asleep almost instantly. She woke up a few hours later, with a hangover.

Not the mother of all hangovers, no, but her stomach still did a double flip when she climbed out of Cassian’s bed. The clock on the nightstand showed that it was almost noon. She only slept that long after a night shift, but if she thought about it, the fatigue level was comparable. She lazily went to the bathroom and then got dressed. What would happen if someone knocked on Cassian’s door, she wondered, only to find her half dressed in his clothes, in the middle of his room.

Right now almost everyone must have been crowded in the mess hall, leaving the hallways deserted, so it might be the best time to leave unseen. Alternatively, she could spend the whole day napping and rummaging through Cassian’s things and leave at night, but her stomach was rumbling and even though right now it was just disgruntled from the excess of alcohol, she knew that at some point she’d have to eat.

She opened the door and was hit in the face by the light coming from the hallway. Her eyes started seeing stars and she could sense the imminent onset of a headache. She groaned and almost went back inside, but instead let the doors close behind her and headed for the med bay.

She looked at her reflection in the glass doors: she was a mess. She looked like a ghost, and a very unhealthy one, with dark circles under her eyes, dry skin and lifeless hair. But what else could she expect after drinking so much? She liked the clothes though. They didn’t fit her properly, after all Cassian wasn’t the same size as her, but he still managed to find something that she could wear out in public for whatever long it took her to go down a few levels. She didn’t even mind the laundry bags she was carrying—the least she could do to pay him back was to drop them at the washer’s.

She sneaked into the med bay hoping no one would see her raid the medicine cabinet. Not that she was doing anything illegal, but she really didn’t want to give any explanations, especially to Aidan, who was covering her shift for the day. Luckily, there didn’t seem to be anyone in sight.

“Party hard last night?” she heard Dr. Crane’s voice from behind her, and her heard almost broke out of her chest. How could these people walk so silently?

“It wasn’t a party, but it was definitely hard,” she groaned, picking a tonic and some painkillers from the cabinet. This was going to make her feel better, she hoped. Only after Dr. Crane started snickering did she realize what she’d said. “The drinking I mean,” she laughed, embarrassed.

“Of course, of course,” the doctor laughed. “I like your style this morning,” he said, and Cora could feel her cheeks starting to burn. “Cassian’s uniform suits you.”

“Well,” she mumbled, closing the cabinet and getting ready to leave the galaxy, “accidents happened.” She lifted the laundry bags, but she had no idea what he got from that, nor did she care, she just wanted to be back in her room, away from people, nursing her hangover. “I’ll be off, then,” she said with a goofy smile, heading for the door.

“Make sure to eat something,” he yelled after her, but Cora just waved goodbye, before nearly colliding with Aidan who seemed to be returning from lunch.

“Morning,” she said on a high pitched tone. It really wasn’t the best day to keep bumping into people, but it was her fault for trying to sneak into dangerous places.

“Morning? It’s noon,” he laughed, but she could feel him eyeing her suspiciously.

“I have no excuse,” she shrugged and hurried out of there, before he could ask her about her disheveled state.

She almost ran back to her quarters, but luckily didn’t bump into anyone else on the way to the underground level. The adrenaline seemed to boost the hangover symptoms, so she drank the tonic and a painkiller, hoping for the best.

She changed into her own clothes after taking a quick shower, planning to spend the rest of the day until dinner huddled in blankets, reading something on her datapad, when she heard a knock on her door. She groaned, hoping it wasn’t an emergency, because drinking the night before had really taken a toll on her.

“Good afternoon, Doctor Enoch,” one of the soldiers greeted her. The serious look on his face sent a shiver down her spine. “Senator Mothma has requested your presence in the war room.”

“Is it an emergency?” Cora asked, the hair on the back of her neck standing on end. She wondered if she should change into her medical uniform.

“I don’t know,” he replied with a shrug. “I haven’t been told anything. But it seemed a bit urgent.”

“Alright,” she said, and stepped out of her room, the blast doors closing behind her. “Lead the way.”

She kept biting her lip on the way up, anxiety growing with every step she took. The feeling that something bad was about to happen was once again overwhelming, and Cora had to make a superhuman effort to keep a straight face.

The war room was full of people, but none of them paid any attention to her walking in. Last time she’d walked in there was a group of people waiting for her to be interrogated. This time their eyes were glued to different screens and no one stopped what they were doing, not even to say hello. She felt a shiver run down her spine.

“Doctor Enoch,” Mon Mothma said, coming into her line of sight followed closely by Draven. “We’re sorry to have demanded your presence on your day off, but we’ve been told that you might have some information on Galen Erso.”

---

Masterlist in bio

[visceralcoma]

Aria Loiza De Sardet

Finally filled out my own questionnaire for my first De Sardet

What is De Sardet’s given name?

Aria Loiza De Sardet

What is the name Arelwin would have given De Sardet (assuming Petrus told them and its different than their given name)?

Arelwin never got to see her, much less name her. The Nauts named her instead. But in another life, Seren.

What was their relationship with Constantin like when they were teens?

Antagonistic. When they were kids they got along, but something changed in their teens when Loiza did exceptionally better than Constantin at everything. From academics to martial to politics and even social. Constantin withdrew from her, growing resentful that she was better than him at everything. Constantin’s resentment grew when he eavesdropped on his father and Sir De Courcillion and learned Loiza wasn’t even related to him and that his father was intending on wedding them together.

Did your De Sardet and Constantin ever have a fight? If so, about what?

When Constantin’s resentment of Loiza exploded, he shouted that she wasn’t even his real cousin. He said it to hurt her specifically. Unbeknownst to Constantin, she’d always suspected that she wasn’t really related to him given how much different she looked. And so she fled while crying and that’s when Constantin knew he’d went too far.

What is a special heartwarming memory of your De Sardet and Constantin?

Sir De Coucillion set Constantin to apologize to Loiza as she had locked herself away. It took much time but eventually when Loiza went a few days without eating or leaving the De Sardet apartments, he finally went to apologize for his words – now worried she was wasting away. He told her how he felt with her doing so much better than him, and his father preferring her over him. Stated how he was just another shadow he lived under. Only this one was a living one, as his brother was long dead. Loiza then revealed her own doubts about her place in the family. That even though she was the General De Sardet’s daughter, it was like she had no resemblance to her mother Princess Livie. And she suspected she was a bastard. With the air clear, Loiza promised to help Constantin with his studies and Constantin would stop resenting her.

What was the relationship like with Princess Livie (their adoptive mother)?

Very close. Even though Loiza felt like she might not actually be Livie’s daughter, she treasured her mother deeply and mourned with her when the diagnosis came back that she had the Malichor. Princess Livie view Loiza as the culmination of all the children she almost had but ultimately miscarried. A gift from her brother from the Island he had tried to colonize all those years ago.

Did De Sardet ever have a pet growing up? What happened to it?

There was a bird she inherited from General De Sardet. A Grey Al Saadian parrot. It was already forty years old when she took over care for it at the age of 8. Sadly it dies in her care but it lived a very long life and was her early exposure to losing a loved one. So when Livie was diagnosed, she was mentally prepared if anguished.

What was De Sardet’s relationship with their uncle (Constantin’s father)?

Close. Closer than Constantin and his father. Her uncle saw her like a pawn in his future plans and as a balm to Constantin’s rashness. He sought to marry her to Constantin, to temper him and reign him in. and also to be the driving force for the colonization of Tir Fradi. He had high expectations and so gave Sir Courcillion instruction to push her academically to reach her full potential. Loiza met each one head on. He often bought her gifts, commissioned swords and daggers for her use, and even had a custom gunsword made when she mastered both. He never pressured her to be like the other young ladies of court and indeed had her accompany him on many of his diplomatic and mercantile meetings when she grew older.

Did De Sardet ever get into trouble with their mother and uncle? Were they a frequent troublemaker?

She got into trouble once, when she broke under the pressures set before. It was revealed to her she would wed Constantin once colonization of the Island was underway. Though she didn’t hate her cousin – in fact she loved him. Loved him in the way they wished, but to be told she had to marry him as part of their plans, she revolted. Her sole act of rebellion and troublemaking was running away and finding the first brothel to deflower herself. But once there, she had no idea what she was doing and was nearly taken advantage of when mistaken for one of the working ladies.

For the first time since they were children, Constantin was the one to save her, revealing he was a frequent and high paying customer that he had a private room. There he sequestered her away. They spent the night and at her request he recommended one of the working gentlemen to her, someone he trusted.

Did De Sardet have many other friends?

Loiza had little friends given her schedule was packed most of the time. She had Constantin and a few acquaintances in court, no one else besides Constantin she would consider her friend.

How did they handle growing up with their mark? Did people mention it? Talk about? Treat them differently? How did De Sardet respond to them?

Poorly. As a kid, children called her mark a symptom of the Malichor and so they kept their distance from her. They neither wanted to be near her or play with her. As such she had a lonely childhood outside of her time with Constantin. Not that she had much time to play, for as soon as she was old enough her days were spend in study.

What are De Sardet’s favorite: food, color, music (genre/instrument), weather, season, and animal?

Food: A particular stone fruit from Al Saad, called a mango.

Color: Seagreen,

Music: Opera for the singing. She dreamed once of becoming a performer, but alas her uncle had other plans.

Weather: Rainy weather. It left the air cleaner back on the Continent, almost renewed and refreshed. On Tir Fradi, it was the same, but after each rain it was like she – herself – was rejuvenated. Like she’d taken a large drink of water.

Season: The end of winter. It feels like a fresh new beginning.

Animal: Birds. She has a liking to all the different sorts and has a collection of feathers from her uncle’s ‘friends’ who would try to win her favor, and thus her uncle’s ear, by giving her wild and exotic feathers from various birds.

What was their first thought of Vasco, Siora, Aphra, and Petrus when they met them?

Vasco: Capable, competent, if a little reserved. But beautiful.

Siora: She has a mark! Like me! Did father have an affair with someone from this island? Was father the first people to come to this island from the continent? Is this where I’m from?

Aphra: I could take the gun right out of her hands, but something in her gaze said not to. Determined, calculating, but not a killer unless pushed.  

Petrus: Just like one of uncle’s acquaintances in court. He wants something I can tell but what. He could prove useful though.

If they had one, who was De Sardet’s first kiss and/or love?

Constantin was her first kiss. It was a few months after Constantin had apologized for their big fight when Loiza was re-teaching him what Sir De Courcillion had covered in their dance lessons.  He was following her instructions perfectly when he started doing poorly. His hands were sweaty, and he stumbled over his feet. She didn’t understand why until when he nearly crashed them into a wall during a spin. She was getting up when the next moment he had pressed her against the wall, lips to hers and then he was stumbling back apologizing. She didn’t know what to make of it, as she was only thirteen and he fourteen, she carried on with the lesson.

Did De Sardet have any childhood/teen crushes on anyone? Describe how they realized it and how they behaved.

De Sardet didn’t have any crushes. Though she admired Kurt’s skill and ability it was more akin to hero worship, and though her first kiss was stolen by Constantin. It wasn’t until they were older did she love Constantin and he knew it, but neither acted on it in a silent act of rebellion against their parents. They both denied themselves because this was the one area they wanted to be free from their intrigue.

What subjects were their favorite to learn while being taught by Sir De Courcillion?

Music lessons. Being taught to sing was a passion she rarely got to express and so for as long as De Courcillion taught her it, she enjoyed it, but she quickly surpassed the level they would teach her. And though she continued to practice, it went nowhere. Instead she was encouraged to take an interest in other singers, and thus her love of the Opera was born.

What was their relationship with Kurt initially like when he became their bodyguard and/or when he became their Master of Arms?

When he became their Master of Arms, there was a bit of hero worship on Loiza’s end. He could fight and fight well. Though when he became their bodyguard as well, she tried to engage with him in discussion and had to excuse himself. Later he found her describing him as boorish. A word she regretted using as he would hold it over her head from that moment on for talking behind his back. She still feels guilty for calling him that, but Kurt won’t let her forget it. Especially when she playfully flirts with him.

What was Kurt’s initial assessment of De Sardet when he began teaching them to fight?

Graceful, crafty, and potentially deadly if given the chance. She’d be good for close combat and quick fights, but dreadful for cover and protecting herself. I’d give her a shield, but that would only slow her down. She can move faster than those wielding heavier weapons. Still, she needs to learn to parry. A heavier longer blade but not a long sword would do her well, but nothing too cumbersome. She’s got an aim not to be trifled with but shies away from guns due to the loud noise. A pistol on hand if she needs it but nothing more.

What did De Sardet specialize into first and why?

De Sardet specialized into the more technical aspects of combat. Swords, daggers, traps, explosives, and grenades and the art of subterfuge and misdirection. It was useful for her Uncle as when he entertained, she’d slip out and find what her Uncle needed in court in other cities. Eventually it became her preference.

What did they feel when they learned they were adopted and the circumstances behind it?

She knew it was something like this but she had imagined at least her father was actually her father, but instead it was all a lie. She was heartbroken and yet resolute. It was almost a relief to know, until it really sunk in what her “uncle” had done. Stolen a child and raised away all to be a piece, a way to get the Natives to concede to the Congregation. And her mother…Princess Livie an unwilling participant to his schemes but no less responsible – yet Loiza couldn’t fault her. She did the best she could. Instead all her anger directed at her “Uncle”.

[stars-that-shine-at-night]

If the Shoe Fits Park Jimin x Reader Ballet!Au

8  9  10  11  12  13  14  15

“Alright everyone two slow tendu, pique, sous ssus, plie, single foot pirouette.” The teacher snapped her fingers, while she walked around the room, inspecting all the students warming up.

“Miss Lee cleaner body line please.” The teacher said. Sweat streamed down Jimin’s back as he repeated the moments as best as he can, dreading the fact that he will have a private pas de deux practice with Miju today. If only he could drink. Meanwhile another girl was on his mind, perhaps a certain girl he knew was sitting at her desk shaping shoes. Jimin was so focused on the warm up exercises that he didn’t notice the piano stopped playing and the teacher stopped talking.

“Mister Park!” The teacher screamed for about the third time now. Jimin looked up at her through his dark sweaty bangs. “Master Geonsik would like to see you in his office, and since the class is almost over you may take your things.” Jimin nodded at the teacher and walked over to his bag. While he was taking off his slippers and putting on actual shoes the music and the teacher resumed. Jimin slung his bag over his shoulder and walked out of the dance room. Jimin tapped his knuckles against the wooden door of Master Geonsik’s office. Jimin pushed the door open when he was given permission to enter. “With all due respect Master Geonsik I hope that this is really important, because I thoroughly dislike missing classes.” Jimin dead panned, trying his best not to sound like an ass. 

“Just like your father I see. I would like to hope that my questions seems  important to you, because I got a feeling that girl you danced with on the night of the ball was your darling dandelion.” Jimin stiffened at the mention of your mere nickname. “I see I have your attention Mister Park. So I am correct to assume that the dancer in pink with you was (l/n) (y/n).”

“Why do you ask Master Geonsik?” Jimin asked.

