#cause its just the Worst mixed bag of music

[southern--downpour]

for some reason my brain has very strong opinions on the music tastes of marble hornets characters & bc of this i cannot listen to almost any playlist for em cause theyre all Wrong

[ojoshai]

Summary: Based around the Worst Outcome Timeline, except its TUT (The Unexpected Truth) version and everyone is alive except for Nightmare, who dies. Following her death, Dream is plagued with hallucinations of Nightmare's vengeful spirit. During one of these episodes, Dream sees her playing the violin, causing him to grapple with the emotions surrounding her loss.

PS. In my universe, Nightmare is a woman.

In the brightly lit office, the clock strikes midnight, but the room is far from silent. The lights are still on despite the late hour, casting a glow over the room that gives it an almost eerily artificial feel. Dream sat alone in his main office, surrounded by mountains of paperwork. The air was heavy with the scent of coffee as he took a deep sip. He had been working non-stop for the past six months, the bags under his eyes a testament to his exhaustion. Ever since he killed Nightmare. He had thought that with her gone, the universe would finally find peace. But instead, chaos had erupted. A plague had spread, claiming the lives of countless beings, and Dream was being blamed for it.

Despite his attempts to maintain a strong facade, Dream's mind was in turmoil. He had convinced himself that taking Nightmare's life was necessary for the greater good, but deep down, he couldn't shake off the nagging feeling of doubt. Why did his universe seem to be falling apart? Was it really due to his decision or was it just a coincidence?

Dream's thoughts were interrupted by a sound. He paused, listening intently. The discordant notes of a violin sliced through the silence. It was a sound that he knew all too well. It was the sound of an old friend playing their violin. He froze, his heart lodged in his throat.

But that couldn't be...Nightmare is dead. How could he be hearing the sound of her instrument? As the notes continued to play, Dream slowly rose from his seat, his eyes never leaving the spot where the sound originated from. With trembling steps, he moved towards the balcony door.

His hand hovered over the knob, afraid to turn it. Was he going insane? Was this just his mind playing tricks on him, tormenting him for his past actions? But the music persisted, growing clearer and more distinct with each passing second.

Finally, Dream found the strength to open the door. The melodic notes of the violin and cold wind hit him like a ton of bricks, causing his heart to ache. And there, outside the balcony, was the source of the sound. A ghostly figure, was playing a violin. Dream's breath hitched as he recognized the figure. It was the ghost of Nightmare.

For a moment, Dream could do nothing but stare. The sight of her ghost filled him with a mix of longing, anger, and bitter regret. But the sound of her playing, so sweet and soothing, overwhelmed him with a deep sense of remorse. Silent tears coursed down his cheeks as he watched, listening to the bittersweet melody that was his past coming to haunt him.

He wanted to call out to her, to apologize, to hold her one last time. But he knew it was useless. The ghost was just a fragment of his memory, an illusion conjured by his own guilt and despair. Yet, the music she was playing was so familiar, so achingly beautiful.

As Dream leaned against the doorframe, he finally allowed himself to break. All the stress, loneliness, and pain he had suppressed for the past six months burst out in a flurry of silent sobs. The guilt he had pushed away, now came crashing down upon him like a tidal wave.

The realization that he had been wrong, so wrong, hit him harder than any blow. He had killed the one he cared about the most, the one who played to calm his demons, because he thought it was for the greater good. But now, in front of him, was the evidence that what he had done only brought more suffering. He had destroyed the balance, not restored it.

The balcony felt stifling, despite how its an open area you can feel imaginary walls were closing in on him. Dream could hardly breathe as the truth settled over him like a blanket of thorns. He had tried to justify his actions, convincing himself that sacrificing one for the good of many was the right choice. But now, with the haunting sound of the violin and the eerie presence of its ghost player, he knew the truth that had been staring at him in the face all along.

Dream sank to his knees, letting the sobs shake through his body. The music continued to play, a constant reminder of his mistake. The notes twisted and whirled, wrapping around him painfully. He had been so foolish, so damn stupid, to believe that ending his former bestfriend's life was the answer.

But now it was too late. The deed was done, and he was left to deal with the consequences. Chaos reigned, the blame was on him, and the spirit of Nightmare played her fiddle. The bitter, melodic tone filling the area, drowning out his sobs and mocking his mistakes.

Dream wept, the tears streaming down his face and onto the floor. He could almost feel Nightmare's presence next to him, as if she was there, rubbing his back comfortingly. But he knew it was an illusion, a torturous trick of his mind. Yet, he couldn't tear his eyes away from the specter that played the instrument that once brought him comfort.

And then, suddenly, the music stopped. Dream froze, the silence ringing in his ears. The air was thick with grief and regret. He knew that the illusion had vanished. The ghostly vision of his Nightmare, the sound of her violin, were all gone now. Only then did Dream let out a long, painful wail.

He had lost everything. His universe was in ruins, people suffering because of his actions, and the one he loved was gone forever. He had no one to turn to, no one to hold him tightly and tell him that everything would be alright. And, most heartbreaking of all, he missed the sound of the violin. The melody that calmed him, yet now only brought him bitter pain.

The Guardian of Positivity stayed there, on his knees, until exhaustion enveloped him. As he finally collapsed onto the ground, succumbing to sleep. The memory of the hauntingly beautiful sound of the violin, the sight of the ghost playing it, haunted his dreams.

The next morning, Dream woke up with a gasp. The events of the previous night came back to him like a bad dream. But reality was crueler than any nightmare. The universe was still a mess and the memory of the ghost playing the violin still weighed heavy on his heart.

Dream rose from the ground, his body aching and mind weary. He knew that he had to face the day, to try and fix the mess he had created. But with every step he took, the sound of the violin echoed in his mind, a constant reminder of his mistake and the price he had paid.

As Dream closed the door behind him, a certain ghost let out a frustrated sigh. She wanted to shout at him, to tell him how stupid and careless he had been. But her words would fall on deaf ears, for Dream could not see or hear her. Instead, she could only watch as he left, his shoulders hunched with guilt and remorse.

~END~

[xenodile]

Alright, I finished Lies of P on stream today, so I guess I can give my review of it.

Very solid overall, strong early game makes an excellent first impression, with a few little nitpicks that turn into consistent frustrations as the game reaches its finale. The music and presentation is excellent, combat feels smooth and responsive, if you're familiar with Dark Souls and Bloodborne, Lies of P will feel comfortably familiar.

In terms of replay value from multiple runs, it's a bit of a mixed bag. The weapon modification system of mix and matching handles and blades to create totally new weapons to fit any kind of stat spread means Lies of P has the largest weapon catalogue of any Souls-like I've seen, so there's always a new weapon to try out whenever you start a new run. The flipside is that the game is completely linear and only has 2 endings, so if you're looking to vary up the sequence of your run you'll likely be disappointed.

The game is also quite challenging, and not always in the best way. Of the game's 13 mandatory major bosses, 6 have two health bars, three of which are fought back to back. Furthermore, the game touts its perfect guard system to force enemies to stagger and break their weapons, but by the halfway mark these systems feel less and less impactful. Later in the game, you encounter enemies with no weapons to break or weapons so durable that you'd have to do nothing but perfect block so many attacks, or so much poise that if feels like perfect blocking has no effect. It turns from a reward for good timing and skill to the bare minimum to progress as not perfect blocking will causes you to take tremendous amounts of damage from blocked attacks.

On the subject of the game's difficulty, Lies of P inherits Sekiro's perilous attacks, in which the enemy glows red and plays a sound effect to warn of an unblockable attack that can only be stopped by a Perfect Guard. While Sekiro gave the player many ways to deal with different types of unblockables with the memorable Mikiri Counter, jumping into a head stomp, and so on, fatal attacks in Lies of P are binary. Either you perfect block or you take unavoidable damage, and the timing on some of these attacks is very finicky. An overwhelming number of enemies in Lies of P have attack animations that consist of a laboriously slow wind up into near instantaneous active frames with no tell or warning. These attacks are effectively unreactable and so they only way to deal with them is to just...keep getting hit until you fish out the right parry timing by chance and then hope you can repeat it. It's very frustrating, especially when most bosses can have multiple attacks of this nature. Some enemies also have grabs or true unblockables, which cannot be blocked or perfect blocked, and the game does not give you the courtesy of warning you which ones, which can further add to the frustration.

The game's story is enjoyable and engaging, with plenty of little secrets to uncover and leads to pursue that give the player things to think about, the but its english localization is...subpar. While I cannot confirm it as such, I was told by someone in my chat that the game was machine translated, and I honestly wouldn't be surprised if that was the case. It's hardly the worst case ever seen, but the english script has some very awkward grammar and syntax in multiple areas, as well as clumsy word choice. The actual voice acting is excellent for most of the cast, it's specifically english grammar and word choice that seems off.

The game's greatest weakness is its pacing. As you near the 80% mark of the game, a significant change occurs in the game world that signifies the coming of the end, ramping up to a grand confrontation that just...drags on and on and on for far longer than it should. The final area has more checkpoints than any other zone in the game and is an agonizingly slow crawl through a generic gray environment with almost nonsensical enemy choice and placement. Progressing this one area took me almost 10 hours by itself when most other sections of the game took me 2 or 3 at most when I was thoroughly exploring and backtracking for items and sidequests, and it utterly ruins the sense of urgency the game's narrative attempts to instill in you when you arrive.

As I said before, I do like Lies of P quite a bit and would easily recommend it to anyone that enjoys games like Sekiro or Bloodborne, but it has glaring flaws that are all the more prominent when help up next to the game's good points. The frustrating, unfun bosses stick out when you remember all the incredibly fun bosses you fought before and after them. The slow dull irritating sections linger when compared to the faster paced and more engaging parts.

The game clocks in at a very impressive length if you're scrounging for secrets and optional areas, and given its overall quality I would say it is worth its $60 price tag, but only if you are already acquainted with other game in its style as I've mentioned previously.

[eevylynn]

Leaving Neverland

Ask me about my WIPs

Idk why I wasn't expecting so many Swanfire stories considering I haven't posted any since 2015, but here we are!

Leaving Neverland was one that I surprisingly don't have anything of in my Google Docs, so I don't really remember where I was going with it.

I did find some notes in one of my writing notebooks with different ideas of technology to explore that changed between when Bae was there with Wendy versus in the 90s. I also have notes on research on the Edwardian tech in terms of pens, running water, electricity, tvs, sliced bread, and music.

There's also lists of the differences and similarities between Neal's personality as well as young Bae from the Enchanted Forest, so that I could see what mix I think he would have been when he first arrived in the 90s.

After rereading the same paragraph three times, Emma figured she wasn't going to be getting any more homework done tonight until after all the little ones were in bed. As it was, her current foster mom and her four smaller foster siblings seemed to be having a rather heated disagreement on what exactly you needed to clean in a bath before you were considered "clean". Sighing, Emma looked around the cozy living room. The only other teenaged foster kid in the house, Geoffery, was sitting on the other end of couch, dressed in his usual head to toe in black, lost in whatever screaming was coming from his headphones. Figuring he wouldn't help relieve her boredom, Emma put her book back in her backpack and stood up.

"I'm going to go for a walk," she announced, catching her foster father's eye.

He nodded and replied, "Just don't be back too late, and don't wake anyone when you get in." He then turned his attention back to the game on TV.

Closing the front door, Emma breathed in deeply in relief of the nighttime silence. She glanced around a bit before walking down the porch stairs and went right upon reaching the side walk.

Her latest foster family wasn't the worst she's had in her 15 years of being in the system. Mr. and Mrs. Riston were nice enough. They seemed to at least care about the well being of the kids that lived there rather their paycheck unlike most families she's been sent to. She also likes that she's allowed a certain level of freedom over there that group homes don't allow. All in all, she was reasonably satisfied with them.

What she wasn't quite satisfied with was the small town the Ristons lived in. It's one of those everyone knows everyone. The only real hang out place Emma saw was a coffee and sandwich shop that doubled as the local movie theater. Heck, there were only a handful of traffic lights in the entirety of the city. As a city girl, the town really left something to be desired in Emma.

Crossing a street, Emma realized that she was right around the corner from an old abandoned house she had seen when her social worker first drove her into town. Hitching her bag up her shoulder, she decided to go check it out. She tried not to make herself look too obvious as she neared the old house.

The sprawling three story Victorian home had definitely seen better days. Its faded robin's egg blue paint was chipping from the sides. The wrought iron fence that encased the grounds was over grown with weeds and bushes. The extensive garden was obviously very elaborate at one point but was now creeping unkempt across the uncut lawn.

Emma glanced around as she crept closer. Seeing no one, she slunk over to the gate.

Thankfully, vines hadn't grown over it in such a way that it wouldn't open. She opened it just wide enough for her to slip through before quickly and quietly shutting it. Turning away from the gate, Emma eyed the creepy old house. Several of the windows were boarded up, and the door had a massive padlock locking it shut. Emma managed a few steps before she stumbled over something hidden in the shadows of the overgrown weeds. The echoing noise whatever it was made as it hit the fence caused Emma to duck into the shadows. Cautiously looking around, it didn't seem as though the noise disturbed anyone, so she carefully continued towards the house.

She made her way around to the side where an unboarded window stood just above her reach. She looked behind her for something that would give her the height she needed. Spotting an old stone bench, she congratulated herself for working out as she quickly drug the heavy bench to the edge of the house. Climbing on it, she looked through the glass. However, between the darkness of the night and the dirt caking the window, she couldn't see much inside.

Reaching into her backpack, she dug out a flashlight. Taking another cautious glance around, she turned on the flashlight and placed it right up against the glass, so it would light up the inside of the house instead of the glass. Inside she saw faded peeling wallpaper and old winged armchairs with stuffing pouring out.

Putting her flashlight between her teeth, Emma made quick work of prying open the window before pulling herself up and through it. Holding her flashlight in her hand again, she looked around what appeared to be an old sitting room. Greying cushions sat on the frame of an old settee in the corner. The old, faded Persian rug in the middle of the floor was fraying at the ends, and there seemed to be a hole in the ceiling that led to the floor above.

She was heading to the archway leading to the foyer when the light of her flashlight caught what appeared to be an old trunk in the room opposite. Thinking it might have something valuable inside, she walked towards it.

"Impressive."

The sudden male voice startled Emma who let out a small scream as she turned around to see a hooded boy with his hands in his pockets and a smug smile on his face.

"But you could have just used the back door."

(continue reading on AO3)

[bahamutgames]

BIG RPG PLAYTHROUGH PROJECT AFTERTHOUGHTS: THE SEQUELS

Hello! I've talked about it before but it's been a little bit so I'll go ahead and update everyone: I'm trying to play through the full main series of a few RPGs! Named Final Fantasy, Pokemon, Dragon Quest, and Tales of. I plan on playing each entry alongside eachother (all the first games together, all the sequels together, ect ect) so I don't get burnt out on one specific series. And although I am probably going to be changing how I go about this ALREADY, I did recently finish going through the sequels. So lets talk about 'em so I can finally draw my new Pokemon team!

Game: Final Fantasy 2 (December 17, 1988)

Console: Playstation 1

Starting us out is Final Fantasy 2! The sequel to Final Fantasy 1! I've heard from MANY people that this is the worst FF in the series. And even though I've only played 5 main titles so far... I agree! This is without a doubt the worst one I've played so far!

This game does do a lot of cool stuff that actually becomes series staples. And I'm VERY shocked they were introduced so early in. Named characters over self inserts, multiple teammates you get over the course of the story, a more character driven plot. Chocobos. And I respect it for doing a lot of that. But ultimately the game just really drops the ball with a lot of this. None of the named characters are that interesting imo, all the teammates you get throughout the story eventually die and I don't think you ever have multiple at a time to swap between so they don't matter. And the plot in general was kinda boring I honestly don't remember most of it? Also, yeah, the gimmick of this one where every action raises different stats sounds cool but it really is not that fun and ultimately makes the game a slog. And in the end none of that matters cause you just kill the final boss with 2 blood swords in a couple hits anyway! AND BAHAMUT'S NOT EVEN IN THIS ONE!! BOOOOOOOO!!!

It does still have some good stuff in it, I think it looks fine. It actually had some pretty cool cutscenes. Again, Chocobos are in it. There's some nice music in it (although I don't remember a lot of it). Overall most of the positives just kinda get drowned out by the negatives and how boring the game is. I hate to be so brutal to it because it is an old FF game, but I find that to be less of an excuse when in my opinion FF1 was so solid! Even without named characters and new teammates it managed to keep my interest and make me really care about the world. And ultimately this one just didn't do that. Full disclosure, I did start cheating pretty early into this one cause it was just not clicking, I basically made myself invincible for most fights. Although I ran into a glitch where I couldn't do this for boss fights. So, it's a shame. But I think it'll have to go at the bottom of the tier list.

I really doubt there's any other games in the series I'm gonna dislike as much as this one. I don't know anything about FF3 but I expect it to be a little bit more fun!

-----

Game: Pokemon Crystal (December 14, 2000)

Console: Gameboy Color

Next up is Pokemon Crystal! The sequel to Pokemon Red/Blue/Yellow! Without a doubt, this was the best of the sequels I ended up playing. A LOT of people tell me Johto are some of the best games in the series, and I actually personally believe the remakes Heartgold / Soulsilver are objectively the best Pokemon games ever made. But ultimately my opinions on the original Crystal are a little mixed, at least when placed next to Red.

So for starters. This game is SO charming. It makes SO many improvements over the original. From small gameplay tweaks like making the bag not suck down to having some of my favorite looking sprites ever? The actual battle sprites in this game are so nuts and I absolutely ADORE how they look! The music is great and relaxing, I think Johto is a super cute region and I actually like that it's a little less modern in its technology, it's a region much more in tune with its past and the game overall leans into the mystical side of the world more than Kanto did. Which focuses a little bit more on the technology side (you can see it a lot in its legendaries, GS has two Pokemon from folklore and myth while RB has a manmade monster as the big boss). I also really love that it takes place a few years after RBY. It's cute and it actually has some interesting early into the series weirdness in its world still. Particularly an interesting note, if I understood correctly. Is that the new Pokemon are NOT native to Johto and instead are new species that have just randomly shown up in the span of 3 years. Interesting stuff that absolutely is not still the way the world works today lol. But outside of that it's neat to see Team Rocket build back up, see what Oak and Bill are doing now ect ect. I also like a lot of the gyms and of course the new Pokemon are GREAT, I really still think Johto doesn't have a single bad Pokemon in its lineup. They're all adorable.

And with all that praise, you may be shocked to hear me say... I don't know if I liked this one as much as Red and Blue? Obviously it's like, objectively better. Better sprites, gameplay, it has a Day and Night cycle for crying out loud! But I think it drops the ball in a few ways. For one, I don't think Team Rocket is interesting this time, they're cool, but ultimately kinda boring. I don't think the Rival has as interesting a progression in his character as Blue did (although him stealing is starter is actually really cool lol). I found a lot of the missions not related to the main quest to be less interesting than progressively tearing down Team Rocket. And I also just thought the build up to the elite 4 was a little less cool although to be fair I don't think that one's their fault once the concept is introduced you can't really keep it the same mysterious allure twice.

HOWEVER, while I think a lot of these issues are only issues because RBY was surprisingly fun and solid in my opinion. There is one issue that I think reigns over all the others. And it's the Pokemon distribution in this game. Obviously, there's gonna be some Kanto pokemon to pad out the region, I get that. But ultimately there's WAY too many Kanto Pokemon in this game! You run into so few new Pokemon during the course of the game and THIS is what killed it for me! I didn't run into a Spinirak, the early game bug type, until like the 3rd or 4th gym badge iirc. And most of the new Pokemon are locked in Kanto, which comes at the second half of the game! I was running into tons of fully evolved Kanto Pokemon JUST so I wouldn't run into ANY new Johto Pokemon, it was nuts. When I play these games, I really wanna see the new creatures that are made. Not all the ones that came before. And I think this game particularly messed that up. I wanted Magcargo SO bad but you don't run into Slugma until a bit through Kanto, and by that point I already had a team that defeated the Elite 4! I'm not gonna train a level 3 Slugma at that point! Very frustrating. I think all, if not most Kanto Pokemon should've been locked to Kanto itself so the Johto Pokemon could shine. I barely ran into most of the Johto Pokedex and again, this is what killed the game for me.

So, ultimately, even though Crystal is superior to Red in almost every way. Personally right now, I just don't know if I found it as exciting to play. I don't know what to expect from the series going forward, but I've heard from tons of different people that one of the next 3 regions is their favorite of all time! And Hoenn was the region I grew up with! So I'm certainly excited to see if the excitement of discovering a brand new world can be recaptured going forward!

-----

Game: Dragon Quest 2 (January 26, 1987)

Console: SNES

Third up, Dragon Quest 2! The sequel to Dragon Quest 1! Another one that, sad to say, I was not super into. I think similar to FF2 it was a little boring, especially when compared to the charm of the first one. Although, again, I respect it for bringing in additional teammates and a ever so slightly character driven story. I also liked that it really takes place in the future of the first game. With everyone being a descendant of that protagonist and even meeting the descendant of the villain and getting help from him (he should have joined your team though).

But again, it was just VERY boring. The story didn't grip me very much which again, neither did DQ1 but I still enjoyed DQ1 more. And I would argue the first was more focused. This one really felt like I didn't know WHY I was visiting any of these places. In DQ1 everything is contributing to getting Erdrick's equipment, but in DQ2 I honestly don't know how most of the stuff we do contributes to killing Hargon. If that makes any sense. And there was SO much just running around doing nothing this time. Like, so many locations on the map you cannot walk directly to, you have to go through crazy backroads to reach them. And you run back and forth between so many locations. Maybe it was like this in DQ1 as well but if that's the case, it was SO much worse in this one I swear.

I don't know what more to say, I just found this one very boring, and while I was also not super into DQ1 when I first played it, it's really grown on me as a simple charming little game. But I don't think this one will grow on me the same way. Again, full disclosure, I cheated to make myself invincible by the time I reached the final dungeon. Which sucks but by the time I got there I was just so drained.

So I think that currently. This is my least favorite of the bunch. But, on the plus side I don't think any of them will be worse than this one? I know 3/4/5 are HIGHLY regarded, and they're personally the ones I'm most excited to play! So I'm looking forward to starting 3 whenever I get around to it!

-----

And that's it! Now, I know what you're thinking. Where's Tales of Destiny! And I hate to say it, I didn't play through it. And here's where things for my big replay project are gonna change. I STARTED it. But I noticed it with the first games and now especially with the second games. I have a lot of energy for 4 RPGs at the start, but by the time I reach Dragon Quest and Tales Of, I really lose my steam. And I'm ultimately just enjoying them less. So I think going forward, I'm mainly just gonna play Final Fantasy and Pokemon. Now, I will still play DQ and TO but just, not with the same intensity, and maybe not always in order. Though I will TRY to go in order. And who knows, maybe I'll lose the oomph to keep playing FF and PKMN back to back as well. But for now, I'll mainly be moving forward with those two. I know it doesn't REALLY matter and ultimately I'll play these games how I feel works best. But I just thought I'd bring it up if anyone was curious about how I'll be approaching some of their favorite games.

