#but other than that: god fucking damn it families by choice still count. especially when there is legal writing about it!!!

[riverside-lavender]

if i see one more fucking thing ever about having to be blood related to be siblings/family i am going to fucking SNAP. i don’t CARE if you’re talking about fictional characters and the found family trope- guess what assholes! adoption exists! and step siblings! god who fucking cares if people call themselves family when they aren’t blood related they’re literally minding their own business. maybe stop and think before you say something about a few drawings because guess what dipshit people in similar circumstances might see that!

[gr0ggy]

ᖴOᖇ YOᑌ (​ᗰIGᑌEᒪ ᙭ ᗷᒪK!ᖇEᗩᗪEᖇ)

warnings: 18+, dbf!miguel o'Hara, age gap (reader is 25, Miguel is 44), all characters are adults exept for gabriella, dad’s best friend Miguel, sexual content, gabriella exists, no use of yn, miguel x reader, Miguel is spiderman, Miguel is a whore, black reader, descriptions of hair and skin, slow, swearing, mother father and brother’s name mentioned, not set in 2099

wc: 4.8k

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Ｃｈａｐｔｅｒ ９： Ｋｎｉｃｋｓ

art cred: _insomniac_red_ on ig, nightmare_fuell on twt,  _peachyypie_ on ig, sberrymango, Mamba

_________________________________________________

There was silence for a few minutes. You and Miguel were looking at each other, his cum seeping out of you as he held you in his arms, tangled together on your couch.

"You still want to shower?" 

"Yeah, just...give me a second." He said. 

Finally, a few minutes later, he sat up, running a hand through his thick brown hair. His eyes were pointed at the ground. You put a hand on his back, gently soothing him.

"Everything okay?" 

No, everything was not okay. He was having post-nut clarity. Especially after what your dad had said. He had a 'reputation.' In the moment, when Miguel's with you⎯kissing you, fucking you⎯he completely forgets about the idea of you being James' daughter. He was feeling guilty, and it had just now started to weigh on him. The dichotomy between the way he looked at you hardly 30 minutes ago versus the way he was looking at you now was like taking a bullet. 

"Yeah, I—I just... You're my friend's daughter, y'know?" He leaned onto your couch, throwing his head back.

"I know..." you replied. "But I'm also an adult who can make my own decisions." You scooched closer to him. 

"I can't. I shouldn't." Miguel wasn't telling you; he was telling himself. 

"What's up with you? Why can't you make up your damn mind?" You were starting to get irritated. 

"I mean, one day you're begging me to stay, and the next you're balls deep in me..." You paused. "And now you 'shouldn't'?" 

"I know, I'm—" 

"Do you want me, or not, Miguel?" 

"Of course I want you." His voice was low and gruff, his gaze flickering down to your lips before returning to your eyes.

"That's the fucking problem," Miguel huffed. "It's not right, but god, I can't stop myself from wanting you." That made your stomach coil, because you knew you couldn't stop yourself either, no matter how hard you tried.

"Look, I understand what you're feeling, but if we both want each other, I don't get why we can't keep going." You crossed your legs on the cushions, his mess still inside you. You really needed a shower.

"Because if he finds out, he'll kill me." He said. "He already thinks I'm trying to—" 

You cut him off before he could finish. 

"He doesn't know anything." You paused, realizing how much your father's words had gotten to him.

Miguel let out a deep sigh, dragging his hand over his face as if trying to wipe away the guilt that clung to him. "He doesn't need to know anything," he murmured, his voice more to himself than to you.

You shifted closer, your knee brushing against his thigh. "Exactly. What we do, what this is, has nothing to do with him. It's between us, Miguel."

He looked at you then, his dark eyes clouded with indecision. "It's not that simple," he said, his tone softer now, almost pleading. "James is... like family to me. I owe him more respect than this."

"Respect?" You scoffed, throwing your hands up. "Respect would be you treating me like the adult I am and letting me make my own choices. Or does that not count because I'm 'James's daughter'?"

"That's not what I meant, and you know it," Miguel said, his jaw tightening.

"Then explain it to me," you pressed, your frustration bubbling over. "Explain why you're so terrified of wanting me when it's so obvious you do."

His gaze locked with yours, intense and unyielding. "Because you're dangerous," he said quietly. "You make me forget myself. Forget my principles. Hell, forget my sanity."

You tilted your head, lips curving into a small, defiant smile. "Then stop fighting it. Stop pretending you don't crave this as much as I do."

Miguel's hand twitched at his side, as if caught between pulling you closer or pushing you away. Finally, he exhaled sharply and leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he buried his face in his hands.

"You make it sound so easy," he muttered, his voice muffled.

"Because it is," you said, leaning in until your lips were just inches from his ear. "It's only complicated if we make it that way."

Miguel froze for a moment before his hands slowly dropped from his face. He turned to you, and the conflict in his eyes was clear as day. "You don't get it," he said, shaking his head. "If this goes wrong, I could lose him—his trust, our friendship..."

"You won't lose me," you said firmly, cutting him off. "And honestly, Miguel, if you're that worried about what my dad thinks, then maybe you should just stop seeing me altogether."

The challenge in your voice hung heavy in the air, and you knew you were testing him. Pushing him. Forcing him to decide, once and for all, if he was willing to fight for this or if his fear would win.

Miguel stared at you, his jaw tight, his breathing uneven. Then, finally, he muttered, "You really don't make this easy, do you?"

You smiled, leaning back slightly. "Never said I would."

And just like that, the tension broke. Miguel let out a low chuckle, shaking his head as he ran a hand through his hair again. "You're gonna drive me insane, you know that?"

"Good," you replied, crossing your arms. "Maybe then you'll finally stop overthinking everything."

He looked at you for a long moment, something shifting in his eyes. It wasn't guilt or fear anymore, it was something closer to resolve. He was giving in. He couldn't help it.

"Fine," he said, his voice steady. "But if we're doing this, we have to be careful. No slipping up. No giving anyone a reason to suspect anything."

"You kinda screwed the pooch already with Benny," you said, grinning.

Miguel sighed, shaking his head as he leaned back against the couch. "That was... instinctual."

"Instinctual? Really?" you teased, standing up and stretching.

Miguel's eyes flickered over you, lingering just a moment too long before he looked away, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Go take your shower," he said.

You smirked, turning toward the bathroom. "Come with me," you called over your shoulder.

Miguel let out a soft laugh, watching you disappear down the hallway.

"No, I'll take one after you." He called out. Miguel knew that if he followed, you'd end up having sex again, and he didn't think his conscience could take that tonight. 

 For all his protests and doubts, one thing was clear, you weren't going anywhere, and neither was he.

_________________________________________________

For the past few weeks, Miguel had been asking you to babysit Gabriella more often than usual. It was odd—especially on Saturdays. Saturdays had always been sacred to him, a day he'd reserved solely for Gabriella ever since he vowed to be more present in her life. After that heart-to-heart with Peter about balancing work and family, Miguel had taken that promise seriously. So, for him to suddenly need you on a Saturday? Strange, to say the least.

He hadn't given you much of an explanation either. Something had "come up," he said, and it was urgent. He needed to head back to the lab. So, like the good friend (or... whatever) you were, you went to his place. But before you could even get a word in, he was already halfway out the door.

"Hey," you greeted, smiling as he brushed past you in a blur of movement.

"Sorry, I really gotta go!" he called out, his voice rushed, his breathing slightly ragged as though he'd been running around. He didn't even stop to make eye contact.

Before you could respond, the door clicked shut behind him.

You stood there for a moment, blinking at the door. What the hell was that about? Miguel was always composed, always in control, and seeing him so frazzled was... unusual. Your mind immediately started spinning with possibilities. Was he seeing someone? No, that couldn't be it. He said he was going to Alchemax. Maybe there was some kind of emergency? Something he couldn't tell you about?

Before you could dwell on it too much, a little voice snapped you out of your thoughts.

"Look! Daddy got me new dolls!" Gabriella chirped, emerging from her room with two dolls clutched tightly in her small hands.

You smiled, instantly softening at the sight of her. "Wow, they're so pretty! Can I see one?"

She handed you one of the dolls, her face beaming with excitement.

"Do you want to play dollhouse with me?" you asked, crouching down to her level, your curiosity about Miguel temporarily shoved aside.

"Duh!" she replied with a dramatic little eye roll, making you chuckle.

Grinning, you grabbed her hand and led her to the living room, where you both set up her dollhouse.

As you were arranging furniture and placing the dolls inside, you absentmindedly clicked on the TV for some background noise. The first channel that popped up was the news, and you were about to change it to something more kid-friendly when the reporter's words caught your attention.

"Spider-Man stops local gang threat," the news ticker read. The headline was accompanied by shaky footage of the masked vigilante swinging through the city, effortlessly taking down a group of armed thugs.

You froze for a moment, staring at the screen. Spider-Man. You'd heard of him, of course—who in the city hadn't? But you'd never really thought much about him. Your world was consumed by work, fashion, and the chaos of your own life. The masked hero was just... there, a part of the city's fabric you hadn't paid much attention to. Then again, the guy was new. He just kind of showed up out of nowhere about 4 months ago. 

"He's so cool," Gabriella said, her wide eyes glued to the TV. She hugged one of her dolls to her chest, her small face lit up with awe.

You glanced down at her, smiling. "He is, isn't he?"

She nodded enthusiastically. "I wanna meet him one day!"

You laughed softly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "Maybe you will."

But as the footage continued, something about it stuck with you. The way Spider-Man moved—quick, deliberate, with an almost predatory grace. It reminded you of...

No. That was crazy.

You shook your head, trying to dismiss the thought. But the more you watched, the harder it was to ignore the nagging feeling in the back of your mind.

"Do you think Spider-Man has kids?" Gabriella asked suddenly, her innocent question pulling you from your spiraling thoughts.

You tilted your head, considering her question. "I don't know, sweetie. Maybe. Why do you ask?"

She shrugged, fiddling with her doll's hair. "He's really busy, but he still helps people. Kind of like Daddy."

Your breath caught for a moment, and you forced a smile. "Yeah, kind of like your dad," you murmured, your mind now racing in a completely different direction.

Could it be? No, it was absurd. Miguel couldn't possibly be—

"Your turn!" Gabriella interrupted, shoving a doll into your hand.

You shook off your thoughts, focusing back on the game. But as you continued playing with Gabriella, you couldn't help but steal glances at the TV whenever Spider-Man's image flashed across the screen. The doubt, the curiosity, it was all starting to gnaw at you.

_________________________________________________

By the time Miguel returned that evening, looking just as rushed and distracted as when he'd left, you couldn't stop yourself from studying him more closely. His stance, the way he moved, even the slight cut on his knuckles that hadn't been there earlier.

"Everything okay?" you asked casually, trying to mask the suspicion brewing inside you.

"Yeah," he said, his tone clipped as he brushed past you to check on Gabriella.

You watched him, your heart pounding as the pieces began to fit together in a way you didn't want to believe.

Miguel... Spider-Man?

No. It couldn't be. Could it?

You were smart, you knew that. And you had the intuition of a voodoo psychic. If your gut was telling you something, you listened. But this... this was just too far-fetched. Spider-Man? Miguel O'Hara? It sounded like the setup for a bad rom-com. Yet, the idea wouldn't leave your mind. It lingered, whispering doubts that refused to fade, no matter how ridiculous they seemed.

You tried to brush it off, shaking your head at yourself as you followed Miguel into the kitchen. Gabriella had already darted ahead, excitedly showing her dad the tower of blocks she'd built while you babysat. He gave her his full attention, kneeling down to admire her work, his tired face softening into a genuine smile. It was a side of Miguel you were used to, gentle, caring, and utterly devoted to his daughter.

But your eyes kept straying to his hands. Strong hands, capable hands, hands you'd seen lift Gabriella effortlessly, hands that had gripped your waist with precision and strength more times than you cared to count. Now, you noticed the faint bruises on his knuckles, the subtle stiffness in his movements, the tension in his shoulders. They weren't the signs of a man who had just spent hours in a lab. No, these were the marks of someone who had been in a fight.

"Rough day?" you asked, leaning casually against the counter, testing the waters.

Miguel glanced at you, his expression unreadable. "Something like that," he said, his tone curt. He straightened up, ruffling Gabriella's hair before turning to the fridge.

"Lab work get physical these days?" you pressed, keeping your tone light, almost teasing. But your heart was racing.

He froze for a split second, just long enough for you to notice. His shoulders stiffened, and when he turned to look at you, his expression was guarded. "What are you getting at?"

You shrugged, trying to look as nonchalant as possible. "Nothing. Just curious. You've been so busy lately, and now you're coming back looking like you've been in a boxing match." You motioned toward his hand. "What happened there?"

His eyes flicked down to his knuckles, and for a moment, you thought he might actually tell you. But then he sighed, shaking his head. "It's nothing. I just... hit it on some equipment at the lab."

The lie was so obvious it made you want to laugh. Equipment? Really? But you kept your face neutral, biting back the sarcasm that was threatening to spill out.

"Right," you said slowly, your gaze narrowing slightly. "Well, next time, maybe try not to punch the equipment. Seems counterproductive."

That earned you a smirk, but it was fleeting. He grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and leaned against the counter, his posture still tense. "You're overthinking it."

"Am I?" you asked, crossing your arms as you leaned against the counter opposite him. Your eyes locked onto his, and for a moment, neither of you said anything. The tension between you was thick, and you could tell he knew you weren't buying his excuse.

Gabriella's voice broke the silence as she called out from the living room. "Daddy! Come see my drawing!"

Miguel gave you one last look, something flickering in his eyes that you couldn't quite place, guilt? Frustration? before pushing off the counter and heading toward his daughter.

You stood there, your arms still crossed, watching him go. Your gut was screaming at you now, every little detail clicking into place like pieces of a puzzle you hadn't even realized you were assembling. The bruises, the sudden late nights, how Spider-Man only started showing up when Miguel moved back from Texas.

His build.

_________________________________________________

 A Few Days Later...

Your dad had invited everyone to the penthouse to watch the Knicks game. He had always been a die-hard basketball fan, ever since his high school days, and now that the team was finally in its best shape in over a decade, his excitement was practically contagious. You were comfortable, in a groutfit with your curly dark hair in a messy puff atop your head. 

You and your mom were in the kitchen preparing a massive tray of nachos while your brother, Clay, and your dad were already glued to the TV, loudly arguing over the starting lineup.

"So..." your mom started casually, her tone teasing.

"So?" you replied, not looking up from the skillet as you focused on browning the beef, hoping to dodge whatever line of questioning she was about to throw your way.

"Are you seeing anyone?" Her voice was innocent, but you could feel her eyes on you.

"What? No," you said quickly, almost too quickly.

"Oh, you just seem..." She waved her hands in the air, wiggling her fingers dramatically. "...happier. Like someone's been keeping a smile on your face."

You let out a nervous laugh, hoping it sounded genuine. "Nah. It's probably all the time I've been spending with Gabi."

Your mom softened at that, her face lighting up. "She's such a sweet girl, isn't she?" she said, stirring the homemade nacho cheese in a silver pot.

"Very," you said, hoping to steer the conversation back to nachos and away from anything Miguel-related.

Before your mom could press further, your dad let out a groan, not at the TV, as you first thought, but at his watch.

"He's gonna be late!" he grumbled.

You cocked an eyebrow, confused. "Who's gonna be late?" you called out from the kitchen.

"Miguel! I invited him over to watch the game."

Your stomach sank, and a rush of panic swept over you. "What?" You turned to your mom, eyes wide. "Mom, did you know about this?"

"Of course I did," she said, her tone calm as she shrugged. "Why do you sound so concerned?"

"I'm not," you replied hastily. "It's just... I thought this was a family thing."

"Miguel is family!" your dad shouted from the living room as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

You stared at the cheese bubbling in the pot, trying to collect yourself. Miguel. Here. At the penthouse. Watching the game. With your dad. Great. Just great.

Things were already tense between you after you got on his case earlier that week.

A knock at the door pulled you from your spiraling thoughts. You froze for a second, the spatula still in your hand.

"Can you get that, sweetheart?" your mom asked, smiling knowingly.

Your heart raced as you wiped your hands on a dish towel and made your way to the door. When you opened it, there he was—Miguel, standing in the doorway, his towering frame clad in a Knicks jersey and dark jeans. His hair was slightly disheveled like he'd run his hand through it one too many times, and his brown eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made your breath catch.

"Hey," he said.

You swallowed hard, gripping the edge of the door. "Hey. Come in."

Miguel stepped inside, the faint scent of his cologne hitting you like a wave—clean, sharp, undeniably him. As he walked past you, his shoulder brushed yours, and you couldn't help but glance back at him.

"Miguel!" your dad's booming voice called out. "Get over here! Game's about to start!"

Miguel turned to look at you, his expression unreadable. For a split second, you thought you saw something flicker in his eyes, hesitation, maybe? But it was gone just as quickly. He nodded toward the living room and made his way over to your dad, who greeted him like a long-lost brother.

You stayed rooted to the spot, your fingers gripping the edge of the doorframe. You weren't sure if it was panic or excitement, or maybe both, but whatever it was, it had your heart pounding.

"Sweetheart, come help me with the nachos!" your mom called out, breaking your trance.

You closed the door and made your way back to the kitchen, stealing one last glance at Miguel as he settled into the couch beside your dad. He fit in so seamlessly, laughing and talking like he'd been part of the family for years.

But you knew better. You knew the tension between you wasn't going away, no matter how hard you tried to bury it. 

_________________________________________________

When the nachos were done, you and your mom carried out the platter and some plates. The warm aroma of melted cheese and seasoned beef filled the room, earning a collective "Mmm" from the couch.

"Done!" your mom said in a sing-songy voice, setting the platter down on the ottoman. "Dig in!"

"Thanks, babe," your dad said, leaning over to kiss her cheek as she took her place beside him. Clay was already reaching for a chip, crunching loudly as he focused on the game.

The only open seat left was next to Miguel. Clay was on his other side, lying down with his legs sprawled selfishly, leaving just enough room for you to squeeze in. You hesitated for a moment before sitting down, feeling the subtle brush of Miguel's broad shoulder against yours as you settled on the couch.

You would’ve sat next to your parents, they took the big couch, but they were being far too lovey-dovey with each other and it made you slightly uncomfortable. Or maybe that was just an excuse.

Miguel glanced at you, offering a quick, fleeting smile before looking away, his expression immediately composed. Your legs were barely grazing his, but you could feel the warmth radiating from him, the space between you suddenly feeling far too small.

You sat there silently, grabbing a chip and nibbling on it as the conversation flowed around the room. Your dad was loudly dissecting the Knicks' defensive strategy, and Miguel chimed in every now and then, his deep voice commanding attention. You couldn't help but notice the way his jaw flexed with every word, the way his dark eyes shined with focus as he engaged in the discussion.

It was maddening, sitting so close to him yet pretending like he didn't consume every thought in your mind. You had to remind yourself to look away constantly, worried that someone, your dad especially, might catch you staring at him like he was the most mesmerizing thing you'd ever seen.

"You want some?" Miguel's voice suddenly cut through your internal monologue, low enough that only you could hear. He held out a chip with all smile, the corners of his lips teasing as he tilted it toward you.

You blinked, momentarily caught off guard. "Uh, no thanks," you said, shaking your head and looking away quickly, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. Did he really just do that here? a big part of you was scared that your dad would actually kill Miguel if he found out. But it was as if Miguel had forgotten everything he said a few days ago.

He chuckled softly, barely audible under the sound of Clay shouting at the TV.

Minutes passed, feeling both too long and too short, before Miguel leaned over slightly, his voice brushing against your ear. "You okay?"

His tone was casual, but his words sent a shiver down your spine. You nodded, keeping your eyes forward on the game. "Yeah. Why?"

"You seem... quiet," he said, his voice dropping just a fraction, making your pulse race. "Unusual for you."

You shot him a glance, narrowing your eyes playfully. "I can be quiet sometimes, you know."

"Mm-hmm," he murmured, leaning back into the couch with an amused expression. "If you say so."

You were about to respond when your mom called out, "Sweetheart, can you grab some more napkins from the kitchen?"

Relieved for an excuse to break the tension, you stood up quickly. "Sure."

As you made your way to the kitchen, you felt Miguel's gaze follow you. You grabbed the napkins from the counter, but before you could head back, you heard the soft creak of the floorboards behind you. Turning around, you found Miguel standing in the doorway, his large frame leaning casually against the doorframe.

"Need backup?" he asked, his tone teasing.

You rolled your eyes but couldn't help the small smile that crept onto your lips. "I think I can handle napkins on my own, thanks."

He stepped closer, his expression shifting to something more serious. "You've been avoiding me," he said softly. Luckily the apartment was so big that no one could hear him over the TV.

Your heart skipped a beat. "I haven't been avoiding you, I'm sitting right next to you," you said, though the defensive tone in your voice betrayed you.

He tilted his head, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied you. "You barely looked at me all night. You don't think I notice that?"

"I was just trying to... keep things normal," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "You're here with my dad, Miguel."

"I know, and here I am," he said, stepping even closer. His proximity was overwhelming, the heat of his body making it hard to think straight. "Following you into the kitchen like an idiot."

You stared at him, your breath hitching as the air between you grew heavy. "Miguel... we can't—"

"Okay," he interrupted, his voice low and filled with frustration. "But that doesn't stop me from wanting to."

You'd noticed something was different about him, he's more insistent. The whole week, you'd been having sex almost every night. it was like he was a teenager, like his hormones were on overdrive. 

"Weren't you the one who said we had to be careful?" You whispered through your teeth.

Before you could finish, the sound of your dad shouting from the living room broke the moment. "Hey! Where are those napkins?"

Miguel sighed, running a hand through his hair as he took a step back. "Guess we'd better get back."

You nodded, grabbing the napkins and brushing past him, your heart pounding as you returned to the living room. 

_________________________________________________

The Knicks game ended with a victorious cheer from your dad, who clapped Clay on the back with a grin wide enough to light up the entire room. Your mom started collecting the empty plates and glasses, humming softly as she moved around the living room.

"Well, that was a good game," your dad said, standing up and stretching. "I think that calls for some sleep. Big day tomorrow."

Clay yawned and nodded, getting up and heading toward his room. Your mom followed shortly after, pausing to kiss your dad on the cheek before disappearing down the hallway. It wasn’t long before your dad turned to Miguel, giving him a firm pat on the shoulder.

"You staying the night? You know the guest room’s always yours," your dad offered.

Miguel smiled politely. “If it’s not too much trouble.”

“Never is,” your dad said with a chuckle before looking over at you. “You staying up?”

You hesitated, glancing at Miguel, who avoided your gaze. “Yeah, just for a little bit.”

Your dad nodded and headed off to his room, leaving the living room eerily quiet except for the faint hum of the TV still playing highlights from the game.

You sat back on the couch, pulling your legs up beneath you as Miguel remained where he was, his elbows resting on his knees. Neither of you said anything for a moment, the weight of the silence making the air feel heavier.

“You don’t have to stay up,” he finally said, his voice low and distant. “I can manage on my own.”

“I wasn’t staying up for you,” you lied, your tone sharp enough to make him glance at you. “I just… wasn’t tired.”

He smirked faintly, his lips twitching at the edges. “Right.”

You stood abruptly, heading to the kitchen under the guise of needing water. You could feel his eyes on you as you moved, your body hyper-aware of his presence even as you tried to seem casual.

When you returned with your glass, he was still sitting on the couch, but his posture had changed—leaning back now, one arm draped across the back of the cushions. His tie was loosened, the top two buttons of his shirt undone, exposing the smooth line of his collarbone.

“You’re not good at hiding things, you know,” he said suddenly, breaking the silence.

You froze mid-sip, lowering the glass. “What are you talking about?”

He shrugged, his dark eyes catching the light from the TV. “The way you look at me. The way you avoid looking at me when your dad’s around.” His voice dropped lower. “The way you left the room earlier, like you couldn’t breathe.”

Your stomach twisted, your throat dry despite the water you’d just drank. “You’re imagining things.”

“Am I?” He raised an eyebrow, his smirk deepening as he leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “You sure about that?”

You set the glass down on the coffee table, your hands trembling slightly. “Miguel, we can’t do this here."

“I know,” he said, his voice softer now, almost a whisper. “But it doesn’t change anything, does it?”

You sat down on the edge of the couch, careful to keep some distance between you, but even that felt like too much. The magnetic pull between you was undeniable, and no amount of logic or self-control could keep it at bay.

“Miguel…” You hesitated, searching for the right words. 

Before you could protest, he closed the gap between you, his large hand brushing against yours. His touch sent a jolt of electricity through your body, and you hated how much you wanted him, despite everything. He leaned into the crook of your neck, kissing it lightly. You gave in, turning your head to meet his lips. You closed your eyes, the kiss soft. 

Then, it starts to pick up, your hand finds the back of his neck, tugging him closer. 

You pulled away suddenly, pushing him away playfully. "Stop kissing me when my dad's upstairs."

"Stop kissing me back."

_________________________________________________

To be continued...

Taglist: @keidilla @deputy-videogamer 

I'm so bad at world building, but I decided to make Miguel a late bloomer when it comes to spiderman. Instead of him becoming the hero in his mid 20's I chose to make it later in his life because I can idk...

[kpop---scenarios]

Hidden Lies (1)

Pairing: Unknown x Reader

Warning: Violence, Crime, Almost Assault

Word Count: 4.9k

A/N: This is a remake of Poisonous Lies. Some parts may be familiar, and that would be why. I hope you enjoy!! Let me know who you think she'll connect more with!

This morning you woke up, listening to the sounds of birds chirping, the sun shining through your window, and feeling like it was going to be a great day. 

“YN.” Your mom yells. It was too early and you were trying to wake up peacefully. “Y/N!” She calls out again, but this time it's more of a screech. 

You groan loudly, folding your pillow over your ears, wanting to enjoy a little bit of time without her yelling at you. The sound of her shrieking voice was coming closer every second, until it was practically right in your ear. 

Your eyes are still closed as you feel your blanket being ripped off your body, your mom cursing at you. 

“Wake the fuck up!” She yells. “Don't you hear me yelling for you? I have shit to do, I cannot keep waking you up in the mornings! damn, you're going to make us both late” 

You were 22 years old and you still live with your mother. This life you had was sad, although it was your fault. This technically was your choice. You had decided to drop out of school and go home to help your mom out after your dad was sentenced to 10 years in prison for a lengthy list of crimes, although well it wasn't his fault, it also was at the same time. 

Your father had lost his job, and instead of telling your mother and them trying to figure it out, he went and got a loan from some people involved in crime that he most definitely should have not gone to. He didn't think about the fact that he would have had to pay that money back, plus interest. And when the time came for them to collect he didn't have it. So he was recruited for odd jobs until he had paid everything back, he didn't get very far though. His last job ended up being a sting operation and he was charged with trafficking drugs, intent to sell, attempted kidnapping, attempted human trafficking and a few other things. He wouldn't tell them why he did it, he didn't want things to get any worse, even though you weren't sure if they could or not. It wasn't his finest moment, he was trying to help his family even if it was the worst way possible. He was a good man and a good dad. Your father was a man who would do anything for his family, especially to protect them, and that’s exactly why he did what he did and now he was suffering the consequences of his own actions. 

“I swear to god, YN.” Your mom yells as she grabs your arm, trying to pull you out of bed. “If you don't get your ass up in the next 30 seconds, I'm going to lose my mind! Your train leaves in 45 minutes and if you dont get ready and leave in 10 minutes then you're not going to be able to see your dad.” She sighs. “It’s his birthday, remember.”

Shit. You quickly bolt up in bed, scrambling to get out of your bed. You were rushing around your room grabbing whatever looked the cleanest on your floor before heading to your bathroom, slamming the door in the process. 

Your mom sighs loudly before she leaves your room so you can rush around and get ready. You knew it was hard for her, not having your dad around, and you were sometimes difficult but you were trying. You felt guilty, especially since she wasn't able to go on the visit today, her shitty boss wouldn't let her have the time off. It had only been a year since he’d been locked up and you, mom and your brother had faced some very hard times. The three of you have been barely surviving paying the bills, mortgage, car, gas, groceries as well as trying to pay back your dad's loan in cash, rather than jobs similar to what your dad did.

Your mom was working 2 jobs, you and your brother both working full time, and all your money went towards everything needing to be paid, rarely leaving you much of anything left over but the three of you made it work, you always figured it out. You would do whatever you needed to do. 

You're running down the stairs, trying to put your hair into a semi decent bun and forfeiting any makeup. 

“You ready?” Your mom asks, car keys in her hand. 

“Yeah, just let me grab my bag.” you breathe. You run into the kitchen, snatching your purse from the counter before you head back to the front door that's left wide open. You roll your eyes heading out the door, closing it behind you before sliding into the passenger seat of the car the three of you shared. 

Your mom doesn't say a word to you on the ride to the train station. You hold your train ticket in your hand as she pulls in front of the station. “Please tell him happy birthday from me and that I love him.” she whispers as you're getting out of the car. 

You give her a half smile. “I will mom.” You say, getting out of the car and closing the door. It doesn't take you long to navigate your way through the station, you’ve been making this trip a few times a month. You tried to see him as much as you could but between work, work and work, you never had a ton of time. You picked a seat on the train, setting your bag down in the seat beside you. You just made it on time, seconds later you were on your way and you couldn't wait to see your dad. 

You stood in line, waiting to have your bag checked and to go through the x-ray machine. When that was all clear you headed to the front desk, showing your ID and filling out paperwork before you could even go into the room and wait for him. You sit down, your stomach is twisting with nerves. You weren't sure why, this was like any other visit you had been on. 

“LN, YN.” You hear. “You can head in now.” the guard finishes, pointing towards a visitation room. The door buzzes open and you see your dad immediately, sitting in the back, in the middle of the room. His fingers were locked together with his head down. It felt like it had been forever since you had last seen him. “Dad.” you sniffle and his head shoots up, a smile spreads across his face so quickly as he stands up from his chair. You walk towards him, his arms are wide open, waiting to embrace you. You crash into his chest, wrapping your arms around him as he does you, holding you tightly. You missed his hugs, and the safeness you felt from him. You couldn't remember the last time you had felt safe.

You both let go, tears brimming in your eyes as you both sit down across from each other. 

“Happy birthday dad.” you smile. He reaches out to grab your hand, whispering a small thank you while his head hangs low. “Mom also wishes you a happy birthday, and she says that she loves you.” You tell him, but you knew he already knew that. 

