#but they do not comment on giant flying snails

[lillordambrose]

Confessor Knox (WIP pt 2)

The Endless fumbled with his mask, careful not to dislodge the rotting flesh underneath, as Knox continued through with her list of inane "mission-necessary" upgrades. Normally he tried to pay attention to her ridiculous demands, but today he could not even pretend, no, his mind was far too occupied with trying to decide between cussing her out there and then or breaking down in laughter. Both held the threat of her turning him into a collection of offcuts, a fate still preferable to the conversation. Oh makers she was still talking, wasn't she? "Boss, we cannot physically fit a cannon-" "-Right, balance and all that" the captain interjected, the Endless blinked, brow unable to furrow but right now desperately still wanting to. "Indeed, it would be too much for our... ah... vessel?" he shot a glance to said vessel, perched on top of a strange green gastropod who by the gods both old, new and yet to be, seemed to be able to fly "she... may not be able to keep upright-" "Come on, you can think of something" the captain said, her hand coming down on the zombies' shoulders, dislodging a little bit of flesh under his leather tunic, "If money was no object, what would you try?" she hummed before leaning in "Did I tell you, the Inquisition is covering my costs now?" She said it with that stupid smile reserved for bad plans that she always talked him into, despite his better judgement; A gloved hand idly rubbed the bottom of his mask as the Endless thought for a moment, "Knox, no amount of gold negates the laws of aeromancy, but I bet with enough raw voidstone, some creative engineering and a damn good cipher scribe, I suppose we could bend them"

(Not me outing myself as a Rhea Ripley fangirl (also I am now convinced every time I use her as a reference good luck seems to follow!? clearly a sign from the universe XD)

[silentprincess17]

A Proposal Gone Awry

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | AO3

Summary: Link has been touring the breadth and width of Hyrule to clear out the remaining monster camps, and soon enough, he reaches Zora’s Domain. Mipha asks him to wait before he heads back to the castle, which he was intending on doing... but some mischievous children may have other plans.

Part 4 (Final)

Mipha floated in the pool, the water cascading in gentle waves over her prone form.

It was the fifth time she had left her own private pools after a prolonged period of recovery. She waded her way through a sea of guilt, shame, mortification, longing, pining and despair. Heartbreak was a painful thing, and it was a shame her Grace couldn’t heal it. Still, her time in almost near seclusion had helped her to come to several key realisations, which she could freely admit after the initial torment and hurricane of emotions drifted into colder water.

Number 1: She realised how much she had fooled herself.

Really, she had never even talked to Link about her feelings, planning to use the armour as her segue on the topic. An armour given at an engagement! What had she been thinking? How had she deluded herself into it?

Number 2: The answer was that she was simply too scared. Too terrified to ever voice her affection for him. And it had all backfired so spectacularly. There were so many signs that she had, simply put, ignored. All the way from Link saving Zelda during their journey, to finding out who they really were: soulmates bound through all of time and fated to be together. Her cheeks coloured, from thinking of all of the ridiculous explanations she had made up in order to continue living in a fantasy she had constructed in her mind.

Number 3: All of this could have been avoided, if she had talked to him properly.

Still, it was too late to regret it now, but with hindsight, she should have done everything differently from the start. She could have saved herself so much pain. The only saving grace she had was that Link thankfully had no idea what was going on. She didn’t even want to consider what would have happened had he realised.

The flow of the water changed, and Mipha instinctively looked up, as Bazz walked in, holding a bloom of Blue Nightshades in his hands. Every day since she had returned from the castle, he came carrying a small bundle of flowers as an apology. He had noticed how reclusive she had become, and the blanket of sadness that covered her like waves covered the ocean. She had reassured him multiple times she wasn’t sad because of his little stunt, and he didn’t need to bring flowers, but the poor boy had taken it to heart.

He had even brought the whole gang over on the first day that she had left her rooms, each of them bearing a gift. Bazz himself had brought her purple hyacinths, which apparently “symbo-bolises forgive-ness”. Gaddison had polished her treasured Lightscale Trident, something which Mipha hadn’t held for over two months. It had felt so good to wield it in her hands again. Rivan had given her a hearty blue snail, whilst Sidon had given her a huge hug, and a pendant that had Vah Ruta engraved into it. She knew her father must have helped him, but she still appreciated the effort he had put in. Once she had hugged him, he had softly whispered in her ear that she was his Hero, and he wanted her to smile again, like this, and he had given her the best gift of all- his trademark smile and pose.

It had made her feel comforted and helped her realise that she had a family here. She had responsibilities. She couldn’t just hide away from the world because she didn’t have the courage to talk to the man she loved, and now he had been taken away.

She was Mipha, Princess of the Zora, a daughter, a sister, a warrior. Yes, Link had played a large part in her motivations. She had always wanted to protect him, ultimately. First by healing his wounds, then by fighting the lynel with him, to finally creating an armour containing a piece of herself. But what she had failed to realise then, and she understood now, was that it wasn’t just all for Link. It was for her Domain, for her people who she would eventually rule over.

After that fourth realisation, it became easier to ease herself out of her rooms. To slowly begin to partake in the council meetings. To swim in her home’s beautiful waterfalls. To allow herself to heal.

She smiled as Bazz shuffled closer, his sword still scrapping the floor with every other step. He held out the peonies he had gathered today, and this time pressed a letter into her hand. She raised an eyebrow, but he didn’t say anything, just shrugged. She flipped it open, and it was about an event at the Flight Range. She read, and reread the short brief,

To all the children in Hyrule,

I, the Great Revali, Champion of the Rito, will be offering free lessons in the all-important field of archery.

Should you want to participate, convince your parents/guardians to bring you this Saturday to the Flight Range.

Teenagers are welcome on the following day and for those who do not possess this basic knowledge, I mean Sunday.

Remember that if you do come, I will expect nothing less of excellence, or at least, the maximal effort to be demonstrated until you achieve said excellence.

Master Revali, Champion of the Rito

Well, she never would have guessed Revali liked children. Or indeed teaching. He… well, she wouldn’t say he was the most patient of the Champions. Still, it was good of him to do… probably. She wasn’t sure he would have many students left after the first session.

But why had Bazz given this to her….? She got her answer when she looked up to Bazz’s huge, silently pleading eyes. She sighed. The children had done a lot for her these past few months. It was the least she could do to supervise them on a short trip. It was highly likely Revali would scare them all away, if she was being honest, which would be the main reason she wouldn’t want to bring them. Still, if they wanted to go, then she would accompany them. It was only right she gave back a little of what they’ve given her.

She smiled as she heard Bazz screaming to the other three and lifted herself out of the pool. She was out of practise with her spear, and she was certain Revali would notice. Not that she cared for his crass comments, especially considering what she had gone through these past two months… but she was still competitive and just in case he asked her to practise like they once used to, she needed to make sure she wouldn’t fail within the first minute.

The children squabbled together on the swim to the Rito Village. They were excited for their first time out exploring Hyrule, and she had to remain vigilant if any one of them decided to pop up for air and sit on the bank to appreciate the views. Whilst she did understand how shockingly green the world must appear to them when compared to the Domain, there were still monsters around, and these children were all her responsibility.

Soon enough they arrived, threaded in amongst the throng of people present in the Flight Range. Revali was at the entrance, by a giant board of names. He held the chalk in his hands as he wrote down the name of each child at a specific time slot, before directing them towards the bonfire that was burning in order to stay warm. From what she could make out, around half of the slots were filled, with lessons starting at 1 pm. As this was the sign up session, no one had been assigned into classes yet. She assumed it would be dependent on the numbers that turned up today…

She made sure the children were organised in file row by age, with the eldest first, (Gaddison, Bazz, Rivan and Sidon) before she approached Revali.

He merely nodded at her, wrote down the four names and directed her in much the same way as everyone else. Well, she wasn’t expecting favouritism, but surely in light of their history he could- wait- actually… What did she want him to do? She had only had a few training sessions with Revali, and aside from the battles they had fought together, she had rarely interacted with him. He didn’t tend to stay for the informal sessions they had as Champions, and, as he rubbed a lot of their group the wrong way, she had never paid much attention as to why that was.

She only smiled, asked if he needed any help, “No thank you, Mipha. Just head to the bonfire.” And Mipha understood his curt dismissal. He looked stressed, and she wouldn’t want to exacerbate that.

After a couple of hours, it was the Zora children’s turn. All of them headed off towards the Flight Range, were given basic instructions in how a bow works by Revali, and a brief guide into using a paraglider as an emergency safety check. The main benefit of practising at the Flight Range was that even if they slipped, or lost control, the wind was so strong it would buffet them in the air until Revali himself would pick them up. Anyway, no one would be flying out unless they fell; the first lessons would take place on the deck whilst aiming at the target just across.

Mipha was not afraid of anything going wrong. She trusted Revali. Despite their differences, Revali would never let any of one of them down.

Gaddison did the best, she adapted well to the new weapon, a swallow bow, managing to hit the inner turquoise ring after five arrow shots, whilst Bazz came in second hitting it after eight. Rivan managed in twelve, and Sidon could only hit the outside ring. He was perhaps too small for this sort of venture. Mipha understood his need to participate though; she knew he really wanted to be accepted into Bazz’s brigade, and she wouldn’t stop him from trying to fit in.

Whilst the children were firing at the target, she came to stand by Revali. He was intently focussed, but she thought she could perhaps try to get him to relax a little.

“This is a really good thing you’re doing Revali… training the next generation of potential archers.”

He fixed his emerald eyes on her, funny, how she had never noticed the startling colour before, “Well thank you, Mipha. Not all of us are handed our legacies. I have to make my own.”

She paused… hesitated a little as she thought over what he meant. It was true: she had never realised but all of the other Champions were in positions of power. She was a Princess, Urbosa was Chief of the Gerudo, Daruk was Chief of the Gorons. Zelda was Princess of Hyrule, and Link was Captain of her Royal Guard team. Except for Revali. His only title was Champion… “Perhaps that is a good thing. Self-made legacies are the ones that people remember the most.” He didn’t reply, so she asked another question. “How did you come up with the idea of making the Flight Range a training centre?”

He wrapped both arms around his chest, which she read as a little defensive, “Teba. His son, Tulin, trains here. Well. I guess I should say, ‘will’ train here.” He shook his head, “Anyway, I also don’t want to be remembered solely by the Rito for having trained Rito warriors. I want this to be an endeavour that spans across Hyrule. Archery is just as, if not more, important than simple swordplay.”

Ah. There it was. She wisely chose not to say anything else on the matter, “It’s an admirable aim, Revali. And from the volume of people here… I’d say you are in a good position.”

He merely shrugged. “It’s only the first session, Mipha. It would be foolish to assume the same pattern for the future.” He hesitated, looked at her ornamental silver again, before his gaze flickered away onto the children. He cleared his throat, risked another glance at her, before speedily asking, “Why did you change your armour?”

She was about to respond to his initial statement actually, to reassure him that it would work, and that he was a Champion which would undoubtedly make people want their children to be taught by him, but he had caught her completely off-guard. “What do you mean?”

He jabbed a feather at her clasp. “That never used to be there.”

Oh Goddesses. How would she explain such a thing? How had he even noticed such a small difference? “Well, one of the scales needed to go. It happens sometimes.” There. That wasn’t a lie. Technically, the scale had to go, and it didn’t happen often obviously, but she wouldn’t have to explain the ins and outs.

He paused, just for a second, before continuing on, “Is it susceptible to attack?”

“Well, yes-”

He jutted in, “Would you like to train then? It’s important to maintain your defence. Especially with such a pronounced wound that anyone could take advantage of.”

She did not mention the wound was, in fact, sealed completely by the clasp. But she appreciated his offer. It had been so long since she had properly trained with a Champion. And… now actually, she could remember him doing the same thing at the ball. Had he spotted it from then? Had he wanted to ask if she was okay from then? Had he wanted to train… to help her better defend herself from then? She wasn’t sure why she found that surprising, but it felt good to know he cared. “Okay.”

“Monday evening… at the Domain, for your convenience?”

She nodded, and with that, it was the end of the children’s turn. She established what time, exactly, on Monday evening, and invited Revali to come over for dinner. He hadn’t had a chance to visit the Domain properly in all the chaos of the Calamity, but there was no such rush now.

Mipha had a giant pile of things to do, and she tried her best to do it all quickly. First, she dropped the children back to their home familial pools, reassuring their parents that everyone had been well behaved. Then she informed her father that she had invited Revali to dinner so preparations could be made in time. Finally, she visited her Divine Beast, Vah Ruta... She paused at the entrance, smoothing her hand across the door. Ruta was pleased to see her Champion back, and Mipha found herself falling back into her routine of caring: she gave Ruta good clean, and even ended up having a late-night bonding training session to attempt to prepare herself for Monday.

In all her haste to do it all, by the time she finally reached her pools, she was so tired she immediately blacked out.

It was only in the morning that she realised, for the first time that night, in the span of two months, she didn’t think of Link. Of her failed proposal. Of her shame and embarrassment at reading the whole situation so wrongly.

And she finally braved the courage to pull out the package that she hadn’t touched since that evening. She decided it was time to post it to Link. She wrote a short note about completing his armour set, and she didn’t mention anything else. By letting go of it, and subsequently of the feelings that were associated with it, Mipha finally felt lighter than she had for a long time.

She grabbed her Lightscale Trident, keen on getting some practise before Revali came. Who knows, maybe he could teach her some archery too. Whatever it was, she was keen to finally put her trident to some good use again. For the first time in two months, she had something to look forward to… a goal she could achieve.

Perhaps her proposal had gone awry… but it had given her a much needed wake up call.

She was more than a girl who loved a boy.

She was Mipha, Princess of the Zora, Champion of the Zora and of Vah Ruta, a warrior and healer that contributed to the destruction of the Calamity. She was Sidon’s hero, and it was time she lived up to it.

Mipha stepped forward, her Grace poised in her movements, bold, determined, and ready.

[ateezmakemeweep]

richboy!seonghwa (part 25)

word count: 9k

angst, fluff, smut

(part 24) (series masterlist)

with only a week left of break, you and yeosang intended to make the most of it. he had taken you on dates nearly every day, whether it be to dinner or iceskating or sledding followed by hot chocolate and movies on his couch.

but there was one more thing he wanted to do with you.

which is why he planned a weekend trip to the ski lodge, surprising you two nights ago when he told you to pack a bag and that he'd pick you up at eight o'clock in the morning. it's also why you currently have a death grip on his hand, looking down at the snowy hill and remembering why the hell you hadn't been too keen on skiing last time.

"yeosang, i'm gonna break my leg."

"you're not gonna break your leg," he tells you, hearing the smile in his voice as you stare down at all of the trees and people and bushes you could potentially crash into you. "but i am getting sick of waiting so if you don't do it in two minutes, i'm pushing you."

you snap your head to look at him, eyes full of betrayal and outrage. "don't you dare!"

"baby, i showed you what to do for the last two hours."

"and i'm not ready!" you whine, "why couldn't we just go ice skating here?"

"why do you think?" he asks lowly, eyebrow quirked up as he looks over your face knowingly.

"seonghwa!" you squeal, eyes roaming the sunny, snowy landscape before turning around excitedly. "this is so pretty!" you squeak.

"aren't you," he mumbles, placing his hands on your already cold, red cheeks. "but i told you to wear a hat."

"i forgot," you whine, "and don't think we're gonna graze over that cheesy line!" a giant smirk covers his face as he takes the black hat off his head to secure it over yours. you both giggle when he tugs it too far down, blocking your eyes for a minute and when he pulls it back up, he's bent down slightly so you're face to face.

"there you are," he says playfully and you roll your eyes despite the smile threatening to spread across your face. it's not until he takes your hand and walks a few feet behind him that you notice the two pairs of ice skates in the snow.

"is this safe to skate on?" you ask and he looks at you with a mock look of hurt, pushing snow off the bench before guiding you to sit.

"would i really suggest we do something that'd harm you?" he asks while taking off your snow boots.

"well i did just think you were going to murder me," you quip sarcastically and he rolls his eyes, shimming the skate on your foot and tying them up. "how'd you know my size?"

"i guessed," he says shyly and you smile down at him. "you were right!"

"you were wrong!" you screech, the sound of your high-pitched yelp echoing in the cold air, "i'm still gonna break my leg! there's no side to hold onto!"

"you haven't even stepped on the ice, y/n," seonghwa says, humor in his tone despite standing there with his arm outstretched for the past twenty minutes.

"i'm scared!"

"i told you i'm not gonna let you fall," he says, skating towards you and what is with rich people and their full capabilities for winter sports? "can't you trust me?"

your face falls, eyes diverting as a tiny huff leaves your mouth: perhaps the reminder was a little too much for both of you. but when you guys had passed it on your way, you remembered how much fun it was. how pretty the view was and how light-hearted you were despite the drama that had followed.

but it was nothing like the reminder you and yeosang had walking into the elevator this morning, coy smirks and your cheeks flushing as your boyfriend said you all but attacked him.

"i attacked you?!" you yelped in outrage, pushing him to the side lightly. "don't even try it."

and naturally, the boy had flung himself into the wall, raising an eyebrow at you teasingly as if to say 'round two?' but before you could say a sassy comment, roll your eyes and teasingly berate him, he reached out and grabbed you. your bodies collided shortly followed by your lips, the kiss and tongue slipping into your mouth quickly humbling you.

it had all the same passion and intensity as last time, except this one felt a little more...familiar. it wasn't as sloppy and rough, as charged with overwhelming anger or sexual tension. he pulls back and looks over your face, the smirk tugging at his red lips.

"were you trying to say something?"

you roll your eyes at the boy, pushing him further back into the wall and tugging his mouth back down to yours. "shut up."

"shut up," you grumble to yeosang who only lets out a snort, the hand not being crushed by yours on the small of your back.

"one minute," he says lowly.

"yeosang, no!" you whine, craning your neck to look at him with a pout. "i'm not ready."

"you are, i promise," he says, placing a peck on your nose that two little kids flying by on skies gag at. the both of you look at one another and burst into laughter, yeosang half tempted to crush your lips against his and really make a scene. but because there's only about 40-seconds left, and you haven't conquered your skiing fear yet, he refrains.

"i don't think i am," you say, "i think i'm gonna fall into a tree and die."

"i'm gonna be right next to you the whole time," he says, lifting his hand up to play with the pom-pom of your hat. "worse comes to worse i break your fall and i die."

you snap your head to look at your boyfriend, the bewildered expression on your face bringing a wide, handsome smile to his face. "that doesn't make me feel better! in fact, it's making me feel a lot worse and i think we should just-"

"knees bent. arms in front. slow."

and with that, he lightly pushes at your back and there your skis go, gliding easily down the snow. the surprised shriek leaves your mouth causes yeosang to snort, rolling his eyes as he watches you from right beside him.

your feet are steady under you and you're going a whole lot slower than you thought, feeling yeosang's presence next to you and hearing his quiet, approving hums.