“I see your suspicious in thinking that I am in alliance with the Yoo family, I can assure I am not. To prove that I have already fired the three teacher in cahoots with Yoo Miju, and I will make sure they never set foot near Etre ever again. In addition to the terms of the expulsion of Miss Yoo, those actions shall be carried out shortly. Mister Park I am only asking about Miss (l/n) in your best interests. With the soon removal of Miss Yoo, I would like Miss (l/n) to be your replacement partner. I believe that you two can do incredible things in the future as a partners. On the contrary Miss (l/n) hasn’t had any formal lessons, so are you willing to be patient and help her get up to speed. She may remember all the moves and be able to perform, but talent can only take her so far, she needs strength and balance, qualities that take years of practice. I know you Mister Park, and that you are very impatient. So will you be patient with Miss (y/n) if I recruit her to be your partner?” Jimin licked his cracked lips, would he be able to change for you? Could he slow down for once to help you? Would you even want to dance with him? Ballet is indeed a beautiful art, but the dancing world is a harsh one, could he protect you from that. He didn’t want to waste your time, and taking you out of your career of being a maker.

“I will help her, I promise. Only if she is willing to join me as my partner.” Jimin answered.

“Well that sounds wonderful, bring her to Etre today, before your pas de deux practice. It has been cancelled for today. I want to see her dance with you one more time.” Master Geonsik said. Jimin nodded and left after Master Geonsik dismissed him.

During lunch the others noticed Jimin’s absence. “Where is Jimin? I hope he’ll be back in time for our practice, audition season is here. I want to make sure that we can nail our auditions so we can leave this school and start making our way through the professional world.” Miju said with a snobby tone, nose high in the air. The others collectively rolled their eyes, trying to keep their groans in.

Chaerin sighed as she and Hoseok walked to their next class. “Man, I wish someone could be good enough to shut Miju down.” Chaerin said, putting her hands head.

“I mean you could put her in her spot.” Hoseok pointed out.

“But the system is set against me, it totally favors Miju, and honestly I am a couple years behind Miju. We need someone who would totally blind side everyone, just come out of nowhere and dominate like a queen.” Chaerin expressed vividly as she talked with her hands.

“What about (y/n)?” Hoseok asked, “Miju would burn the world if (y/n) replaced her. Besides I think that (y/n) can do it, she has great chemistry with Jimin. I would have never believed that they could be partners. Remember when they first met at the beginning of the school year? I gagged when I found out that Jimin liked (y/n), I thought he was high or something.”

“I was so scared for (y/n) at first. I thought Jimin was trying to play games with (y/n), I was so sure he wouldn’t even try to be with someone who wasn't a dancer of his caliber. He just seemed like he was gunning for Miju, and be this royal couple in the school. Interesting.” Chaerin said.

“But it would be awesome for (y/n) to train with us here, then we can all together!” Hoseok cheered.

“I wish it was that simple Hoseok, it’s not just (y/n)’s choice. It all depends if (y/n)’s family lets her go, ever since she was a little girl she has been forbidden to dance and forced to watch from the audience’s seat. It might be rough for her to transition to a school of dancers who have been dancing their whole lives. (Y/n) can’t make up a lifetime of dance in just one or two years.” Chaerin pointed, Hoseok frowned but then flung his arm over her shoulder.

“Don’t worry about (y/n) too much Riniie, I understand your concern. While (y/n) has been grounded for a while I genuinely believe that she will be able to soar in whatever she does. C’mon she’s (l/n) (y/n) she can do anything.” Hoseok laughed.

“(Y/n) you have a visitor!” Your mom screamed from her desk. You muttered “ah fuck,” under your breath due to the fact that you were in the middle of forming the toe box, thus your hands were covered in sticky dirt colored paste.

“Hello, Miss (y/n) I am Headmaster Geonsik, from Etre.”  The older man greeted you.

“Yes, I do know who you are, my grandmother made your shoes.” You said, holding up your pasty hands.

“Ah yes, I do miss dancing in her shoes. Unfortunate that she passed so soon. However Miss (y/n) I have not come to waste your time about the shoes your grandmother made. I am here to talk about your ballet skills.”

“I also do know I suck, I do not need someone else telling me that fact thank you.” You said quickly after Master Geonsik.

“No, you are far from ‘sucking’ Miss (y/n) I am here to personally recruit you for Etre Academy. I want you to join our ranks of elite dancers.”

“ ‘Elite’ is the key word here Master Geonsik. As you can see I do not ‘belong in the ranks of the elite dancers’ I belong here, at this desk making shoes.” You said waving the paste around. “I don’t wear tutus, I wear paste stained aprons. I don’t step into pointe shoes, I make them.” You pointed out.

“I beg to differ, I saw you in a tutu and pointe shoes on that night of the ball.” Your eyes widened at the mere mention of that night.

“Ssshhh,” you shushed, “no one here can know I was there that night. My mother would end my life right here and now if she heard.” You panicked.

Master Geonsik smirked, and it reminded you of a visage so familiar. “Well if you want me to make sure that no one hears, please attend a private audition at 16:30 today. Someone will be waiting for you at the lobby. Please wear clothes according to the occasion, and if it isn’t obvious enough please wear pointe shoes.” Master Geonsik said, before leaving. “Ah fuck,” you muttered.

You tried to walk into Etre as quickly and quietly as you could, after sneaking out of the Delladova shop. You walked into the regal lobby of Etre, which never failed to suck your breath from your lungs with its beauty. You thought that if you just showed up and quite right after saying that the ballet life isn’t for you.

“Miss (y/n) I have been waiting for you, I am Madame Jiyu. I am new teacher here, I teach solo variations for females. I will take you to the dance room you will be auditioning.” A young woman said, bowing. You bowed back and greeted her. You followed her in the gigantic school, until you arrived to a room with the door closed.

“You can step in here. Put your shoes on, stretch and warm up.” She said and walked off. You pushed the door open to see Jimin sipping on his water bottle.

“Okay it is time for my to leave. It’s been a great audition but I have decided that this life isn’t for me.” You said, walking out while of the door while re-adjusting your bag. Jimin stood up and caught your wrist with his sweaty hand, before you could fully leave from the door.

“May I have this dance?” Jimin breathed. You turned to look him in the eye.

“Don’t you dance with Miju?”

“I can’t dance with her again. I never want to dance with anyone else again, (y/n). That night of the ball I realized that my partner is you. (Y/n), we can be partners together on the dance floor., and actually hold each other. I know you feel the same way, so why do you keep walking away from me? Or am I just wrong in the way I feel, am I the only one? Am I alone?” You frowned and sniffled. You took your free hand and pretended to pull on the invisible skirt you had on and curtsied.

“I would be honored to dance with you.” You said. Jimin smiled, but then let go of your hand.

“I think that you need shoes Miss, you were told to have proper dance attire remember.” Jimin smiled, you rolled your eyes and lightly punched Jimin.

“Way to ruin the moment Prince Charming.” You said as you sat down with your bag to put on your pointe shoes.

“Prince Charming? I’ve always thought of myself as more of a Prince Florimund.” Jimin shot back. “Lets warm you up shall we? You still need to stretch and get ready for your audition. I am here as your guide.” Jimin said. You nodded and held onto the barre attached to the walls. After about 45 minutes of warming up you were already out of breath gasping for as much oxygen as you could.

“Maybe you should go and get some water.” Jimin suggested, you nodded and walked to your bag with your water bottle in. When the first sip of water hit your tongue you started drinking at a faster pace. You wiped drops of water away from your lips when you took the bottle away from your lips.

“Water has never tasted so good.” You gasped between gulps of water.

“Don’t you run?” Jimin asked.

“When you make 76 shoes a day it gets a little bit hard to work out every day.” You said, “as much as I love running and exercising, the most I have done these past couple of days is trying to catch the train after over sleeping.”

“I see, well let’s warm up for another 45 minutes and then we’ll dance okay?” Jimin proposed.

“My god, I am going to be so sore tomorrow.” You said, as you threw your bottle back into your bag. After another grueling 45 minutes of warming up, Jimin correcting you, and Jimin critiquing you, it was time to start dancing. When Jimin turned on the CD player, from the speakers, your ears recognized the melody.

“The wedding dance from ‘Sleeping Beauty’?” You asked.

“Yeah, well this isn’t for our wedding yet…” Jimin winked, and you replied with an eye roll and a middle finger, “I still think that an ‘awakening beauty’ is very fitting for you.” Jimin said, as he pulled you closer and held onto your hands.

“Whatever I thought you danced more than you smooth talked.” You shot back, smiling. Jimin shook it off and began the pas de deux. The whole thing was a trial and error process, sometimes, he would stop and help you correct your mistakes. Sometimes you made the same mistake over and over again, but Jimin did not once raise his voice, express a look of disdain or anger. You were surprised at the amount of patience Jimin has shown today. You would have never guessed he would be so patient with you, someone who hasn’t who has danced for more than half of their life. Before he was an egotistical douche bag, who refused to dance with someone who couldn’t keep up with him. You definitely fell hard in the category of “someone who can not dance on his level”.

“Jimin,” you called, while looking down at your water bottle, “how come you chose me as a partner? I’m not someone who glitters as gem like Miju on stage.”

“Well you might not be a fine cut gem like Miju…” you winced at what seemed like a diss, “however, gems can’t do the same things as flowers. Miju is pretty, but she can’t breathe life into the characters and the variations like you do.” Jimin finished. “You know at the beginning of last year when all the dancers came back, I met you, and you became my maker. All the Masters and Madams were telling me constantly that I was dancing without emotion. Here you are, a girl who hasn’t had formal training in forever, you bring such raw emotion and passion that many dancers at my level has lost. You never lost all that passion (y/n), you dance with your heart as much as you did all those years ago, and I admire that about you. Sometimes I feel like you have been saved from this cruel world that is ballet.”

“Wait, how did you how I danced when I was younger, you never knew me.” You turned to look up at Jimin.

“Because we used to meet under rainbow lanterns (y/n).” Jimin answered.

“You’re the boy who held my pointe shoes…” You murmured. “The one who cradled the blue pointe shoes, the ones my grandma made. You were crying saying that you lost me. The boy with sweet cheeks, plump pink lips, and my dear friend who ate chewy donuts with me.”

“Do you really remember me (y/n)?”

“The accident, you never came to see me after the car hit me, Jimin why?”

“I got sent to France to study, and got into my own accident. I visited you once in the hospital you were still in a coma. I would have stayed longer (y/n).” Jimin admitted.

“Well,” you stood to you feet, “If there has been something I have learned from over these years, is that the past is in the past and you can’t really change it. No matter how much you wish to go back.”

“You ready to dance?” Jimin asked. You nodded your head. “It’s the grand finale”

“One more time.” You smiled and held out your hands for Jimin. The song restarted once more, as you and Jimin began to dance together.  Through the one way mirror three teachers were watching you and Jimin practice and dance for the whole time.

“I don’t understand Master Geonsik, how come we have to watch this girl from afar. Don’t you think it’s unfair for the other children who audition. They know when we are watching how come this girl gets an advantage?” Master Taemin asked.

“Because this is no ordinary ballerina Master Taemin, we mustn't make a commotion until we have decided to accept her into Etre or not.” Master Geonsik answered.

You danced with Jimin in sync and as cleanly as you could. You bent your body when you needed to and kept it straight when you needed. Both you and Jimin were able to embody the eternal and elegant love of Aurora and Florimund.

“Wait I have never seen Park Jimin dance with this many emotions with Yoo Miju. This current dance puts the one he did in the fall to shame.” Master Taemin noticed.

“You have to give the girl some credit, she is not classically trained as Yoo Miju, but she puts her best effort forward in every run through they had. She listens well, and uses every bit of advice Park Jimin has given to her. She may be talented but she also has fantastic work ethic, something rare in the dancers at this school. She can get really far with these qualities.” Madame Jiyu added.

You could sense that the song was coming to end so the final move was coming soon. You raised your arm into fifth position, Jimin spun you by your hips, and caught you to face the front. The moment when Jimin and Miju completed the final move together replayed in your mind, as you copied her movements, trying to remember her mistakes and improve on them.

You hooked your leg around Jimin’s thigh, as he let go of your hips, you engaged your abs to hold up the upper half of your body, and flung your hands in the air. Your mind was only focusing on your body, making sure your line was clean and muscles clenched to ensure you won’t topple onto the ground.

“What the fuck is this?!” Miju screeched, busting into dance room. “Get off of my partner you bitch! You have no right to be dancing with him. No right, no talent, no grace, and no beauty.” She continued. Jimin grabbed a hold of your hand to help you step back onto the dance floor. You stood tall to face Miju, maybe it was an adrenaline high, but you felt like she couldn’t do anything to you.

Miju extended her index finger at you. “You don’t belong here (y/n). You’re not a dancer, you’re a maker. You don’t deserve to step foot onto the stage, you should know your place. How many times must I teach to know where you belong. Locking you in the shoe room, destroying your home, and threatening your family wasn’t enough?! You insulate creature, you have no place here.” Miju screamed.

“Actually Miss Yoo, you are quite in the wrong.”  Madame Jiyu walked in, with the two other teachers and Master Geonsik behind her.

“If it’s anyone who doesn’t belong at this academy it’s actually you.” Master Geonsik added. “You are a talented dancer but a horrible person. The staff knows about your family’s pay outs to certain teachers to assure you have the lead. Etre academy is for those who work hard, not those who get complacent with their talent. Miss Yoo due to your unacceptable actions against Miss (l/n) the academy has no choice but to expel you.”

“What?! Expel me, my family has done nothing but contribute to this school. All the donations and the free time my parents gave to teach your useless students.”

“Yes, your family has made great contributions to this school, however the board members would rather lose the Yoo family than the (l/n) family. The (l/n)’s have worked for Etre for generations. They have shown loyalty and dedication by providing long hours in the workshop making shoes for all of our dancers. Miss (l/n) is no exception, we know that she spends many nights away from her family making sure all orders are completed on time. How have you gone above and beyond Miss Yoo?” Master Geonsik asked rhetorically. Tears welled up in Miju eyes, he was right, and Miju couldn’t say anything to defend herself. She ran out of the room and out of your life.

“Miss (y/n),” Master Geonsik and the three other teachers turned to you, “I invited you here to dance with Mister Park as a try out. Due to Miss Yoo’s unfortunate departure, Mister Park is evidently partner-less.”

“With your stellar performance you had right now with Mister Park, we hope that you will accept a scholarship here at Etre, and be Mister Park’s full time partner.” Madame Jiyu explained. Jimin’s lips stretched into a smile as he placed his hand on your shoulder and squeezed.

“(Y/n) you should take the scholarship. I know you haven’t been classically trained all your life like the others here. Catching up will be hard but I promise to be with you every step of the way. I’ll be one of your teachers that will catch you up on the years that you missed.” Jimin added. You turned to meet him eye to eye.

“Really? The whole way?”

“(Y/n) I told you why I think you are an amazing dancer. I would be honored to have someone extraordinary to dance with. (Y/n) I know you felt how well we danced together, it feels different from how I danced with Miju.”

“Miju is right I don’t belong here.” You said, your voice unwavering. Jimin and the staff looked at you in shock.

“(Y/n) don’t listen to her, what-”

“-Jimin, let me finish,” ironically you interrupted him, “I can’t ever be the partner that dances on stage with you. I am the partner that dances with you at the workbench. That is where I belong.” You answered.