“I know,” he smiles. “I'm assuming that she had to work today?” he asks. 

You nod your head. 

“She tried to get the time off but you know Dave, he’s a dick and wouldn't even let her have the morning off.” you tell him.

But again, you knew he already knew that. Dave and your dad had been friends for years, but after your dad was sentenced the man acted as if he never knew him and was never friends with him. Your eyes wander around the room, as if anything would be different since the last time you were here. Your dad begins telling you a story, something funny that had happened the other day. You were listening, but you couldn't help but let your eyes wander.

You looked out into the common room, as you were scanning the room, your eyes landed on someone. A man, a very handsome dark haired, angry looking man staring directly at you. You tried to look away from him, but it's like you were locked in with him. He was so captivating you honestly didn't even want to look away, but you do, not before he smiles at you slightly, giving you a small wink. 

You’re brought out of your trance by your dad clearing his throat before continuing on with his story. You catch the end of it, laughing along with him even though you didn't really hear the rest of it. “Tell me about everything. What’s going on with you? How is your brother?” he asks. Before you can answer the lights of the prison flicker, the alarm blares as the red siren lights up the room on beat with the alarms. 

“What’s happening?” you yell over the loud sounds. You were feeling a little panicked but before your dad could say anything you both hear yelling. You looked at the commotion in the common room, which was only separated from the visiting room by one large metal door. You glanced around, seeing the other visitors watching what was happening but no one was reacting to anything. 

“I'm sure the guards will get it sorted, fights break out all the time. No need to worry.” Your dad tells you, trying to reassure you. 

You couldn't help but worry. You watched as more and more fights were beginning to break out between prisoners, prisoners and guards. You watched in horror, as the prisoners seemingly took the guards down more easily then they should have been able too. Your eyes were darting to every window that you could see and watched guard after guard collapse, inmates grabbing the guns or batons, a cluster of inmates slamming guards into the windows, shaking what is supposed to be bullet proof glass. 

Seconds later a fight in the visiting room breaks out after an inmate bashes a guard's head against the table. You're panicking now, other visitors are screaming, leaving their tables trying to escape, some pounding on the door, begging the guards to let them out.

The inmates from the common room begin trying to shoot the windows, or trying to pry open the doors into the visiting room. 

The doors were buzzed open letting the guards from the front now rush in from one side to try and calm the situation but instead they let the inmates rush through the other doors into the room where you and your dad were. He had taken you to the corner of the room, standing in front of you to protect you. You peek out from behind him, the two of you watching in horror as blood and tears are spilled, the cries and pleas from visitors are yelled out as the inmates attack anyone in their way, including those who were just trying to visit their loved ones. 

Your heart is pounding so loud, you can hear it in your ears. You feel weak, light headed. Your adrenaline hasn't kicked in yet. Your stomach is churning at all of the blood. Your father grabs your hand pulling you with him through another open door, and hopefully to safety. As soon as the two of you make it into another room, you're confronted by three large men. 

“Look.” Your dad begins. “We don't want any trouble. I'm just trying to keep my daughter safe.”

The man in front smiles, but even his smile is terrifying. 

“What a good dad you are. But don't worry.” He says. “We'll take her from here. I'll personally keep her safe.” He finishes, licking his lips. 

“No thank you.” your dad says. “We're just going to go.” You grip onto your dads orange jumpsuit. 

“Dad.” You whisper. He can hear the fear in your voice. 

He runs forward, punching the man, pushing him into the two men behind him. “Run YN! Run!” He screams as the men grab him, taking him elsewhere. You try to run for the door but you're grabbed, pulled back and pushed against the wall. The man who had been talking to your father stood inches from your face. You could see the evil in his eyes as he eyed you up. You can feel his breath on your neck as he moves closer towards you.

You look both ways, trying to find your way to escape. There's only one other door besides the one you came through and you're pretty sure it's locked. Fear jolts through your body as you try and think of anything you could possibly say or do to get yourself out of this situation but you know that there is nothing you can do, except try and fight. 

“Get away from me!” you yell, putting your hands on his chest and pushing as hard as you can. 

"Don't fucking do that.” He snaps, shoving you against the wall. He raises his hand as he gets closer to you, his finger tracing your face. You squeeze your eyes shut, tears rolling down your cheeks and you let out a scream, as loud as you could. You switched between yelling "help me." And screaming, hoping someone would come for you. 

The man slaps his hand over your mouth, angrily. "Why would you do that, don't you like me?" He asks. "It's been a long fucking time since we've been this close to a woman." He chuckles. You can feel his body pressing against you. You try to focus on anything else, but all you can hear is the sound of him breathing and the screams and cries of the ones caught in the riot. 

Just as you were about to give up, you feel a release. You can no longer feel his body pressing against you, you can hear yelling much closer. You open your eyes and see a dark haired man, and a familiar other dark haired man pulling the men away from you. Within seconds the man who wanted to attack you was down on the floor, and the two men who saved you grabbed your hands, pulling you out of the room and away from the chaos. 

Where was your dad? Was he okay? 

The three of you ran down a hallway, the alarms are still blaring, you can just barely hear police sirens from outside. 

The two men had no idea where to go, everywhere you looked there was violence, inmates with weapons and minimal guards that were alive. 

"Hey!" You hear from down the hall. You all turn around and see the man that had you pinned against the wall. Anger suddenly fuels you, wondering where your dad was. 

“What did you do to my dad!?” You scream. The man stops walking, a grin spreads across his face. “Don't worry, he's just fine. Now you two.” He says, pointing to the two men who were still holding onto you. “You don't get to take what's not yours.” He frowns. “I want her back.” He yells down the hall. The two men who had taken your father appear behind him. 

“Fuck.” One says. they turn around, pulling you in a different direction. You were turning corner after corner until one of them found an unlocked door. He opens it, quickly pulling you inside before slamming it shut. Your body is shaking, you can't help but sob. You never in a million years expected today to turn out how it has. 

Both the men quickly jump into action, grabbing whatever heavy pieces of furniture they can find to shove against the door. You watch them, still feeling just pure shock. 

"I'm sorry." You whisper. You weren't even entirely sure what you were sorry about but it felt appropriate in the moment. 

They both stop covering the door, staring at you. “Sorry for what?” One asks. 

“I.. I'm not sure. But you're in this mess now because of me.” You sigh. 

“We're in this because we didn't want to see an innocent woman get taken advantage of by some fucked up men. You didn't start it.” He says. 

“What's your name?” The other asks. 

"Y/N." You sniffle. 

“I’m Wooyoung, and this is San.” 

“Nice to meet you both. And thank you. I truly don't know what would have happened if you guys didn't save me.” 

“It's nothing.” San says, giving you a half smile. He could not stop staring at you, just like when you were in the visiting room with your dad and he had caught your eye. 

Before you could say anything back, the knob to the door started to shake. There's pounding at the door, and that's when you hear it. 

“Y/N.” your dad calls. “Y/N please let me in. They're coming.” He cries. “Please.” 

You run to the door, trying your best to move everything they had put against the door. 

“Y/N stop.” Wooyoung yells, trying to pull you away. 

“Please!” You cry. “Please help me. That's my dad, we need to let him in.” 

San and Wooyoung loom at each other. They both know this is a bad idea but knew that there would be no chance of you letting up. 

“Whatever happens?” San says. Wooyoung nods his head. 

“Whatever happens.” 

The two men help you pull the large filing cabinet, desk and other heavy things away from the door. You unlock the deadbolt, ripping the door open, the smile on your face falling immediately. 

“I'm sorry Y/N. I'm so sorry.” He cries. He's pushed inside the room by the three men from before. He trips, falling to the floor with a thud. You wanted to go to him but the man has a gun now and it's pointed directly at you. 

“You two aren't very good at hiding.” He chuckles. 

“Eric, you don't have to do this.” Wooyoung says, his hands up as he inches towards you. 

“Fuck you, Woo. You'd be the fucking same if you were locked in the hole for months at a time.” Eric snaps. “And now I have a chance for something real and you two are trying to ruin it for me.” 

“I'm telling you not to fucking do this.” San snaps. He can see Eric eyeing you up, your dad laying on the floor, one of Eric's men's feet pinning him down. 

“You think I'm gonna listen to you?” Eric laughs. “Just enjoy the show.” He says, grabbing onto Your wrists. Wooyoung and San try to lurch forward but they're stopped by the other two, flashing their knives. Eric pushes you against the wall, pulling you back towards him. He pulls you to the ground, climbing on top of you, straddling you. The gun is still shoved in your face. You say nothing, tears just stream down your face. Your eyes dart in-between San and Wooyoung as you silently plead for one of them to do something. To help you. 

Eric rips open your shirt, exposing your bra. You look away, seeing Wooyoung and San nod towards each other. They both lunge for the men, knocking them down. Your dad scrambles to his feet taking over for San, as he runs for Eric, who was too in his own world with you to hear anything else. San tackles him, causing Eric to let go of the gun, it slides across the floor. Eric scrambles beneath San as he delivers hit after hit. 

“Everybody get on the fucking ground.” You hear. Smoke bombs thrown into the room. Guards in full tactical gear flood inside, guns at the ready. San gets off of Eric, all of them men laying on the floor. “Hands on your head.” They yell. 

You do as you're told. “We have a hostage located.” They go to you first, helping you up. You're coughing loudly as they guide you out of the room, into another one to be treated. They'd finally gotten everything settled down and started getting inmates back into their cells, or medical treatment. 

“You took a fucking hostage, the warden is deciding your punishment.” A guard snaps at Wooyoung and San as they escort them past the room you're in. You push the nurse away, running out of the room. 

“Wait!” You yell. “They didn't take me hostage. They saved me from him.” You say, pointing to Eric. “He tried to.. he tried to...” You cry. “They protected me from him and I'll forever be grateful.” you finish. You walk over to the two handcuffed men, wrapping your arms around both of them, until they're both escorted off. Both of them looking over their shoulders, giving you a smile and a wink. 

Once you were checked out by the nurse and cleared to go, you were led out to the front where your mom was waiting for you. You sobbed into her shoulder as she hugged you tightly, apologizing to you profusely. She grabbed your hand, pulling you out to the car. you look back at the prison as she drives away, silently thanking Wooyoung and San for saving you. You'd have to find some way to properly thank them sometime. 

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” Your mom asks. 

“Dad and I were talking when fights broke out. Inmates were attacking guards and other inmates.” You sigh. “They opened the doors to the visitation room to let guards in but inmates rushed in.. one gut I guess had his sights set on me.” 

“Dad protected you right?” Your mom asks. 

“He tried. But there were 3 of them and one of him.. they took him away. And I was alone.” You look over at your mom, she has tears in her eyes as she listens to you. “But then two men rushed in and grabbed me, helped me escape. Took me to a room and barricaded the door.” 

“They didn't hurt you did they?” She whispers. 

“No mom, they didn't. Dad started banging on the door.. they helped me move everything and open the door but the bad guy was there with him, they pushed him in.. the guy tried to.. r..” you pause. Your mom looks horrified. “He didn't. Wooyoung and San tackled him and then the guards came in.” 

“That was extremely lucky that they were there for you.” She sighs. “I'm so sorry baby.” 

“It's not your fault mom. You didn't know that was going to happen.” You say. “No one could have predicted that would happen.” 

The rest of the way you drive home in silence. You really want to just go to bed. Luckily you didn't have to work today so you could do just that. As you walked in the house, your brother Jaehyun rushed to you, hugging you tightly. “I'm so glad you're okay.” He says, squeezes you even harder. 

“I won't be if you squeeze me anymore, you're gonna suffocate me.” You half chuckle, half panic. He lets you go, patting your back before heading back to the living room. 

“Do you want some lunch?” Your mom asks. You raise an eyebrow. You had assumed she would have had to go back to work. 

“Don't you have to go back to work?” You ask. She looks at the ground. 

“Uh, well.. Dave said if I left to go to you, I wouldn't have a job. It's not worth it if he won't let me go to my child who was in the middle of a prison riot. Don't worry, I'll find something else.” She smiles. 

Fuck Dave. You went up to your room, crawled in your bed and quickly fell asleep. The day was exhausting and you were still shook a week later. It was the week after the riot, and you had been answering everyone's questions about what happened, what it was like the guys who saved you. It was the talk of the town still but you were tired of talking about it. You were ready to forget about it now, which is why you agreed so fast when your friend Hwasa asked you to go out that night. There was a newish club that was apparently very exclusive and the two of you wanted in. You got ready in a hurry, doing your makeup and your hair the best you could. You slipped on your favorite club dress as well as shoes and headed for the front door. 

“I'm going out, bye!” You yell, slamming the door behind you. You run down the driveway heading to Hwasa's car. 

The drive to the club is long. When you finally see it, you're mesmerized. It's bigger than you imagined, the bright sign outside reads Ateez. You were so excited. The line was extremely long, and as you walked up to the bouncer he shooed you to the back of the line. It seemed like you were never going to get in. 

After about twenty minutes, you noticed a man staring at you that was walking the line, he walked past you, before backing up to look at you again. 

“L/N Y/N?” He asks, eyeing you up and down. 

“Yes?” You respond, staring at the handsome man. 

“Come with me.” He says, motioning for you and Hwasa to follow him. You and Hwasa look at each other, she shrugs her shoulders, following the man and dragging you along behind. He stops at the bouncer, pointing to you. “L/N Y/N. Add her to the list. VIP.” He finishes, bringing you both inside. What the hell did you do to get this sort of treatment? 

The two of you walk behind the man, following him really without any questions. You pass what looks like the main bar, the dance floor and head up some stairs. The rope is removed from the hook, letting the three of you into the VIP area. 

“You can stay here if you'd like. Your drinks are all on the house, whatever you'd like. If you need anything, my name is Mingi, don't hesitate to ask.” He says. 

“Um, I do have a question.” You say, slightly raising your hand. “How? Um, why? And um what?” You say. 

Mingi chuckles. “You helped my brothers out, by not adding time to their sentences. They both could have gotten a lot more time after that riot. But they didn't, because of you. So from now on, if you are in trouble or need anything, you have 8 men who will happily help you out.” He says. “Well 6 for now, until San and Woo get out.” 

“All I did was tell the truth.” You say.

“There's a lot of women out there who would have lied, knowing who those two are.” He says. 

 “Also, You're related to them?” You ask, ignoring what he said before. You were too busy trying to stop your mouth from hanging down. 

“Well.. in a sense.” He laughs. “Enjoy your night.” He finishes before leaving the room. 

“What the hell!” Hwasa shouts, heading over to your private bar. She orders multiple drinks and shots for each of you to be brought to your table. As you two sit there, listening to the music the DJ is playing, drinking and just having a good time you see five men walk into the room. They stop, staring at you. As they walk over they introduce themselves. 

“Y/N.” One smiles. “I'm Seonghwa, this is Yeosang, Yunho, Jongho and Hongjoong.” He says pointing to each extremely handsome man. 

“Nice to meet you.” You smile back, waving at them all while hiccuping in the process. 

“Thank you for what you did for Woo and San.” Seonghwa says. 

“Like I said to Mingi, I was just telling the truth. I didn't want them to get into trouble for saving me.” You explain. 

“If you need anything, and I mean anything, don't hesitate to call.” He says, sliding you a piece of paper. Written down are 8 phone numbers for you. This was honestly fucking surreal. Who knew this could happen for simply telling the truth? 

The men walk away and Hwasa stares at you in disbelief. “I almost wish it was me that day.” She laughs. “Let's go dance!” She says, trying to pull you up. 

“Let me just tidy these glasses.” You slur, stacking all the cups and shot glasses to bring back to the bartender. He laughs as you place them on the bar, and thanks you through his chuckles. 

You let Hwasa drag you down the stairs to the dance floor, immediately sliding her hands all over your body as you dance closely. The two of you always preferred to dance together, but sometimes if you were into it you'd dance with men.  This time you were too into dancing with Hwasa, you didn't want any men to disturb you. You turned around, grinding your ass into her as you looked around the club. You glanced up at the balcony and saw six men leaning on the railing, all their eyes staring directly at you. Why did you feel like your life was going to get a lot more interesting? 

[justliketherifle]

Things hadn't been the same since Billy died.

Neil had skipped town, leaving you with Susan and Max. Not that you minded too much, they were a far better choice than your violent father any day. Sure, you'd been forced to move to the trailer park, but even that wasn't so bad. You still had your own room, albeit a smaller one. And it led you to meeting Eddie and joining Hellfire.

You and Max had really bonded over the loss of Billy. You both talked about what an asshole he was, but with slight smiles. After all, he was your asshole, your jerk twin brother. And something inside you ached without him.

Without Neil around, the trailer felt more like home than any place you'd ever lived. Susan and Max were lighter, more free with their words and actions, and so were you. You started to wear makeup, something Neil had forbidden, and dress more how you actually wanted to. Jeans with holes at the knees, band tees, and a leather jacket. Oh, and you'd chopped your hair to chin length the day he left. Did it yourself in the bathroom. And it worked well on you.

You had gotten a job at Family Video with Steve and Robin to help with bills, and the three of you had grown really close through everything. In fact, you had a weekly movie night and often stayed over at each other's houses. Truth be told though…you had it bad for Steve. You'd seen him beaten and bloody and you'd seen him be a hero. You'd been there for him, and he had done the same for you. Not that you didn't have that with Robin, but…it was just…different with Steve. Something else was in the air when you two got together. At least for you. You had no idea how he felt, and you were far too scared to screw up your friendship and broach the subject with him.

You missed Hopper as well of course, had cried for him more times than you could count. And you missed El and the Wheelers something fierce. But the gate was closed and you all felt somewhat safe and normal.

So all in all, things should have been relatively okay.

Except.

Except for the nightmares. Except for that damn ache in your chest.

You'd dream of the mall, of the Mind Flayer killing him right in front of you, every. single. night.

Susan had forced you to see a psychiatrist against your wishes; it was pointless, after all. Not like you could tell her what had really happened. But you went and made stuff up and she'd prescribed you Temazepam to help you sleep.

And it worked. Most nights, anyway. But one night, you just couldn't sleep. You'd already taken two pills and nothing. Finally, with a sigh, you grabbed the pill bottle off your night stand and looked in at its contents.

You thought about Billy, about how much you fucking missed him. Especially today: it was your birthday. Your first without him there to share it with you. You'd continue to get older, and Billy never would.

Hot tears sprang to your eyes. God, why was it him? Why didn't it take you too?

As you sat on the edge of your bed looking down at those pills, you felt something inside you shatter. You couldn't breathe, couldn't do anything but picture him dead on the mall floor.

And so, without letting yourself second guess it, you dumped the pills into your mouth and washed them down with the bottle of vodka you'd stolen from the local liquor store. You'd been drinking off it all night, and you were fairly drunk at that point.

You laid back on your bed and let your tears flow freely. You'd see Billy soon.

Then, you thought of Steve. Beautiful Steve, your best friend, and the man you were now realizing you were definitely in love with. And you decided, in your drunken haze, that he definitely deserved to know.

You reached over and grabbed the phone off its hook, dialing his number slowly. You hoped his answering machine would pick up, but if not, you'd tell him anyway. It was your last chance.

"Hello?" came Steve's sleepy voice.

"Steve," you slurred.

"Y/N? It's like one in the morning. Are you drunk?"

You giggled a bit, before turning serious. "Listen, Steve, you gotta know something, okay? You gotta hear this, it's important."

"Okay," he replied, amusement in his tone. "What do I need to know that couldn't wait until daylight?"

You took a deep breath, feeling woozy. "Steve. Stevie. You're mine, you know? And…and I'm yours."

"Okay?" Steve said, unsure. "Look, I gotta get some more sleep, so if you could get through this before the sun rises."

You groaned in frustration. "'m trying but it's hard. I know I don't have much time and wanted to say it right."

"Okay okay, just tell me."

You took in another deep breath as the room started spinning. "I love you. Not as a friend. More. So much more. And I'm sorry I didn't tell you until it was too late."

There was silence for a moment, then:

"You…you love me…?" Steve asked breathlessly.

"Yes. Gotta go now, Stevie." Your eyes were getting heavy with sleep.

"Wait, hold on, can we talk about this, please?" he begged.

"Sorry, Stevie. Billy's waiting for me," you said into the receiver.

With that, you fell unconscious, Steve's voice in your ear asking you frantically what that meant.

You woke up to vomit coming out of your mouth and nose and landing in the bathtub. Your arms hung into the tub and someone was behind you holding you in place.

Once you finished, you collapsed back into the person, panting. The person turned you to face them, and it was Steve. Your perfect Steve. His eyes were red, tears flowed down his cheeks and he was almost sobbing.

You began to cry too, at what you had tried to do, at the fact that you had failed and you were still alone, still without your other half.

"What were you thinking, (Y/N)?" Steve demanded through his tears.

"I'm sorry," you choked out. "I just hate being without him. It feels wrong to be alive. I have this ache in my chest and it never goes away, Steve. I live with it every day and I'm just so tired."

Steve said nothing but crushed you to him, squeezing you tightly as sobs began to rip out of you. He rocked you back and forth as you both cried. It was almost cathartic.

When your cries finally subsided, Steve picked you up and carried you to your room, where he sat you on your bed so you were leaning against the headboard. He sat on the edge of your bed, turning to face you. You looked down at your hands, now feeling equal parts sober, exhausted, and nervous.

"Are you mad?" you asked softly.

Steve sighed and reached out to take your hand. "No, I'm not mad, (Y/N), I'm fucking terrified. You almost just died right in front of me, all right? I…I almost lost you. Fuck, I almost lost you." You watched him lift your hand to his cheek, like he needed to feel you to know you were still there, still alive. You met his eyes and saw the fear there, and god, you felt so guilty to have caused that.

"I know, Stevie, I'm so fucking sorry. I'm so sorry," you cried, feeling the tears come back.

"Hey," Steve whispered, cupping your face in his hands. "It's okay, you're okay. Thank god you called me."

"I didn't expect you to come save me like a big damn hero," you said with a laugh, sniffling a bit.

He laughed too, but then his face turned serious. You put your hands over his and gave him a questioning look.

"Don't do that again, okay? Please?" he pleaded.

You nodded, now sure that you wouldn't. "I won't, I promise."

He let out a relieved breath. "Good. Good. I'm gonna go clean your bathtub real quick, okay? Just wait here."

Steve ran to the bathroom and you heard the shower turn on. After a few moments, he returned to your room and rejoined you on the bed.

Steve sighed and took your hand in his once more, rubbing light circles on the back of your hand with his thumb.

"Did you mean it?" he asked quietly.

You looked down at your hands. "Yeah. Yeah, I did. I do. I…I love you, Steve."

He huffed a laugh and you looked up at him, confused.

"Sorry, I just…I've been wanting to tell you the same thing since the mall. I know it sounds strange, but after…when I was holding you and you were crying on my shoulder? That was when I realized that I love you."

You half laughed, half sobbed at that.

Steve took your hand in both of his. "In that moment, I would've done anything to take that pain away. It killed me to know what you were going through and that there was nothing I could do to really help."

"But you did help," you choked out. "You've helped so much these past few months, Steve. Spending time with you and Robin probably saved my life. You especially."

Steve smiled at that. "Yeah?"

You smiled back through your tears. "Yeah. And tonight you literally saved my life. And I'll never forget that." You frowned as a thought hit you. "Oh, Steve? Please don't tell the others about this. I promise that I will. I think it's important I tell them." You sniffled, then laughed. "You know, we should start an Upside Down support group."

Steve laughed too. "We really should. God knows we've all got our share of trauma from living in this town. Now, I think I should grab you some water and you should lay down and get some rest."

You signed. "Yeah, ummm…that's probably not gonna happen."

He quirked his head at you adorably. "Why's that?"

"Well, the reason I took those pills in the first place was because I couldn't sleep, or when I did, I…" You couldn't say it out loud.

"Nightmares?"

You let out a breath. "Every. Damn. Night. Just variations on that night at Starcourt. All ending horribly."

Steve nodded. "Yeah, I get 'em sometimes too. They're a bitch."

"Yeah. Um…Steve?"

"Yeah, sweetheart?"

You blushed at that. "Would you…stay with me? I think it might help. And I just really don't want you to go."

Steve smiled, that gorgeous grin of his lighting up his entire face. "Of course, baby. I'm not going anywhere."

You laid down in your bed fully, moving over a bit to give him room. Steve held up a finger, indicating he'd be right back, and left the room. You heard running water from the kitchen, and soon he was back with a glass of water. You drank the entire thing and he set the cup on your nightstand before taking off his shoes and climbing into bed with you.

You faced one another and took in each other's features. Your eyes flitted down to Steve's lips, and then he did the same, once, twice, then a third time. Finally, you got tired of waiting.

"Stevie?" you asked.

"Yeah?"

"Can I ask for one more favor?"

"Of course, anything."

"Will you please kiss me already?"

Steve wasted no time in moving to press his lips against yours. You gasped into the kiss, fireworks exploring in your head. You had never been in love before now, had never kissed someone you were in love with, and it was absolutely incredible.

You placed your hand on his cheek, crying once more. For Billy, yes, but also out of joy and love. No, you'd never try to hurt yourself again. There were too many important things…important people you'd leave behind.

You pulled away, gasping for air. Steve was much the same. You both grinned goofily at each other, totally blissed out from that mind-blowing first kiss.

You scooted toward him and you both quickly got comfortable. Your head was on Steve's chest, hand entwined with his on his stomach.

"Love you, Stevie," you mumbled sleepily.

"Love you too, baby. Happy birthday."

[pinkpruneclodwolf]

Wired Take—Chapter 2 is About Nature v Nurture.

Why Savanclaw chapter is about siblings relationships

Before I get into why Chapter 2 is about Nature v Nurture we're gonna unpack the Savanaclaw chapter and why it was actually the hardest chapter for me to grasp because of

1: How short it was—

21 episodes compared to Heartslabyul's 28, Octavinelle's 39, Scarabia's 41, Pomefiore's 69, and Ignihyde's 89.

Listen, I'll give Savanaclaw the benefit of the doubt when it comes to Pome and Igni bc they're later chapters meaning Yana had time to put more than enough effort, but Heartslabyul having 7 more episodes (plus the strong ass start from the Prologue) and Octavinelle having 11 more episodes feels weird asl, especially when you consider how iconic the Lion King is. Becoming the highest grossing movie in 1994 (it beat out Jurassic Park) not to mention the Lion King Broadway that's been running for 24 years, rakes in 1.6 mil a week, and has a gross value of 9 billion and counting.

And you're telling me it's the shortest out of the chapters??? Be fucking fr.

2. How the characters were characterized in a way that you'd have to read the next chapter (or personal stories) to grasp the fundamentals of those characters.

Cramming three hyenas into one boy was a choice and some change but I'm willing to say that Ruggie is a solid ass character, could there have been more? Absolutely. But Ruggie is holding his own pretty well.

Leona actually gets more characteration through Vignettes, Personal Stories, Events, and other chapters and I appreciate it because he was done dirty.

In his own chapter.

But Jack, the one non-Disney character and based off the wolf-dog in White Fang, written by Jack London. The story is about how the wolf dog is rescued from his abusive owner and slowly becomes domesticated through patience and compassion to a point where he protects the father of the man who adopted him.

And 3: How Leona's motivations were ruined because of how much his story ties into Scar's.

Don't get me wrong, there's nothing wrong with Leona after Savanaclaw (bc he had his magical mental breakdown and came to terms with the fact he'll never be king... not) and the sure as hell isn't anything wrong with a "what if" version of Scar who didn't kill his brother and attends school where he can pretend he's king for little whilst that it looks like he's got his shit together and isn't fighting the constant inferiority complex that gets fueled whenever he's sees Malleus exist a likkle too hard...

However, in the face of Riddle (based off the Queen of Hearts) and how strictness ties into his character, how—despite relying on rules—he's actually pretty mischievous, how his mother essentially played God with his life from his very conception until he got to Night Raven and sharing motivations with the protagonist.

In the face of Jamil whose life was decided to be less than Kalim's because of the longstanding history of his family being subservient to the Al-Asim's to a point where his family told him not to overshadow Kalim, but even so he still yearns to be greater than who he is and be able to show the world that his life has as much of the same worth as Kalim's.

In the face of Azul (based off of Ursula) who had been ostracized to a point where he refuses to return to his original form, still keeps every secret, problem, and trait of his childhood bullies who wants to burn away the last vestiges of who he was before NRC yet is still ruled by his old world...

Leona falls short. His motivations are rushed, his backstory a watered down version of Scar's, and his OB scene barely memorable besides the cool ass fit.

Chapter 2 upsets me because Lion King came from Disney's Renaissance era, was the highest grossing moving of 1994 meaning people lined up to watch Mufasa die in a theater to a point that an entire generation is defined by remembering that one scene in that one movie.

Vines and memes centered around the scene and people shaking and crying and throwing up more than Simba did in the damn movie and you mean to tell me Leona rode on those coattails and still flopped????

The Devil is a damn liar.

In an effort to make Chapter 2 less eldritch than it is in terms of incomprehensiblility, I've decided to come up with a better explanation (and fix it) for Savanaclaw.

Only the real will understand.

1. How Short it Is.

I mention how Savanaclaw is the shortest chapter in the game, which is insane considering the game has no sense of time-frame—I would say the Overblots span over a month, but Octavinelle proves this wrong when Jade says "you were the one spying with Riddle the other day" in the JP translation which means Leona's Overblot was the "fastest".

But that makes no sense considering it takes, 3 days~ (making a timeline up) for Jade and Floyd to propose Yuu confront Azul, and when Grim and Yuu take Jack's proposal the Savanaclaw students literally say "Aren't those the guys that trespassed on our dorm the other day?!"

Savanaclaw takes place in October and Octavinelle takes place in November, if I recall most midterms start after 5 1/2 weeks into school, especially in colleges, meaning from the last two weeks in November should be prime time... And this is for a college, not a Highschool, and while NRC is based off of UK schooling they don't refer to the Mid terms as Finals because BrE doesn't have midterms, they have end of the year examinations and this is considered a recent development. [Though I cannot speak from the Brits I just read through a couple articles I will be linking below]

So, yes, I know that Octavinelle starts with Yuu and Grim waking up and then taking the exams but like,,,,, I refuse to believe charas are saying the other day and referring to a week or so ago.

Time is a social construct but it's a prevalent one for a damn reason.