"not as bad as you thought, huh?"

"it's....kind of fun," you admit. because even though you're moving at a snail's pace and 7-year-old's are zipping by you, you're able to do it.

you haven't toppled down the hill or twisted your ankle and crashed into a tree. the snow is firm under you and the hill is covered in white, picturesque snow with the bright winter sun shining in the sky.

you giggle when yeosang zips in and out of you like the show off he is, squealing when he falters ever so slightly. but he confidently recovers and shakes his head, insisting it'd take a lot more than that for him to fall, especially on the bunny hill.

"i'm yeosang, i'm so cool and athletic! i'll never fall, especially on the bunny hill. because don't you know who i am? i'm a big strong masculine man."

your boyfriend looks at you from his seat on the first-aid chair, the attendant dapping at his cheek with an alcohol pad not being able to hold back a snort. yeosang snaps his head to look at the girl, squinting his eyes at her before letting out a huff.

"i thought you were falling so i moved too fast."

"uh huh," you say, your eyebrows quirked up and a sarcastic smile on your face. you giggle into your hand when a large band-aid covers his cheek, the girl telling him apologetically they ran out of the smaller sized ones.

"this is ridiculous, y/n, i'm taking it off," he tells you, your hands intertwined as you walk out of the small first-aid station.

"you can't!" you squeal, smacking his chest lightly. "at least not yet." your eyes catch a familiar looking cafe down the street and you smile up at him, telling him how much better his crushed ego and scratched cheek would feel after a hot chocolate.

"my ego isn't crushed," he grumbles. you giggle, tightening your hand in his before speed walking towards the warm cafe. he tells you over and over how he really thought you were gonna fall, how instead of making fun of him you should be thanking him.

"thank you for saving me from not falling and instead, messing up your face," you tell him as you wait in line, rubbing over the band-aid with a slight pout. "hopefully it doesn't scar. might have to break up with you then."

his eyes narrow at he shakes his head, ripping his hand from yours and pulling you into his chest. "you're such a little shit today," he mumbles lowly in your ear. "just wait till i get you alone tonight."

you bite your lip to hide your smile, looking up at him and resting your chin on his chest. "till we're alone?" you ask, "what are we gonna do?"

they call next and and yeosang orders two hot chocolates, your body still tucked under his arm and making the two workers behind the counter smile sadly; there's something about seeing two people in love that makes their lonely selves sad. they watch you both bounce away happily, your pleas about wanting to pay for just one thing outweighed by him promising that'll never happen.

"they're cute," the one worker mumbles to the other. "sickeningly," the other comments, watching as you guys take a seat by the window. "must be nice."

"how 'bout i buy you a souvenir?" you insist, "like a 'my girlfriend bought me this shirt' or something!"

yeosang's face twists into one of utter disgust, shaking his head immediately. "i think i would've preferred my face getting sliced open."

you throw your head back in laughter, yeosang's deep chuckle and soft eyes watching you causing your whole chest to feel warm. everything with him is so easy and fun and natural, an instinctual connection and banter that has a certain four letter word on the tip of your tongue.

you'd never said that to anyone before and the thought of saying it kind of scares you. not because you don't think the feelings will be mutual (though you really don't know, that could be the case even though you sincerely hope it isn't) but also because it's such a turning point in a relationship. it's an extra layer of vulnerability stripped away and really will make everything feel so incredibly serious and real.

his name is called from the counter and he cranes his neck around, two cups steaming with a cookie in between causing him to jump up. "be right back," he says, winking when you sees you let out a sigh; you could've at least gotten it since he paid.

you watch him confidently walk up to the counter, rolling your eyes playfully before looking out the window. the sun is about to set, the last few brave skiers finishing their last trail for the day skillfully. it felt like you were just at this lodge last week opposed to almost five months ago, five months full of drama and confusion and heartbreak.

"thank you," you say quietly, "i have cash if you-"

his blank stare causes the words to die in your throat. so instead, you mirror him and take the hot cup in your hands, closing your eyes contently when the warmness hits your cold hands. you take a little sip to test the temperature, humming when you discover it's not burning and take a longer sip.

you pull back and seonghwa laughs, reaching his hand out to wipe the little bit of foam off your top lip. you swallow nervously, shyly looking down and another laugh leaves his mouth.

"what, that was too much for you but not falling right on top of me?"

you head pops up at his teasing tone, a surprised look on your face that he just called you out for getting shy.

"that was an accident," you grumble, "i told you the bunny hill was too daunting."

"little kids were lapping you," he says with a smile, "not by a little either."

you squint your eyes at him, taking another sip of your drink until you start to roam his face. because you can't look at him for that long or your heart starts to malfunction and it's then you realize how red his ears are.

"seonghwa! your ears!" you squeak.

"what about them?" he asks, one hand shooting up to feel it, "oh, it's cold."

"cold?! it looks freezing!" you reach out to touch it and gasp when it feels like ice. he watches as you take the scarf off from around your neck quickly and stand, looking at you warily.

"what are you-"

he can only freeze as you make your way in front of him, wrapping the beige and red fabric around his head and he's never felt more ridiculous but happy in his life. you make sure to cover his ears before pulling back to peak at him.

it makes you burst out laughing.

"aw, you look cute," you tell him sweetly because oh my, god he looks cute.

"i look like a grandmother."

"okay, but a cute warm grandmother whose ears won't fall off," you say as you sit back down, smiling to yourself as you take out your phone.

"what are you-"

"smile!"

you shake your head of the memory, looking at the view outside of the window and then down at the table. you swallow and breathe out shakily, feeling a slight pit in your stomach. because while this trip is great with yeosang, there's also a lot of reminders. reminders of seonghwa and reminders of how you felt back then and how you and your boyfriend were still rocky and fighting.

until you weren't. until he showed you another side of him that he'd never shown anyone and the inklings of just how good you guys seem to be for each other started to show. but still, it makes a part of you sad. makes you wish you had handled things differently and-

you jump when the tray clatters against the table, looking up at yeosang who's watching you carefully. "what's wrong?" he asks and you're not surprised in the slightest that he can tell your mind was just clouded and occupied.

"nothing, just thinking," you hum, bringing the cup to your lips and smiling at the chocolatey scent wafting in your nose. he watches you sip down the drink with a soft look in his eye, reaching out to wipe at the foam on your lips. you jump at the feel of his cold fingers, his eyebrow shooting up at you.

"something's wrong with you," he says again. but you only shake your head, knocking his foot under the table playfully.

"no," you insist, "your hands are just cold."

his eyes stay on yours for a few seconds, narrowed at you like he's trying to tell if you're lying. but when you narrow yours back playfully, a smile quirks at his lips and he brings the cup to his mouth.

"hey," you say randomly, trying to stray your memories to anything but seonghwa. "can i ask you something?"

he raises his eyebrow questioningly, nodding his head at you silently.

"why'd you pay for me?" you ask him. and when his face is clouded with confusion, turning his head to the side and about to ask what you're talking about, you clarify. "for the school ski trip. i never got to ask you."

his takes a sip of his drink to hide his smirk, remembering the day he decided so vividly. She was listening to you talk to mingi and yunho so openly about your situation, remembering how you defended him even though he mostly definitely didn't deserve it.

but nevertheless, a part of him admired you. because you had been handling everything so well, the other kids and your scholarship spot, when he also knew the other half of your problems were coming from him.

"i heard you talking to pretty boy and his lover," yeosang says, a small smirk on your face at the mention of those two. "and i don't know, i just...wanted you there."

"even though you hated me?"

he lets out a scoff as he rolls his eyes, reaching out to take your face in his hand. "i never hated you," he says lowly, "but i wanted to."

you let out a snort, ripping your face from his hold as you roll your eyes back at him. "what a dick you are!"

he bites his lip to hide his smile, looking over your face with the softest expression you've ever seen. "i knew you'd break me down, somehow," he tells you casually, candidly, like he's just telling you about the weather forecast. "there was just something so...obnoxiously alluring about you."

"obnoxiously alluring," you hum, nodding your head at him skeptically. "you're killing it right now."

he smirks, playfully kicking your foot under the table. "but wasn't i correct? look at us now baby," he says, the teasing wink he throws you causing you to scoff.

"you know what else i remember?" you say after a few moments.

"hm?" he hums, not having a damn clue where your mind is deciding to go with this.

"remember when you gave me that blueberry muffin?"

a scoff leaves his mouth as he rolls his eyes, knocking your foot under the table again. "i don't know what you're talking about."

"oh no?" you giggle, turning your head to the side innocently. "because if i remember correctly, it was your favorite and you gave it to little 'ol me."

he bites the inside of his cheek as his eyes roam your face, his elbow resting on the back of his chair and you'd be lying if you said the position didn't make desire pool in your stomach.

"you're really pushing me today, aren't you?"

you bite your bottom lip, hiding your smile as you sip up the rest of your hot chocolate. you look up at him with wide, innocent eyes that are eventually what do you in for the chaos that comes your way later between the four walls of your bedroom.

because you were all giggly and teasing for the rest of night, walking through the snowy town with him as your bodies bumped into one another affectionately. but then the second you guys got to your room, you saw the change take over yeosang.

pushing you back onto the bed with a dark, heated look in his eye. his strong hands tugging at that waistband of your pants and underwear and shoving them down in one go.

"you were especially bratty today," he hums between your legs, looking up at you and smirking when he sees you're already on your back panting. his fingers trail along your slightly wet thighs, tracing shapes into your skin until a tiny whine penetrates the air.

"what was that?" you hear his voice ask, smug and teasing and almost condescending. but it's something you've come to love. "are you getting frustrated?"

"yeosang, please," you gasp out, feeling how much you've dripped between your thighs from his tantalizingly slow and close touches.

"all polite now that you're on your back," he says, feeling how hard he's grown but attempting to control himself. "tell me, baby, what is that you want?"

but before you can say anything, his finger touches your clit and you moan out loudly. he flicks at it for a few moments, listening intently to the perfect noises leaving your mouth. "do you wanna come like this?"

"yes," you pant.

so he flicks and rubs his finger skillfully over your sensitive clit, your legs shaking and moans getting louder and louder until he rips it away. you look down at him with frustrated heat in your eyes, about ready to cry because you were so close to coming.

"yeosang,"

"but what about like this?" he asks, lowering his head at you slightly before his hands hold down your hips and his tongue is on your clit. you scream out at the sudden feel of it, already stimulated and sensitive from his fingers but feeling so much more when he trails his tongue over your clit and down to your slit.

"oh, my god, please," you whine, moving your hips against his face so his mouth can go back to where you want him most. and because he already knows you're not getting what you really want, he abides.

laps and swirls his tongue back around your clit as he curls his finger inside you. another orgasm is quickly following, your ears whooshing and legs shaking as you clench around him. you're about to scream out his name when, again, he rips his mouth and fingers away from you.

"what the fuck, yeosang," you whine, rolling your head to look up at him through dazed eyes. "i wanna come."

he only smirks at you, tugging his pants down and loving the way your eyes travel down to his dripping, hard cock.

"but that's not up to you, is it?" he says, crawling up on the bed and placing a kiss on your lips. "now suck my cock and maybe i'll think about it."

and about as desperate to come as you are to please, you push him down and straddle him backwards to take his cock in your mouth. you swirl your tongue around the tip, swallowing him eagerly as your hand jerks him skillfully; after all, you'd gotten a lot of practice these past few months.

because while you guys haven't gone all the way yet, you've spent many nights on his couch in this exact position. his cock in your mouth with your ass in face, tempting him with your wetness to please let you come.

and just like all those times, he can't resist. so he pulls your hips over his face, bucking his cock into your mouth for good measure, before his mouth covers your pussy. you moan against him as he tongues at your clit and slit, the immense pleasure humming in both of you making everything more intense and passionate.

it's why you both moan out at the same time, your loud groan vibrating against his cock as your pussy muffles his. you nearly collapse on top of him, only on your back when yeosang sits up and flips you over.

he cleans you up with the stray t-shirt on the floor, placing a tired kiss on your lips before his arms wrap around you from behind. "you gotta stop using that position against me," he mumbles lowly in your ear.

you can only tiredly giggle, turning in his hold to bury your face in his chest. "you gotta stop trying to punish me."

and if you thought orgasm denial was his form of punishment, you came to realize that night overstimulation was far worse.

you guys get back to yeosang's house around dinner time, plopping down on his couch after the long car ride and deciding to call for chinese food before he brings you home. you're now laid on the couch together, his body under yours as you rest your head on his chest and watch the movie through heavy, tired eyes.

"can you sleepover?" he mumbles in your ear, "i'm gonna miss waking up with you."

you look up him with a pout on your face, pecking his lips sweetly before resting your chin on him. "i know," you whine quietly.

his eyes roam over your face, the soft light hitting you from the tv causing his heart to constrict. he thinks (knows) he loves you and has been wanting to say something but anytime he tries, something stops him. whether it be an external or internal interruption, something always stops him.

"so you will?" he asks, not even recognizing the soft, hopeful tone of his own voice.

"i think my mom will go crazy if i don't come home," you tell him sadly. "but i'll come back over tomorrow."

but apparently that's not good enough for him.

because he tightens his hold on you and crushes you against him, shaking his head adamantly and causing you to giggle against him. "i'll stay fiveee more minutes," you whine, burying your head in his neck and listening to him to inhale sharply when your breath tickles his skin.

he walks you to his car after what becomes fifteen more minutes, your hands intertwined over the console as you both sit in a comfortable silence.

"thank you for this weekend," your soft voice says suddenly. "i had a lot of fun."

he looks over to smile softly at you, lifting your hand to his mouth to place a kiss. "of course, baby. me too."

"i'm happy your face didn't scar," you tell him, reaching over with your other hand to run your finger against his cheek.

"me too," he says sarcastically, "otherwise, you would've broken up with me."

you turn your face away to giggle, missing the way his gaze lovingly runs over you before as he licks at his dry lips.

when you pull up to your house, he opens your door (you never would've believed the first week of school that this man almost always insisted on doing this) before taking out your suitcase. just as you both start making your way up your walkway to the stairs, your phone starts ringing in your pocket. you narrow your eyes in confusion before taking it out, you just texted your parents you were coming home; why would they call you?

yeosang sees your face fall when you look at the caller id, watching as you hesitantly press the answer button.

"seonghwa?"

the boy didn't really know what set him off that night. it could've been multiple things, honestly.

the months of pretending to be okay with everything that happened, pretending it didn't kill him watching you and yeosang smile and laugh and be happy together. pretend that the other week at the new years eve party, he didn't wanna beat the shit out of yeosang and protect you the way he always did.

but then, he supposes, the picture he saw this morning was thing that truly sent him over the edge. because upon seeing you and yeosang's selfie in front of the ski lodge, it felt like a slap in the face.

his mind couldn't help but be smacked with memories from that trip, the good and the bad.

the drive up, seeing you every morning for breakfast, your ice skating date, your first kiss. but then it was shortly followed by the fact that the next day, you and yeosang had kissed.

he remembers feeling nervous and insecure when he found you in his room the night of the blackout, sensing a feeling in the air and seeing something in yeosang's eyes that should've made it obvious to him that the boy was quickly falling for your charms.

but he was too blind to see anything. too blinded by the fact he had a week to spend with you, that his feelings were growing stronger and there was something so magnetic about you that drew him in. something that continued to draw him in and make him feel horrible due to the fact you were with his best friend.

because he's happy for yeosang, he needs someone like you. but it doesn't make his heart hurt any less.

and alcohol. alcohol makes his heart hurt less, at least for a little bit.

so he stumbled into a bar at dusk, fake id in hand that he didn't even need to flash. because once the female bar tender saw him sitting there in obvious distress, he was basically given all the beers and shots he could handle. and he could handle a lot.

enough to get him talking to the two men next to him, older guys in their 60s who immediately could sense the boy was troubled and heartbroken.

"a fight with your girlfriend?" they asked. seonghwa let out a scornful scoff, throwing back a shot and not even hissing at the sting and burn anymore.

"no," he grumbled, "i wish." because even if he had you, at least he'd be able to fight with you. though he knows, given how whipped he seems to be, he probably wouldn't even do that.

the two men listen intently to him talk about you and the situation, tell them about how he first saw you in his backyard and was immediately taken by your nervous rambling and cute, frazzled appearance. how when he saw you at school, he couldn't believe you guys were crossing paths again and he felt this strange sense to protect you. how the ski trip solidified his feelings and how he was so excited to confess to you and ask you on a date.

"so wha-what happened?" they asked, all three of the men slurring and drunk. "did she reject you?"

"worse," seonghwa laughs out bitterly. "she liked my best friend. even kissed him at that same ski trip."

"no shit," one guy says, the shock evident in his voice.

"yeosang?" the other one says, completely invested in this teen drama. "the one who paid for her?!"

seonghwa nods his head and the two men hit one another in shock, slurring about how they knew that guy was gonna cause trouble.

but even if his drunken state, seonghwa defended you and yeosang fiercely. told them you were never officially with him and that you didn't owe him anything. that even though yeosang knew, he was able to confide in you about things he's never told anyone.

the two men, however, were less kind-hearted. telling him that his best friend knew his feelings and shouldn't have confided in you in the first place. that you had to have known he liked you and saw what a great, nice guy he is.

"it doesn't even matter," seonghwa slurred to them. "y/n made her choice."

it's the sadly pathetic sentence he repeated all night, drinking and drinking and drinking until he almost forget who he was even talking about. but then he stumbled outside after bumming a cigarette from his two new friends who insisted he call you and confess now.

"you guys are fu-fuckin' nuts," he says, blowing out the smoke into the cold air. "i can't do that."

"you can tr-tryy!" the one man insists.

"yeah!" the second one encourages. "c'mo-c'mon, maybe she'll hear you out."

and if they hadn't convinced him for nearly 30 minutes and if he didn't have an absurd amount of alcohol in his system, he wouldn't have. but there were a multitude of factors that made him agree, the two men cheering as he scrolled and stumbled around to find your contact name.

and at just the sound of your voice, he felt himself lose every bit of restraint and sanity he had.

"seonghwa?" you repeat, only hearing labored breathing in your ear. you see yeosang's wide-eyed gaze on you, his eyebrow raised curiously.

"h-hi, y/n."

you immediately hear the drunken slur in his voice, biting your lip as you look at your boyfriend.

"hi. are-are you okay?"

you hear shouts of "team seonghwa! team seonghwa!" in the back, almost convinced he'd been drinking with mingi and yunho had the voices not sounded so much older and unfamiliar.