“What happened to the little girl who loved to dance? I remember, I told you I remember everything from when we were little (y/n).”

“Jimin, she’s still here.” You placed his hand over your heart. “She just grew up.” You smiled. “I love dancing, I love ballet, I love it all, but I know I am meant to be the one makes your shoes. I do dance with you stage, in every pair of shoes I make for you, a bit of me is with you, in the form of that dandelion that I press into your shoes. I hope you can respect me as a partner in that sense. I am truly happy stay up late night to make shoes for the greatest dancer I know.”

“It is truly unfortunate that you haven’t chosen to be a dancer here Miss (l/n), all the staff at Etre believed you could have built an excellent foundation here for your bright future. However if you change your mind the doors to Etre are always opened to you. You know where to find us Miss (l/n).” Master Geonsik said, and the other teachers followed him out the door.

“(Y/n) are you sure you don’t want to join the academy? Please join, I’ll make sure that I will stay at Etre for another year if that is what it takes to get you ready for a company. We can go in together, I can wait for you.” Jimin pulled you into his body and cradled your jaw with a hand. You nodded your head from side to side.

“I’m sure that I don’t want to be a dancer. I thought about coming back as a dancer long and hard, but I am happy as a maker. I know I could make a new path for myself, but I want to stay on this path, with you.”

“I have a compromise then,” Jimin proposed, you rolled your eyes.

“Jimin I’m sure I don’t-”

“-(Y/n) let me finish.” Jimin smiled slyly. “If you won’t be my pas de deux partner, then be my girlfriend.” You stared into his eyes for a few seconds, getting lost within them. Your lips released a hum, while Jimin’s tongue darted out to lick his dry lips.

“I would gladly accept your compromise.” You answered. You weren’t sure what to do, were you supposed to kiss him? Hug him? Jimin made the first move and placed both of hands onto your cheeks. You felt the pads of his thumb running over the skin of your cheeks.

“Stop, I don’t want to feel all my pores and acne scars.” You whined.

Jimin chuckled. “I think your cheeks feel as soft as petals.” Jimin pulled you forward into a kiss. Jimin’s lips felt like clouds against your own, you wondered what his pout felt like now you do know. “And so are your lips.” Jimin smirked. 

“Shut up before I punch you in your perfect lips” You rolled your eyes. “You think I have perfect lips?” Jimin cocked an eyebrow. 

“Absolutely princely.” You said, leaning back in for another kiss.

[glass-throat]

la vie en rouge ii

so after editing this one i remembered that members of the ackerman clan have that person of importance that they cherish or whatever. what if levi cared for mikasa like that? i think that’d be cute. i tried to establish more dialogue into this chapter but dialogue isn’t my strongest point. lmao i can’t even tell the difference between a noun verb and pronoun and shit like that. i just like writing sometimes. 

i may have written the first half when i was kind of buzzed but there’s a lot to go through and it’s almost 5a rn so i’m posting this with fingers crossed, hoping that there aren’t too many mistakes.

levi had returned with plans of permanently remaining by mikasa’s side. having left the underground circle, levi followed her to the boundaries of wall rose only to witness the infamous armored titan destroy it. he had never seen a titan break through the wall like that. 

when they reached the dump off area for refugees, mikasa had clutched onto his arm and almost cried. he thought she was crying because she was scared. 

“why would you do that? what if you got hurt? what if someone saw you?” she sounded more angry than sad but she was one of the weirdest people he’d met.

“your home was just invaded by titans and the only thing you can think of is my safety?”

“yes! you shouldn’t risk yourself for me! i don’t know what i would’ve done if something happened to you!”

“i saved you and your family and this is how you talk to me?”

“i think you as my family too!”

“why? you don’t even know who i am.” he didn’t understand why she would think of him like that, but he was thoroughly pleased. 

“i may not know anything about you but there’s something good in you and i want to see more of it.”

he had been introduced to her friends - armin, the blond, who was as nice as he looked while eren wasn’t as kind but was more curious about his relationship with mikasa. since they’ve only ever met at night or early morning, it would make sense to assume that she was bound to them.

levi wasn’t sure how they would react to him suddenly a part of their lives but he wasn’t going anywhere.

“when did you meet him?” armin asked. mikasa paused. she hadn’t thought of  an excuse, which levi had to help with by jumping in.

“we’ve met at the market and talked a few times.”

something in his stomach told him the blond boy was going to be troublesome in the future with the suspicious looks he was giving him. eren blew past the explanation and seemed as if he was attempting to gain levi’s attention.

even though there was more to worry about, mikasa still had a hard time sleeping. levi, of course, noticed because he was usually awake on those nights with her. the first few weeks after the fall of wall maria, they have long conversations. 

one night, mikasa had grown comfortable enough to talk about her past. though levi was very curious, he didn’t want to push her. he certainly wasn’t ready to tell her who he was before he met her.

he asked if her lack of sleep had to do with her past. she sighed in exhaustion. he almost wanted to tell her that she didn’t have to tell him anything, but she told him she wanted him to know.

mikasa didn’t have anyone to talk to until eren came to visit. she had said that the first time she met him was after she was kidnapped. levi didn’t feel it was right for her to tell him about herself. in a way, he felt he hadn’t deserved her trust. he had questions but he kept them to himself. he let her talk about how they thought it was going to be a doctors visit, how her mother had taught her to sew and the last thing she asked them was where babies had come from.

levi almost chuckled. he wasn’t sure how they were made, either.

then she told him after they killed her parents in front of her, she was taken to a shack where they were waiting for the buyer. she also mentioned that they were going to send her to the underground circle.

of course it was someone from underground. from levi’s experience, anyone that came from there were pigs. he wasn’t excluding himself because he had made the decision of sticking with her without asking her if she was okay with it. if she was okay with him. he had wanted to ask but he was afraid he wouldn’t like the answer. he figured if mikasa didn’t want him there, she wouldn’t hesitate to let him know.

she continued on with telling him how eren came into the picture. he was her savior. he had killed two of the three men. 

“what happened to the third one?” he asked but he had a feeling he knew the answer.

“I killed him.” he couldn’t tell how that made her feel. she didn’t sound sad or upset at all. she was too good at keeping a straight face. he attempted to console her.

“you did what you had to do. if you didn’t do it then, he was going to kill you guys.”

“the knife went straight through his heart.”

“we don’t know who’s capable of anything when someone is cornered like that. i’ve killed before but i understand why i had to do it.” mikasa glanced at his eyes and nodded in understanding.

“eren had told me that the world is cruel but it can also be very beautiful.” levi wanted to roll his eyes. of course, eren would say something like that.

levi didn’t like eren. he was the kind of boy that would act before thinking. a lot of what mikasa had told him led him to believe that armin and herself were usually behind eren to keep him safe. how much trouble could he get into? 

two days after the fall of maria, eren was picking a fight with a couple of garrison officers. mikasa had gotten him out of trouble but levi was pissed. there was no need for his friends to take care of him as if they were his parents. everyone had their own problems and eren was just giving everyone a hard time. he had wanted to ‘talk’ to eren, but mikasa had highly discouraged him. she had threatened him with violence. if anyone was going to hit eren, it was going to be her.

levi was slightly worried that she might’ve been enamored by eren but with how she described eren, he figured out that it was not the case. mikasa realized how she was more of an annoyance to eren and eren was the type of person that didn’t appreciate what he had until it was taken away from him.

not levi. levi had lost everything before he had a chance to appreciate it. the only person he really talked to was kenny. it was hard to find people to talk to when they were from underground. if somebody wanted to talk to him, they had bad intentions. levi had been making a name of himself. he didn’t care much for the attention - he hated the looks that were tossed his way.

he was tired of going back to the empty shack he called home. day in and out, it felt as though his actions were never getting him anywhere. even though he was fast on his feet and he was able to bring down men twice his size, levi still felt like he was at rock bottom. he knew how to use a knife but that was it.

since he made his way above ground, he had an easier time breathing. the air was cleaner and not everyone was out to get him. even after the invasion, the citizens were nowhere near as cruel as what he was used to.

despite armin’s questioning looks, eren’s poor attitude, mikasa’s overprotectiveness of the boys, and levi’s dependence on mikasa, the four remained together. when they were of age, they enlisted. levi had tried stopping mikasa from following the two of them but she was stubborn.

“where eren goes, i go.”

seeing how she wasn’t going to budge, levi decided to join as well.

“don’t follow me. i owe eren since he saved my life.” levi almost smiled. she had no idea that he was doing the same with her.

“i don’t have anyone else in this world but you. i don’t have a home. i don’t know how to explain it but you helped me. if you died because of that shitty brat, i’ll kill him.”

mikasa’s eyes widened slightly. then she smiled at him. it was one of the biggest smiles he had seen from her. she laid her hand on his shoulder and wrapped her arms around his neck.

there were many things levi disliked but this wasn’t one of them. 

“what are you doing?” mikasa didn’t let go but she let out a questioning sound.

“what do you mean?”

“touching me. this. what are you doing?”

“i’m hugging you. is that why you’re so stiff?”

“what does a hug do?”

“i’m trying to express my affection for you.”

“ugh, i know where you’ve been the last few days.” even though he had seen her get in a scrap fight with another boy from the trost district, he couldn’t help the slight twitch in his arms.

“do you want me to let go?”

“no. am i supposed to hug you back?”

“yes.”

levi and mikasa had silently agreed to keeping levi’s abilities a secret. initially, mikasa had wanted to tell armin and eren, but with eren’s strong dismay for titans, she wasn’t sure how he was going to receive the news.

in the training corps, mikasa and levi remained at the top of their class. in the duration of their training, it was no surprise that levi hadn’t made any new friends. he hadn’t seen the point if they were going to end up probably dying. it sounded pessimistic but he wanted to save himself from the most pain he could.

levi didn’t like how eren was annoyed with mikasa. it was a pattern - eren messed up, mikasa came to help him, and eren yells at her about it. mikasa was a stubborn girl so she doesn’t back down until he hurts her feelings and their relationship is further strained. levi, on the other hand, is perpetually admired near and far by eren and the other trainees.

mikasa wasn’t normal. levi noted that she was too strong for her size. the same could be said for himself, but he reasoned that he was older. because of her strange strength, she had received a lot of attention from other guys. many of them wanted to spar with her; one of the reoccurring boys being reiner and jean. levi suspected the latter to be one of her admirers. usually, jean would attempt to challenge her but levi would somehow intervene and end up dissuading the boy or fight him himself.

levi was practically inseparable from the shinganshina trio - more so mikasa. he walked out with mikasa when the first fight between jean and eren dissipated. jean had stopped mikasa (right in front of him no less) and complimented her hair. mikasa had thanked him and walked off with levi next to her.

to others, their relationship was rather strange. the air around levi demanded respect and fear while mikasa seemed to resemble this to a certain degree. sometimes shadis was hesitant to confront levi should he be caught skipping training.

on the first day, all the trainees were standing out in the sun, waiting for the infamous rite of passage. while they were waiting for shadis to finish his rounds, he noticed that he weeded out the ones that didn’t belong here. he witnessed the man harass armin and found himself taking some joy out of it. he glanced at mikasa from the corner of his eye. when they first met, he was taller than her. now, she was getting closer to his height and it felt like he hadn’t grown an inch.

mikasa had a relaxed face, almost as though she were in a daze. he had scanned the area for eren but he wasn’t able to see him from where he was standing. he had heard mikasa mention his last name but he was still in the process of learning his alphabet.

levi still hadn’t made an effort to get to know the two boys that were now his friends as well. he couldn’t care less and seeing as they still didn’t fully trust him, he didn’t see any reason to feel bad.

when shadis had finally walked past them, levi felt the need to scoff. there wasn’t any reason for him or mikasa to be there since this was just a game to weed out the weaker brats. some of them had already left camp. there were a few that the instructor had left alone - one being a blonde girl. something didn’t feel right with that one. there was something weird about the look in her eyes. it was too early to see what this girl was about, so he kept this information to himself. there was another boy: a tall sweaty one. it wasn’t a very hot day and he wasn’t on the heavy side, so he didn’t see a reason for him to be sweating so hard. he looked too nervous for shadis to walk past.

for the rest of the day, the trainees were thrown in classes to further educate them on titans and what their purposes were. it wasn’t hard to see that they were trying to inspire the other kids to get them eager enough to kill these monsters. levi took another glance at mikasa. she wasn’t engaged in the lesson since most of it was common knowledge.

if it were up to levi, he wouldn’t have joined the military. he had wanted to start over and live a civilian life. he had hoped that mikasa would want the same but she had already made up her mind. since she was so stubborn, he had planned out what would happen if she were to choose the garrison, military police, or the survey corps. if she were to choose the garrison, he’d fight tooth and nail to ensure they were in the same district. he had wanted her to choose the military police. despite the government being so corrupt, he had thought that to be better than what they were dealing with now. he’d do his damn best to convince the dumb bitch to be smart and work in the inner walls. 

it was most likely that she was going to end up joining the survey corps with eren. anywhere eren went, she was going to follow. anywhere she went, levi would be right behind.

levi realized this might be their only shot of getting into the inner walls. levi only wanted her safety - he didn’t have anyone else he cared for so he definitely didn’t give two shits about humanity. he wasn’t going to save the world if she wasn’t going to be a part of it.

when it came to learning how to use the gear, it was no surprise that levi and mikasa had exceeded all expectations. it was also no surprise that eren had managed to mess up. with eren attempting to blow off his steam by provoking jean into another fight, levi led mikasa out of the dining area and back into the dorms. levi enjoyed doing side projects every now and then. not long after they had arrived into camp, he had asked mikasa if she could teach him the native language of her clan. before the passing of her parents, her mother had taught her the basics of kanji, a strange language he had never seen before. he had wanted to embrace every part of mikasa since she was his important person. 

levi wasn’t good at writing so mikasa had him practice writing his name and everyone else’s name in the general language most people understood until they were somewhat legible. admittedly, was embarrassed that he was older than her and he needed her help with something so basic but it couldn’t be helped.

“do you still want to join the survey corps with the shitty brats?” he suddenly asked. his hand cramped from the unnatural position he forced it in the last hour.

“you shouldn’t call them that. you don’t know them like that,” she replied cooly while looking over his paper. “my answer hasn’t changed.”

“i don’t have to know them when they’re all you talk about.” he cringed while he spoke. he hadn’t meant to say it like that.

“if you’re so annoyed hearing about them, you should say something. i’m sure it’s not hard for you,” she bit back.

“that’s not what i meant,” he sighed out. “you know how i am with words. i mean, you don’t talk about yourself unless you’re asked about it. even then, you’re so fucking vague about your answers. i’ve known you years and i still don’t know a lot about you.”

even though they had been attached by the hip for the last few years, he still felt like they were strangers sometimes.

“you never ask about me, either,” he continued. “weren’t you scared shitless back then? are you still scared now?”

there was a short pause between them. mikasa let out a small chuckle. 

“i was joking. i know what you meant but i didn’t know you felt like that. there are times i want to ask you about your past but i thought you’d be uncomfortable sharing that with me. i shared a piece of my past with you of my own accord. i’m not expecting you to share everything with me.”

levi folded his arms. he leaned further back into his chair. 