Anyways, why is Leona's Overblot the fastest? Riddle starts accumulating Blot early on because it's a tutorial Chapter to show what you'll be dealing with, Azul doesn't start accumulating Blot around the time Yuu offers Ramshackle as collateral. (Or am I misremembering???) Which becomes a track record as Jamil, Vil, and Idia start accumulating Blot nearing the middle of the chapter and everything starts derailing into Overblot and it wasn't even Idia accumulating Blot, it was Ortho.

Leona does accumulate Blot but it's after the dorm leader meeting which is directly after Ruggie is shown to be the culprit which still threw me off.

The rant about not being told he couldn't be number one should've been reserved for a one on one conversation or after said convo.

I physically cringed when he started off his rant with that bc it sounds like he's in cahoots with whomever is causing students to be injured, he's lucky no one in that room took a moment to process what he said—ntm Azul reacted with interest when he proposed an alternative to defeating Diasomnia.

Leona got as far as he did not bc he was displaying smarts or cunning but bc the ppl around him were dumbed down/not paying attention to his words. Which is crazy since Leona is propped up to be NRC's top student in academics and he's sitting here in front of someone who discovered and honed their Unique Magic at 10. Merman who got bullied to the point of obsessively studying magic and discovering it naturally. A world class actor and model who knows multiple languages and multiple sports, and genius enough to create a poison strong enough to take the Dorm Leader spot of Pomefiore. Kalim who has (possibly) been advised to be very careful of his surroundings due to multiple assassination attempts, a genius who made a robot in his brother's image. Crowley who runs the show essentially throwing his motivations on the table.

Like,,,, get a fucking grip, save the villain monologing for after you're sure you've won.

Thing is, this goes on for the entirety of the chapter—The fakeout of Ruggie seeming like he's the one accumulating Blot since he's doing all the leg work and Leona throwing out his plans for anyone to hear, the whole point of Jack confronting Leona stems from the first year overhearing his conversation lmaooo.

You can throw your hat in the ring and say that Leona doesn't care. That he genuinely believes that he or Ruggie will get caught and stopped feeding into his complex of "if there's no immediate reward what's the point?"

But why the hell would start by injuring students for funzies if he thinks at a moments notice he'll get caught? Why go on a monologue ab how the Great Seven secured their positions through wisdom and cunning and have the table of Dorm Leader's (besides Idia) rallying behind him if he thinks Crowley will just pull him aside and call him out??

The math ain't mathing.

But it will.

Some events in the chapter need to be reordered.

Jack should approach Leona and tell him about the students dropping like flies—I genuinely believe that Leona should've allowed some students in Savanaclaw to get injured, it looks suspicious if the only dorm not suffering from losses is the one that wants to win the most.

Leona should dismiss his concerns or imply that he'll start investigating the matter and when Jack leaves, cackle evilly with Ruggie to set up the chapter.

You could bump up the Meeting scene but I'd keep it where it is, why? Because Azul can say, "due to recent injuries, if you want to swap students out of your previous roster it will be an additional fee; submitting your Magift forms late will also cost you."

This would imply that the dorm leaders already put in their Registration Forms and the process of changing students can be difficult because the VIP guests, Newsbroadcasters, and scouts will have to be informed of the decision.

Again, that villain monologue Leona through it was insane work, like he was the only one praying on his downfall. So I propose a different monologue:

"Denying students the chance to be number one?"

"You expect Savanaclaw, founded off the Tenacity of the King of Beasts, to lay on our backs and let that monster stomp all over us and our dreams?"

"Magift isn't just about physical prowess. Technique, magic; that lizard only relies on two of those components."

This is Leona's complex talking bc Sebek says that Malleus summons mountains and thunder during Magift because it's all based on spectacle. Think of it is the U.A. Sports Festival in MHA, it's all about spectacle and showing off in an effort to get noticed, which emphasizes another point:

The whole reason Leona is even doing this is bc a part of him believes he owes his dorm members a win. He assumed the Dorm Head's position and since then has lost to Malleus and thus cutting down the opportunities his dorm students can get, thus saying he will never be a true king.

Again, I said that if the scenes were played out right it could've been subversive. We still don't know who would OB between Ruggie and Leona (exactly like Jamil and Kalim) because after the meeting two Blot splatters appear and Ruggie attacks two students.

A lot of people have even said Ruggie should've been the one to Overblot bc Cjapter 2 trivialize Leona's struggles with never being King, relegated to a spare heir who will never see the seat because Cheka is sitting there.

His magic is said to be the manifestations of his people's fears: drought, famine. It wasn't a Unique Magic he discovered like the rest of the OB group, he was born with it.

Imagine your first display of magic being met with disgust and horror while your brother's UM (discovered later in life) is met with praise.

Play it up!!!

Leona has a good grip on his magic but with Overblot let him melt some stairs! Let him dry out the air! Let him have a conversation with his Brother (over the phone/face to face) and turn a door handle to sand/leave a trail of sand in his wake!!!!!

Have students complain about the growing frequency of sandstorms at Savanaclaw, how dry the air feels, have Jack's cacti nearly die!!!!

Stand up Savanaclaw damn!!!!!!

2. How the characters were characterized in a way that you'd have to read the next chapter (or personal stories) to grasp the fundamentals of those characters.

JACK, FIGHT BACK

RUGGIE, STAND UP

LEONA, GET UPPPP!!!!

The Chapters are there to help sell a character, to make you roll for them and get you invested in their arcs and growth throughout the story.

So why in the hell....?

Lemme ask yall this: Who are your fave characters in twst? What attracted yall to them? What was your fave chapter? What characters stand out to you?

I've scoured the twst tags and I've noticed that Savanaclaw ranks lowest amongst the people. Or they are never properly characterized in headcanons/yumeships.

Ofc we can chalk it up to the rampant racism that is within twst—I've seen yall hcs of Savanaclaw being smelly and full of jocks as if these students don't have heightened senses and would probably be the cleanest dorm in Night Raven, beating out Pomefiore.

Or the fact that yall characterize Savanaclaw students as only violent despite the fact they are a martial artist dorm (which requires discipline) as well as a dorm that is the major contributor in Magical Shift leagues (which is like football, you need good grades to even touch HS football not to mention College Football).

But I digress on that—Savanaclaw isn't popular bcccc the chapter was asinine.

Like I said, you'd need to read the charas Personal Stories/Vignettes to get a grasp on them whilst other chapters and characters (besides Pomefiore, Rook, Vil, and Epel are hard as hell to grasp, I tried to do a case study on Rook and was sniped twice)

Personal stories are meant to expand on a character and their themes, yet that's all Leona, Ruggie, and Jack can rely on bc they were written with failure on the brain and defeat in the heart.

The way Savanaclaw should've gone was characterizing Leona.

Someone who has a dichotomous relationship with his family, friends, kingdom, and public perception, the weight of being the black sheep, the scapegoat, ostracized for a power he was born with to a point that he gives up. He's stuck in a cycle of hubris, self hatred, procrastination. He wants to be praised bc he was denied it for so long, stuck in the shadow of the golden child that is his brother, his chance to be accepted swept away by his nephew.

When he graduates he will have nothing to return to but upholding an image.

He is stuck.

That right there is grounds for a reasonable Overblot. Bc I'm sure anyone has felt those feelings before—played those roles before.

And somehow Savanaclaw fails to show that and Ruggie steals the spotlight.

Thing is, I'm not even against Ruggie Overblotting bc the hyenas do eat Scar at the end of the movie.

However.

As much as I fw Ruggie Obing, I'm trying to fix Savanaclaw lmaooooo.

Anyways, Ruggie also is stuck.

Born in poverty with possibly no prior education, he has no mother his father abandoning him and the only person raising his us his grandmother, it's been implied that Ruggie's been picking up odd jobs prior to Night Raven—meaning he's lied about his age and the rich simply did not care. Children in poverty grow up with adult eyes, wisened up to the world in an effort to survive before the hole that is poverty consumes them. Adults hold child eyes because "hope" is the only thing keeping them going, Ruggie knows that one day he will look to the world with "hope" so having Night Raven choose him out of all kids is his golden ticket, surrounding himself with rich kids, mooching as much as possible until he can live a comfortable life...

That's also grounds for Overblot, especially when you consider Leona throwing everything back at his face and nearly strangling him to death.

His golden ticket turning to dust before his eyes.

No wonder yall fw Ruggie Overblotting, that boy was putting in the legwork!!!!

Jack is objectively the most normal mf in the TWST cast, I see yall try so hard to project Trey as normal and it's laughable bc the dude who literally asked to be ignored is the sneakiest mf in the cast, beat out by Rook and Jade.

Like Jack is easily overshadowed in the chapter and after. Only working when hes bouncing off of another character which is crazy bc he's based off of a feral wolf that slowly gets domesticated through compassion and kindness (a reason why he easily warms up to Yuu) him being all about just actually could work in his (and Yuu's) favor when you consider the fact that Yuu is the most proactive (read: forced) in stopping fighting Overblots.

Yet his character is never truly explored, even in his vignettes. Which is crazy work bc, like I said in a previous post, when Jack assumes he's in the right when that Justice comes into play he will shake you down.

He does it with Leona, Ruggie, Azul. FLOYD AND JADE LEECH BOTH??? Like that boy is a force to be reckoned with and somehow,,,,,,

Like I'm grateful Portfest is giving Jack crumbs but this should've been implemented, especially if you're going to sell what is essentially an Original Character in a game that focuses on Disney villains...

Which brings me to Crowley, who is also an Original Character based off of a real person—Aleister Crowley. A real life occultist who was dubbed "the wickedest man in the world." And that mf has been the basis for so many theories, esp popular ones like him being behind Mickey's entrapment in the mirror (it's going platinum in my delusions lmaoo).

So,,, why the hell is Jack?? Getting the short end of the stick??? See where Yana messed up was not expanding on Jack, Ruggie, and Leona.

The entirety of October is dedicated to Magical Shift they have enough time to plan, revamp, and execute Leona's plan. I honestly wanted Leona to come down on Malleus like he did to Azul, and THEN recreate the scene where Mufasa dies.

Thus leading to my next point!:

And 3: How Leona's motivations were ruined because of how much his story ties into Scar's.

Gonna give a strict rundown on what happens in Savanaclaw before we begin unpacking what should be changed and why:

As we know Savanaclaw starts of with Ruggie snatching the cutlet using his UM who then gives it to Leona, and they talk about his status as second Prince. Skip to the Dorm Leader meeting—which is where things pick up for Leona before dropping off the side of a cliff— he explicitly is against Malleus being inducted into the Hall of Fame, rallying the other dorm leaders (Excluding Malleus, obvi) and Crowley concedes.

Ruggie then breaks two other students' bones before prancing off, leaving Yuu to be tasked with investigating the strange circumstances behind the injuries. In that time Trey gets hurt and so Adeuce, Cater, and Riddle investigate those injured and on the possible hitlist to be injured.

In that time Yuu is taught Magical Shift, a game that while on the surface seems focused on brute strength and force ends up being a strategic game that has flashy spells to Wow the crowd.

Jack later ends up listening in on Leona and Ruggie discussing further plans. Fast forward and Yuu and the Investigation troop find out crucial evidence that points to Savanaclaw, but with no solid information they can't fly off the handle.

Thus leading to the final showdown: Ruggie procures a performance enhancing potion and recreates the march that killed Mufasa but—oh? It's all Cater clones? Heartslabyul warned Diasomnia and the other dorms in advance? Leona gives up and Ruggie tries to knock sense into him? The Investigation troop and Lilia give him a stern talking to?

He Overblots.

This is a pretty frustrated retelling of the chapter but I want to reiterate that Savanaclaw is the SHORTEST CHAPTER IN THE GAME and Leona only has a handful of scenes in the entire chapter, if I said he had 3 major scenes (EXCLUDING HIS OVERBLOT) you would assume I'm lying but 16-20 is a whole four episodes where he just ISNT THERE but you wanna know who is?

Ruggie and Jack.

I'm going to maul a small family and eat a couch.

It's not like Leona needs to show up to tell that his actions are harming everyone, other chapters have full on episodes where the Overblotee isn't there, however, it's that for everytime Leona isn't there Ruggie is—a sponge that soaks up and steals Leona's thunder and leads many to believe Ruggie is the one who should Overblot instead.

And the thing is, I want to say I don't care about how long Savanaclaw is because impactful storytelling doesn't need to bee stretched across say,,,,, 89 episodes but I can't lie, I believe many more people would rock with the Savanaclaw trio the way the rock with Octatrio if they had just a couple more episodes, a better vision and maybe coherent plot too.

But here are some things I'd change.

Emphasis on VIP guests, many royal families (especially Kingscholars) and scouts/recruiters. If Magift is supposed to be anything like College football it'd make sense that there would be an emphasis on recruiting and scouts as well as scholarship and internship opportunities. Savanaclaw is basically an all you can eat internship Hotspot, having Diasomnia usurp that means that internship/scholarship opportunities are becoming unevenly distributed

Sebek said that Malleus can summon mountains and thunder during Magift, meaning that Magift is about spectacle, which again harkens back to recruiters, internships, and scholarships. Magift is a big sport in NRC bc it showcases the overflowing potential and thus puts NRC in a position for more funding.

I mentioned VIP guests and royalty. Maybe Leona's brother is one of those guests? Maybe Cheka shows up? Maybe Falena attempts to reconnect with his brother through a sport he enjoys after years of being apart and nearly no contact? Maybe Cheka sneaks off more into NRC and is indentured into the Investigation Squad? Maybe Leona feels more pressure because not only is Malleus in line to be put on the throne but his Dorm might get washed in front of Falena and thus exacerbating his fears of being less than his brother? Maybe, maybe, maybe.

MORE 👏🏾 SCREENTIME👏🏾 FOR 👏🏾LEONA👏🏾 Have Leona have a dichotomous relationship with Ruggie, keep the audience on the feet and guessing who the hell will OB, I don't know ab twst en players but b4 the translations we had a TimeLoop theory and Leona Overblotting instead of (who we believed should've OBed) was essentially the golden puzzle piece when it came to those theories, entire theses and theories were built off the back of Leona OB being an error/change in the Timeline. Having the story alternate between those two? Twst jp theories wouldve carried over frr.

@/najmaviper already said this, but have Leona use his UM as a way to vent!!! Show that his grip is slowly loosening in the face of all these problems arising? Show that even with him learning to leash a UM that the pressure has his grip slipping!! That the divide between managing the innate magic he's been born with is growing thinner and its harder to grasp something that melds into a foundational problem!!!

Ruggie! Like I said society would advance just off principle of the Savanaclaw fake out! Make it look like Ruggie's gonna Overblot while also balancing the many reasons why Leona should OB as well!! Bc the hyenas ate Scar it would make sense thematically that Ruggie should also hold some burden of Overblot as Chap 6 said that it can have an area of effect and there have been instances of ppl OBing by proxy!!

Savanaclaw needs to be longer.

Now that we've gotten all of that out of the way. Here's my analysis for Savanaclaw.

Nature v Nurture—The Eternal Struggle of the Wild.

As we all know, the wilderness is a dangerous place to be in. To be vulnerable in the elements could very well cost you your life.

That is exactly why Jack London's White Fang, while not known, is still a profound body of work bc of the topic it tackles—The struggle of man v nature.

But we aren't talking about just the struggle of man v nature, we are talking about the struggle of man and nature, where animal and human begin and end and mix and blend.

It is through that that I present to you my analysis on Savanaclaw as a whole.

Leona, as we all know, had been ostracized and stuck in the shadow of his brother since the day he was born—this further exacerbated by the fact that not only are they born a decade a part (ten years apart) but their roles had already been decided.

Falena was destined to be king, and as such was whisked away into learning how to lead his country—to continue the reign of Kingscholars and make sure that balance and harmony would prosper in Afterglow Savannah.

Because of that, I believe that they never truly had a chance to bond—one always running away and the other always standing still; aimless.

It didn't help that Leona was a progidy, that his Unique Magic that he'd been born with essentially being a culmination of his people's fears— "I am your hunger, I am your thirst."

We know that when Scar had assumed the throne he'd allowed a disproportionate amount of hunting that led to food running scarce—I'd assume that Twst!Scar had such a devastating impact on Afterglow Savannah that droughts would forever be associated with him—I also believe that there is still an area of land in Afterglow Savannah that has yet to recover.

So, to be associated with someone who'd killed his brother for the throne, to be associated with droughts and famines, and to have a personality that wasn't favorable you could see now that Leona was doomed from the start.

Because it didn't just start with him being denied kingship—he was denied something essential.

Compassion. Attention. And love.

We can see that Leona doesn't yearn to be king, but rather he yearns for what he should've gotten as a child—recognition. Instead of his efforts being deemed less than his brother's by right of him being king and him being the spare what Leona really yearned for was to have that same attention on him.

Just for a moment.

And if I said that Leona's scar could've been borne from that want—that need to be doted on, to finally be free from his brother's shadow and not be compared to him would I be wrong?

Because at the core of it, what Leona was denied subsequently is what he begins to abhor. We see this when, despite many students of Night Raven coming to him when they face a problem, he actively avoids them. Despite his grades literally being a selling point at NRC you see him not trying at all to come to class. Despite him overseeing on of the most competitive sports in Twisted Wonderland, you see that he doesn't put in that same effort divided to Magift as he does his PE class (as seen in his PE vignette)

Because why strive for something that you know will not be given to you? Why put in effort that will be overlooked? Why do anything at all if there is nothing you can do?

But I wouldn't go as far as to say that Leona is entirely apathetic—moreso inert in his position in life. He was supposed to be the spare king, a thing to look forward to, but as of Cheka his role is now essentially moot. His achievements as a Magift player overshadowed by Malleus, who has been considered to be inducted into the Hall of Fame for his achievements—Something that Leona probably has already done and more but bc Malleus beats him out in sheer magic factor you can see why there'd be some bitterness in that.

He doesn't have to strive to be a king, but he wants to bc thats the closest he'll get to his brother and, in spite of his self sabotaging ways, ultimately have purpose in life.

I do not believe that Leona is lazy, but rather because he believes he has "no place" in life he finds himself meandering through it.

Savanaclaw is the best and worst that happened to him—because for a moment, he was separated from his title as second prince, for a moment he had a purpose.

Only to have it snatched away.

It's why I think that Malleus and Leona are direct parallels of each other at points. First v Second Prince, Treasured v Discarded, Fae v Beastmen.

Because the struggle of human v nature, the struggle of human nature, and the struggle of instinct are all things that have been written and talked about.

If Leona was raised better he'd be able to handle the disappointment, the dejection, and the shortcomings he faced. But that is an if scenario, and we know that if he were a better Beastmen he wouldn't have Overblotted.

However, for all his carefully crafted apathy we know that Leona still wants—we see that when he objects Crowley's proposal to induct Malleus into the Hall of Fame by arguing that everyone should have a chance to best him. Because to be in Savanaclaw is to have Tenacity, to claw for what you want regardless of birth order and predetermined circumstances.

In the end, we know that Leona has a competitive streak and clear cut goals—he wants to come out on top regardless of the odds.

And as we know, lions are group hunters, while reliant on their female counterparts male lions still have to hold their own.

The clear cut goal is—hunt and catch prey. There's nothing more and nothing less to be added.

And yet, his defeatist attitude always wins out in the end. A reality check that Leona had known since the beginning yet to hear it from the mouth of someone who, by virtue of being in Diasomnia and thus closer to Malleus (someone who would win by default), sends him over the edge.

Either way, even after his Over Blot I believe it's important to note that Leona does not truly change who he is fundamentally—its an act of defiance, because in the end he still gave it his all even if it was underhanded, even if it meant he'd possibly injure Malleus in the process.

In the end, after all those years spent being inert and constantly shifting gears to please that competitive streak in himself while also doing the bare minimum, he learns to go at his own pace.

He learns that he can't strive for a goal without truly, actively chasing after it. We see this in Chap 3 where he participates in Savanaclaw Magift training even mentioning that there is a RSA v NRC tournament coming up and that gives him the drive to train for it.

It might not be satisfactory, the fact that Leona hadn't drastically changed like Riddle and Vil had but it's a change that fits him. Because he'd lived his life wanting to have the odds play in his favor while actively sabotaging himself with his own defeatist mentality.

He doesn't change for the sake of changing, but rather he changes for himself and to make it easier to better 'hunt' for his goals.

[redux-iterum]

Ok, here's a little challenge for you and the editors; roast for me 10 WC couples of your choice.

This was fun! We each took five with a bonus from the editor, and you can read our complaints after the readmore.

LYNX (editor)

Violetshine X Tree: I'm still trying to get through the latter half of AVOS, so I haven't seen their first time meeting up or them falling in love or anything like that. What makes me rather uncomfortable with this couple is that Tree's old enough to be Violetshine's father. Pebbleshine and Hawkwing were already young lovers, but with the release of Tree's Roots, one can calculate Tree to be born around the same time as Hawkwing. He even meets a heavily pregnant Pebbleshine when he's around fifteen months old. Honestly, if his and Violetshine's dynamic in late AVOS is good enough for a Warriors couple, I'm willing to just headcanon him as at most eight months older than her to make it more palatable. By the way, this has nothing to do with the ages when they meet up. Violet's a year old by Darkest Night and nearly an adult if her sister's warrior assessment is anything to go by.

Clear Sky X Storm: It's been some years since I read DotC, but the love drama in The Sun Trail was pretty stupid. Especially the insta-love thing. Maybe it was an insta-attraction? But this is Warriors and we can't have that, noooooooooo...

Clear Sky X Star Flower: Everyone's gone on with how Clear Sky getting with his son's ex is rather dubious, but what is often neglected is the fact that Star Flower can make choices too! She made the choice to go for her ex's dad which is about as questionable as Clear Sky's choice! My personal headcanon is that she's the kitty equivalent of a gold-digger.

Pebbleshine X Hawkwing: Alright, so you're either of these two nitwits who've recently become a warrior. Your very way of life has been drastically upturned by someone you thought you could trust. You've lost family and friends to your betrayal, and what's worse is you've lost your home. The world you've known for your whole life has been ripped form you and you have to keep ambling forward with the hope that the place you'll finally settle in will be worth all this hardship. The path ahead of you is long, uncertain, and dangerous, and you'll need to have a clear head to have a hope of surviving this season. SOUNDS LIKE THE PERFECT TIME TO BOINK AND START A FAMILY, AM I RIGHT?

Bumblestripe X Dovewing: Pushy, inconsiderate, trademark Nice Guy, from questioning why they haven't had children yet at some random meeting to suggesting they have children at her friend's funeral, everyone's said it already. Bumblestripe is not a good cat for Dovewing. I'm glad she's not with him since that makes her happy. But... Tigerfartstar X Dovewing: Yeah, Dovewing, your taste in toms is awful. This temperamental, arrogant, patronizing shipdit, while not as bad as Bimbostripe over there, is still pretty bad. It's been a long while since I read OotS and I haven't yet read Tigerheart's Shadow, but I probably should to get a refresher on why I hate this couple.

DULLARD

Bristlefrost x Rootspring: So ignoring that Rootspring as a -paw is a whiny, overly defensive putz that acts self-conscious about having Tree as his father, Bristlefrost does not ONCE show interest in him. Not once. Count ‘em, zero times. In fact, she’s aware of his crush on her and is embarrassed whenever he comes around and whenever people notice him staring at her. She actively avoids him and speaks curtly, even rudely, to try and drive him off. Then, out of buttfuck nowhere, she says she has feelings for him once he’s a warrior? When they’ve barely interacted beyond her spurring his affections? Fuck with that?

Crowpaw x Feathertail: Feathertail, you’re a nice girl. You’re team mom and almost a second in command to Brambleclaw. Everyone likes you. So why in the good god damn fuck does a pissant like Crowpaw (an apprentice at the time, by the way) deserve your recognition, let alone your love? You could get literally any other cat you wanted to, and you go for the fruit that was formerly hanging the lowest, but dropped off the tree and is now rotting on the floor. He is nothing but a dick to you and only starts being remotely kind two seconds before you die. Please love yourself and do better in StarClan.

Bluefur x Oakheart: Speaking of low hanging fruit, this is a very, very easy one to dunk on. It’s moreso the fact that this entire “relationship” is treated as one of the great tragic romances in this series than anything else. The two of them talk, what, two or three times? And then have exactly one night together before Bluefur kills one of their kits and shoves the other two on him and then that’s it. That’s all they had. A one night stand and child death. What a love story. Why does Bluefur think Thrushpelt is the worse option, again?

Dustpelt x Fernpaw: GOD, this relationship is creepy. I still get simultaneously unnerved and mad whenever I read the first arc, because Dustpelt initially seems like he’ll go with Sandstorm before she stupidly falls in love with Fireheart, but then he sets his sights on someone so much younger than him that he actually asks if he can mentor her instead of his original apprentice (her brother, fun fact). Let me emphasize that, because he is actively seeking a power imbalance in this relationship, and he clearly intends to eventually get with her. Bear in mind that she is still being treated like she’s a young kid, if not a teenager, by the narrative. I could be here all day on this fucking topic, but let’s move on.

Berrynose x Poppyfrost: We all know what I’m going to say here. Berrynose having the brass to say loving things to a dying, agonizing Honeyfern after she spent all this time pining after him, and then less than two months later, he shacks up with her sister. That is the coldest thing he could possibly have done to her. The fact that the writers decided that she’s totally okay with the relationship and takes care of her sister’s dead kits like they’re hers is extra terrible. Like, she still gets the scraps when she’s dead? Seriously?

[lazarettta]

Misthios

Characters (Reader x Mother Miranda...?) 👀

Rating (T)

Word Count (2.8k)

Warnings (none, first half is has no dialogue, writing while high,)

Once her little warrior, always her little warrior.

I'm sorry if it's hot 🗑💀

The fire was finally the way you wanted it and you could finally fucking rest. You'd been hiking all goddamn day through the rain and snow, and you just wanted a minute to rest and to eat. The sun was starting to set and you still needed to set up your tent, but for the moment you were content to just sit on the log and get warm.

“Who'd ever think a Spartan would be in Rome looking for answers, hm?” it was ironic, how you would've been accused of being a traitor or something like that back then. Ha...back then?

Truthfully you weren't sure anymore where your life really started it's been so long, centuries really if you were being honest. Sometimes even your own secrets were too overwhelming for you to admit, and as the years continued to pass you by it was getting harder and harder for you to hold onto the same principles you once believed in. The wars you've participated in, two of them by choice...and as a favor for the third.

It shouldn't have been possible but it was for you, it was both a blessing and a curse because you were nothing special...you grew up with Spartan blood running through your veins, pushed at a young age to hunt and to protect, it was a common tradition for families then, especially for the oldest or only children. Your didn't ever recall your father, he died in battle before you were born but your mother was there, always. Even if her face was blurry after all of the time that has passed you by—you still remember her teachings and her technique. Your mother was the best hunter in Sparta, proudly.

But after...after her passing, the streets taught you how to be a mercenary at a young age...and then an assassin, not by choice but by necessity because you weren't a good person then, not really, and you still weren't now...but you still had the will do what was right, and so you did.

And maybe that is why the Gods did not let you die in the battlefield when you'd been caught off guard, for what is no longer relevant as it is now long gone, but the scar left through your heart would forever stain you inside and out by some random Greek bastard. You don't remember much of the dying part as much as you remembered how badly it hurt and how livid you were watching him stand over you with his bloody sword raised to the heavens. But just like your pain, that emotion was ebbed away as you laid there dying.

And die you did. And your body laid there for who knows how long but when you woke up, oh you sprung up ready to fight but there wasn't a fight left to be had...the war was over...but you didn't know that until you woke up the second time. Not realizing that your body was next to be burned in the ditch as the battlefield was being cleared of all the corpses from both sides. A gruesome chore performed by the prisoners taken by Sparta.

You had no idea why the Gods healed you and brought you back from the dead, you didn't deserve a second chance (at the time you didn't realize that it was a power). You were blessed by the Gods and that's all that it was, people looked at you with both awe and envy. Some gave all of their iron and dearest family possessions as a gift to the Gods in hopes that their wishes were granted. They hated you and you did not care. You were unstoppable, everyone wanted your attention and your skills—it made you arrogant and stupid for years. And when you caught a pretty nasty gash across your back from a werewolf that ambushed you and your horse, your leathers had been torn and bloody by the time you speared your way through four of those beasts. But while there was blood, there was no wound...the only evidence were the scars it left behind.

Snap!

You turned your head slightly, a few strands of your hair falling in front of your ever sharp (y/e/c) eyes. You stayed perfectly still, eyes scanning the forest surrounding you but there was nothing after several moments. Just as well...with a loud sigh, you finally got up to put up your tent for the night and probably for the next few nights too. You slipped your hunting knife back into your boot but kept it unhooked just in case.

You lived in a time where guns existed but you were always better with a blade. You may not be an active misthios now (mercenary in today's world) but old habits were hard to kick. You were too old and too wise now, even if you didn't look a day over twenty-eight.

The next morning...

You woke with a start your grip around your obsidian hunting knife so tight your knuckles your skin strained against bone. You didn't have a dream but something woke you up, and it wasn't those damn birds chirping literally above your tint. With the help of the morning sun you could even see the spot where one of them pooped. Great. You laid there for a few more minutes, finally relaxed enough to move. You checked your surroundings again, walking around your camp but that feeling of unease didn't go away but it wasn't as strong.

Today was clearer than it was the day before though you still had to deal with the snow and the cold, not that either really bothered you too much. Leaving your camp behind, marking the trees so that you had a way to find your way back through these unfamiliar woods, you set off to find breakfast. You came to an edge, a cliff's peak and you went to stand on the edge of it—to maybe see the rest of the mountain you were exploring but something caught your immediate attention.

When was the last time you ever saw a castle? Not...not those tourist marks they have all over Europe but a castle. The place was eerie but most castles always felt that way to you...but this was different? It was as if the castle was looking right back at you, mocking you. From your vantage point you could make out the edges of a lake through the thick trees, you couldn't see it very well but you could tell it wasn't small nor was it man-made.

It was a pleasant surprise to discover this as you assumed that your trip would mostly be you exploring this cold ass mountain without a proper guide but you didn't need anyone to know why you were really up here, your reasons concerned no one but yourself. That and you knew you'd end up leading your guide. You were better off alone. Or at least that's what you kept telling yourself that but those words stopped being comforting a very long time ago. Not like fate was giving you much of a fucking choice though.

Your stomach growled, reminding you of your hunt...you glanced down at the village below the castle curiously before turning away from the ledge, the heavy aura of the castle still on your back.