Anyway, that's it for me!! I'll keep y'all posted on how my playthroughs go going forward! Thanks for reading all this mess lol, have a good day!

[captainaikus]

I’m so sorry that your uterus is your enemy at the moment 💀. AND you’re sick??? That’s literally the worst combo. I hope you feel better soon. My remedy is watching my comfort shows underneath a heated blanket from the dryer with snacks and squishmallows. Also don’t worry abt the number of characters. You do what you feel comfortable with. I’m just happy you’re posting your amazing writing and that I can read it. *sends many virtual hugs*

- ✨ anon

A visual representation of what I've done most of the day; i made a concoction and cause of that my throat healed too (recipe even if no one asked : nestea's powder ice tea/ Lipton works too mixed with honey the paste is so good, add home-brewed tea after straining the leaves et voila sore throat is better) I even have tests next week but i know i'll ace it

I'm actually not watching anything at the moment (which is surprising) I am reading a book though along with webtoons. Lore Olympus is just... I love the art and Hades. Get yourself a man who will buy you donuts and not boys who call you their bitch

My remedy : hot water bags, this tea and i crave chocolates during days like these so i had a chocolate filling macaroon and wrote cause its like therapy for me, along with music (i listen to any kind k pop, j pop, classical, you name it; i have it.)

Thank you for the remedy, squishmallows are so cute ૮⸝⸝> ̫ <⸝⸝ ა (feel free to add show recs; and i'll check em out) and I'm happy that you like my writing

°ʚ(´꒳`)ɞ° , I will say this though

My tears, your comfort has a lot of drama packing

*sending bear virtual hugs back* (づ˶•༝•˶)づ♡

[tobiosmilktea]

high fidelity — kuroo tetsurou

3.9k words | genre: fluff | warning/s: terrible writers block writing, ooc kuroo cause i suck | pairing: kuroo x gn!reader

↪︎ in which being the only two employees at a small record store meant that you and kuroo worked together almost every day. and not a single day has passed that you didn’t find your coworker absolutely insufferable. you think he’s annoying, and he thinks you’re cute. in reality, kuroo just sucks at flirting.

a/n: is the plot a bit of a mess? lowkey yeah, but ykw that’s okay cause i needed something stupid to write. this was also a bit self-indulgent cause homegirl just got employed at a record store (yay)

fucking tired—is what you would tell kuroo in the means of his grand intervention to mess with his favorite coworker of all time. granted, you were his only coworker in the infamously meager record store down some random alleyway in downtown tokyo.

those six words were how you would describe how you felt at that very moment. busy with doing what you were employed on doing rather than sitting around and snacking on some trail mix. one would assume that working at a rather small establishment meant little to no work, especially in hours where it was slow with no customers roaming up and down the aisles, but god were you wrong. you were the only one on the shift actually busting your ass off on the floor and at the register while all kuroo does is change the music playing on the store’s overhead speakers and hangs out.

sure, he does do his fair share of work here and there. occasionally he would even take over most of the manual labor of carrying all the new shipments of heavy vinyl records for the sake of courtesy, but at the end of the day, it was always you who would have to restock the displays every time.

so much for being a gentleman.

your feet hurt, your legs ached, your arms were sore. you were just glad that kuroo finally decided to get his ass up and actually walk around for once. he probably wasn’t planning on doing any work, simply just meandering through the aisles of vinyl just to see what to buy next with his 20% off employee discount. you honestly couldn’t care less. what you did care about was that the stool behind the cash register (aka the only place to sit inside the entire building) was finally free.

you settled yourself behind the counter, a sigh escaping your lips as your chin rested atop the palm of your hand.

you finally had a chance to rest. yet despite taking this rare opportunity, you couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit bored now that the store was practically deserted. then again, what did you expect from working at a small business? not to mention, it’s the twenty-first century and all forms of media was digitized and easily accessible by a single internet search. there were, however, a few old souls out there, still in love with the idea of having a physical copy of their favorite artist’s work.

you were easily one of those people.

there was something so endearing listening to strangers talk about their love for music—it’s why you started working here at TRAX in the first place as a sorry excuse to surround yourself with the physical embodiments of the best invention mankind has ever made. hell, you still had the old walkman that your father gave to you. it was from the 90s with its gray plastic chipping at the corners and scratched-off lettering. you even had his old cassette tapes always in your bag whenever you go out.

regardless, the quietness of the store wasn’t at all bad at times. if anything, you were fortunate that kuroo wasn’t annoying the shit out of you like he normally does—poking at your cheeks and teasing you to no end. in fact, it was a nice break from the overstimulation of the occasional busy hours that come out of the blue. from old men mansplaining how record players work to annoying middle schoolers trying to blast their terrible soundcloud songs on the store’s bluetooth speakers. perhaps the slow hours were a godsend.

it was absolute hell trying to chase those annoying thirteen-year-olds out of the store with the help of kuroo. causing a ruckus or not, the situation was a bit funny at the end. it was one of those rare moments you and kuroo shared a genuine laugh together.

a sigh escapes your lips then as you take out your walkman, plugging in the old headphones that came with it. the black, plastic ones with thin muffs whose wires tangle no matter how much you try not to. you place them over your ears.

today’s mood was classic 80s rock, something along the lines of queen, guns n’ roses, and journey beating into your ears as you let your eyelids rest for a few seconds.

however, your means to relax was immediately shut down when a hand snatches your headphones off of your ears.

“ouch,” you groan as the plastic of the headset scratched at your temple. you look over your shoulder at your coworker with confusion plastered all over your face. “what was that for?”

kuroo blinks with a sly smile on his face, “those things still exist?”

you flick him a look, “what do you want?”

“you don’t get paid to sleep on the job, you know.” kuroo gives you a pointed look as he hands you back your headphones.

you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. the audacity. “i get paid by the hour and the store is literally empty right now,” you defend as you click your walkman on pause, “besides, aren’t you the one slacking all the time?”

“only when the boss isn’t around,” he hums.

“the boss is never around,” you huff.

“speaking of an empty store,” kuroo starts once again, watching you wrap the thin headphone wires around the body of your walkman. “d���you got any spare change?”

your eyes peer at him slightly, “what for?”

“to get a drink from the vending machines down the street, obviously.” replied kuroo.

yet another sigh left your lips, licking at its dryness as you reached into your pocket to reveal a few fifty-yen coins. it wasn’t much, but it wasn’t like anything from the vending machines in the city was that expensive. just anything to get him off your back again for peace of mind. “get me a one too while you’re at it,” you mutter, tossing the coins into his palm.

“why don’t you just come with me?” he asks, curious.

you shake your head, “i can’t leave the store unattended.”

kuroo clicks his tongue, feigning himself from rolling his eyes and just tugging you along with him. “come on, it’s not like there are any customers.” he gestures onto the barren floor as if its emptiness wasn’t already obvious enough.

“do i have to?” you groan. you just got comfortable and you weren’t exactly in the mood to walk all the way down the street either.

“yes,” he said sternly, hoping that it was enough to sway you, but surprise surprise! it didn’t. his unsuccessful (and oddly pitiful) attempt at convincing you to come with him caused the corners of kuroo’s lips to dip into a slight pout.

no matter how annoying your coworker was, thinking he wasn’t at all cute or the least bit attractive was a lie. when you look at kuroo, you’re not entirely sure what it was about him that made your heart skip a few beats despite your brain thinking the opposite. was it his sleek obsidian hair that was always styled perfectly? perhaps it was his eyes that were so pretty that if you looked at him for longer than a few seconds, you would be entranced? or maybe it was his witty charm that despite being annoying, you still found his presence nice to be around?

whatever it was, you hated to think there was even the slightest possibility that you liked kuroo more than you would like to admit. and the worst part of it all? perhaps you did like him more than a friend.

and that was the biggest problem.

how annoying, you think.

“pretty please,” he begged, his warm hands suddenly finding yours in the midst of your internalized dilemma and pulling you out of your thoughts.

the action catches you off guard as you snatch your hands back from his abrupt contact. eyes wide and heart beating heavy, you gulped when you noticed how close he was to you then. the action of you pulling away from him only brought kuroo closer like some odd twist in fate.

your thoughts pondered a bit as you looked up at him, still patiently waiting for an answer as he gives you a comforting smile. perhaps kuroo stepped a bit out of line this time, and there’s no doubt he feels a bit bad about it. he was about to pull away and apologize but after your thoughts spiraled for a few seconds you gave in with a nod.

“fine,” you say, lifting yourself off the stool as kuroo steps away from you with a grin. you follow him around the counter, taking your walkman with you as you pass it.

you just hoped no one came by while you two were out. the last thing you wanted to do was get fired all because your annoyingly handsome coworker wanted to get a mid-afternoon beverage.

your shoes muffled gently against the store’s floor—tap, tap, tapping in some form of patterned unison as you and kuroo left the building.

the backroads of downtown were quiet. considerably so compared to the main streets as there was nothing but tweeting birds, whistling cicadas, and an occasional bicycler whizzing by. it was such a nice day, perhaps it wasn’t a bad idea to go out after all.

there was something incredibly calming about afternoon strolls down the street, feeling the rays of sunlight beaming down on your face as you further melted into an earth-smearing mood while you unpaused your walkman.

your headphones laid around your neck with the volume set on max this time just so kuroo could listen in. the corner of his lip quirked up a bit as you did so. it was like a nod of approval within a minuscule gesture. then again, you and kuroo always had a similar taste in music—messy and all over the place, but the classics are where you and he truly had the most in common.

the walk there was short and quiet. usually kuroo doesn’t mind being the one to strike up a conversation, but right now, it was as if he was trying to savor something at the moment that you couldn’t really pinpoint.

upon arriving at the rows of vending machines, kuroo slips in a few coins before pressing one of the buttons. he opted for a calpico, watching the can fall from behind the glass before bending down to pick it up. kuroo doesn’t even give you a look before he puts in the rest of your change, let alone ask what you wanted. the boy presses on the button right below a matcha drink—the exact one you were planning on getting.

he bends down when the drink dispenses and hands it to you on beat with the music emitting from your headphones.

“thank you,” you say, a bit dumbfounded as you opened up the can.

the slight confusion was evident on your face as kuroo couldn’t help but find your curiosity absolutely adorable. “i always see you with that drink whenever you come in for work,” he explains, chuckling as he takes a sip from his own. “assumed you liked it a lot.”

you couldn’t help but blush at his words, feeling your heartstrings suddenly tug at the thought that he knows you enough, let alone care to even remember such a minor detail. letting out a shaky breath that you hoped was drowned out by the music, you lamely attempted to hide the crimson red hues on your cheeks as you take a drink.

“i’m surprised you’d even remember something so insignificant about me,” you mutter as you two walk back to the store, yet this time your pace slowed along with his.

it seemed as if you weren’t the only one wanting to spend a little more time like this.

“i mean, it’s you.” kuroo replied, fingers nervously fiddling. “you are my favorite coworker after all.”

which wasn’t at all a lie. it was true. you were his favorite, but it was nothing more than a panicked and questionable explanation in the means of nonchalance. he couldn’t exactly expose himself out of the blue ever since you two talked about what you looked for in a partner. he recalled your words of wanting to find someone who cares about you and can remember every detail about you regardless of what it was. and much of his dismay of explaining his type to be the exact same of your own traits and characteristics, his sorry excuse of casually flirting completely flew over your head.

and if he’s coming to think of it now, all of kuroo’s sorry excuses of flirting probably went over your head. he mentally faced palmed himself. god, you probably thought he was the most irritating guy on the planet.

yet to his rapidly beating heart, you laughed, practically beaming at him. kuroo swears you could literally send him into cardiac arrest. “i’m your only coworker, idiot.” you tease before taking another sip.

he grins.

“gives me an even better reason to care then,” he hums, pulling the door to the store open just to be met with a thunderous shout.

you two were met with the owner of TRAX record store aka your boss. the short, pudgy old man with a receding hairline and a scowl on his face stood by the counter, arms crossed over each other like a disappointed parent.

“where have you two been?” he grunts, his familiar adenoidal and croaky voice ripping through your eardrums as you hurried to pause your walkman. “leaving the store unattended just to get drinks? you two are lucky i got here when i did because a customer just came by!”

your lips purse together nervously as the grip around your can tightened. kuroo notices your unease, giving you an apologetic look. he turns to face igarashi, your boss, “sorry sir, that’s my bad. i was the one who convinced (y/n) to come with me even after they said no.”

“oh really?” your boss tested. his hand came up to his chin to scratch the few strands of beard hair he even had. he scoffs, “of course it is.”

your neck swivels up towards kuroo as guilt melted into your bloodstream. knowing igarashi, he wasn’t the type to lay easy on simple mistakes. it was the only reason why you were glad he wasn’t here often in the first place knowing that he was like a ruthless hawk with eyes that followed you everywhere.

“it’s not entirely his fault, sir. i knew better but i still decided to go.” you muttered, refusing to look kuroo in the eye as he looks at you surprised.

igarashi lets out a huff as his eyes closed for a few seconds, “my therapist told me to take deep breaths whenever i feel as if i am about to lash out,” he explains before pulling himself together. he opens his eyes, tone much calmer now but the words were still like venom. “since you two were at least truthful about it, i will let it go this time, but know it won’t be the next time around. alright?”

you and kuroo nod, “yessir.”

“good. now, i want this place spotless by the time i come back.” with that your boss disappears into the back where he would be for the rest of the night–not helping at all. he stays in the backroom just to nap and to get away from his own unhappy marriage. you just hoped he stayed there until the end of your shift.

with your pulse calming, you took a sip of your matcha drink out of comfort, finishing all of its contents before throwing it into the trash bin. kuroo does the same thing, this time out of the fear of getting in trouble again as for the first time in a long time, you hear him ask you, “should we get to work then?”

you almost wanted to laugh. you were oddly giddy about working alongside him rather than vexed, nodding in response. both of you grab one of the grates of newly shipped records from behind the counter, ready to be put on display as you and kuroo worked down the same aisle.

with your walkman still on hand and your headphones wrapped around your head, you decided to play the cassette tape again just to ease the underlying awkwardness that was still in the air.

when you paused your walkman earlier, it stopped near the beginning of good old fashioned lover boy by queen. and the moment freddie mercury starts vocalizing, you could practically feel the ice around the two of you melt, heads bobbing to the beat as you two worked your way down the jazz aisle.

it went like this for the next hour. songs ranging from artist to artist, humming lightly to the beat of every drum. usually, kuroo wouldn’t last two minutes without complaining about doing work, but for once he didn’t mind knowing that you’re right next to him, mumbling the lyrics together in incoherent unison. if he knew working with you was going to be like this, he wouldn’t have been such a slacker after all. you could honestly say the same thing.

the cassette tape pulls to a stop, reaching the end of its duration as you and kuroo reach the bottom of the crate of vinyl records. as you reach inside to take out the last few albums, a gasp escapes you as your eyes fall onto one of the records. it was one that you have been dying to get for years now.

you put your walkman and headphone set down, grabbing the album.

“no way,” you grinned, capturing kuroo’s attention as he looks over at you curiously. “look, look!”

“tears for fears?” he says as a small switch flickers in his brain. “isn’t that your favorite 80s album?”

you nod, happy to think he even remembered that about you as you rush over to the cash register. you buy the album without a moment of hesitation, already freeing it from its plastic wrap as you reach kuroo again. you open the cover, beaming at its beautiful design. you couldn’t wait until you got home to listen to it.

at the end of every other row, there was a record player display that customers were able to use. taking out the delicate vinyl, you carefully placed it on the player’s mat with delicate fingers. you pick up the needle, hovering it over the edge of the record before placing it down gently.

on either side of the record player, there were hooks to hold headphones. each of which was connected to the machine as you quickly pull kuroo over. taking the headsets from the hooks, you put one of the pairs on before placing the other over kuroo’s ears, tiptoeing just to reach his height. almost immediately one of the most iconic songs of the decade stream into his ears. it was everybody wants to rule the world—one of your favorite songs.

you two stood there in silence, listening to the song’s nostalgic beats as your bodies faced each other. while you were looking over at the spinning black vinyl, kuroo eyes fell on you.

there was absolutely nothing in his wake to be able to take his admiration away as this, this beaming expression on your face had something special about it. it was as if his entire world was right in front of him, just an arms reach away.

his heart couldn’t slow for a minute as he could practically hear it over the music playing in his headphones. his breath gave way then, at the moment you turned to look back up at him with glowing eyes as if you struck gold. you consider yourself lucky being able to get your hands on such a rare vinyl, but kuroo considered himself the winner as he had you.

“do you like this song?” you asked him curiously, ignoring the way your heart started beating rapidly from the way he was looking at you with such care and admiration.

you were so close, you were literally right there. all of kuroo’s emotions that battered onto him like a cumbersome downpour can be relieved if he were to just say the words. a simple phrase, three short words, and a heavy heart beat. ready to leave his tongue and all would be done.

come on, just say it!

“I like you,” he says out of the blue, but his voice was a bit muffled due to the headphones.

your eyebrows furrow slightly, mouth suddenly running dry as your eyes widen.

did he just say what you think he just said?

you are not entirely sure what he said considering his words were partially drowned out by the music. you wanted to think that he did say the words of the impossible, but you couldn’t be so sure of yourself.

“sorry, what did you say?”

kuroo’s hands wrap around your headset, pulling them off of your ears and placing them around your neck. “i said i like you and i wanted to know if you wanted to go out sometime!” he says ratherly loudly. his headphones were still on him blasting tears for fears.

you couldn’t help but laugh, the back of your hand coming up to cover your reddening cheeks. warmth surrounded your heart, like a hug that squeezed at your chest in the most comforting way possible. you raise your hands up, cupping around the shell of his headphones as you pull them off of kuroo.

“you’re so loud,” you mutter.

as if fate decided to push you into the unknown with a strange burst of confidence within you, you got up on your tiptoes and leaned it. pressing your lips against his, soft and light, your skin ignited ablaze.

in a mere moment of serendipity just to test out the waters, you were pulled in deeper, mind blurring in satisfaction. yet it was nothing more than temporary as the sound of infamous footsteps gradually got louder and louder. panicked, you pull away quickly just seconds before igarashi emerges from the aisles, staring bullet holes into you and kuroo.

“i suppose you two are working?”

you nod, pulling your wrists out of kuroo’s grasp.

kuroo quickly answers, “we are, don’t worry.”

your boss lets out a suspicious hum as he gives you two one last look. he turns back around again, disappearing into the back.

a sigh of relief leaves you as you turn back towards the boy in front of you. he still waited for an answer, almost desperate to know as his eyes searched for an answer.

grinning, you pause the record player and kuroo watches it spin to a slow stop. “you’re an idiot,” you say with a laugh.

kuroo doesn’t seem to care at that moment, if anything he was just glad there were no one else was around. his hands wrap around yours again, “well, is that a yes or a no?”

“so that kiss wasn’t obvious enough for you?”

liking someone you found annoying was impossible, but liking your annoying coworker? now, that was a different story.

general taglist: @yongboxerrr @rosepetalhaven @tvwhoresblog @tanakaslastbraincell @kellesvt @kitsunetea @milktyama @anejuuuuoy

[sunqyu]

~ Treasure realizing they love you and the first time they say it pt 1.

Request 1: “ hmm im all in cute feelings, so FIRST I LOVE YOUS with treasure reaction thingy, would be super sweet 🙊💗🌼🌼 “ - anon

Request 2: “ i love your writing! treasure realizing theyre in love with their s/o🥺 “ - anon

These requests are both so adorable and fitting so I decided to combine them. Hope you enjoooy. Also, buckle up ‘cause ITS A LONG ONE AGAIN. Got carried away as usual so it’ll be in two parts. K BYE <3 - Nova

Hyunsuk

realizing it

it doesn’t take much to make Hyunsuk like you

but to actually fall in love with you

that’s a different story

he’s alone at the studio, trying to get his verse right

every time he fixes something he didn’t like, he notices something else

he’s sat at his desk, elbows next to the keyboard

head hanging down with his fingers tangled in his hair

a sharp inhale

a shaky exhale

then his phone lights up, a message from you, asking if he’s home yet and how his day went

2.30am, he reads

he starts typing, frantically, on and on as the chaos in his head makes it’s way onto his phonescreen

only for him to stop and delete it all because he knows what he really wants to send you

but it’s too late and he doesn’t want to be a burden, you need your sleep too

when he looks up and sees his own reflection in the, now dimly lit, screen of his computer

another sharp inhale

‘Not so great to be honest, can I come to your place?’ sent.

on the way to your house he’s still thinking about turning back

but all those thoughts are long gone the moment you open the door

your eyes beaming at him, messy bun wiggling side to side and you’re wrapped up in a blanket

his heart melts as he feels the tightness in his temples and neck from the stress subside

‘Hi- I missed you.’

you probably didn’t notice but he almost said something else

he snickers to himself, that would’ve been a bit early

saying it

definitely the type to say it without realizing what he’s saying

you two are getting groceries

which, even though it’s not a special thing, is always so much fun

this time you ended up playing hide and seek

it wasn’t really discussed, you just lost Hyunsuk at one point and decided to turn it into a game instead of calling him

which means it’s your turn now

it had been over 20 minutes and he was getting worried

very impressed with your skills

but worried

in the end he decided to call you

to his surprise he hears your ringtone behind him

he turns around

the ringtone is still behind him

he turns around

what the-

he turns around but really fast this time

his eyes meet yours a second before you start dying from laughter

‘How long where you doing that for-?’ he laughed in self-pity and disbelieve

when he finds out you never left he sighs

‘Ugh- I love you.’ he mutters inbetween chuckling

for a second he freezes, a thousand things running through his mind

but y’know what? fuck it.

‘Yea- it’s true. I love you.’

Jihoon

realizing it

also seems like someone who does not fall in love quickly

mostly because he’s not looking for it, he doesn’t feel the need to be in love to be happy

but once he does

oh boy

so when you came in his life he wasn’t thinking about a potential relationship

or wondering if you two would be compatible

he simply enjoyed your presence and you two got closer as friends

because of this the moment he realizes he has feelings for you will be overwhelming for him

wasn’t ready

you weren’t even doing anything different than usual

just eating in the yg cafetaria, both rambling about things

subjects that made people walking by look up because they didn’t get the full story

out of nowhere he fell hard

the mechanism that’s supposed to be his brain malfunctioning

croissant in mid-air

it all just made sense

the reason why he could never be sad around you

the reason that made your eyes twinkle more than anyone elses

the reason you saying his name sounds different than when anyone else says it

the reason he’s now sitting with his mouth wide open staring at you without really looking at you

‘Y-yea, I was listening. Ofcourse I was.’

saying it

probably says it on a special occasion

not planned or anything

it just seemed fitting in that moment

he realized before you two were even dating so it’s not like there’s any doubt left

still, expressing it feels like a very big step

it was quite a warm autumn evening

you were sitting on the floor at the salon table

filled with food from different places

‘I’m so proud of us.’ he beamed

you had just finished a very important essay which is going to be a great advantage when looking for an internship

he had just ended filming their third music video

‘I wish I could show you, you’re gonna love it.’ he mumbled before grabbing another bite

it looked like a feast but takeout-style

you continue eating, enjoying each others company

all the windows were open because of the nice weather

a soft breeze would ruffle the curtains

the subtle sound mixing well with the music

Jihoon had looked for just the right playlist for almost half an hour

and it couldn’t have been more perfect

the warm light of the candles was accompanied by a desklight

you got it out of your room because the ceiling light wasn’t cozy but the candles weren’t enough to see each other’s face (or the food)

the topic slowly drifts to more nostalgic memories

dates to the beach, your weekend in Japan, meeting his friends

‘You know what’s funny? out of all of those memories the one that is most special to me was a really simple one.’ something in his expression changed and you sat calmly, waiting for him to continue

‘It was a few days before I asked you out on our first date. We were at yg, eating something.’ he grabbed another bite of food, chuckling at your impatient response

‘I don’t know what it was but out of nowhere I realized I was in love with you.’ the words came out while he looked at his plate, looking up only a second before he continued

‘I still do. I love you-, even more each day.’