“when you say it like that, i sound like an asshole. but you still didn’t tell me if you were scared of me.”

mikasa placed the paper back on the desk and gave a smile. 

“i was afraid at first, but after that, i got the feeling that you were more afraid of me than anything else,” she replied with a smirk. levi threw a smirk of his own. he decided to save the military police conversation for another day.

before mikasa lived with the yeagers, she would have a hot cup of tea if she was stressed. her mother used to make the tea using the herbs from the small garden they grew. she frowned at the thought of her mother. that was only possible if she could find them but she remembered her mother had told her that they were only found on the mountainside.

the pained expressions of her mother and father filled her head for the last few days but mikasa kept to herself. living with the yeagers was nice, but she still felt alone. the family had welcomed her with open arms and warm smiles. she was beyond elated to have a family again.

she felt sick to her stomach from even looking at the men in the shiganshina neighborhood. she tried her best to avoid eye contact with any of them since all she could see were the callous hands that had secured the rope binding her wrists to her back - the same hands that enclosed around eren’s throat. she would usually leave the scene at this point but when she remembered how his arms fell to his side, swinging from the momentum, she could feel her own throat constrict.

she still wasn’t getting the amount of sleep she wanted, so when it was dark out, she went for a stroll throughout the camp. mikasa felt the gravel collect in the gaps of her toes, but she continued walking on. she was grateful for the prickling sensations on the balls of her feet and the wind for blowing the scent of old alcohol and the roaming presence of what smelled like the stew from dinner. 

she found herself near the watchtower. there were walls surrounding the campsite and she found a grassy patch to sit on. mikasa knew she wasn’t supposed to be out at this time but she needed to take her mind off of her parents.

though she never showed it, mikasa was beginning to have second thoughts about joining the military. she had wanted to live in a small cottage out in the open, similar to what she lived in with her parents. a small nagging voice had told her that she was not going to accomplish that with eren and armin. they both wanted to see the ocean. armin had shown her the books that described the salty waters and at the moment, she felt a sense of motivation swell within her. she too had wanted to experience the feeling of freedom, but she had assumed that she was going to die before she would ever see anything like that.

several times before, mikasa had pondered leaving camp to start a new life. she had no desire to kill titans but if she had to, she knew she could do it. the only thing that frustrated her was how unstable things were. there was no guarantee that she would even see half of the people she trained. she had no idea what the future would bring so any plans she had wanted to make had to be short term.

before the incident, her mother had told her that she would find a man to marry one day and he would work for the both of them. they would find a home of their own and she could spend her days tending to plants, chores, children, or even make her own money. she had been told that she was going to be given a life of security when she got older. as time passed, she realized that not everything would come to fruition.

mikasa heard footsteps in the general area behind her. without moving her body, she angled her head to where the footsteps were coming from. she wasn’t surprised to see that it was levi looking for her. she had gone outside so often in the past that it had become a part of his routine as well. almost as though he could feel her eyes on him, his head snapped to her direction.

“don’t lay there. there’s fucking bugs everywhere.” he made his way to her. even though he had a strong dislike for dirt, he found the cleanest area next to her and sat down.

“don’t you care that your dress is going to get dirty?” he inquired. mikasa rolled her eyes.

“i’ll just wash it after. it’s fine. i could say the same for you.”

“i’m only here because i’m trying to get you back to bed.” a small part of mikasa felt guilty for dragging levi into all of this. if she was having doubts about the future, she couldn’t imagine how he felt. she had assumed he had goals of his own that he wanted to see accomplished. she was forever grateful for their friendship. she just didn’t want to make him feel like he had to stick with her like this.

“i couldn’t sleep, so i figured some air would be nice.” she could hear levi sigh in irritation.

“can i ask you something?” levi didn’t respond. she would ask him anyway.

“why did you come here?” she turned her head to him to indicate her full attention was on him.

“because you’re here.”

“levi, you don’t have to be here. you can-”

“shut the fuck up. i don’t need you to tell me what to do. if i want to leave, i’ll do it. but since i’m here, there’s no need to ask me to stay.”

“i don’t want to make you feel like you have to stay.”

“i’m here because you’re here. i don’t know what kind of sugar colored shit you want me to say for you to get it. if you leave, i’m going with you. before i met you, i didn’t know what i was going to do with myself. i didn’t have any plans so i was just going through the day, looking for the next meal. i don’t know why i am the way i am. if anyone else saw me, they’d lose their shit. but you saw me. you didn’t react the way you were supposed to. those nights when you told me about yourself made me feel better. it sounds fucked up but it made me feel like i wasn’t alone because you were going through shit too. i trusted you enough to show you what i really looked like and i was scared shitless before that.

“then you asked me for my name and where i came from like you gave a shit about me. i didn’t understand why you wanted to be friends with me then, and i still don’t understand why now. but i’m glad. but i also don’t want to be because what if you change your mind? i don’t know how to deal with that. you’re the least shittiest person i know on this bitch of an earth.

“i don’t know what the extent of my strength is but i don’t want you to get hurt by it. if i can keep you safe, i’m happy with it. if you’re not happy here, we can fucking leave and start a shop or something and be civilians. if you want to stay, then we’ll stay.”

“i understand that,” mikasa said slowly, as though she were chewing through her words. “there’s so many other people out there that you can form a bond with. i don’t want you to hold yourself back for me. you may not have the best attitude but - “

“did you hear what i just fucking said?” levi interrupted. “i just gave you a long ass speech about my feelings and that’s all you have to say? i just need you, that’s it. you don’t need to be dramatic and sacrifice yourself for my happiness. i’m fucking grown so i can make my own damn decisions.” levi found it unbelievable how stupid mikasa could be. she was on top of every activity and subject in the camp but she had no common sense.

he understood what she was saying, though. she had wanted him to be free and live his life the way he wanted to. she really wasn’t in any position to tell him anything about living his own life since her hold on eren is keeping her from living a normal life. they’d both be safer in the inner walls, levi thought. by the time they graduated from training, he needed to convince mikasa to go into the military police with him. she deserved better than having to prove her worth in the survey corps.

[shewhowantsmouseears]

The Son Of Scheherazade, 18

Notes: As always, big thanks to my editors Drucilla and BlueShifted!

Apparently I got some of your hopes up and made you think the Imp was going to be Stitch... sorry folks! The Imp here is actually from the Disney comics, otherwise known as the Imp from the 11th Dimension. Though he only appeared in two stories (as far as I know), I thought he'd be a pretty interesting character to use.

Also, originally the big confrontation with the Imp was going to be only with Mickey, but I decided it's Minnie's time to shine.

Summary: Mickey tries to use old tactics on a new foe, but it turns out not everyone can be won over through acts of kindness. Can they stop the Imp, and what's happened to Clarabelle?

This had all the makings of one of Sultana Scheherazade's classic stories : a ragtag group of heroes and heroines, a piece of a map to a lost kingdom, and an evil entity unleashed after centuries of imprisonment. Except, Mickey thought, if this was one of mother's stories, the freed Imp would've looked...

… Taller.

After a few hacks and coughs, the once intimidating voice then squeaked, “Fi-na-lly!”, as the smog began to clear. “I'm free, I'm free, and there's nothing anyone can do to stop me!” This might've sounded threatening if it hadn't come from a creature that was even smaller than Minnie – though it was a guess, seeing as he was freely hovering in the air. “You'll never get me inside that smelly jar again!” None of the statues or costumes had gotten his appearance correct, save for the gigantic ears on the sides of his head. There were no fangs or blood-red eyes – thinning black hair poked out from a whimsically pointy blue and red hat, with his outfit the same colors as if he were some children's interpretation of a court jester. Had he not popped out of the jar, many could have easily assumed this was a child, especially with his one solid tooth sticking out at the top of his lip.

Just to be sure, Mickey glanced back at Pleakly and Jumba. “Um... this is the Imp?”

“I think we might need to do some re-rebranding,” Pleakly replied with clear disappointment, though he wasn't letting go of Jumba anytime soon.

“I am removing self from family tree, starting now.” Jumba dropped Pleakly like a sack of hot potatoes.

“Now then!” The Imp clapped his hands together, his beady eyes scanning the room. “I take it you've used all these years to finally get me a proper playmate?”

Horace began to back up. “Oooh, I don't like where this is going.”

Mickey looked up at the Imp, and decided this was the perfect time to put his new attitude on display. “Why, if you want to play, we'll all play with you!” he chirped pleasantly. Perhaps all this time had made the Imp rethink things, and all he wanted now was someone to understand him. No anger, no negativity, just positive thinking! “My name is Mickey, and these are all my friends!” He gestured to the crew, who nervously waved hello.

The Imp cupped his chin with his hand, making a long “hmmm”-ing noise. “You think you guys are worthy enough to be my playmates? I won't just have anyone, after all. I need people who can keep up with me and who will have fun with me. When I was created, absolutely no one liked my idea of fun. They never wanted to play any of my games.”

“I love a good game!” Mickey replied with sheer enthusiasm. “Come on, what do you want to play?”

The Imp surveyed Mickey up and down, and then bounced in the air until he was right in front of Mickey's nose. “All right! I thought of a really fun one while I was stuck in that stupid jar... Lions or Tigers?”

Mickey blinked, as he'd never heard of any game called that. “Uh, let's see...Tigers?” He did like those cool-looking stripes.

“Tigers it is!” That's when the Imp snapped his fingers, and in a familiar-looking puff of pink smoke, four feral tigers suddenly materialized on the floor, snarling and starving. “Now it's their turn! Okay boys, meat or veggies?” The tigers roared unanimously before leaping off in different directions, trying to turn the audience into prey. The crowd screamed in terror, running for their lives and knocking over various expensive displays.

Goofy only had his trousers and his quick thinking. “Daisy, get the people outside! Horace, Panchito, Jose, Donald, round up the kitty-cats!” Hitching his boxers up, he ran for the closest tiger that was trying to corner some frightened children, jumped on its back, and began to wrestle it away, which would have looked brave and heroic if he wasn't as thin as a pipe cleaner. The others ran to follow his commands, with Panchito's guns out and ready, Jose lighting up the tip of his umbrella, Horace pumping his fists and Donald summoning lightning through his fingers.

Minnie kept her back to Mickey, trying to find where the lid had dropped, while Mickey himself was stunned. “What are you doing?!” he demanded of the Imp, anger beginning to seep through.

“I'm playing, of course,” the Imp said with a shrug. “Oh, don't tell me you're one of those boring types that cares whether people live or die. That's not fun at all!”

“You can't go around hurting people just for your entertainment!” Mickey shouted, feeling heat in his face, and knowing it was a sign of things to come. He could feel his entire body clenching up in an attempt to stop his anger, even though a tiny part of him kept trying to say it was justifiable. Minnie continuously cleared her throat, trying to jar in some common sense without saying a word, but she went ignored. “You're not that heartless!”

“Sure I am.” the Imp willed himself up a few white balls to juggle, and Mickey was not entirely sure they weren't small skulls.

“I know you might think you are,” Mickey tried a different angle, remembering how he had saved Donald and Minnie in his own way, “But no matter what anyone has told you, it's not true. You can change, if you want to! Deep down, everyone just wants someone to be with, and you don't have to be cruel to find them. If you look inside yourself, you'll see, you're not heartless!”

“Buddy, I'm literally heartless.” The Imp stuck his hands within his chest, opening it like a cabinet door to reveal only a dark, swirling vortex inside. “No heart, no soul. If I may say, it's one of the few things my creator got right about me, even if it was a big mistake.” He then slammed the “door” shut, dusting his hands off. “Speaking of big mistakes, you're not seriously thinking you can harm me with that little knife you've got there, do you?”

Actually Mickey hadn't brought his sword out of its scabbard yet – he had been reluctant to touch it ever since he fought the Glooms. He was still reluctant to use it now, and tried not to look at it, tried not to think about the anger that was bubbling underneath his voice. “We don't have to fight, we... we can work this out! We can find a fun game for you that doesn't involve anyone in danger! Just give me a chance!”

The Imp rolled his head around his shoulders, beginning to giggle. “Okaaay... what are the chances you won't die if you were covered in lava?”

“What?” But after the Imp snapped his fingers, Mickey understood what the Imp meant, as a splatter of hot liquid fell from the ceiling and melted the stone floor in front of him. Looking up revealed that all the fancy chandeliers were now hosting miniature volcanoes instead of candles, each one beginning to explode and erupt. He had only seconds to run before he was under a waterfall of lava, ducking and rolling and trying to find a safe spot to hide. Minnie split in the opposite direction, scrambling to stay alive and gather both the jar and lid.

The Imp cackled, clapping his hands merrily. “Oh, you're all much better sports this time around! And I've got so many new ideas for games, so my fun can last for all eternity!” He snapped and pointed in all directions, continuing to give the crew more obstacles, such as the stained glass windows shattering, the carpets turning into marbles, and the potted plants now becoming flesh-eating Venus fly traps. Watching the men struggle just to stay alive was pleasure beyond measure, and he became so distracted by it that he almost didn't notice Minnie coming up behind him with the jar and lid.

Keyword here being “almost”. The Imp spotted her shadow on the floor, and whirled around fast enough to knock the lid out of her hand. “Ah-ah-ah! Nice try there, missy, but I'm never going back in there again!” He lifted his hand to cast another spell, but stopped, as if noticing something. His eyes flew up and down, and then, amused, he said, “You're one of the originals! An actual genie!”

For the first time all day, Minnie found her voice, and she swallowed hard, holding the old jar to her chest. “How did you know?”

“How do you think?” The Imp laughed, and then floated upside-down, tsking. “I kind of pity you, being bound by all those silly rules, plus the whole heart and soul thing... Of course, that couldn't be helped, given how you were created.” He then cocked his head, “Do you remember how you were created?” The giddiness in his tone indicated he already knew the answer.

Minnie went silent for a moment, hearing nothing but her own heartbeat. There were flashes in her mind, of a time long ago that she struggled to remember. But the pain, oh the pain, she remembered that all too well – she didn't want to remember. There was something dreadful and horrible in his question and implications. She only knew of her time with her masters and their cruelty, not her origins. But – but surely there had to be a beginning to it, so why couldn't she remember it? Was she created in the same way the Imp was?

The Imp – this mischievous, heartless creature that was enjoying her suffering – she would only be satisfying him by giving into her fears now. There was a time to question her life, but it sure wasn't now. Not when her friends were in danger, with Mickey hiding under a wooden desk, his last refuge before the lava burned it away – who still wouldn't wish for anything, lest it cause her pain. “You... you...” Her heart beat faster, wilder, and she wouldn't allow herself to be a useless damsel in distress. “You're not even a real Imp, I bet!”

The Imp stopped where he was, his crooked smile now disjointed, eyes bulging. “Excuse me?”

“I said, you're not even a real Imp.” It was a risky plan, but if it worked out... “You think you're so great and powerful, but you got trapped in some jar?” She then let out a fake laugh, turning her head away. “At least I can go in and out of my lamp whenever I want. You know what? I bet you've just been hiding away all this time because you know you're a big phony.”