~~

Fat and full, that's exactly how you'd describe yourself at the moment. There were more predators in the area than there were prey it seemed but the rabbit you caught seemed plentiful enough. With winter kicking in, the most worrisome predator in the woods would be hibernating leaving nothing but the wolves and maybe a mountain lion for you to deal with if you're lucky. You hefted your smaller backpack onto your back and left your camp, deciding to check out the village to see if you could learn more about the castle.

You were both excited and curious, you'd spent a majority of your modern life exploring the wonders of the Earth and using the currency you've collected throughout your lifetimes to fund whatever myth caught your eye. In other words, you were bored but the thought of war and fighting no longer made your blood sing or your heart race. You've done so much of that already, and lost so much because of it.

“Get back! Get back! Agh—GET THE FUCK BACK!”

Your legs stopped moving immediately and your gloved hand was already wrapped around the hilt of your hunting knife, ears trained. You heard growling and barking not too far from where you stood, maybe two or three hundred feet to your right just through those bushes and that fallen tree. It sounded as if someone was having a bit of trouble with a pack of wolves. Which struck you as odd, you were still pretty high up on the mountains and you hadn't seen anyone else up here in a week, so it couldn't have been a local...could it?

The growling grew more intense and there were sounds of a scuffle and grunts but the man still sounded alive.

And it wasn't your problem. Your days of coming to the rescue were over. You allowed your hand to fall from your knife. You got maybe seven steps away before the man spotted you, he caught a glimpse of your fur lined hood and started screaming for you to help him just as one of the wolves snapped the branch he was holding in half, forcing his back against a tree. His time was counting down now.

He was yelling so loud, you were sure even the villagers could hear him now. There was no way you could walk away now.

“Fucking hell.” with a heavy sigh, you dropped your backpack and stalked in the direction of the soon to be crime scene. You didn't feel the need to mask your presence, you wanted the wolves to know that you were there and that ultimately saved that man's life. The wolves were honed in on you the moment you stepped through the bush but three shots echoed through the small clearing before any of them could pounce in your direction. The echoes faded away quickly, and you sighed again watching the white snow stain red beneath the furry corpses.

The only other sound heard was the man's heavy breathing as he leaned against a tree. You looked down at your gun before putting it back in it's holster on your lower back, you may prefer blades but it was always better to have something and not need it, than to need it and not have it.

“Thank...thank you,”

You looked at the man with furrowed brows...just by looking at him, you knew that he wasn't a native but the moment he opened his mouth only confirmed it. He was American...you spotted all of his gear nearby, torn to shreds and you scoffed.

“I don't think camping is for you.”

“I don't think so either,” He tried for a smile but it was only a grimace, the blonde man pushed himself from the tree and approached you, carefully stepping around the wolves bodies, “I'm uh a bit lost, I guess.”

“And I'm leaving.”

“Wait!” he rushed around you, stopping you and you could've gone through the man if you wanted to...you were taller than him by an inch or two, and you definitely had more mass than he probably knew what to do with, “Listen, I'm obviously not from here, but I'm trying to find my daughter okay, she's—”

“I'm not from around here,” you held your hand to make him stop while simultaneously telling yourself that you're not about to get involved in someone else's mess and derail your own mission, “I'm sorry about your kid, but I can't help you.”

He frowned at you obviously not happy with your answer but he was quickly reaching into his pocket and any normal person, especially someone who is armed, would've taken a step back but you weren't some ordinary person. You simply raised an eyebrow, because you knew that he wasn't going to attack you even though he was probably fully capable of doing so. You assumed that he was about to dig out a baby picture or something but it was just a sheet of paper with writing on it. You took it before he could shove the damn thing in your face and you looked down at it carefully, keeping your face neutral.

“I can't read whatever language that is.”

You glared up at him from beneath your lashes, “And you think that I can?”

“Can you?” he shot back, and you rolled your eyes...your attention back to the paper before shoving it back in his hands, “Well?”

You nearly scowled at his impatience, “It's a mix of Romanian, Serbian and Tatar. Whoever sent that clearly doesn't want anyone else to know what's on it.”

“So you can read it then?”

“Bits and pieces,” You said with a shrug, “I'm not expert but someone named Beneviento is demanding a shorter route for wine delivery from that giant castle.”

He stared at you then down to the paper, which was full from top to bottom, then back to you, “What...that's all? Are you sure?? No, that can't be all...there has to be something about my daughter here! Here, please, just try again slower—”

“That's all I could read.” you shouldered past him, throwing your hood back up and ignoring his calls after you. Your backpack was exactly where you dropped it, you shook off the snow and threw it back on your back not caring about the cool wetness on your back now—you just wanted to get away from this area as quickly as possible. You should've used your knife as those gunshots gave away your position.

“Amateur hour everyone,” you grumbled under your breath...you veered off the path slightly, just in case he tried to follow you (wouldn't be the first time someone tried to force you to help them).

You'd maybe walked for a mile or two down the mountain before you noticed the hairs on the back of your neck standing, you chanced a casual glance over your shoulder but there was no one there, no man nor animal. Licking your dry lips you turned back around but as you were doing so, you caught something in your peripheral. A dark figure, twenty feet away and that's when you noticed how fucking quiet everything was around you...you forced yourself to keep walking even as a feeling of dread began crawling up your back, like two sharp fingers walking along the ridges of your spine.

Pushing the hood from your head, you whirled around with your knife drawn at your side gripping it with the intentions to kill but there was nothing there except two large obsidian feathers fluttering gently down onto the snow at your boots. Feathers?

Cool breath touched the base of your neck when you heard soft chuckling directly behind you. You turned around sharply, easily flipping your knife around but the mass of darkness in front of you disoriented you for a split second and that was all this creature needed. Before you could plunge your knife into it's feathery belly, a pale hand shot out and caught your wrist in a bruising grip as another hand curled itself around your throat, sharp nails oh so slightly pricking your skin.

You were about to kick away when the creature leaned forward, and it's face came from beneath the hood...only it wasn't an it, it was a she, though her entire face was hidden by the gold headgear you could see her lips and...and her eyes.

A pair of eyes you'd never forget in any of your lifetimes. It felt like a millennia ago when those eyes alone had you on your knees covered in fresh warm blood and exhausted from tearing through small armies.

Despite yourself, you were trembling in her ironclad grip, your hand that wasn't still trapped fruitlessly came up to wrap around her wrist as if that was going to help you. You both knew that it wouldn't. She brought you closer until your feet were no longer on the ground and you could feel the tip of your blade pressing against something...no, her...and your nose was nearly touching her helmet.

“ο μικρός μου πολεμιστής...” (my little warrior...) her cool breath washed over your face, her eyes still boring down into yours so intensely you swore you felt the heat, even as her hand tightened around your throat making you choke, but you were fighting against her... “επιτέλους ήρθες σπίτι μου...” her chuckle fell on deaf ears. (you've finally come home to me...)

~~

You were supposed to run into Alcina first 😭, but Miranda works too...(save the best for last obvi) I don't know I am playing Odyssey while waiting for this game to drop and I went The Old Guard route too so then I just ended up writing some shit, and I wanted to try something that's not so maiden-esque lol so I hope it's enjoyable at least...I honestly might make this a WIP...

[rowyn-writes]

Mending A Broken Heart (Jared x Reader)

Warnings: SMUT, breeding kink, unprotected sex, (wrap it before you tap it, kids,) oral sex, female receiving, slight praise kink, angst, mentions of miscarriage, mentions of non-con, mentions of cheating, reader has PCOS, fluff, strong language.

Pairings: Jared x Reader

Characters: Jared, Jensen, Danneel, JJ Ackles, Misha (mentioned only)

Word count: 3.7k

Summary: You get a call from you older sister, Danneel, saying that she is in labor. When you arrive, your first niece is being born. You call your soon to be husband to inform him of JJ's birth, only to have a woman answer his phone.

You were on a mission.

You walked with purpose through the hallways of the hospital, not even stopping when a nurse asked if you needed help. You were Y/N Graul. You didn't need help to find your sisters freaking room.

"Ackles." You said, approaching two men. "Padalecki. How's my sister?" Just as the words left your mouth, you heard an ear piercing scream. "That answers that question." You pushed past them and into Danneel's delivery room.

"Ma'am, you can't be in here!" The doctor ordered.

"She's my sister." Danneel waved her off. "She can be here." The mother to be let out another groan of pain. You grabbed her hand, letting Danneel use it to relieve some of her pain. You winced slightly. Your sister had a strong grip.

You didn't understand how women could all over the world could go through this pain. Especially those without epidurals. 

"I want Jensen!" She cried.

You nodded, quickly making your way out into the hall. "Ackles! Get your ass in here!" Jensen gave Jared a scared look before following you inside.

"I'm here, sweetheart." He assured her as he took your place. You hid your smile at brother-in-law's kindness. You and Jensen never got along, mostly because you were so alike. You were both hard headed, but you had a big heart. You'd never say, but you secretly liked him.

"C'mon, Dannie," You encouraged, coming on the other side of her. "You've got this. Push!"

Danneel yelled once more, gripping both of your hands and she tried to push. "No! No, no, no. I can't do this!" She whined.

"You can and you will!" You demanded. "You are Danneel Ackles, you are a badass, powerful woman and you will be a great mother! All you have to do is push!"

"Easier said that done!" Danneel barked, her  auburn hair sticking to her forehead with sweat.

"We're almost there, Mrs. Ackles! One more push!" And with one last scream, and one last push, Danneel fell back on the bed, panting heavily. There was a small cry that pierced through the room, which caused the three adults to look over at the doctor.

"Congratulations," She smiled softly. "You just gave birth to a healthy baby girl."

Danneel and Jensen shared wide smiles as their newborn baby girl was set into their arms. "She's beautiful." Jensen whispered. "She has your eyes."

"She has your nose." Danneel looked over at you, her eyes filled with joy. "Y/N, can you give us a minute?"

"Of course, Dannie." You kissed her forehead. "I'm so happy for you."

You exited the room, only to find Jared pacing back and forth. "How are they? Danneel stopped screaming. Is she okay?" He asked, worry written across his face.

"They're okay. Better than okay, actually. Danneel just became a mother to a beautiful baby girl." You beamed proudly.

Jared let out a relieved laugh as he surged forward to hug you. You stood stiffly in his hold, unsure of what to do. You weren't used to physical affection, as your boyfriend rarely held you anymore. The last time you had been this close to Jared was at Jensen and Danneel's wedding when you both walked down the aisle together.

You slowly wrapped your arms around him, patting his back awkwardly. "Sorry," He apologized sheepishly. "I'm a hugger."

"So I've noticed." You said, stepping away. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some exciting news to share with my family."

You found an empty hallway and began to call every family member you could think of. Gino was first, obviously. You knew how excited he was when he found out Danneel was pregnant. Your parents were next, and then your cousins, aunts, uncles, etc.

You cringed as you looked at the last name on your contacts. Will.

You hadn't been on very good terms as of late. The two of you had been fighting constantly, especially after you found out Danneel was pregnant. You were beyond happy for her and Jensen; they were finally starting the family they had always dreamed about.

Fuck it. You might as well get it over with. It rang three times before it was finally answered. "Hello?" An unfamiliar female voice said.

"Uh, who is this?" You questioned, starting to get defensive. It was four o'clock in the morning in Vermont.

"Lacy," She answered simply.

"And what are you doing with my fiance's phone, Lacy?"

"Who is it, babe?" You heard Will in the background.

"It's your fiance, William. The one that I didn't know you had!" Lacy screamed. "You asshole! I can't believe you cheated! And I can't believe you dragged me into it! We're done!" You felt your throat close up, your eyes began to well up with tears.

Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry. You kept repeating to yourself. This was the happiest day of Jensen and Danneel's life, you couldn't bring them down.

"Y/N, baby, this really isn't what it sounds like." Will claimed after Lacy threw his phone at him. 

"No, Will, I think it's exactly what it sounds like." You whispered harshly. "You cheated. After three years, you cheated on me."

"Well you didn't give me much of a choice, did you?" He growled.

"Excuse me?"

"You haven't let me touch you in almost eight months. What else was I supposed to do? I have needs, Y/N."

"You know why we haven't done anything!" You hissed, tears running down your face. "You know exactly why!"

"Can't you just get over it! God, Y/N, we could always try again!" He yelled.

"Get over it? Get over it?! I lost my baby and you just want me to get over it! I can't just forget about it, Will. I should be having  my baby - our baby - in five weeks. July ninth."

"You know what I mean, Y/N. Of course I don't want you to forget about the baby, but we could always try again! It wasn't the end of the world!"

"Yes, it was, Will! You know how hard it is for me to get pregnant ever since I was diagnosed with PCOS-"

"It always comes back to that! 'Sorry, I can't have sex with you today because I feel bloated,' or 'Sorry I'm acting so down, my depression is bad today.' You use PCOS as an excuse to everything!"

You stayed silent for a moment, trying to calm yourself. "It was never going to work, was it?" You said quietly. "We both want kids, but I can't give you that. I can't give you a lot of things, apparently. When I come back, I want you out of my house. I'm going to be staying with Danneel and Jensen for a while. They're going to need some help with the new baby. It's a girl, just in case you were wondering." You hung up the phone, taking in a shaky breath.

"Son of a bitch!" You wailed as you threw your phone against the wall. You slowly slid to the floor, putting your head in your hands. You tried to quiet your sobs by biting your lip, which only caused your mouth to be filled with a metallic liquid.

Get it together, Y/N. You wiped the tears off your face, trying to calm yourself down. You couldn't believe this was happening. Your sister, your best friend, just gave birth to a healthy daughter. You should be celebrating, not crying over your crappy fiance. Ex fiance. 

You picked yourself off the floor, grabbing your phone as you did so. Of course it was shattered. You quickly went to the bathroom, your puffy face startling you. You splashed cold water on your face, which got rid of it for the most part.

You made your way back to Danneel's room, where the atmosphere was happy and joyful. Something that made your mood lighten just a fraction. "Hey Mama! How are you?"

"Doped up on pain meds," She grinned. "Having a baby really hurts. I knew it would hurt, I mean, I've seen the videos, but damn, that was awful." You laughed as you brushed her hair back.

"What's her name?"

"Justice Jay Ackles." Jensen answered, bringing your niece forward. "JJ for short. Do you want to hold her?"

You nodded eagerly as JJ was set into your arms. She began to fuss a little, reaching out for her father. "Shh, shh." You cooed. "It's okay, sweet JJ. I'm your Auntie Y/N/N. You'll get to meet the others soon enough. They're going to love you, just like your mommy and daddy love you. You are going to have a whole village looking after you, did you know that? Yeah, you have me, your uncle Gino, that's mommy's brother. Then you have your uncle Josh and Aunt Mack, that's your daddy's siblings. Then of course you have Uncle Jared and Misha. Those are daddy's best friends."

Jared and Jensen smiled at you. You were already so in love with JJ. "Danneel's knocked out." Jensen whispered. "The nurse wants to take JJ up to the nursery while she sleeps." You nodded as you handed over the baby. "Alright, I'm gonna go get us some food. You guys want anything?"

"No, I'm good." You shook your head.

"Same." Jared agreed.

And with that, Jensen left you and Jared alone with a sleeping Danneel. You grabbed your phone out of your back pocket and tried to turn it on. Just your luck, the screen stayed black. That's what you get for throwing your phone at the wall.

"What in the hell happened to your phone, Y/N?" Jared questioned.

"It fell out of my pocket." You lied. "I guess I'll have to buy and new one."

"Damn, that sucks." He frowned. You gave a small shrug, not saying much of anything. "Are you okay, Y/N? You don't seem like yourself."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, normally you like to take jabs at me and Jensen. Hell, the only one you really like is Misha. Plus, ever since you came back in the room, you've been frowning and your eyes are still puffy from where I know you've been crying." You felt your heart sink to your stomach. "I know you don't like me very much, or Jensen, for that matter, but we do care. What's wrong?"

You stayed silent for a moment, trying to sort out your words. "I can't say it here. Follow me."

You grabbed Jared by the hand and led him to where the nursery is. You needed something happy to cheer you up.

"Let me start this by saying that I don't hate you or Jensen." You didn't take your eyes off the adorable babies, but your hand was still brushing up against his. "I have known you both for a while now, and I care about you guys. Making jabs and snarky comments is how I show that I care." You could see Jared smiling out of the corner of your eye.

"I called Will this morning to tell him that Danneel had the baby." You saw Jared's smile fade slightly. "A woman answered his phone, and usually I wouldn't think anything of it. I would make an excuse that it's his secretary or assistant, but it was four a.m in Vermont when I called. Her name was Lacy." Your voice cracked.  "And it's my fault!"

"Y/N, it's not your fault-"

"But it is, Jare," You whispered. "It is. I pushed him away for months. Do you know how long it's been? Eight months. It's been eight months, Jared. And Will 'has needs.'"

"That's the dumbest excuse ever." He mumbled.

"This next part. . . I haven't told anyone but Will. Not Danneel, not Gino, not my parents, anyone. So you have to promise not to tell anyone. I'll tell my family once I'm ready, but for now, they don't need to know."

Jared's frown deepened. "I won't say anything, Y/N, I promise. Are you okay?"

"No," You shook your head. "I haven't been okay for a while now." You took a deep breath before continuing. "Last year I was diagnosed with Polycystic Ovary Syndrome – PCOS for short."

"Yeah, I've heard of it." Jared said softly, his eyes filled with pity.

"Will and I had been trying so hard for a baby. And when we found out I had PCOS, we stopped. And I was heartbroken. I've wanted to start a family for so long, and to get that news hurt me. And it hurt Will." You felt your hands start to shake.

"One night after I had one too many drinks, I passed out on the couch, and I woke up the next morning in my bed with all my clothes off and Will lying in my bed beside me. I don't know what happened that night, but I know I didn't want it. And four weeks later I found out I was pregnant." Jared's jaw clenched and his eyes held something malicious.

"I didn't care how it happened. I know I should have, but I was just so excited to have a baby. To be a mother. And then when I went to my OBGYN, she told me I had. . . I had a miscarriage."

"Oh, Y/N," Jared said sadly, resting his hand on your shoulder.

"I lost my baby. And I don't know what to do with myself, Jare." You cried. "W-what am I supposed to do?"

You were shaking uncontrollably now, unable to calm down. "That m-might have been my only chance!" Jared swallowed hard as he brought you in for a hug. "I want my baby!" You wailed.

"I know," He whispered as he gripped you tight. "I know, honey. I am so sorry. This is so unfair to you. You deserve so much better than this."

"What if it was my last chance?" You sniffed.

"It wasn't," He assured you as he rocked you back and forth. "There are fertilization treatments, surrogacy, adoption. . . You'll be a mother one day, Y/N, and you'll be the best mother a child could ever ask for."

"Really?" You asked in a small voice, looking up at the tall man. He smiled as he brushed back a piece of your hair and wiped away your tears.

"Really."

You felt your heart beating out of your chest and your breaths quickening. "Jared,"

"Yeah?"

"Kiss me."

He didn't have to be told twice as he leaned down to kiss your lips. He cupped your face with both of his hands, bringing you closer to him. "Mm," He moaned, pulling away. "Not in front of the babies. They're too young to be scarred this way." You laughed as he dragged you away to a bathroom, making sure no one was in there before locking the door.

Jared grabbed you by the waist and gently pushed you against the wall. He wasted no time as he pressed his lips against yours once more. His tongue slid across your lower lip, asking for permission to enter, which you happily granted.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, trying to pull him closer. Jared put his hand on the back of your thigh, encouraging you to jump. You got the memo as you lifted yourself up, wrapping your legs around his waist. He moved and set you down on the counter.

"Do you want to keep going?" Jared asked, breathless.

"Yes," You nodded, your face flushed. "Please, Jare." He groaned at the nickname.

"I love it when you call me that." He said as he ran kisses down your jaw and to your neck.

SMUT UNDER THE CUT

"And I. . . Love it when. . . You kiss my neck like that." You panted as you began to unbutton Jared's shirt. You ran your hands across his abs and looped your fingers around his belt buckle.

"You are far too overdressed." Jared complained as he tugged at the hem of your shirt.

"Why don't you fix that for me?" You smirked. There was a mischievous sparkle in his eyes as he pulled your shirt off your body.

You covered your stomach as you suddenly felt shy when Jared's eyes raked over your body. He frowned as he pulled your arms away. "Why are you hiding from me?"

"I- I dunno. It's just. . . All the girls you've been with in the past like Gen and Sandra are so beautiful and I look nothing like them -"

"Let me stop you right there," Jared said sternly. "You are gorgeous and incredibly sexy. Don't you dare compare yourself to them, because they could never be as beautiful as you. Don't let any asshole tell you otherwise. Do you understand?" You nodded slowly, fighting off the smile that crept onto your face. "Good, now let's pick up where we left off, shall we?"

Jared pulled down your jeans and tossed them aside, along with your panties. He looked at you like he hadn't eaten in days and you were a four course meal.

He began to trail kisses up your thighs, getting so close to where you wanted him to be only for him to pull away. "Quite being such a tease!" You growled.

Jared have you a smirk. "Yes ma'am." And with that he pulled you forward slightly so you were sitting on the edge of the counter. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion before a wave of euphoria hit as you felt Jared's tongue on your clit.

"Oh-" You moaned, only for Jared to cover your mouth with his hand.

"Shh, you wouldn't want anyone to hear, would you?" He questioned. You shook your head, desperate for him to return to where he was. "Be a good girl for me and stay quiet." His kissed you on the mouth before going back to eating you out. You bit your lip in attempts to silence your moans.

"Fuck," You whispered as you leaned your head back. Jared began to tease your hole with his tongue, making you gasp and grab onto his long locks.

You felt warmth spread through your stomach and a familiar coil began to tighten. "Oh, god, Jare, please keep going!" You encouraged him. "I'm so close."

At those words, Jared pulled away abruptly, making you want to cry out. "Sorry babygirl, you can only come when I say you can."

You frowned at his words. "Don't worry, I'll make sure you enjoy it." He winked. Jared began to unbuckle his belt; you could see his growing erection through his jeans. "I don't have a condom." He said defeated. "Are you clean?"

You nodded. "What about you?"

"Yeah, I'm all good." He assured you.

"Then we should be fine, it's not like I can get pregnant anyways."

"You never know." Jared said as he nipped at your neck. As he left love bites on your neck, you began to pull down his jeans, revealing his hardon. You pushed yourself off the counter and got on your knees, only for Jared to pull you back up.

"Not this time, kitten. This is about you, not me."

"But I want to make you feel good." You protested.

"Next time, baby." You smiled at the thought of a next time. He quickly turned you around so you were bent over the counter. "You're so wet." He growled as he grinded against you. "All this for me?"

"Yes, Jare. Only for you." You panted, desperate for his cock.

"Good," He murmured against your neck. "I've been waiting a while for this to happen, there is no way I'm letting it go to waste. Do you still want this?" He questioned, wanting to make sure you were still comfortable with it.

"If you stopped now I might have to kill you." Jared slowly pushed into you, as he didn't want to hurt you. You gasped in surprise; you had never been with someone as big as him. He gave you time to adjust to his size. "Move." You pleaded.

Jared chuckled as he slowly began to thrust into you. He grunted at the feeling of your warmth. "Fuck, Y/N." He moaned. "You're so fucking tight."

He began to pick up speed, which earned a moan from you. Jared put his hand over your mouth to silence your sounds, but you could still hear you skin slapping together.

"Oh, fuck." He growled. "I'm gonna cum. Gonna fill you with my seed, make you all round. God, you'd look so fucking sexy carrying my baby." Your eyes rolled into the back of your head at his words, causing your walls to clench around his dick. "Would you like that, huh? Being so full of my cum that it runs down you legs."

"Oh, fuck yes." You nodded. "Please, Jared, fill me with your cum. Make me carry your child." You begged.

Jared gripped your hips tightly, (definitely leaving bruises) as he rammed into you. You struggled to keep quiet, as all you wanted to do was scream from pleasure. "You're going to look so good filled with my cum." He purred.

"Let me cum with you." You whined, the coil in your stomach was ready to snap.

"I'm so close." He grunted, sweat dotting his brow. "Cum with me, babygirl. Cum." He demanded.

You shuttered as your coil finally snapped and you rode out your orgasm on Jared's dick. He followed soon after you, blowing his load into your womb.

"Holy shit," You muttered. "That was so fucking hot."

"You're telling me." Jared said as he slowly pulled out, making you feel empty. You began to clean yourself up and put your clothes back on.

You both looked a mess; swollen lips, messy hair and to top it all of, hickeys scattered your neck. You reached up on your tip toes to flatten Jared's hair. "At least our hair covers the bruises." You grinned.

"So, what happens next?" Jared questioned.

"I guess that's up to you." You shrugged. "We can either go on a date and see how this plays out, or we can forget this ever happened."

"I don't want to forget." He shook his head. "I don't think I could forget."

"Good," You smiled. "I was hoping you would say that." Jared grinned as he leaned down to kiss you once more.

"I have a really good feeling about this."

[walkerismychoice]

Queen of My Heart - Chapter 38 (The End!)

Book: The Royal Romance

Pairing: Drake X MC, Liam X Olivia, Hana X OC Lydia

Rating: PG-13

Summary: The show comes to and end, and Riley contemplates her future

Author’s Note: I can’t believe I’ve finally brought this series to an end. There was quite a long time I thought I may never finish. I want to thank all the readers and friends who’ve read and encouraged me along the way. I want to especially thank @debramcg1106 as of late for helping me work through the ending and pushing me to finish it out. This is the technical end of the story, but I do have an epilogue planned as well.

Tag List: @khakie4 @dreadpirateemma @ritachacha @blackcoffee85 @choices-fanatic @boneandfur @butindeed @simplyaiden-blog @bobasheebaby @traeumerinsworld @theroyalweisme @umccall71 @lizeboredom @debramcg1106 @enmchoices @withice @viktoriapetit @mfackenthal @drakesfiance @drakelover78 @speedyoperarascalparty @silviasutton1989 @krisnicjack @devineinterventions2 @choiceswreckedme @notoriouscs @blackcatkita @hamalu @akrenich @drakewalkerfantasy @jamielea81 @andy-loves-corgis @jlouise88 @jovialyouthmusic @sleepwalkingelite @i-miss-trr @dragonball-luver @gkittylove99 @lovingchoices14

Word Count: 2230

Queen of My Heart Chapter Index

Due to everything that transpired, filming of the finale was delayed two weeks. Riley was grateful for the time and hardly left Drake’s side during his recovery. He was sent back to the palace after a couple days, and Riley had to convince him that whiskey was not a suitable replacement for the antibiotics and pain medication the doctor prescribed. Reluctantly he obliged. He worked with physical therapy, and by the end of those two weeks, you’d have hardly known he’d been injured at all.

Olivia was salty her ball had been ruined, but the production staff made up for it, giving her and Liam an overnight filmed at Olivia’s northern Lythikos retreat. She was still worried the country would favor Riley with Liam, but Kat assured Olivia between her heroic actions, personal growth, and some favorable editing, it would be hard for most people not to be on her side.

As for Madeleine, it was still unclear if she would be charged criminally or would be incompetent to stand trial due to her mental health, but either way, she wouldn’t be a danger to anyone for quite some time. It was questionable if Jo’s involvement in the whole thing broke any laws. She wasn’t Cordonian, so she couldn’t be charged with treason for skirting security and endangering the life of the crown prince, but authorities were looking to see if there was anything they could make stick. At the very least she was blacklisted and would never work in television again.

So finally, on a calm, clear, day, there was only one obstacle left. Riley met with Liam, adorned in a stunning, body-hugging, Swarovski crystal filled dress, to put on the performance of a lifetime and act as if he’d shattered her heart. Of course, it wasn’t that easy. There were a couple of takes where neither of them could keep a straight face followed few that were unbelievably dramatic, but ultimately Riley was able to tap into her vulnerability and the tragedy she had faced to bring genuine emotion and tears to light. It didn’t matter that it was unrelated to what was happening in the scene, it was real. Kat said it was perfect, and Liam was free to propose to Olivia.

-----

Now that all is said and done, who will Liam choose to be his future Queen? Will it be the fierce Duchess Olivia, or the plucky newcomer Riley? Stay tuned for the finale of Queen of My Heart.”

Maxwell draped his arm around Riley’s shoulder. “What do you think, sis? How did I do on my television debut.”

Maxwell, Bertrand, Savannah, Hannah, Lydia, Liam, Olivia, Riley, and Drake were all huddled in the palace screening room to watch the finale as it aired.

Just about anyone would have been an improvement over Chad,” Riley teased, ”but the squid suit was definitely a nice touch. Your delivery was great, but did you have to call me plucky?”

“You know I had to play it cool,” Maxwell explained. “Plucky is good, but not over the top. Don’t want anyone thinking I’m playing favorites because you’re my sister.”

Riley rolled her eyes. “The suggested ‘noble newcomer’ would have been sufficient.”

“It was a stylistic choice.” Maxwell made a gesture with his hand indicating a mock hair flip.

"Ugh, enough about Maxwell," Olivia groaned. "I'm ready to get to the good part. Can we just fast-forward through any mushy Liam and Riley stuff? Nobody needs to see that."

"I second that." Drake raised his hand in rare agreement with Olivia.

Liam just shook his head. "I know nobody watches live network television anymore, so you must have forgotten how this works. There's no fast-forwarding. Not even through commercials."

"That's fine with me." Lydia chimed in. "More time for making out."

"Lydia!" Hannah's cheeks turned a deep shade of pink.

Lydia pecked her on the lips. "Sorry babe. You're just too damn cute when you blush."

Hannah remained quiet but her smile gave her away. Lydia, with her outgoing, bold, and slightly unpredictable personality, was the perfect complement to Hannah being so shy, proper, and focused. They brought out the best in each other, and the difference in Hannah between when Riley met her until now was night and day.

The friends watched the show and Riley only cringed at herself in a few places, which was much less than she thought she would. Things did get a bit awkward during the montage of kissing scenes between Riley and Liam, and Maxwell and Bertrand made a show of covering their eyes for the steamier parts. They all laughed inappropriately when Liam dumped Riley since they knew it wasn't real. And then finally when Liam proposed to Olivia, everyone cheered.

Riley thought of her friends and family at home. She pictured aunt Susan, Sarah, and Daniel all rooting for her and how disappointed they must have been that she "lost." She couldn't wait to tell them, however, she hadn't lost at all.

"Wow, Livvy." Drake quipped, bringing Riley out of her deep thoughts. "How much did you have to pay them to give you such a flattering edit?"