Yoshi

realizing it

there’s not really a specific moment where it hit him

his love for you grew gradually

which is exactly how he liked it

from the moment he met you he was never nervous around you

he never felt like he wasn’t good enough or like he had to try harder

everything made sense from day one

there would be moments where is heart could burst from it

like the time you tried to fix his broken jeans with a youtube tutorial

or when you first fell asleep on his chest

the worst was when he couldn’t see you for a few days

as if the love in him grew and grew but he couldn’t give it to you

he just felt like he was going to explode sometimes

the other boys would notice very easily

‘I know it’s only a few days, you guys are right.’

his mind didn’t listen to his own words

‘I’m fine- I promise.’

but if it’s a few more hours he might not be

he would go to bed quite early these days

after he noticed that trying to distract himself wasn’t working

he’d scroll through photo’s you took together

and photo’s he took of you

he’d sent you another text, hoping your phone was off so he wouldn’t wake you up

a strange mix of happiness and sadness

luckily once he realizes his sadness is temporary and it only shows how special you are to him he’ll be able to focus on the happiness

thinking about all the memories you’ve made and will make in the future as he slowly drifts to sleep

saying it

finally

finally he was going to see you again

it was only like three days but boy was he DEPRIVED

he was the first done packing

the first in the car

the first to run into the dorm and put his bag away

aaaand the first to run out the door again

you two had been texting all day about movies to watch and all the stories he wanted to tell

his knee bumped up and down in the bus

he couldn’t remember the last time he was this hyped

only three more stops

he gazed out the window chuckling at himself

who would’ve thought someone could make him feel like this?

his hand clutched on to the souvenir he got you

two more stops

an old couple got in

yoshi always had a weakness for happy old couple

but now especially

he smiled politely at them

admiring how in love they looked

that would be you in the future, he thought to himself

one more stop

his smile was still on his face

recognizing restaurants you two went to

clothing stores where you complimented his style

and then

the bus stop

it’s the one where you two met

he still can’t believe he managed to strike up a conversation with you that day

but it must’ve been meant to be

he looked around frantically as soon as his foot hit the sidewalk

the sound of your shoes on the floor came closer

he turned to face the sound and before he could even see your face he was holding you in his arms again

tightly as if to tell the world you were his

a deep sigh left his mouth before he mumbled into your hair

‘I love you- I missed you so much. I’m so happy to see you.’

Junkyu

realizing it

‘stop being weird-’ ‘says who?’

you and Junkyu were laying on his bed

both with your limbs spread out, staring at the ceiling

you weren’t sure how long you’d been there

he hummed along to the song you just put on

before being interrupted by the sound of his own stomach

‘Oh wow- sounds like it’s time for lunch.’ 

you nodded in agreement as you grabbed your phone

he started thinking about what to get, watching you tap away on your phone

your hair was laying in a circle around your head

a shadow from the ceilinglight behind your phone over your eyes

he noticed how you pupils dilated as they adjusted to the light everytime your moved your phone a bit

your eyes are cool af, woah

he turned to his side, still looking at your features while you scrolled on your phone

the song changed and this time it was you humming along

your voice is so nice, he thought to himself

his dreamy moment was interrupted by you looking at him

oh right- food

‘Uh- I want uh-..’

to his surprise you tell him you already ordered

‘What- what about me?’

you listed the things you ordered for him, saying how you definitely knew what he wanted by now

he was shocked

if you aren’t the SWEETEST MOST THOUGHTFUL HUMAN BEING

then he wouldn’t know who is

his dreamy moment continued, even though you were staring right back this time, confused

he never felt like this before

like he wants to fast-forward and sit in a rocking chair with you, grumbling about youth

wait

fuck

this is love isn’t it?

saying it

he promised

he promised he wasn’t going to fall asleep during the movie

but look at him now

soft deep breathing, lips slightly parted as he was laying against you

even though you didn’t want to wake him up you had already seen this movie with friends and the remote was all the way on the table

you reached forward in slow motion

slowly

sloooooowly

Junkyu moved, rubbing his cheek against your shoulder before mumbling under his breath and laying still again

that was close

the journey continues

slooooooooooowly

you were only 10cm away from reaching the remote

‘N-no hh.. stay h- ple ase.’

a dilemma

lean forward a bit more or sit back and just let the man sleep?

bit more

sloooooooooooooooowly

your fingertips grazed the remote and it wobble side to side

‘Babe?-’ that definitely sounded more awake then earlier

but when you look at him you see he’s definitely not fully awake yet

‘Come back to beeed-’ he whined

bed? boy, we’re on the couch

you didn’t mention it and instead quickly grabbed the remote before you sat back down a little faster

‘Th-nk yo-’ he held you tighter

‘Love you-’

wait what?

Mashiho

realizing it

seems like a hopeless romantic to me

so might realize quite fast

this man has been fantasizing and imagining his future love life for so long

not to the point where he’s yanking flowers apart to find out if you love him or not

but he sees the beauty in so many things

enjoys the warmth of the sun on his skin

likes to watch people going about their day and thinking what their life is like

leaves sweet notes on receipts for hardworking employees to find when they come clean his table

little things but a lot of things

he has an eye for beauty and knows exactly how to use it for his own happiness

so he quickly noticed how happy you made him

it was again, the little things

but so so many

how your pinky finger was always a little higher than the rest when your hands were relaxed

how the cute baby hairs on the back of your neck would always leave your ponytail within minutes of putting your hair up

how your foot would bounce up and down when you sat with your legs crossed, even if there was no music

how every time you called him cute he had to keep himself from calling you cute because he knew you’d hide your face in your hands right after

the way you sat against the mirror when you came to watch him practice

sleeves of his sweater to long for your arms as you clapped after each song

loving you wasn’t something that happens at one point

it’s built within him since the moment you met

it just grows and grows as you take care of it with your cuteness and love

saying it

so much snow

everywhere

the snowflakes were most visible under the light of the streetlanterns

appearing and disappearing as they went back into the dark nightsky

the crisp sound from under your shoes was relaxing

you and Mashiho had a snowballfight after finishing about 20 snowangels each

it had gotten dark before you knew it so now you were walking home

his arm around your shoulder, rubbing softly to keep you warm

you felt the cold water through your gloves but sharing bodyheat was all you needed

both of you had soft smiles on your faces, walking in content silence

and you were also just EXHAUSTED so the quiet evening was a nice change

in some of the houses you walked by you could already see christmaslights and trees

he noticed you looking

‘Lets get our own decorations soon.’ 

you nodded happily, leaning against him a little more

this was going to be your first christmas together

you never expected to celebrate it with someone this year

the idea of setting up a tree together and the coziness it would bring made him feel warm inside

you discussed fun things you could do for christmas

ways to surprise the boys or what you wanted to eat

he listened to you talk about memories and future plans

when he noticed how clearly he was already involved in those future plans he couldn’t help himself

‘Hey-’ he gave your shoulder a squeeze to make you look at him

‘I love you, so so much-‘

Jaehyuk

realising it

it was the first time you were going to meet the rest of Jaehyuk’s group

a little nervous but mostly excited you walked to the front door

he told you to text him when you got there so he could see you before the rest did

a few second after you saw he read your message the door opens

you get a kiss on the lips, a tight hug and a kiss on your forehead all after each other

he wanted to show you love but also wanted to mentally prepare you for what was about to him

don’t get him wrong, he loves the other members with all his heart but he could imagine them being a little.... overwhelming.

before he could even ask you if you were nervous the yells from the living room began

curious heads peeking out from behind his back, 11 hands reaching out to you as they all wanted to introduce themselves first

you could make out some teasing to Jae followed by someone’s voice trying to keep the peace

he looked at you with slight worry in his face, only to be greeted by a cheerful smile

before he knew it you were bashing out jokes left and right

even standing up for him a few times in the funniest ways

he couldn’t be happier

so many people he loved in one room

one in particular though

he took a moment to sit back against the couch and look around in awe

so happy

after a few hours and some good food it was time for you to go home

he watched you end your conversation with Asahi

who, to his surprise, seemed like he didn’t want the conversation to end

you waved goodbye to everyone and got loads of no’s and why’s in return

‘It’s late guys, she still has to go home.’

saying it

you still heard the whining when you and Jae reached the front door

you talked a few more minutes about how much you enjoyed yourself and the funny and awkward moments you two noticed

‘Apparently you don’t only make me happy but my friends too.’

you beamed at the compliment

even though you enjoyed the night as well, the validation that they did too meant a lot to you

‘So I’ve been approved?’ ‘Clearly.’

he insisted on walking you home 

you discussed the evening even more

he explained more about their personalities and memories he has with them which now made so much sense to you

your fingers were intertwined, arms swinging back and forth playfully

for some reason he felt a lump in his throat

but he couldn’t quite figure out why

it even distracted him from your conversation a few times

which is very unlike him so you noticed quickly

when you stopped walking to ask him what was wrong

looking him in the eye to show you you were not taking nothing for an answer

the determined look in your eyes made him realize what it was

what he had been holding back

but he didn’t say it

not yet

after a few minutes you reached your frontdoor

‘Thank you for the great evening, I’m sure they’ll want you back as soon as possible.’

he leaned in for a goodnight’s kiss, holding you close a little tighter than usual

for a second he pulled back

‘I love you-’

before connecting your lips again

[jasmehraj]

Timari out-sick au                                               

Marinette came to Gotham heart-broken. Her best friend, her first crush, her partner knows nothing about her. Nothing. Gabriel hit him hard on the head causing him to lose memory of last 4 years. She then punched Gabriel so hard the battle didn't last long. She was there when he woke up.

"Chaton you are awake?"

"Father? .....Who are you? Where is father and mother?"

She ran away from him and packed her bags. She ended up in Gotham. She did some research on Gotham's vigilantes. She was clearly impressed by Red Robin. He is very smart, analyzed every moment, very powerful and definitely handsome. He is her age and she is sure that he is handsome, there's no way he isn't and he is a coffee addict just like her.

In short she had a crush on him. She started going out as Rouge Gorge. Sometimes she shadowed the vigilantes and sometimes she went out alone. She disguised herself with Trixx's illusions. They all could sense her somehow and Red Robin always looks straight to her direction.

That is why she ended up in this situation. She went out a little earlier than usual. The bats had yet to come. She was running on the rooftops alone when she saw him. A completely sleep deprived man with many coffee cups in his hands. He probably wasn't aware of the people following him, probably muggers. She jumped into action as for some reason he turned to an alleyway. She took care of the two muggers. Where did the third one go? She turned to see the man had pinned the mugger. Subconsciously, without thinking, her stupid mouth said,"R..red robin?"

"So you are the shadow following us?"Well shit. He just confirmed it.

He took a coffee cup and chugged down a whole cup! Then he started coughing. Aaah he is falling. She caught him just in time. What should I do? What should I do?

She made the worst decision of her life. She took him to her apartment.

That's her story. Now she is sitting beside her crush who is laying on her bed, still unconscious. She took the cup he drank and smelled it. It smelled like, like BRANDY? What the hell?

That means he drank a whole cup of very strong alcohol even when he had probably never drank it in this much amount ALL HIS LIFE.

He suddenly woke up and asked her for bathroom. She led him quickly and he threw up. He is probably not aware of his surroundings. That is bad. He rinsed his mouth and she took him back to bed. He was very hot like literally very hot. He has high fever, vomiting..-I'll just check the internet. She then took some water and a cloth. She put the wet cloth on his forehead. He woke up an hour later.

"Shadow?"

"No I am not a shadow. I am Marinette."

"So your vigilant name is Marinette. Its very beautiful name." She felt her face heat up.

"No its Rouge Gorge."

"That's very nice too darling."

She huffed, her red cheeks betraying her,"Thank you."

"Its Ok love."

"Stop doing that."

"Doing what?" He looked like an innocent child. Like he doesn't know anything. Why the hell is he tilting his head at his side. That asshole is smirking.

She groaned,"Calling me these names..?"

"Well darling, are you not the same person who named yourself after me?" Now as if she could get any more red.

"Well that doesn't give a reason to call me those names."

He pretended to think," Well you are beautiful."

She turned away and ran out of there after yelling,"Message your friends, family or something. This conversation is going no where."

When she came back he was sleeping. She sighed in relief. Her cheeks were still red. Maybe taking her drunk crush inside her home wasn't that good idea.

________________________________________________________________________________

Tim slowly opened his eyes. He looked at his surroundings. He was in a bed and the room was unfamiliar. When did he get here? He remembers that while going home he was attacked and the shadow? He took a small knife from his inside pocket. He slowly got out of the bed without making a noise. He made his way towards the door where music was playing.

He slowly opened it to reveal a midnight hair girl working with some kind of..........clothes?

"Who are you and where am I?" She was startled and let out a slow 'ouch'. She put her finger in her mouth.

"You don't remember?"

".........No?"

"I am the shadow as you say. Let me finish. I was out when I saw you getting mugged. I went to help you. You told me you are Red Robin.-"

"I told you?"

"I just said Red Robin and you said Oh so you are the shadow. You drank very strong brandy which was in your coffee. How the hell did you manage to get Brandy in a coffee cup."

He groaned and said,"Jasoooooon....."

"So I didn't know where to take you so I took you to my home...... You were drunk. And.....-"

"And-" He raised an eyebrow.

"Well I told you that my name was Rouge Gorge you started flirting with me. I took care of you. Now you can go back wherever you live. You were sleeping from past 16 hours."

She was not looking at him. She was stitching? He leaned closer to see she was stitching MDC on a skirt.

He processed everything. She is MDC who is also the shadow and her name is Rouge Gorge which means, Red Robin. He flirted with her. SHE IS MDC. SHE IS MDC.

Now his whole face was red. This was the most embarrassing thing he had ever been in. He is going to kill Jason for this.

Just then the doorbell rang. That broke her out of her stupor. He was frozen on his place. He heard voices suspiciously like his family and ran to the door.

Dick was squealing,"Timmy got so cute girlfriend. She is so cute."

Jason laughed,"We are not sure that he didn't kidnap her. She is too good for him."

Damian,"Tt Why did you inbeciles dragged me here?"

Cass just said,"I approve."

Stephanie said,"He never mentioned you before, you are so cute and tiny. Speaking of him where is he?"

Poor Marinette was stuck between them as they asked questions after questions. Then their gaze turned to Tim.

"Oh god, where are your bags Tim? How is this possible? How are you not half-dead. You must be magic you got him to sleep."

"Timmy you were with her, for how long?"

"You got a girlfriend replacement? She is too good for you give her to me."

All the voices were mixing with each other.

"What makes you think she is um.. my girlfriend?"

"You messaged us."

He opened his phone and read the Message.

I, Timothy Drake-Wayne the CEO of Wayne Enterprises, am staying with my girlfriend Marinette. Don't you dare to come here.

What could he possibly say. Suddenly he remembered the MDC signature. He looked at her and said,"You are MDC?" pointing at her.

"Umm, yess." Her voice was barely audible.

He took her hand and sat on one knee,"Marry me."

"What we are not even dating."

"Will you go on a date with me?"

"I.... I guess?"

The silence was broken by Dick,"You are MDC."

"You were not dating?"

"Tt you are so dramatic."

"Replacement what is the meaning of this?"

Tim turned to Jason and said,"Thank you Jason."

With that he went out the door,"Be ready till 3 Marinette."

BONUS:

Louis : So how did you two met?

Tim: My brother put brandy in my coffee cup. She took care of me and when I get to know she was my favorite designer and how amazing she is....

Clark: And?

Marinette: He asked me to marry him, I said we are not even dating so he asked me for a date.

Louis :..............................................

Clark:...............................................

Cameraman:.....................................

Batfamily: (Laughing)

Louis: We give you our blessing for your wedding.

Clark: God bless you.

[redmaneroster]

Our Home Away From Home, Away From Home

[1] [2] [3] [4-5] [6] [7] [8-9] [x]

PART 10 – Domestication

Yang blinks awake. She wonders why her pillow is so dense until she realizes that she's patting down Jaune's chest. Her hand is dangerously close to his waistband.

She wants to move but can't. Below her, her hands run through the threads of someone's dark red hair. Ruby wriggles at the touch. She'd come back a week earlier. In time for the dance but she'll be gone again when it's over.

It's like her baby sister is slipping out of her hands. She wants to scream and shout. To demand that Ozpin give her back… but he wasn't the one who could make that decision for her. Her dad had made it clear, Ruby is the only one who gets to choose, and she chose Ozpin.

She dreads to think on what Ruby's actually chosen. What she'd picked over everything else. Her friends, her family, her team, maybe even her dreams of being a huntress.

Yang bites her lip. Ruby isn't a huntress-in-training anymore either. She's licensed and fully-fledged. Has jobs and is on record as the youngest to join an academy and the youngest to graduate.

Peeling back her bangs, Yang spots the scar running along her forehead. It's deep and an ugly pinkish-red. Jaune asked where she got it. She'd gotten too close to a behemoth and got clipped trying to dodge its tusk. She'd killed it, somehow. She wouldn't tell how, just that she did. If she really tried, Yang could probably extract the story from her; global secrecy or no. But she can't. Won't.

Suddenly respecting her privacy feels like a vice on her lungs.

Ruby grabs Yang's hand suddenly. She's still and her breathing is rapidly pouring out of her, but then Ruby tugs the arm into her chest and nuzzles into it.

It's like they're eight and ten again, when Yang would spend the day working herself to exhaustion to make sure Ruby had a fulfilling day, only to collapse in her arms. Then and only then did Yang permit her little ten-year-old self to breathe, rest easy, then finally sleep. She recollects it like a blur of sweat and aches she was entirely too young to have, but now that they've passed, Yang can hardly remember what any of those pains felt like.

How differently could things have gone if she'd had a father and mother to tend to them instead. Maybe not long enough to mind Ruby themselves, but at least long enough to rub her hair and tell her she did good at the end of the day.

Calloused hands run through her hair. She looks up to see Jaune spying her out of one eye.

"You're getting that scary, thoughtful look on you again." Not quite the loving encouragement she'd expected, but close enough. "I'd warn against developing some early wrinkles but I can't help but feel they'd look good on you too."

She laughs. "You can't be serious. Were you checking out my mom?"

"Pfft! Sure. Let's go with that." She rolls her eyes. He ruffles her hair. "But in all seriousness, you can't blame a guy for admiring that kind of craftsmanship." His thumb runs slowly down her cheek. "They chiseled you out good. You have all their best parts."

She blushes but pushes the feeling down. "God, Jaune, were you checking out my dad too?" she teases but her eyes widen at his brief pause. "Oh my god."

He waves it off. "It's nothing like that. Despite looking like he could bench-press a truck, your dad still manages to look the least threatening when he's got some alcohol in him. I had thought that the day I'd meet my girlfriend's dad, I'd be most worried about being hated. Instead, I ended up worrying I'd just disappoint him. Like making him sad was worse than getting him angry."

"Yeah, Dad's got a wounded puppy look on him. I think it's why Zwei listens to him all the time. Like he even makes the dog feel responsible for keeping him happy."

"He's a dangerous man."

"I hope the title is hereditary."

"Ha! What was that you said on our first date? You could total a car, or something? I think that qualifies as dangerous."

"Hm… Is that a turn on or does that make you afraid? Both, maybe?"

"I think I'd qualify as crazy if it was both. Do you qualify as crazy if you're still into me after that?"

"We could be crazy together." Her fingers run circles over his abs. "I could live with that…"

Ruby curls up and covers her ears. "Gross, gross, gross, gross, gross!"

Yang ruffles her hair. "Good morning to you, too,"

"Sleep well?" Jaune asks.

"Too well…" Ruby grumbles. "I don't think I could go back to pillows ever again. Maybe I'll sleep on Zwei or something… No, that doesn't feel right…"

Yang pulls her head up, inching enough along Jaune's chest to rest her head up against his chin. "I think it's the company. Missed your big sister that much, huh?"

Ruby's nose scrunches. "Yeah, I do." She crawls into them and snuggles in. She takes Jaune's hand and tugs on Yang's till they're hugging her now. "I'll miss you all so much when I'm gone…"

The way she words that digs a pit in Yang's chest. She squeezes her a little tighter. Her chest feels hollow for a little longer.

Ruby pulls out and Yang lets her go, but she jerks back a bit cause Jaune hasn't let go. "Sorry…" Jaune says. He looks like he wants to hold on.

"Don't be." The softness of her hands press warmly over his, and her smile shares its qualities. "I'd miss me too." She means it like a joke but it stops showing on her eyes and a frown worms its way into her cheeks. "I have to go get ready."

She glances over to the rest of the bed. Only Blake is there, her back turned to them. "Pyrrha's probably waiting for me downstairs. I'll see you two tonight, alright?" When she's pulling fresh clothes out of her travel bag, she calls out, "If Blake gets up, tell her we'll see her on the bullheads and grab a bite in Vale if she's late!"

JNPR's bathroom door shuts behind her. The door feels tiny from where they are, on the opposite side of a giant bed in the RWBY dorm room. Its distance echoes with the thrum of the muffled shower.

Jaune pulls Yang up and against him. "Sorry about this. I know you were looking forward to going with me."

"You shouldn't have to feel sorry for giving my sister a good time," she says. He can tell that she means it. "She's going to miss you too, and this might be her last chance to feel like a normal girl for a change. Besides, it's only sophomore year. We'll still have plenty of school dances to go to."

"I guess… Save me a dance?"

"I think I'll need a little more than one."

The distant pattering of the shower is notable when it stops in the quiet of the twin rooms. Jaune eyes Blake and realizes that her bow is on. "Didn't Blake stop wearing that?"

Yang shifts over his stomach and realizes how broad her outline is. "I don't think that's her."

They share a look before poking her in the head.

Ren groans and swats his hand away. He wiggles out and takes off the wig he's wearing, scratching his head.

They snort. "That's a good look for you," they say, realize they've said it at the same time, and high-five.

He groans again. "That's never not going to be weird."

"Not as weird as you in a wig," Jaune says.

Yang notices he's in Blake's pajama top too, sagging off his shoulder since it's so much smaller. "…Or in her nighties."

"It's called a jinbei." Ren shakes his head. "Before you ask, I lost a bet."

Jaune shrugs. "We figured. Not like we expected you to wear that for fun or anything."

He pulls on the delicate fabric. "Aside from the wig, it's very comfortable."