“PHONY?!” The Imp screamed, now right-side-up, veins popping up all over his small face. “I am the all-powerful Imp! I have no rules, I have no limits! I can do anything I want! There's nothing I can't do! Just watch!” With a snap of his fingers, the brick walls suddenly flowed away like pushed curtains, revealing the outside world. “See?”

Minnie pretended to inspect her nails. “Is that all? I can do that. I bet you can't send all the people in the village back to their homes.”

“Of course I can do that!” The Imp hopped up and down in the air, his tantrum getting worse. “Just watch!” Another snap, and each of the frightened people vanished, now safe and confused back in their houses all over the world. “See? See? Look how amazing I am!”

“Child's play.” Minnie yawned, including boredom in her act. “I've sent send hundreds of people anywhere for my masters before. I bet you can't turn those man-eating tigers into harmless kittens.”

“Yes I can!” And again, with a snap of his fingers, the Imp displayed his magic – the tigers that had been about to gnaw on Donald's backside were now fluffy orange kittens batting at his loose feathers. “Without even breaking a sweat!”

“Oh, dear, is that really all you can do?” Minnie scoffed, making sure to pick up the lid when the Imp wasn't looking. “My last Master had me transforms animals all the time, I could do it in my sleep.” She then sighed wistfully, “I don't know, maybe if you could transform yourself, I'd think you were something special...”

“I can transform myself into anything and anyone!” To prove it, the Imp began to shapeshift several times – a towering Minotaur, a giant hissing spider, and a multi-headed hydra before poofing back to his original shape. “There is nothing I can't do!”

This was the point of the plan that any outsider who could hear Minnie knew what would happen – she'd ask him to transform into something very small, then capture him, and the day would be saved. Unfortunately, Mickey was far enough away that he didn't hear the plan at all, and all he saw was the Imp displaying his phenomenal powers to the girl he cared for. All his stored anger slammed into his body with the force of a typhoon, mixed in with what had caused it the last time – fear of losing Minnie.

Holding back his anger hadn't controlled it at all, only stored it away for a worse explosion. But one never realizes how truly furious they are when they are in its deepest depths – all he could think of was making sure the Imp didn't hurt Minnie, if he so much as thought of laying a hand on her, not after all she'd been through, not after what Mickey put her through, and he was up and his scimitar was out and he was running and - “DON'T YOU TOUCH HER!”

Both enchanted creatures stopped in place, startled as Mickey ran forward, ready to plunge his sword right into the Imp, but of course the Imp knew well enough to poof himself away from the danger – which left Mickey mere seconds to stop before he'd plunge his sword right into Minnie. He yelped, and his feet skidded, and he fell forward, landing on top of her feet. He scrambled to get to his knees, shaking at how easily he'd fallen into rage again. “Minnie – Minnie I'm – I'm so sorry-” he stammered,  and Minnie had that look again – that look of fear, of him.

“That was a close one!” The Imp reappeared atop the melting chandelier, wiping a bead of panicked sweat from his brow. “If I had fallen for that, I never would have forgiven myself.” The rest of the crew began to gather together, Donald trying to see if Daisy was all right, Panchito pulling Jose away from a dangerous spill of lava, and nearly-naked Goofy with completely-clothed Horace having pummeled and punished the plants.

“Fallen?” Mickey stared at the Imp, and then jumped up on his feet, guilt and horror weighing on his chest. “Minnie? I thought... I didn't... I'm sorry, I thought he was-”

“I was so close, Master!” Minnie suddenly shrieked at him, perhaps the first time she'd raised her voice at him in ages, -  if ever? - even if the fear in her eyes wasn't gone.  She was still afraid of him on some level, but fear was now just in the way. “I almost had him! Why didn't you just trust me?”

“I'm – I'm sorry! I'm really sorry!”

“Saying sorry isn't good enough!” For this, for that, for all he'd done, Minnie had taken her voice back and couldn't stop using it, shoving the jar into Mickey's hands. She had so many masters apologize after breaking their promises to her, and what good had those futile words been? What good was it when Mickey had nearly murdered Grimwold? “You have to do better! You have to be better! You can't just ignore everything around you and hope it turns out okay! If you want to help us, help your parents, help me, then work with me! Talk to me! Listen to me! If you really want to wish me to be a real person, then start treating me like one!”

Mickey's mouth hung open like a gaping fish. As a prince, and son to someone so beloved and famous, he'd been treated almost like a god his entire life. Save for once murderous attempt on his life, no one had ever actually yelled at him before. He wasn't quite sure what to think. He almost kind of liked it. He wished he had a moment to process it.

Not that the Imp was going to give him one. “You remember I'm still here, right?” He didn't like being ignored.

“YOU SHUT UP!” Minnie snapped, turning to the Imp, her own anger loud instead of violent like Mickey's. “Do you have any idea what it's like to be treated as if you're a child when you're actually hundreds of years old? If I don't know something, it's because people haven't told me, not because I don't understand it! So how am I supposed to help anyone if they don't tell me what's wrong?” She hadn't even known she'd been bottling so much inside and had no idea how to make it stop. “I have a heart, and a mind, and a voice, and I'm not going to let anyone stop me from using them, including myself! So buzz off, you wretched creature!”

The Imp clicked his tongue to his big tooth. “So, you don't care for me? That's fine... How about if you find the other me's more appealing?” With a much louder snap of his fingers, the ground began to rumble, and there were several destructive roars echoing outside of the building. Through the open “window” the Imp had created, the crew could now see that the Imp had brought all of the statues to life, each one mindless and violent, ripping up poles from the ground, smashing their fists through walls, and chasing after the citizens of Muhtal.

Minnie's fiery spirit was extinguished. “I... probably shouldn't have yelled at the all-powerful chaotic monster.”

“Probably not,” Mickey agreed. But there was no time for any debate, as one of the bellowing creatures with especially big teeth was heading right for them. Mickey grabbed Minnie by the wrist and began to run outside with the rest of the crew in tow, although he had no idea where any safe space would be. With every turn of his head, he could see another part of the amusement park being twisted by the Imp's machinations – the twirling cups were now spinning out of control, rolling on the ground like deadly tops. The caramel for the sweets was now overflowing and threatening to drown anyone who came close. The dapper choir-men were now being trapped in colorful prison bars from their own uniform. Goofy and the crew struggled to save as many of the park employees as they could, but it was becoming obvious they'd need just as much help saving themselves.

It wasn't long before Daisy became covered in caramel, with Donald unable to reach her as he'd been trapped by the bizarre rainbow prison. Jose and Panchito tried to rescue an employee that was stuck up in a coconut tree, which became difficult when the coconuts became carnivorous and hungry for fingers. Goofy grabbed a mouse in each hand, trying to carry them under his arms before the former statues wanted to take their current lives, and Horace was in for a ride trying to stop the cup rides.

The Imp watched all of this unfold, and then yawned, one hand over his mouth. “And here I thought you guys might be different... What a let-down! I'm going to keep searching for a proper playmate. Toodles!” He hopped along in the air, leaving the park behind, a whistle on his lips.

Horace managed to punch one of the spinning cups fast enough to chip it, but not enough to entirely stop it. “Aw, I'm only half as strong without Clarabelle here!” He groaned, shaking his sore fist. “Where is that woman?!”

~*~

Of course, Clarabelle had no idea what kind of trouble her makeshift family had gotten into. Had she known, she would have easily gotten over her tantrum and rushed into battle. But as it was, she was grumbling and pouting out in the desert terrain, still bitter about how she'd been treated. “They don't appreciate me, that's the problem,” she said to no one, walking on the sand, arms crossed. “Horace, he's never appreciated me, not one bit! And after all we've been through together, he says those things to me! Why, he's the one who fought so hard to make me love him when I was ga-ga for Goofy. What am I now, used goods?” The more she ranted, the more she raved, the worse she felt, like a cycle of sourness. If she could use find a proper way to vent it out, maybe she could go back to the ship, but if she was alone, she couldn't yell at anyone, nor give them a good beat-down.

She got her wish in the worst way. The Imp hovered through the sky, pondering where to go for his next round of fun when he spotted the lone woman muttering to herself in the sand. He smirked, seeing her more as a sitting duck than a walking cow. “Poor dear, she's missed all the good times at Imp-ny world... why don't I give her a rockin' good time?” A snap, and the boulders high atop the hills began to wiggle, then roll, then fly right off the cliff sides, aiming right at Clarabelle. The Imp sat atop a dusty dead tree, munching on popcorn he wished himself up.

But she heard the noise, and when she looked up and saw a very unusual landslide, she wasn't afraid at all. “Finally!” She cheered out loud, knocking her fists together. “Maybe someone's looking out for me after all!” She took three steps back, and just as the first boulder was about to smash her into smithereens, she lashed out her leg, shattering it into hundreds of pieces. The Imp stopped mid-chew, a few kernels falling out of his mouth. Clarabelle let out a wild laugh, and then twisted her hips, launching another hard kick at the next rock, this one splitting into smaller pieces. She then charged forward, grabbing the next obstacle and heaving herself up in the air, kicking up hard, then flipping over onto the next rock, each move leading into another – she'd stand on her hands and launch attack after attack with her feet, she'd backflip and strike a powerful blow as she landed, sweat dripping from her body, her long ponytail fluttering behind her like a majestic cape. All the while she smiled, smiled, smiled, a pretty smile for a woman full of confidence.

It's a good thing that the Imp technically didn't need to breathe because he surely would've choked by now. Though he'd only been free for a short time, both during his birth and here in the present, he'd never seen anyone with such fantastic power, and such fantastic beauty. When did they start making women like this?! That serene smile, the one he'd made – she was actually enjoying what he'd done! Had he found what he desired since his creation – had he finally found his perfect playmate? Oh, no, no, she was much more than that!

Clarabelle bounced from one heel to the other, back and forth, her anger now completely gone. “Ooooh, I feel so much better! Why, I bet I could go another few rounds! C'mooon, c'mooon, bring it on! Heeheeheehee~!” A smaller boulder came rolling down, and she easily launched it back up into the air with one kick, her cowbell clattering against her chest.

“That... was... AMAZING!”

Clarabelle stopped her victory dance, having not expected company. When she turned around, the Imp was hovering below her, his eyes shining, hands clasped together. “You're the most perfect woman who has ever existed! You have no idea how long I've waited for someone like you to appear! It can only be you!”

She blinked a few times, eyebrow raised. What was this little boy doing out here all by his lonesome? Sure, he was floating, but after all the adventures and weirdness she'd seen as part of Goofy's crew, this was barely a blip on the radar. “Aw, honey, you shouldn't be out here!” she kindly chided, lightly patting him on his head. “Why don't we find your mommy and daddy and get you-”

BONK!

Clarabelle was a powerful warrior, this is true, but when it came to brains, she tended to come last. For example, not realizing that all that comes up tends to come down. This resulted in the rock she kicked up now landing hard on her head, knocking her out instantly, her body flopping onto the sand, her tongue lolled out ridiculously. There was definitely going to be a bump on her noggin.

The Imp looked down at the unconscious cow, and he grinned maliciously, rubbing his small hands together. “Who needs a perfect playmate... when I can have the perfect bride?”

[justanotherwannabeclassic]

In Another World

While visiting Storybrooke, Alice struggles with seeing the life her father could have lived and wonders if he would have been happier without her.

Notes: So I've succumbed to the world of Knightrook and I REGRET NOTHING. So here's Knightrook with a dash of Captain Swan. In terms of timeline, I'm going to say that for Captain Swan, 3-4 years have passed since the left Henry, Regina, and Wish!Hook. Obviously, this is set post-curse. [AO3]   Alice pressed her face against window, watching as the world around her sped by. Maine was full of trees, and it reminded her a bit of where she came from, only this time she would have the ability to explore this place more. She’d done quite a bit exploring over the past few weeks. Not too long after the curse had broken and the villains defeated, she and Papa had decided to take a trip around the States to see all of the sights. They’d plotted over maps and researched the different places they’d like to visit, and – oh – how wonderful it had been.    

The Grand Canyon had been her favorite. It was so large and vast, and it appeared to be somewhere someone could go easily find himself or herself lost. And the scenery was so different! The colors were all reds and oranges and brown, and the flora was nothing like she’d seen before. She and Papa had gone hiking, and she’d reveled in how she could stretch her legs and climb to high places and end back up on the ground again. They’d taken so many picture, she and Papa, his arm draped around her shoulder with twin smiles on their faces.

It was fantastic.

And now she and Papa were on their way to Maine to visit Papa’s other self, the one in Henry’s book. No, the one who inspired the character in Henry’s book. It was so strange to imagine two versions of her father, but it wasn’t the maddest thing she’d seen by far. Regardless, she was eager to meet the man that shared Papa’s face and much of his history.

Alice was curious at how different Storybrooke would be from the other places she had visited. She’d learned from Regina and Henry that it was small. Not like a village, but nowhere near as large as Seattle or the other cities she and Papa had stopped at along the way. (New York City had been amazing with its bright lights and towering skyscrapers.) At the very least, she doubted that the town would be as odd as Wonderland.

“Ah, there it is,” her father commented.

Alice looked ahead to see a “Welcome to Storybrooke” sign come into view. She was practically vibrating in her seat now. Henry had given her a list of all the things they should do in town. Alice wanted to eat at Granny’s and see the harbor, and maybe explore the library. Papa had brought her many books growing up, and this world had many books more. She wondered if Storybrooke had different books that Seattle.

Alice wondered many things.

She wondered about other-Papa’s family. She’d read about Emma Swan in Henry’s book, and Papa had told her how the woman had saved his life with her magic. But people in real life were different that people in the stories. She should know. Alice, herself, was nothing like her counterpart in the other book, aside from her name and similar looks. Because of this, she was quite eager to meet the mysterious Emma Swan…and her daughter.

The daughter definitely piqued Alice’s interests. In a way, it was like she had a much, much younger sibling out there. She’d always wanted a little brother or sister, someone to keep her company during her lonely years trapped in the tower. And now she had one! Sort of. They shared similar to DNA, and the daughter belonged to the alternate version of her father, but still. It was a start.

What would be a better start was if she knew the girl’s name. Papa said his other self hadn’t mentioned it on the phone, and Henry hadn’t responded to her text asking. He, Ella, and Lucy had visited Storybrooke weeks ago. Alice had seen pictures on their Instagram accounts, happy and smiling and surrounded by a crowd of people. She’d seen Papa’s other self in one of those pictures, a small dark-haired girl in his arms.

“Do you think they’ll like me?” Alice asked aloud for the first time. It was something she’d been thinking on for quite awhile. “The other you and his family, that is.”

Papa glanced over to her, his expression bewildered. “Why wouldn’t they? You are, without a doubt, one of the most likable people I have ever met. And I’ve met many over the centuries.”

“I know that,” she replied, though it was a partial lie. The truth of the matter was that she was worried. Even though she belonged to different Killian Jones than the one she was going to visit, what if her presence made Emma uncomfortable? Alice knew how step mothers could be, not that Emma Swan was truly a step mother. But she’d seen how Ella had been treated, and she couldn’t help but think of all the possibilities. “But what if they don’t?”

“Then this realm is far more absurd than either you or I ever thought,” Papa replied.

Then the GPS chirped, letting them know they were almost to their destination. They had been directed down a series of streets, taking them to a residential part of town. The lawns were most immaculate and far more sizable than anything she’d ever seen in Hyper Heights. Thankfully, she did not see any toadstools. That simply wouldn’t do.