Olivia threw a pillow at his head which he deftly dodged. "Fuck off, Walker. You were so desperate to get on the show, you leapt in front of a bullet."

"Now, now children." Liam said in a mock scolding tone. "Let's all play nice."

"Yes, father," Drake and Olivia replied in unison, causing laughter to erupt around the room.

Riley still didn't have all the answers about what her future would hold, but she had found her people. Where she was in that moment was where she needed to be.

Savannah yawned. "It's getting late. We should probably go and relieve the sitter." Riley hasn't wanted to pry into Savannah and Bertrand's relationship, but they were working together to parent Bartie and things seemed to be falling into place for them.

"Yes, yes." Bertrand agreed. "Time is money!"

"Oh my god, Bertrand." Savannah rolled her eyes. "Life isn't all about money."

"She’s right." Maxwell propped his arm on Savannah's shoulder. "Besides, now that the show is over, we'll be getting some money, and Kat said if viewers responded well to me, they would probably offer to extend my contract in the franchise. By the looks of these tweets, I'm going to be rolling in dough. 'That Maxwell guy is so hot...ridiculously funny...just what the show needed.' Should I read more?

"Please no." Bertrand groaned. "We can talk finances later. Goodnight, all."

As the rest of the crowd dwindled, Liam asked Drake and Riley to stay behind. He kissed Olivia and promised to join her when the conversation was through.

"So what's up?" Drake got right to the point once only the three of them remained.

Liam cleared his throat. "Well as you know, I highly value your loyalty to the crown."

"Heh." Drake let out a terse laugh. "I don't really give a fuck about the crown, but I do care about you."

"In any case, you take your job very seriously and I could see you as head of the guard one day, once Bastien retires." Liam paused before continuing. "However, I do have another proposition for you."

Drake raised an eyebrow skeptically. "Go on."

"How would you like to be the head of Valtoria?" Liam asked expectantly.

Drake' eyes narrowed in contemplation. "I thought Valtoria was unoccupied. Is there a new Duke or Duchess there now that needs a security detail?"

"No, no." Liam laughed. "Well, there could be. That's what I'm trying to ask you. I would like to give Valtoria to you."

"No fucking way. You have to be kidding me. Did you sign up for some royal version of a prank show now?" Drake scanned the room as if searching for hidden cameras.

"I'm serious, Drake. I think you would make a fantastic duke."

Drake scoffed. "I'm a commoner who despises most nobles and everything the monarchy stands for."

"That's exactly why you'd be perfect for the role." Liam explained. "Cordonia needs a fresh perspective - someone who can resonate with the people the monarchy serves. Just think, you could have a real voice in creating change. I don't want to rule like my father has and his father before. I want the people to have the representation they deserve, and you are a key to that."

Drake sighed deeply. "I don't know Li. Even if I could do this - if I wanted to - what makes me worthy? What's everyone going to say when they find out you gave an average dude the title of Duke just because he's your best friend?"

"I'll tell them that Drake Walker is anything but average. He's smart, capable, and fiercely loyal. He's saved my life more times than I count and has more integrity than anyone I know. Public policy can be learned, but these qualities cannot be taught. He may not be noble by blood, but he is my family, and he belongs."

'Wow, Liam." Drake ran a hand through his hair. "I don't know what to say."

"You're quiet over there." Liam directed at Riley. "What do you think?"

"Me?!" Riley had been as shocked by this as Drake, and she didn't know what to think. This was about Drake, not her. Did her opinion really matter? "I, uh.... think this is really Drake's decision."

Drake took Riley's hands in his. "But it's yours too. I mean, if we are going to be together..."

"Oh, well..." How was Riley supposed to help Drake decide such a life altering thing when she didn't even have her own life sorted out?

Drake didn't leave her fumbling for too long. "Liam, I really don't know if either of use is equipped to answer this question right now. It's a very generous offer, and the fact that I'm not totally shutting you down for suggesting such a ridiculous thing as me being a Duke should tell you I'm genuinely willing to entertain the idea."

Liam chuckled. "I completely understand. This life is new to both of you in different ways, and to navigate a new relationship on top of all that is a lot to ask. I'm in no hurry to fill the vacancy. Consider it an open-ended invitation. I trust that you'll be ready to make your decision long before the public pressures me into making a new appointment."

"Thanks, Liam." Drake gave him hug and patted him on the back. "Now get back to your fiancé before she blames me for keeping you too long."

-----

Back in her palace guestroom, Riley nestled into Drake, her head resting on his chest. "It's been quite a night, huh?

"You could say that again." Drake pulled her tighter against him.

"I kind of feel like we're moving so fast, we're skipping steps - like we're being asked to decide the rest of our lives before we even know what we want to do tomorrow." Riley knew nobody was outright asking for an immediate decision, but she felt the weight of everyone's expectations. Whether she stayed in Cordonia or went back home, she'd probably be disappointing someone.

"Who says we have to?" Drake asked. "You heard Liam. He doesn't need an answer right away. I Know you haven't decided what you want, and I sure as hell don't know what I'm going to do yet. Why don't we take some time together to just...be. Do normal couple things and see where the relationship takes us."

"Normal couple things... I mean I don't know how I can go back to my normal peasant life after attending weekly balls dressed in couture gowns," Riley teased, "but I think I could make that sacrifice for you, my commoner boyfriend."

"Hey, watch who you are calling commoner." Drake pinned Riley down and tickled her sides until she begged him to stop, and he collapsed beside her again. "I just may outrank you soon if I so choose."

Riley laced her fingers through Drake's. "It's crazy to think how our lives have changed in a few short months. I don't think I could have made it through all of this without you, and not just because you kept literally saving my life."

"You may not have taken a bullet for me, but you've saved me too. For once in my life, I see multiple paths with meaning and purpose. I've seen so much of myself reflected in you, but it id the version of me I want to be, not the one I was. You've shown me trials and hardships don't have to make you bitter, and that you don't have to fit the cookie cutter mold to find your place here... Oh, God, listen to me. What have you done to me Bennett?" Drake shuddered in mock disgust.

Riley softly pressed her lips to his and pulled back with a smirk. "I don't think I can take all the credit, or the blame as you might put it. But enough talk about the future. You said we should focus on the now, and right now all I need is you."

"Well then, your wish is my command." Drake pulled Riley tight to him and then they lost themselves in each other, completely unencumbered by any decisions about their future. Those could wait for another day.

[eclipsebythedawn]

Smothered Flames & Shadows (Part 1)

Hi guys! So this is my first fanfiction ever, and I’m honestly not sure if it’s even good but I thought I wanted to share some Gwynriel with you all :) I have a sort of story planned out and this will likely have more parts. I’m pretty sure I will continue this story since I have more stuff planned out (hence the part 1) but right now it’s just some Gwynriel crumbs. Hope you guys will enjoy it and stay safe wherever you are. 

(How are we gonna wait like ten years for the Gwynriel book because I believe in you SJM you MUST MUST give us Gwynriel ??!) 

Ps. This is the updated version, I added a new chunk for Azriel’s reaction. (Updated on 26 April 2021)

Azriel's wings flapped as he patrolled the skies. The dense cloud cover as well as the fading sunlight disguised his presence and he needed minimal effort to remain hidden. His shadows could taste the looming chaos and flitted around him warningly.

Be careful, be careful.

He could hear through their thoughts and saw through their lingering words. All was quiet here, it seemed. He would much rather preferred to be stationed at the ethereally beautiful Dawn Court, their High Lord serene but with an inner strength that was unflappable, instead of... here.

The Autumn Court held no such delights. Yes, the scenery was more than picturesque -- its flora suspended in eternal autumn, the golden-brown leaves swirling leisurely through the air, their russet color so much like a certain male that was mated to a certain girl he could never have.

Allow me to make one thing very clear. You are to stay away from her.

Unbidden, his brother's fury-driven words cut into his muddled thoughts. Azriel knew that he was old and cranky and Rhys didn't deserve his anger and resentment after what he went through for all of them, but he was... gods, he was so damn tired.

The first female outside of Mor who had caught his eyes -- of course she had to be denied from him. Cauldron knew that the Mother had never shone its light on him, not that he even deserved to be embraced by Her warmth.

His mind finally allowed him to remember the beautiful brunette always on the back of his mind. Her doe-like eyes, sweet smile and that alluring scent, so pure and innocent and arousing and --

Fuck.

Azriel adjusted himself, his pants stifling and uncomfortable. Shit. He was in deep shit. But he couldn't stop himself from fantasizing about how she would taste, how she would look when he made her come.

Rhys's words from the other day, during solstice so many months ago, hadn't helped. Azriel's desperate lust had only grown even more to the point that he was actively avoiding the second Archeron sister so she wouldn't scent his arousal.

For that matter, so his two brothers wouldn't catch him lusting after her especially after the warning he was given.

And she seemed to be avoiding him too.

Azriel made one more round in the skies, the night as chilly and familiar as his own shadows that seemed strangely subdued now. His thoughts continued to stray towards...

Elain.

Beautiful, clean, pure, worthy Elain. He was none of those things, he knew that. Had resigned himself to it after five centuries of futile pining for a female that never returned his desires. He did not blame Mor. Could not blame Mor. He was tainted and she deserved someone better than him.

But when he saw Elain... Their unlikely friendship had gradually turned into something more. It had only continued to develop after Elain was Made High Fae and he became even more attuned to her, constantly sharing the same space. And for the first time since Mor, he wanted. He wanted to have what his two brothers had. It was wrong and it was selfish, but he saw Rhys and Cassian and he wondered --

Maybe the Cauldron had made a mistake. Three sisters of blood and three brothers of choice. Two thirds fulfilled, and somewhere deep down inside, he had been uselessly, worthlessly holding onto hope.

He had not dared to whisper it out loud until Rhys caught him just before their kiss. And Rhys reaction had only served to remind him why he was wrong for her. Why Elain deserved someone else.

But for the first time in his life, he wanted to throw caution to the wind.

Deciding that all was well and not wanting to remain a second longer, Azriel gathered his shadows and prepared to winnow back to home. He frowned when his shadows flittered over him... disapprovingly?

Yes, that was disapproval. His lips tightened as they swirled around him angrily.

What the hell was wrong with them tonight?

Azriel yanked on his petulant shadows. They continued to ignore him, some even going as far as to ignore him.

He scowled. His shadows were stepping out of line more and more frequently as thought something was bothering him.

Or someone.

He shoved aside the image of tendrils dancing and singing around a certain redhead, her bright teal eyes laughing and --

Azriel forcibly winnowed and dragged his disobeying shadows after him, leaping across the miles between the Autumn Court and home within a single step, resigning himself to a lonely night -- as always.

~~~

The night was alive.

It was a comforting blanket draped over her, Gwyn mused silently.

But she felt dead.

It was going to be one of those nights, then. Those nights when she woke up screaming, drenched in sweat only to realize it was just another nightmare. That reality was like a noose tied around her neck, dragging her further down into the pits of Hell where she belonged.

She would never meet Catrin even in death. Because her lovely, beautiful sister who had shone like the brightest star was amongst the stars in the heavens. That single thought was the only thing pushing her forward on the worst of nights.

On nights where flinging herself out of a high balcony on the impossible chance that she would see Catrin again seemed possible. Gwyn had thought that that was before.

Before Nesta, before Emerie, before meeting her Valkyrie sisters whom she knew would and had walked with her through pain and darkness and led her back.

But even after so much training, nothing had changed. She was still the cowardly, timid, broken doll she thought she had left behind.

Gwyn sighed even as sadness and pain, always so much pain, swelled inside her. Logically she knew she wasn't thinking straight. If Nesta or Emerie were here, they would be chiding her for her thoughts, the former sharp but mindful, and the latter firm but gentle. A small smile came onto her faces at all the memories they shared.

The cutting of the ribbon. Winning the obstacle course that served as the Blood Rite Qualifier. And then winning the actual Blood Rite itself while Nesta -- unyielding, unflinching -- held the lines for Gwyn and Emerie to be crowned as Carynthians.

And now, Nesta and Cassian's mating ceremony. Despite everything she was feeling, Gwyn was happy for her friend.

Her sister by choice.

She knew Nesta deserved Cassian as he did her, and she felt genuine happiness for the pair. It was obvious during the long months of initial, grueling training that there was a spark between the two. An attraction that could not be denied.

She longed to find that love though in truth Gwyn knew she might never be ready for it.

Her point was further proven yesterday when Nesta had invited them during a break in training to her mating ceremony, held in a week's time. Gwyn knew that preparations were already underway and she was as honored and grateful as Emerie to be invited, but still she had hesitated, especially at the list of invited and accepted guests.

It wasn't mortifyingly long since Nesta only wanted close friends and family and Cassian only wanted the High Lord, Rhysand and Azriel, but the guest was filled with important names that made Gwyn nervous just to hear them.

The High Lord and High Lady were enough to make her dizzy. And then there was the High Lord's Second and Third, both formidable females in their own right. Gwyn thought wryly though that Emerie had seemed flustered and even blushed a little when her ears caught on a certain someone's name in the list Nesta had shared.

She was happy for her friend too. Emerie deserved friendship -- and love, if that relationship could blossom. But she knew better than interfere when her own relationships were so precarious.

The Prince of Adriata was coming, along with Mother above, the High Lord of the Day Court, Helion. Nesta's younger sister Elain was on the list as well though Nesta's face had clouded a bit when she read her name out loud. And then there was her mate -- Lucien Vanserra.

The supposedly exiled son of the High Lord of Autumn, who had ties to numerous Courts and was a valuable ally.

It was silly and stupid but amidst this sea of important names, Gwyn had wondered on more than one occasion what she could even do there. She had immediately scolded herself mentally, that she would be attending the ceremony for Nesta and even Cassian, who had become a bit of an older brother figure to her, and she would have Emerie with her.

She knew Emerie would fight anyone who dared to even look at her the wrong way.

But the larger part of Gwyn was scared. So many people would be attending, especially the males. It wasn't as if Helion or Lucien would randomly pounce on her, and that her fear was irrational, but she couldn't stop thinking about them. Couldn't stop thinking about that day where so many males surrounded her, where that hateful Hybern commander had ordered her held down, had pummeled into her as silent tears fell down her face, had laughed in her face and --

Gwyn counted the stars in the sky in time to her quickened breathing. Deep breaths, she told herself. When she couldn't sleep on nights like these she would train until nearly the breaking of dawn. She should get up from her position on the ground.

Probably.

But lying on the cold floor of the training area atop the House of Wind was a refreshing change. After having been coped up in the library for two years, she had finally decided to join Nesta in her morning training sessions with Cassian.

It was quite possibly the best decision she had ever made.

But still... But still, the doubt lingered. It festered. It thrived on her pain and self-hatred, quietly growing on nights like these.

It thrived at the fact that Emerie had accepted the invitation immediately, but Gwyn, worthless, selfish Gwyn had not. Was she so pathetic that she couldn't even congratulate her friend on her special day?

She should really get up. Perhaps train a bit more, instead of lying here wallowing in her dark thoughts.

Then a tiny tendril of shadow-kissed power gently prodded her arm. She startled, turning around and half-getting up.

She already knew who would be standing before her with his usual contemplative silence.

Azriel.

He was before her and she froze for one second. A twinge of fear crept in at his closeness, at the nearness of another male, so suddenly and unpredicted --

Azriel took a step back, saying softly, "I'm sorry if I surprised you."

Gwyn blinked. The shadowsinger was nothing but the epitome of manners and he had likely scented her fear.

"It's fine." And that was true. Her fear had instantly washed away as abruptly as it had arrived upon realizing who was here.

Azriel would never hurt her, Gwyn was sure of that.

She cleared her throat, trying to get rid of the awkward silence that had descended.

"Are you here for something?" She winced slightly at her choice of words. This was his home. She had no right to even utter such a question when she was the outsider.

Before Azriel could reply, another shadow darted out and wrapped itself around her arm before rushing back to its master. Gwyn felt the corners of her lips twitched up as the shadowsinger blinked once, twice in... shock.

"Did you forget your favorite dagger again?" She teased and was rewarded with a faint blush on his cheeks. His lovely and if she dared say, adorable shadows had given her the courage she needed.

To her surprise, he played along. "Have you seen an eighteen-inch dagger anywhere?"

Gwyn burst out laughing at the ridiculous statement.

"May I remind you that it's a dagger you have misplaced -- not a sword?"

"Forgive me if my memory fails sometimes." Was she seeing things or was there a twinkle in his eyes?

"Well, you do seem to forget things rather easily." Oh, she was certain! Amusement ran deep inside his hazel eyes and Gwyn felt breathless for a second, mesmerized by the beautiful male.

Staring into his eyes... She smiled at him, a genuine crinkling of her eyes. He had lifted her mood within seconds of his arrival.

Azriel seemed to freeze for a second, his usual stillness somehow magnifying. Intensifying. His shadows writhed around and she had the odd feeling that he was struggling to control them.

She blinked, and the moment passed.

"Were you training?" Azriel motioned towards her sweaty body. She nodded mutely, still caught up in what had occurred. Was it just her imagination? Looking at the stoic Illyrian standing before her, Gwyn decided she was just too tired, and her mind was playing tricks on her.

"...My help?"

Gwyn snapped out of her thoughts, head jerking up. "What?"

Azriel cocked an eyebrow at her obvious inattentiveness and she felt herself blushing. She chided herself mentally.

"Do you require my help?" He repeated the question, that faint amusement still dancing in his eyes.

"Wait. Are you asking to train me?" Another eyebrow raise.

"Were you expecting me to teach you the benefits of lying on the cold floor in the middle of the night?" He replied dryly.

Gwyn scowled and immediately stood up.

"Uh-huh. I was expecting you to fling your arms about and start serenading me."

"Is that a demand?" Azriel chuckled quietly. Gwyn thought that might be the most heavenly sound she had ever heard.

"Is that a challenge?" Gwyn shot back, not missing a beat.

The corners of his lips twitched up. Gwyn wanted to wipe that smirk off his face, her competitive streak setting in. She was also excited for this match because truth be told, she had been training everyday in anticipation of wiping the floor with the shadowsinger. It was her secret fantasy.

Not that it would happen anytime still but... Still.

"You can help me with my training. But on one condition."

Azriel contemplated her more seriously before he nodded his head.

"We fight now. Hand-to-hand."

~~~

The night was alive.

And Gwyneth Berdara was the full moon that accompanied it, shining brightly even amidst the darkness. She was so lovely, yet he sensed something pure and burning thriving inside her. His shadows yearned to flit around her, touch her, dance and sing for her. He had to keep them on a tight leash, and they were unhappy.

Little tendrils of darkness swirled around him petulantly. They wanted to go to Gwyn. Would have gone to her without his intervention. One stray thread snuck out and nearly coiled around Gwyn's wrist before he snatched it back in time. He could have sworn his own shadows growled at him. But he had bigger things to focus on.

Like the fact that Gwyn had just challenged Azriel to a duel.

Once again, his shadows had failed to mention that she was here. There was no quick escape that didn't end in awkwardness so he had stayed -- and so far he was... contented. Being around her seemed to have that effect on himself.

She was humming to herself as she stretched, preparing her body before their fight. His shadows buzzed around excitedly, seeming to forget about their earlier disagreement. He supposed there was no question who they were rooting for.

"Ready?" He asked Gwyn. She nodded, then held up a hand.

"Wait." She retied her ponytail, not letting even a single strand of her coppery chestnut obstructing her vision. He admired her competitiveness, her courage and strength in always fighting for the best.

Meeting her by chance here again reminded him of solstice, and his mind wandered to Elain before he slammed down his thoughts.

Focus. He had watched and trained Gwyn enough to know that she was a threat: an emerging dark horse that proved unpredictable and cunning. He also knew she had silently studied his fighting style enough to know more than just a few of his preferred tricks.

They circled each other, neither one of them making the first move.

He had drilled into her what signs to look out for, what feints and what blockings would be an unexpected yet effective counterattack that he was more than a little wary.

Still, he decided to make the first move, which was so out of his usual style that he hoped she would be unprepared. He had the feeling that she already knew he was going to attack first though as she sidestepped him and threw a punch.

Like he was expecting. He grabbed it and pulled her towards him to jilt her balance, but she was already expecting that and swept out her leg, forcing him to move unless he wanted to end up on the ground. The next move he had perfected to mastery.

He pretended to feint left when he was actually aiming for the left. A cheap shot, but he had also taught her that no real fights were clean and honest. She twisted her body but they both knew she wouldn't dodged in time.

At the last moment, his shadows decided to move and --

Capture his fucking hand. They wrapped themselves around him and his eyes widened as he was stopped mid-throw by his own shadows. The scenario would have been laughable if he wasn't in so much disbelief. They had never outright hindered him in any battles before.

He cursed, barely dodging the next kick Gwyn sent his way. They broke apart again and Gwyn asked, "Something wrong?" She glanced towards his wayward shadows and he had a strong feeling she knew.  

He shook his head, glaring at his swirling shadows. They just blinked up at him innocently.

Don't hurt her. Don't hurt her. Lovely mistress lovely mistress lovely mistress.

He gritted his teeth. Their fancy for Gwyn had reached the point of obsession but she didn't seem to mind. In fact, she squinted and then broke into a grin.

"Aha. I thought I saw your little friends earlier." At her words, his shadows flew towards her joyfully, happy to be recognized. Azriel rubbed his neck as his shadows neared Gwyn, knowing that she had to secretly hate them for being so ugly and tainted and unworthy --

Gwyn bent down. What she did next would stay in his memories forever. Holding out an arm, she let his shadows coiled around the entire length, wisps of midnight trailing her as she walked towards Azriel.

His shadows were happier than he had ever known them to be. He could feel their joy with every step she took, sense the way they were telling him to look look look look.

Then Gwyn smiled at him, her teal eyes so clear and large.