"ye-yeah," he hiccups.

there'a few beats of silence, seonghwa not saying a word as you watching yeosang mouth 'what's going on?'

"actually, no. i'm not okay," he says suddenly.

you swallow the lump in your throat, hearing the pain and agony in his drunken voice.

you had thought seonghwa had come to terms with everything but you suppose that was silly. because you have your love and affection for yeosang and still find yourself thinking about him and your memories from time to time.

"what's wrong?" you ask, watching yeosang intently watch you.

"i like you," seonghwa says lowly, "i still fucking like you and i know i shouldn't." you hear undetectable shouts in the background but you think they sound encouraging and cheerful.

"seonghwa..." you say warningly, feeling yeosang getting more and more curious.

"i know i shouldn't be sa-saying this," he slurs again, "but i am pretttty drunk and my new friends thought i should tell you. they also think yeosang's a...fucking asshole. but i told t-them he's not that bad."

you can tell by the look on your boyfriend's face he heard that, a hint of a smirk on his face because yeosang can give it the boy; even though he just confessed to his girlfriend, he's still trying to be respectful.

"but i- think a part of me hates him," seonghwa admits, "he knew how much i liked you and he still fucked me over. you-you were confused and new. but him...he's my best friend and he still did that."

you look at yeosang questioningly, knowing he's hearing all of this and not sure how to gauge his blank look now.

"where are you seonghwa? are you getting an uber home?"

"nahhhh," the boy says, "i just ca-came out for a smoke. we might do another round of shots."

"i don't think that's a good idea," you tell him gently. "i think you should go home."

"n-no," the boy hiccups, "i'm just alone there. like how yeo-yeosang used to be alone but now has you. that might be another reason why a part of me fucking ha-hates him."

and with that, the call ends and you feel your eyes water. because you've never heard seonghwa talk like that before, even when he was mad the night he found out and the other times you've seen him drunk. he had never sounded so...defeated and sad.

"yeosang, i think i should pick him-"

"no."

you let out a sigh, walking up to your boyfriend and holding both his hands in yours.

"it's dangerous, yeosang," you say with a frown. "he could get hurt or into a fight."

"all the more reason you're not going," yeosang says, lifting his hands to your face before tightening his hold on your suitcase and attempting to lead you toward your house. "i'll walk you in and go get him."

but you stand your ground, planting your feet to the floor and rip your hands out of his grasp.

he lets out an annoyed, shaky breath, snapping his head back to look at you. and he can see in your eyes that no matter what he says, you're gonna go. because maybe a part of you still feels responsible or guilty for the way things played out and effected him.

but that's not your problem anymore, he thinks, why should you care when he's your boyfriend?

"you're gonna go no matter what i say, aren't you?"

you swallow the nervous lump in your throat, his short tone holding so much anger and frustration it scares you a little. it's such a contrast to the nice weekend you had together, the weekend you try to remind him of before adding you just want to make sure he's safe.

"why?" yeosang snaps, his voice raising ever so slightly. "then i wanna make sure he's safe too. i'll come too."

"you heard him on the phone, babe, i think... that would make everything worse."

you watch yeosang's jaw clench angrily, his hand twisting around your suitcase handle. it feels like everything between you, for him, is slowly crumbling. because one drunken call from seonghwa has you ready to drop everything and run to him.

when he was drunk, you wanted nothing to do with him and begged him to stop.

"do you like him still too?" he snaps, knowing nothing he's saying right now is accurate or his true feelings. "are you just sticking with me until you know for sure? then you'll go with mr. perfect?"

your face falls immediately, tears pricking your eyes again as you watch him stare at you with coldness in his eyes. "are you fucking kidding me?"

"no, y/n, i'm not," he snaps, throwing your suitcase down as he backs away from you. "it seems awfully fucking suspicious you'd drop everything for him."

"he's shitfaced out in public and upset, yeosang," you snap, taking a step closer to him. "it could be anyone and i'd be concerned you asshole."

he lets out a laugh, rolling his eyes as he licks at his lips. "right, concerned. concerned about the guy you kissed right before me who always saved you. now you have to save him."

you narrow your eyes at him, a laugh or utter disbelief leaving your mouth as you shake your head at him. you can't believe this is happening after your weekend together, you had felt so sickeningly happy with him just fifteen minutes ago.

"fuck you, yeosang," you snap, picking your suitcase up from the ground and backing away from him. "in case you forgot, he was saving me from you. because you were always the one being an asshole to me and making me cry."

his jaw clenches at the reminder, his hands balling into fists as anger and embarrassment and shame fill him. he can't even call out your name as he watches you walk into the house, thinking that maybe you're gonna listen to him.

but he knows you. so he isn't surprised when you spin back around and open your mouth. "i'm going in the house to get my car key and then i'm gonna go make sure our friend is safe. the next time you wanna throw my confusion in my face, make sure it's about something correct."

he waits until you're in the house to let out a string of curses, his hands pulling at his hair as he resists the urge to pull it out or scream. and so he doesn't have to see you pull away and drive to seonghwa, he gets in his car and takes off down the street.

you realize when you get in your own car that you have no idea what bar he's at, cursing to yourself before you decide calling mingi might be your best way. he answers on the third ring and you hear him and yunho say hello in sync, excitedly asking you about your skiing trip and if it was weird being back there.

"seonghwa just called me from the bar drunk and me and yeosang got into a fight over it because he was being a major fucking asshole, no surprise there, but now i don't know where seonghwa is and there are probably so many bars but mingi do you know where people usually-"

"okay hold on baby girl, you gotta breathe for us," you hear yunho's voice say calmingly. "stop talking and just breathe for a minute. in and out, five times, okay?"

you listen to the boy's calming voice, ignoring the sting of tears threatening to fall from behind your eyes. it's not the time to think about this, about how much yeosang hurt you and about how much you wanna drive to his house and finish this fight with him.

but if something happened to seonghwa, you would never forgive yourself. you would feel 100% to blame and you're positive everyone else would too. and that's why you have to fucking go, contrary to your idiotic boyfriend's beliefs.

after you've calmed down and rejected the boy's incessant assurances that they would come with you, mingi gives you the address to a bar known to serve underage people all the time. you thank him and tell them you promise you'll update them tomorrow, hanging up before they can respond and backing your mom's car out of the driveway.

you haven't driven since your road test and it shows but luckily the bar is only ten minutes from your house. and you thank the gods above for song mingi because there seonghwa is, two old men sitting right beside him as the talk in a circle. you quickly get out of your running car, pulling your sweater around yourself as you make your way over to them.

"seonghwa?" you ask lowly, the two men snapping their heads up to you and their eyes widening.

"y/n!" they say in unison.

you would've laughed at this oddity under any other circumstances, two old men knowing you by name because seonghwa probably dished all of your dirty laundry to them.

"y/n," the boy himself says, looking up at you with light in his eyes, like he's trying to figure out if you're real. you give him a small smile, waving at him before craning your neck towards your car.

"hi," you say him gently, looking over his face and feeling your heart break at the sight of him. this isn't anything like that seonghwa you've known and it's all your fault. "you want me to give you a ride?"

"where's yeosang?" seonghwa asks, trying to get a look at the car. the men behind him yell "traitor!" causing you to jump and seonghwa, even in his drunken state, stumbles toward you and put his hand on your shoulder.

"he's home," you tell him, not even sure if that's the truth. "but he knows i'm here picking you up. so how bout i bring you home?"

seonghwa can only hum, looking at your pleading expression and letting out a sigh. because under any circumstance, in any state of mind, it appears he's still weak enough to never deny you. you watch him turn around and say goodbye to his friends, the two men patting his shoulder like their his grandfathers telling him what a nice guy he is and that any girl would be lucky to have him.

you feel your heart tug and pang with hurt, smiling at them softly before guiding seonghwa toward the passenger side door. you help him in and close the door as you watch him fumble with the seatbelt, letting out a shaky sigh before you hear your name being called.

you look up to see one of the men coming toward you, even in his drunken state not posing to be a threat.

"it was ni-nice that you came," the man hiccups. "he talked about you all night."

and you don't know if the comment was meant to make you feel good or hurt you but you simply nod, thanking them for taking care of him before walking around to get in the car. you pull out into the street and attempt to find your way to his house, feeling his glossy gaze on you.

"i didn't k-know you can drive."

a part of you wants to laugh at that because even with everything that happened between you two, you still don't know a lot about each other it seems.

"yeah, i have my license, just not my own car," you explain to him. "so i borrow my mom's sometimes."

he nods his head in understanding, his head lolling to the side as he looks out the window. you can only swallow the lump in your throat, your eyes widening when you hear him open it and hum at the cold air.

"you okay?" you ask him. because the last thing you want is for him to vomit in your mom's car.

"fine," he mumbles before a deep chuckle leaves his mouth. "but maybe hurry up so i don-don't puke all over your mom's car. make a left at the stop sign."

and you're pleased to see that even though he's drank to the point of puking, he was still able to give you directions. because once you see that, you recognize the streets of his neighborhood before quickly pulling into his driveway. you notice that only his two cars are there meaning that the house is probably empty.

"shockerrr, empty house," he slurs, his head lolling down and to the side as he looks at you. "you're pretty, y/n. you know that?"

your lips press into one another, biting your lip nervously as you shake your head at him.

"stop, seonghwa."

he lets out a groan, pushing his head back into the chair. "i-i know i shouldn't say that. because you're yeosang's girl and you al-also don't like drunk people or alcohol. but-but i liked you first, you know." and even in his drunken state, it sounds juvenile to his own ears

"that sounds so-stupid," he says through a hiccup. "but i do. i like you- so fucking much and i- i wish i didn't."

you bite the inside of your cheek to distract yourself from the burning of tears behind your eyes. because the way he seems so broken and upset is your fault. you can maybe even blame it a little on yeosang but it's mostly you. because you wouldn't have gotten in the middle of them in the first place if you never showed up at this backyard and agreed to sit with him 4th period.

"do you need help getting inside?"

seonghwa looks at you before shaking his head.

"n-no," he hiccups, his hand searching around for the handle. "i'm so fucking si-sick of people leaving out that door." and with that, the car door squeaks open and he shakily rises to get out; but not before turning his neck back to look at you.

"thank you fo-for getting me, y/n," he tells you, the drunken smile on his flushed face still managing to be incredibly handsome. "i hope yeosang isn't mad at you." he closes the door before you can answer, watching him stumble up the walkway lined with perfectly trimmed hedges and flowers.

the perfectly trimmed hedges and flowers he promptly leans over and vomits into, a sigh leaving your mouth as you grab your phone and turn off the car. you run over to him, grabbing him by the shirt before he can stumble forward and smack his head into the side of his house.

"whoaaa, you caught me," he chuckled out, the sound so light and airy it almost makes you smile.

"i did," you say gently. "let's get you inside now."

"you don-don't have to," he says. because he can't really say that he doesn't want to you. that he really can't deal with another person, but especially you, leaving him alone in this ginormous, empty house.

"i do," you tell him softly, moving your hand to guide him by his waist. "i'll stay until you fall asleep, okay? so you don't have to see me leave."

he doesn't say anything as you guide him into his house and up the stairs to his room. you turn on his light and tell him to change while you go downstairs to get him food and a glass of water. you fumble around in his kitchen for a few minutes, toasting two pieces of bread and filling him up a tall glass of water before grabbing two advils for the morning.

but when you go back into his room, you see he's passed out over the covers still in his clothes from the day. you let out a sigh, putting the plate and cup on the bedside table before going over to him. you kneel down, your hand hesitantly reaching out to run through his hair.

he looks so much younger in his sleep, relaxed and peaceful despite the way he was stumbling around like a drunk. the tears pricking your eyes all night finally come to the surface, falling back onto your butt as you cover your face with your hands.

every time you think your crushing guilt is gone, it always finds a way to surface back. it's like you can't get away from the confusion and decisions you've had to deal with thus far, your stomach still in a knot at your fight with yeosang and how you've gotten zero messages from him. how seonghwa has gotten to the point where he drank his sorrows away at the bar and found solace in two strangers.

how ever since you came to this town, you've done nothing but fuck with people's emotions and turn two best friends against each other.

"y/n," you hear seonghwa's deep, slurred voice. "don't cry."

your head snaps up to see him turned on his side watching you, his arm stretched out as he holds his hand out awaitingly. you only look down at it, your tears nearly blurring your vision, as you shake your head. you can't hold his hand, you refuse. it's not right to you or him or yeosang. because tonight, that would probably mean a whole lot more to all three of you.

"i'm sorry, seonghwa," you whisper to him.

"me too," he says, his eyes trailing over your face and you see the affection in them even through his drunken glossy gaze. "i'm sorry i still want you."

you feel a tear escape your cheek as you shake your head, knowing full well you don't deserve to be hearing this. that you shouldn't be listening to him tell you this in the vulnerable, altered state he's in.

he wipes at the tear on your cheek gently, the delicate swipe of his finger across your skin so foreign but so familiar it cracks your heart just a little bit more. he can only look at your face silently, like he's trying to remember this moment even though he knows he probably won't tomorrow.

"i'm glad you came b-but i'm happy i won't remember any of this tomorrow," seonghwa tells you, "because i'm so pathetic, it just might give me hope."

"you're not pathetic," you tell him brokenly, shaking your head as you wipe at the tears rolling down your cheeks.

"then what would you call it, y/n?" he asks, his eyes getting heavier and heavier as his exhaustion sets in. "pining over someone who doesn't want you? feeling like you love someone you barely knew?"

you can only swallow the lump in your throat watching his eyes close, waiting until his breaths turn even and tiny snores are leaving his mouth to cry into your hands for a few moments. because you think what's worse than doing this to him is the fact that he thinks he's pathetic for it.

because if things were different, you'd be right there with him. pining over him and loving someone you barely knew.

you watch him sleep for a few more minutes, placing the water and two pills next to his bed before slowly running your fingers through his hair as you mumble one last apology. you leave his room afterward with the plate of toast in your hand, your phone in your ear as you softly speak to san over the phone.

"i'm sorry for bothering you but can you stay with seonghwa tonight?"

the boy is over in less than ten minutes, walking through the door with an expression that nearly makes you cry on the spot. you tell him a gist of what happened, how you and yeosang fought and how it's all your fault that seonghwa spiraled into a binge drinking episode.

"stop, it's not," san assures you, his hand running through your hair calmingly. "we're all rich kids. you know we got a ton of fuckin' problems." a wet, broken laugh leaves your mouth as you shake your head, wiping at your wet face with your wrist.

"i'm serious though," san says lowly, "don't feel bad. it was a tough situation for all of you but it isn't anyone's fault."

and even though you don't believe that, you nod your head and thank him for coming. you couldn't have seonghwa waking up alone in the middle of the night, alone and confused with the worst hangover of his life.

san walks you to your car and gives you one last hug, assuring you everything will be okay with yeosang and that he'll make sure seonghwa is fine tomorrow.

but even with san's assurances, you still break down on your car ride home. because seonghwa feels bad because of you, yeosang still hasn't texted you and the lump in your throat is so big you feel like you're about to suffocate.

and just when you think you've cried all the tears you could, the sight of mingi and yunho waiting on your front steps really does you in. they immediately grab you in a hug when you get out of your car, crushed between the two boys who wipe at your tears and tell you everything will be okay.

(part 26)

[heart-stomper]

The Plantars Discover Sitcoms

It wasn’t going to be easy, especially after everything that happened back in Amphibia, but being back home finally gave Anne some room to breathe. Ease back into what she once thought of as “normal”. And while she totally plans on going for another round of hugs with her parents, right now she has another very important thing she’d like to do:

Show off as much human stuff as she can to the Plantars.

First order of business, channel surfing. It’s a totally relaxing activity where the biggest downside is that it’s basically impossible to pick something to watch. The perfect way to have a chill afternoon, and that’s just what they could use. Nothing could go wrong. Anne gathers up the Plantars and ushers them into the living room, holding out a hand as if she’s showing off a long lost artifact.

“Alright guys, here it is. The main attraction: the television. Or y’know, a TV, for short.” as Anne says this, the Plantars give lil “ooo”s and “aaa”s as if they really are being guided through some sort of museum.

Sprig bounces closer, his eyes lighting up half from excitement but mostly from getting waaay to close to the screen. “Whoa, it’s even bigger than I thought.” his words were hushed in awe.

“Impressive. You can really see all those lil details ya couldn’t with that phone of yours.” Hop Pop quipped as he reached Sprig’s side, also getting way too close to the TV.

“It really is like a giant phone! ... Can I touch it?” Polly asked, half begging. The girl was clearly ready to pounce from the spot on the coffee table she was currently at. There’s no way Anne was gonna tell her no.

“Sure dude, go ahead.”

“YES!” with that approval, Polly sprints off the coffee table and face plants right into the TV, flying between the boys. Anne lets out a low oof along side Polly’s, but once Polly triumphantly gets back up with a semi-evil sounding laugh, Anne refocuses herself to find the remote.

Cue canned laughter. 

“Oh hey, I know that laugh track. It’s from that sitcom my parents would sometimes leave on when we’d prep dinner together.”

“What’sa sitcom?”

“Well Hop Pop, I’m pretty sure it’s short for ‘situational comedy’. They’re usually about wacky stuff happening in a mostly mundane setting, like an office.”

“That sounds... kinda boring.” Polly commented with a tinge of confusion, clearly wondering why someone would want to watch something like that.

“Trust me, when you have someone to make fun of it with, even the worst jokes are funny.”

“She makes a good point. Let’s watch it!” Sprig said from... the couch? Man, that boy is quick. Anne does a spin when she reaches the couch so she can face the TV and flop down next to Sprig, and they’re shortly joined by the others. It looks like the main characters just arrived at some fancy restaurant. A server with a bowtie approaches the table, cloche serving dish in hand.

“And now for one of our finest delicacies,” the server removes the cloche, steam billowing out and concealing whatever may lie underneath, only parting when they introduce the dish, “frog legs.”

Anne and the Plantars let out a gasp. Sprig puts a hand to his mouth, wide-eyed in horror as the people on the TV gnash and tear off flesh from those poor froggy legs. “I think I’m gonna be sick.” 

“I KNEW IT!” Polly hops in front of Anne, pointing at her so hard her arm shakes a little, “You do eat frogs!”

“What?! Ew, no no no no no! Gross! I mean, some people eat them, but I didn’t grow up with that, so it’s always seriously grossed me out! Look, I’ll just grab the remote and-” Anne grabs at the empty space next to her, realization setting in, “oh frog, I never found the remote!” Anne quickly removes Polly from her lap and starts digging.

“I thought you said this was a comedy Anne, not a horror show!” Hop Pop covers Sprig’s eyes. The sitcom’s laugh track plays again as one of the protagonists acts shocked and calls the frog legs ‘delicious’. “Are those people laughin’ at the mutilation of my brethren?!” 