Papa eventually pulled the car to stop in front of large home. There was a sign on the mailbox that read “Swan-Jones” in curled letters. Alice studied the home. It was tall, not as tall as her tower, but there were many levels. Like the other homes, the lawn was pristine, and bushes lined the front walk.

She let out a low whistle.

“Nice place.”

“Aye,” her father agreed. He quirked his head to the side, “Shall we?”

“It’s be a pity if we didn’t go, considering we went all this way,” Alice answer, and go they went.

The air in Storybrooke was fresher than in Hyperion Heights. She appreciated that. Everything felt cleaner here, and far more peaceful. She wondered if one could see the stars at night. The light of the city obscured them back in Seattle, and if there was one thing she missed about the Enchanted Forest, it was seeing the stars. She’d seen plenty while traveling across the country with Papa, beautiful white lights speckling the sky. Papa had taught her all the constellations years ago. Did this other Killian Jones intend to do the same with his daughter?

Well, there was only one way to find out, so when they reached the front door she knocked.

It was few moments more for a woman to answer the door. Alice recognized her immediately. It was Emma Swan. She had gotten a haircut since the last picture of Henry’s she had seen. Her blonde hair was now shoulder-length, but she was still just as beautiful. Emma’s smile turned wide when she saw them. “You guys are here! Come in!” She opened the door wide, and Alice craned her head to see the inside of the house. It was spacious, with framed pictures on the wall and books stacked in shelves. She noticed stairs winding up to another floor. Yes, the house was certainly larger than her room in her tower or even the apartment she and Papa now shared in Hyperion Heights.

“Your home is lovely, Emma,” Papa said as they entered the Swan-Jones home. Alice stayed silent, instead choosing to walk over to the collage of frames on the wall. There were wedding photos, pictures of Henry in his teens, and plenty of a who she assumed was Emma’s daughter. Alice studied Papa’s other self in each of these photos and cemented his smile to memory. He looked quite happy in each of these photos surrounded by his family and friends. Alice didn’t remember Papa having many friends while she was growing up. He’d remained isolated, though unlike her, it was by choice.

“Where’s everyone else?” Alice asked suddenly, realizing that neither her Papa’s other self nor his daughter were her. She could hear voices upstairs, but she wasn’t sure it was them. The voices very well could have belonged to someone else.

“They’re upstairs. Alice just woke up from her nap, and Killian is wrangling her. They’ll be down any minute. Alice is very excited to meet you both.”

Alice startled at Emma’s words. “Alice? She has my name?” “Yeah, it seems like their devilishly handsome good looks aren’t the same thing the two Killian Jones have in common. They like the same baby names, too,” Emma replied with a laugh. Alice glanced over to Papa, who was scratching behind his ear. Alice supposed she shouldn’t be surprised that her father’s other version had named his daughter Alice. Papa had named her after his mother, and it only made sense that the other man’s mother was Alice, as well. Still, Alice couldn’t deny the knot that was beginning to form in her stomach. Before she could fully contemplate her feelings on the matter, she was distracted by a whoop from the stairs. A man who looked exactly like Papa was walking down the stairs carrying a small child who looked nothing like her. This other Alice’s dark hair was was braided into pigtails, and atop her hair sat a plastic-looking bejeweled crown.

“Hear ye, hear ye, Princess Alice is now awake and ready to greet her most esteemed guests,” the other Killian Jones announced. The girl in his arms waved excitedly with one hand while the other clutched a stuffed animal, and Alice was taken back to when Papa would play pretend with her. She never pretended to be a princess, though, as Papa had explained that royalty was never to be trusted. Alice could be a lady, of course, or sometimes a pirate queen -- but never a princess in a frilly gown and crown.

“I keep forgetting I’m royalty, and she somehow has it imprinted to memory,” Alice heard Emma murmur to Papa eliciting a chuckle. Oh right. Emma was a princess. She wondered if that made Papa's other self a prince. Was he happy as a prince? “I think you have your parents to thank for that, my love,” the other version of Papa replied to Emma. He angled his face toward his daughter, “Milady, how about we greet our new visitors.” The little girl waved excitedly, her words coming out in a jumble. “HiImAlice.”

“I’m Alice, too” Alice said, and the little girl. She felt awkward standing there is in the foyer with Papa and this alternate version of his family. Unwilling to let it show, she said, “It’s nice to meet you.” The other Alice thrust out the stuffed animal in her arms. Upon closer inspection, it seemed to be alligator. “This is Crocy. He’s my friend.” This caused Papa to laugh loudly, a joke that clearly Alice didn’t understand. His other self looked mildly amused at the exchange, and Alice wondered what information she was missing. She hated feeling out of the loop. It made her feel a little too crazy.

“It was a gift from her grandfather. He thought it’d be funny,” Papa’s other self explained, though not truly. The man then smiled wide at Papa. “It’s good to see you again. I’m glad you found one another.”

“Would you like to sit down? There’s no need to keep standing?” Papa’s other self asked, and he led them into the living den. He sat the small Alice down, and she walked over to a box of toys, upending the entire thing into the floor. Papa gratefully sat down, but Alice took that as an invitation to inspect the home. As Papa and his other self caught up in the background -- Alice heard him sharing the story of how they cured his poisoned heart -- she admired the array of photos and knick-knacks scattered about. It was clear this version of Papa liked to keep things orderly. There was hardly any dust, and every item seemed to have its place. She wondered how long it took for them to clean this house. Her room in the tower didn’t take long to clean. She recalled singing songs with Papa as they cleaned. Did his other self do the same with his Alice?

“She’s doing surprisingly well with the two of us,” Alice heard Papa comment. They were talking about the other Alice.

“We, ah, sort of explained that you were my twin. She has twin boys in her preschool, so it helped her understand,” the other Killian explained. Alice felt a stab of jealousy at that. She hadn’t been able to have friends as a small child. She wondered if this Alice knew how lucky she was. She lived in a large house that she could leave. She had friends. She had a mother.

“Smart, and the names didn’t give her pause?”

“Well, she knows has two Uncle Liams, I don’t think an ‘Uncle Killian’ was too much for her honestly,” Emma added. Alice knew of her two Uncles. Papa had told her their sad stories, but she was surprised a three-year-old knew. Papa was, as well.

“She knows about them both?”

“Uncle Liam brings me presents,” the younger Alice piped up. “He’s gon’ bring me a huge kraken.”

Papa appeared confused a the small girl’s exclamation. Alice wondered how a kraken would even fit into the house. “So he’s safe then?”

“We reunited a awhile back. He’s on a vessel titled the Nautilus now, and visits every now and then,” the other Killian Jones explained. Alice could tell he was choosing his words carefully. “Alice has taken a liking to him.”

“He’s forgiven me -- I mean, you?”

“Aye, after some time, at least.”

“That’s...that’s fantastic.” The awe was evident in Papa’s voice, but there was something else there too. Regret? Jealousy? Alice couldn’t quite place it, but she didn’t like what was lurking there beneath the surface. “So he’s okay? Truly?”

“Do you have any pets?” Alice asked, pulling the conversation from brothers and not-so-lost brothers. One of her earliest memories was Papa bringing home a small, white kitten for her to befriend. Alice had named her Dinah. She’d loved that cat. “I like cats. And rabbits.”

The small Alice perked up with that, and with an exaggerated frown announced, “No. No kitten for me.” “Maybe if you show you can be responsible, Santa will bring you one,” Emma said in a sing-song voice. Santa didn’t exist for her, or anyone in the Enchanted Forest for that matter. Alice knows that if she thought the man was real, she would have tried to meet him to befriend someone else.

“I’m ‘sponible, Mummy.” As if to prove her point, she closed her eyes tightly. Suddenly, the toys that she had earlier scattered about vanished from the floor, reappearing in the box she upended. “See?”

“You’ve got magic?” Alice asked, kneeling down to face the girl. Small Alice nodded excitedly.

“We’re not sure if it’s an inherited thing, or the ‘product of True Love’ thing,” Alice heard Emma explain. The other woman’s words shook her. Product of True Love. Inherited magic. Her heart began to pound in her chest. “Likely the True Love thing, I’d imagine,” she said.

As if sensing her discomfort, Papa changed the subject. “So, what’s there to do around this town? Henry mentioned Granny’s and her ‘must have’ onion rings.”

“Daddy takes me sailin’ on his ship. It’s big,” the other Alice said. She raised her hands above her head to indicate the height.

“Reminds me of the Jolly,” Papa said, smiling fondly. As much as he tried not to show it, Alice knew he missed his ship. Alice, herself, wish she could have seen it.

“It is the Jolly,” Papa’s other self said. Alice’s eyes widened. He had the ship too?

“Really? You have her?” Papa was astounded. “I haven’t seen her in ages.” “Would you like to? I can poof us there,” Emma suggested.

“I would love...Alice, would you like to see the Jolly Roger?” The longing in his voice was evident, and Alice tried to pretend it didn’t hurt. He gave it up to be with her.

“Sure,” she replied, though she felt as if she was lying through her teeth. Emma looked over at her strangely, and Alice tried not to shrink from her gaze. “Are we going? How does this poofing work, exactly?” Emma explained that they all needed to hold hands, and Papa took her hand into his. Alice squeezed it tightly, hoping that he would never let her go, and in that moment she was afraid. Not of the magic, no. She’d been around magic plenty, but of everything else. Of Storybrooke. Of Papa’s other self with his beautiful life of all the things Papa could ever want. And then a puff of smoke engulfed them, and Alice felt the familiar tugging sensation of being transported somewhere new and different. In no time at all, the slightly floral scent of the Swan-Jones home was replaced by the salty air of the harbor, and they were standing on the deck of a ship. Papa gasped beside her, and he released her hand. He turned to look at her, “I told you she was marvel, didn’t I, love?”

“Yeah, you did.” Papa had regaled her with tales of sailing on this ship, but he’d told he’d given it up long ago to be with her. Alice used to dream of sailing on the ship with Papa, sailing far, far away from her tower to lands unknown. But they never had the chance. She had been trapped, and even if he wasn’t, he no longer had the ship. But the Killian Jones of this world could still sail. He’d never lost it for good, it seemed. He could take his Alice sailing. It made a pretty picture in her head, a vision of Papa sailing the world with a little girl in his True Love -- something her Papa never had the opportunity to have. Because of her. The Killian Jones of this world had never been shackled to a life on the land, because he’d never had her. He’d fathered a different Alice of his own, the product of True Love , as in he’d fallen in love. He got married. He had his beloved ship, and even met his other brother Liam and rekindled their broken relationship. In short, in a world where she never existed, Papa’s life was infinitely better. “Alice, what’s wrong?”

It took her father’s question to make her realize that she’d been crying. She brushed away the tears, and walked away from him. “Nothing.”

“Sweetheart, you’re crying.”

She looked around to see Papa’s other self watching her with concern, his daughter in his arms. Emma held onto his hook, appearing equally worried. What a brilliant and beautiful family they made, perfect in every way. How much better his world was without her. Alice ran.

A small voice in her head told her she was being silly, but she pushed forward, ignoring Papa’s shout of her name. She wished desperately for a looking glass or for a portal to gobble her up and send her to Wonderland, Agrabah, or even her tower -- anywhere but where could see the evidence of just how happy Papa would be without her.

How stupid she’d been to believe this was something she’d actually wanted to see. Unsure of where to go, Alice all but collapsed onto a bench. It reminded her of one of her favorite spots in Hyperion Heights. She wished she could magic away there, to go back and hide, and to forget this day ever happened. Perhaps a curse could once again sweep her away. At least then she’d forget how she’d ruined Papa’s life.

She heard Papa’s familiar footfalls, but refused to turn around to acknowledge him. Instead she sat resolutely looking forward into the harbor, watching the seagulls fly around. When she had been trapped in her tower, she envied the way they could just fly away. Currently, she envied them still.

Papa sat down next to her. Alice could feel his concerned gaze, but she continued to not say anything more. “ You get your stubbornness from me, I’m afraid,” he’d told her ages ago.

“I shouldn’t have brought you here.” Whatever she had been expecting him to say, it wasn’t this. “I should have thought about what seeing their family could have done to you.”

Alice sniffed in an attempt to will away her tears. Finally turning to him, she asked, “Are you jealous?” “Jealous?” He studied her intently, and for once she couldn’t read his expression. “Are you?”

“I’ve been jealous of many different people for many different things,” she replied. She’d been jealous of him for his ability to leave. Jealous of Hatter for his hats. Jealous of Lucy for two loving parents. Jealous of Drizella of her relationship with Gothel, no matter how twisted. Jealous of Alice Swan-Jones for seemingly having it all. But that wasn’t the crux of the matter, was it? “But what about you? He has your ship. A wife. Even has his own Alice with her own magic.” “Aye, but she’s not you.” He was speaking in the tone he used to use when she’d cry about how she could never leave her room, the one that said he understood. This time, however, she wasn’t sure that he did. “Alice, there’s nothing in this world that--”

“Can you really say that? I’ve seen the pictures, seen how happy he is. Can you honestly tell me that you wouldn’t want his life?”

“Not without you,” Papa told her. “Never without you.” Alice bit back a sob, no longer sure if her father was just placating her or telling her the truth. She was terrified it was the latter. “He has his own Alice.”

“Who I’m sure is a lovely girl, but she’s much too young to play a good game of chess,” Papa replied, “and you know how I love a good game of chess.” He was trying to make her laugh, but she was still in foul enough of a mood that it wasn’t working. Besides, eventually the other girl would be grown, and she could play chess. Alice had spied a chess set in one of the rooms in their home. “Alice, talk to me. Would you like the leave? We can set sail as soon as you like.”

And what did she like? She could hardly decide it. She wished to leave and put this behind them, but she didn’t want to run away and hide. She’d done so much of that. More than anything, she just wanted to cry, so she told Papa, “I would like to be alone.”

“Alice…”

“Please, Papa,” she pleaded, and she knew he would acquiesce to her request. He always did. She was right. He sighed heavily and leaned over to kiss her on the head. “I love you, darling, and nothing could ever change that.” And then he was gone, walking away from her just as she asked. Alice felt a sort of emptiness, but she knew she couldn’t face him. Not now, anyway.  Not after she knowing all the pain she had caused him over the years.

“He’s right, you know.” Alice looked over her shoulder to see Emma standing behind her. She wasn’t sure how much the other woman had heard, but she wasn’t in the mood for a lecture. “I would like to be alone, thank you.”

Emma shook her head. “Want to know something about me? I have a superpower. I can tell when people are lying.” She walked over to where Alice was sitting, and took the spot where Papa had once been. “And you, Alice Jones, are lying.” Alice didn’t confirm Emma’s assessment. If what she was saying were true, and Alice had no reason to not believe the other woman, then she would see through whatever she said next. Instead Alice swung her legs, and did her best to distract herself. “I’ve been alone most my life. I think I’m pretty good at it by now.”

“I never spent my life trapped in a tower, so I can’t totally relate, but I do know what is it like to be alone,” Emma told her. Alice scoffed in disbelief, thinking back to the many lonely days and nights wishing for a friend, and the terror she felt when Papa left to search for supplies or more food. “Though they had good reasons, my parents gave me up. The put me in a wardrobe, and I ended up on the side of the street not too far from here.”