"Oh, I'll bet."

Ren rubs his eyes. "Jaune…"

He throws his hands up. "I'm kidding! … Not really. You want one in your size?"

"…Yes." He blushes which is weird cause Ren doesn't blush. But he does and it's adorable. They snap a picture. He can only summon the energy to scowl for a breath's length. "I should get going too."

"Why are you up so late anyhow?"

He blushes and he doesn't bother answering. They don't need one anyway.

-0-

The echoed bass of this year's dance bounces off the walls of the hallway just outside of reception.

Yang hasn't been on a dance floor in months and now the sounds feel alien. She used to attribute clubbing as a part of her, even as a freshman who could pass for eighteen. Breaking it down, it's clear that she only went out there to have fun. And she's been having a lot of fun elsewhere this year.

"I don't really wanna go in there," Oscar says beside her as they make their way to reception. They're both wearing green, to match hues with her eyes and to contrast his. "I'm starting to get dizzy on just the sounds of it."

"You get used to it," she says. "It's mostly just sensory overload. Just let it sink in and you'll hardly even register the music. It's meant to be white noise anyway so no one has to talk in silence."

"So it's, what, a social tool? Like a distraction?"

"Most of partying is. For all the awkward folks, it means they can hide behind something else while they get their wings. For the rest of us, the ones who've got it down, it lets us keep going. Longer than the night sometimes."

"I never thought of it that way."

She pats him on the shoulder. Even in flats, she's so much taller than him. "Try not internalize it too hard. It's easier when you're letting a conversation happen instead of trying to force any advice you hear into it."

"And if I end up in awkward silence with someone?"

"Then maybe you aren't talking to the right people. Take Ruby for instance." She points ahead of them, at Jaune and Ruby dressed in red together. They're talking and laughing. "You ever have a conversation just stop when you talk to her?"

"Yeah."

"Then she isn't the right people." She catches Ruby's glare but she goes back to Jaune pretty quickly.

"Uh… Oh! You're joking!" Oscar exclaims.

"Whoa! Hey! Don't take me seriously all the time. Half of me is comedy."

"It's often bad!" Jaune calls back.

"Shut up!" Yang giggles. "I have the worst boyfriend," she whispers loudly. Jaune pretends to be wounded by it.

"So…" Oscar rolls his hands. "I'm getting mixed signals here. Is it okay to have awkward silence?"

"Yeah! I mean… I guess had a bad example. It's okay if a conversation stops, but not when it drops."

He squints. "I feel like you're deliberately confusing me."

"I'm just not the most articulate person. Not like I learned to be social on a quotable handbook or anything. So when you talk to someone on something you're interested in, like, say, coffee –"

"-Or milk."

"Or milk. Yeah, let's got with that. Say you like skim milk – you monster –" he laughs cause he does, "then you know you've found someone you can talk to if they don't try to derail the conversation once they find out."

"Cause I brought up skim milk?"

"Cause they're still interested in talking even after you mention it. Someone you can talk to might agree and keep at it, or disagree but wants to hear your side of why you like it so much. Someone you can't talk to will try to change the topic after finding out what you like or not about something."

"I thought it was all about finding things in common."

"I think it's just as interesting if you don't. I hate Seven Rapids cause they're all noise and not even music to me, but that's precisely why Jaune loves them. Jaune and his sister used to be afraid of thunder, so when a storm hit their hometown, it was the only band they could listen to on the same pair of earphones without having to block out the other ear with something."

"That doesn't sound like he particularly likes it either."

"But it's a story I wouldn't have heard otherwise if I switched gears! Now we know each other a little better."

The bass thumps in their ears after they sign on in the registry and come through the doors. Blake is already dancing with Penny, Sun and Pyrrha are expectedly missing, and Nora is a having a subdued moment with Ren by the punch bowl.

"Ruby?" They're instantly stopped by Cardin Winchester of all things. His date, Velvet, trails behind him and crashes into Ruby first.

"You're back!" Velvet cheers. "For how long?"

"Not very," she says sheepishly.

"That big a deal, huh?" Cardin guesses. He continues before she can get uncomfortable. "We missed you at Leadership. Jaune cried."

Jaune rolls his eyes and lets it be… For an entire second. He punches Cardin in the arm and they laugh.

"I missed you guys too. Even the class. Ugh! Can you believe I miss waking up early for class?"

"I miss that feeling too," Velvet agrees. "When you're Juniors and Seniors, you lose half your classes and you're not even expected to attend most of your sessions. We're usually out on the field taking low threat missions. Even a noisy classroom is quieter than the woods."

Ruby rubs the back of her head. "I kind of know what that's like now, actually."

Jaune and Yang trade looks. Oscar tries not to look them in the eyes.

"We should get going," Cardin says, reading the room. "We'll catch up later." Velvet takes him by the arm and waves off.

Ruby, like Oscar, doesn't look them in the eyes either.

"It's okay!" Yang says soothingly, her a voice a titter with a laugh. "We won't pry. Just happy you're here."

"C'mon," Jaune says, taking Ruby's hand, "let's see how well Oscar taught you how to dance."

Ruby slaps a hand to her lips, trying feebly to hide her blush. "The punch bowl first, please. If it's spiked, I can pretend to be good at anything."

"Not a chance," Jaune teases. He kisses Yang on the cheek before leaving her with Oscar.

"He really is the worst," Oscar says, sarcasm bleeding off his cheek. "He's so sickeningly sweet. Wanna trade dates? I'd take him."

Yang slaps him on the back. "Ha! That's the spirit. I can see you're getting more comfortable."

Oscar shrugs. "I think you're just easy to talk to. We should go, too. I'm starving."

-0-

Ruby might have been right about the punch. Nora is loud and all over the place, but Oscar remembers a few stories about her and asks, "Is this how she normally is?"

Ren laughs, it's quiet and patient. He sounds older than he looks. "I don't think she qualifies for normal."

Nora crashes into a few people he doesn't recognize but they laugh and stand her up. They're all friends here. Or maybe Nora just has that effect on people.

"Here." Ren is standing in front of him with a plate of sushi, a black dip of some sort, and what looks like green clay. "Try one of these."

"You ever have these in Mistral?" Yang asks.

"Only the cities. Funny how my first time with it will be in Vale of all places."

Ren demonstrates with chopsticks, expertly grabbing the rolled sushi, dipping, then grabbing a dab of the clay before inserting it into his mouth. "Now you try."

Oscar takes a fork, stabs the sushi, dips it, end curves the fork's teeth into the clay-like thing, and shoves it in his mouth. He can only register Ren's panic when it's already too late.

"You took too much wasabi," he breathes.

Yang is already grabbing a cup from the punch bowl. Oscar's mouth explodes in heat. Then the rest of the night is a blur.

-0-

Ruby was right. Someone did spike the punch.

By now it's too late and they devolve into a flurry of laughter and dancing. No one seems to care that there's suddenly alcohol present, but a cursory glance reveals that the staff isn't even present. Coco does mention seeing Ozpin and Glynda alone in the plaza, and much of the staff was huddling in the dark trying to eavesdrop on them. Seems mischief is ageless.

Jaune and Yang don't dance. Ruby is too important for them to let the night be about them, so they dance with her instead. She's at least thankful that Jaune chose to lead her in a slow dance. She doesn't think she can keep up with him otherwise. Yang, on the other hand, is an expert on matching her pace. She's her big sister after all.

Oscar doesn't get to dance with her either but he's fine with that. What he isn't fine with is being completely hammered by one watered-down drink. Yang thinks its funny how similar he is to Jaune but the similarities end there. He gets swung around by Nora on the dance floor and the alcohol doesn't help.

Remembering this night mostly comes out as a thousand flashes. Their scrolls roll the whole night, and the photos flood the memory banks like they'll struggle to remember this night when it's over. Which doesn't happen because the alcohol doesn't make them drunk. Unlike Oscar, all the alcohol just serves as an excuse for everyone else to let loose.

Joan shows up in a dress and everyone has flashbacks of first year. Ruby jokes loudly about Jaune filling the dress out real well this time and most people momentarily forget that Jaune has a twin sister.

Somewhere down the line, they pour out of the dance and sing off-key in the garden, count stars in the courtyard, and then they're out on the roof where half their class has turned up for a grill off.

Jaune and Nora get so into it that they're scared out of themselves when Cardin shows up in an apron and a grill of his own. Yang remarks that Weiss would have loved the smell.

Oscar kisses Penny and Ruby doesn't know what to do with that. Yang lets her figure it out cause she's growing up and she can ask her whenever she's ready.

Nora's corsage gets caught in the wind somehow and Ruby jumps into action. She weaves through the crowd in a stream of red and rose petals. She's over the railing and she shows no fear as she leaps off the edge and curls over the shattered moon with the pink flower in her hands. Her smile is stunning, her confidence brimming off her cheeks.

Jaune and Yang hold hands at the sight. She's a burst of beauty that steals hearts.

There's a cheer when she effortlessly blurs back and falls into the crowd. She doesn't think what she does is anything special, but it is. She is. And everyone knows it.

And just when their spirits are highest, it rains.

Ruby doesn't leave the roof when it does. Her friends stay with her, Jaune and Yang especially. The look in her eyes tells them that she's barely holding something back.

They stand with her, letting the chipped pieces of them fall apart together so Ruby doesn't feel like she's alone. She tells them she's afraid. They tell her they are too. But fear doesn't get to take residence, it doesn't get to loiter and sink into the upholstery. They'll kick and scream until it's gone cause they never go down without a fight.

It sounds like they're all struggling blindly, but Yang tells her that defiance is only the first step. And that also makes it the most important.

In a moment of solidarity, Ruby screams at the top of her lungs as the rain hides her tears and her friends drown out her pain with defiant roars of their own.

And in the next she's on a bullhead, barely out of her dress, and she disappears in a sea of stars.

-0-

It's the weekend again, and Yang convinces Jaune to come to the apartment for the day. Walking back into it feels like a lifetime has passed him by. There's a layer of dust on everything and he resists the urge to wipe it all down. He can't spend the one day they're here this month cleaning. Maybe next month when he's got the lien to cover his half of the rent.

No, that's an excuse. He could just as easily ask for an advance on his allowance or pick up an extra mission to cover the gap. He wanted to push them both to stay in the dorm, but when Yang pushes passed him with a box full of last night's freshly developed photos, he can see the forced curl of her cheek that's just a little too wide.

Ruby's been again for a week. She might not come back. Yang needs a breather to reconcile with that.

She plops the box down on the coffee table as Jaune sorts out their dinner across the room in the kitchenette.

"Anything good?" he asks.

She waves a photo in the air. "You in a dress!"

"Ha, well… Wait, no, I didn't do that this year! That's Joan!"

"Pfft! Not when I post it and tag you. I expect continued confusion from the campus."

"Yang…"

"C'mon, it's funny!"

He tosses an orange in a basket and reminds himself to eat it later. It's not gonna stay ripe if they leave it behind. In his head, it suddenly sounds like a shitty metaphor. "You're allowed to be sad about Ruby leaving, y'know?"

She chuckles and whips back to him. "So are you."

He doesn't know how to answer that. He spent a lot of that night dreading her leaving but he hadn't expected her to up and go before midnight even hit. It's still jarring, unreal even. Like he could walk back onto campus and bump into her, cause that night was a blur and he might have just dreamt it ending the way it did.

A hip bumps into his, and he drops the pork chops back onto the counter. Yang doesn't look sorry but she hides her face in his chest and he lets her hold onto him.

"It feels like I'm still halfway down a landslide. With my parents and uncle are off to god-knows-where, and Weiss and Neptune fighting for the soul of her company, it felt inevitable that Ruby would just… follow after. And it's a little scary, y'know? I don't know when all of this stops. I don't know if I'm gonna keep losing people." She doesn't cry, but her chest feels tight. "It's like I'm either waiting to see who's next or if I'm gonna crash when I hit the bottom…"

She'd been putting up a strong front, but her bravado feels like it's slipping, and she already feels like it's going to break her. Finding JNPR had stemmed the tide. She even thought she might stop slipping altogether but then Ruby comes and just goes into the night…

Jaune's pulls out his scroll and she can hear him clicking. She only then realizes that his other hand is squeezing carefully on her waist.

"What are you doing?"

"Finding people."

"What? Who?"

He brings the scroll close to his face. There's a call and it goes through almost immediately. It's a voice she doesn't recognize but she can guess who it is. She's already familiar with the stories about her.

"Hey, runt!" comes a woman's voice. "Caught me at a good time. Coral's burning the eggs again and she could use a few pointers from her big brother." Yang can practically feel her wink.

"It's nice to see you too, Sable. You're the eldest in the house now, don't you know how to cook it?"

There's a snort on the other end of the line. "Please. Wouldn't know my way around the kitchen unless I crashed a car into it. And even then I'd only familiarize myself with the quickest exit."

Jaune groans. "You can't keep getting take-out and engorging everything your pit crew gets you. One of these days you're gonna regret never learning from mom. At least Coral's trying."

"Well, Coral doesn't have a job."

"Hey, I totally have a job!" a muffled voice shouts.

"And besides, the track keeps me busy."

Yang mumbles into Jaune's chest. "That sounds like an excuse to me…"

Jaune laughs.

"Jaune… who was that?"

"She's the reason why I called you in the first place." He's already propping his scroll up against a bundle of uneven loaf.

"Ooh! Do we finally get to meet this elusive girlfriend of yours?"

Yang sucks in a breath. It feels like she's stepped into a different space altogether and she's nervous now for very different reasons.

"Girls, this is Yang."

"Hi there." Yang hopes she doesn't sound awkward.

On the screen is a set of huddled blondes all crashing to get a view through the screen. In the middle is the cheeky one she guesses is Sable. Unlike her sisters, her hair is red fading into blonde tied in a braid over her shoulder. "Hey yourself. I'm Sable. I heard you're good with bikes. We should talk. Grease monkey to grease monkey."

Another blonde in a bob cut and glasses pushes into her cheek. "God… hi. You're so pretty. Are you sure you're a huntress? Jaune, please don't let this be a prank." She seems all over the place.

"That's Coral," Jaune supplies. "Don't mind her. She'll make proper sentences when she starts calming down."

A dark-skinned girl with dirty blonde hair is pushed into view. Yang remembers Jaune mentioning having an adopted sister with dirty blonde hair. The dark hues accent her and it's all the more stunning when some of the white strands she has makes it clear that all that hair natural. "Ahem, I'm Dahlia," she says with the tiniest smile. She looks fourteen but she doesn't sound it.

She tilts her head to the side revealing another fourteen-year-old hiding behind her. "And this is Liona."

"Uhm!" Liona nearly screams, "H-hi!"

"Is she alright?" Yang asks.

Sable waves it off. "Oh, it's nothing really. She's just -"

"See?!" Liona points at the screen, looking at the other girls. "It's another blonde! The curse is real!" And she's gone.

Dahlia sighs and gets up. "I'll go after her. It was nice meeting you, Yang."

"She's polite."

Sable shrugs. "Grew up in a strict house. We're still trying to shake it out of her but enough about that, why don't you tell us how you got all that hair to behave? Mine spazzes out if I don't tie it down and there's only so many ways to tie long hair before I have to cut it down."

Yang starts going on about products she uses and Jaune slowly starts slipping away. There's an excitement brimming off her cheeks, a confidence to bury any embarrassment she might have had. It's like she's not even here anymore. She's in Clove with his sisters.

He feels a tightness on his wrist. Yang gives him a dangerous look. "Oh, no way, buster. You're staying here so I don't collapse in on myself." She tugs him in and wraps an arm around his.

They're shocked when another voice comes in. "We'll aren't you two cute," says Helia, Jaune's mom as she peeks over Sable's shoulder.

The afternoon is a blur of conversation. Bikes and Cars are both similar and different enough that Yang and Sable get along quick with always something interesting to add.

Coral has a distinct fascination with Yang's hair and has non-stop questions. It's got loose strands and is the furthest thing from perfectly straight but Yang makes it work somehow and Coral has an intense need to know how. Jaune just calls it Xiao Long magic.

Liona and Dahlia, despite being respectively excitable and largely subdued, ask Jaune and Yang both about being huntsmen. Yang catches the way Dahlia's eyes go a little wide at the excitement and terror of their stories, and Jaune never fails to point out every time Liona chews her lip like she can't decide if being a huntress is for her. He lets her sort it out until she's ready to talk about it.

The only sister Yang hasn't met yet is Cori, the second eldest, and that's cause she's in Atlas. Jaune notes that she's keeping an eye on Weiss and Neptune for them. They stop the conversation when Sable tells her that they're really allowed to talk about it.

Helia – she still insists on Aunt Hess but Yang's still getting the hang of it – reminds them that they promised to have dinner with her and her husband.

And when it's all over and they wave their goodbyes, Yang's eyes are as bright as she remembers. "I wanna meet them," she says when they're on the couch.

"This summer then. I was planning on coming home. Sable might have to run a summer circuit for her sponsors but she'll still catch us. And Cori will be there for a week. We can even get Saph to come join us."

"Yes. That. Please?"

He pulls his scroll off the coffee table. "Alright, alright. Calm down. It's happening. Let me just drop Cori a line so we can figure out when it's best."

She hugs him. "Thank you," she whispers.

"For what? I only called up my sister."

"For this. Them. All of it. I really needed to get out of my own headspace."

"Back to Remnant?"

"Not quite. It still hurts. Just a little. I can't shake the feeling."

He gently pushes her away, grabs her waist, and thumbs her cheek. "Maybe a classic distraction will suffice."

She giggles. Her cheeks are warming up. "I missed this. Just you and me."

They press their lips together. She pulls him down with her against the armrest of the couch.

While he's holding her steady by the waist, her own hands can't seem to settle anywhere. One minute she's clutching the back of his head grabbing a fistful of hair, the next she's tugging on his shirt and stretching the fabric. Now she's on his neck, pulling him in.

He loves the way she tastes. Practically devours her lips until he coaxes her into his biting his.

He gasps and that hungry look in her eyes tells him that wants him to sing for her. His eyes are dangerous in response, pulling away only to bury his face in her neck. She shuts her eyes and expects him to bite, to mark her like they do every time, but he's suckling and her skin feels like it's getting more sensitive.

"Ah…!" She bites her lip. She wants him to keep going but she also wants him to do more. Her fingers curl into the back of his neck. Arching her back to the sensations bursting from his ministrations, she hisses before whispering, "bite me."

She can feel the way hot breath pouring out of his nostrils as she says that. You're a dangerous woman, he'd all but said. And with the look he gives her in the periphery, she can't help but feel him saying it with his eyes. He bites down and her back arcs again. Its soft and he's suckling at the same time. She wonders how that would feel on other parts of her body.

When she's curling into him, she gasps as her limbs act without her consent. Her arms wrap around his shoulders and her legs bend and clasp around his waist. She's already off the sofa and hanging off of him entirely.

"Yang…" he breathes. They pull back enough for her to see the manic look in his eyes. There's nothing coy about it. It's just hunger. Need. And after everything they've been through, she knows she wants it too.

He's looking down at her as he settles his breathing and lays her back on the couch. She doesn't let go, only now his weight is on her. As meek as she looks, he has to tell himself that she can take it, but the innuendo sparks dangerous images in his mind. It doesn't help that she's a hot, sweating mess.

She feels him pull a tent in his pants. It's nothing new. She'd even teased him about it now, but it's not out of place here.

Daring herself to look at it, she spies it in the space between their legs. It feels taboo to even bear witness, but in her half-hearted attempt to look away, she instead finds the tear in his shirt just at the collar. She doesn't know if she caused it, somewhere in all the tugging and moaning, it must have happened. In the afternoon sun, it's a clear sight line from his chest to his stomach. Sweat trails down there too and it drives her wild to follow it down.

His hand settles experimentally on her belly.

She looks up at him. His askance stare and bated breath do not need words. She nods.

It trails carefully downwards, delicate even at the shallow scratch of his nails. It feels like he's uncoiling tension bundled in her abs, and every line is a full, happy sigh sung from her lips.

He can't stop staring at his hand as it seems to go on forever over the valley of her stomach. A hand is on his cheek. He meets her eyes and she seems to dare him not to look away from her. Her other hand wraps around his wrist and guides it till snags at the hem of her shorts.

His breathing betrays him. It's practically telegraphing the tremors dancing in his chest. He doesn't want to scare her. The way she jumped back the first time they got this close still sends the wrong kind of shiver down his arm like he might burn her if he tried.

But she isn't afraid. Her eyes are half lidded, her breath staccatos but its even. Her hand tugs at his wrist again.

He undoes the button.

She gasps.

His finger traces the zipper.

She bites her lip.

A hint of panic settles in cause he needs to see what he's doing but he can't look away from her. She has no trouble staring at him herself. It's like she's in a trance and all she's interested in watching is him. So he swallows his fears and kisses her again. Her lips are welcoming but her tongue is a tidal wave that swallows him whole.

It emboldens him. Lets his fingers push passed the zipper and straight over the thin bit of cloth behind it. The fabric is like his own. Nothing special. Plain and normal, and makes him laugh against her lips and she laughs with him.

Her hand pulls his wrist over her crotch. His fingers graze the unshaven hairs down there. Then she lets go of his hand and trusts that he'll figure out the rest.

He does.

His hand is so much larger than her own. That's what she first thinks when his digits span over her southern hairs and inch its way down. He has to pull his chest away from hers to get an angle that doesn't twist his wrist, but she doesn't stop moaning into his mouth.

A heated line draws sidewards from his hands, like her legs are tugging closed along the path his hand into her mound. She welcomes it. There's no alarm bells in her head. She wants to bring him there and trap him

She's okay with this.

And when his fingers smooth over her entrance and finds exactly where to make first contact, her heart's already ramming into the walls of her chest. She wants it. A bite of his lip. Bodies press firmly together. She's already trapped him down there.

She wants it. She wants it. She wants it!

Yang pulls away. He's shocked out of her nethers. His fingers are still wet.

"Yang… I'm – I'm sorry, I –"

She closes into him and shoves his damp hand into his mouth. "How do I taste?" she asks, voice hot on his neck. Inside, she's screaming because it would have been sexier to taste it herself. Then again, she isn't sure she wants that.

"Like you," he breathes against the back of her neck.

She laughs. "What's a girl supposed to take away from that?"

"Because like everything else about you, it makes me want more."

The hammering in her chest has evened out. "I want this. You. All of it."

"Then what happened?"

"Nothing. I'm not scared. I don't even know why I was in the first place anymore."

"Is that what happened? Did it bother you? Not knowing why?"

She doesn't need to answer. Instead she pulls away, kisses his lips, and tells him, "The Aries."

"My car?"

"Yes. Could you go and get the installment cleared and… maybe grab us dinner? Please?" She doesn't want to have to say that she needs a bit more time to figure this out, but he's already kissed her and is at the door.

"Later?" he asks.

She nods, a giddiness worming its way into her cheeks. "Later. I'll be ready when you come home."

He loves that look on her. He'd kiss her again if he didn't have to go.

-0-

Blake gets a call from Yang. She has to pull away from Ren and Nora on the beanbag. She's barely dressed as it is (Nora's slovenly habits are starting to rub off on her) and she isn't sure she's ready to answer any questions Yang might have about what's going on between them.