Anne stops shifting her hands in between the cushions and resorts to lifting them off the couch in desperation. “’Scuse me.” She slides Hop Pop and Sprig onto the ground, “Sorry Hop Pop kinda busy.” 

The protagonists finish, or at least toss out, the remaining frog legs. Hop Pop makes a comment complaining that you should at least finish eating something you’ve killed, which catches Anne’s attention. “Finally,” Anne glances back at the TV, and for once is happy to see an empty plate, “glad that’s over.” Hop Pop removes his hands from Sprig’s eyes. Anne closes her own and relaxes a bit. Then, the server returns to the sitcom protagonists’ table. 

“We have one last meal for the evening,” the server places a new serving dish and removes the cloche once more, “escargot.”

“Escar-what now?” Hop Pop asked.

“Oh, that’s French for...” Anne’s eyes widen in knowing horror, “...snail.” She seriously needed to find that remote.

Hop Pop gives Anne a suspicious look. “And how come you knew what they meant?” Hop Pop rapidly gets more livid, “Really Anne, ya eat snails too?! And here I thought Bessie meant somethin’ ta ya!”

“What!?” Anne gasps, scandalized, “How could you Hop Pop?! You know I love Bessie like my own family!” Hop Pop softened hearing that, snapping out of his fear induced paranoia.

“Sorry Anne, you’re right. This sitcom thingy is really gettin’ in my head.” 

“Apology accepted. Wait, how’s Sprig holding-” Anne’s voice peaks as she sees Sprig’s huddled body rocking back and forth, staring at the massacre taking place on screen, “-UP?! SPRIG!” She rushes over to him. “Oh no. Don’t look! Just hold on buddy.” 

“But... I can’t look away. I want to, but I can’t!” This time the sitcom protagonists are totally disgusted with the food, a huge departure from the pleasant surprise they had with the frog legs. However, because the server has such an expectant look on their face, the protagonists keeps forcing down those snails.

“Wow, those people are acting like they got served Hop Pop’s cooking.”

“Polly!!” Anne and Hop Pop reprimand simultaneously.

“What? It’s true!” Polly is given The Look. “Fine fine, I know. ‘Think those thoughts, don’t say ‘em’.” Hop Pop looks proud for a moment, but then notices something on the screen and doubles back in horror.

“I can’t look, that one looks just like Micro-Angelo!” 

“Oh c’mon Hop Pop, they can’t look that similar.” Anne takes her eyes off the Plantars and looks back to the screen. Her eyes lock-on to the fork slowly delivering that innocent baby snail towards that horrifying monster’s mouth. She can practically hear the ‘meep’ of her sweet baby boy.

As if possessed, Anne keeps her body totally straight and speed walks up to the TV. She leans over, and feels for something on the side of it. Presses a button. And the screen goes black. 

She totally forgot you could turn it off that way.

“Yeah! Woo-hoo!!” The Plantars cheer and use their combined strength to lift up Anne, their savior, in glorious victory. Anne proudly lifts her arms up and cries tears of sweet relief.

Once the short celebration ends, and Anne is returned to the floor, she hugs the Plantars. “I’m so sorry you guys, I had no idea it was gonna be like that! I’ll make sure to be more careful next time.” 

“Aw, it wasn’t THAT bad.” Polly said, waving an arm to emphasize it really wasn’t that big a deal, “It was actually kind of fun seeing those two freak out so much.” 

“Yeah, pretty dark, but that’s nature for ya.” Hop Pop added to the reassurance train.

“Pretty sure that one’s gonna traumatize me for life, but I forgive you.” Anne still felt a bit guilty, but hearing Sprig’s words, along with the rest of the Plantars’, made her feel a lot better. “But please never show me anything like that ever again.”

“You got it buddy.” Anne brought Sprig back into a hug, and gave his head a little pat. While she didn’t have to witness most of it, Anne didn’t wanna see anything like that ever again either. So it should be an easy promise to keep.

“Hey Anne?”

“Yes Polly?”

“...Thanks for holding back and not eating us.”

Utterly frustrated, Anne’s voice once again reached a frankly impressive peak, “I NEVER WANTED TO EAT YOU GUYS!”

[floral-and-fine]

Endless Orange Part 2

Fred Weasley x fem reader

PART 1

Summary: Feeling lonely, fate leads Fred to a coffee shop. 

A/n: Thanks @luna-xial​ for all the help. 

“Morning George!” Fred greeted as he burst through the front door slightly out of breath and rushed up the stairs in the shop.

“You’re late,” George tutted, “might have to dock your pay, Weasley.”

Fred laughed, “Promise it won’t happen again, Mr. Weasley, sir.”

The shop was already bustling, groups of first years wandering around with their arms full of merchandise, girls giggling over the pygmy puffs and love potions, employees scurrying about.

“So what happened?” George questioned, it wasn’t like Fred to be late, ever.

“Nothing,” Fred shrugged, trying his best to act nonchalant. “Just had to stop at Gringotts on my way here.”

“What for?”

“Had breakfast with a goblin,” Fred joked. “What do you mean what for?”

“Well typically when you need money, you usually just take it from the register,” George reasoned.

Fred went quiet, his brother had a valid point after all. Gritting his teeth, Fred mentally kicked himself, for not thinking this through. Of course, George, being equally as clever, could tell something was up with him and most likely wasn’t going to drop the subject any time soon.

“Well?” George pressed. “It can’t be that bad?

Fred sighed, “I’ve got a date tonight.”

For the past few nights Fred continued visiting y/n at the coffee shop, she had been generous so far and treated him to free coffee and pastries with each visit.

But tonight, they had a real date and there was no way in hell he was showing up broke for that. So this morning he made a stop at Gringotts to acquire some muggle money.

George smiled, “that’s great! I was beginning to worry about you, all work and no play was making you like Percy, Fred.”

“Please, George, if I ever start acting like Percy, have the decency to put me out of misery!”

Both brothers chuckled, as they finally started working.

“Oi George! I’ve got a few ideas I want to run past you,” Fred beamed, turning to his brother. “What do you think of an ordinary-looking cushion, but when someone sits on it they break wind, and I mean literal wind, like a massive gust that could send a small child flying through the air!”

“That’s brilliant!” George exclaimed, “We could even offer a variety of scents! How did you come up with it?”

Fred chuckled, “you know how these things work, inspiration just strikes out of nowhere.”

As the day progressed, Fred began feeling antsy, he tried keeping himself busy working on a new display for his and George’s latest creation, but his mind kept wandering back to y/n.

In just a few short hours, he’d be sitting across from her, having a nice dinner. Maybe they could take a walk and find a nice place to sit. For a brief moment, he pictured cupping her cheek and kissing her, his stomach fluttered at the prospect.

“Fred,” George called out, suddenly snapping Fred out of his daydream. “You alright? You’ve been staring at the shelf for like 5 solid minutes.”

“I’m fine,” Fred grunted, getting back to work.

George smiled smugly. “Oh I see,” he hummed. “Fantasizing about a certain someone are we?”

Fred’s ears started turning red because of George’s teasing. “I-I wasn’t.”

George clapped his hand on his brother’s shoulder, “Why don’t you leave a little early, hm? Get your date some flowers or something.”

Fred opened his mouth to object but was immediately interrupted.

“Don’t argue,” George wagged his finger. “You let me leave early all the time.”

…

Fred appeared in front of y/n’s door a few minutes early. In his hand was the largest bouquet of flowers or at least a close second. He had insisted at the shop that his date needed a few of every flower they had in stock.

He had to admit when they handed him a bouquet the size of a small bush with flowers of practically every color and type, that maybe it was a bad idea... but still it could pay off.

Biting his lip, Fred knocked on her door and took a step back holding the flowers out in front of him.

The bewildered expression on y/n’s face as she answered the door convinced Fred that he had made the right choice.

“Fred?” She gasped, barely able to see his face past all the flowers.

“These are for you,” he said, handing her the bouquet.

“They’re… beautiful, there’s so many of them,” y/n commented as she looked at the massive bundle. Did she even have a vase big enough? “I’m gonna put these in some water.”

Fred tucked his hands in his pockets, he thought about following her inside but decided against it.

When she returned, Fred was finally able to get a good look at her. She was stunning, although she’s always looked lovely to him, even when she was working.

“You look incredible by the way,” Fred said, leaning forward to kiss her cheek.

“Thank you,” she muttered, giving him a quick peck in return. “You look incredible too.”

He was wearing another one of his suits that she found so interesting. This one was brown with olive green accents.

“Shall we?” Fred asked, offering his arm to y/n.

She nodded entwining her arm around his, “so where are we headed?”

“Well…” Fred muttered, tapping his index finger against his chin. “I was thinking we’d take a chance and find an interesting place nearby.”

“Alright,” y/n  laughed lightly. “Sounds like a plan.”

As they started idly walking along, Y/n looked up at Fred who had the biggest smile on his face. She couldn’t quite figure out why, but every time she was with him, his good mood just seemed infectious.

They must have looked like quite the pair, walking arm in arm as if they had all the time in the world. All the cars and other people around just seemed like a blur.

Occasionally, Fred’s head would turn to admire a window display that piqued his interest. It was so fascinating watching muggles go about their day, hailing cabs, drinking coffee as they briskly walked past. Each time he noticed anyone staring at him and y/n, he’d smile and wave.

He felt as though he was walking on air. He couldn’t even remember the last time he had been so excited on a date.

Fred abruptly stopped.

“What is it?” Y/n asked, tilting her head.

“Something smells fantastic,” he answered, inhaling deeply.

Whipping her around, y/n spotted a quaint little pub. “My guess it’s coming from there,” she said pointing it out to Fred.

Squeezing her hand tightly, Fred practically sprinted towards it, dragging her behind him.

Inside it was relatively crowded, a large group of people were gathered by the bar focused on the football game playing on the tele.

“Seat yourselves,” the bartender shouted at them.

Finding an empty table in the back, Fred pulled a chair out for y/n. “This place looks fun,” he commented, his eyes full of wonder as he took the seat beside her.

The waitress soon came by with menus and took their drink order.

Suddenly, loud cheers erupted from the bar, catching Fred’s attention.

“Are you a football fan?” Y/n asked.

“No,” he answered, still fixated on the screen as he tried to figure out the objective of the game and who this particular crowd was cheering for. “But I like being loud and competitive, so I could be.”

He watched as the players kicked the ball to each other, their footwork was quite impressive as they manipulated the ball across the field. A player from the opposing team with incredible speed snatched the ball and made a goal.

With impeccable timing, Fred shouted at the TV, “Rubbish!” His energy imitating those who were also booing, however, he seemed much more entertained and pleased by it all, rather than upset.

Y/n found herself wanting to join in on all the rowdiness as well. Gently, laying her hand over Fred’s, she focused on the game as well.

Moments later, their waitress served their food, and they chatted a bit as they ate, still paying attention to what was happening with the game.

Things started getting exciting as the scores between the teams were timed, Fred and y/n both jumped to their feet cheering as their team scored.

Without thinking, Fred wrapped an arm around y/n’s shoulders and pressed a kiss to her lips. She blinked in surprise, the kiss was short-lived and ending before she had a chance to respond.

“Y/n did you see that!” He shouted sitting back down. “That play was bloody brilliant.” He wondered if something similar could be accomplished in a quidditch game.

When the waitress dropped off the tab, Fred took out his wallet, figuring a couple of the largest notes he was given this morning ought to cover it. “Keep the change.”

The waitress hurriedly accepted, with a gracious thank you.

Y/n slightly gaped over the fact that he just gave their waitress an unexpectedly large tip, but quickly shut her mouth and decided not to question him over it.

He did seem like the generous type or at least the spontaneous type. In fact, he was absolutely unlike anyone she had ever met, carefree, charming, witty, confident, a little ridiculous but she loved that too. She gulped, realizing how much she already adored him.

Leaving the pub, y/n raised her arms above her head and sighed. It had gotten rather stuffy inside so she welcomed the cool refreshing night air.

“We should go to a game sometime,” Fred suggested thoughtfully. “We’ll do it right, with jerseys and face paint, the works.”

“That would be great!” Y/n nodded eagerly. “We’ll even buy some of those giant foam fingers, and get into a scuffle with another couple.”

He laughed, “I can't wait.”

For a moment, he pictured taking y/n to a quidditch game, getting the chance to watch her face light up as the teams flew in on broomsticks. But first, he’d have to tell her the truth, and he was far from ready for that.

Quietly, they started making their way back to y/n’s flat, but at the pace of a snail. Neither of them were quite ready for this date to end. As they got closer to her home, Y/n wracked her brain for an excuse to make the date last just a little longer.

“Dessert!” She shouted suddenly. “We should get ice cream! I know a place close by.”

Fred perked up at the suggestion, “lead the way.”

[dopescotlandwarrior]

Bluegrass-Chapter Seventeen

                     A special thanks to @statell​ for making my stories flow

Previous chapters at AO3

Chapter Seventeen

Claire was unnerved when she learned of the deliberate interference of the two jockeys. Jamie told her it was an isolated incident of an owner in New Jersey and described Runner’s protectiveness to bolster her courage. He had given in to Claire’s desire to enter the Kentucky Derby, so his demeanor changed, and he became her coach rather than her doubting boyfriend. There was one race in New York before the Derby, and it was an easy win for Runner. The famous Wood Memorial Stakes at Aqueduct Racetrack where the winning horse gained one hundred points and the purse was one million dollars. The whole world would be watching the remaining Derby contenders battle it out.

There would be two weeks between each of the remaining races and Michael adjusted Runner’s supplements to give the additional energy for such a tight racing schedule. This was when the rubber meets the road, he told Claire. There were two or three stakes races each weekend somewhere in the country, where Derby contenders would gain points if they won or wash out if they lost. Everything was in flux right now he told her. It was the most exciting time of the year for horse racing.

When they arrived in New York they were cocky and confident. Runner drew crowds wherever they landed which fueled Claire’s confidence and need to dominate the race. Runner was favored to win and all she had to do is stay in the saddle.

Claire felt nervous waiting for the race to start. She reached for her juice box and granola bar, not sure if it was her blood sugar or her nerves making her feel anxious and shaky. Jamie grabbed her hand to walk her outside where she waved to the yelling spectators before being launched into the saddle. She was feeling a bit better when a track pony brought her to the gate and Runner loaded without an issue.

There were only eight horses in the Wood Memorial Stakes and Runner was coming out of post position two, statistically proven to launch the most winners. Claire was ready to leave everyone in her dust and take home the winner’s cut of the million-dollar prize money and 100 qualifying points.

When the gate opened, Runner jumped into his lane and quickly passed one horse at a time until he was neck and neck with the third-place horse. To Claire, he was conserving his strength until the dash to the finish line. When Runner did not accelerate after the second turn Claire knew something was wrong. He seemed to be giving all he had just to maintain his third position. As the finish line approached, the lead horse was seven lengths ahead and there was no time to catch him. They wouldn’t win, they couldn’t win, and she felt the shock of that truth run through her body.

Claire’s brain turned off the roar of the crowd, and it became silent. It turned off the thundering hooves and all other noise except her own breathing and Runner’s. When she crossed the finish line in third place all the noise came crashing back into her head as Runner slowed to a trot immediately.

It was very hard to comprehend losing the race because she had complete confidence Runner would win. A track pony took her reins and delivered her to the men waiting, all looking grim. Jason walked the big colt until he cooled off and Jamie pulled Claire into the shade. She cried on his shoulder as he reassured her it was just one race, and Runner would be ready for the Derby in two weeks.

Jason noticed Runner tossed his head when the bit moved even slightly from Jason holding the reigns. It was clear he was in pain and Jason got the horse back to Claire right away. Pulling the bridal off hurt so much he reared in protest and refused to open his mouth. Claire grabbed the bridal and put her hand on his neck. She told him to relax, no one would force him and in ten minutes she asked him to open his mouth when he was ready. He finally did and the pain was so obvious Claire winced.

She could feel the fever in his muzzle and chest and felt panic creeping up her spine. When she could finally look in his mouth the giant abscess dropped down from the roof of his mouth the size of a golf ball and full of pus. She realized the bit had rubbed against the pressure and pain throughout the race.

He was given an injection of pain killer and antibiotics by the track veterinarian who helped hold him for Claire to lance the abscess and flush it with Hydrogen Peroxide. It was a very painful procedure, but Claire was fast and thorough alleviating the pressure the instant she cut into the bulging balloon and Runner settled down for the remainder of the procedure.

They all thanked the track vet for his assistance and packed up to fly Runner home. The reporter from Sports Illustrated strolled through the stalls and caught the last few minutes of the surgery. He expected something like this and caught Jason in the aisle telling him to shake Runner’s hay and check the wood chips in his stall for razor blades, pins, or burs. He had seen the near collision of the race in New Jersey and thought it prudent to check for foul play.

Jamie and Claire drove Runner to the airport and explained the abscess and surgery to the handlers. Once Runner was dozing in his transport stall the captain came in and spoke to them running his hand down the colt’s neck. Claire kissed his nose softly and told him to sleep tight.

When they returned to Aqueduct to pick up the guys, both Michael and Jason poured huge sharp burs found in the hay and floor, into Jamie’s hand. There were six burs that drew blood when Jamie pushed his finger into the points. Jamie looked up at the numerous cameras throughout the building and went to find the barn manager.

Before boarding the plane, Jamie called Rupert to warn him they would be picking up a drunk Colt with a sore mouth. Rupert sounded crushed they lost the race but assured Jamie they would be extra gentle with the laddie.

Claire was quiet on the trip back to Kentucky. After checking the foals and Runner she just wanted to go to the house and sit in silence for a while. Jamie kissed her before she got out of his truck and promised to be quick with his chores.

Claire sat on the patio and admired the stars shining brightly above her. She replayed the race, minute by minute, and decided the only reason they did not win was the pain in Runner’s mouth. They all knew from that point forward; Runner would be guarded while away at a race and they would provide their own food and hay. She felt completely exhausted and leaned her head back on the lounge. She would not let this discourage her from the Derby. They had two weeks to heal his mouth and they would be unbeatable again.

Jamie sifted through his mail quickly, wanting to get back home and relax with Claire. He almost missed it, the envelope from the Kentucky racing commission. Thinking he had forgotten one of the many fees required for the Derby he opened the envelope and felt his heart fall into his stomach. He launched from his chair and ran to catch Michael.

“She has raced at Churchill Downs twice, why is this coming up now?” Michael’s face was red and his eyes bugged out. “This is bullshit!”

Jamie looked at the floor. His heart was beating hard enough to give him a heart attack, so he took deep breaths and tried to calm down.

“I don’t know who is behind her disqualification, but I know what to do about it Jamie. Tell Claire I’m on this and to keep the faith. I’ll see ya tomorrow.”