“They just left you as a baby?” Alice felt a pang in her chest at the thought of the woman who gave birth to her.

“No one wanted me. I had a family raise me for three years before they gave up. The mother was pregnant, and she didn’t want a kid that wasn’t hers by blood, I guess.” Emma twirled the rings on her fingers as she spoke. Alice wondered if it was a tic of hers.

“So what happened next? Did someone else take you in?”

Emma laughed, but it was a bitter thing. “No. Not long term at least. I was in and out of the system until I ran away. Eventually I met a guy, thought it was true love only for him to frame me for his crimes. I ended up in jail and pregnant.”

“That’s awful,” Alice said, because she didn’t know what else to say. Her heart hurt for Emma and the story she was weaving. Papa had always tried to make her feel wanted and cared for growing up. Emma, unfortunately, didn’t have that. Alice couldn’t imagine how much worse she would have felt if she didn’t have Papa at all.

“Yeah, my life was pretty much a certain kind of hell,” Emma agreed matter-of-factly, shocking Alice with her frankness. She then turned to better face Alice. “I’m telling you this because thanks to a wish, I saw what my life would have been if it had been perfect and I had been raised by my parents and never had to live that life. I grew up in a castle like a proper princess. I still had my son, and I was safe...and I hated it.”

“You did? Why?” “Because that life wasn’t mine. I wasn’t me. Henry wasn’t my Henry. My parents weren’t themselves. It was life, a beautiful, amazing life free of pain, and if I had been the one to live only it, I might not have wanted it to change. But I knew what I was missing, so I desperately wanted to be home where I belonged.” Emma tentatively reached out to take Alice’s hand, and Alice did not pull away. “ You may think your dad’s life is better here, but he doesn’t. Not even a little bit.”

Alice once again felt the sting of tears, and she brushed the sleeve of her shirt against her eyes. She wasn’t embarrassed to have Emma Swan see her cry, not like she would have been with other strangers. Instead she felt a kindred pull the woman her Papa might have loved. “You think so?”

“I know so. Superpower, remember?” Emma’s words made Alice smile a tiny bit. “And even if I didn’t have my superpower, I would still know. Call it a parent thing.”

“Not all parents,” she replied darkly. After all, not all parents cared for their children.

Emma’s face softened. “No, not all parents. But I know Killian Jones, and when he devotes his heart to someone, he devotes it one hundred percent, no ifs, ands, or buts about it.”

“He’s a good father,” Alice said. There were times she thought that no other girl could have a father quite like hers. She still did.

“It shows. His kid seems pretty great,” Emma nudged her. Alice thought she wasn’t acting great, nor did Emma know her well, but the other woman continued, “When Henry visited, he told us quite a bit about you. He said you traveled to many, many places all by yourself, which takes guts.”

“Did he mention Wonderland?” she asked, hoping her sarcastic tone hid her blush. “Everyone only mentions Wonderland.”

“It might have come up. But, hey, it’s someplace I’ve never been, so that’s pretty cool.”

“It was quite the curious place,” Alice replied. She’d yet to visit anywhere like it, which honestly was probably a good thing. “I’m sorry I went a little mad earlier. It wasn’t the best impression of me.”

Emma shrugged. “There’s no need to apologize. If I were you, I would have freaked out a bit too. Your reaction was perfectly normal.”

“Thank you for understanding,” Alice replied. “I’m not always good with other people.”

“It’s okay, not everyone is,” Emma assured her. Alice was beginning to understand why Papa’s other self loved her so much. “So, how about we ditch the ship and take a pit stop to Granny’s? It’s a Storybrooke staple.”

Alice nodded and smiled. “Do you think Granny can make marmalade sandwiches?”

Emma leaned closer and with a conspiratorial smile said, “We’re giving her two versions of Killian Jones. She’ll make whatever we want.” Emma stood, and reached out her hand. “Shall we?”

“We shall.” But Alice didn’t take Emma’s hand. Instead she raced to find Papa and pull him into a hug, to tell him she loved him, and that she loved her life with him.

[samingtonwilson]

Marriage Material - Part 19 - Jim Kirk

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10 / Part 11 / Part 12 / Part 13 / Part 14 / Part 15 / Part 16 / Part 17 / Part 18

Summary: in this chapter, the walls are foul.

Warnings: language

A/N: IM SO SORRY IT’S TAKEN ME SO LONG TO WRITE THIS. hopefully it’s good enough to make up for the waiting period. excuse typos, i had a real mess this morning uploading this without power-- INSANE.

Jim had to test the waters. He didn’t want to ask any questions outright, nor did he feel it was wise to. He needed to test the waters one toe at a time.

It wasn’t that he was afraid you’d run off if any of the questions were too abrupt— he was actually certain you’d run off if any of the questions were too abrupt. Some questions, though, he deemed totally unquestionable even if disguised in the thickest costume. After all, there could be no subtle way of asking, “Is it a deal breaker that I possibly I kept you married to me because I’ve always been in love with you and inflated the truth until it almost burst because I wanted to make sure you’d agree?”

He thought he might try to drop hints about it, maybe pretend to have taken up that interest in literature you were trying so hard to impress upon him. Of course, there was no way he could fabricate a plot and give it a well-known name without being too obvious seeing as you walked around with an encyclopedic knowledge he was surprised didn’t cause your head to fall off your shoulders.

Then again, it would take someone with a shocking lack of knowledge to think Wuthering Heights was about accidental marriages on Vegas-like planets rather than what it was really about— which a sorely unknowledgeable Jim assumed was an apartment building filled to the brim with drama like one of his mother’s daily soaps.

He did dwell on presenting it as something that happened to a friend of his—he just had no way of doing that without making it painfully obvious. You also knew most of his friends and they all made much better decisions than he did, so that idea was dead on arrival.

Leonard thought each idea was absurd and gave Jim a firm lecture on the importance of honesty, even if it led to a result not desired by any party in question. The lecture, though, flowed through one ear and swam out of the other.

When he entered your shared quarters with a knock that went unanswered, his eyes went directly to the bed. He frowned at your coughing, sneezing, sniffling form as you sat with your back against the wall behind you.

He tilted his head when he noticed you staring at the wall.

“Grey walls. It makes me think of all the grey things I ever saw— not beautiful ones like British shorthair cats and grey eyes but foul, bad grey things.”

He snorted loud enough to finally gain your attention, heavy-lidded, dull eyes of exhaustion meeting his. “I really hope you’re quoting something and you didn’t come up with that in your infinite misery.”

“Ah, it’s John!” he cringed at the sound of your stuffy, nasally voice and could just imagine how much your loud volume exasperated the soreness in your throat. “‘John is away all day, and even some nights when his cases are serious. John does not know how much I really suffer.’ Stupid, foul John— stupid, foul walls.”

He toed off his shoes and went straight to the replicator in the kitchenette. He set a mug under the machinery and leant his hip against the counter’s edge. “God, I hope it’s literature. Otherwise you’re just delirious and I don’t feel like bugging Bones again.”

“I didn’t ask you to bug him the first time!” you shouted and forced yourself into a fit of coughs, one hand covering your mouth and the other against your chest. You squeezed your eyes shut and groaned. “It’s The Yellow Wallpaper. S’a short story.”

“Yeah? What’s it about?” He took the mug and held it steady as he neared you, his eyes on the tea to make sure it didn’t splash over the porcelain rim.

“Woman has postpartum depression and her husband’s a total dick that doesn’t understand how mental health works. He confines her to this room with putrid yellow wallpaper in an old mansion and only sees her when he comes home from work— which he seldom does.” You took the tea gratefully and handed him your PADD in return, patting the area on the bed before you so he could sit. “She stares at this wallpaper all day and the depression turns into this deep level of psychosis which has her seeing a woman in the wallpaper. She slowly goes insane and peels the wallpaper off, thinking she’s freed herself from it.”

His eyes were wide as sat and he listened to you. Partially due to the sound of your thick voice, partially due to the plot you detailed for him.

“Her husband faints when she skips around the room with bleeding fingernails, screaming about being free. She just hops over him and keeps skipping.”

“Christ, I told you to read so you could relax, starlight,” he sighed, unable to help his laugh when you scowled. He lied back on the bed sideways, his legs dangling off the edge so he could stare at the ceiling. He could hear you slurping the tea carefully so as to not burn your tongue. “Not so you could see yourself and these walls in something like— Wait, who the hell is John?”

“Her husband.”

“The one that confined her to the room that drove her insane?” he asked incredulously, propping himself up onto his elbows.

“You’re confining me to this damn room!” You pointed at the box of tissues near his head and he handed it to you promptly. You tried to sniffle and nearly cried out in frustration when your nose was too stuffed to even allow a molecule of air through.

“Because you can’t even breathe through your nose,” he laughed disbelievingly, looking away as you blew your nose into the tissue. “You’re too sick to work.”

“Maybe you’re too sick to work, I’m the picture of health.”

He snorted. “Yeah? Say the word ‘mom.’”

You narrowed your eyes. “Mom-buh.”

“What was that?” he asked with a smile. “Mom-buh?”

“I’ll murder you in your sleep, John.”

Laughing, he sat up only long enough to rid himself of his command gold tunic, tossing it to the side of the room before collapsing back again. “You’re acting like Bones would even let you work. The man would have you locked away in some isolation chamber. I mean he suggested it when I comm’d him.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t take him up on that offer. What, with the way you were so enthusiastic to keep me locked in here like some sickly prisoner.”

“I’m no doctor but it seems like melodrama is a symptom of this particular virus.”

“I’m no doctor but it seems like melodrama is a symptom of this particular virus,” you repeated imitatively in a high-pitched, silly voice. “I’ll—”

“Murder me while I sleep— yeah, yeah.” He draped his arm over his eyes, his lips parted as he breathed evenly. “D’you take your medicine on time?”

“I’m a physician, shohar jaan.”

“Congratulations, your parents must be so proud. Now, did you take your medicine on time?”

You managed a smile at that, your head lolling back against the wall. “Yes, I took my medicine on time.”

“Good. Your next dose is in an hour.”

You hummed and set the mug onto the bedside table. You then shifted so you were kneeling with your knees digging into the mattress.

He could feel the mattress dip and moved his arm back to his side, watching as you struggled off the bed with a smile pulling at his lips. “Need some help?”

You shook your head stubbornly, adjusting the shirt you’d stolen from Jim around your body and holding back a shiver at the cold air hitting your bare legs. “No, I’m an adult. A strong adult, a capable—” you sneezed into your hands, groaning. “Capable adult. Independent adult.”

He nodded and held his hands up in surrender when you spun around to raise your eyebrows at him. He smiled when you turned back around, though, keeping his eyes on you as you walked into the bathroom and set your hands onto the counter.

You leant forward to narrow your eyes at your reflection. “I look like shit.”

“Because you’re sick.”

“Thanks, Detective,” you mumbled as you flicked the water on, splashing handfuls of it onto your face to hopefully wash some of the exhaustion away.

Before you could blindly reach for a towel, Jim hopped up from the bed and handed you the navy blue one that you always kept safe from him because it was your favorite. “Here.”

You whispered a thank you and dabbed your skin dry, sighing when you felt his warmth behind you as he reached for your hairbrush. You shut your eyes as he took the elastic band out of your hair, ruffling it out before pulling the brush through.

He glanced at your reflection and struggled against a smile, continuing to brush your hair and experimentally combing his fingers through. He lightly scraped his nails against your scalp and saw your tense shoulders relax, your tight grip on the counter loosen— he heard you sigh again.

Using the elastic band he’d removed, he tied your hair in a ponytail once more— a cleaner, tighter one. “That too tight?”

You shook your head and opened your eyes, meeting the gaze in the mirror. You smiled softly. “Thank you.”

He nodded, his hands sliding down your arms to your sides and landing on your hips so he could turn you around to face him. His reflection couldn’t even do justice to the brightness of his blue irises, to the emotion so heavily present there. “You are a physician. You’re a strong, capable, independent adult. You’re totally able to take care of yourself, you’ve always taken care of yourself— that’s not up for debate.”

You tilted your head.

“But you don’t have to this time,” he said slowly, his voice as soft as the look in his eyes that didn’t dare waver from yours. “You have me now and I want to take care of you. As your spouse, I sort of have to.”

You smiled when one of his hands was set against your neck, his palm cold in comparison to your burning skin. “Right. That ‘in sickness and in health’ nonsense.”

“Yeah, that,” he replied, smiling as well. He set his forehead against yours for a few moments before pressing his lips there instead and leaning back. “I love you—”

Your smile grew.

“— but you’re still burning up and I’m not letting myself fall sick, too.”

After he patted your ass twice, he took his hands from you so a chill ran up your spine. You stared after him. “If we weren’t still married for your selfish purposes, I’d divorce you at this very moment.”

“Don’t use your voice so much, you sound terrible,” he called back, placing a bowl under the replicator this time. He smiled at you when you emerged from the bathroom. “Thinking about putting some pants on?”

You looked down at your legs, your heavy head spinning as you did so. “It’s too cold without them, too hot with them.”

He hummed. “Soup— d’you have a preference?”

“Nothing noodly,” you shuddered at the mere thought of that. You crossed your aching arms over your chest as you somehow found the strength to join him in the small kitchenette. You leant your hip against the counter. “There’s still two hours left in alpha.”

“Good to know you can tell time in your ill state.”

“Jim.”

He smiled. “I’m the captain, starlight. I can do what I want.” He took the bowl of soup from under the replicator and set it down on the table beside the window. “Including force-feeding your sick ass soup and—”

“Keeping me married to you,” you said with a sigh and walked to the table, sitting down in one of the chairs and scowling at the prospect of eating. “My throat hurts too mu—”

“There could be other reasons that I asked you to stay married to me, you know.”

You raised an eyebrow at him when he pulled the other chair to be closer to you, spinning it around so he was straddling the seat and his chest was pressed against the backrest. “You never told me about other reasons.”

“I’m not saying there were other reasons, I’m just saying there could be,” he said, sneaking glances as you as he stirred the soup to cool it down a little. “If that morning I had told you I was in love with you, would you have stayed married to me?”

“No,” you answered easily, shrugging a moment later. “Would’ve dated you, though. Properly and not in this weird, convoluted way with an expiration date.”

“It would’ve been morally repugnant to inflate the truth, right? To make sure that didn’t happen?”

You nodded slowly, looking at him with narrowed eyes. “It’d be horrible. I’d feel even more like your prisoner than today’s bed rest made me feel— like the way I feel about you is some form of Stockholm syndrome.”

He nodded, trying to focus on the bowl. “Right.”

“Jim, why are you asking me all of this?”

He shrugged a shoulder, meeting your eyes with a small smile he hoped didn’t look forced. “Bones was telling me about some movie he saw. Two people get married under false pretenses— one lies to the other, the other finds out the truth, leaves the liar.”

You nodded, sniffling. “That’s sad. Could you get me a blanket, sunshine?”

He nodded back, rising from the seat and complying quickly.

Another cough tore through your body, a loud sigh leaving your lips afterwards. You took a deep breath and cleared your throat, regretting it immediately. “Did the other and the liar work it out?”