"Your shadows are beautiful."

~~~

"Your shadows are beautiful."

Azriel stood still. His entire body was frozen, and even his heart seemed to cease its beating.

Gwyn took a step back at whatever expression was on his face. What she said... Did she understand that what she said -- no one had ever deigned to voice before?

Did she look at his hideous soul and scarred hands?

Did she see how truly stained he was?

He wanted to believe she did. He had never wanted something more than Gwyn seeing him, truly seeing him be true. But if it were true...

How could his shadows be beautiful?

"I'm -- I'm sorry for stepping out of line." She stuttered out, her eyes wide.

Azriel glanced up sharply, snapped out of his trance. She looked horrified and was stammering out another apology, her pitch high and wobbly.

Shit.

Before he could process what he was saying, words tumbled out of his mouth, aided by the push of an impatient shadow desperate to right all things wrong.

"It is I who should be apologizing." His voice was a soft whisper in the night breeze. Gwyn paused halfway through her long speech and she stood there gaping at him.

"I am sorry, Gwyn." Azriel truly was. He could feel the shame gnawing at him. Yet another mistake. Yet another disappointment. He was a lowly half-breed bastard. His "little friends" curled around his tightening fists anxiously. He could not quite meet her eyes as chagrin dragged him down and whispered,"I should not have reacted the way I did."

He did not know what to expect. The infamous spymaster that was Azriel could never anticipate any of Gwyn's actions. She was an enigma, a mystery that constantly evaded him, the light at the end of the tunnel that shied away from him at every twist and turn.

He saw Gwyn take a deep breath from his peripheral vision and steeled himself. He gathered the remnants of his scattered mask, ready to return to just the High Lord's spymaster.

And then Gwyn spoke.

"I... I do not know your story. I do not know the dark tales that define your past. But I know you. And I know that whatever it is... It does not define you. It does not define the male I see standing before me. It cannot define the male who saved my very life, who --" Here her voice caught and she had to stop for a moment.

Azriel's heart clenched painfully. He did not know why but... He wanted to hug her and show her that her past had never defined her. Not for him, not for Nesta or Emerie and he wanted her to know that it shouldn't for herself.

"Who placed that cloak upon me with such gentle hands." She continued softly, gazing down at his scarred palms. And for the first time in a sea of forever, Azriel did not feel the urge to hide his shadow-kissed hands. Those same shadows began to swirl towards Gwyn and she did not flinch.

She only continued staring at him with those eyes that could see through everything. Did he want them to see through him? Yes.

She sees. And she is not afraid. Azriel's shadows basked them in a cocoon of living darkness.

"I refuse to let your past define you. I do not accept that. So fight. Your story... even if it never comes to me, there is nothing it can tell me that I don't already know. You are brave, thoughtful and so, so kind. You and Cassian trusted me to survive and conquer the Rite as you two had trusted Nesta and Emerie. If not then both of you would have stormed in immediately, and no law could have overruled you. So please... Please believe in me like you did. Just this once, if nothing else." Gwyn finished a little breathlessly and he knew she had rushed through the last part because she was nervous.

But somehow the bit that stuck out to him was her thinking he used to believe in her. He did, but used to? He still did. And he wanted her to know that, more than anything. He wanted Gwyn to know that he had never stop believing in her.

And seeing Gwyn's crestfallen face as each second passed and he still remained silently, he knew she was thinking the worst.

He wanted her smile back. His shadows wanted that too.

But more than anything, they both wanted her to sing again. And looking at her dispirited expression, at that moment even his shadows were unsure whether she would find her voice again.

She had spilled her thoughts to him, and he was standing there like an idiot.

Your words, Azriel. Use your words.

His shadows were begging him to say something. Anything, please please please.

As she turned to leave, he finally found his voice. The voice she unknowingly helped him find.

"Gwyn, I'm sorry -- please wait." She paused, hesitating as her eyes met his. Azriel did not know what to say. He was incapable of saying anything but "sorry", that word so pathetic and useless. Sorry was not enough when Rhys was captured by Amarantha. Sorry was not enough when Feyre was forced to sacrifice herself for their -- for his sake. Sorry was not enough when Elain was taken away by the Cauldron in the middle of the night.

Sorry had never been enough and never would be. Azriel was a stupid, foolish idiot.

"Azriel." Gwyn spoke his name softly. He tore himself away from his useless thoughts and looked at her.

She... did not look upset. She did not look angry, nor sad, nor frustrated. Instead, understanding lay in those warm teal eyes.

"I'm not pushing you to share about yourself. You are not obliged to just because I rambled on about my thoughts." Gwyn's eyes were indeed filled with apology and remorse though she had a small smile.

"You will always be my friend. And I will wait for you, even if the day you want to share about yourself never comes. Because I know you will do the same for me."

Somehow, in that moment when even time seemed to have held its breath, when even the Mother seemed to be watching, Azriel felt something in him shifted. In the distant, he could have sworn a phoenix's song filled his veins, a song of smothered flames and shadows.

"Besides, I think the silent, brooding type fits you better than Cassian's I-wrecked-one-tiny-unimportant-useless-building hotheadedness." Gwyn teased.

The distant calling seemed to grow louder, and Azriel could have sworn --

He could have sworn that a faraway glow beckoned him. And his shadows were more restless than ever, nearly tearing away from their master in their excitement.

So when Gwyn grinned at him, he smiled back.

The stars twinkling overhead seemed to beam back too. For the first time in a long while, Azriel felt contented. It was a feeling he had not experienced since... Since solstice. And back then he was with Gwyn, too, he realized abruptly. It was this female before him who had brought him not once, but twice such longed-for peace and quiet.

Gwyn was wrong. It was not his shadows who were beautiful.

It was her.

It was the Valkyrie who had walked beside Death -- and never cowered.

Never feared, never faltered.

Gwyneth Berdara was a secret, lovely beauty.

Sorry for any grammatical errors (or just errors in general) since I’m writing on my own right now. Thanks for reading and stay tune for part 2 <3

Updated comment: Hi guys, so I added a new bit about Azriel’s reaction. I was planning out the whole story so it’s taking a while and I’m sorry about the wait. I’m nearly done with planning things out chapter-by-chapter so part 2 is on its way. Thank you for staying with me 

xoxo

Dawn ~

[whomst-art-thou-whomst-whomst]

Texts from the Lost Tomb part 6.1

🎶 Back on the bullshit I never got off🎶

Is this another unnecessary story arc?? With three sections??

Yes.

Wushanju Crew Chat

Wang Meng: You know, I’m someone who appreciates consistency in my day. My life is pleasant, very few issues indeed if you ignore the big ones. And yet. Yet here we are. With unresolved messes at the end of a day.

Wang Pangzi: SOMETHIN YOU NEED TO SAY MARY POPPINS

Wang Meng: We need to talk about Huo Daofu and the glittery bead curtain.

Wang Pangzi: MY FAVE TEEN WIZARD SERIES

Wu Xie: did you turn on that suggested word thingy lol

What glittery bead curtain

Wang Meng: I closed the shop at 6:00pm this evening on the dot. I locked all of the doors in and out of the shop very carefully, especially in light of recent events. The hall leading to the back office was empty. I filed the day’s paperwork, updated and sent emails, and then spent an extra hour organizing receipts and dusting. When I came back out, there were glittery iridescent bead curtains over the front entrance to the shop.

What could this mean?

Wu Xie: uh that you need to spend less time at work?

Wang Pangzi: LOOKS LIKE WE GOT ONE FOR THE DETECTIVES. THE MYSTERY OF THE BEDAZZLED THRESHOLD COMMENCES

Wu Xie: I think we can be relatively secure in thinking a glittery bead curtain isn’t a hostile threat

Wang Pangzi: SAYS YOU

I REMEMBER YE OLDE EXPLORATION TIMES HOW FAST THINGS GOT FURIOUS

BEANBAG CHAIRS SET AFLAME AND LEFT ON DOORSTEPS AS A WARNING

GLITTERBOMBS FOR DAYS

PANIC AT THE DISCO

Wang Meng: Ugh, forget it. I should have just taken them down, regardless of who they belong to.

Zhang Qiling: They are not mine.

Wang Pangzi: A BOLD STATEMENT COMING FROM OUR PRIME SUSPECT

SOMEONE QUICK GO DRAW CHALK AROUND THE DOORWAY TO MARK THE SCENE OF THE CRIME

Wang Meng: Do we know anyone who *would* sneak in and put those up? For whatever reason, legal or not? Even as a joke?

Wang Pangzi: ARE YOU SERIOUSLY ASKING WHETHER WE KNOW ANYONE WHO IS CHAOTIC, AN OUTLAW, A PRANKSTER AND/OR SNEAKS INTO PLACES

BECAUSE THAT WOULD MEAN OUR SUSPECT LIST IS LITERALLY EVERYONE WE KNOW EXCEPT FOR YOU.

Wu Xie: okay let’s think about this; for starters, I didn’t break into my own shop

Wang Meng: You would be in danger of doing some work in the process, that’s true.

Wang Pangzi: LOL

Wu Xie: ANYWAY let’s keep going. For example, Xiao Ge would only break in somewhere for a good reason. Xiao Ge, did you do this?

Zhang Qiling: No.

Wu Xie: okay who’s next

Wang Pangzi: YOU REALLY MISSED YOUR CALLING IN INTERROGATION TIANZHEN

REALLY PUT THE SCREWS TO HIM

IN MORE WAYS THAN ONE;)

Zhang Qiling: How can we be certain *you* didn’t do it?

Wang Meng: Admittedly that was my guess, too.

Wang Pangzi: WOW I SEE HOW IT IS

BLAME PANGZI AS USUAL

ANYWAY HOW DOES HUO DAOFU FIT INTO THIS

Wu Xie: Oh yeah him! Oops I got distracted

Wang Pangzi: UR ENTIRE HISTORY IN A NUTSHELL

Wu Xie: Ugh fuck off

Wang Meng what abt Huo Daofu??

Zhang Qiling: ?

Wu Xie: oh sorry xiaoge I didn’t realize you wouldn’t have spent much time around him last year

He and I go way back

Zhang Qiling: Way back where?

Babysitters Club Chat

Wang Pangzi: I CANNOT BELIEVE HE IS BUYING YOUR INNOCENT ACT

IF YOU EVER TURN TO EVIL WE ARE FUCKED

Zhang Qiling: ?

Wang Pangzi: YOU KNOW EXACTLY WHO HUO DAOFU IS

YOU WERE EXTREMELY POLITE AND BORDERLINE FRIENDLY TOWARDS HIM

Zhang Qiling: I wanted him to feel welcome. I wanted to be sure he understands he has a place here. A specific place.

Wang Pangzi: FOR A SILENT GUY YOU ARE A MASTER AT SUBTLE POWER PLAYS IM ALL TINGLY

LMAO THE IDEA OF WU XIE LEAVING YOU FOR HUO DAOFU IS HILARIOUS AND ALSO NOPE

Zhang Qiling: Rationally, I understand that.

Main Chat

Wang Meng: Huo Daofu is coming for the weekend—didn’t Wu Xie tell you? Wu Xie asked me to check in a week ahead so we could start getting ready for his arrival

Wu Xie: oh yeah I did do that

Wang Meng: Fortunately I know you and so I already went ahead and took care of everything.

Re: the trip

He made a deal with Wu Xie’s doctor that he would do periodic checkups on him here at Wushanju

Bc Wu Xie hates being in the hospital

And frankly the hospital hates him too

Wang Pangzi: FAMILIARITY BREEDS CONTEMPT LOL

I FORGOT HUO DAOFU WAS DOING THAT

A VERY CHIVALROUS GESTURE

WOULDNT YOU SAY

XIOAGE

Zhang Qiling: Is it safe for him to be here with a criminal loose on the premises?

Wu Xie: Right, back to the curtain! Let’s focus on the curtain, hmm?

Wang Pangzi: I AM SO LOOKING FORWARD TO THIS WEEKEND.

ALSO WE CAN RULE OUT XIAO BAI FOR THE CURTAIN SHE JUST SENT A SELFIE FROM NORWAY COVERED IN GREEN SLIME WITH ZERO CONTEXT, UR PROTEGE INDEED

Wu Xie: okay but who else would do something so oddly charming yet illegal and—wait.

Snake Eyes Chat

Wu Xie: hey, Glasses hasn’t been in touch lately right?

Li Cu: uh nope

Unless u count the outdated memes

Why, is money or Xie Yuchen missing

Or is this curtain related, I saw Wang Meng’s tweet

Wu Xie: haha no nothing to worry about really

(I mean maybe? but who knows)

Wang Meng is probably just getting a little paranoid in his old age

Li Cu: better than getting reckless and stupid as hell in ur old age

Wu Xie: …hey:(

Unknown Number: Li Cu, we discussed this.

Wu Xie: ????????

Li Cu: *sigh* fine, reckless and stupid as heck

Unknown Number: …close enough.

Wu Xie: EXCUSE who is that

Madame, Sir, Non-Binary Tree Spirit, etc—whomst the fuck

Are you

Li Cu is underage FYI

So Im staying on this chat

Li Cu: okay first of all, it’s not like that

Second of all I’m literally not underage I s2g

u threw the embarrassing surprise bday party, okay so u should remember

And C, that’s my counselor and I invited her. She wanted to meet u and I knew u wouldn’t agree to a visit so I added her to our chat

we have been discussing u

Wu Xie: Oh wow!!!!!!!

What a surprise:)

hi so nice to meet you:)

Main Chat:

Wu Xie: RED FUCKING ALERT

FUCK THE CURTAIN FUCK THE VISIT

IVE BEEN TRICKED INTO FAMILY THERAPY BY A SMUG TEENAGER WHO TEXTS UNKNOWN NUMBERS

Wang Meng: I assume that means something to someone here?

Not my problem? Good.

Wang Pangzi: AHAHAHA GOD I LOVE LI CU

HES LIKE ADORABLE KARMA FOR ALL THE SHIT YOUVE PUT ME THROUGH

IM RAISING HIS ALLOWANCE

Wu Xie: wait i give him an allowance

has he been collecting on two allowances??

Zhang Qiling: Three. I knew about both of yours.

Snake Eyes Chat

Wu Xie: so uh may I ask your name?

Unknown Number: you can call me Ms. Lee.

Now, if you’re comfortable talking in this format, why don’t you tell me how things have been going?

Wu Xie: oh everything is normal and fine and safe as usual, why do you ask:)

Li Cu: I heard about ur necklace thing. nice of you to NOT mention it.

another dangerous adventure. again. prick.

Ur lucky your cool boyfriend cares about you so much or you’d have already died like ten years ago

Wu Xie: lol try twenty years ago

Li Cu: That isn’t funny.

Unknown Number: …What?

Wu Xie: shit ur right, okay that was a bit glib, my apologies.

…I use humor as a coping mechanism?

Unknown Number: and Li Cu, how do you feel about that?

Li Cu: he doesn’t even know what that phrase means

He doesn’t cope, like ever

In fact

It’s kind of why we met

Which is a funny story in retrospect tbh

Wu Xie: haha what are you talking about sweetie hahaha need I remind you of certain anecdotes that could idk send me to jail maybe lmao

Unknown Number: …You know, perhaps an in-person meeting might be more effective?

Wu Xie: haha such a nice idea but why

Main Chat

Wu Xie: If I go to jail, I’ll have to create alliances for protection, right, that’s how it works on tv

Who do we know who spends time in jail

Other than Hei Yangjing, he’s only ever there for like 12 hours and i suspect he just gets himself arrested bc he enjoys the breaking out process

Also how’s the curtain case coming along

Zhang Qiling: Has someone threatened you?

Wu Xie: well not yet but soon I’m sure

Wang Pangzi: WHERE WAS THIS PARANOIA WHEN WE GOT TAKEN TO THE TEA HOUSE HUH

Snake Eyes Minus Your Fucking Therapist Chat

Li Cu: okay how tf did u pull off spy and undercover shit

u are sus as hell

Wu Xie: damn son is it pick on Wu Xie night

I missed the flyers or I would’ve invited my uncles

Also re: the curtain it’s been mostly solved

Li Cu: I’m not your son, idiot.

Wu Xie: …oh. Sorry, sorry, you’re right, bad choice of words, haha

Forget i said anything

Delete this chat even

Li Cu: shit I meant

Legally, biologically, I meant—

shit

…I turn into an asshole as a coping mechanism?

Wu Xie: oh that’s all okay! I have to go do something else now let me know if you need anything okay kid thanks!

Li Cu: goddamn it calm down who’s the kid here

lemme organize my thoughts so I can articulate my emotions fuckin healthily or w/e

Ugh maybe for like one afternoon we could go to Ms. Lee together? She knows how to word stuff

Wu Xie: uh…okay.

Li Cu: Anyway you don’t need to worry abt jail

As if you would survive prison for one day you’d piss off half the place in like an hour or less

I gave Ms. Lee the heavily edited version of the desert highway to hell roadtrip and i discussed it more in terms of like “nightmarish but still wouldn’t take any of it back”

Well maybe the sand

that shit was everywhere

Wu Xie: oh kiddo. It’s fine, really…You don’t have to explain yourself to me.

Li Cu: no, no it’s just

I do technically have a dad

who is an asshole. Being a son doesn’t really mean shit to me bc it sucked.

So you need to stop backing down just cuz ur guilty abt stuff. I’m really really glad ur not my dad in a good way. Do u get what I mean there

Where’s the mafia widower I followed into hell, huh

Wu Xie: Ur a good kid, despite my influence. I’m really glad you have someone to talk to after everything I…after everything. Wow this talking through feelings thing is kind of weird but nice ur right

Jfc no wonder it took me and xiaoge so long to—you know what, we won’t get into that

Li Cu: ew tmi

Also re: this week’s recent necklace fuckery

I moved my stuff here, I live here now

So you can’t die anymore

Or else…Idk I don’t have a threat planned

anyways abt the curtain

Wu Xie: oh my god, kid…kid you have no idea

I am in tears.

Li Cu: see this is why I can’t be nice to you I can sense the hallmark channel from here

Ugh don’t be sad in ur room that’s dumb

Go hug Pangzi or something

Maybe delete this chat

Or the curtain thing

Focus on the curtain thing

Just stfu and go away

Wu Xie: <3 screenshotting this <3

Li Cu: I take back everything I said. This is why Xiao Ge sleeps on the roof. I hope the ghosts of the Wangs put up that curtain to strangle you somehow. Go die in a stupid way, it’ll suit you.

Wu Xie: lol don’t worry I’m not gonna embarrass you with it or anything

Main Chat

Wu Xie: omg guys look how cute my kid is *sending screenshot*

Wang Pangzi: I MEAN

HE IS WISHING YOU DEATH

BUT SURE

CUTE I GUESS

Wu Xie: no but read the whole thing:):):)

Zhang Qiling: It is indeed very hard to remain angry with you. And you are welcome to join me on the roof.

Wang Pangzi: UH NOPE

NOT WHENI HAD TO BLEACH THE COUNTER IN THE KITCHEN

DONT TRAUMATIZE THE EARLY BIRDS THEYRE ALREADY FREAKED OUT BY U YA HOODIE CRYPTID

Wu Xie: ok true but babe ur like a sexy cryptid

Wang Meng: so, are we just accepting that there is a glittery curtain of unknown origin, and Huo Daofu is going to have to see it while he’s waiting for you at Wushanju bc you’re going to family therapy?

Wu Xie: right

Wang Pangzi: SHOULDA TAKEN EARLY RETIREMENT HUH

Wang Meng: I’m going to go dust something.

Unnamed Chat:

Unknown number: so the curtain…

Unknown number 2: yep, not my best work but I kinda panicked last minute u know

Unknown number: what is in the water at Wushanju that makes everyone dumb and attractive

Unknown number 2: relax they’ll figure it out

[bloody-bee-tea]

BeeTober 2020 Day 17

Moon - Falling

Day 17 of BeeTober 2020 has some more Mingcheng in store, this time in a modern au where NHS and NMJ made a pact that comes back to bite them both in the ass now.

Nie Mingjue is acutely aware that he can’t tear his eyes away from Jiang Cheng.

It’s not a problem—at least at the moment—because Jiang Cheng is accepting an award for being the youngest, most successful CEO in the last ten or so years, and he’s giving a speech.

Everyone’s eyes are on him, so it’s not too noticeable that Nie Mingjue cannot look away.

But how is Nie Mingjue supposed to look away, when the gods gifted Jiang Cheng with a face structure like that, and piercing eyes, and a soothing voice and the most precious smile.

Not even to mention how his entire beauty only seems enhanced with how the light of the moon hits him just so.

No, Nie Mingjue never stood a chance, he realizes now.

Jiang Cheng isn’t completely done with his speech when Nie Mingjue forces himself to turn away and leaves in search of the bar. Maybe some alcohol will solve his problem.

He just ordered something strong, when Jiang Cheng appears next to him.

“Not enjoying my speech?” Jiang Cheng asks, putting his award on the bar as he motions for the bartender.

“No offense, but it’s all the same blah blah,” Nie Mingjue gives back and toasts Jiang Cheng when he smiles. “To your award.”

“I got this,” Jiang Cheng says with a frown and nods towards the statue, “because I brought the company to heights it has never been at before. It wasn’t that hard with how my father ran it into the ground before me.”

Nie Mingjue very forcefully puts his glass down again and fully turns towards Jiang Cheng.

He has known him for almost all of Jiang Cheng’s life, because he and Nie Huaisang are best friends, and it always rubbed Nie Mingjue the wrong way, how Jiang Cheng continues to put himself down, time and time again.

And maybe it’s time he says something about it.

“Bullshit,” Nie Mingjue says and Jiang Cheng turns wide eyes on him. “Even if your father managed to almost ruin the company, you still saved it. And even more than that; it’s one of the most successful in the city today. Not everyone could have done this and you deserve this award and so much more,” Nie Mingjue tells him and when Jiang Cheng slightly blushes at his words, Nie Mingjue turns back to his drink.

“Thank you,” Jiang Cheng says and gently brushes their shoulders together. “I don’t think anyone stated it this clearly before.”

“Yeah, well, they should have. You have done well, Wanyin, and you can be proud of what you achieved.”

“Are you?” Jiang Cheng asks and immediately afterwards he grimaces as if he didn’t mean to say it.

“Proud of you?” Nie Mingjue wants to know and he doesn’t wait until Jiang Cheng nods. “Of course I am. I still remember the too angry boy that would grumble on our couch when Huaisang was too enthusiastic about something and it’s a real joy to see you grow up into a too angry man that can whip even the worst company into shape,” Nie Mingjue tells him with a wink and Jiang Cheng blushes again.

“Childhood friends are the worst,” Jiang Cheng grumbles under his breath, only proving Nie Mingjue right and when warmth floods Nie Mingjue’s chest, he wonders how he never before noticed that he was falling in love with the young man.

“Nah, you love us all,” Nie Mingjue gives back and then promptly swallows the rest of his drink before he turns away. “I have to go, mingle some more, or Huaisang might actually kill me,” Nie Mingjue says with a groan and Jiang Cheng laughs.

Nie Mingjue never realized just how much he loved hearing that sound before.

“And he might just succeed, too,” Jiang Cheng playfully says and let’s Nie Mingjue go without another word.

Once he’s a very safe distance away, Nie Mingjue takes a deep breath. Normally, he’s a very straight forward kind of guy. If he’s interested in someone he tells them, and then they can figure out where to go from there.

But he can’t with Jiang Cheng, because he and Nie Huaisang made a pact when Nie Huaisang was still small, and Nie Mingjue promised to honour that pact.

And that means Jiang Cheng is off limits.

~*~*~

Nie Mingjue lets himself into Lan Xichen’s apartment and when he finds him on the couch, he promptly flops down there as well, neatly placing his head in Lan Xichen’s lap.

“Huaisang is going to kill me,” Nie Mingjue says even before Lan Xichen can ask what’s going on and he sighs when Lan Xichen starts to undo the braids in his hair.

“You’re redoing them,” Nie Mingjue grumbles, but he melts when Lan Xichen’s nails scratch his scalp.

“Of course I am,” Lan Xichen easily agrees. “Why is A-Sang going to kill you?”

“I’m in love with Jiang Cheng,” Nie Mingjue comes straight to the point and makes an unhappy noise when Lan Xichen’s fingers freeze.

“I don’t see why he’d kill you for that,” Lan Xichen eventually says as he picks up where he left off again. “They are best friends, right? Shouldn’t A-Sang be happy about this?”

“It’s because they are best friends that he’s going to kill me,” Nie Mingjue groans and then slightly shakes his head. “Fuck, I can’t believe I fell for Huaisang’s childhood friend.”

“Well, Jiang Cheng is a very admirable person,” Lan Xichen offers and Nie Mingjue looks up at him.

“Admirable? That’s the understatement of the year. He turned out so well, and I don’t just mean that in terms of looks. His family life is shit, we all know that with how his parents continue to drag everything into the spotlight, and yet he’s one of the best friends anyone could wish for their younger brothers.”

“He’s also the best brother anyone could wish for, if you believe Wei Wuxian and Jiang Yanli.”

“And have you seen him with his nephew?” Nie Mingjue asks and now in retrospect it’s really embarrassing that it took him so long to notice that he’s in love with Jiang Cheng.

“I did,” Lan Xichen says with a smile and flicks Nie Mingjue’s forehead. “You’re really in deep, huh?”

“Fuck,” Nie Mingjue says and presses the heels of his hands to his eyes. “And it’s not helping that he still comes over all the time. He spends almost as much time on my couch than he did when he was younger, even though I know he has his own apartment by now.”

“And that’s a problem?”

“It is, when he’s working from our couch, because I was not ready to hear him decimate old man Yao on the phone.”

“Uh, I sense a kink,” Lan Xichen teases him and Nie Mingjue can feel himself flush.

He’s normally not that shy, but it’s Jiang Cheng. It’s his baby brother’s best friend. This really is a goddamn problem.

“Never say that again,” Nie Mingjue begs, even though Lan Xichen is probably right and Lan Xichen laughs at him.

“Now, all of this still doesn’t tell me why A-Sang is going to kill you for this.”

“We made a pact when he was about seven, maybe?” Nie Mingjue starts and Lan Xichen makes an encouraging sound. “We promised each other that no matter what happens our friends are off limits for any romantic or sexual relationships,” Nie Mingjue explains and this time when Lan Xichen freezes Nie Mingjue frowns up at him.

“You think that’s strange, right?” Nie Mingjue asks, because of course he would.

Nie Huaisang was really small when they made that pact; small enough that he shouldn’t even worry about something like that at that age, but Nie Mingjue has never questioned it. Nie Huaisang has always been a bit odd to everyone. Only Nie Mingjue never minded his brother’s rather odd thoughts and requests.

“I—yeah,” Lan Xichen finally gets out, and he sounds strangled enough that Nie Mingjue sits up, his hair tumbling all over his chest.

“What’s wrong?” Nie Mingjue wants to know and Lan Xichen can’t meet his eyes before he starts to laugh.

“You really don’t have to worry about A-Sang killing you,” Lan Xichen says then and immediately sobers up. “But please promise me that you won’t kill me.”

“Why should I kill you?” Nie Mingjue asks, but he doesn’t like where this is going, not at all.

“Because maybe A-Sang and I have been seeing each other?” Lan Xichen asks as if he needs to test those words out first and Nie Mingjue springs up.

“What?” he roars because how dare Lan Xichen corrupt his precious younger brother.

“Mingjue, breathe,” Lan Xichen says and Nie Mingjue takes one gulping breath and then a second, and a third.

“I’m calm,” he finally says and it’s not even a lie.

Nie Huaisang is twenty-five now, Nie Mingjue reminds himself. He is old enough to make his own decisions, and really, if Nie Mingjue had to choose a boyfriend for him, Lan Xichen would not be a bad choice at all.

It’s just that—

“That little demon,” Nie Mingjue grumbles. “And here I worry about breaking our pact while he snogs face with my best friend.”

“Please, don’t call it that,” Lan Xichen says with a grimace. “We kissed twice. Really, we’re still seeing where this is going.”

“I do not want to hear that you kissed my baby brother,” Nie Mingjue says and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Unbelievable.”

“Actually, if you want to yell at him in person,” Lan Xichen starts and just at that moment, a key turns in the door.

“Is that him?” Nie Mingjue asks and Lan Xichen nods.

“Xichen!” Nie Huaisang calls out and he sounds way too happy for Nie Mingjue’s taste.

“Huaisang!” he bellows and feels a lot better when he’s met with a surprised squeak.

Time to show Nie Huaisang that Nie Mingjue is still his big brother.

~*~*~

Nie Mingjue refuses to be nervous as he knocks at Jiang Cheng’s door.

If Nie Huaisang managed to bag Lan Xichen who he knew since he was waddling around in pampers, then Nie Mingjue can damn well do the same with Jiang Cheng.

Especially since he is not the first to break their pact and therefore doesn’t have to feel guilty at all.

“Mingjue,” Jiang Cheng says, sounding surprised when he finally opens the door and Nie Mingjue realizes that he can count on one hand the times he has been to Jiang Cheng’s apartment, while Jiang Cheng has a key to his own.

“Is something wrong?” Jiang Cheng asks when Nie Mingjue simply continues to stare at him, but Nie Mingjue can’t help himself.

He’s allowed to stare without guilt now, at least regarding Nie Huaisang and their promise.

“No,” Nie Mingjue says. “Can I come in?”

“Of course,” Jiang Cheng immediately says and steps to the side to let Nie Mingjue in. “Do you want anything to drink?” Jiang Cheng asks him, leaving for the kitchen but Nie Mingjue shakes his head.

“No, thank you,” he politely says and immediately feels uncomfortable.

He should have waited until Jiang Cheng came over the next time; it would have felt much more natural than this.

“Okay, I’m not going to lie, you’re worrying me,” Jiang Cheng says, when he comes back from the kitchen empty handed. “You don’t usually come here.”

“But you usually come to my place,” Nie Mingjue says without thinking and he startles when he sees the hurt frown on Jiang Cheng’s face.

“Should I not?” he carefully asks and Nie Mingjue rubs a hand over his face.

Usually, this is so much easier. He wonders what it is about Jiang Cheng that turns him into a fumbling fool.

“You’re always welcome, you know that,” Nie Mingjue reassures him and then sits down on the couch without waiting for permission. “I’m here because of a pact I have with Huaisang.”

“Okay?” Jiang Cheng asks and sits down on the couch next to Nie Mingjue. “What pact?”

“We’re not allowed to date the friends of our brother,” Nie Mingjue explains and rolls his eyes when Jiang Cheng has to hide a smirk. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, I know he’s dating Xichen.”

“Good,” Jiang Cheng says, amusement colouring his voice. “I would have hated to be the one to break the news to you.”

“Whatever,” Nie Mingjue grumbles and then straightens up again. “But that’s the point actually. He already broke the pact, so there’s no reason for me to honour it anymore.”

“The pact of not dating your brother’s friends,” Jiang Cheng mutters and he blushes bright red when he connects the dots. “And you’re here,” he finishes weakly and Nie Mingjue can’t stop himself from reaching out and cupping his cheek in his hand.

“And I’m here,” Nie Mingjue agrees and his heart beats faster when Jiang Cheng nuzzles into his hand.

“Because you want to date your brother’s best friend.”

“Because I’ve realized I’ve been in love with my brother’s best friend for a while now,” Nie Mingjue agrees and watches fondly as a smile slowly overtakes Jiang Cheng’s face.

“And here I thought all of my flirting was for nothing,” he says and Nie Mingjue laughs.

“Oh no, believe me, your flirting has been received very well,” Nie Mingjue promises him and gently pulls him close. “So this is okay?” he asks, because for all that Jiang Cheng has been flirting, he might still find it weird to kiss his best friend’s older brother.

“More than,” Jiang Cheng promises and closes the distance between them.

Nie Mingjue never knew that broken promises could taste this sweet.

Link to my ko-fi on the sidebar!

[lesbian-peanut-writer]

Please Boss?

Day 5? I almost lost track of what day it was today... Anyways, here is the fic for day 5. Now, I will give you all some fair warning; this Eijiro is out of character because lets face it, Mafia Ei isn’t going to be sweet. Please make sure you read the warnings that i slap on this story, I don’t want to cop and shit from people who didn’t read the warnings...

@ikinabi​ here’s your man, come grab him while he’s not being sweet.

@rinarecommends​, you seemed pretty excited when I said I was writing for Eijiro in the Mafia au, so here you go.

~Lesbain Peanut

Word Count: 4663

Content Warning: Contains DubCon and darker themes

“Please Sir, I’m sorry…” Your voice cracked as your body shook involuntarily, tears stinging your eyes as you stepped backwards. “I didn’t want to do this, please forgive me Sir.”

“Forgive you? Give me one damn good reason as to why I should even entertain the thought of forgiving you.” The voice that sounded from the deep darkness of the room was cold and malicious, the man behind it even more so.

Fear, no terror gripped your chest, suffocating your lungs as you stared over into the darkness and red eyes shone back at you. They appeared as though they were two beacons set within the night but you knew better than to expect those beacons to deliver you safely or offer leniency. This man had never been known for his mercy, he ruled the Mafia with an iron fist and crossing him was basically like signing your own death warrant. You were currently on the verge of a death warrant, but that is the sort of thing that happens when you slight ‘The King’.

You found this entire situation to be nothing but unfair, it shouldn’t have been you in this room; it shouldn’t have been you facing this terrifying man. Dedicating labour to the family you had served for years now and this was how they repaid your loyalty, by throwing you to the wolves or more accurately; the dragon! They had forced you to take the place of their only daughter, the woman who was supposed to give herself to the Mafia Boss; the one who had been promised as his future wife. Her not you!

“I’ll do anything, please?” You begged, your legs caving in beneath you and your arse met with the cold hard floor. “Anything you ask, I’ll do it for you.” You guess it was true what they say, people really will do anything to avoid death when presented with the opportunity.

“Pathetic.” His tone was harsh as he sneered out his painfully obvious disgust at your pitiful pleas for your life to be spared. “Had I wanted a rat within my family, I’d have bought one as a pet. At least then when I was done with it and its uses were no longer there, I could give it one final use in life before feeding it to the snake.” Words that almost sounded like a growl abused your ears, the analogy not lost on you as his threat was aired; you were the rat and he was the snake.

“Please, I’m so sorry…”

“Enough!” That singular word boomed across the room, it felt as though it had shaken your brain loose in the process and caused your teeth to rattle. “I don’t want to hear any more of your putrid apologies, I don’t even want to hear the sounds of your pitiful whimpering.” The sound of material shifting and feet sliding over the floorboards reached your ears, your heart rate quickening in response. “Do they take me for a fool? Did they think that I wouldn’t find out what they had been planning all along? WHO THE FUCK DO THEY THINK I AM?!” His voice grew louder and angrier with each question he shot towards you, the sound of his fist hitting something caused you to flinch; a whimper slipping from your lips.

You shook violently as you cowered on the floor, unable to bring yourself to move anymore or even reply to any of his questions. The silence in the room grew, the sense of death looming overhead as his eyes never left yours. You had never seen the man sitting across from you in the darkness, but you had heard more than your fair share of stories and none of them had a happy ending for those involved. Breathe, you needed to breathe but you couldn’t; the air in your lungs had caught in place as you watched those red gems rise into the air. Holy mother of fuck, how god damn tall was this freaking monster?!

“Mouse… rat isn’t a fitting term for you. A rat would at least have the sense to fight or flee, you on the other hand are just like a mouse; frozen in place once cornered by its hunter.” His voice grew louder as he walked towards you, his footsteps silent against the floor and that only served to pile on the terror; unsure if your nerves could handle much more. “A poor, pathetic little mouse thrown into the Dragon’s Den and this is where you will meet your end.”

“Please… I don’t want to die…” You whimpered as your voice trembled, finally managing to remember how to breathe. The man snorted the closer he got to you and you instinctively dropped your head, too afraid to look up at this monster of a man.

“Who the fuck said you could lower your head?” He growled as he came to a stop before you, the ink on his skin the first thing you noticed as he stood there barefoot. “Lift your head and look into my eyes or are you that much of a damn coward?”

Your shoulders stiffened as you took in his words, there was an underlying message hidden in them. He wasn’t just ordering you to lift your head or to look up at him, he was challenging your courage in that moment; seeing if you had what it took to do as he demanded. You swallowed back the saliva that had built up in your mouth, closing your eyes as you took a deep breath and tilted your head back cautiously. Your fingers shook anxiously as you twisted the hem of your dress violently, your heart loud in your ears as you tried desperately not to throw up. Ink and a lot of ink was the first thing you noticed as you cracked your eyes open, your breath catching in your throat at the sight that greeted you.

“Not as much a coward as I thought, I see.”

You flicked your eyes up to his face, heat flooding your cheeks as your hands stilled on your dress. Eijiro Kirishima, the man who was a King and the man who held your life in the palms of his hands; literally. How the fuck was it fair for a man who could instil so much terror in someone’s heart, to be that god damn hot? He was tall, easily more than six foot and it had your stomach doing somersaults. His long black hair was loose, framing his face and his chiselled jawline was jutted out as he dipped his head towards you. Those ruby eyes that had been watching you from across the room, now too close, were narrowed in concentration as he took in your every fibre. He was covered in ink, a little too much if you were being honest; just how much of his skin was covered in it? You trailed your eyes down over his body, saliva pooling in your mouth as you caught sight of that dark hair starting at his navel and trailing down his; HOLY FUCK!