The snail’s pace at which Jamie walked from his truck to the house broke land speed records. It was that slow. He would pay any price to keep this information from Claire but there was no way out from this truth. It was still difficult to breathe and he stopped at the garage and bent over to steady himself, before he found Claire and broke her heart.

She was walking somewhere feeling peaceful and happy when a little girl handed her a bouquet of beautiful flowers. She smiled at the girl and thanked her pulling one rose out of the bunch and handing it to her. The sun was so warm, but her cheek was suddenly very cool. Jamie’s hand on her cheek brought her quickly out of her dream and she smiled at him for the nine seconds it took to register the sadness in his eyes. She sat up quickly.

“What is it, Jamie?”

She saw the rims of his eyes, deep red from tears that were coming, and felt alarms going off in her head. She wanted to run and get away from the pain she knew was coming.

“Is it Runner? The foals? Is anyone hurt?”

Jamie grabbed both of her hands and fought his emotion until he could calmly speak. It was no more than a whisper.

“Ye’ve been disqualified from the Derby lass. Your jockey license does not meet the requirements of the track because you’re an apprentice. The Kentucky Horse Racing authority states there is no appealing this ruling. Runner can enter the race with a qualified jockey, but we both know that won’t happen.”

“Jamie?”

He could hear her voice, still strong, still hopeful, and he hated the world at that moment because there were no options.

“I’m sorry, love. Michael said he was on it and left, but the letter is clear, there is no appeal.”

Claire launched out of the lounge, suddenly very awake, fighting the urge to scream about her own helplessness and the cruel forces that stole her dream of winning the Kentucky Derby.

“He is Horse of the Year for Christ’s sake. How can they disqualify him?” She spoke softly like she couldn’t summon the strength for more volume.

Runner is not disqualified, only you sweetheart. When he doesn’t race, the world will be very unkind and make up their own reasons. I found dozens of comments online about the Wood Memorial. People are sayin it’s a fault in his breeding, findin all kinds of other reasons for his loss.

He reached for Claire and she hugged him with the dawning knowledge of what he was losing too. They held each other up until they could walk upstairs and said not another word about it. What could be said?

Runner’s mouth healed with no more sign of infection by the following week. He repeatedly tried to engage Claire, but she was in her own head and quiet with everyone else in the barn. She just didn’t have anything to say. Each morning brought her one day closer to the most famous race in the history of horse racing and she couldn’t go. She couldn’t get the knot out of her stomach or concentrate on anything else but the race she would miss. The town was energized with the upcoming festivities that were broadcast from radio shows and city news continuously. It was enough to drive her mad, so she just shut down.

Michael never came back after the night he read the commission’s letter. He said he would fix this and then vanished. It felt like the final insult to Jamie, but reminded himself that Michael was here to write the story of Midnight Runner, and if he didn’t enter the Derby there wasn’t much to write about.

Jamie and the other guys tried to pull Claire out of her funk until she begged them to let her be. She apologized for being moody and promised to bounce back if they would just leave her alone. She promised Jamie she would feel better when the race was over and then went back into her head.

The last foal dropped on Thursday night. Claire delivered the filly late at night with Jamie’s assistance. The Derby was two days away. When she tried to smile at him the corners of her mouth quivered a bit and he could plainly see she felt no smile on the inside.

Jamie set up his cot near the stalls and went to find Claire. He almost missed her standing behind Runner who was still as a statue and very awake.

“Sassenach?”

He pulled her to him and she sobbed like her very life was draining away. All he could do is hold her and pull her to his cot so he could wrap himself around her. When he heard the steady breathing of his sleeping love, he said the Gaelic prayer for courage, strength, and love. He said it for her so she could find her happiness when this nightmare was over. He slept little so she would feel his grip on her through the night. His wounded love.

The next morning, the big doors opened with a crash bringing both Jamie and Claire to their feet in seconds. Both blinking against the morning light wondering what catastrophe had befallen them now.

“Jamie! Jamie!! Go find him squirt and hurry. Jamie, goddammit, where are you?!”

“What the devil is this about?” Jamie growled at Michael, “what’s happened to ye?”

“I have been pounding on your front door for thirty minutes. Finally decided you were already here. Where the hell is Claire? Me and Jason will be twiddling our thumbs out there waiting for our rider. We have some work to do, so where is she?”

“What are ye doin Michael? There is no more racin and I’m sure ye remember that.”

Claire sat on the cot and listened with little interest in Michael’s ranting.

“Oh, sorry, what the fuck is wrong with me? Here.”

Jamie took the new license and studied the signature from the racing authority. It was a Journeyman’s license and looked legitimate but that was impossible.

“What trickery is this Michael?”

“No tricks, promise. The journeyman license has requirements for races, time in the saddle, experience on the track and with other horses, among other things. Poor Claire had no handlers to workout the Colt because he wouldn’t allow it. Consequently, she logged enough hours in the saddle, on the track, and in the race to qualify for Journeyman.”

Jamie stared at the license waiting for it to suddenly turn to dust and blow away. “How did ye do it?”

Michael smiled at Jamie, “the governor’s dad and my old man go way back. I grew up around their family and the governor himself was my babysitter on several occasions. It took a week and a half to see him, but I told him about Claire and Runner, the unique circumstances of their partnership, I avoided the whole talking to animals thing. I told him they deserve a space in the gate tomorrow. He agreed and we met with the Kentucky Horse Racing Authority and figured out how she could qualify for a Journeyman’s license. That is how I did it.”

The men saw Claire run by them like a streak. Ten minutes later she was pulling her helmet on and walking toward them with a beautiful blush in her cheeks.

“I love you Michael and I have the rest of my life to thank you, but right now we need to ride. The race starts in twenty-eight hours, let’s go.”

Claire was off toward Runner’s stall and came racing back to kiss Jamie hard and show him a brilliant smile.

“We run for the roses tomorrow, just like we planned, my precious love.” Then she was gone, leaving a smiling Rupert and Angus in her wake.

Jamie stood rooted to the ground, shaking his head and enjoying the moment. There would be time to panic trackside tomorrow, this was too good to ruin. He decided at that moment to host a celebration, tomorrow night, win or lose it would celebrate the perseverance and dedication of a phenomenal woman and horse. One way or another he would see it done.

Michael watched Runner with excitement. The rest made him a bit hot, but he used the energy for speed and Claire could hardly keep him breezing. It was a great workout and Michael told Claire she would be in the money tomorrow with him running like that.

“Actually Michael, I plan to win tomorrow but thank you for the good wishes.”

When Jamie finally got Claire into bed that night, she seemed tired enough to sleep filling him with relief. The enormity of the race tomorrow was mind-boggling to him. Of the billions of people in the world, only twenty-two are chosen each year to compete on a track of superstar Thoroughbreds. Because the Derby was open only to three-year-olds, those horses that didn’t make the cut lost the opportunity forever. Jamie held her close until her breathing became deep and even. He stopped thinking and dropped into the void.

Jamie’s sleep became fitful later in the night and he turned to hold his Sassenach only to find an empty bed. It took a while to find her and he approached quietly and listened to her grill Runner while she paced the aisle. He could see Porcelain’s big eyes watching Claire, and Runner, like a new recruit standing at attention. She looked like a funny little commander pacing in her robe and slippers and Jamie’s chuckle made her stop and look up.

“Suppose ye let Runner sleep a bit before the big race mo chridhe. I’m lonely for ye.”

The Kentucky Derby is a race like no other as people come from all over the world in their finery and decorative hats to witness the race and socialize. One hundred fifty thousand spectators fill every seat, inside and out, including celebrities from movie stars to Saudi princes. The infield is a giant party for the who’s who and a bank of photographers sit patiently along the side of the track. The event is bigger than the Super Bowl or the World Series, all steeped in history and tradition.

Claire was overwhelmed by the enormity of the event and found it hard to focus on the horses she would have to beat. When she was ready to mount for the parade and warm-up, Jamie stopped her and whispered in her ear.

“This is a once in a lifetime race for both of ye Sassenach, so feel every minute of it. Just gettin here means yer a winner so be proud of him and yerself lass and know how much I love ye.” He kissed her softly, “one more thing, the colt runs like a fat cow. Tell him I said so.”

Claire’s lead pony was waiting and pulled Runner’s reins to wrap around the horn of his saddle. When Runner started to act up, he would pull his head to the pony’s to settle him down. Claire was released to warm up and she looked at the staggering amount of people and felt the deafening noise they were making. She hoped Runner would relax a bit and stay in a safe range with all this noise, and color.

Runner was hot as they ponied to the gate. He was ready to explode from high-calorie food all week and too much rest. There was some acting out getting loaded into the gate as he reared up and told them to leave him alone. Claire waved the handlers back and asked them to let him load without the manhandling. He felt tense waiting for the bell and Claire willed the doors to slam open so she could direct all his extra energy. Each minute seemed like an hour.

Claire wrapped Runner's mane through her fingers and prepared to get off his back. She had spent several hours talking to him about winning by the space between him and the next horse, trying to make him understand it was not only beating the individual horses that mattered. Runner was looking for Sham and Angle Light, making Claire nervous about him acting up before they could get out of the gate.

“Jamie said you run like a fat cow. Just sayin”

The doors slammed open in the next minute and twenty-one horses made a mad dash for the track. When Runner jumped out, she could feel his extra energy and she watched for the best way through the mess of horses ahead.

Runner was doing little more than keeping pace with the pack until the first turn when he broke to the outside and picked up his speed. He stayed on the outside down the backstretch passing horses, one after the other. He overtook the pack and headed for the front seven horses. Claire could see Sham was in third place coming out of the second turn and they were still five horses behind him. Runner was increasing his speed and she tucked tight going into the home stretch. She watched horse after horse fade away in a blur as Runner accelerated toward the lead horse. He didn’t dawdle and run neck and neck like he usually did, it was all business today as she felt him accelerate one last time.

The noise from the crowd, the thundering hooves, and the loudspeaker barking the positions of the horses, all went away. Claire knew they were lengths ahead of the other horses and stretched her arms to allow the maximum lengthening of Runner’s stride. She watched the finish line come closer, scared shitless another horse would zoom past her and take the glory. She couldn’t help herself from yelling at Runner to hurry. The finish line was five feet ahead and she felt his front legs reach forward like in slow motion and saw the flash of the camera. She turned her head to the left and saw no other horse. She turned her head to the right and saw no other horse.

Claire was not processing anything during the next minute. She was trying to slow Runner down and looking around her at the other horses and jockeys sporadically spaced. So the race was over and I don’t know what to do now, she thought. As she came around the turn she saw Jamie and Michael jumping as high as they could and pointing at her. She started crying when she looked at Jamie. She could read his lips and see his incredible face. Jamie says I won, she thought and in the next second the deafening noise of the crowd came back and she heard the announcer say “the winner, Midnight Runner, by three lengths.

“Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God! Runner! You won, you won!! You won the Kentucky Derby!! Jesus H Roosevelt Christ, we just won the Kentucky Derby! She pulled on his mouth to slow him down and stood triumphantly in her stirrups, crop held high, rubbing her sleeve over her eyes to see the crowd through her gushing tears. When Runner had slowed to a trot, she found the governor who had abandoned his fancy observation box to get closer to the track.

Claire pulled Runner to a stop in front of the governor and unsnapped her helmet. Her hands were shaking so hard she could barely manage, but she pulled off her helmet in a salute as her tears flowed down her dirty cheeks. Her eyes locked with his for a brief moment and he nodded to her and smiled.

“Your team is busting at the seams Claire, let’s get you to the winner’s circle.”

Her favorite handler and his pony guided Runner to the incredulous faces of Jamie, Michael, and Jason. Claire tried to stop crying as they draped Runner in the garland of roses. Claire felt every moment like it was a sole event and smiled through her tears at the camera followed by a bank of cameras that flashed continuously. Runner was a stunning gentleman, watching the weird goings-on of the people all around him. He was telling them all that he was the fastest horse but only Claire heard him. She dropped her body down on his neck, “you are the greatest horse that ever lived.”

When Claire sat back in her saddle the reporters asked what she just said to the horse, making her laugh. When she slid into Jamie’s arms there were cameras flashing and questions shouted. As she hugged each man on her team the cameras caught it all. They were clamoring for her attention until she walked over to Runner and placed her cheek against his head so she could thank him. The reporters were suddenly quiet but the air around them flashed continuously and didn’t stop.

The reporters were pressing in making Claire feel like she couldn’t breathe. Jamie tried to steer her away, but she gave a look that said she was fine to stay. She just won the Kentucky Derby, after all, the first woman in history. She could stay for a while.

It was many interviews and hours later before they had Runner packed up and loaded into the trailer. Claire was so high she had trouble feeling her feet as she walked, and her smile looked as permanent as Jamie’s.

Jamie and Claire walked toward Runner’s wing and Jamie held her hand to make sure she didn’t get away. When they turned the corner a table had been set up next to the stalls and a crowd of people stood up and said surprise! One by one, her friends gave hugs and congratulations. Michael, Jason, the governor, racing commissioner, Molly, Lulu, Angus and Rupert. The people kept coming and Claire saw a blonde head at the end of the table sitting next to Molly. She kept watching that direction as she hugged more and more people. When the hugging stopped, Molly stood up and pulled the arm of the blonde until he stood up.

And there he was.

Dusty blushed crimson as he approached and hugged his dearest friend. Claire was completely overwhelmed by this and refused to let him go. It was a hug worth a whole year to both of them and Claire cried with happiness. Dusty shook hands with Jamie and the barn personnel he remembered, checking his watch every other minute. When they all sat down to eat a catered dinner arranged the night before by Jamie, Dusty was gone and Claire’s heart sank.

“Molly, where is Dustin?”

“He is coming right back, maybe thirty minutes. He has something important to do.”

Molly’s voice was relaxed and nonchalant, so Claire dropped it and fed her ravenous hunger stealing kisses from Jamie between bites. The governor and commissioner nibbled a bit and excused themselves from the party. Claire shook both their hands and with tears rolling down her cheeks, again, she thanked them from the bottom of her heart.

Returning to the table she had five minutes to relax before Dusty walked back in, holding the hand of a tiny girl with long blonde hair and big blue eyes. She was introduced as Dusty’s wife and Claire shot out of her chair to hug the stuffing out of her while Dusty laughed. It was quite a shock to everyone but Molly who had become Dusty’s dear friend over the hours and hours of phone calls. Molly knew Dusty’s story, from his heartbreaking love for Claire, through his lonely months at school when he wanted to quit, to his new found love. It was Molly who pulled him through and encouraged him to approach the girl named Summer.

Claire looked from Dusty to Summer with a brilliant smile. “You two look like shiny new pennies.”

“And they both have a 4.0!” Molly added.

After much food and drink the stories started and each of Claire’s good friends had something hilarious to tell, including Jamie who recounted Claire’s drunk phone call a very long time ago. Molly and Lulu were complicit with their giggling. Dustin told them all how he toppled Claire’s yoga position by honking his horn and had to speak to her cowboy boots when she did a headstand where she fell.

Claire watched Dustin talk, smile, and remember a day in their life together a long time ago. She was so proud of him and couldn’t wait to catch up on every single moment of his life during the past year. Deep down she knew, had always known, what kept him away and she was so happy he found such a perfect partner to share his life with.

The caterers were cleaning up and carrying everything to their van. On the last trip, they brought an enormous cake with sparklers all over it. Claire was crying again when she read “Kentucky Derby Winner” and below that, “1st woman in history.” She walked over to Runner and pressed her face into his neck, thanking him for making her a winner, just like he promised so many months before. She was seeing sugar cubes in her mind and laughed at his hopeful face before running to Jamie’s office to get handfuls for the most amazing horse that ever lived. Her best four-legged friend.

[fireteam-dauntless]

A Tale of Two Guardians XVIII

Part 1 of the Destined Series. Chapter 18 : The Breach masterlist

word count : 2.4K tag list : @mail-me-a-snail @basically-nacl

After a short walk down another hallway we came out to a giant hole in the Dreadnaught, and a crashed Cabal warship.  There were bullets flying everywhere, but most of the fight was centralized where the ship had crashed.  We look around in both shock and awe at the spectacle.

“A Cabal ship, Skyburners colors. Must have deployed from Phobos,”  Maverick observed.

The Vanguard channel lit up but only from Cayde’s end.  “Cabal? We’ll deal with them later. Secure that transmat zone,”  the Hunter Vanguard said.

We all headed toward the breach and planted the transmat beacon far enough from the fighting to go undetected and a large enough area for full fireteams to be able to land.  As we start to head back, we all heard the distinctive screech of Hive rifts opening up.  Tomb ships start pouring into the breach.  At least five or six ships came in to drop off a small strike force of Hive.  When the rifts reopened and the Tomb ships began to leave, alarms rang out from the Cabal ship and it let out a small defense force, which included a Goliath tank, to repel the Hive attack.

“Transmat zone is up and running, Cayde,”  Skinner said.

“I’m going to bring our ship around.” Maverick’s Ghost said, to which Skinner’s and my Ghosts agreed and brought our ships around as well.

“Hey Zavala, want to see what a transmat zone on the Dreadnaught looks like?” Cayde said smugly.

Zavala joined the Vanguard channel and his voice was thick with frustration and anger.  “You landed a Guardian on the Dreadnaught without authorization?!”

“And not just a Guardian, a whole fireteam, but that’s beside the point. Oh, and can I have authorization?”

“We’ll discuss this later,”  the Awoken Vanguard grumbled.  “Guardians, destroy that tank, or the transmat zone won’t matter.”

“I’ll bring down some ammo crates down from the ship. You’re going to need them.” My Ghost said.

“Alright, Storm,”  Maverick said and turned to me.  “Have you ever fought a Goliath tank before?” I asked.

“Once… I think.  Honestly, I’m not totally sure.”

“Alright then, Skinner, you take a vantage point up on the broken hull up there.  Storm we’re going to get closer to that tank.”

“But why do we have to get close to that tank?”  I asked.  I would think that we wouldn’t want to get close to that thing.

“Because Skinner is the only one that has long range weapons.  Even then, we’re going to hang back a little and let the Cabal and Hive kill each other.  Who knows maybe they’ll destroy the tank for us.”

Maverick and I hung back behind some Cabal shipment crates and Skinner took position up above the cabal ship, where he was just barely out of sight.  The battle between the Cabal and Hive raged on, but we mainly kept our focus on the Goliath.  Two or three Tomb ships entered the battlefield and buffed the Hive numbers with reinforcements.  It dropped out four or five Ogres and a handful of Knights.

“That tank isn’t going to hold up against those Ogres.” Maverick commented.

“You really think so?” I asked.