"Yang?"

"Blake! Uh… did you just get out of bed?"

She glances at her roommates. Nora's waggling her brows and Ren has that tiny smile of his that is somehow far more embarrassing. "Something like that. What about you? Do I even need to ask about the fresh hickey?"

Yang is silent for a moment. "I almost had sex with Jaune."

Her eyes widen hysterically. "Almost? What happened?"

"I needed to sort some things out." Her eyes narrow. "Look, we're gonna meet again in an hour or two, but before then, I need to bounce the last few months with my best friend."

Blakes gives her a good-natured sigh. "Fine," she says with a smile she can't stop, "give me the whole story."

"It all started on the day I was born."

"Yang!"

"I'm… I'm only half joking."

-0-

It's sundown when he gets home. He half expects scented candles, ambient music, thick makeup, and lingerie. But there's none of that. She isn't even in the living room.

"Yang?" he calls out.

His scroll pings.

"Take a shower in the guest room and come meet me in your room, please?" It reads. He takes off his jacket and pulls off his shirt when his scroll pings again. "If you love me, you'll come in only towel. So please love me."

He sprints into the shower.

Minutes later he's mostly dry and standing in his own living room, staring at his bedroom door like it'll fall on him if he even dares to come in to see his probably barely dressed girlfriend.

He knocks.

A moment of silence, but it is quiet enough to hear her take a healthy breath before she gives him a nervous "I'm ready!"

He expects a mountain of nerves. Maybe even another try at the lingerie with a bit of snide confidence beneath a toothy grin. But when he opens the door, he finds a gentle smile sitting up in an igloo of blankets. There's no put-upon anything here. She's not trying to be enticing, or trying to get a rise out of him,

He can only call that look honest.

"Are you cold?" he asks.

The question shocks her into laughter. Cause he's fresh out of the shower and she's been cozy in these sheets for the better part of an hour now. "No, no, I'm plenty warm."

"Could be warmer," he says. He doesn't intend to flirt but it's already out of his mouth and she's matching the nervous, embarrassed smile on his cheeks.

"Maybe. Why don't you come here and find out?"

With the towel wrapped firmly around his waist, he locks the door behind him and crawls onto the bed. He doesn't get any closer though.

Now that he's up close, he can see the silhouette of her bare legs just between the sheets. One of her hands comes out to pull both sides of the sheet together while the other comes to reach for him.

He takes her hand, bare knees touching.

"Hey," he says. And it's goofy, and so like him that it blossoms something in her chest.

"Hey, yourself." She calms her own nerves again and he loves the way the shape of her straightens like she's conquered something again.

He's staring and he knows it but the moonlight is sinking in through the gaps in the blinds and he swears her hair can put gold to shame.

"I've figured out why I was so afraid before," she says.

"Of getting intimate?"

"Yeah…" Her hands are sweating. Her gaze is locked to their hands. "I've already shown you so much of me. I've carved out my deepest fears and fed them to you like I was trying to stuff you full. Cause I didn't like having them in me. Like mom, and us, and Vytal, and now my team… When I'm with you, I already feel exposed. And I'm okay with that. I'm okay with showing you all these sides of me but…"

She looks up at him, and their eyes meet. "I still have secrets." She says it like an apology. "But I'm not about to share my every thought but I find myself speaking my mind around you all the time anyway. I've been open but it's like I can't hide anything from you." She inches closer and her hand on the blankets tightens. "And this? Us? It's like I'm showing you all that's left. I'm no prude. I don't mind showing you a little skin."

He laughs. She doesn't wear much to bed. Not that he does either. "You never really seemed concerned about it, yeah."

"Yeah, but… doing this means I'm giving you something I can't take back or keep for myself. What I'll say or do when we do it will be new secrets and they'll be yours and… I was afraid of that."

Was, she said. He focuses on that.

His fingers run over her knuckles. She fixates on the way his hands are trying to hold her without getting any closer.

"What changed?" he asks.

"You… you showed me that you were just as scared." She remembers the way he was breathing only hours ago, staring down at her like he was scared of hurting her if he kept giving in to what she was offering. "It was like a hundred little things. Adrian, Terra, wanting to ruin your hair like an idiot for me…"

He scratches the back of his head. "I thought I was keeping a brave face on that one."

"Please. I love you but there's no way you were going to be comfortable looking an idiot again no matter how much you say it wasn't going to bother you." She sighs. "It's funny how that made me love you more."

Her smile falls away. "When I was younger, I was used to affection. It was like I had a mom and two dads. They'd dote on me and sing my praises like I could be nothing but spectacular. I couldn't go a day without being smothered by someone's love… Then… Then I lose Summer and dad shuts down. Qrow would try to be there for us and did everything he could while he was around but he always had to go to work. And I kept thinking if I was feeling like this, how did Ruby feel? How much did she feel that she was missing out on? So, I smother her with enough love to make up for everyone else, but every time I did, I was reminded of how much I missing for myself."

"And then we happened and it's not all the making out, or the cuddling, or the hickeys. I was afraid I'd have to give up this apartment cause I was overstaying my welcome, but then you smile at me and… Jaune, do you remember what you said to me that day?"

He's been flush this entire time. "I, uh, no, I don't."

"You told me it was already decided. Like I belonged here and that I never needed to work for it even if I tried my hardest to prove that I did. I didn't need to earn a place here. We were friends and you thought that was already enough."

He squeezes her hand. "It goes both ways, y'know?"

She squeezes back. "Tell me."

"I hated this apartment. When I first got it I thought I'd just bought myself a hole I could hide in while I drown myself." He eyes the walls, and even in the dark he knows where he'd had to plaster over cracks he'd punched into. "And it wasn't like I had anywhere else to go so I couldn't leave. I thought I'd maybe show up at the clubs and find someone else to warm my sheets, but even when I got propositioned, I couldn't dare to drag anyone else into what I'd put myself through."

"Then you showed up and I forgot what those nights even really felt like. It was just you, tearing every sordid, manic page out of my book and putting yourself there instead. It isn't just Terra you replaced it was… everything else. No more cold nights, broken sinks, or empty bottles. Even when things are quiet in the morning, it was nice to remember someone else was there that I had to wake up. It was nice knowing I had to cook for two. It was nice knowing that whenever I had to go out and do something tiring, or frustrating, or stupid… there was always someone waiting for me at home."

He lets go of her and makes for the vanity. A drawer is tugged open. Yang recognizes it as the one Jaune uses to hide the previous tenant's wedding ring box, but that isn't he pulls out of it. It's his flask. He sets there in full view of her. "I haven't needed it in months."

There's warmth against her skin. Even back then he said that she couldn't fill the gap of every torment but there it is. Definitive proof that she has. And it isn't just that she's done it, or even that she's done it for months, but also that she hasn't noticed. That the part of him with doubts has quietly slipped away.

And it's the same for her.

When he's back on the bed, she slinks her hands away into the blanket, clutching its two halves.

She's surprised at how easy it is to pull them apart and show him all of her. That doesn't mean it gets any easier with the way he stares at her. Yang has to resist covering up again.

His eyes trace the length of her arms down to her toned, steady legs. Back up to her abs and the swell of her breasts, to the soft coiling of her shoulder blades into her neck. This woman is built like a brick house and he loves every inch of her.

She'd already been staring at most of him before the towel on his waist slips away. The broad stroke of his arms, the wound tightness of his chest, his abs are pulled taut but his navel looks soft and boyish between the strong ridges. His legs are thin but muscled. She never knew she could appreciate the curve of a calf before but his legs help make him tall and it looks like she can dine on its width.

He crawls towards her and she welcomes his look of uncertainty as if it was her own. She falls back onto the sheets, prepared for him. One hand on her belly, the other pressed firmly over her beating chest. He doesn't move in to kiss her. He's stopped and staring somewhere on her breast. She almost cracks a joke about it but his hand comes up suddenly and runs along her skin.

"What happened here?" he asks.

There's the shadow of a scar beneath her left breast. She's surprised he can even see it in the low light. "Accident. I crashed my bike one night when driving home back to Beacon. It was… it wasn't a very good night. Assholes just drove on by and didn't bother checking in. Everyone sees an armed huntress and they think I can everything handle my own. Never mind that I was bleeding and calling out for help."

His eyes narrow. "People in this city suck."

"C'mon, they're not all bad. That boatman's pretty nice."

"Tackle."

"What?"

He snorts. "Yang, that's his name. Tackle. You're telling me we spent two weekends with him and you don't even know his name? You remember the old guy who sells dust? You meet him every month. His name's Shop and he's Tackle's brother."

She's laughing. Mostly from embarrassment. Mostly. "And how do you know this?"

"I talked to him?"

She shakes her head. "Y'know what, nevermind. I'm lying back here naked and you've got me thinking about old men and their equally old brothers."

"But hey, not so nervous anymore, right?"

He's right. It's so much easier to just talk to him. "Yeah. Much better tha-a-anks~! Jaune!"

His head's below her breast, kissing along her scar. He's doing it so softly that it tickles. "J-Jaune! Ha ha! What are you doing?"

"Kissing it better," he says matter-of-factly.

"Quit it! Ha ha! It tickles!"

He pulls his lips off her and leans over her, resting his forehead to hers. "No more bad memories. I'll rip out everything from before and give you something new everyday."

She nudges her nose to his. "Everyday?" she asks softly.

He shrugs but he means it. "I'm exaggerating but I'll try."

She runs a hand down his cheek. "Why do you always gotta do that?"

"Do what?"

"Just… be real with me? Some guys just stop at the sweeping romantic gesture."

"I think I'm incapable of being anything else with you at this point."

"Scary," she teases. "Jaune Arc, ever exposed. How will I ever contain myself?"

"Shut up."

She shakes her head meaningfully, something beautiful dancing behind her eyes. He tells himself it's love. "I can't. Words are all I have when I can't do anything with my hands."

He kisses her knuckle, its strength softening at his touch. "And why don't you?"

He's flush against her. Her knees curl around his waist. "Because I won't be able stop myself if you let me."

"Don't stop," he whispers. "Show me everything."

Her hand braces against the back of his neck.

He sucks on her lower lip. Then he does the same to the other.

She moans and it's raw and animalistic, but it's a symphony in his ear.

-0-

Yang plops onto the sofa next to him. "If this takes any longer, I'm going to tear my hair out."

Jaune takes a sip of his apple juice and eyes her passed the glass. She's been stressing out all afternoon. "I don't think you've failed enough tests to warrant a failing grade. Didn't you pass the exams?"

"I'm not worried about failing." A pause. She doesn't look at him when she admits, "I need to get a B."

His brow creases. "You only need to not fail to be a huntress."

"Yeah, but they don't let you be a teacher or a coach without at least B."

"You wanna be a teacher?"

She scratches her head. "No? Yes. Maybe. Look, I wanna have my options open."

He sits closer. She can feel his warmth on her hip. "Is this cause of what Qrow said yesterday?"

"Mom, actually. We were talking about how she wishes she was home and worrying about cracking an egg right instead of trying to crack open a conspiracy."

She doesn't need to tell him more. "Yang, our kids will still love you if you're not home all the time."

"But I'd like to be home all the time. I hate the idea of being gone for months and… ugh, look at me. Losing my mind on imaginary children."

"You're thinking ahead. It's what a leader does. I like to think it's what a Xiao Long does too."

Yang rubs her arm. "Yeah… leader." With both Weiss and Ruby officially off the campus roster, Yang had been voted as the new leader. It's strange having to trade teammates with JNPR every once in a while to get teams of three, but they're always all together now anyway. Still, the title hangs over her head and she's trying her best.

"You'll get used to it. Leadership isn't a hard class and you'll only officially start taking it next year."

"But sitting in it makes me think a lot. I didn't think a class with no grades could be so stressful… I mean, maintaining team psychology? I didn't think Ruby had to consider our wellbeing all the time, and now that I do, I feel like we all take our leaders for granted."

He puts a hand on her shoulder. "See, this is why we don't talk about Leadership outside of class. You gotta detox. What would you like?"

She tosses her scroll onto the coffee table. "These grades. I get this out of my system, and I can start worrying about everything else."

He claps his hands and gets up. "Okay, bubble bath, massage oil, scented candles, and cake it is."

She gives him a wiry smile. "Thank you…"

"What kind of cake?" he asks when he's sifting through the cupboards in the kitchen. "I can whip up the chiffon and icing real quick if that's what you're after."

She picks her scroll back up and thumbs through her messages. She goes through a backlog from Ruby. She met up with Weiss a few days back and the photo of them together (and Oscar getting along with Whitley in back) always manages to curl a smile into her. Among the images sent, she finds another with Weiss alone in her room. Neptune's not allowed to get close just yet but she's wearing the aquamarine necklace her got her for the proposal.

"I'm thinking Red Velvet," she calls out to him. "Maybe you can experiment again? I'd love to help you try."

"Nah, not this time. I couldn't get the red velvet to mix right even with Ren's help. I'll need to pick a lesson with mom when we get to Clove so I can get it down."

She gets an image from Blake. She's having afternoon tea with her parents. Ren and Nora are with her. Ren seems right at home with Kali, and Nora seems to have gotten Ghira to laugh. Somewhere in the background, Sun's teasing Ilia about someone on her scroll. She's turned a shade of pink, which does nothing to hide her blush. Looks like Sun managed to find her a girlfriend after all.

"We can do a different cake then," she tells Jaune.

"It's okay, I'll just order again." He already has his scroll up. "But we're getting three little boxes. I'm not letting you engorge the whole thing again."

She snorts. "You can't stop me from snacking."

He pinches the bridge of his nose. "Yang, one of these days I'm gonna have to buy a padlock for the fridge."

"Like a padlock would stop me."

His hand slaps the counter. "Okay, no bubble bath, and no massage then."

"Fine. Little cakes. But you know I can just order more, right? It's a joint account after all." It was her mother's idea to help them balance finances between them. It managed to get Helia Arc to talk to Raven. They get along. Yang doesn't know what do with that.

"Please don't do anything crazy with the account. It's the last installment for the car."

"Which I'm helping you pay for. I deserve a treat."

Jaune stops what he's doing and just stares at her. She's not normally this difficult. Or difficult at all, for that matter. "Yang, are you messing with me?"

She peeks back gives him a sheepish grin from behind the couch. "Yes? C'mon, you know I love you. You like eating them with me anyway. You need to get your head out of the rain too." Because their new tub is big enough for two, the massage is always the kind with a happy ending, and she's pretty sure the scented candles are just a silent joke between them at this point.

He comes around to sit next to her again. "I'm not the one worrying about her grades."

"And I'm not the one stressing about his car," she counters. "Don't think I haven't noticed."

Leaning back into the cushions, he loses any desire to argue. "I took good care of it…"

"I know you did, so it's not your fault. Just you wait. The mechanic will be back with a message for you any minute now to tell you it was a nothing issue and they can fix it in an afternoon."

She's on her inbox with Jaune now. They hardly send messages anymore since they're together all the time so instead they send each other the pictures they take so they always both have copies. They had a mission at the ruins of Glenn, a dinner date by the docks, drew on Ren's face while he slept, spent an afternoon hanging photos off strings on the ceiling, visited Cardin in the hospital (he's got a cool scar along his arm and neck now), took a hike in the woods, and there's a dozen more photos of them cozying up in the apartment. These have just been in the last month, too. With summer coming, they'll have enough photos to hide entire ceiling at the dorm.

Jaune leans over. "Why am I Hummingbird in your contacts? I thought I was Vomit Boy."

She snickers. "Well, you know how Blake's books have all those fancy words for sex? Like the word vagina is somehow too crass for 'erotica'."

He squints. "I already don't like where this is going."

"So we got to talking and she mentions how, in her latest book, the vagina substitute is flower, and what comes out is nectar."

Jaune buries his head in his hands. "Oh my god, Yang…"

"And with the amount of time you spend down there…"

"Yang!"

"Did you know that hummingbirds can consume up to eight times their weight in nectar? Those are rookie numbers. They should probably take notes from you."

He grabs her face and presses his forehead to hers, manic eyes meeting hers. "I love you, but if you have an off switch, you have to tell me."

She looks down and up at him again. She points to her lips. "They're right here, lover boy."

He pulls back and looks between her lips and the coy look in her eyes. "I… no." He huffs and crosses his arms. "Not doing it."

This throws her for a loop. "What? Why?"

He glances back at her. She wants it just as much. Now he's the one being coy. "Cause this is funny."

"Fine. Why don't I send Blake a few of these little facts. She's started writing and I'm sure she could use some our juicy details."

"Yang, no."

She's already typing down on her scroll. Jaune crashes into her and they fall back onto the arm rest. For a moment they struggle as Jaune tries to reach for her scroll until Yang decides to slip the device into the back of her sweater. If he goes for it, he'll reach have to reach in closer and their faces are already close enough as it is.

"And it's gone!" she cheers. "I mean, feel free to try for it again but there's enemy territory down here."

He thumbs over her cheeks. "Fine. You win." He says with a chortle. "I swear, Yang, you're impossible."

"And yet you have me anyway."

Their lips press together warmly, making them meld together into a host of mewls and hushed laughter.

Their scrolls ping. They go completely ignored.

-END-

And that’s it! I hope you liked it! There’s a sequel coming down the pipeline but for now I have a major Dragonslayer story to work on elsewhere on my ff.net and ao3 accounts. Maybe I’ll post a link here to it when it comes out.

That said, thank you to everyone who gave this story their love. I would not have made it this far without your support. Thank you. :’)

[apexlegendsimagines]

New Year Resolutions and Celebrations

Bangalore:

-She really just wants to get better at being a people person

-Not that she’ll be sociable like Mirage, but she does want to understand the other side of the fence

-Reason  being the events between Loba and Revenant

-She’s eager to celebrate her years of training that caused her to be able to lead the others as smoothly as they could be lead

-The group decided to have a pot luck kind of celebration so she does decide to bring an imported beer that she personally liked to drink in her early years. 

Bloodhound:

-They’ve never really celebrated the new year, it wasn’t a big deal to them since there were local traditions they did keep to 

-So their resolution would be to integrate some of the others holidays and traditions into their life

-This is their resolution since they never really want to forget how they were raised and what they grew to learn

-They actually grow their own garden. So they’d honor the group with a large platter of some of the fruits and veggies they have grown as Artur had shown them

Caustic:

-There are no real resolutions with him

-He only wants to kill using his gas and he only hopes it’ll continue to work and fool people

-But his resolution would be to make sure his bases are covered

-He’s pretty sure that no one will ask questions about the infamous Nox, but he will promise himself to go back and make sure all bases are covered. 

Crypto: 

-This is the year. 

-That is all. 

-Well, he hopes that this year he can smooth things over with Wattson. But it might not be the best idea. Since his purpose is to take down the games Wattson has loved and grown up with

-He doesn’t bring anything to the pot luck and certainly doesn’t drink anything there. He was dragged here by Mirage

Gibraltar:

-He hopes to move on from Nik, he does still love him, but he understands that he shouldn’t get involved with Nik’s life

-He know’s it’ll be difficult but regardless of the memories that will plague him during the games and outside them, he promises himself to work hard on understanding the good times and bad as just the past

-For the pot luck he does bring an Ika Mata which is a raw fish salad with coconut. He encourages others to try it and even enjoys a couple of bowls of it himself.

Horizon: 

-She hopes to find the answers to her prayers so to speak

-She hopes that as soon as she could, she’ll be back with her son. Asking for forgiveness and being apart of his life

-But also in the mean time she hopes to become friendly with everyone, as hurtful as it could be when she leaves. 

-She comes to the celebration with a couple of servings of shortbread cookies, these are defiantly a hit. 

Lifeline:

-She knows that the party they attended for the battery was the start, but she hopes to officially cut out all of the toxic people in her life

-Her parents were a start but there are some other people who she has her mind on, it’ll be difficult but she knows she will have the strength this year

-She would bring store bought/baked cookies. But she does mix in some oatmeal raisin cookies

Loba: 

-This year she found the Demon, this was the year she found the code to kill him

-But this is also the year she learned she would be the demons savior, should she choose to go through with her plan

-So she has multiple plans for this new year, she plans to make the choice, whether or not to end the demon soon or wait until the last possible minute. 

-She plans to move on from her trauma. It wouldn’t be easy but she knows she needs to move on with her life

-She brings to the party high quality cheesecakes of all kinds of flavors

Mirage: 

-He really does want to set aside just a bit more time for his mother. Her health is declining and so is her memory

-He just wants to be there for her more and continue learning as much as he can from her before she is totally gone

-He also wants to be prepared for the worst case scenario while also hoping he can have more than just this next year left

-He brings the drinks and pork chops. Yes he does and he is the designated mixer. He mixes some pretty strong stuff

Octane:  

-To be fair he has pretty much set the boundaries with his parents and is living the best life he feels is best for him

-He comes off as a jerk so in light of New Years, he will try to be nicer or less of a jerk

-In other words ‘less perfect’ 

-He brings the energy drinks for the old farts who won’t make it till midnight

-He also brings the kickin music

Pathfinder:

-He is familiar with this tradition since his various of jobs prior to joining the games included working in bars

-People would often gather, packed back to back just to scream “Happy new year” and then leave

-But when he asks the others about this tradition, they let him know the purpose of it

-So he sets up one main goal, to find his creator

-But his other goals include making more friends!

-He brings the face palms and such because he asks who he will kiss for new years since everyone at the bars has done this as far back as he can remember

Rampart: 

-She knows her skills. She knows she great. So she really doesn’t have to much to hope for this year

-But she does hope to one day start up her shop one day. The games are getting to easy so perhaps the challenges of clients would make her days funner

-She doesn’t bring anything but her joyful self and a large appetite. But once everything is eaten and she could still eat, she orders a couple large pizzas

Revenant: 

-He only hopes that Loba will kill him. He’s tired. 

-He’s tired of reliving over 200 years of memories and death just to wake up in a new body and repeat it all over again

-He really doesn’t care to go to the party. Why does he want to celebrate another year?

Wattson:

-She hopes to grow stronger, this year was really and eye opener

-So she hopes to learn how to choose her friends, but she promises to herself to continue being the kind person she always has been

-She brings backed apple brie, others claim its odd but somehow the sweet and salty taste make it addicting. 

Wraith:

-She hopes to move past her trauma of the experiments conducted on her

-After the labs were opened up for her to explore it all came running back to her, but with the friends she made, Mirage, Path and Wattson, she knows she’ll be safe

-She brings a bag of her favorite hard boiled sweets, lemon drops. 

[raleighcarrera]

29. Best Drunken Night vs Worst Drunken Night for Raleigh x MC perhaps? 🥺

best vs. worst prompts / 29. best drunken night vs. worst drunken night

the worst time 

“oh my god.” her voice is hushed -- awed, really, as she glances around the space they’ve closed themselves in with eyes so wide they feel likely to bug out of her head at any moment. “this is -- we’re in -- is this ariana spielman’s closet?”

cadence’s head whips around just in time to catch the disinterested, almost bored shrug of raleigh’s shoulders. “guess so.”

the door he’s leaning against is vibrating with the bass from the music blasting from downstairs. one of the silver buttons on raleigh’s jacket clanks against the wood loudly. 