Naked, very fucking naked!

You were pretty sure you weren’t supposed to be feeling the way you were feeling, it wasn’t normal to feel horny while being so damn terrified. You mean, never had you thought that you of all people would get the chance to see Eijiro’s dick; not in a million years. Yet, there it was right before your eyes and it was something for him to be proud of that was for sure. Heat had flooded your cheeks, unable to tear your eyes away from his dick. Despite the heat flooding your face, your skin felt cold and goosebumps formed over your arms. This was dangerous, being this close to him and seeing him like this; you were certain you were going to die now.

Eijiro scrutinised you as he stood there, a smirk pulling at his lips as he reached out a hand. His fingers laced into your hair, twisting it before pulling on it harshly as he threw your head back hard. “Something you can see that you desire?” He ventured, pulling on your hair harder and drawing a whimper from you.

You shook your head violently, wincing as your scalp protested at having your hair pulled about like that. There was no way you were about to tell this man he had you wanting to jump his bones, especially not when he was pissed with you. “N-no… n-nothing. Why would there be something I desire, I’d never even think about doing anything with you.” You babbled, squirming as you reached a hand up for his tangled in your hair.

The snort that sounded from over your head was accompanied by a hard tug of your hair, your head jolting forwards and bringing you closer to his dick. Eijiro smirked as a deep chuckle started in his chest. “What was it you said little mouse?” His voice was calm and steady as he teased, prompting you to think over your conversation.

Your brain stalled as your body locked up, you could wager a guess as to what he was talking about but there was a part of you that didn’t want to repeat it. Your lungs burned as you held your breath, the ability to voice your thoughts no longer something you had. He couldn’t be serious could he, this man wouldn’t actually ask that sort of thing from you, would he? A squeal peeled from your throat as you were pulled forwards, your entire body shifting with the force and you were left with no choice but to grasp at his thighs for stability. You had your answer, yes; he would!

“Anything I ask, you will do for me…” A violent shudder ran down your spine at his words, your eyes flicking up as you peeked up at him. “One should learn to be careful with the words they say to others, some people hold words as a binding force. I’m one of those people, your words are your life and you said anything.” Your stomach twisted at Eijiro’s words as a sickening grin spread over his face and he pulled your head forwards.

Warmth spread over your lips as Eijiro pressed the head of his dick against them, beads of pre-cum seeping from the slit and over your bottom lip. You swallowed down the fear that was clawing its way up your throat in the form of a scream, the last thing you wanted to do was get yourself in further trouble. Your eyes shifted down to take in his dick, veins were already throbbing along the surface of it and he was thick.

“You are going to be a good little mouse for me now, you’re going to do as you’re told.” Eijiro commanded as he gave a harsh tug to your hair, a whimper pushing past your lips. “Open those beautiful lips of yours and stick out your tongue for me.”

Your bottom lip trembled as you parted your lips and pushed your tongue out cautiously. You were scared but there was a sense of curiosity in you as you inched your tongue forwards, closing your eyes in an attempt to settle your panicked heart. Heat met with the tip of your tongue as it pressed against the smooth skin of Eijiro’s dick, rolling your tongue over the head and collecting his pre-cum. It was salty against your tongue, a flavour you hadn’t tasted in a while and honestly you were glad to be tasting it again.

“That’s a good little mouse.” Eijiro praised as he pulled on your hair, less strength behind the motion than there had been before. “Open wider!” He ordered, his other hand coming down and tangling into the hair at the back of your head.

You blinked as you looked up at him, your tongue pressed against the slit of his dick as you stopped his semen from leaking out. “Wider?” you inquired as you tilted your head to the side in a questioning manner.

Eijiro smirked wickedly as he tightened his grip in your hair, his eyes shining with a glint of wickedness as he stepped in closer to you. “Wider.” There was no arguing with this man, you parted your lips and opened your mouth wide for him.

His hands tightened further into your hair, to the point tears were stinging at your eyes and the pain was intense. Your eyes popped wide as he pulled your head forwards, his hands in your hair giving him that extra leverage over you as he thrust his hips forwards. Your throat constricted momentarily before relaxing as his dick slid down the back of your throat, grateful for the fact you didn’t have a gag reflex. Skin broke beneath your nails as you dug them into his thighs, making sure to keep yourself steady as he thrust his hips roughly. Your nostrils flared as you drew in breath, knowing full well it would be your only way of breathing for a while.

Eijiro groaned as his dick was enveloped by the heat of your mouth, your throat tight around him as he thrust his hips roughly. It had been a while since he had last fucked someone and here you were with that pretty little mouth of yours, completely at his disposal until he decided what to do with you. He smirked dangerously as he tightened his hand at the back of your hair and pushed your head forward fully, satisfied when he felt your nose press against his skin. Eijiro looked down at you, laughing darkly as he sheathed his dick completely in the heat of your mouth.

You whimpered around his dick as you tried to pull your head back, your nose was pressed against his happy trail and you couldn’t breathe. Your brow creased as he laughed above you, holding your head against his body and not allowing you to move. A loud crack filled the room as your hand came down against his thigh, a solid slap making contact with his skin as you glared up at him.; unimpressed with his actions. Eijiro blinked as he took in what you had done and his eyebrow shot up before he pulled his hips back tantalisingly slow. You breathed in quickly, your nostrils flaring as you tried to take in as much air as you could.

“Feisty now, aren’t you little Mouse?” He chortled as he pulled roughly on your hair and yanked your head back off his dick. “Get some good lungs full of air while you can, once I put my dick back in it's not coming back out until I’m done!” He growled in warning; a promise you knew he would keep no matter what.

“Fine…” You choked as you wiped at your mouth, breathing in deep full breaths as he had suggested you do before he changed his whimsical mind.

He watched you closely as he stood there, waiting for you to get enough air to be satisfied. There was a stinging in his thigh and he moved his hand to rub at the spot where you had taken it upon yourself to slap him. Eijiro wasn’t sure whether you were just stupid or if in that moment you had actually been brave enough to lay your hands on him. His eye twitched as he pressed his hand against his thigh, annoyed with the fact you were becoming a mystery to him the more time he spent with you.

“That should be enough, open your mouth mouse!” Eijiro commanded as he tangled his hands back into your hair roughly.

“(Name)…”

“What?”

“It’s my name, why don’t you try using it you stupid Dragon.” You spat up at him as your eyes narrowed, annoyed by the pain that was coursing through your head from his rough treatment of your hair.

“Open!”

You dared not push it any further than you already had and once again, you dropped your jaw open for him. You closed your eyes as he pulled your head forward, his dick sliding right down the back of your throat and he picked up where he’d left off. Your nails dug back into his thighs as you shifted your legs under yourself, preventing pins and needles from setting into your extremities. The last thing you wanted to have to deal with right now was pain in your legs because this asshole couldn’t find somewhere better to satisfy himself.

You felt your hair go slack after a while, his grip loosening as his hips moved at a brutal pace and he fucked your throat. Shock came over you as a moan sounded around his dick and your eyes popped wide. The laughter from above let you know that Eijiro had heard your moan and it seemed to spur him on as his pace quickened. Moans continued to slip past your lips as your throat was fucked, his dick constantly sliding into your mouth fully. Your pussy clenched tight and your hips rolled forwards involuntarily, you hated your body for betraying you like it was.

“Look who’s enjoying the rough treatment.” Eijiro laughed maliciously as he thrust his hips harder, the hand from the back of your head shifting around to press against your throat firmly. “Maybe you’d enjoy it if I choked you out, left you gasping for air and crying in a pool of your own fluids.” Your pussy clenched tighter at his words, the vision of him looming over you as he choked you out forming in your brain and setting your body on fire. Holy fuck, that was an imagine you had never thought you’d need let alone be blessed with.

You moaned low around his dick as you moved one of your hands, dipping it below his dick and smiling as you traced your fingers over his balls. Eijiro groaned above you as his hips stuttered, his rhythm broken at the unexpected contact from you. You heard him curse above you before he moved his hips, thrusting his dick further down your throat. You felt it the moment his thumb pressed tighter against your throat, in addition with his dick down your throat there was nothing you could do. Your throat constricted around his dick as you tried desperately to breathe, your nose no longer helpful with your airway black off from both sides. Your head started to spin and your eyes rolled back into your head.

The pressure was gone and you took your chance to breathe in through your nose, your eyes focusing back on the man above you. The wicked smirk plastered over his face was sickening, yet there was a twisted sense of pleasure you found in that sinister look. You flexed your fingers before groping his balls, rubbing them roughly and squeezing them until you heard his groan of pleasure. Satisfied with his reaction, you continued to play with his balls; teasing the spot between them and his dick.

Eijiro groaned as his hips jerked forth, thrusting his hips roughly as he tightened his hand in your hair. Maybe fucking you like this was a bad idea, seems like he might have awakened something freaky in you. He couldn’t stop the smirk that was growing on his lips as he moved his hips relentlessly, fucking your throat and pulling moans from you. Saliva was running down your chin, all the way down until it soaked into that stupid dress you still had on. Groans left his lips as you rubbed his balls, squeezing them firmly in your tiny hand. He was nearing his climax; he had been in an agitated and horny mood for most of the day; fucking you just happened to be his outlet.

“Fuck.” He growled as he pulled your head forward fully, burying his dick right down your throat as he pressed your nose into his happy trail.

His hips stuttered as his seed spilled forth, right down your throat as he held your head tight against his hips. Your fingers left his balls and he felt them brush over his thigh momentarily before disappearing completely. Eijiro groaned in pleasure as he shot his semen down your throat, feeling as it constricted around his dick with each swallow you gave. He smirked as he pulled his hips back slowly, keeping the head of his dick in your mouth as he let his cum fill your cavity and watching as your cheeks swelled.

You felt relieved when his dick finally left your mouth, you were certain you’d be able to spit his cum out of your mouth and be free of swallowing it. Your eyes widened when he pulled on your hair, yanking your head backwards before clamping his hand down over your mouth. Black filled your vision as his head came to loom over your own, his hair curtaining his face and brushing over your forehead.

“Swallow!” Eijiro’s word was absolute as he ordered you to do the one thing you’d been hoping to avoid. “Don’t you dare spill a drop; I want you to swallow every last bit.”

You stared back and forth between each other, hoping that he’d cave if you refused to swallow his load. The hint of a sinister grin pulled at his lips moments before your nose was caught between his thumb and forefinger. Realisation set in as you kneeled helplessly beneath the man, you had to swallow or you would suffocate. Tears pricked at your eyes as you swallowed back his semen, feeling it as it slid down the back of your throat and your cunt clenched needily in response.

Eijiro laughed callously as he released you completely and stepped back away from you. He watched as you slumped forwards, gasping for air as you pressed your upper body against the floor. “This is just a taste of what awaits you, mouse.” He uttered as he turned away from your crumpled form. “You are mine now, mine to do as I please with until I get bored with you. Your life is in my hands, never forget that.” His words rang in your ears as you breathed in deep, tears dripping from your eyes as you tried desperately to compose yourself. You had already known there was no getting out of this, you were trapped here with this man and you knew your life belonged to him now. That didn’t stop you from doing something crazy, you figured if you were stuck here; you might as well make the most of it.

“Wait, please…” You whimpered as you reached a hand out towards him, shifting your position for something better.

Eijiro groaned as he turned his head, his eyes narrowed dangerously as he glared at you over his shoulder. He watched as you shifted your body about, dropping back onto the floor and lifting your dress up over your body. All heat dropped from his gaze as he watched your legs spread wide, he could see the wet patch against your panties but he hadn’t been expecting what came next. His eyes stayed trained on your fingers as they dipped between your thighs, pushing your panties aside as you used two fingers to spread your soaked little cunt open for him. Eijiro’s dick twitched back to life, the sight of you sprawled out on the floor like that for him was working in your favour but he wasn’t about to give in that easy.

“Please, what?” He growled as he turned on the spot, making sure his body was facing you completely and that you’d be able to see his erection.

“Please, help me.” You pleaded as you rolled your hips up, giving the man standing across from you a better view of your pussy.

“That’s no way to ask a favour of your Master.” He iterated as he stepped closer to you, his eyes dipped down to your soaked folds before flicking back up to your eyes. “If you can’t ask properly, I’m afraid I’m going to have to punish you.”

You blinked as you watched Eijiro drop to his knees between your legs, one of his larger hands hooking under your thigh and lifting it up over his shoulder. His eyes stayed locked with yours as he dipped his head in, biting along your thigh and heading up towards your hips. You moaned as he bit and sucked on the sensitive flesh, leaving little marks in his wake. A whimper of disappointment left your lips as he pulled his head back, not going past your mid-thigh before biting his way back towards your knee. He was doing it on purpose, biting everywhere his mouth could easily reach and yet not touching you nearly enough for your liking.

“Please… I just want to cum.” You whined as you rolled your hips, pressing your foot up against his dick and watching him closely. Eijiro groaned low as he grabbed your foot, shooting you a warning glare as he bit down into your thigh. You cried out, a mix of pain and pleasure as you curled your toes. “Please… please…” You breathed as your bottom lip trembled, tears forming in the corners of your eyes before rolling back into your hair.

Eijiro smirked as he pulled his head back, his hand massaging your thigh as he sat back on his heels. “Please what?”

“Please, I just want to cum.” You reiterated as you tried to blink the tears away.

“I don’t see how that concerns me, little mouse.” He muttered nonchalantly as he turned his head, reaching down to lift your other leg over his shoulder.

“What do you want me to do?” You asked finally, unsure of just what it was this man desired from you.

Eijiro’s dick twitched as a wicked smirk pulled at his lips, shuffling himself up between your legs further before leaning down over your body. He could feel how soaked your cunt was, the heat practically radiating from it as the head of his dick pressed against your entrance. “Beg!”

You blinked a couple times as you tried to take in what he had said, finally it clicked and your eyes blew wide in understanding. This man wanted you to beg him for his help, to literally lower yourself in standards and beg him for something he should have naturally returned to you. Your cheeks were on fire as you puffed them up, the tears in your eyes more of a bother now as they stung.

“Beg me to help you. Address me as your Master, beg me to make you cum and then swear your loyalty to me.” Eijiro demanded as he rubbed at your thighs, flashing you a full-blown grin as he waited for your response. He knew you’d never do it; you just didn’t seem like the type of person who would put themselves at someone else’s…

“Please! Master please?” Eijiro’s thoughts were cut short as your voice sliced right through them. “Master please, make me cum. Please? I want you Master; I want you to fuck me until I cum.” You pleaded desperately, your voice cracking as you looked him straight in the eye. “Please, fuck me until I can’t take it anymore. Fill me with your semen and make me scream your name. Please, I’m begging you.” You could feel his dick twitching against your pussy, your words were having an effect on him and honestly; they were having an effect on you. “I promise, I’ll never serve anyone else. I’ll only ever be loyal to you and you can use me as you see fit, Master. Just please, please fuck me and make me cum!”

Eijiro’s head was spinning as a smirk spread over his features, never had he expected you to deliver that so perfectly. “You have yourself a deal then, (Name)” He growled in agreement before throwing his hips forwards and burying his dick into your needy little cunt.

[sierraraeck]

Love Somebody

Spencer x GN!Reader

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Summary: After your big fight, both you and Spencer are filled with guilt. Is there any way to salvage your relationship? Part four.

Category: Angst and fluff.

Warnings: Cussing. References to past fights, and a very brief mention of drug use.

Word Count: 3.1k

A/N: Inspired by the song “Love Somebody” by Maroon 5. If you wanna give that a quick listen, go for it, if not, that’s chill too. Also, I tried to make this gender neutral, but if I did not, please let me know what I need to correct.

Start by talking to Spencer.

You’d been mulling over those five words for days now and it was driving you absolutely insane. The whole reason you wanted to talk to a therapist in the first place was so you could find some peace and be able to focus better at work. Instead, you were even more distracted than you had been before, thinking about all of the different ways that the conversation could go.

Start by talking to Spencer. Oh yeah, sure, I’ll just talk to him. You know, like ‘hey, Spence, remember when you said you never wanted to see me again? Well I’m here now because I wanted to see you and work things out.’ Like what? That was never going to work.

Hey Spencer. I know it’s been a over a month since we talked and we basically broke up and the last thing I said to you was about your drug addiction, but-

Your mind faltered at the thought. It was painful to go back there and remember how cruel you’d been to each other, and then another thought popped into your mind. Is he back on drugs? Oh god, could he be passed out somewhere?

You shot straight out of your chair before thinking through what you were doing. What would you even do if you showed up and he was just fine? Plus, it’d been a month, you were sure his team could handle whatever was going on with him. Then you started wondering how he’d been handling everything. You certainly hoped better than you had. Than you were. Maybe his team would know. You weren’t super close with them, but close enough you could ask them, right? No, definitely not. Actually, now that you were thinking about it, you hadn’t seen any of them for a really long time. Not even accidental run-ins with them coming or going from work or in the break room. You started to wonder what they were up to. What he was up to.

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

Spencer felt awful. The moment he slammed the door to his own apartment after your big fight he broke down into a heap of tears. So much had happened over the past 13 months, and the full weight of it all was just now coming down on him. He lost Maeve. He found you. He lost you. He lost himself.

Spencer never thought he would say things like that. He never thought that he could be so cruel as to tell the person he loved that he would have rather died for his ex-girlfriend than be with them. Granted, he never thought you would say what you said either, but perhaps he deserved it. He’d treated you poorly leading up to that, and he’s a profiler, it shouldn’t have come as a shock. But it did. Because he was blind. All the pain and trauma and desperate attempts to stitch his life back together using your needle and thread blinded him. He couldn’t see how much you were doing for him and how much you were struggling to keep your relationship together, and he couldn’t force himself to see how much he was struggling to hang on to any semblance of the past. Any semblance of a normal, trauma-free life. He couldn’t see it. He refused to see it. And it cost him.

He took the rest of the week off and then the weekend to himself, fighting a constant battle between feeling pathetic for not being able to go into work like you probably had, and feeling like he made the right choice considering he could barely force himself to eat. He blamed you, he blamed himself, he blamed the whole damn universe for constantly fucking him over. He used Maeve and his social awkwardness and his past as excuses for his behavior, and immediately hated himself for it. He hated himself even more for fantasizing about doing exactly what you’d told him to. He knew who to call, he knew he probably still had a tourniquet around his apartment somewhere, and he knew how much it would hurt you to know that the last thing you said to him came true.

Then I guess you’re real happy you know where to get the drugs that can help you finally do that.

He hated you. No, that wasn’t it. He hated that he drove you to hate him. Did you hate him? He figured you had to after everything he put you through. And for what? So he could feel better after what he’d lost? So he could ignore the grief and the sorrow and bury it in your selfless compassion? So he could, as you said, rip apart your life?

No, that couldn’t be the end. He couldn’t have yanked you from your life for nothing. He had to make it up to you. But he didn’t even know where to start. You probably didn’t even want to see him, let alone give him the air space to explain himself. He deserved as much.

But you didn’t. You didn’t deserve that, he kept repeating to himself. He was going to make it up to you somehow. You were the most important thing in his life, one of the only people who supported him through everything, and he cared about you, more than anything. And he loved you. He would not have the last thing he said to you be ‘fuck you.’ But first, he had to make it through his first day back to work.

No one questioned him. No one said anything about his absence, and he was both grateful and irritated. Grateful that he didn’t have to explain himself, but irritated that it seemed like no one cared. Maybe he’d gotten too used to that, no one seeming to care. Maybe that’s why whenever you asked him how he was doing, and pushed him for more than a simple ‘fine,’ he felt like you were interrogating him. He wasn’t used to having to communicate like that, especially about his feelings, which he’d never been able to communicate well. Not like he’d ever practiced that. Not like dad stuck around long enough to have him practice that. Not like his mother ever noticed or remembered long enough to make him practice that. Not like any of the people he considered family ever pushed him far enough to practice that. The most frustrating part was that even Spencer didn’t know which way he preferred to go about it, talking or not talking. Neither, he supposed.

But, communication is key, something you seemed to understand to a nauseating degree, and a concept his big brain couldn’t seem to wrap around.

He didn’t see you at all that first day. Or that first week. Or that first month. He started wondering if you’d requested a transfer to a different field office, or maybe asked for your old job back. He wouldn’t know either way. He could ask you, but that would require actually talking to you, something he’d been trying to force himself to do for what felt like forever.

The first time anyone actually questioned his behavior was when the team got back from a case and were headed out for drinks. He declined the offer, making up some excuse about a head start on paperwork. The team exchanged some glances before packing into the elevator, leaving him alone with his thoughts, an occasion that was becoming way too frequent for Spencer’s liking.

He’d just started reading through his third file when the sound of the glass doors swinging open caught his attention.

A very colorful Penelope marched over to him in what he thought would be uncomfortably high heels. She grabbed the rolly chair from the desk next to him, rolled it over to his desk, and plopped down right in front of him.

“What is going on with you, my Boy Wonder?” she asked in a soft, yet demanding voice.

Spencer shrugged, “What do you mean?”

Penelope gave him a pointed look. “I thought you and Y/N really liked coming out with us?”

“Not tonight.” Spencer kept his answers short, not wanting to lie to one of his best friends, but also not wanting to get into it.

Penelope reached out for Spencer’s hands which he hadn’t realized were trembling until then. She kept them tightly pressed between her own and looked him straight in the eyes. “I know I’m not a profiler, but it doesn’t take one to know when a friend is hurting. If you don’t want to talk about it, you don’t have to. I just want you to know that I’m always here and ready to listen.”

Spencer swallowed the lump in his throat, feeling the water brimming at the surface. He nodded at her, and she gave his hands one good squeeze before releasing them. She waited for a few moments longer, hoping that he’d decide to say something but he didn’t.

It wasn’t until she’d almost reached the doors to leave when he called her name. “Penelope?”

She turned around and took a couple steps back toward him. “Yes?”

Then, in one quick motion, he stood up and enveloped her in a hug. Tears were already flowing down his face as Penelope held him as tight as she could, wanting him to know that she was going to support him no matter what. “Shh,” she tried to comfort him, moving her hands in soft strokes up and down his back, “It’s going to be okay.”

“It’s not,” Spencer’s voice cracked, “I messed it all up.”

“I’m sure that’s not true,” Penelope cooed. “Would you tell me about it?”

He told her everything. How you’d gotten the job at the FBI, how you constantly fought, how his mother started getting worse, how you found out about Maeve, and how you’d left each other that last time. He was a blubbering mess spouting about how much he still cared about you and how he’d certainly screwed it up, and Penelope tried to keep her composure, even as she felt all of his pain so deeply. “Nothing is irreparable, Spencer. If you really love Y/N that much, I think you should try to make it work.”

“But I’m not sure if they still love me.”

“I’m willing to bet they do.”

“How can you say that? You didn’t see them the last time we fought. I think I might have really destroyed us.”

“Because I’ve seen the way they look at you. If after everything you’ve been through together, you still feel this strongly for them, I bet they feel just as strongly for you. You know what, I bet Y/N is having all the same thoughts you’re having right now. If you really want to be with them, you should talk to them,” Penelope encouraged.

“What would I even say?”

“Exactly what you said to me.” Spencer gave her a questioning look. “About how much you love and miss them. And how much you want to make it work.”

She gave him a soft smile and he sighed. “You think that will work?”

“I think that it’s the best thing you can do.”

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

You were sitting in your car outside of Spencer’s apartment trying to talk yourself up. You could do this. You could knock on his door and talk to him like an adult. You could tell him how much you wanted things to work out. This is what you wanted, and even if it went horribly, you knew that it would put your mind more at ease knowing where he stood.

You walked confidently up to his door, but right as you were about to knock, you panicked. God, maybe it was better to just leave things as they were and see if he came to your first. Yes, that was a good plan, you could just wait and see what Spencer wanted.

You hadn’t driven all the way over to his apartment just to chicken out at the door, though. You knew that for better or worse you needed answers, so in a bout of confidence, you knocked on his door. Then you waited. And waited. And waited. After about five minutes, you knocked again, calling his name, but there was no answer.

You let out a sigh of relief. It seemed like a sign from the universe or whatever that this just wasn’t meant to happen. Or maybe Spencer was inside waiting for you to leave, and that would be answer enough. Either way, you only had one place to go from there, and it was back to your apartment. You wished you would have been able to talk to him, but you didn’t want to do it over the phone and you definitely weren’t going to do it at work, so you felt like the opportunity had been missed.

At least, that was your theory as you climbed the stairs to your apartment, nearly getting run over on your way up.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry!” Spencer exclaimed. Spencer?

“Spencer, what are you doing here?” you asked, taking the final steps up to the landing now that Spencer had moved aside to give you the room.

“Oh, um, I was here because, um, I wanted to talk to you.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. I-I wanted to apologize. For everything. For the way I handled our last argument, a-all of our arguments, but especially that one. I realized that I had been trying to use you to cover up the grief I was feeling, and I know how wrong of me that was. It wasn’t fair to you, any of it. I know that you know how bad I am at expressing my feelings, and how I’m even worse at talking about them. I’m trying to get better. You don’t owe me anything, and I understand if you don’t want to, but I want to try again. I know it will take a while for you to trust me again, but, Y/N, you make me want to be better. I want to be better for you. You make me feel whole, a-and I know that it’s not fair of me to put that on you either! But it’s true. I love you, and if you’ll have me, I want to try again.”

You stared at him as you tried to process everything he was saying, his demeanor getting more nervous by the second. Then, at the irony of it all, you started laughing. Which was definitely the wrong approach to the situation, but before Spencer could get really uncomfortable, you explained, “I just came from your place to tell you the exact same thing.”

His eyes got wide, and a shy smile crept its way onto Spencer's face. “Really?”

“Yeah, really. I hate fighting with you, and miss being around you. I’ve been driving myself crazy these past few weeks going over and over what I said to you, and I know I can’t take it back, but I want you to know that I regret it, so, so much, Spencer. It wasn’t right of me to expect so much out of you after everything you’d been through. Everything you’re going through. I want to make this work.”

“Me too,” Spencer said with a sheepish smile. “I know that I’ve been trying to make this into our old dynamic, and you were right when you said that we don’t really know each other for who we are now. So I want to start all the way over, if that’s alright with you. I want to get to know Y/N Y/L/N, the successful FBI lawyer, not Y/N Y/L/N the person I used to know from high school.” You nodded your head, a curve to your lips. “Well, then if you don’t mind, I’d like to introduce myself.”

You pressed your lips together, unsuccessfully holding back the small laugh as Spencer walked a few paces from you, just to turn around and walk back toward you. He extended his hand and you reached out to shake it. “Hello. I’m Spencer Reid.”

“Y/N Y/L/N. It’s good to meet you, sir.” You bit your bottom lip, knowing exactly how he’d respond.

“Actually, it’s Doctor.”

You feigned surprise. “Wow, doctor, huh? What do you do, Doctor Spencer Reid? Are you a surgeon of some kind?”

He gave a small laugh, trying to compose himself. “No, actually, I work for the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI.”

“That’s impressive. You know, I actually work for the FBI as well.”

“Really?” he asked, eyes going wide.

“Yes. I’m a lawyer, but just recently started working for them. I worked for a successful firm just before this.”

“Wow, that sounds very interesting,” he enthusiastically said, eyes shining. “Now, I’m usually not this bold, but I saw you from over there,” he gestured to the spot behind him he’d just come from, “and I must say that you are very attractive. I would love to take you out for dinner and get to know you better sometime…” he trailed off.

“Sounds amazing Doctor,” you agreed.

As he started idly moving around you to get to the stairs, he said, “Well, it’s been really great meeting you Y/N Y/L/N, the FBI lawyer, and I’m excited to get to know you better.”

“As am I, Doctor Spencer Reid of the BAU,” you grinned. God, you two were so cheesy.

“I hope that I will get a call from you soon,” he mirrored your grin, but his voice was a bit less confident than it was before.

“You might not have to hope for too much longer.”

Spencer tugged his bottom lip between his teeth, eyes wide and sparkling. He looked like your Spencer, the Spencer you’d fallen in love with.

He practically skipped down the steps, pausing only momentarily to glance back up at you. He shook his head in disbelief and smiled to himself as he travelled the rest of the way down, and you looked after him with fondness in your eyes. You’d have to say, this was so much better than all the other times you had to watch Spencer walk away. This time, you were overwhelmed with hope for what this new beginning would mean for your relationship.

A/N 2: This was the fourth and final part of this mini-series! I hope you all enjoyed it, and thanks again to the anons that encouraged me to turn this into the series that I wanted it to be! Much love!

[thatonesadending]

After being set adrift as a sheep in the astral sea, and making it into this strange city that they had followed Lucien into, Caleb is left alone with his thoughts and suspicions on what's really going on in Lucien's head. Can he bring all of his friends safely home while not being able to use the magic that Lucien can so easily dispel.

Or in other words. How Caleb defeats Lucien with a kiss, and ends up with two magical purple men by his side. Oh and it was really Sprinkles that saved the day!

Read more

He liked being a sheep. It was almost peaceful, floating in the astral sea without a thought in his fuzzy head. The tumbling only made him a little dizzy, but other than the occasional shout of his companions, his mind was quiet. He would like it to stay that way, maybe.

But of course, that was not in his cards. Beau had grabbed him by the wool shortly after she had come through the gate, keeping him from straying too far. He didn't mind the rough yank from her, or even mini Veth clinging to him as they sailed towards the city. But Jester's aggressive petting once they reached their destination was a little much. He very much didn't like when she put Sprinkle/Artigone on his back and declared them "best furry friends", and the damn fey weasel began tunneling through his wool coat trying to tickle him. Essek had wordlessly picked up the small fey and handed it back to Jester, while stroking Caleb's woolen head, and apparently ignoring the others as they bickered about a plan.

Sheep are not very smart, so it took Caleb a very long time to realize Essek was petting him. And even longer to realize he was bleeding fairly heavily. Suddenly, whatever wild magic had changed his form evaporated and Caleb was himself again, on his hands and knees in this mysterious magical city, and Essek's hand midway through carding his hair.

"Oh, apologies." Essek snatched his hand back before Caleb could even process their positions. The movement had obviously hurt whatever injury the Dow was suffering through, but before he could comment on it, Jester was calling out to him.

"Oh good, you are back! You were really really cute as a sheep Caleb, but you couldn't cast the tower. Can you do that, and we can do the hero's feast, and rest, and -" Fjord cut her off.

"Jes, we might need to figure out where Lucien and Cree went first before we are safe taking a long rest."

Right. Lucien.

The whole reason that being a sheep had been initially a very nice experience. He could stop thinking about Lucien. And, well, what wasn't Lucien.