“One Ogre sure it’s an easy win for the tank.  But four or five like right now?  I doubt that the tank can kill them all.  Besides, those Ogres have Knight support.”

“Well I hope not,” Skinner said.  “I really want to shoot something.”

“Let’s not attract attention we don’t need,” Mav chided.

“Fine.”

It went on for what felt like hours but after a little bit some of the Ogres began to fall but the tank was beginning to struggle to stay mobile.

“Can I take the shot Mav?” Skinner asked.  We looked up at him and saw the red flare that was his scope.  He was staring down it, likely with his finger already on the trigger.

“Not yet, Skinner.  There’s still too many of them.”

“Ugh. You’re no fun,”  the Hunter complained.

“Fine go ahead get yourself killed.  Then I’ll laugh at you.”

“Okay then, I’ll…”

Before he could finish, the tank began to overheat and then began to explode.

“YAY! Finally I can kill things!”  Skinner said with glee and began to pick off the stragglers

“Alright let’s go and kill the rest, Storm,” Maverick commanded and I nodded.  We headed toward the ship, cutting down the remaining Cabal and Hive with ease.  They were worn out from fighting each other and they certainly didn’t expect to see Guardians coming in to join the battle.  As the last fighter dropped, Zavala came through.

“Guardians, Cayde just briefed us on your… unorthodox mission. Your victory no matter the method is a Vanguard victory. You have our thanks.”

“Everyone loves a bad idea when it works.”  Cayde said.  “Now, excuse me Guardians, I have to go have an uncomfortable conversation with Eris about her ship.  Get home safe.”

We all headed back toward the Hull Breach to call our ships to head home.  As we got up to the Transmat zone, I saw Maverick run off into a little crevice.  I followed him, mostly to make sure he didn’t get himself killed.  This place was crawling with Hive still.

"Whatcha got there Mav?" I asked him when he stood and turned around.

"Oh you know a small souvenir for home"  He said and waved a small piece of something in front of me.

"Yeah… okay sure.”  I let it slide as we walked back up to the trasmat zone, but my voice was obviously cynical.

We all got in our respective ships.  I collapsed in my chair and pulled off my helmet.  “Ugh, I still smell like Hive,” I complained to my Ghost.

“Something else is bothering you, isn’t it?”

I paused for a moment and sighed.  “It’s just… what Maverick said back there.  That’s all.  I can’t stop thinking about what he said, that he thought he killed Crota.  He said that his team failed and that was why he lost them.  I don’t know…”

“Don’t worry about it, Guardian,”  my Ghost said.  “I’m sure it was just a slip of the lip or something.

The private channel lit up and Maverick started talking as we entered slipspace back to the Tower.  "Good shit guys, now let's go home and take a much needed break."

"I couldn't agree more." Skinner said.

“I just want to shower,”  I said disdainfully.  “I smell like Hive from that stupid ship.”

Maverick and Skinner both laughed loudly.  “Yeah, I think we all do,”  Maverick said.  “But at least you two can do something about it.”

We all exited the channel as we got into range of the City.  We landed in the Tower and were greeted by Cayde.

“There’s my favorite Guardians!” He exclaimed as we gathered.  “Now that we have other Guardians landing, we can do a little more to find out about the Skyburners that crashed into the Dreadnaught and how to take down Oryx.  Zavala agreed to let you guys get a few days off since you just risked more than your lives to do this for me.  Now, I have to hide before Eris kills me for letting her ship get destroyed.  Bye!”  He waved off and started to run away.  

We started to walk back up to the Tower plaza, and Skinner wrapped an arm around each of our shoulders.  “Look at us, getting ready to kill a Hive God.  It feels great to be back in the field again.”

“Yes, it does,” I agreed and pulled Skinner’s arm from around me. 

“I’m going drinking tonight, who wants to come with me?”  Skinner had an excited look on his face like a kid in a candy store.

“I’ll pass,”  Maverick said.

“Same here.  I’ve got a painting to finish up and some pent up aggression to let out on the annoying white walls of my new place.”

“Okay, I get it, no one wants to get drunk with me.”  Skinner waved off and took the elevator down to the City, and closed the doors before we could get inside.

Maverick and I stood side by side now, and the silence between us was a little tense.  I shifted a bit uncomfortably.  

“What’s wrong?”  he asked me quietly.

“It’s nothing,”  I said in a soft voice.  “I just… can’t stop thinking about what you said about Crota.  You told me you and your team failed, so wouldn’t that mean he’s alive?”

Maverick sighed.  “Yes.  We did get to battle him.  That’s how I knew we had to use the sword.  But… it’s complicated, okay?”

I laughed softly.  “I understand complicated, don’t worry.”

I started to walk away, but Maverick grabbed onto me.  I stopped and turned to face him.  His crimson eyes stared into mine and his mouth was opened a bit like he wanted to say something, but the words just wouldn’t come out.  “Genny…”

“Yes?”

“How would you feel about going away from here for a few days?”

I stared at him in both shock and disbelief.  I could feel my cheeks warming with blush.  “I’m sorry?”

“Do you want to get away from the Tower and the City for a few days?  With me?”  His voice shook for a moment like he was trying to get the words out right.  Was a senior Guardian really asking me to go out on a date with him and just disappear for a few days together?

I blinked a couple of times and smiled softly.  “Of course,” I said quietly.  “I’d love to.”

His entire composure relaxed and his grip on my arm loosened.  “Good.  Meet me in the hanger tomorrow morning.  I’ll let you go and get whatever you want done.”

“But… Where are we going?” I asked before he could walk away.  

He turned back to me and grinned.  “Venus.”

I smiled wide.  He and I both loved Venus for different reasons.  “Okay.  I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

I took the elevator down to the Last City and walked home.  The moment I walked inside I stripped off my armor and took a nice long hot shower until I couldn’t smell Hive on my hair.  I pulled on some loose fitting clothes and sat down at my easel.  My painting of Maverick was almost finished, so I called in an order for some spicy ramen from the shop down the road, then sat down and got to work.

About twenty minutes later, there was a knock at the door.  I set down my brush and wiped my hands on my paint-stained pants to clean them off.  I opened the door, money in hand, but it wasn’t the delivery guy.  

“Maverick!”  I exclaimed and my cheeks instantly flushed.  I was in a paint stained white shirt and gray sweats, and I could feel the paint that ended up on my cheek and forehead.  “I didn’t know you were coming by.”

“Well, I tried to reach you, but your communications must be off.”

I shrugged.  “I asked my Ghost to block out all calls, I didn’t want to be distracted.”

“Oh, sorry,” he apologized.  An awkward silence fell between us for a moment.  “Um… can I come in?”

“Oh!  Of course!  Sorry, I was waiting for food to get here when you knocked and now everything feels super awkward.”

I let Maverick in, and I could feel my face heating up quickly.  I knew he was going to see the painting and my brain was going into panic mode as I closed the door.  “Ghost,” I whispered quietly through my teeth.  “Why didn’t you tell me he was trying to call me?!”

She just stared at me.  “You said you didn’t want to be bothered by anyone!”

“Yes!  Exactly!  Maverick tends to show up if I don’t answer or call him back!  Ugh, forget it.”

I followed Maverick into the living room and sure enough, she was standing in front of the easel, staring at the painting.  I bit the inside of my cheek as he turned to look at me, and ducked my head down to hide my flushed face.

“You…. You’ve been painting me?”  He asked quietly.

I shifted a bit uncomfortably and pulled the neckline of my shirt back over my shoulder.  “Yes, but… I didn’t want you to just find out about it…”

“Storm…”

Just then the doorbell rang and I held up my hands.  “Hold that thought, my food is actually here now.”  I turned and made a beeline for the door faster than I’ve run away from hoards of Thrall.  This embarrassment was worse than being chased by an angry Ogre.  I paid the man and took my ramen into the kitchen.  I set everything down on the counter, but before I could reach for a bowl Maverick appeared behind me and gently turned me around to face him.  I was still blushing madly and I looked away from him.  He knows me better, so he caught my chin and made me look at him again.  

“Storm… I like it,” he said quietly as he brushed some of my silver white hair out of my face.  “I’m not mad or anything like that.”

“I-I know,” I stuttered quietly.  I closed my eyes and leaned my head against his hand.  “I just… I wanted to show you once it was completed.”

Maverick placed his hands on my hips and lifted me up until I was sitting on the countertop.  Our faces were level with each other now and he ran a hand through the back of my hair.  “Don’t worry,” he said quietly.  “I still want to see it when it’s done.”

“Mav…”

“Don’t speak.”

“Why are you here?”

He paused a moment and gazed down.  “Let’s just say Zavala called a meeting with me after you left and I hate sitting in debriefings.”

I smiled a bit and held his face in my hands.  “Well, you are always welcome here.”

“Good.”

Before I could respond to him, he grabbed onto my wrist so I wasn’t holding his face anymore, leaned in and kissed me.  I stiffened for a short moment out of surprise, but then melted into him, like ice into fire.  His kiss was warm and gentle, compared to his grip on my sides, which was like iron.  As if he was scared that if he let me go then I would slip away.

When we parted, I placed my hand on his chest.  “Mav…” I whispered softly.  “I am not going anywhere.”

“Thank you.”

“But I would like to eat something before I keel over from starvation because I am fucking hungry.”

He laughed aloud and helped me down from the counter.  “Okay, I get it.  I’ll leave you be now.  See you in the morning, Storm.”

[tardisman14]

Some episode ideas that never made it into Gravity Falls (text below in case pictures don’t load (italicized comments are mine)):

Dipper and Mabel are pretty good and actually kind of respect them now. (guessing this was the last part of one from a previous page)

The BIG THING is in town...redneck owner taunts Stan. Mocks him in front of other tourists. Stan feels washed up? Or tells the kids to go spy on the BIG THING?

Episode with They Might Be Giants voicing ACTUAL GIANTS. Huge footprints in forest get Dipper curious. And he and Wendy go out to find out the source? Whats the story here? They can cause earthquakes?

Superpowers- Episode where something gives Mabel super strength. Dipper gets the ability to make his enemies grow hair. Or something random and stupid. Soos gets the power of lightning. Wendy can control animals? But only snails or something? (I think Alex might have mentioned this in one of the commentaries, I might have enjoyed this)

Pacifica needs the kids help- against her better judgement. Something went missing from daddy’s mansion. Hates them but is going to get in trouble, lose her credit card privileges, etc. Dipper helps her but hates her. She meanwhile tries to seduce Dipper to learn something, and he tells her off LOUD and VISCERAL. You are what’s wrong with this world. She’s hurt, but also impressed. And Kinda likes him now. No one talks to her that way. We learn that she’s more human than we thought. It turns out she’s under a LOT of pressure from her parents? Still is terrible though. (looks like elements from this one made it into “Northwest Mansion Mystery”)

RumorCrunchers (Mythbusters) come to town and Stan doesn’t want his Shack getting debunked on state-wide television.

Story where horrible new mayor causes intense censorship. Where we can stick it to censors for being the bain of existence. (HA!)

Durland has book and can’t read

Mabel gets good at miming )

“Christmas” Special- Starts with Stan blanketing town in snow trying to free mammoth. Maybe THIS is where we do our THE THING parody? Or maybe something more horrifying? Must defy everything we hold dear about the holidays. (glad we at least got THE THING parody in “Into the Bunker”)

“The Fly”- Dippers fly is always down. Turns out this is caused by the ghost of a kid he used to always mock in elementary school. He’s getting what he deserved for tormenting the guy. In order for him to let the curse go Dipper has to get the ghost what the ghost wants- a date with his sister or whatever. (Dipper does not end up caring what people think about his fly, and not caring makes him impossible to mock? Etc?)

Stan builds a Computer- Explores Dippers obsession with the internet, which he misses, and Stan’s phobia of technology. Computer leads to fascinating horror. But what? Kids really need to check their internet things.

Scary-Oke- Story which begins with kids needing to sing karaoke song together, somehow involves them using karaoke to (page covered) whatever in the end (okay, so THIS one got made)

Harryhausen Episode- Season Two’s “Fight (page covered) Stan fighting off 30 claymation skeletons (page covered) giant crab? Robot Owl? Something (page covered) (seeing bits from “Little Gift Shop of Horrors” and “Soos and the Real Girl”)

[dentelle-grise]

Your Latest Trick - chapter 30

Summary: Long after everyone has stopped talking about Loki and his misdemeanors, his failed attempt to take over Midgard and his punishment, you meet him at a party. (Loki x Reader NSFW)

Chapter 30  Pursuit in the snow

First chapter here (can be read as a oneshot) All chapters to date at AO3 (72.5K, NC-17)

Tagging my rebloggers, commenters and other folk who asked. Please let me know if you want in (or out) of the list: @joanbushur, @frenchfrostpudding, @lovely-geek, @wolfsmom1, @sigridlaufeyson, @lokislonelylady, @monitoroutside, @daniissuchadani, @devilbat, @deadlydreamersecrets @helenisabel, @stardustandangelsfanfiction, @ely-seum, @wendyrobson1978, @the-ships-i-ship, @shemart101, @dreamourbrainout, @sadghostomg, @lokilover2000, @blobfishington, @lynneth1968-blog, @deaddecade, @nardo94, @tom-fucking-hiddleston-1981, @ashesandfire, @imagines-of-the-fandom​, @beingrandomisfun​, @tomsragnarok, @skulliebythesea, @bubbles8231999, @jesuisunthot, @all-of-teh-fandoms, @atreqhukea  

Chapter 30

You can’t see a thing.  Nothing but the snow, coming down fast and heavy, like an attack.  It sticks to your face and eyes, blinding you.

But you’re panic-driven, sprinting headlong into the night, into the heart of the snowstorm, heading anywhere, just away and away and away - From the thumping of those feet behind you and cry of the wind,  the thumping of your heart and cry you dare not make. Loki! Oh but what has he done? Where is he? Did the monster get him? You will NOT think that. You run and you run.

You’re out of breath, can go no further, still sure you hear those thudding steps coming for you and that this must be the end. But, as you pant and reason slowly returns, you see what luck it was fatigue halted you until your thoughts made enough sense to save you.

Out there, right ahead of you where you’re running is the sea if not the edge of the world and at this very moment you are also standing over the sea, preserved only by a magical crust of ice…  

You can’t hear the the beast anymore. He must be back there, somewhere. But if you can’t see him he can’t see you either, right?

And unless you call out, he can’t hear you either.

You don’t know what way you ran from the cottage but you know which way you came from. Back there is the monster, but back there also is the skiff and so somewhere is Loki. So you turn and start to retrace your steps. There are no prints to see as the wind sweeps up and tosses all the snow that could possibly fall.  Just once you think you see the traces of two pairs of skates.

You long for Loki.

Surely he’s okay.  He’s fought frost giants before.  He knows what to do. But where did he go? How could something so wonderful turn so terrible so quickly? It’s been little more than an hour since you last saw him. But what if he got back to the cottage before you and the monster surprised him…

Your feet are freezing, but you force them forward, keeping your path straight and forcing your eyes open every few moments to try to see something, anything.

The craggs of the island’s cliffs appear as a dull shape through the blizzard. The skiff can’t be far.  You won’t go back to the cottage. You’ll get the boat in the air, then you’ll look for Loki. The giant can’t catch you if you’re flying.

You’ve never flown a skiff.

You think of how easy Loki makes it look, his calm hands on the tiller, almost caressing it. But how do you even start the engine?  You hope it doesn’t need magic.

You must be close to the shore again but you are struggling, almost crawling against the wind blowing down over the island.  You can guess where the cottage should be and, instead of approaching start to make concentric arcs, searching for any trace of the boat.

You don’t see it before you walk into it, tripping over the side and onto the snow-covered floor. The hull, held in the ice, doesn’t shift with your weight.  Could it be trapped?  If you could make it fly then surely you could get it up and out of the ice.

You find the aft of the boat by feel. Snow has gotten trapped in the recess of the hull and you have to dig to reach the controls.  The tiller is cold as ice, but to your grateful relief it comes alive at your touch just like for Loki.

You give an experimental tug upwards, very gently and the skiff whirrs into life. There’s no way that would pass unheard from the cottage, even with the wind.  You have to get moving now.  You pull up a little more on the tiller but the boat doesn’t budge.  You try again, harder. Nothing, just a louder, higher-pitched whirr.  In your head, the Jotun has heard it and on his way to slaughter you.

 And where is Loki?  You imagine him battling the giant, blades of steel against blades of ice. It’s a better image than one your fears would conjure. Don’t go there. Don’t imagine yourself alone.

In desperation, you start  shifting the tiller every which way desperate to get the little boat to do something. Absurdly, this is just what it needed to break free and you hear the ice sheet breaking away beneath you  as the stern starts to rise.  You start to tug up, just up, all the way.  She’s going to make it.  Just at that moment the swirling flakes calm a second and you see the rough shape of an  figure approaching from the direction of the cottage, a dull light behind.  All too quickly, it’s gone, hidden by the snow again.  Who was it? Loki?  The monster? It was gone too quick to see

“Loki !“ you cry and tug on the tiller.  The boat bucks and soars upward at full tilt throwing you backwards and soaring into the wild sky at a dizzying angle, up and up and… You hang on but it’s the tiller you’re holding and that sends the craft into a crazy dive.  The cliffs swing up at you from nowhere and you steer hard left then have the reflex to straighten, but you’re still falling and too fast. You pull up again and as you bank you ease it the boat level finally.  But where are you now?

“Loki!”

It can’t have been him, or you’re too far now to be heard.  You’ve slowed to a snail’s pace but how do you make one of these things hover to pick someone up?

“Loki!”

It’s a cry of despair and exasperation, without any real hope to find him now. But then, miraculously, a voice answers out of the snowy void.

“Go.”

It’s him. Voice broken and desperate, but it's him.

“Where are you. Let me get you. “ He sounds so near. “I’ll come down and you jump in.”

“No, No. Go now. Go back to the city.”

“But Loki ! Let's go together.” You want to to steer toward the voice but don’t want to hit him.

“Go.  Please. There’s a little hatch to the right with the guidance system.”

“Go, go now.”

You wished you could see him but there’s not even his shape in the snow.

Go, my love, go to safely. Do it”

“Why?  There’s a Jotun, Loki, Did you see? Where is he?”

“I known. Go now.” he urges, louder.  Then more softly,  “I love you.”

Those words that should strike joy send terror through you with their finality.  You can’t find any words to say back.  You just wish you could see him. Wish he would let you take him.

Before you can lose your nerve and start to cry, you fumble open the little door, which is just where he said it would be, and a panel of lights appear, a map of Asgard.  You touch it, touch the city, The skiff rises, sedately this time, as though as reluctant to leave him as you are.

You’re leaving him because it’s what he wants,  But you’re terrified and terrified for him. So you swear to yourself you’ll be back with  help before the night is done.