“she has, like -- seventy birkin bags,” she breathes, slowly shaking her head as she takes in the expansive wall of purses to her right. “i can’t believe i’m in here. i can’t believe we’re even in her house.”

“i hate los angeles,” raleigh mumbles, pushing off from the wall and strolling over to her, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind. “this party sucks.”

admittedly, the party did sort of suck, but they’d had enough free drinks and free food to make the evening tolerable, even if the crowd at ariana’s house was mostly made up of the sort of c-list celebrities who were desperate to document everything on social media and tried to shove their cellphones in raleigh’s face every time he started mixing a drink.

it was never like this, at home in new york. most of their friends were cool and normal and while their parties were always the sort of events that kept them up until dawn they’d tended to be more low-key, lately, minimizing the amount of attention they got during what was supposed to be their down time.

out in LA everyone was looking for their fifteen minutes. so drinking downstairs with the rest of the crowd wasn’t just hanging out like it was in new york; it was a performance in and of itself. people were watching them, their thumbs already poised over a blank tweet.

she didn’t blame raleigh for disliking it. she disliked it, too. that was why she’d suggested finding some place they could be alone and let him drag her up here -- into ariana spielman’s beautiful, enormous closet.

cadence squeezes her hands affectionately on raleigh’s arms where they’re looped around her. “we can’t hook up in here.”

the sigh he expels into her ear is loud and exasperated. “why not?”

cadence lifts a hand to point up at the ceiling. “she has cameras.”

the pointed silence from behind her leads her to believe that raleigh doesn’t take issue with that as much as she does. “raleigh.”

“okay, okay. i’ll save it for the hotel. just -- i need a few minutes before we go back down there.”

she spins in his arms to look at his face. raleigh looks tired, in the awful in-between of drunk but not drunk enough. her expression softens.

ever-so-delicately, she leans in and presses her lips to the tip of his nose. raleigh sighs, tightening his grip on her. 

“you know,” cadence murmurs, “there was probably once a time where i wouldn’t have been able to drag you out of there even if i did want to have sex in ariana spielman’s closet.”

raleigh rolls his eyes. “untrue,” he argues, “i’d leave any party, anywhere, any time... for even five minutes alone with you.” there’s a beat where she tries to stifle her smile and he rolls his shoulders, pursing his lips before continuing, “but i know what you mean. i guess i just -- don’t see the appeal in playing along with all this fake shit.” his eyes focus on her face slowly, some of the cloud brought on by all the tequila they’d had downstairs lifting. “not anymore.”

she bounces up onto her tip-toes to kiss him, swallowing the drunk giggles that are threatening. if they weren’t going to commit, they probably should have drank a little bit less -- she’s wobbly and unsteady on her feet in a way that’s going to make their flight home tomorrow miserable, but not drunk enough to actually be having any fun at this party that is, admittedly, incredibly fucking lame.

raleigh’s hands squeeze her hips one last time before he pulls away. “we should probably go be seen for a little while longer, huh?”

her mouth twists sympathetically. “yeah. but we can leave in an hour.”

“here’s hoping.”

they shuffle back to the closed door together, though when raleigh reaches out for the handle it doesn’t budge, holding firmly in place. he frowns, jiggling the knob.

“what’s wrong?” she asks, blinking slowly, her brain struggling to process what’s happening.

raleigh’s frown deepens into a scowl. “i think it’s locked.”

“from the outside? no.” pushing his hand away, she tries the door, too, eyes widening when it holds resolutely still. “oh my god.”

“you’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he says, stepping away with a groan. “can we call someone?”

“i don’t have her number. do you?”

she squeezes his shoulder as he pulls out his phone, mumbling to himself. her head is still swimming, but even she can understand that lately it feels like neither of them can quite catch a break -- there’s always something.

and she definitely had higher hopes for their weekend in LA, and even tonight. she’d expected this party to be a chance to get away from it all and let loose, not be some place where they had to constantly keep looking over their shoulders for cameras.

“maybe it’s a sign we should just stay up here,” she suggests, nuzzling her face into raleigh’s jacket. 

the hum he gives in response is equal parts interested and annoyed. “don’t tempt me.”

the best time

they’re definitely past capacity on their penthouse.

everywhere she looks there’s wall-to-wall people dancing and drinking, laughing and shouting. the floor beneath her feet feels like it’s shaking from how loud the music is.

raleigh’s standing on the countertop in their kitchen. his eyes light up when he sees her.

raising his voice to be heard above all the excitement, he screams, “cadence! come up here!”

the crowd parts to clear a path for her, cheering as she makes her way over. climbing up onto the counter in her miniskirt is far from the most graceful thing she’s ever done, especially after the bottle of wine she’d had at dinner and the four or five or forty-five martinis raleigh had poured her, but she manages, and soon she’s squeezed into the space beside their cabinets with her boyfriend and he’s got one strong arm slung warmly across her shoulders while the other lifts the bottle of dom in his left hand high enough that the top smacks into their kitchen ceiling.

“a toast!” raleigh declares, to the delight of the crowd below them. she tilts her head to grin at him and laughs loudly when raleigh glances at her out of the corners of his eyes and then grins back, wide and goofy like the both of them are in on the same private joke. “to the beautiful, phenomenal, exceptional, fantastic, talented --”

“jesus christ, raleigh.”

“ -- brilliant,” he continues, even more loudly, “can i get a drum roll please? thank you, visionary, otherworldly, and of course, devastatingly sexy vinyl award winning cadence dorian!”

he doesn’t give her a chance to bury her face in her hands like she so badly wants to. as soon as people start to cheer, he leans down and presses his lips forcefully against hers, smacking a loud, almost aggressive kiss onto her lips. 

then he shoves the bottle of champagne in her face and forces her to tilt her head back to accept the drink he’s quite literally pouring down her throat, her laughter giving way to coughs that make him laugh, too, the broad palm he’d had settled on her shoulder slowly making its way down her back to rest on the curve of her ass.

“to cadence!” roars someone again from the floor, and as everyone pounds their feet harder, she looks back to raleigh, flushed and grinning while he drains what’s left in the bottle and immediately switches it out for another. 

“speech!” raleigh crows into her ear, “speech, speech, speech --”

“oh my god, thank you everyone!” her palm claps over his mouth and doesn’t move even when his tongue licks across her hand slowly, back and forth and back again. “it means so much to celebrate with all of you tonight. thanks so much for coming and for all your support and -- remember that anything that happens here tonight was all raleigh’s fault, okay?”

the volume on the music increases as the crowd turns their attention back to dancing. raleigh slips both his arms around her waist from behind and presses up against her, somehow managing to stay on-beat with the swing of his hips despite the fact that he’s so drunk he can barely stand. she laughs as she rocks back against him, then laughs louder when he groans lowly into her ear.

“don’t think that you can get away with murder just ‘cause this party is for you, okay?” 

the words are said so quietly she almost misses them, each consonant soft and slurred. “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“yeah, right,” raleigh counters, the sharp bark of his laugh punctuated by the way he presses forward firmly, the hard line of his body shiver-inducing even through the layers of fabric between them. “you think i’m just gonna let you get away with that? i’m --”

“you should at least get down, if you’re going to do that.” cadence blinks, glancing down to see zadie screaming up at the both of them. “we don’t all need to see you dry hump each other.”

raleigh’s arms tighten around her before she can even think about moving, though her face feels hot beyond just what the alcohol should’ve done to her. “hey,” he calls back, “it’s her party.”

she wiggles down to her knees, plucking the mostly full bottle of dom from raleigh’s hand and holding it out to zadie with her eyebrows arched. “call it even?”

“totally,” she agrees, taking the bottle from cadence and departing back into the living room with barely a wave over her shoulder. 

cadence moves the rest of the way down and slides to the edge, letting her legs dangle off the counter. within moments raleigh is beside her, gangly limbs tangled around her again near-immediately. “are you having fun?”

“best time of my life,” she answers honestly, though that was how parties with raleigh always felt -- like he was in constant competition with himself to outdo their last evening out together. “thanks for making this so special for me.”

“i’d do anything for you.” his voice is suddenly oddly serious, out of sorts with the playful mood he’s been in. she blinks at him, then laughs when he shatters the stillness as quickly as it’d come by ducking back in to steal another kiss. 

raleigh jumps off the counter abruptly, before she can deepen the kiss to something more extreme, and hooks her legs around his waist from behind. “c’mon, popstar,” he directs, before she can question what he’s doing, and as if on autopilot, her body swings onto his back so he can carry her, her hands finding his hair and her lips spreading into a delighted smile. “let’s go get you the kudos you deserve, eh?”

[epiphany-of-a-madwoman]

The Last Dragon | Witcher & Game of Thrones

Chapter 6 | Silver Towers Turned to Dust

Summary: Visenya Targaryen is the eldest and only surviving child of Rhaegar Targaryen and Elia Martell. When Robert Baratheon’s rebellion was won, instead of being slaughtered by the Mountain like her mother and siblings, she was saved by Ned Stark and taken as his ward. Years later, after she’s killed at the Red Wedding, she wakes up outside Blaviken. Now she finds her destiny intertwined with the White Wolf on her quest to go back home.

Word Count: 7,465

Note: Click here to read the previous chapters ♡

The road winds and turns ahead of Visenya, like a labyrinth that never ends. The sun bathes everything beneath it in a soft glow warm, the miles upon miles of farm fields surrounding the road basking in its radiance. Fields of overgrown grass tinged gold by the sun act as the walls around the dirt road, swaying lazily in the breeze. Yet the sun is deceiving, a chill hangs in the air, causing any travelers Visenya passes to bundle themselves further into their cloak. However, Visenya finds herself no longer affected by the cold. The fire that laid dormant just under Visenya’s skin since waking up in Blaviken furiously fighting the cold in the wind. It bubbled just under the surface, enough for her to sense it but calm enough to not cause any harm.

She’s been walking for days, mindlessly following the road, allowing the winds to guide her to her next destination. Six days. It’s been six days since the catastrophe that is Blaviken happened. And despite her best efforts, Visenya can’t seem to forget about it, no matter how hard she tries, it lingers in the back of her mind. 

Every night when she lays down to go to sleep, kept company by only the stars and the trees around her, Visenya can hear the screams of the people burning alive. They echo in her mind, coming together in a sick melody, the tones grating and harsh. When she closes her eyes, even for a brief second, she can see them, their images clear enough that she could taste the fear in the air. She’d watch them burn, performing a dance of fire and blood, the personification of what House Targaryen stands for. 

But the worst part isn’t the memories following her, haunting her like ghosts. It isn’t the regret and pain she feels whenever she remembers the terrible faint she bestowed upon them. No, the worst part is she didn’t care. Even on the hardest days, when she was too stuck in her melancholy she didn’t care. Their faces were fleeting, their lives unimportant, and their potential non-existent to Visenya. 

She knows she committed mass murder in same way her grandfather did and she feels nothing. Nothing but a dark obsession with the fire she created. 

So she runs. She locks away Blaviken in the same spot the Starks, her mother and siblings, and her own life reside. 

To the left the grass rustles, breaking Visenya from her thoughts. Turning her head, she sees nothing but tall golden grass lazily swaying in the breeze; no animal or bandit preparing to ambush a lone traveller. Her eyes narrow, surveying the area one last time. A pit rests in her stomach as anxiety creeps into her mind. And as her hackles raise, so does the fire inside of her, ready to incinerate any potential attacker. But there wasn’t anything there. She rotates her body, looking in all directions hoping to spot whatever was the cause of her sudden dread. Subconsciously, her hand rests atop the pommel of her blade, readying herself to unsheathe it in a moment's notice. 

But even as her keen eyes focus on the surrounding area, taking in every minor detail, she sees nothing out of the ordinary. 

A second passes and she's about to turn around and continue towards the nearby inn.

Crunch. 

She turns to her right, ready to unleash hellish fury on the cloaked figure standing before her. She raises her blade and brings it down towards them. The figure manages to nimbly dodge out of the way. In another fluid, motion Visenya strikes, however the blow never manages to make impact, as a blunt object makes contact with the back of her head. And as her body falls to the ground, another figure approaches. Black blotches dot her vision as the figure pulls down their hood, revealing wheat gold hair, sun kissed skin with freckles dotting their cheeks, and pointed ears. 

The person, man or woman, she can’t tell - speaks to another person. The language is light and musical and completely foreign to Visenya. Her ashen brows furrow and she tries to speak, but the words get caught in her throat. So she tries again, this time managing a pitiful whine that sounds more like a dying animal than a person. 

The figure's attention darts back to Visenya, an alarmed expression painted on his face. He says something else to the other person and then turns back to Visenya.

“Get some rest why don’t you,” A moment later, Visenya watches as the pommel of a dagger cracks on the top of her head, rendering her unconscious. 

                                                    o0o0o0o

It’s cold, that much is obvious, so obvious Visenya - who never gets cold anymore - notices it. Not the type of cold Winterfell bestowed upon its inhabitants, pelting them in its relentless bitter chill and glistening snow that would freeze a man to death without hesitation. No, it’s a different type of cold, the one that can only come from pain and suffering that’s so strong it bleeds into the air and syphons any joy until all that’s left is frigid air that’s still like a statue. 

She doesn’t hear anything, not even the distant sounds of footsteps or voices that slowly trickle into the room. It’s completely silent. The walls in the room are made of stone, with tiny rays of light pouring through the small windows. The ground beneath her is cold and wet, either stone or dirt - she isn’t sure. 

And for a moment Visenya thinks she could be dead, that her attacker put more force into their strike than originally realized, but dead people wouldn’t be tied up. Her hands clench, feeling the rough rope that binds her wrists, it’s frayed and old, but tied tight. 

She turns her head slightly to the right, seeing a head full of bright white hair and a wolf pendant hanging from his neck.

“Geralt.” Her voice sounds like it hadn’t been used in days, which is possible. Who knows how much time has passed.

She feels a surge of anger rushing through her, images of Renfri’s dead body lying on the ground, blood pouring from the fatal wound on her neck. And for a second she contemplates screaming and yelling at Geralt, scorning him for what he’s done. But as soon as it appears, the feeling fades, ice cold water pouring over the fire in her veins.  

“Jane.” Geralt replies, turning his head so he’s looking at her. His amber eyes stare at Visenya, brows furrowed. “What are you doing here?” 

And just like that the spell was over. Like water breaking through a dam, ambient noise streams into the room, filling Visenya’s ears with distant shouts and feet pounding. And the air… the air feels less dead.

“I don’t know, I was traveling to a nearby inn when I was ambushed. Same as you it would seem.” She turns to her left to try and get a look at their third companion who’s knocked out cold. His skin is pale like ice, but not as luminous or enrapturing, floppy brown hair that looks well washed and conditioned obscures his face. Bright blues and reds color his clothes that are ostentatious and impractical for travel, with sleeves that are slightly puffed at the shoulders. 

Definitely not a warrior. 

Geralt starts jerking to the left and right, attempting to free his arms from the bindings locking them in place. Combined with the sudden movement and grunts of frustration he’s letting out, the man wakes up. His lolling head shoots up, his eyes fantcally surveying the room. They land on Visenya for a moment, his eyes the same shade of blue as his shirt, before they flit to the corner of his vision. He lets out a small sigh of relief, his tense posture physically deflating as he leans against Geralt’s back. 

“This is the part where we escape.” he says. Any panic or fear that he initially showed upon waking up is gone, replaced with a sense of ease and confidence. But not in his abilities, no, he seems positive Geralt will get them out of this mess. 

Visenya can’t help the snort that leaves her mouth. 

“This is the part where they kill us!” Geralt exclaims, not amused by the man behind him. 

“Who’s they?” Visenya asks, hoping one of them could catch her up. Nobody gets the chance to reply however. A woman clothed in poorly made garments and long brown hair burst into the room.

Like a wild boar charging towards its target, she moves to the man behind Geralt, lifting her leg in a smooth motion and driving it into the man's chest. A cry of pain escapes his mouth as the wind is knocked out of him. In a language foreign to Visenya, with similar intonation to the one she heard before being knocked out, the woman says something in a scathing tone. She says the phrase at him like a cobra spitting venom. 

Like the wind, the woman then moves to Geralt greeting him in the same manner, before finally moving to stand before Visenya. Her features are pointed and regal looking with delicately pointed ears. Her eyes are the same shade as the forest during the darkest night, a mix of emerald and black with a hint of silver streaming in from the moon. She would be ethereal, in a goddess of war kind of way, if not for the heavy bags under her eyes, in shades of blue and black or the sunken appearance of her face-- a sign of under-eating. But she’s proud and angry-- like a roaring lion as it shows its teeth. 

Visenya golden eyes narrowed into slits, challenging the foreign woman to treat her as she did Geralt and the other man. And she did not disappoint.

Despite looking as if she could deteriorate any second now, she kicks Visenya with the force of a fabled giant, rendering Visenya breathless. For a brief moment, everything goes black as small dots cover her vision. But she doesn’t move back into the bodies behind her, or let out a grunt of pain. Her pride is too strong to show weakness, even when she’s at an obvious disadvantage. 

Warm liquid begins to pool in her mouth and without hesitation, Visenya spits it out. The crimson liquid sprays in the air, the woman narrowly managing to avoid being hit.

“Elves!” Geralt exclaims. Another man in similar garb to the woman comes into the room with an ornate lute in hand. He begins buckling at the strings, breaking them as he goes. The sound is painful, similar to the noise of silverware scraping against a plate, but worse. It lingers in her head, only to return enfold when the man breaks another string. 

“Oi that’s my lute. Give that back!” the man exclaims, more concerned about his lute than their safety it would seem. 

“Maybe focus on staying alive.” Visenya mutters, wiggling to try and loosen the knot around her wrist. 

“Quick Geralt do your- your- witchering thing!” the man finishes, unperturbed by Visenya’s comment. 

“Shut up!” Geralt yells, before being kicked by the woman again, a crack resonating in the room. Visenya’s face scrunches up in a wince, the sound worse than the pain probably is.  

Like a predator circling its prey, the woman makes her way back to Visenya. She leans down until the two are eye to eye, and doesn't hesitate to slap Visenya across the face, the force causing her head to swing to the left. Before she has a chance to recuperate from the blow, the woman punches the other side of Visenya’s face. Her hands slid down, finding purchase on her cloak. 

The cloak Sansa made for her. One of the only things she has left of the Starks. A reminder of a time when things were simpler and she still had a home.

“No please don’t--!” Visenya desperately pleads, but it’s too late. The woman tears the fabric of the cloak. The side that had the dire wolf embroidery completely torn off. She tosses the piece behind her, bringing another hand towards Visenya’s face. The smack resounds in Visenya’s mind, her inner dragon roaring at the offense. Her skin heats up as her emotions grow unstable. 

The smell of rope being singed fills the air, the binds holding Visenya loosening, however the rope is too thick to immediately burn off. When the woman’s hand makes contact with Visenya, she screams in pain and immediately recoils, tenderly touching her burned hand. The injury doesn’t stop her though. Instead she moved onto Geralt, yelling something in her foreign tongue. 

“My eldar speech is rough, I only got part of that.” the man sarcastically quips. The woman dances around Visenya, refusing to even look at her. 

“Humans, shut up!” she spits, glaring at the man. He then replies to her in the same language, using that same sarcastic tone. 

“Do you wanna die right now?” she says, her tone more hostile than before. By this point she’d moved so she was directly across from the man in blue.

“As opposed to later?” Geralt venomously yells, once against trying to loosen the restraints. While partially singed, the rope is incredibly durable. 

She swiftly kicks the mystery man in the gut, simultaneously the man with the lute breaks another string. She then moves around to Geralt

“Leave off!” Geralt yells at the woman. “He’s just a bard.” he finishes. She responds with a punch to Geralt’s face, a third string breaking.

“You don’t deserve the air you breathe.” she says, fourth string

“Everything you touch, you destroy.” another punch to the face, and the final string is broken. The man with the lute then proceeds to break the instrument over his knee as the woman finishes Geralt off with one more blow to the face. 

“You hide in your golden palace. You beat a bound man, too scared to even look him in the eye!” 

“Do you like my palace? Hmm?” she replies, maneuvering back to Geralt. She lowers herself to his level, grasping his chin in her hands. “Does it live up to the tales you humans tell?” she asks. Geralt responds with a head butt. The force knocks the woman to the ground and she begins coughing profusely, unable to stand up.

“Haha! Take that pointy!” the man yells. “W-wait what’s wrong with her?” the man worriedly asks once the coughing and wheezing doesn’t cease.

“She’s sick.” someone replies, two more figures entering the room. A man with blonde hair and a… goat standing upright.

“I’ve seen it all.” Visenya mutters to herself, ashen brows raised towards her hairline. Her mouth is turned downwards, watching the...creature enter the room. 

“Oh and who’s this?” the man asks. The blonde figure moves to the woman profusely coughing on the ground. 

“He’s Filavandrel, King of the Elves.” the goat-man replies, rushing to the other side of the woman. Visenya snorts to herself.

“One hell of a kingdom, even better subjects too.” Visenya mutters under her breath. Filavandrel responds with a piercing glare towards Visenya, but she simply snarls at him, baring her teeth at him like an animal. The blood she spit from her mouth earlier stains her mouth deep red, making her look more like a wild animal rather than human. 

“Not a king. Not by choice.” he says, taking the pack the goat-man gave to him. He turns his attention to the woman and gently picks up her arms. Her hands are bright red, small blisters forming where Visenya had burned her.

“How did you get burned?” the man asks, his voice so quiet Visenya had to strain herself to hear, despite their close proximity.  

“The girl burnt my hand when I touched her.” she replies, looking past him to scowl at Visenya. Geralt looks at her briefly, his brows furrowed and eyes squinted. His gaze soon switches back to their captors.

“You mean you can do that?” the man to her left exclaims, wiggling around in his spot. Visenya pointedly ignores the man.

“You were stealing for them.” Geralt says. The goat whipped his head around towards Geralt. 

“I felt for them. They were forced out of Dol Blathanna.” he says. 

“Forced out? No they chose --” the man begins, sounding as confused as Visenya felt, although for different reasons probably. She has no idea what an elf is, and even less what this goat creature could be identified as.

“Do you know anyone who would willingly leave their home? To starve? To have a Sylvan steal for them?” Filavandrel interrupts, he then turns his attention back to the elven woman. “Touruviel, no one was supposed to get hurt.” he scolds her. 

“What’s three humans in the ground when countless elves have died.” she responds, her voice lacking the fire it held previously. 

“Two humans.” Geralt rebuttals. “And you can let them go.” 

“Then Posada will learn that we’ve been stealing.” Filavandrel replies, standing from his position, moving towards them. “The humans will attack. Many will die… on both sides.” he spits, moving to stand in front of Geralt. 

“The lesser evil.” Geralt gripes, obviously unamused by the current events. “No matter what you choose you’ll come out bloody and hating yourself. Trust me. “ Geralt says, conviction behind every word. 

Visenya continues to stare straight ahead, not looking at anything in particular. Flashes of Blaviken enter her mind, but she forcibly pushes them away. 

Filavandrel simply shakes his head, he kneels before Geralt. “I can’t. And this is necessary.” he replies, leaning over to unsheathe a dagger. 