Jim draped the blanket over your shoulders and you pulled it around you tighter, relaxing. He wet his lips and sat back down in the same position as before. “Don’t know.”

“Were the pretenses totally false or exaggerated?”

He shrugged. “Don’t know.”

“Were feelings involved?” your voice was even thicker with barely swallowed soup.

“Don’t know.”

“You’re just a wealth of information, aren’t you?”

He smiled.

“As upsetting as my story is,” you began with a crack in your voice already raspy from sickness, “at least I knew the whole thing before I started talking about it.”

“Stop talking before you lose your voice entirely.”

“Tell me about your day, then. I’m not gonna sit here in silence when I’ve been doing that all day— the stupid, foul grey walls, remember?”

“Yeah, yeah.” He took a breath and smiled. “Bones isn’t speaking to Spock and I.”

You nodded with a frown, silently asking him to continue.

“Spock said you’re the better physician because of your bedside manner and that smile you use when you want to distract someone from a hypo. I obviously agreed not because I, you know, love you, but because I agree objectively.”

You tilted your head.

“We were talking about it because Bones was trying to figure out why so many people sent in requests to switch physicians.”

You tilted your head the other way.

“Not from Bones to you— every other physician to you. Krishna, Sirleaf, the short one with curly blonde hair— their patients are trying to switch to you and not Bones. He asked why they wouldn’t switch to him.”

You frowned.

“Yeah, he is a jealous guy. But we all knew that. His patients probably aren’t switching because they’re too scared of him to.”

You smiled.

“Yes, I told him that. S’like the man has no sense of humor.”

You laughed, finally saying aloud, “We’ve only been married for a few months and I can already talk to you without speaking.”

“I could do that before we got married. Perfected it during Spock’s safety seminars, remember?”

You opened your mouth to agree only to have Jim quickly stick a spoon filled with soup in it. You made a noise of annoyance.

“No talking.”

PART 20

lil tag list: (tell me if you’d like to be tagged): @feelmyroarrrr @to-pick-ourselves-up-7@star-trekkin-across-theuniverse @webhoard @dirajunara @the-space-goddess-16@whiteandblackkeys @sugarshai @goodnightwife @anyakinamidala @iwillstaywiththemforever @majisean @bbparker @heyjess-marie @kirkaholic123 @thepjofanqueen@buckybuckling@da1120 @dudahmautner @purelittleblueberry @insposcollective@our-chaoticwhispers@procrastinace @misbehaving146 @thenextdoorangel @equineaddictx @sarkastodon@20th-centu-fairy-girl @arrowswithwifi @king4thesirens @theycallmerian @bakerstgirl @jehun-prouvaire @dwarvenstache @buckypetal15 @boldlywritingtrek @klance-mcclain @curiositywillbethedeathofme

[cottoncandyforbunnies]

Atlantis; A call for tomorrow

foreword : google docs says this was 2017. Typical Atlantis story. I had a better backbone for this, i don’t know why i went with this scenario. This feels like one of those burner stories. Where you have an idea and write it down in one sitting. google docs says the last edit was 2017 too. Im touching it now to be a little cleaner.

I didn't know why i was going back home. It has been years since i've went back.. 6 years back when my father died and another 4 years when he was followed by mum. After those two, i never really had a reason to go back. I lived in the city already, everyone i knew did. The province seemed too far, too inconvenient.  The drive seemed too taxing. The destination a hovering look into the past, only now without my parents it had nothing to anchor to. My own memories only a reminder of who i spent it with. I would not have had a reason to go back. This, if anything, was not something I would have done. But i woke up one day and found myself packing a bag of clothes and necessities, starting my car, and heading to where i only know ended to where home was.

It was a dark morning, heavy clouds covered the whole sky painting everything on the road ahead and what resides beside it the shade of gray. The radio hummed tunes and news about the weather. The ride, I remember, used to be long or maybe it was my perception of time as a child that seemed long. Confined within the backseat of a car, looking at the fields and trees i felt so free to run around at turn into walls and busy people. The city to me before was a labyrinth, nothing but corners leading you only closer to its center, never away from it. And so the ride i didn’t enjoy much, as it felt like home was being taken away slowly. Now 25 years old and working on an 8am-6pm shift job, time seems to forever stay in that trudging trickle of a pace. The ride, however, didn't. The vast similar walls of skyscrapers, food stalls, bustling people, and open window stores soon began to fade and, by and by, be replaced by open fields with sparse small houses or convenience stores (all still painted gray for the weather report on the radio tells of a typhoon coming). It was shortly after that i see the seaside, so close as though I could hear its waves already. Shorter still, that I find myself in front of our house.

It looked the same as it always did. Only smaller, the memories that remind me of the place calls forth how far it took me to run around it or how my parents needed to shout in order for me to hear them outside. It seemed old too, dusty, every step i took made creaks on the wooden steps leading up to the door. The door seemed smaller too. I avoid looking at whatever is left around the house and head straight to my room. I drop my items and change to my shorts and a t-shirt. I look for a pair of slippers inside my closet. I still hear the sea. The air smelled of seawater. If i started this narrative not knowing what i hoped to come back to, now i do. I found the pair of slippers and head to the beach.

My mother loved the beach, this is why dad bought the house. Even if it was somewhat far from where he worked, he always told me that seeing my mother happy made the trip worth going home to. My earliest memories were made here. Making sand castles, burying mum in the sand, having dad dust off the sand from my hair. We used to stroll here every morning. Mum would hold my hand bringing me to the shore and pointed at objects she sees, usually seagulls and ships. Here was where i learned how to swim. I used to be afraid of the water (i was mostly fond of the sand as a child) and would not go wading into it. I would run from the waves. I would only be in the water if carried by my mother or father. The sea was frightening. The waves, as a child, i found loud as they crashed to the sand. Now more so, for the sun has sunk and the moonlight glazed over the dark waters. I didn't know how far i've walked. I didn't know what time it was either, only that the moon is up on the sky. I didn't seem to mind.

I almost drowned when i was a child, or i thought i did. My parents were only smiling when they pulled me back to the sand telling me i had nothing to fear. I told them the waves were pulling me. Mother told me the sea doesn't pull, it only pushes you back to the shore. I didn't believe her at first but after learning to swim, the waves did always push me back ashore.

I wanted to feel the waves on my feet. It seemed to be calling. The sea looked frightening still, the waves a glinting black swaying to and fro. The saltwater lapped at my feet. I stood there at awe. The moon standing still on the sky. A couple of stars beside it and below the obsidian sea. The saltwater was cold and it harshly tugged at my feet. I keep in mind what my mother said. The sea does otherwise, it seemed to pull harder. I start to head back to shore only to feel hands grasp my feet making me fall face forward. I take a lungful of air as they pull me back deeper to the waters.

At first i thought i only imagined the hands, that it was just a strong current that pulled me but i felt hands firmly grasping my ankles and all i could muster was to grasp and claw at the sand hoping to hold on to a rock or a coral i could use to hold myself to. They pull me deeper and after a few more times of trying to find something to hold on to, i let go. They continued to drag me deeper to the sea. I told myself i was going to die, that i was going to drown. That i was going to float as a body somewhere bloated and unrecognizable.

I didn't know how long i've been pulled already. I also don't know when the pain in my chest faded or how long I have not been breathing. I didn't seem to need to anymore. I open my eyes expecting the sting of saltwater but i didn't feel any. Instead, i see the moon on top of me. It looked far, very far. We must've been very deep already. I look around and see that the sea is nothing but black on all sides. I see nothing but darkness. I look to my feet and see two persons. They looked human, i couldn't see their faces. They had arms and legs. Webbed feet. Their skin looked like how a frog's would underwater. They were naked and i could see their buttocks. They were like human eels. They didn't seem to mind me, just continued on to dragging me deeper.

My only measure of time or distance as i go deeper is the moon's size. It is no bigger than a dot now. I passed by a couple school of fishes and a whale. They seemed far too for they looked small on top of me. The sea is vast, but never did it cross me how much so until iv'e been dragged for so long already. Another hour or so past by (i think?) and, finally, i see the sea bed beneath me.

The sea floor was breathtaking (if not for the fact that i am already breathless). The sand beneath was black, like soot. It covered the alleyways and streets. It was a city, a crumbled one. The houses and buildings cracked. The roads empty. The statues and (what seemed to be) lamplights eroded. Even in it's time ridden shape, the city looked prominent. A shadow of the glorious civilization it used to house. Beneath here in the sea, it looked encapsulated. Frozen in a state of almost not existing, a reminder that it used to.

But more so, was that it was illuminated by light. Every wall, every statue, every street and lamplight was covered by what looked to be bioluminiscent algae? Moss?. It covered the city with a dim light. Enough to leave darkness inside the empty windows. Enough to leave your eyes straining to see the intricate designs the houses had. But also, enough for you to see that it was a beautiful city.

They dragged me to a street leading to what i think was the plaza. A fountain was in the middle of it and it was large and circular. There was a 10-12ft statue of Neptune holding his trident in the middle of it, covered in glowing algae. It looked alive. Behind it, having 1/4 of the circumference of the plaza, were very wide steps which lead up to the castle or home of whoever ruled or owned this magnificent city. I assumed it led up to such, for the stairs length leads up to a position where a castle would sit, in front of the large plaza surrounded by the city. Only i see nothing but darkness at the end of it. They stopped dragging me and let me stand (or float for the water carried me and my feet would only briefly touch the ground to push me forward when i walk ). They held my hands and guided me towards the end of the stairs.

The city was not so empty after all. Looking around, i saw several people (or eel men, i feel it is rude to call them such) hiding behind buildings, swimming from a corner to another, or within the windows their black eyes reflecting the light from the algaes. There were some floating around 10 paces behind me following us to the top.

There was no castle. There was, however, remnants of it. Two large pillars were at my left and right and the floor here was elevated and made of polished marble. What used to be a castle is now a cliff. The castle could've fallen below it. I do not know, but it is certainly big enough for a castle to fall into it. An abyss of darkness with a depth I can no longer imagine. I felt fear for i thought they would drag me deeper still into it. I see no other land ahead, how wide and how far this abyss is is shrouded by the water's darkness.

They left me alone at the edge of the cliff. I did not know what to do. They ran (swam fast?) away from me back into the city. I was left waiting for something i do not know of. The thoughts running through my head was if i really was here, or if i was asleep, or if this is where those who die at sea would end up to. Will i turn to something like them? I looked back to the abyss and thought how many people must be below if this is indeed where they end up in.

" Those taken by the sea do not end up here. "

I hear a voice then. Only it wasn't a voice for it did not reach my ears. The ground began to shake and black sand scattered while the ground seemed to vibrate. The shaking seemed to be coming from below. I looked down and saw nothing but darkness but i knew that something was there and that it was climbing up. I hear loud thuds that shake the ground as though whatever it is is grasping the cliff to get up.

I shouldve ran. I wouldve ran but i didnt. I stood there waiting knowing that this was the reason i was dragged down here from the sea. That this was the reason i felt the urge to go home. It was coming closer, and only now hearing how loud and seeing how strong the ground shook have i realized just how far it was awhile ago. The city seemed to be moving in inches everytime the ground shaked. I looked down and still saw nothing but darkness. To my far left, a black skyscraper grabbed the ridge. I soon realized it was a very large tentacle. Another one went up and grabbed the ridge at my right. More thuds followed, seeming to grab a different part of the cliff, but i am unable to see where it is anymore. The tentacles strained then to pull up a humongous oblong body that emerged from the deep abyss infront of me. I do not know how big it was, imagine standing on the shore of the ocean and straining to see the end of each side, the size of it i can only estimate by how far i can see. It had large human-like eyes. It had eyelids and a thick brush for the lashes. I counted four from where i stood but i imagine it had more around the expanse of its body. If it had a mouth i could not see it. Its skin was covered by the algae too, and this one i knew was alive. It opened its eyes, and looked around until it saw me. The other eyes closed and only the one infront of me was open now. It glowed dimly. Its iris focused intently on me.

" Greetings, son of Apollo. "

I stood there confused. I haven't opened my mouth for fear of drowning. I only realized it now when i tried to speak that i was firmly keeping my mouth closed. But it (he? or she? does it even have a gender? does it even need one?) was wrong, and i felt like i needed to tell the truth.

" My father's name was Fred. " I said.

It, too, was confused then. I didnt know how i knew. It didn't have facial expressions. Ofcourse it didn't, it didn't have a face. But i knew that it was confused and that after the confusion it laughed (which here was another hard thing to explain for i didn't exactly hear it laughing but more of what it did if it found something humorous, which again, i just seemed to know). It looked at me happily after, seeming to mock my existence, or what little and insignificant it was compared to its kind.

" All prophets are sons and daughters of Apollo. But if it makes you feel any better you are a son of Fred too. Have you met the others? "

I said i haven't. It seemed surprised then, thinking deeply after.

" Nevermind, I always thought I'd go up last. It seemed fitting for the people of the waters to come up last. Do you know why you're here? "

I said I didn't.

" Well seeing that you’re the son of Apollo, i'm sure you're here to either get or give news. Seeing that you’re not the latter, it must be time for us to go back up then. For you to tell the people above that Atlantis is rising. It must be, the last prophet told me that if ever another comes not knowing anything, it would be to spread news of the coming of the end. Incredulous Apollo! Can't even give and receive news properly. This is why i favored Neptune. Great guy. Appreciated the sea far more than what was above. I mean who wouldn't? The land is small to house us. I don't even know why some of us tried to. "

It continued to tell more about why the sea was better. I didn't want to interrupt so i listened intently even if my mind seemed to wander how a city would rise. It seemed fitting to ask.

" How would the city rise? " i asked. It stopped it's bickering and laughed again.

" Stupid boy. This city is in ruins. There would be no need for it to rise. I told Neptune to leave it at land for a city is not fit to house people of the sea. You see, the sea is always meant to be open. Never confined within building walls or roofs. Said he favored it though, dragged a couple million of land people to their deaths bringing it down. Neptune built his kingdom here afterwards. The sea people grew to love it after awhile. It flourished for a few short centuries. Didn't last long though, the war broke up afterwards and now this has been left standing here for a hundred or more centuries. I lost count. You live as long as me and a hundred years feels like the time you spent getting here."

" It's not the city itself that would rise boy. It's the people. "

It looked up and seemed to reminisce. Remembering what it was like before. I could only imagine.

" The sun is almost up. I'm afraid i cannot keep you here any longer. I need you to tell of us. To tell of our coming. "

I looked up to see if the evening was indeed over. I couldn't see the sun, but the sky seemed less darker. It looked at me one last time, then descended back to the abyss. I had so many questions left to ask. On what he meant that the end is coming. On who he was (although there is this thought behind the back of my head that thinks i know its name, but found it unbelievable.) I tried to call it back but there was a stabbing pain on my chest suddenly. My lungs felt like they would burst. I felt the painful need to breath. I opened my mouth. I felt the water filling my lungs and my vision clouding. I struggled to keep myself from gulping down more seawater, but i couldn't. I felt it stinging my eyes. My stomach was full of it. The last image i saw was of the two eel people who dragged me down approaching me. Then a final look at the bioluminescent city and everything went black.