“I love you.” you cry into into the swirling snow behind.

There’s no reply.

TBC

[heartslogos]

send the morning [73]

“You said you wanted a mouser,” Mahanon says, carefully adjusting his hold on the tabby cat in his arms, scratching underneath the cat’s chin as the cat squirms and generally just oozes satisfaction. “I got you a mouser. Now you cannot complain. Can we get back to real work?”

“You got me a baker’s dozen of cats,” Evelyn replies, staring at the abundance of cats that are rubbing against Mahanon’s legs. There’s one riding his shoulder in addition to the one in his arms.

Ellana is sitting behind her brother and is also swarmed in cats.

Ellana meows and all the cats meow back.

The woman laughs, absolutely delighted with how things have turned out.

“Do not presume to tell me that Skyhold and it’s myriad of pests cannot satisfy the demand of thirteen cats,” Mahanon says, eyebrow raised in challenge. “Especially not when you’ve been complaining about vermin for almost a month and a half incessantly.”

“It’s not incessantly,” Evelyn protests. “I’m just - thirteen seems excessive.”

“For a castle?” Mahanon’s fine eyebrows raise, “With lands? And not to mention the multiple keeps, towns, villages, and hovels the Inquisition has deemed fit to claim for their own. And thirteen cats seems excessive?”

Ellana makes a vague sound of amusement that comes out like a laughing hiss and all the cats are just - everywhere over the two elves.

They look like they’re multiplying before Evelyn’s eyes.

“And yet,” Mahanon continues, eyes narrowing, “You have room for - remind me, Evelyn, how many giant drooling lizards?”

“They’re not lizards - “ Evelyn starts and then stops because she’s already made the fatal mistake of acknowledging the point of the comment. She takes in a breath and slowly releases it. “Thank you, Mahanon, for the mousers. I, on behalf of the Inquisition, thank you for your hard work.”

She refrains from asking if he stole any of the cats.

Mahanon hums, nodding and then bends down to put the orange tabby down and to coax the black and white tom cat off of his shoulders. “So, does that mean we can get back to actual work?”

“Actual work? I wasn’t aware that we stopped doing actual work.”

Ellana lies down and the cats swarm over her, hiding her entire body from view as she becomes one giant mass of cat.

Even the dark ink-cloud of her hair is covered in at.

Evelyn pinches the bridge of her nose.

“Interior decorating,” Mahanon says those two words like he’s saying the rack or the wheel or even the noose, “Is not real work. Worrying about mice living in a dilapidated and abandoned castle is not real work.”

“Are you going to say repairing walls and thatching roofs isn’t real work, either, Mahanon?”

“No, that’s real work. And that’s work that is mostly under control and better left to more capable hands than mine or yours,” Mahanon says. Evelyn blinks at him in surprise and Mahanon gives her a very flat look. “Evelyn, I have never lived in a building with walls you could not dismantle and pack into the back of an aravel at a moment’s notice. And you, I should guess, are no carpenter or stone mason.”

Evelyn grimaces, “Alright, fair. So what is real work for us then?”

“Not hunting down mousers,” Mahanon says, “Hunting other things, yes.”

“Don’t say shems.”

“I didn’t have to, you did,” Mahanon replies, “I was thinking lyrium, clues, demons, Darkspawn, Red Templars - all these things in very vague details. You were the one who immediately thought shemlen.”

“I’ve been hanging about you for too long.”

“Or not enough,” Mahanon shrugs, “Seeing as you couldn’t see that the two of us are not fit for carpentry and masonry without me giving you a very obvious explanation.”

-

“Edric,” Kaaras says, slowly sitting down next to Edric underneath an outcropping of copper red rocks, “Would you like some water?”

“The one the varghest died in?” Edric asks, “Or the one we fished poisoned bodies out of?”

Kaaras just holds out the water skin to him without comment. Edric contemplates what could possibly be in it for a moment, and then realizes that no matter where the water came from he’s still living an incredibly terrible work of fantasy and this really wouldn’t change anything.

He drinks the water. It tastes like the normalcy he daydreams about.

“You’ve got - “ Kaaras points at his own nose and Edric sighs. “It - it’s r..rather red.”

“Probably,” Edric says. “You got anything for it?”

Kaaras wordlessly starts rummaging through the pouches and purses and little pockets of his robes for some salve for Edric’s sunburn.

Kaaras is a good kid and Edric wishes Malika will learn something like calmness from him. Edric has no idea how Kaaras handled life as a mercenary because he can’t imagine Kaaras ever doing anything like that.

Of course, he’s seen Kaaras toss some pretty nasty shellwork around, but that’s different. Usually Kaaras is running for his life at the time and Edric thinks that those situations should not be counted against him. Kid wouldn’t hurt a fly, otherwise.

Malika’s told him that she’s seen Kaaras moving bees, snails, and other such small creatures about like he’s their personal carriage.

Kaaras holds out a small smooth wooden container and Edric takes it gratefully.

The salve is cool and instant relief on his nose. He puts some on his cheeks and forehead for good measure.

“You need any?” Edric asks when Kaaras waves him off when he tries to hand it back.

“‘m fine,” Kaaras says, twiddling this thumbs a little, shoulders hunched as he tries to squeeze further into the shallow shade. It’ll be sundown soon and ideally it’ll cool down just as quick. Then it’d be freezing and they’ll be huddled by a fire wishing it were hot again.

Edric is going to have a word or hundred with Rutherford and Trevelyan when he gets back. Either they stick him somewhere where the temperature is constant or they let him rest his old bones at Skyhold like any decent folk should. He’s not soldier, Stone be damned, he’s just an average sort of guy from the Carta looking after his favorite and only niece.

“Are you alright?” Kaaras asks softly and Edric nods.

“It’s just hot is all,” Edric says, “I have a very delicate constitution.”

Kaaras snorts a laugh into his hand, turning away. Like polite and decent folk do.

This kid is way too soft to be part of this giant fuckup. Paragons.

“Mm..Malika said something along those lines when we left,” Kaaras says, “Mind my uncle for me, Kaaras. He’s very delicate.”

“Is that why you’ve been hovering around me this entire time? Kaaras, you’re too good, did you know that? You should dump Lavellan and Pavus immediately. They don’t nearly deserve someone as nice as you.”

[smashbuddies]

Love Bites: Pt. 2

Living with the werewolf- Snail, he had to correct himself- was both worse and not as bad as he thought it would be. It was like living with a giant dog that could talk. And that always insisted they were his boyfriend. They’d get riled up whenever the mailman came, they’d shed all over his furniture, and they’d make thoughtless attempts to earn his affection. Sometimes it was cute, in a pitiful sort of way. Other times… Not so much.

Like now, for instance.

“You killed a deer and brought it into my fucking house!?”

Snail stood over the carcass, tail wagging at the speed of light. “Yeah! I haven’t seen you eat since I’ve been here, so I thought I’d get you something.”

His eye twitched. “I’m a vampire!” he snapped, hands flying up in outrage. “I don’t eat deer! And I have blood in the fridge, so not only did you kill that thing for nothing-” he pointed at the trail of blood going from the front door all the way to the kitchen- “you ruined my carpet and scared the shit out of me!”

Their face fell, going from excited to confused. “Scared you?”

“What am I supposed to think when I come  home and see blood all over my house?” he asked with a huff. “I thought maybe you’d…”

He didn’t want to say it. As if he really cared about them. Well, okay, maybe he did on some level. He wasn’t a complete asshole. But he mostly just didn’t want them hurt under his watch.

“If you have blood,” Snail said, thankfully changing the subject, “then why don’t you eat it? I’m pretty sure that’s been there for a week.”

“It’s called self-control,” Daniel muttered, mentally making plans to get a new carpet. “Something you clearly lack.”

They frowned and watched him as he grabbed a list of numbers off the fridge. “Seems more like self-torture or something. I honestly don’t know how you can go more than a day without eating. It doesn’t seem healthy.”

“Great thing about being undead,” he idly commented, paying more attention to his phone. “Don’t need to eat as often as the living.”

While he arranged for someone to replace his carpet- the best guy for these kind of incidents because of his Don’t Ask Policy- he heard Snail shuffling around the kitchen. Once that was all taken care of, the bag of blood was promptly shoved in his face.

“Eat,” Snail demanded, giving him a stern look. “I’m not gonna have my boyfriend starve to death on me.”

Daniel swallowed thickly, the hole on his stomach now fifty times more noticeable. “Snail, put it back.”

They didn’t move a muscle. “You need to eat.”

“I’ll eat when I’m hungry,” he lied through clenched teeth. His instincts screamed at him to pounce and consume, but he ignored it in favor of backing away. “I only get a little bit every two weeks, so it’s better to save it up as much as I can.”

“Is this even actual human blood?” they asked, eyeing up the bag.

Holy shit, they were dumb.

“Of course it is,” he answered snippily, hunger getting to him. If they didn't put it back soon, he was going to snap. “That’s why I can’t get a whole lot.”

“Well, maybe after this you can try animal blood,” they suggested, moving even closer with the bag. “Then that deer won’t go to waste. C’mon, eat. I know you want to.”

Fuck it!

In a flash he snatched the bag from them and bit into it. After that, things kind of melted into a blur, but when his hunger was sated he found that maybe he was a bit messier than he would’ve liked. Plus Snail sure as hell seemed shocked if their wide eyes were any indication.

Cold shame washed over him. “Sorry,” he mumbled, looking down at his now-ruined blazer. Another one in the trash, fucking fantastic. “Guess I was more hungry than I thought.”

“...And that’s why I wanted you to eat,” Snail said, now with a smug grin on their face. As if making a point, they hefted the deer up onto the counter and licked their lips in anticipation. “Now let’s dig in!”

“I’m not eating that thing raw,” Daniel muttered with a disgusted sneer. Then he began to go through his cabinets, looking for the right cookware. A simple pot should suffice. “Who knows what diseases its carrying.”

Snail scrunched their face. “You’re not cooking a whole deer in that little thing. Besides, you’re undead, so diseases shouldn’t matter.”

Right.

“Well,” he hastily tried to defend himself, “it’s the principle of the whole thing. Point is, I’m boiling the blood no matter what you say. Now help me get some into the pot.”

“How am I supposed to do that?” they asked, lifting up one of the deer’s legs and shaking it around all willy-nilly. “This thing isn’t a fucking orange I can just squeeze to get the juice out, it’s got bones and shit.”

Moron.

With a little bit of teamwork- with Snail doing all the heavy lifting, of course- the two of them managed to get a fair amount of blood in the pot. Daniel watched over it, waiting impatiently for it to finally boil, while Snail tore into the deer without a second thought. It was disgusting, and he gladly kept his eyes turned away.

“Next time you want to get me something to eat,” he said, tapping his fingers at the first bubble appeared, in the blood “go to a butcher’s. I don’t wanna have to replace my carpet again so soon.”

“Uh-huh…”

They could’ve at least pretended to listen, for fucks sake. But it was fine. Not like he’d have to deal with them much longer anyway. This was a temporary living situation. No number of sweet, yet stupid gestures from Snail were going to change it. 

Not in a thousand years.

Since Snail had made it very painfully obvious that they had no interest in house hunting, Daniel decided to take it upon himself to do it for them. Along with looking for a job for them. Unfortunately, he couldn’t do it as often as he liked, with his busy work week. But with his trusty parasol, he was able to make use of even the sunniest of weekends.

But when an overcast day came around, he decided not to even bother bringing it. Unfortunately, after the fifth werewolf-friendly apartment he checked out, he felt a distinct tingle on the back of his neck.

Damn it all to hell.

He made a mad dash for a shady alleyway- not the best choice, but he panicked- and hastily pulled out his phone to call the house. Snail better have been home, because he was not going to wait all day for the sun to set.

“Uh, Daniel?”

“Snail, I need you to get my parasol and bring it to me,” he said, clutching tightly onto his phone like it was a lifeline. “This is really important.”

“What the hell’s a ‘pair-a-soul’? Is it some vampire thing?”

“My umbrella,” he clarified slowly, trying not to get frustrated with their stupidity. The sun was now beating down just a bit, making him feel nauseated. “It should be by the front door. It’s black with a silver handle.”

“...Okay, I got it. You said you wanted it, right?”

“Need it,” he corrected, leaning against the wall. “I’m kind of trapped in a disgusting alleyway downtown until either you get it to me or the sun decides to fuck off.”

“Wait… Can’t the sun kill you?”

Daniel brought a hand up and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Yeah. It can. That’s why I need my fucking parasol!”

“Shit!”

The line cut out, and he could only assume that they were on their way.

How much time passed by, he didn’t know. While the sun loomed over him and threatened to end his short un-life, he occupied himself by thinking about anything but the ever present sense of doom sinking deep into his gut. His script had to get done soon, and he had to book more guests for a new segment. And Snail had been bugging him to let them visit him at work, so he had to take care of that somehow.

Fuck.

He never told Snail where exactly he was.

Well, time to hastily write out his will. Just in case.

Just as he found a decent attorney, Snail came barreling into the alley on all fours, with his parasol in their mouth. They turned their head toward him and wagged their tail, eyes gleaming. And honestly, if he had a tail, it'd be wagging too.

Gingerly, he took the parasol while pointedly ignoring the slobber all over it. “Thanks. But how the fuck did you even find me?”

They got up on their feet and stretched up, back popping. “I just kinda ran around until I got your scent.” They grinned and tapped their nose, teasing, “Your bullshit cologne’s pretty strong.”

With a huff, he popped the parasol open and slung it daintily over his shoulder. “Well, I like my bullshit cologne, thank you very much.”

“Never said it was a bad thing.”

Before he could get another word in, they scooped him up into their arms, like he was some damsel they rescued from a tower.

“Snail, what the hell do you think you're doing?” he said, face going red. “Put me down!”

“Nope. I'm taking you home so you don't roast out here,” they said, pointedly going on their way with a firm hold on him. “I'm not losing my boyfriend to the sun. I'll fucking fight it if I have to.”

The words I'm not your boyfriend almost spilled from his mouth, but he held them back in favor of more pressing matters.

“I'll be fine, Snail. For fuck’s sake, there’s at least three more apartments I need to look at today. Can't do that if I'm stuck at home.”

Their face dropped. “Oh. Right. Well, you can do that later.”

Thanks for making him feel guilty. Even though he had no reason to. He was just letting them stay at his place because it was the right thing to do. They were the one who got the whole boyfriend nonsense in their head. Not him.

Finally, he was placed back on the ground once they got to the house. Snail still hovered around him, though, asking all sorts of questions about his well-being.

“Do you need anything? Sunscreen? A fan? Something to drink? Can you even drink normal stuff?”

He sighed as he put his parasol back in place by the door. “I'll make myself some tea. I just need a little peace and quiet.”

With his tea made, he took a seat on the couch and lost himself in the soothing warmth in his hands. Nothing could relax him quite like this.

Unexpectedly, Snail sat right next to him, snuggling up to his side with a pathetic look on their face. Their grip on his arm had him thinking they were afraid he'd disappear. But they couldn't be that clingy, could they?

“What's your deal?” he asked. Thankfully he had enough freedom of movement to actually enjoy his tea without much issue.

“I don't want to lose you,” they mumbled as their face pressed against his neck. “You almost died. That was really fucking scary.”

“I wouldn't say I almost died,” he corrected, although that was really to assure himself more than anything. “I would've stayed where it was safe for as long as I needed to. I've done it before.”

They huffed. Was that not good enough for them?

“Look, I'm fine,” he said, patting their head. “See? Still here and as half-alive as ever.”

“I'm gonna lose you anyway…”

Daniel frowned. “What's that supposed to mean?”

They pulled back, hurt written all over their face. “You're still trying to get rid of me. With stupid apartment hunting and shit.”

Fair point. He set his cup down so he could focus on Snail. His hand automatically went to the tuft of hair on top of their head, fingers threading through it.

“That's what we agreed on,” he stated firmly. “You stay here until you get a job and an apartment.”

“But we're boyfriends.”

There was that word again. As much as he wanted to argue, he couldn't bring himself to do it. They cared for him. Greeted him eagerly whenever he walked through the door. Came to his rescue when he needed them to. Hell, even when he didn't need them to, they showered him in care and affection.

And what did he do? Provide food and shelter, sure. But maybe a small part of him actually wanted to reciprocate.

“...You're right,” he sighed out. “We're boyfriends. And I shouldn't be trying to kick you out.”

Their mood did a complete one-eighty. “So you're gonna let me stay!?”

He hummed out an affirmative, and was immediately smothered in kisses to his face, jaw, and neck. Soft, quick ones, with lots of excited babbling in between. It was almost cute. And a little enjoyable.

Maybe they'd make a good boyfriend after all.

[viralberry]

Doctors Remove Live Cockroach From a Woman’s Skull

Everyone’s heard the old wives tale- you swallow up to 5 spiders a year while you’re sleeping.

While this is blatantly false, and honestly makes no sense when you think about it- I mean would you willingly crawl into the mouth of a sleeping giant?- other insects aren’t as cautious.

Insects like the cockroach, that most hated by mankind of all insectdom.

Today we’re taking a look at the woman with a cockroach living in her head.

Cockroaches are insidious little creatures.

They plague our homes and resist our best attempts to exterminate them.

Yet no matter how bad the infestation, no one ever seriously thinks that they would be bold enough to make the move inside the human body.

But that’s exactly what happened in the city of Nunkambakkam, India, just this November.

One night a 42- year old woman identified known as Selvi insect crawling around her nostril as she slept.

Brushing the insect away, she was horrified to discover that it had bolted straight up her nose! Feeling it crawling around inside her nostril, Selvi said that the small cockroach gave her a burning sensation in her eyes as it crawled around.

Unable to sleep- and who could blame her?- she sat up and waited for dawn so she could go to a nearby clinic.

At the clinic the doctors quickly referred her to a nearby government hospital, where she had a nasal endoscopy performed to find the intrusive cockroach.

Still alive, the nose spelunking insect had lodged itself in the skull between Selvi’s eyes.

“This is the first such case I have seen in my three decades of practice”, remarked Dr.M N Shankar.

The doctors would go on to successfully remove the cockroach, and comment that they were glad Selvi had not waited to see them as if the cockroach had died she would have developed an infection which could have spread to the brain.

Those doctors probably shouldn’t have worried about Selvi taking her time to see them, as we’re pretty sure nobody would hesitate to immediately head to the hospital if a cockroach ran up their nose.

Selvi’s incident was a freak accident as cockroaches don’t typically decide to go exploring inside the human body.

Other insects however aren’t so careful, or deliberately seek out other creatures to inhabit or lay their eggs in.

If you’ve got the stomach for it, stay tuned as we explore more incidents of creepy crawleys ending up inside people.