“I understand.” Geralt says. “As long as you understand it won’t be long before you join me.”

“Yes, because they pushed us from viable soil.” Filavandrel says. “Even chaos is polluted. Synthetically enhanced so humans can make magic.”

“Chaos is the same it’s always been, the humans just adapted better.”

“You say adapt, and I say destroy.”

“You are choosing to starve. You’re cutting off your own ear to spite your face.”

“Do you think this is about pride?” Anger simmers under the surface of his words, the rage barely kept in check. “My elders worked with humans and got robbed of everything they had. And when they fought back, they were slaughtered. “The Great Cleansing,” humans call it. I call it digging a mass grave for everyone I loved. And now the humans proudly watch these very fields grow… our babies fertilizer for their grain. I don’t want to bury anyone else.” He pauses, his voice turning more somber.

Like tiny flares, memories flash into Visenya’s mind: Running around The Red Keep when she was a child; tightly holding onto the skirt of her mother’s dress; reading her any book she could find after she gave birth to Aegon and was bedridden for nearly a year. She can almost smell The Red Keep, a cacophony of floral from the gardens, incense trickling through the windows, and the musk from ancient books. 

“I was once Filavandrel of the Silver Towers, now I’m Filavandrel of the edge of the world.”

There’s a pause, everything in the room growing still. Visenya moves her gaze to her left, looking towards Filavandrel who is still sitting in front of Geralt.

 His face can only be described as defeated. His silvery blue eyes are dull and dead, a stark difference to the glittering brightness they probably used to burn with. They look more like a foggy sky, the crystalline blue sky muddled by dirt and pollution. His lips are pulled into a thin line, lines embedded in his forehead and around his mouth. His cheeks are sunken in as well, dirt spotting his sun kissed skin. 

“I understand.” Her voice is raw, why is it so raw? “When I was five, my family was killed in a rebellion. My mother and siblings were murdered, and my father fell in battle. The savage who killed my mother was pardoned and the killer of my father became king. Neither suffered any consequences. In fact, the bodies of my brother and sister were wrapped in cloaks in the color of their killer to be presented to the new king as a token of loyalty,” 

It’s strange, speaking about past events outloud and remembering each detail so vividly. She’s always known their fate, the sound of her mother’s screams keeping her up in the middle of the night, the sound of her skull being crushed haunting even the sweetest dreams. 

“I was raised in a foreign country by a family not my own. But I adapted.” 

Filavandrel moves from his spot in front of Geralt to instead kneel before Visenya. She manages to wiggle her hands from the partly burnt rope, grasping Filavandrel’s hand in her own. He recoils in shock but doesn’t pull away, his eyes locked on Visenya.

“I never forgot my dead and neither should you.” she continues in a much softer tone than before. “But I adapted,” Visenya says, looking Filavandrel directly in the eye. “And you can too.” 

He simply continues to stare at her, his eyes boring deep inside her own. An air of hopelessness and sorrow surrounds him, his light blue eyes are more ancient than his youthful face should allow. And he’s beautiful, despite how malnourished and dirty he is, dressed in rags that are ill fitting on his scrawny form. She can see past all of that and visualize the former glory he used to possess before everything came crashing down. 

“I can’t.” he says. “If my people come down from these mountains, that would mean bowing to human sovereignty. They’ll make slaves of us. Pariah’s from half-blood children.” he fiercely exclaims. 

“Then go somewhere else.” Geralt interrupts. “Rebuild. Get strong again. Show the humans that you are more than what they fear you to be.” he finishes. Filavandrel releases himself from Visenya’s grasp, moving back to Geralt.

“Like you, Witcher?” 

“I have learned to live with them. So that I may live” Geralt simply replies. The woman stands from her sitting position, moving over to them.

“Please my king. There are others. A new generation. Evellian who wish to fight!” the woman nearly shouts, burning passion lacing each word. “Let us take back what’s ours. Starting now” she finishes. Filavandrel leans over, grasping the hilt of his dagger once more. 

“Wait!” the Sylvan exclaims, grabbing onto Filavandrel’s shoulder.

“Torque, stand aside.” Filavandrel exclaims, jerking his shoulder out of the Sylvan's grasp.

“The Witcher could’ve killed me. But he didn’t. He’s different, like us.” the Sylvan finishes. Filavandrel simply shoves Torque away with his shoulder, staring intently at Geralt, his eyes occasionally flickering back to Visenya.  

“If you must kill me… I am ready. But the Sylvan’s right.” Geralt intervenes. “Don’t call me human.” he holds his head up to expose his neck to the elves. Filavandrel moves to the other side, directly across from Visenya, holding up the dagger high in the air. Visenya’s eyes squeeze shut, not wanting to watch Geralt and their third companion be butchered. Like lightning, the dagger flies through the air and a sharp crack rings in the air. The ropes binding their arms loosens and falls to the ground. Visenya cracks one eye, then slowly the next. 

“Oh good, we're not dead. Love it when I do that.” 

                                                       o0o0o0o

“That was a nice touch, the whole ‘I know how you feel’ thing.” The man mutters to Visenya, a lopsided grin resting on his face. His floppy brown hair is disheveled, pieces of it sticking to his forehead due to sweat. Some blood spills from the corner of his mouth, where the elven woman hit him - multiple times. His bright eyes look at Visenya like a puppy would look at a child, wide-eyed and full of wonder. “Really sets a vulnerable tone.” he finishes, strumming the new lute Filavandrel had gifted him to replace his now broken one. 

Geralt is a few steps away from them, gathering his weapons and other items the elves took when they captured him. Despite not looking at them and giving no indication he’s listening, Visenya knows he is. His attention seems too intently focused on the pack in his hands. 

Visenya simply rolls her eyes at the man, moving across the room to retrieve her possessions. As she passes him, Geralt nods his head in acknowledgment but says nothing. His eyes are scrutinizing her face like she’s a locked box that he’s attempting to unravel. Not that Visenya can condemn him for his curiosity, only moments ago she revealed a piece of her life in Westeros. However, Geralt was merciful enough to not vocalize his inquiries and for that, she is grateful. 

“I do believe this belongs to you.” Filavandrel stands behind her, a familiar longsword in his hands, offering her the blade. Visenya grasps it, the cool metal of the hilt a stark contrast to her warm skin. The silver dragon design coils around the hilt, the gleaming red gemstones set in the design imitating two draconic eyes peering into Visenya’s soul. The blade makes a soft shing as it’s slowly unsheathed. The smooth metal glistens in the light as the soft sunbeams reflect off it. She takes her time intently inspecting the blade, memorizing each slight imperfection from the extensive battles it’s seen. 

“A dragon on the hilt, an interesting touch,” he notes, watching Visenya tracing the details of the blade with her eyes. Filavandrel notes the reverence in her eyes, often not seen in an untrained soldier with a sword. 

“A gift from a friend,” Visenya answers his unasked question, eyes moving to meet his. His gaze is as intense as it was before, however, the delicate smile resting on his face eases any discomfort. His eyes move to Visenya’s cloak, torn from where Touruviel had ripped it when Visenya was bound. Her hand follows his eyes, feeling the ribbon of the cloak with the embroidered wolf. It limply dangles from her shoulder area, the damage far beyond anything Visenya’s skill could fix, at least to make it appear as it was before. 

“I am sorry about your cloak.” he apologizes, guilt flooding his facial expressions. Visenya simply shakes her head, hand dropping back to her side. 

“It’s fine, could've been worse.” Visenya shrugs her shoulders, not sure what else to say. 

“Yes, but that doesn’t change the fact that, while the weather is comfortable during the day, the nights are cold - too cold to go without proper supplies.” he rebuttals. His concern for her comfort moderately amuses Visenya. Her lips faintly turn upwards, not a full smile, but enough to show her gratitude towards Filavandrel. 

“I don’t find myself getting cold these days,” Visenya answers, her voice softer than the hints of sunlight flooding the room. A stark contrast to the severe tone she’d used moments ago towards Touruviel. 

An amused expression snakes itself onto Filavandrel’s face, his soft blue eyes alight with humor and an upward curve of his lips. “Even so, I feel I should still apologize on Touruviel’s behalf. She can be overly zealous concerning her convictions.” Filavandrel replies, his tone apologetic. Before he can continue with needless apologies, Visenya reaches her hand out to grasp his own, cutting him off. 

“You don’t need to apologize. Your people have seen the worst humanity has to offer.” Visenya remarks eyes quickly darting to Touruviel who’s been watching Visenya intently, hands ghosting on her dagger as Visenya makes physical contact with Filavandrel. Her gaze moves back to him as she removes her hand from his. “She holds an explosive passion for her people, perhaps you could learn a thing or two from her.” Visenya teases, her words lacking any bite to them. A hearty chuckle leaves Filavandrel’s mouth, the humor returning to his eyes.

By this point Geralt and his companion have walked through the doorway to leave, Geralt awkwardly hanging by the exit watching Visenya, not attempting to be subtle. In his hands, he holds a pack that distinctly resembles hers. 

“Perhaps so.” he muses after his laughter silences. Noticing where her gaze is, Filavandrel turns towards the exit, holding his arm out to Visenya, offering himself as an escort. She delicately weaves her arm around his elbow, a nonverbal cue for them to move forward. 

“If I thought I could, I’d point you in the direction of my aunt, Daenerys. From the information I’ve been given, the people have taken to calling her the Breaker of Chains. Her army and three dragons would make for a worthy ally to your cause and a fearsome enemy to your oppressors.” Visenya absentmindedly says as they get closer to the exit. Upon closing the distance between them, Geralt tosses Visenya’s pack towards her, which her free hand catches with ease.

“Queen Calanthe would be cowering in her palace.” Filavandrel muses in a light-hearted tone. “However from your phrasing and previous information, I gather this aunt is somewhere my people can’t reach,” he adds, taking note of her slightly crestfallen tone. 

“Your assumption is correct.” Visenya plainly replies, staring straight ahead. Her thoughts once again wander home. The desire she’d felt to sail east had burned like ice in her veins upon hearing about the return of dragons due to Daenerys. The only thing keeping her was the loyalty she’d felt to Ned Stark and by extension - Robb and the northerners. A small part of her wonders how different things would’ve been if she had left, sailed to Slaver's Bay and never looked back, joining her Aunt in war as opposed to the North. Would she still become food to the crows, or be covered in glittering jewels worthy of a dragon princess. Would she don glorious plate armor, the design similar to her own father’s? These distant thoughts matter little, Visenya made a conscious choice to stay, and in turn die, in Westeros.

While Visenya was too busy lost in her own mind, Filavandrel had guided her out of the building the elves made their sanctuary, far away from bigoted humans. The natural crevices in the walls act as windows, allowing for natural sunlight to stream into the hall. The sun is in the beginning stages of setting, creating a warm glow, making the beings in the vicinity appear ethereal and surreal. Visenya’s eyes trace the faint halo above Geralt’s head, the sun reflecting off his white hair beautifully. 

Beautiful; not a word Visenya would think to use to describe Geralt, but it fits.

Geralt and his companion wander ahead of them, the Witcher never more than three steps from her. It warmed Visenya’s heart, that despite hardly knowing her, he felt the need to protect her - something Visenya doesn’t doubt he’d be easily capable of. Despite the elves vastly outnumbering them, they were starving and Geralt is highly trained and they were starving.

 The elves they pass watch them warily, most wearing vicious sneers on their faces, keeping a scrutinizing eye on the humans. A few of the elves reach to grasp their weapons, preparing themselves for a fight. The floppy-haired man carefully watches his surroundings, his expression giving away his nerves as he worries his bottom lip. Geralt seems completely calm - if he is aware of their hostility, he remains unbothered. But if Blaviken was any indication of his treatment, hostility is something he’s very familiar with. 

The closer they get to the exit, the brighter the sunlight grows, the elves becoming more frequent until eventually, they reach what seems to be the main entrance. Filavandrel pulls his arm away from Visenya’s and moves towards the front of the group. He opens the door, motioning for Geralt to move through. He mutters lowly to Geralt, the witcher replying with a simple grunt. Next through is the floppy-haired man, nodding in acknowledgment at Filavandrel. Visenya’s gaze locks onto Touruviel, who’d been stalking behind them, her razor-sharp gaze locked on Visenya, who offers the woman a small smile, attempting to diffuse the elf’s rage. Touruviel responds with a sneer, clutching her injured hand that had been wrapped in bandages. She spits something at Visenya in her native tongue, lacing the words with venom, but makes no hostile movements. 

“Perhaps the finest thing to come from this is making your acquaintance.” Filavandrel’s words pull Visenya’s attention back to him. He’s still standing by the door, arms outstretched towards her. A beaming smile rests on his face, his eyes no longer weighed down by the responsibilities that were thrusted upon him - at least for the moment, making his timeless face appear more youthful. It’s so infectious Visenya can’t help but return it. She moves towards him, placing a hand on his shoulder as she passes. 

“I’m flattered, your grace.” Visenya quips, light joking lacing the formality. He raises his eyebrows at her joke but does nothing else. She moves past the door with a hand still on Filavandrel, feeling the fresh air hitting her face. She turns to face him, his body moving like a magnet to match her. “About what Touruviel said earlier about a new generation wanting to fight back,” she remarks, Filavandrel opens his mouth to interrupt, but Visenya pushes on before he can. “You can count me in. It would be an honor to fight alongside your people.” she finishes. The light expression on his face instantly shifts into disbelief, his eyes, however, look at her with an admiration that wasn’t present before.

“You shall be the first ally I call upon,” he claims, managing to regain his composure. Visenya responds with a beaming smile. Her golden eyes - beaming with delight - could rival the sun on the hottest summer day. She leans forward, placing a delicate kiss on his cheek. 

“I promise you, my life is eternally richer by meeting you,” she tells him, and she means it. “Until we meet again Filavandrel,” she adds, before releasing her grip and moving towards Geralt and his companion. Geralt is watching with a neutral expression and his arms crossed over his chest. His companion’s composure is the exact opposite, watching with wide eyes, trying to take in every detail of the scene before them. Unknowingly to Visenya, he is planning his next ballad, based on what unfolded before him. She moves towards them, not stopping once she reaches them but just continues forward. Geralt and his companion follow suit, however, the man rushes forward until he’s keeping pace with Visenya. 

“I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure to formally meet my lady,” he comments, dashing to stand in front of Visenya. She pauses her movement as the man kneels before her, grasping her hand in his own. “Julian Alfred Pankratz, but you may call me Jaskier,” he says as he attempts to pull her hand towards his lips but Visenya jerks away before he can. 

“Jane.” she plainly replies, hoping to not encourage the man further. Either he doesn’t get the hint, or he decides to disregard it.

“I am but a humble bard blinded by the beauty of the woman before me…” he begins but is interrupted by Geralt, who is a few steps behind Visenya.

“Leave her, Jaskier,” he demands. His eyes are locked on the man in question, his ashen brows furrowed and lips pulled in a tight line. 

“Perhaps the lady would like to hear a ballad, each line inspired by her beautiful golden eyes.” Jaskier continues, completely ignoring Geralt. Visenya sighs in annoyance, staring straight ahead. She side-eye's Jaskier, sending a chilly glare his way before continuing to move, albeit at a faster pace than before hoping to get ahead of the persistent bard. Similar to when Geralt demanded Jaskier to leave her alone, he chooses to ignore Visenya’s cold reception of him. The soft sounds of a lute begin to resound in the area when Jaskier starts singing a soft ballad, the song lyrics thinly veiled references about Visenya. 

Geralt moves up until he’s walking beside Visenya, leaving the bard in the back. His lips still pulled into a tight line, eyes narrowing in concentration as he stares ahead. There is a flicker of annoyance in his eyes, that grows more apparent the louder Jaskier’s singing becomes. His jaw is clenched so tightly, Visenya could swear a few of his veins have popped. A slight smirk tugs itself onto Visenya's face as she continues to watch his irritation grow. Out of the corner of his eyes, Geralt notices Visenya’s amusement. 

“Something funny?” he questions, his deep voice closely resembling a growl. Visenya’s gaze moves from Geralt’s face to the rolling fields ahead of them. The soft crunch of the grass beneath her feet is a stark contrast to Jaskier’s incessant singing. A soft giggle bubbles from her mouth, her hand immediately coming up to her lips to stifle the sound. But the damage has been done. Instead of looking at her out of the corner of his eyes, he turns to face her head-on. She shakes her head, unable to silence her laughter. All the while, Geralt continues to stare at her. The only sign of his amusement is the slight twitch in his furrowed brows. 

“It’s nothing. I just forgot how vexed you always seem to be.” Visenya muses, after managing to silence her laughter. His face relaxes as her words sink in, a single brow rising in questioning. 

“This is the second time we’ve encountered each other.” he points out, a teasing undertone hidden in his gruff voice. 

“Then it would seem you’ve made an impression, Geralt of Rivia,” Visenya claims, not missing a beat. She turns her head to meet his gaze for a split second, a teasing grin resting on her lips, amber eyes alight with mischief. A simple grunt is all Visenya gets in response to her banter.

A moment of silence passes between the two of them. By this point, Jaskier’s singing has ceased and instead, he opted to idly strum his new lute, silent for the first time since Visenya met him. The sky is a beautiful blend of vivid oranges and reds. Fluffy white clouds conceal the majority of the sun, causing the rays that peek through the clouds to appear more concentrated. Visenya can’t help but stare, her face alight with childlike wonder at the sky being so beguiling and surreal, looking akin to a painting rather than a natural cause. Geralt sneaks a glance at Visenya out of the corner of his eye. 

“So my fair friends! Where to now?” Jaskier exclaims, rushing to stand in between Geralt and Visenya - his brief silence over. His lute is slung over his shoulder, his face stuck in a puppy dog state. He throws his arms over their shoulders, however, Geralt swiftly shoves Jaskier off of him, continuing forward at a more rapid pace than before. 

“That depends, where are you planning to head off to.” Visenya inquires, side-eyeing Jaskier once again. A beaming smile breaks out on his lips, his baby blue eyes nearly as beaming as the brightest star. 

“Well my lady, I will need to head back to the inn in Posada to gather my things, then perhaps I was thinking about going to Venngerburg. Who knows what the capital could offer a bard like me!” Jaskier exclaims, removing his arm from her shoulder, opting to instead practically dance around her, twirling in front of Visenya, finishing his movements by smoothly kneeling to the ground and brandishing a single flower. It’s a delicate wildflower, it’s petals a vivid red that blends with the sunset above it. Appearing as if the same artist that painted the sky dotted the field with flowers.

“Perhaps the lady would care to join me?” he asks, offering the flower to her. Visenya’s eyes flicker to Geralt momentarily before moving back to Jaskier. His eyes are hopeful as they dart across her features, attempting to discern her reaction. After a moment of contemplation, she grabs the flower from his outstretched hand.

“Perhaps the lady would like to make sure she is on the other side of the continent,” Visenya replies, mimicking Jaskier’s tone. She glides past him, placing the flower behind her ear. Jaskier stays frozen in his position, his brain not fully registering the turn of events. 

She briskly moves towards Geralt to match his pace once again. The only acknowledgment he shows her is a quick glance at her before returning his attention forward. After a few moments, Jaskier manages to gather his bearings and moves to walk behind the duo. The three of them continue in silence. With no conversation acting as a distraction, Visenya finds her thoughts wandering. The elves had struck a nerve in her, their tragic fall from grace too similar to Visenya’s own house's demise. Injustice appeared to run rampant in this world - similar to Westeros. Despite being reborn with fire magic, Visenya still finds herself helpless to do anything to stop it. It was almost better when she couldn’t do anything at all.  

o0o

Eventually, they reach the main road - a brown mare that Visenya recognizes from Blaviken as Geralt’s - is patiently waiting on the side of the road. It snorts and shakes its head as Geralt approaches. He places his hand on its head, gently petting the horse as he softly speaks to it. It’s quite possibly the most tender Visenya has ever seen Geralt act. The sweet smile that had crept onto her face immediately disappears as she notices Jaskier approaching her. Before he has a chance to begin talking, Visenya throws a glare his way. 

“Don’t,” she says before moving towards Geralt. By this point, Geralt is guiding the mare towards the road. Once again, she takes her place beside him. The sound of a lute smacking against a surface alerts Visenya that Jaskier is following. 

“So what now?” Visenya asks Geralt as they wander aimlessly down the road. 

“Leaving.” Geralt mutters.

“Off to bigger and better adventures?” Visenya teases, nudging Geralt with her shoulder, a sly smirk on her face. He snorts in reply, unmoved by Visenya’s attempt to lightly push him. 

“Something like that,” he replies, a hint of a smile on his grim face. “And you?” he asks, his gaze meeting her own. Visenya sighs, not having a clue what her next course of action should be. 

“Well, my cloak is ruined so I’ll need to get it fixed. Which means I’ll need coin, which also means I need to get a job. Maybe the inn has an idiot that needs their gold relieved from their pouch.” she wistfully replies.

“I do!” Jaskier exclaims from the back. Geralt and Visenya stop and turn to look at Jaskier. His arm is raised in the air, a giddy expression lighting up his face. He swiftly lowers his hand upon gaining their attention. He stands up straighter, attempting to smooth out his clothes. “I mean - I might possibly have a job for you my lady Jane,” he adds, trying to keep his voice level and tone nonchalant. 

“Really?” Visenya asks, an amused look on her face as she raises a single eyebrow, watching the man expectantly. 

“Truly,” Jaskier replies, running to close the distance between them. “I find myself in need of a bodyguard of sorts if you will. A bard of notoriety such as myself will need the highest security gold can buy.” he finishes, running his hands through his already messy hair. Geralt snorts, nudging his horse to continue moving forward, leaving Visenya and Jaskier. Visenya momentarily glances at Geralt’s retreating figure before returning her attention to Jaskier. 

“I’ve never heard of you before,” she notes, scrutinizing Jaskier’s face, trying to see if his offer had any double meanings. 

“I assure you, my lady, I’m up and coming. Before you know it, kings and queens everywhere will be begging for me to perform at their parties!” Jaskier exclaims, wrapping his arm around Visenya’s shoulder as he leads her down the road - the same direction Geralt went. “Which means - should I acquire any rivals or perhaps trouble during my travels - I will need someone with a very large sword at my back.” he continues. Visenya once again snorts, watching Jaskier from the corner of her eyes. 

“Fine.” she relents. His eyes widen in surprise momentarily at her agreeance to his offer. “But there’s going to be some rules.” she sternly finishes, narrowing her eyes at him to get her point across. 

“Anything.” he quickly exclaims, with a large smile on his face. With the fluidity of a practiced warrior, Visenya shoves her elbow into Jaskier’s side. The bard crumbles to the ground, moaning in pain as he holds onto his right side, attempting to ease the pain.

“Don’t touch me,” she says, continuing down the road.

                                                      o0o0o0o

Tags: If you’re name is crossed out, it means Tumblr wouldn’t let me tag you.