"You good?" Beau was in his head, and he turned his head to look for her and realize he was still on his hands and knees next to Essek. As the embarrassment crawled up his neck, and thump his ass to the ground and took a moment before responding.

"Is good even an option at the moment?"

"Fair. But like, right now, you are in check? That was pretty reckless teleporting like that."

Caleb found her standing 10 feet away, shifting uncomfortably and staring at him. Instead of answering he just nodded his head, he wasn't sure if it was a lie or not but Beau took it.

They had decided that the tower wouldn't be a good idea until they knew they were safe, and the dome and a short rest would have to do for now. They had set up their quick camp in between two of the unfamiliar buildings, thinking that to be safer than out in the open. The alley was only 15 feet wide, but opened out to two large streets that hopeful they could get away quickly if need be. Caleb was not really paying attention though, all of his swirling thoughts and overthinking came back. What they were facing was …. daunting. There were too many unknowns, questions, and possibilities to think through and make a plan. Lucien has proven to be incredibly powerful, but also impossibly confusing. None of them really knew what he wanted, or why he wanted them to be there to watch. Whatever it was, it could not be good.

Lucien said he wanted to make dreams come true through his reign, it was vague and threatening enough to send a chill through Caleb’s spiking hope. Caleb had only one dream at that moment, and that was that all of his friends made it safely home from Aeor alive. All of them. It was an impossible dream, especially since he wasn't sure how many friends he had here in this strange city.

A purple hand was resting on his knee as he sat in the dome, eating and tuning out the Mighty Nein’s arguing. Caducess had healed Essek as much as he was able, but the other wizard was still clearly very tired and out of his element. It was the second time that day Essek had reached out to Caleb, well if you could count petting him through his shock of the battle, while Caleb was numbly enjoying being a mindless sheep. Normally this would have caused a little rumble of warmth and pleasure in Caleb’s chest. They had been through so much as of late, and despite it all, Caleb would be lying if he said he wasn't beginning to feel more than just friendship for the other man. However, right now, the sight of those purple fingers touching him was causing his vision to become watery, and his chest tighten with anxiety.

They were reminding him of the one thought he didn't want to dwell on, the dangerous suspicion he had not said out loud yet to anyone. They reminded him of a very different friendship that, while short, had influenced almost every choice he had made in the last year or so. Had encouraged him to see himself as more than just the worthless scars of his past, worthy of love and caring from his friends, and to leave things better than when he found them. These dark purple hands brought back memories of lavender ones that were quick to help him up when he had fallen, slap him when he was lost, and to embrace him when he was lonely. A lavender that now was being worn by a man that did not deserve them, or the memories attached to them that he claimed not to have, but still seemed to affect him.

Caleb said nothing, not just for fear of how the others would react, but how it might be their undoing. He had tested this theory a few times now, with different degrees of success. The other’s had too, but he wasn't sure they had known what they could be doing at the time. Beau couldn't help annoying Lucien, it was just in her nature. And Jester, how for all the God’s she had pulled those cards was beyond him, but it had clearly had an effect. And now, despite having multiple opportunities, Lucien had not killed them, but rather invited them to the show. But what if ….

No, he couldn't think about that, he had to push it aside. If him and his found family were going to make it through this alive, he could not continue to entertain this dangerous thought. They - he - had to focus on the problem at hand, and that was what they were going to do next time -

“So you have paid for your ticket I see. Why don't you come see the preview of my show?”

You would have thought a spell had been cast to turn Caleb and Beau into stone, for how suddenly ridged they had gotten. It was too soon. They hadn't had any time to rest, plan, they could not survive another brutal confrontation. Essek’s hand tightened on Caleb’s knee, a silent quention, one that he didn't have an answer for. He slowly met Beau’s eyes from across the dome where she sat next to a very nervous Yasha.

“I promise, you all will make it to the main event, as long as you come and be a friend.”

“Beau, is it him? Is it - is it Lucien?” Yasha was strong, but her normally quiet voice that was now shaking was giving away how distressed she was. Caleb knew this had been all very hard for her, watching Lucian reak havoc on them while wearing the face of her oldest friend. It was part of why Beau, wanting so badly to comfort her new girlfriend, had been extremely cautious as of late, trying to minimize the damage when possible. However, she was clearly losing her cool at the moment. Beau was firmly holding on to Caleb’s attention as the now visible anger was tensing all of her muscles, causing her words to be more spat than spoken.

“The dick couldn’t even let us eat in piece before fucking around with us again.”

The dome was very quiet, as they all were incredibly aware how vulnerable they were, and how they couldnt even tuck tail and run if they wanted. They were not just tired, but not nearly healed enough, and so emotionally worn out from the excitement of the day that none of them were capable of a wise thought. Maybe that's why he did it.

Caleb dispelled the dome and stood. It's not like the dome provided safety to them from Lucien if he wanted their attention, he would just dispel the magic. Besides, he couldn't leave it in place and do what he was about to.

“I will go speak with him. You all can stay here, it would be safer.” He said. Beau had already led the way once today, and she was clearly too wrung out to be asked to do that again. Lucien had not said all of them needed to go, and for whatever his promise was worth, he claimed not to want to hurt him yet.

“Like hell you will.” Veth had since returned to her normal size, but her shrill voice cut through all of the tenuous silence of the others, unleashing a new wave of arguing. Caleb was tired of the back and forth, the fear, the unknown. He just wanted to get this over with, and if the Gods had any mercy left, would get Lucien to leave them alone long enough to get a bit of sleep. Hell, if he had to welcome Lucien back in his tower so that he could get some rest so that he could think through whatever upcoming plans Lucien had, he was just about ready to do that.

The only one who caught him walking about from the group in the dark was Essek, the others too busy rehashing old plans they already knew weren't going to work. “Where do you think you are going?” He hissed in the dark as Caleb followed Lucien’s mental pull.

“I am going to get some answers. Please go back with the others, you will be safer.”

“Do not pretend to care for my safety when you are carelessly abandoning yours.” Essek could have just replied with a thought, but he did not, choosing to let his commanding voice echo in the dark, bouncing off the alley walls, destroying any chance Caleb had to slip away from the others.

Veth and Jester were already on their way to drag him back when they all saw the familiar pair of red glowing eyes heading towards them in the direction Caleb had been heading.

“I thought I would continue to be a gracious host and meet you halfway.” Lucien said aloud, his gaze trained on Caleb.

“How thoughtful.” Caleb didn't even try to contain his sarcastic weariness. “Where is Cree?” He had just needed a couple more hours of not thinking about this man, what the future held, and the danger they were all in. Just a couple of hours and then maybe Caleb could have thought of a plan for survival. As it was, Lucien was making large confidant strides towards him, and Caleb felt himself stumbling back to the others.

“She is waiting for me, getting the show prepared.” He offered, as though it was the only natural answer.

“What the fuck do you want Lucien? We followed you through, we haven't tried to attack you, should that earn a fucking moment for ourselves before you drag through whatever stupid shit you have planned?” Caleb had been right, Beau was not in the right frame of mind to be talking to Lucien right now. Maybe that was what he wanted though, his usual annoyance at her was missing, and he was grinning a fang laced snarl at her.

“Now, I promise you I have no ‘stupid shit’ planned.” He said, with an amused condescension that Caleb was sure irritated Beau as much as it did him.

“Are you patronizing me, Lucien? That’s two promises you have made in the last five minutes that I doubt you plan on fucking keeping.” She snapped back. The tieflings smile disappeared, replaced with confusion. Genuine shock at something Beau had said, his guard only dropped for a moment, and Caleb could swear those red pupiless eyes flickered for a moment. He had twitched again, but it faded, and with it lost any good humor he had.

“No, was hoping that you’re going to patronize me. Would rather me reward your group's bravery in joining me here to witness the greatness magic you’ll ever experience, with simply killing you before you get the chance? It would not change any of my plans.” His words came as a growl, a threat. That voice had once been on their side, threatening violence to those that aimed to hurt the Mighty Nien, not directed at them.

“No,” Caleb sighed, trying to gain back a bit of control. “We have come as requested as friends, not foe, for the time being.” The silence was heavy for a moment, the tension thick as none of the Nien knew how to proceed. Jester eventually spoke up.

“So, are you gonna like … tell us what’s going on or like whatever. Because if not, we would really like to finish eating.” Jester was trying to sound cheery, motivating Lucien with her effortless charm to give him more information. However, Caleb’s mind was still lingering on that twitch he had seen, just a moment ago. His suspicion was full force now in the front of his mind, he couldn't shake it, no matter how foolish or unlikely. Maybe his exhaustion was making him soft, it was definitely clouding his judgement, but a plan was starting to form in his head. A foolish plan. More of an experiment, but if was all he had without magic. Caleb was suddenly grateful for his perfect memory, the one that allowed him to remember every word those purple lips had ever spoken to him or around him. All of seemingly wise words and quickly spun bullshit.

“Now Jester, you know his mother always told him to never give away a story for free.” Caleb interjected before Lucien could respond. His red eyes snapped to him, but almost as soon as they did they unfocused. They were surely going to argue with him, ask him why he was appearing to take Lucien’s side, so he quickly pressed on. “So friend,” he directed at the tiefling in front of him, unable to conceal more sarcasm in calling him friend, “ you clearly wanted us here for a reason. You wanted us to come make ourselves useful. Tell me, how can we be the chaos you want to see in the world.”

You would have thought Caleb had struck the blood hunter, his whole lavender form constricting for a moment. Tearror, fear, uncertainty, all flitting across his face before settling on anger. It didn't take Lucien more than two steps to reach Caleb, roughly pushing him back into the alley wall.

“Get the fuck out of my head Widogast.”

Caleb was paralyzed with fear, his half formed plan had had an effect, but now what. He couldn't raise his eyes to meet Lucien’s, knowing they were clear again, and staring him down with venom.

“I was not in your head. Whatever is there, whomever is there, is not of my own doing. I know you do not want to remember anything, do not want anybody else’s baggage in your head, their problems, thoughts, ideas.” Caleb was taking a gamble speaking to Lucien telapaically, but he wanted to make his appeal as deep as possible, take any ounce of luck he might have. Lucien froze again, his eyes impossibly wide with fear. He was too close to Caleb for him to get away, his grip strong on the shoulder that he shoved back against the wall, and pain was ripping through Caleb’s fear. Fire began to curl around his finger tip automatically, just in case this foolish plan went south. Before Caleb could continue though, he caught out of the corner of his eye, Essek preparing a spell, no doubt in effort to save Caleb. But Lucien simply removed his claws from Caleb’s shoulder for a moment, waving angrily to dispel any and all magic around him sending Essek flying backwards in force, and replaced his hand now around Caleb’s throat.

“If any of you so much as think a thought of magic, I will wring his throat until he is dead.” Lucien spat, but his eye still seemed to have lost their sheen, not that the others could see it. Caleb knew he had to act quickly, before Lucien fully came out of his daze that his words had left him in.

“Don't worry, the only thing magical here is you my friend.” Despite the pressure on his neck, and the searing pain in his shoulder, Caleb reached a hand up between them and pressed it lightly to Lucien’s lavender cheek. He stroked it ever so softly. The grip lightened, and the tiefling looked as though the ground had been pulled from under him. The rest of the Mighty Nien must have noticed the change, because they all went still and were watching the odd exchange, none of them knowing what Caleb was saying. The red eyes that had been nearly boiling with rage moment ago, almost looked like a dull pale ruddy marbles, not focused on anything but whatever was going on inside. Purple limbs were trembling around him, not backing away from Caleb, but unable to move other than to shake.

Caleb threw up a silent prayer to the Moonweaver. Hells, to the Wildmother, to the Luxon, to the Traveler. He was going to need any ounce of favor he could garner for what he was going to do next. Keeping his hand on Lucien’s cheek, he used his other hand to guide the now limp and trembling fingers away from his throat, and interlocked them with his. It had been so long since he had gotten to hold these hands, he had to force himself not to look down at them and try and take them all in. Instead, Caleb pushed himself away from the alley wall, closer to the dazed and confused blood hunter, and placed his lips to the man’s forehead.

He was just as warm as Caleb remembered. A curl falling in front of his face as he leaned in to Caleb’s kiss.

“Caleb!” The surprised voice rang through his head like a beautiful chime announcing the morning was here. There was no anger, no hint of condensation, just surprise and … joy. Caleb was failing in his attempt not to hope, his kiss lingered longer than it should, not wanting to face whatever ugly expression could be back on that handsome face. But when he pulled away, he got a smile. His knees nearly gave out in relief, but the free lavender hand was wrapping around him, keeping him upright and from pulling away farther.

“Caleb!” He was now speaking to him outloud, saying his name light a gasp. The smile dancing on his lips was light, it was sweetly mischievous, and not a lick of malice. Then in his head, “Caleb, darling, would you be so kind as to help me get this fucker out of my body.” It wasnt a demand, but a plea to a friend. Caleb felt an almost immediate draining of any will power that was keeping him from hoping, freeing his inhibition. He had no idea how to get Lucien out of this body, but he knew how to draw this voice closer. Closer to him, hopeful never to go again.

The hand that had been resting on a lavender cheek, now threaded through deep purple curls, pulling the tiefling as close as Caleb could get him, lips fitting together perfectly, if a bit desperately. He could hear Jester’s attempt to stifle a gasp, Beau non-attemp to yell “What the fuck!”, Fjord’s chuckle and then loud whisper at Veth to “Just hold on, give’em a minute”. But Caleb didn't care, not sure if he ever would. This kiss was bright, gentle, and held all these unexplored feelings he hadn't wanted to explore on his own. The ones he had just started to open up when death seemed to come and stop him, the ones of accepting love and forgetting guilt. And then there were ones he continued to explore on his own and with his friends, trying to make this world a better place.

Caleb let himself feel the joy in this moment, choosing not to care for now if it would last. The kiss was long, embarrassingly so, arms were still wrapped around him with no indication of release, so he just leaned into it. He didn't know how to banish Lucien, but he felt himself reach out in his mind, and gather up everything that wasnt that evil soul and pull it close. Every good memory, every hopeful moment, every bit of light he could find, he gathered together. Eventually he felt the tiefling chuckle against his lips. The laughter sent such a brilliant sensation of hope, Caleb had to pull away so he could see the face in front of him.

“Mr.Mollymauk Tealeaf?” He inquired, surprised at the hesitation the sent thought had.

“Ja, ja. The one and only Mr.Caleb.” It was no less cute the second time he heard Molly playfully mock his accent with his own barely there one. There was a long moment where the two simply rested their foreheads together, coming down from the incredibly high emotions from the last few minutes. Eventually it was Molly’s turn to pull away and look over Caleb.

“I mean I knew you could clean up pretty, but bless the Moonweaver, how the fuck did you get this handsome?” The easy flirting tone, the one Caleb hadn’t quite gotten used to until it was gone, filled him with more joy then he could possibly hold.

“And you my friend could use a bath and a change into old clothes.” Caleb spoke with a lightness he didn't know he was capable of, laughter lifting up every work. Molly looked down at himself, still water logged from Aeor and missing all of his color.

“You know, I think you are right. Gods this coat should be a sin, a capital offense.” There was no offense in his tone, just mirth. Caleb wanted to reach out and kiss him again, except suddenly Molly was holding him at arms length and looked worried.

“You know he is still in there right? Just … deeper? Like I was.” and the out loud, as though it was an afterthought “He is fighting for center stage. Like fuck I will give it to him with out a proper showdown though.” Even though his words were quite serious, Molly seemed not to let the situation take hold of him, optimism still shining through. Still smiling.

“Gods you two are making quite a show of this, and I really do hate the theater.” An exasperated voice cut through the shocked silence that had taken over the Mighty Nien, and a small wessel wormed its way off of Jester’s shoulder and over to Molly. Before he could say anything, the little quasi-deity of trickery and joy, jumped up to catch him by the wrist and bit down hard. Molly was jumping up and down rather undignified, swatting unsuccessfully at the fey creature but yelling quite a few obscenities. Yasha was the first to break from the Nien, striding over and removing the Traveler from Molly’s wrist without a word.

“What the fuck. Why did a talking rat just bite me Yash?!” Molly was holding his bleeding wrist, looking up at the familiar barbarian like he had never left.

“Excuse me, I would have you know that I am currently a wessel.” The traveler rebuked in what was probably more admonishment then he actually felt.

“Ok, well, whatever the fuck you currently are, why the fuck did you bite me?” But before an answer could be made, Molly was turning to the still stock still group of friends that were currently making no movements to understand all of the events that just happened. “Jester, love, you think you could heal this up? I would hate to make a mess of this lovely drab coat.”

Jester didn't move however, her mouth opened and gaping. Caduceus however was looking between Caleb and Mollymauk, and seemed to be the first to accept what was happening and walked over to Molly. Clasping both his hands the tieflings wrists, he said a prayer of healing without a word.

“Um, thanks. I don't think I have met you before. My name is Mollymauk, but my friends call me Molly.”

Caduceus, is regular form, laughed easily at the introduction. “I am Caduceus, and our friends - well, they call me lots of different names.” Their smiles were easy, that of a fast friendship.

“And the rat-wessel thing that bit me? Does it have a name?” Molly asked.

“Oh, um, that’s the Traveler. At least I think.” Cad spoke as though he was just giving the time of day.

“God’s, and I thought I was good at conning people. Jessie, you really got - oof” Jester slammed her full body weight into Molly, and impossibly, picked up the taller tiefling at the same time.

“If this is a trick, I will never forgive you, I don't care if you are dead Molly, I will really haunt you if you are pranking me!” Jester sounded on the edge of tears.

“Love, how would you haunt me if I was the one that was dead and you weren't?” Molly lovingly replied while stroking Jester's hair while she clung to him.

“Don't underestimate us, we would find a way!” Veth chimed in adding her arms to the hug, despite all she could reach was his thigh.

“Um, I feel like I should know you, but I am not really one to deny a hug.” Molly laughed through obvious confusion at the halfling clinging to his leg.

“It’s Nott you asshole.” she said, never letting go.

“Oh, ok. That makes perfect sense.”

They eventually let go for the others to see, leaving Fjord shaking his head in disbelief, Beau obviously wrestling with either punching or hugging the man, Essek standing back in confusion, and Yasha … arms crossed and distrusting.

“Prove it. Tell me something only he and I would know.” Molly looked a little hurt, but then a wide grin took over his face. The kind he had saved when he had a really great story to tell.

“Well, Yash, there was that time a couple weeks after you brought me to the circus, and I was really trying hard to save up the coin for my first tattoo. And well, I volunteered myself for that ‘after hours’ performance. You being the lovely dear that you are, volunteered with me thinking you would be gentler than the rest, and what was a little rubber and oil between friends. Only, you got me to use a safeword for the firs-” He was tackled for the second time that night, the rest of that story snuffed out by Yasha’s arms.

“I thought we agreed never to bring that up again?!” But she obviously wasnt mad.

Fjord and Beau both broke at the same time, gathering up Molly into a shared embrace. Of course, Beau had to end it with punching him in the shoulder and muttering “asshole” under her breath. Essek was still clinging to the shadows, obviously not wanting to be part of this reunion. Caleb didn’t know how to introduce the two just yet, so instead he clung to the familiar.

“Mollymauk, it seems like we might have a lot to talk about, -”

“Like how you two were KISSING!?” Jester interrupted excitedly.

“Um, well, ah - I meant more of where we are and what to do about Lucien.” Caleb replied.

“You don't have to worry about him anymore.” Sprinkles was once again on Jester’s shoulder, speaking much louder than a wessel should. “I have removed his soul and sent it to the Moonweaver to deal with it. She is a lot better with that kind of thing.”

“Um thanks?” Molly said, clearly still thrown off by the talking fey wessel.

“Not a problem. Besides, I am the only one around here who gets to strangle people until death.” That should have been a horrifying sentence, but Jester was just giggling along with it.

“Ok, before we talk about anything else, you lot wouldn't happen to have my coat? And a place to sleep, I feel like I haven't slept in a year!” Molly playfully whined. He did however look fairly tired. They could get the rest of their questions answered later, all that matter was right now. And right now, they had Molly back with them. Caleb had Molly back.

He couldn't help but shoot the tiefling silly grins as he summoned the tower, looking forward to every next moment Caleb could spend with Mollymauk Tealeaf. Even as he pushed back the guilt of still having Essek by his side.

[thirstyforoc]

🎂

I know his birthday was a couple days ago but my brain doesn't work that well and I'm always early for everything else, I can be late for this.

Here's something to read that's probably not great and wordy and rambly and really only relevant to my own interests. I had to hammer this out because I just had to and it took longer than I expected because I can't shut the fuck up. Read it if you feel like it or don't, I'll still love you either way.

Using real names so don't keep going if that bothers you. I didn't post the picture but I make a reference to that one pic of him at Medieval Times, you know the one, at least I hope you do. Enjoy.

Idk, I just like picturing every single birthday Dustin and Jim have spent together since they became friends. Sue me. I have too much time on my hands and like to think about their relationship so I have to get this out. Here. Take it.

It's early in their friendship, a few years in. They're in Philly for a show and Dustin knows it's almost Jim's birthday, he's aware it's coming up but he forgot what day it fell on and that it was so soon until Jim brings it up. He's never super sober or super clear on what day of the week it is, that's just how he lives. If anyone has a problem with it that's on them. Jim never seems to take issue with it though. Maybe that's why their friends?

It's the Friday before his birthday. They're hanging out at Dustin's place before heading to the show and Jim reminds Dustin when his birthday is. "Tuesday? Your fucking birthday is on a Tuesday this year? Gross. Jim Day on a Tuesday. Lame."

Jim laughs a little, the soft laugh he always gives Dustin when he's being a certain kind of ridiculous or obnoxious, like he can't believe he's saying what he's saying. "You know I don't get to pick what day my birthday falls on, right? Tell me you know that. I need to hear you say you know that."

"I mean, yuck. What's there to do on a Tuesday?"

"I dunno. I don't really have any plans this year." Truth be told Jim's not all that concerned with how he's going to spend his actual birthday. Perhaps he'll do something with friends or family back in Jersey? Maybe he won't. It's not a big, special, milestone birthday or anything. No reason to go all out.

Dustin absolutely, positively will not shut up about it. No matter how many times Jim grunts or rolls his eyes Dustin just keeps talking and babbling about how it's a crime for someone's birthday to fall on a Tuesday. Jim's on the verge of asking Dustin exactly what is wrong with Tuesdays anyway when Dustin pauses to look right at him. "We should just start now."

"Huh?"

"Today."

"Today?"

"Yeah. Like, spend the whole weekend partying. Today is your birthday. Tomorrow is your birthday. Keep the Jim Day train on the tracks through Sunday, Monday, your actual birthday. You said you didn't have plans, right? Just stay. You'll stay and it'll be like...like one long birthday instead of a fucking boring ass birthday on a Tuesday of all days. Yeah, you'll stay and...and you'll stay and we'll find things to do every day. So, you'll stay." It's never a question. It's already been decided that Jim's going to agree. Dustin never sounds uncertain, says it with such confidence. He's not fearful even for one second Jim might say he isn't down.

Dustin wants him to stay so Jim does. Sure, he's got things he could be doing at home, was planning on staying maybe through Saturday and heading back Sunday morning, Sunday evening at the latest but he could stay. Yeah, he will stay. Dustin wants him to stay so he's staying.

Work will go on without him. He'll call his family and tell them something came up. If his parents or siblings are upset they can find a way to celebrate his birthday once he's home and recovered from what's bound to be a bender if he knows anything at all about Dustin. Dustin wants him to stay. He'll stay.

Man, go home where he's made no plans, where there's no party, and most of all no Dustin or have the time of his life all weekend with one of his best friends? Wow, that's a hard choice. Dustin really seems to want him to stay so he's staying.

Friday night they head to the nearest bar after the show is over, close down the damn thing and stay up laughing and talking on Dustin's couch for three hours once they get back. They're not even paying attention to the time, neither one cares. Drinking and partying with all their wrestling friends was fun but at the end of the night it's nice that it's just the two of them. It's nice.

The next morning is a bit rough. Ok, they aren't conscious until afternoon but 2pm counts as morning when it's Dustin and Jim you're talking about. Saturday-it's Saturday, right?-is pretty much the same only the drinking begins much earlier, like pretty much as soon as they're both showered and get some food in their stomachs. Day drinking is a lot of fun, so much fun that a short nap is necessary before they head out to meet their friends again. Actually, they kind of passed out together on the couch watching tv, it was completely unintentional and unplanned. They probably would have slept the rest of the day away if not for Dustin being startled awake by Jim's loud snoring. "Thank god we don't live together." Dustin thinks for a moment while watching Jim sleep. Well, maybe that wouldn't be all bad. Whatever, can't think about it too long, they have to get up.

Saturday night is even wilder than Friday night. They drink too much. Way too much. They're tanked. Bombed. Blitzed. Completely fucked. Dustin kept buying them shots and when their bar tab got a little too high he simply shifted to telling everyone who would listen it was Jim's birthday, coaxed a bunch of other drunks into buying them more shots.

Sunday is the worst. They're suffering when they finally roll out of bed and off the couch for good and both agree easily, immediately they should take it easy today. There's a shitty, cheap diner close to Dustin's place so they stop there to eat dinner, share a huge plate of greasy diner food that Dustin pays for. Friends keep asking if they're coming to the bar again but both of them are in rocky shape from the night before. They sit Sunday night out, convalesce on Dustin's couch quietly, chug water and make small talk while they recover.

Monday evening Dustin takes Jim to Medieval Times because the little guy has talked about it so many times since they first met, drops hints constantly about how he wants to go-not this weekend but Dustin remembers him mentioning it-so Dustin figures now would be good. It's the little hunk's birthday after all.

On the drive there they swear they're going to take it easy, agree to have a couple glasses of wine with dinner and call it good. What a crock of shit. After cracking open their third bottle of the night Jim insists he's going to sit on that throne because he'll look badass so Dustin follows. He follows his little drunk blond friend everywhere, why wouldn't he? Gotta keep tabs on him, make sure he's safe, keep eyes on him. Jim doesn't ask but Dustin takes several pictures of him on that throne, laughs the entire time because Jim is hilarious and fun and cute, really fucking cute, especially with almost two bottles of wine in him.

"Ooh. C'mon." Jim grabs Dustin's wrist so fast he damn near drops his phone, leads him towards the photo booth in the lobby. The little shit is lucky Dustin has some cash on him, Dustin can tell from the look on his face he isn't going to take no for an answer. Jim shoves Dustin in first and almost crashes down on his lap, drunk on wine and apparently really fucking excited about them taking pictures together.

The booth is tiny. The seat is narrow. Jim's a compact little guy but Dustin's certainly not. To say they're crammed in there would be an understatement but they manage. Dustin forgets to look where he's supposed to look, far too preoccupied with staring at the little blond planted on his lap. "King for a day." Jim laughs, flashes Dustin a huge, vibrant smile as he points to the novelty crown on his head.

Maybe Dustin's going soft? Maybe he had more wine than he thought? Maybe they've spent a little too much time together the last few days? Maybe. Maybe not. All Dustin knows is it's easier for him to blame the urge to kiss Jim right in this photo booth on one of those things instead of being honest with himself and admitting he has feelings for the guy.

"Maybe Jim shouldn't have such pretty pink lips if I can't kiss him." Definitely can't say that out loud. Hold on. Rewind. Go back to the beginning. Jim's drunk and smiling and the booth is still snapping pictures of them. "Say something that doesn't involve his lips, you moron!"

Easier said than done. Dustin's brain makes it sound so simple. The truth is it's really difficult, borderline impossible to stop thinking about his pretty mouth. Jim's still looking at him so Dustin smiles back, reaches over and brushes his fingertips across Jim's cheek. "You're always a king to me, baby." Why the fuck did he say that? He would have been better off just kissing Jim. Jim just laughs, a huge, easy laugh that goes on until the little voice in the booth tells them to wait outside for their pictures to process. Jim climbs off his lap and the moment is over, gone, finished just as quickly as it came. Oh well. Maybe next time. It's not like Dustin's going to forget he wants to kiss him anytime soon.

They're so drunk at the conclusion of their night at Medieval Times they need to leave Dustin's car there and catch a cab home. Whatever. He'll have someone drive him back so he can pick it up in the morning. They had fun. No harm done. A friend gives them both a lift to pick up Dustin's shitty old car and they're already out so they kick off Tuesday by going out for brunch. It's a lot pricier than the greasy spoon diner by Dustin's place and they'll both be broke by the time they're done celebrating but that doesn't really matter does it? Birthdays only come once a year and today is literally Jim's birthday. It's Jim day.

They're full of delicious food by the time they're through and stop at a liquor store to buy supplies for mimosas to drink at home because they both agreed it'd be the cheaper route. They're not trying to get hammered, just sip throughout the day and maintain a nice buzz until it's time to head to the bar. It's Tuesday. Fuck, when did they start this again? Who cares. It's Tuesday. It's Jim Day. It's not until almost midnight on Tuesday that Dustin realizes neither one of them has bothered to talk to a single girl all weekend. Huh. Weird.

Shortly after midnight they toast with a couple shots of whiskey. They call it a night before last call and pick up the most unhealthy food they can find on the way back to Dustin's place, devour it while relaxing on his couch. That's where they fall asleep too, Jim slumped over in a heap on Dustin's shoulder, Dustin simply smiling before putting an arm around the little guy and drifting off shortly after.

Wednesday is pretty chill. Jim's actual birthday has passed and they've been going pretty hard for the last few days. Dustin's suggestion to hit up the grocery store and make dinner at his place is half because they're almost broke and half because they're both sorta worn out. Jim agrees, seems happy about it if Dustin's being honest and that's a relief. He's not much of a cook but for Jim he'll make an exception. It is his birthday, or was his birthday. It may never end, may never stop being his birthday.

They leave the dirty dishes in the sink and waste the rest of the night playing video games, stay up damn near long enough to see the sunrise before they remember it'd be a good idea to get some sleep. It's strange watching Jim curl up on the couch that final time. Dustin knows he's got to go home at some point. The guy doesn't live in Philly, doesn't live here. He's got a life to go back to. He can't just spend all his time hanging out, that's ridiculous. Dustin knows it's completely, utterly ridiculous but he wants Jim to stay. He can't stay.

When they finally wake up on Thursday Dustin is oddly nervous, uneasy. They've never spent such a long stretch together, this is easily the most he's seen of Jim, the most time they've shared since they became friends. It's difficult to admit to himself but Dustin liked it. He liked having Jim around. He liked what he saw. Yeah, they were already friends, best friends but it seems different now and Dustin isn't sure what to do with that knowledge, that feeling.

Time for Jim to leave comes quickly. Before Dustin's had an opportunity to process everything that transpired from the time Jim got to his place Friday afternoon to now Jim's ready to make the trip home. It sucks. There's got to be another excuse, another reason to ask Jim to stay, right? No. He can't do that. He won't do that. Jim can't stay. His birthday has passed. Back to normal, regular life. He'll see Jim in a couple weeks for the next show anyway. He can't stay.

Dustin's not expecting Jim to hug him goodbye. Normal people, friends hug goodbye all the time, he's not sure why it comes as a surprise when Jim's hands are on the back of his neck and the little guy is mumbling something about how much fun he had, thanking Dustin. "You're welcome. Happy birthday." Dustin barely manages to say. Fuck, he's such an idiot. He's not even hugging Jim back. He really should do that.

He does hug Jim back after a few awkward moments, squeezes him a bit too tight judging by that little noise Jim just made. Why else would he make a sound like that? Dustin eases up, lets go of his waist and looks down at his little blond friend. Yeah, this sucks. What, like he's supposed to spend almost six full days with a guy like Jim and not be bothered when it's time for him to leave? He can't stay.

He can't stay but Dustin's not about to let Jim escape without joking around with him one last time. "So, same thing next year? Holy shit, your birthday is gonna fall on a Wednesday next year! Lame. A birthday on a Wednesday is even worse than one on a Tuesday. Gross, dude."

"Shut up. Your birthday rolls around first, remember? Let's plan for that first."

"Deal."