In July of 2013, for-year-old Paul Franklin was on vacation with his family when he tripped and skinned his knee at the beach.

Kids are notorious for getting bumps and scrapes, so his family cleaned him up, bandaged him, and didn’t think much of it.

A few weeks later, the knee became infected and the family took Paul to the hospital.

After a quick inspection, doctors believed the cause to be nothing more than a staph infection and treated it with antibiotics.

The infection did indeed abate,but a black bump just under the skin continued to grow.

On a hunch, Paul’s mom decided to squeeze the bump and out popped a living sea snail! Turns out that when Paul had scratched up his knee, he must have inadvertently picked up a fertilized sea snail egg which got stuck in his flesh.

Paul took the tiny invader in stride though and decided to keep it, calling it Turbo after the star of an animated film.

Earlier we mocked the old wive’s tale of a spider climbing into your mouth only to be swallowed, yet our next incident makes us feel that perhaps we were a bit hasty in our disbelief.

Back in 2014 an Australian man named Dylan Maxwell went on holiday to the Indonesian island of Bali.

Enjoying the tropical beaches and lush jungles, Dylan felt what he thought was an insect bite at the base of a small appendix scar on his navel.

Visiting a local doctor he was prescribed an antihistamine for insect bite and discharged.

Upon returning home however a red scar-like trail started developing from his navel all the way up his chest, and an alarmed Dylan visited a hospital to be checked out.

Doctors were shocked to discover that a small tropical spider had actually crawled inside of Dylan and made its way up his body, staying alive for three whole days! Dylan’s spider tenant was successfully removed, and the worst Dylan has to endure now is his friends calling him Spider man.

Bot flies are horrible little creatures who lay their eggs on the exterior of other living creatures- usually mosquitoes or flies.

Upon hatching, the larvae burrow into the host and start to feed, emerging later to pupate into mature adult bot flies.

Sometimes a female bot fly will choose a human as a host, and usually the burrowed larva is easily removed by simply covering the burrow hole with anointment or other substance that blocks the larva from breathing Usually.

The US Air Force and other military branches routinely engage in humanitarian aid work, dispatching military doctors and other medical personnel to impoverished areas around the world.

Back in the year 2000, a 5 year old boy reported to an Air Force medical camp with a swollen eye and complaining of not being able to see out of it.

When the military doctors examined his eye, they were horrified to discover a nearly fully grown bot fly larva attached directly to his eyeball.

Under general anesthesia, the doctors made a small incision into the eyeball and removed a whopping 19 millimeter bot fly larva.

The boy would go on to make a full recovery, and after learning of this incident flies may have trumped cockroaches as our own personal most hated insect in the world. Our original story features a woman with a cockroach who could have infected her brain, but our next one shows what happens when insects manage to actually get inside the brain itself.

If you have the stomach for it, keep on reading, and if not we recommend you stop here. Ok, we warned you.

Back in October of 2002 a 70 year old man in the US was involved in a minor car accident.

When police arrived they were shocked at the man’s condition.

Despite not having suffered any injuries in the accident, the upper portion of the man’s skull and large amounts of his brain were visible, and the shocked officers immediately contacted paramedics.

When taken to the hospital the man was found to be suffering from an unusual form of cancer which had eaten away at a portion of his skull and scalp,but because it did not cause him any pain he had never sought treatment.

The exposed brain was discovered to be infested with live maggots, which had infested the man for an unknown amount of time.

Doctors removed the maggots by suction and with a mild bleach solution, though the man would go on to die from his untreated cancer three months later.

You might be wondering how the man could possibly be alive after having an exposed brain infested with live maggots, but turns out that the maggots were probably what was keeping him alive.

As the cancer ate away at the man’s skull and scalp, the maggots- which only eat decaying flesh and leave healthy flesh alone-would have consumed any infected flesh that might have caused a serious and deadly infection.

We have no idea how this man chose to go around his day with an exposed brain and live maggots living on it, but at least the maggots he was giving a home to were keeping his gaping wound clean and healthy.

In fact, doctors in developed nations have started using maggots to treat infected wounds, and the treatments have been found to be far more effective than anything used prior.

So next time you go to the doctor with a bad cut, if it gets infected you might just go home patched up with a few maggots wriggling around inside you and keeping you healthy! By the way, if you have the stomach for it go ahead and google this last story, as there are photos- but be warned, you might not want to eat lunch today if you do.

We sincerely hope you can sleep tonight without feeling an itching, crawling sensation all over your body- is it just scratchy sheets,or is some insect making its way along your skin, just looking for a chance to make you its new home? Is that random itch by your ear just a stray hair, or is a creepy crawly trying to get inside your ear and to your brain? Is that bump on your stomach just another bug bite, or is something burrowing deeper inside you, looking to lay its eggs in your flesh?

Thanks for reading till the end, and as always, don’t forget to like, share and react.

See you next time.

Source: Youtube

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[fireteam-dauntless]

A Tale of Two Guardians XVII

Part 1 of the Destined Series. Chapter 17 : The Dreadnaught masterlist

word count: 2.7K tag list: @mail-me-a-snail @basically-nacl

The private channel lit up with Skinner and Maverick on the line.  “Storm,” Skinner said.  “I know you’re not a morning person, but Cayde got back to me overnight.  The stealth drive is installed and we’re going out today to hit the Dreadnaught.  We’re meeting up at Maverick’s in an hour to discuss a plan.”

“Gotcha,” I said with a yawn.  “I’ll be there.”

— — — — —

The three of us were huddled over Maverick’s kitchen table.  There were plans laid out and some maps of the dreadnaught that Cayde had sent over.  They had gotten them from the Awoken Queen’s Guard, Petra Venj.

“Our mission is simple,” Maverick said.  “We’re taking Eris Morn’s old Hive ship to the Dreadnaught to lower our chances of being detected.  We’re going to breach the thing, deactivate its weapon, and find a good place to set up a landing zone so other Guardians can get onto the Dreadnaught.”

“It’s straightforward,” I said, “but there’s way too many variables.  The stealth tech could malfunction, we could get trapped on that thing, or we could just not even find a way to deactivate its weapon..”

“True,” Skinner said and sat back in his chair with his feet propped up on the table.  “But we’ll never know if we don’t try.”

“There is a lot at risk, yeah,” Mav continued.  “But if we don’t do this we may not even have a chance at stopping Oryx and the Taken.”

I looked between both of them, then I held up my hands.  “I’m not flying that thing.”

“Not it!” Skinner shouted right after me.

“Well shit,” Mav said with a sigh.  “I guess this is payback for sending you up to that power box, isn’t it?”

“Oh, absolutely,” I laughed.  “It’s only fair.”

Maverick sighed and shook his head.  “Yeah, yeah, the sooner we head out, the better.  I don’t want the Vanguard catching wind of our mission.”

“Oooh!”  Skinner jumped up and started to pull me out of Maverick’s place by the arm.  “Storm, have you had the pleasure of meeting our lovely Eris Morn?”

“The lady who’s ship we are taking?”  I asked.

“Yes, but by your hesitance, I’ll take that as a no.  C’mon!  I’ll introduce you two before we head out.” 

I didn’t have much of a choice.  Skinner kept a firm hold on my arm as he skipped down the City streets like a crazy person, and I was an unwilling participant in his games.  I looked behind me at Maverick helplessly, smiling nervously, and mouthed, “Help me.”

Maverick, however, looked behind him, like I was looking at someone else, then shrugged his shoulders.  Asshole, I thought to myself.  I was going to have to let Skinner drag me all the way to the Tower.  The three of us collected in the elevator and I finally wrenched my arm out of Skinner’s grip.  “Jeez, man, I get it.”

— — — — —

The three of us were in the Hanger waiting for the go ahead from Amanda before we boarded.  I was bringing my Fusion rifle with me this time instead of my sniper.  Maverick wanted me to stick with him and let Skinner be the distance fighter, since he could go invisible.  We got our go ahead once she made sure everything was in shape to fly and the stealth drive was properly installed.

“Cayde was right,” Skinner groaned and pulled on his helmet.  “It smells fucking rank in here.”

“You’re the lucky one, Mav,” I said as I pulled my helmet as well, trying to block out the smell.  

“Why me?”

“You can’t smell anything, Mr. Roboto,” Skinner snapped.

Maverick laughed loudly and took his seat at the controls.  “I guess you are right at that.  Everyone take a seat.  This is going to be a long ride.”

“Try not to kill us on the way there.”

I laughed softly and sat down in the seat behind Maverick and Skinner sat down beside him at the co-pilot controls.  Maverick started turning on the ship’s controls and the engines whirred to life.  “Alright, everybody, here goes nothing.”  

We took off out of the Hanger and left Earth’s atmosphere.  “Alright, Little light,” Maverick said.  “Set a course for the Dreadnaught.”

"Alright." his Ghost replied reluctantly.

On the way there Skinner began talking, “I can’t wait to get on that Dreadnought. Imagine all that loot!”

“Oryx first, loot later.”  Mav reminded him.

“Who knows, maybe you can find…”

“Probably will.”

I glanced between the two of them with eyebrows raised and Skinner shook his head, as if to tell me not to ask.  I shrugged my shoulders, and settled back into my seat.

As we reached Saturn, Maverick’s Ghost said, “We should probably approach from within Saturn’s belt. Should give us the element of surprise.”

“Good idea.”

We ducked into Saturn’s belt for the cover and reached the Awoken fleet.  Debris was suspended in the ring, parts of destroyed ships and bodies of the Awoken floated aimlessly.  I could feel my heart tightening.  “It only took one blast from the Dreadnaught.” Ghost commented.

Cayde’s channel lit up and he started to come through.  “When you’re through it will never fire again.  Just don’t forget to plant the transmat link so other Guardians can land.  Not everybody’s got stealth tech, and a ship that smells like Hive.  Good luck, fireteam.”

“Activating stealth drive.”  Skinner said.  He flipped a few switches, and the drive hummed to life.  In seconds, the ship disappeared from sight, and we approached the Dreadnaught.  But after a few minutes, something was clearly wrong.

“I’m picking up fluctuation in the power conduit.” Skinner said.

“Relax,” Cayde said “I modified the tech myself.  Probably just Saturn’s radio storms running interference.”

Just then the ship readout began to flash red and alarms began to blair.

“It’s malfunctioning!” I exclaimed.  I stood up and placed my hand on the back of Maverick’s chair and stared out the front of the ship. 

“See? I told you it would do this.” Skinner hissed.

“Did you break my stealth drive?” Cayde asked.

The cloak failed and the ship became visible again.  We were suspended in the open field between the Dreadnaught and the fleet behind us.

“…Y-You think they can see us?”  I asked quietly, and the shake in my voice was unmistakable. 

Just then the Dreadnaught’s weapon began to charge.

“I think they can see us!”  Maverick shouted.  He punched the throttle and started to fly us towards the Dreadnaught, and fast.  I braced myself on their chairs.

“Yup, you’re fucking crazy!” Skinner shouted.

That weapon charged up a lot faster than I thought.  Before Maverick could land us on the Dreadnaught, the weapon fired.  We all braced for certain death, but our Ghosts were able to transmat us onto the docks of the Dreadnaught moments before Eris’s ship was blown to pieces.

“What happened? Everything alright?” Cayde asked.

“Why wouldn’t we be alright?”  Maverick said.  “We’re just stuck here with no ship and no transmat zone.”

“Great. Told you my stealth drive would work.”  Cayde began.  “I’d like to tell you that the strength of the City’s behind you, but as long as that weapon is still firing we can’t risk reinforcements.  Head inside see if you can find what's powering that weapon.”

We began to walk around to try to figure out where to go next.  I spotted something familiar, a small ball of Taken energy.  My old fireteam and I had seen a few of them before…. Before all hell broke loose on Phobos.  “Guys!” I yelled, “over here!”

Skinner and Maverick both rushed over to me.  “That’s the same thing my team saw on Phobos.  Before everything went to shit.”  I said.

“It might be a probe,” Cayde said, “so expect some trouble.”

As we approached the light, it darted down the hall. “Maybe we shouldn’t follow it.” I said. “It could be a trap.”

“Yeah well I don’t see another way.  So we don’t have much of a choice, now let’s go.”  Maverick said. We followed it, only to find it hovering over a bridge made of a weird Hive stone, hovering over a chasm below.

“You should test the water, Storm!”  Skinner said.  “Go jump on that bridge.”

“Why me?!”  I asked and pointed my hand at Maverick.  “Mav, you should do it.”

“Oh no, I’m not,” Maverick said.  “I just flew a smelly ship with a stealth drive that failed.  I’m not jumping toward a light made up of Taken energy.”

“Ugh fine,” I said and threw up my hands in defeat.  “And just so you know,”  I pointed at both of them and narrowed my eyes, even if they couldn’t see it.  “I hate the both of you.”

“No you don’t.” Skinner said with a snicker.

I walked by both of them and approached the bridge.  I stepped up on top of it, and stood there for a moment.  Everything seemed okay.  We might be able to jump from here to the next ledge. “See? It’s fine,” I said.  “You guys can…”

Just like that, the bridge disappeared and I screamed in shock.  I threw my arms out, trying to grab onto anything.  I plummeted to my death in the chasm below.

My Ghost resurrected me on the ledge.  Skinner was laughing his ass off.  Maverick was looking at me with some degree of concern.

“Fucking assholes!”  I yelled at them.

“I had no idea it would do that, Storm.” Maverick said.  It almost sounded like an apology.

“I had an idea it would!” Skinner said with a smile.  I glared at him and closed my fist around my Panta Ray.  Maker, did I want to shoot him.

“Cayde the bridge vanished.”

“Give me a second, I’ll check with Eris. Uh, she says it’s probably just a ‘resonant spell’, whatever that is, so just don’t… don’t trust anything…”

“How about you let me take a look.” My Ghost said.  She hovered over the chasm and started scanning the area, then outlined the platforms. Then we could use our Ghosts to sense the platforms.  We crossed the chasm easily now that we could see where the platforms began and ended, and get an idea of when they would disappear.  We walked to the next opening in the wall, as we cut down some Thrall feeding. We came to another hole and we looked upon the giant room we found ourselves in.

Cayde came back in “Any luck with the weapon?”

“We’ve only scratched the surface of the Dreadnought.” Maverick said.

“Hive keep vital operations deep in the core of the architecture. You’re going to have to get your hands dirty.”

We reach a room guarded by a few Acolytes. Maverick unloaded with his shotgun, I took out one with my fusion rifle, and Skinner threw a knife into the eye of another, killing it instantly.  We entered the room to see a giant mass of Taken energy.

“That energy powers the weapon. Cayde what do we do?” Maverick’s Ghost asked.

“Okay, hold on. Eris is talking about ‘breaking the necrotic’... ah just shoot it!”

Before we began to fire on it, Skinner’s Ghost said, “Hold on there’s a shield, let me take care of it.” 

As his Ghost brings the shield down we all unload into the power cell, and destroy it.  We heard sounds of part of the weapon disabling, but it wasn’t over.  Taken began to be summoned into the room.

“It’s down but I’m picking up other channels to the weapon,” Maverick said.

“Find them. It won’t stop firing until you bring them all down,” Cayde replied.

We followed the Taken and were led to the second energy source for the weapon, but more Taken entered the room.  We were insanely outnumbered.  The three of us stayed close together to cut them down.  It was hard, and for a while it felt like they kept coming.  

“Skinner!” Maverick shouted.  “Get your Ghost over there to deactivate that shield!”

Skinner nodded and jumped over to the energy cell, and then deployed his Ghost.  We cut down the last of the Taken just as the shield fell and we unloaded on the mass of taken energy.

“The weapons cycling down. Let’s find that last cell.” Mav said

“You know for the Dreadnaught’s only weapon it sure is lightly guarded.” I remarked.  

“It can stay that way for all I care now let’s get to the last cell.”

“And let’s make it quick,” I said.  “The sooner we can get that transmat link set up, the better.”

We ran down a couple more hallways and reached the last cell.  It was completely unguarded.  But the moment we began to lower the shield, Taken began to spawn in.

“You were saying Storm?” Skinner’s sarcasm was obvious.

“Not now, Skinner,” I said simply and pulled out my Monte Carlo.  “Let’s survive this ambush first.”

“Skinner you’re with me, Storm watch our backs!” Maverick shouted out orders.

I nodded at both of them and went to higher ground.  Most of the Taken were Hive, so it wasn’t the best fight of our lives.  Wizards now summoned Shadow Thrall and shot a solar kind of gaze, so they were our biggest problem.  While I covered them from above, killing any Taken Acolytes and Knights that came into the battle, Skinner and Maverick fought side by side like a well oiled machine of chaos and destruction.  My fusion rifle was good against the Wizard’s shields, so I lowered them and then they would lay into the wizards like it was their job.  The fight only lasted a couple of minutes, however it was a bit difficult to manage until the Wizards were down.

“This sucks!” Skinner pouted when the fighting finally ended.  “There must be a reason why there’s not much to fight.”

“Yeah, but I’d rather not find out why,” I replied.

We had a Ghost drop the last shield and we destroyed the last cell.

“The weapon’s down! Cayde, what’s our next move?” Maverick asked.

“We need that transmat zone up and running. There’s a massive hull breach near your location that will be your best bet.” Cayde said.

“Alright let’s get going guys.”

We turned and walked down the hall, where these totems stood like ominous statues on both sides.  There was a platform ahead that looked almost like an arena.  Two sets of stairs led to a higher platform, where this arch stood proudly.  Maverick jumped down onto it, and before Skinner and I could follow, it hummed to life and a Hive portal appeared in that arch.

“Umm, Mav,” Skinner shouted down to him.  “That big arch thing just activated.”

“And something big just came out of it!” I yelled.  This giant hive Knight with two horns and a sword walked out, accompanied by more Hive.

“Crota?! I thought I killed you!” Maverick exclaimed in shock.

I looked down at Maverick and tried to process what he said.  He said he killed Crota?  He told me his fireteam had failed.  I shook my head and decided to put it aside for now, but made a mental note to say something about it later.  “How do we kill him?”

“We can’t, not without a Hive sword.” Maverick said.  “For now we run!”

Skinner and I followed him as he ran out of the arena and onto some more of those floating platforms.  I turned behind us when we jumped onto solid ground.  Maverick’s words still rang in my head, so I stopped him from following Skinner towards the Hull breach.

“How do you know that’s Crota?”  I asked him quietly.  “And how do you know how to kill him?”

“I don’t know a shot in the dark. Couldn’t hurt to try later” he replied quickly.  He seemed uncomfortable talking about it at the moment, so I decided to leave it alone. 

“You guys coming?!” Skinner shouted back towards us.  “I think we’re getting close to the Hull breach.”

We nodded and followed Skinner towards the Hull breach.