 @ayamenimthiriel​ | @1967-chevy-impala-called-roscoe​ | @sunlithours

[veinwalk]

RIAIN DRABBLE: THE NORM

WARNING FOR: Blood, Gore, Torture, Drugs, Adult Themes

 The nightlife, the noisy compound that was a part of this city BUSTLING with life and sound that drowned out the ability to think. But in a club, thinking was the last thing people did. No one paid mind to what happened around them, the people they were chatting with, the wolves among the cattle. No, they were too busy with the next drink, the next body to flirt with, a chance for a one-night stand in another dirty hotel room or old car. It was, in a sense, the best place for the criminals and scum to come to mingle, for deals to go down and plans to be lost within the mindless chatter of another round of songs and people trying to yell above those. No wonder the newest target of interest to the self-titled GOD had chosen this place.

                        ’ WHERE THEY COULD TAKE ADVANTAGE, HE COULD TOO

      Frame rested rather lax with arms crossed over the top bar of the catwalk, blue eyes pinpointing the group of gang members- another budding group, trying to make some type of NAME in the city of ██████ . In reality, nothing more organized than MOST groups of criminals in this city. A bunch of gun wielding drug dealers, making their money off of selling dry-wall packed drugs and cheating their customers for more then what they get. They were HARDLY recognizable, and otherwise would be of no interest to him. More people in the background, meaning nothing to his goals. What WAS of interest was things they had a hold of- the bag loosely pushed under the table, its content SUPPOSEDLY holding a rare batch of chemicals. Now it was just in a poor game of torch passing, probably sold to them under an IGNORANT idea it was useful for another batch of cooking, realizing that was wrong, and trying to sell it off again. The Kingpin, currently, was watching over the deal- his own gang member working as the mouth.

     Earpiece buzzed with the information and conversation gotten, the higher quality of the piece muting a good amount of the background noise.           ❝ keep chatting him up. make sure you get him to open the package, don’t just take it. move it up so i can see it when you do.❞         Calm voice spoke directly to his middleman into the ear piece, watching. His position on the upper floor was beneficial- off to the side, a good view but not making him SUSPICIOUS. Just another more relax frame. Any talking he did could easily be masked by his other crew members with him, another mouth moving to chat with some ‘friends’. Everything seemed so NORMAL, nothing standing out. 

       Minutes stacked onto each other, fingers starting to tap in IMPATIENCE in spite of themselves. However, beyond that, he did nothing to make it evident that he was.

       FINALLY. Eyes followed as the bag was moved up, the black cloth moving and settling as it was placed upon the table, catching as the voice in the piece did exactly what was asked and demanded the package was opened. In it rest a clear container filled with an incredibly light yellow liquid. As the other moved the container, he gave a distant visual examination of it.            ❝ put the money on the table, and take the package. meet out back.❞           He spoke as he turned, a nod given to the other members near him. Hand moved up to the ear-piece, pulling it out and putting it into his pocket.

                                                                            ’ A MUTTERED GUNSHOT

      And another, and another. He didn’t need to see the nods back from his crew members, or them drawing their guns from their holders to know his UNSPOKEN COMMAND had gotten across. Screams and yells were delayed, movement like a wave- when his steps brought him to the stairs and eyes were back towards THE SPOT OF INTEREST, it was noted that those nearer freaked out first, the domino effect taking place. Some people hadn’t seemed to notice, music of more focus and proximity not close enough, for the fresh dead in a bloodied booth to be of interest. Then, there was movement TOWARDS the scene- his workers moving to keep the one intentionally living man of the gang from leaving. The dealers. Others focused on the door, blocking the exits, or disabling internal phones. The lack of signal service did a hand on that. Cameras already disabled earlier, eyes watching to make sure no pictures were taken. There was some time to buy.

     Riain moved over to his speaker, who had been unaware of just how things were TRULY expected to go- intentionally kept in the dark. He didn’t need someone anxious of the gunfire that was BOUND to happen. He grabbed the bag from him, taking it back over to the table and sitting in the same spot he had been- the only spot untainted by blood. The carrier and the content inside were placed haphazardly where they had been before, hands placed over each other in a manner of professionalism. Sharp blue hues stared at the other, the smile worn seemed like an ATTEMPT at something friendly but it was just wrong.           ❝ now, onto real business❞

       Words, comments, rushed out remarks that  ❛I gave what the other guy what he paid for! ’  with an expected mix of vulgarity. The brunette stopped him.            ❝ i didn’t pay for dyed water with-❞         Top had peeled off , catching a smell from it.            ❝ coriander and lemon juice? i give you credit for at least attempting to give a similar smell, but effort gets you no where. especially poor ones❞         Container placed down, with some effort to not spill the contents despite it being of no use to him. Or at least, as was.           ❝ now where’s the real one?❞  

         An eye roll was given as more excuses were given, poor insults of him being a dumb ass and this was the real thing, he  ❛ didn’t know shit ’ . The Kingpin moved from his seat, standing up and leaning over the table and getting in front of the other.               ❝ well, let me just test it then.❞         Before words could be given towards this, hand reached behind the other’s head and forced the others face to meet the liquid, the large jar-like container working in his favor as it covered up mouth and nose. Force was exerted to make sure the air pocket between the liquid and the top of the container couldn’t be reached, the tension evidently testing the skin pressed against the lip of the container. The two to the dealers side grabbed him to stop squirming, the bubbles being notable from the liquid as the other tried to breathe. OBVIOUSLY, someone wasn’t used to torture. Should’ve held breathe. He gave him 40 seconds, before releasing him and settling back himself.                ❝ want to claim i don’t know what i know again? if you want, when i get the real stuff i can demonstrate just how it really should have acted on your skin. trust me, it will give you more then red eyes and a hard time breathin’.❞       Eyes remained steeled on the dark-haired man, watching the color return to his face and making the red ring around his lower face start to dissipate just slightly- other then the areas were it seemed some under-skin bleeding had started due to the pressure. The ‘fuck you’ he got didn’t draw much from the criminal, what did gain more response was more excuses. Apparently this man did not learn. He looked at the man on his right, nodding to repeat what he just did. As he did, a gun on the table was grabbed by the king and the butt of the gun was knocked against the jar, causing it to shatter and face to hit against the pieces.                 ❝ factor number 2- you wouldn’t put that chemical into a weak glass like this.❞

           Every great teacher could get to the worst of students, when the man picked himself up again, blood rushing down his face from in between glass shards and mixing with the blood spilled from the corpses around them, the fear, the signs before the words the other was starting to crumble and would ‘beg for their life’ were there. And low-and-behold, the whimpered ‘pleases’ and ‘alrights’ came forth, spilling the fact that it was in a car parked in the back lot.                 ❝ let’s escort you back there then.❞         The words were less towards the victim and more towards his own men to grab him, which they did. The Director moved away from the table, feet carrying him towards the back door with ease- most of the people inside cowering to the sides or attempting to find other doors by this point. The gun equipped woman peeled away from in front of it as he came, following after as he opened it as did the others with the gang leader. He demanded the other show him which vehicle was his and give him the keys, and when that went through he gave the keys to the gang member and made it clear she was to start driving once they were in. The back of the Van was opened and the man was tossed in, with one the men sitting down in the back too and the other joining another in the back seat. Riain took his place in the back of the van with their hostage, closing the door as the engine purred to life. 

        ❝ so where is the stuff?❞         His voice was more calm, almost like asking a normal question about the time or the weather, but it held that undertone stemmed from what had happened before- don’t try to play me anymore.  When the other spoke as he pointed to a box locked against the back, pressed off to the corner, his workhorse reached for it and grabbed the other bag out of it. Grabbing the container when it was released, azure eyes looked it over, gently handling it with his leather gloves.        ❝ now this is lookin’ right.❞      There was a purr of pleasure to his voice as that was said, greeted only with ‘so you got what you want- let me go,’ only to be greeted with an expression that very much spoke that wasn’t going to happen.           ❝ i’ve got to test it first.❞

          Protests rang out, but it didn’t stop him as he took out the graduate pipette from the bag that had been brought- from the very beginning, he had expect the betrayal. He had planned in advance, as was evident. He withdrew some of the chemicals, not even enough to promote a visible difference in the quantity of the container, as forcefully grabbed the struggling mans arm with the aid of the other in the back. He released the chemical onto the open skin, watching it have an almost instant effect that mimicked narcotizing. It was allowed to sit for a second as the other yelled at the stinging sensation, before a medical swab was taken to it to wipe off the remaining droplet, making sure he didn’t come in contact with it himself.           ❝ there we go- that’s how it’s supposed to be.❞        More vulgarity, this time mixed with threats of his death and blah blah blah. It wasn’t the first time he had heard it, it certainly won’t be the last.           ❝ this stuff is considered government level-secret- so who sold it to you? and who sold it to them. i need to know where this stuff got lost in the trade of ignorance.❞         Riain shifted his position, ready for more lies and bullshitting and having to work more on the other to make him talk. And it started just as expected- the other not dropping the threats, refusing the easy way. He moved the chemical to the side, settling it back in the bag to keep it safe, and grabbing for a pair of pliers with one hand and his knife in the other. No use in wasting what he just got, so he’d work with what was around. He forced the others hand onto the elevated metal that was what substituted for seats, locking it in place with his knife jammed in between the palm. A yell erupted in the back, seconds waited for it to die down before words were spoken again.           ❝ for every bullshit you give me, you lose another nail. now, where did you get this?❞          First nail, cussing and threats. Second nail, begging for him to stop. Third nail, more begging with muttered words of he didn’t know. Fourth nail, some skin went with this one, tears mixing with his ability to talk and more begging for him to please stop. Fifth nail, the pliers were slammed down and the nail was rather dragged off, some of the Directors annoyance starting to ring through this action. The bone was broken. More yelling, more lying that he didn’t know. The annoyance continued with him violently retracting the knife from within the others skin, tearing a bit more as he pulled it out across rather then straight up. Grip was adjusted on it, pointing it directly towards the others face.           ❝keep this up, and by the time the medical examiners get to you they won’t be able to recognize a body out of the mush.❞           Out of the side of his eye, he saw his gang member shuffle a bit, some discomfort evident. It wasn’t atypical. Riain wasn’t usually the one to be forefront about getting his hands dirty when it didn’t concern his shows- with tasks he considered ‘underling work’, but when he did he made sure it wasn’t pretty. He wasn’t a bluffer. 

                                ’IT HAD BEEN LEARN HE KEPT TRUE ON HIS THREATS

            The dealer started to whimper out again he really didn’t know, but that was killed off as Riain shifted again, the knife moving slightly to the side and other hand grabbing for the chemical again. Those words swearing he didn’t know were instead turned to ‘wait wait wait!’ Hand withdrew slightly, resting on his knees and knife laxing. Harsh blue eyes met the others, watching the tears mix with the blood still wet coming from the glass, the moisture not allowing it to dry. ‘his name is kevin! he’s some type of informant, dealer type g-guy. apparently isn’t from here but comes here for deals! he sold me the stuff, saying it was some new potent shit that goes into some high quality crystal and can be charged a ton for. said it was chinese or russian or some shit! just- please let me go! i have a wife!’   Wife. Many who used that were lying. Not like it mattered either way, but it was a pathetic bluff. Almost as bad as saying he had kids.            ❝kevin who? where does he frequent? i need more than that. that isn’t going to buy you your freedom.❞        Cruelty between calmer words and frame again, obviously not quite pleased yet. A last name was given, and a list of some locations that seemed guessed at best. The knife was placed to the side again, hands settled near his side.            ❝alright.❞         A simple word, it seemed to drag some peace from the other until another grin reached The Director’s face, and the gun he had on him was grabbed out. Frantic words left the other, all of which were tossed away.              ❝thank you for your business.❞  

                                                                 ’ A BANG, A SHORT LIVED SCREAM, AND BLOOD

            As the sound died, the blood droplets settling, hitting himself and the other living man in the back, his frame settled slightly. For a second, before, hands routed through the pockets of the corpse, retrieving the phone and pocketing it. He could look through contacts and history later, tracking down calls and making his own leads if lies had been made.

           The next day, the news would be buzzing with a murder at a club in the middle of the night, the occupants being held hostage, and the criminals being gone by the time police arrived. There would be a burnt van, with the smoldered remains of a corpses with glass shards in their face and a hand that was completely messed up beyond repair. And there would be a man at work, the new face of some company, doing his job and running his business. No mind to the stolen phone connected to a laptop digging up information in the background, or a dangerous illegal chemical hiding within his desk. But that was just another day.  A man that should be more worried that his face might be found, the truth be released, but in a town like this? This was normal. This was business. Whether it be the lower level gangs, a infamous crew destroying the city in the daylight, another batch of people to get the blame perhaps, or just the newest criminal stepping out of the dark, it was normal.

                                     ’ IT WAS BUSINESS, AND BUSINESS WAS GOOD

[katsukikitten]

Irritated part 5

A/N I had to split this chapter for tumblr so have part V early while I work on VI

A heavy rock song rings out in the dead silence of the room. Pulling a growl from two opposing bodies. Bakugou's growl lasts to the chorus as he curls into the body in front of him. Pressing his forehead into the cool and smooth skin of the person beside him, shrinking in an attempt to hide from his alarm. The person relaxes at his heated breath, both parties starved of physical affection. Emotions were exhumed this morning, ones that were thought to be long forgotten suddenly burning in the too bright sun.

Suddenly the two of you jump simultaneously as if shocked. Pops of explosions dance over deadly fingers as items begin to rise around you.

You both hold each other's gaze, like two big cats following the same prey, before he stops activating his quirk and items float gently back into place.

You blush when you see what he is wearing, biting your lip when you see a certain outline. Your cheeks flush further when you remember what you're wearing. Low light paints people in more gentle tones, the sunlight beams heavily past the partially drawn curtain highlighting the harshness that is Bakugou.

Maybe he thinks the same of you.

He tilts his head and cuts you with his gaze.

"We never fucking speak of this again." He says swiping the air as if dismissing it all. His alarm breaks the silence between you two, easing some of the tension as he slams his fist against his phone.

"Get dressed Princess. We're gonna be late with how long you take." He growls, motioning towards the sliding glass door as he makes his way towards the shower. You follow him with heated eyes.

"First off I don't really take that fucking long." You lash out, angry for whatever reason that he provokes, last night clearly dying with the moonlight, "You're impatient Bakuou!"

He stops next to you, harden shoulder bumping harshly into yours. He wants to grab you by the throat, to push you against the wall if anything to feed his dominant desire to tame the brat that is you.

But he saw the way you recoiled from his sudden touch before.

"Keep your voice down. When I have women screaming my name it sounds much more pleasant than that. Now get. Out."

"Fuck off." You snarl with flushed cheeks as your insides twist and boil.

Stop bragging about previous conquests is what you want to scream but you bite the inside of your lip instead.

Why did it matter to you who he's fucked? Who he has woken up with and snuggled close to? Why did it fucking matter?

Well it didn't.

You climb over the three feet between the two balconies, scraping your knees along the rough concrete before righting yourself to stare into the ominous room.

Had someone broken in? Worse yet were they still there if they had? You ease the sliding glass door open silently. Slinking in like a cat and feeling for anything organic within the bedroom, bathroom and even the closet.

When your search of the dead space in the textured four walls comes up empty you sigh with relief, shoulders literally sagging away the tension as you begin to gather a fresh suit from your bag heading for the bathroom.

Until the sunlight bounces off something that is placed on your still made bed atop the pillows.

You hadn't remembered any stupid mints being laid out in your room or in Bakugou's for that matter so when you approach to get a closer look your body seizes.

You fight the scream that roars up your throat as you shake, struggling and falling to restrain yourself as your eyes take in the horror.

A belly button ring with a dangling gem in forest green, a doll's eye that mirrors your own stunning eye color and a note smiles smugly at you.

You huff and puff as you snatch the note from the bed. The words burning into your retinas as you almost hear the voice in your ear.

*"You'll be with me soon. In the meantime wear this for me? I'd love to see it peaking through your suit."*

Your hand flies to your belly button ring now with a black gem, your fingers curl around it quickly and you pull until a small arch of blood follows in its wake. Your breath is labored as you stare at the items, the belly button ring on the pillow shatters as does the TV as you shake with rage.

Finally you stop vibrating and force yourself to move to get ready. Barely able to stomach the thought of how irritating Bakugou is going to be today and the last thing you needed was another parasite crawling under your skin. You shower quickly although you want to scrub your skin raw as you think of that man rummaging through your items, taking the time to write some freakish note onto the hotel stationary before leaving.

You imagine him doing what you caught that asshole doing on the night that almost ruined everything. Sitting upright in your bed hugging onto your pillow, an unwashed hero suit on his exposed lap now covered with several milky stains as he waited for you.

You stared at yourself in the mirror as it replayed over and over and fucking over again.

"FUCKING PATHETIC!" You scream at your reflection. Blaming her for all the misfortune that has come your way. You bring your fist back and slam it hard into the glass cheek causing the mirror to reflect a number of you.

But this does not stop you and you slam your fist over and over into the glass until nothing but glue and old unpainted drywall stares back at you. You huff, having hoped the physical exertion would ease your racing mind. But if anything the glass shards protruding from your skin provoked you further.

You do not regret ripping out your belly button ring as you slide into your suit, careful to avoid agitating the now sensitive skin. Dressing quickly so you can properly address your bleeding knuckles that are currently wrapped with a hand towel. The gauze in your bag is easy to find, switching it for the hand towel bloomed with red hastily as you think you hear one of your neighbors emerging from their room. It is a poor wrap job but something is better than nothing as you hear foot steps stop at your door.

You open it with cold eyes just as Deku was about to knock lightly.

"Ah Y/N!" He sounds startled and looks well rested, "Are you ready for today? We have back to back interviews and q&as."

"As ready as I'll ever fucking be for this bullshit." You growl pushing past the chipper man to start your, hopefully, final day in hell.

Your mood soured quickly although that seemed like an impossibility. Yet here you were arms crossed over your chest as you were guided backstage by your two coworkers. Bakugou spies coffee and sugared pastries as he makes he way to the table. Actively avoiding you the best he can. He stares down at the two iced coffees looking perfectly blended that sit along side breakfast sweets. He wondered if he shared this favorite thing with you too. His hand hovers over the second coffee, glancing over his shoulder, debating if he should bring it to you. Images of last night rush to the forefront of him mind.

*"Please stay Katsuki."*

His heart pounds in his chest.

*"We never fucking speak of this again."*

His own voice haunts him as he snatches a chocolate croissant sipping on his coffee. Thinking better of taking you breakfast it's not like he was your fucking boyfriend or anything. Hell could you guys even be called frenemies? He isn't certain anymore. He hates that he can no longer label you as *just* irritating, loathsome, or annoying that new adjectives have popped onto that list.

Adjectives like alluring, soft, sexy.

A vein pops in his forehead as he watches you talk to Izuku. He looks worried, probably asking you if you're alright and you look mad. As if Izuku was the cause. He watches your bandaged hand gesture as you speak with heated eyes. He sips his coffee, you hadn't had this mysterious injury last night nor did you have it this morning before you left his room. He thought he heard thumping coming from your direction this morning but he wasn't sure as he was blasting music to get the sound of your voice out of his head.

Izuku pulls you into a hug and you look stunned, pretty face pressed agaisnt a harden chest. The croissant begins to be reshaped with deep grooves as the chocolate melts from suddenly heated air. He looks down at the smushed pastry with a grimace before tossing it in the trash.

"Oi." He steps close to the two of you, coffee still in hand, "No time for you love birds to kiss face. We start soon morons."

"Shove it Bakagou." You snarl, shoving past him hard enough that his coffee tries to slosh past the lid.

Hot ember eyes stare after you.

"This isn't helping her turn her day around. She's clearly upset." Izuku scolds as he walks past his childhood friend.

××××××

You sit beneath the harsh lights, sweat from their heat collects on the nape of your neck mixing with the irritation you have for the man that sits to your left.

Why the fuck where the three of you collected on a love seat as if this were someone's living room and yall were having a fucking chat over tea?!

You hated that most about interviews but right now you hated most how Bakugou was touching you.

His arms are crossed, arms long enough that even leaning away his elbows dug into your bicep.

Or maybe the damn love seat was too fucking small for three people.

Worst of all he was scowling over the crowd avoiding questions as best he could.

Izuku on the other hand has greatly improved on his interview skills, so much so you've come to rely on him to speak with the media.

I guess Bakugou has come accustomed to it too.

Unfortunately you begin to naturally mimic Bakugou's body language as the interview drones on.

Stupid questions about previous missions, "back stage info" and dissecting WHY he liked Katsudon so much.

"Its just always been my favorite meal that my mother made." He smiles warmly at the memory and the women in the audience swoon.

"Bakugou your favorite meal?"

"Spicy." Is his one word reply and you roll your eyes.

"Well Y/LN. We haven't heard much from you but I have to ask the question everyone has been dying to know." The host smiles from ear to ear leaning closer as if he had a secret to share.

"Are you dating anyone?"

You pause for a moment.

Was this bitch fucking SERIOUS. You want to hold back, need to hold back but you're irritated.

Angry and at the fucking world. He just happened to leave an opportunity for you to let go, especially since you've answered this question before.

"In the past forty minutes of this interview that was the only question you could think of for me?" The host blinks slowly as if stunned before leaning back. Attempting to regain his composure. Deku gives you a small nudge that you choose to ignore.

"W..well it was the most fan voted question!" He retorts but little did he know you saw the Twitter polls this morning on your walk over.

"Oh is that so? It's funny because the most fan voted question for *me* was if I used my quirk to get ready in the morning. You know like levitate my hairdryer. Sometimes, is the answer by the way." You turn to the audience for the answer before returning to the host, "That question you asked me was meant for *Bakugou*"

He visibly begins to sweat, a cat smile forms on your face as you watch him squirm.

"You just knew I would have a better chance of answering that again before Bakugou ever admitted if he had someone in his life or not." You laugh and it echos back to you with a hint of cruelty, "Hell Bakugou would commit seppuku before he *ever* admitted to any emotions aside from rage."

People in the audience agree and the host blanches before the timer dings.

"W...well that's all for today folks. Don't forget the Q&A with the top three heroes and more later this evening. In that portion, you the fans will be voting live and having some time to ask face to face with your hero!" The crowd erupts with cheer as you stand abruptly.

More than done with this bullshit.

Izuku follows you quickly, Bakugou's steps are stunned.

I guess that was how people saw him huh?

"Really?!" Izuku for once loses his temper with you, well if you could even call it that. He takes a deep breath before reining himself in

"Why would you say any of that?" His tone comes out as a disappointed dad and you sigh audibly.

"Its not like she lied or said anything untrue." Bakugou chimes in arms crossed staring at you.

"See even Bakuhoe thinks it's okay."

"Watch it."

"Fuck off yea?" You snarl with venom that for once actually stings, Bakugou takes a step for you. Large palm outreached.

He has a lot of questions for you and if the only way to get the answers was to beat the shit out of each other then so be it.

"Stop!" Izuku steps between yall, huffing with redden cheeks, "Neither of you were helpful during this interview! And yall were doing so well what happened?!"

Both of your minds flash to last night. Your weak, sleep laden voice echoing.

*"Please stay Katsuki."*

"FUCK!" You hiss, pulling at your hair as you turn away. Both men look to you and your abnormal behavior.

Sure you've lost your temper, been irritated or straight up pissed.

But never....distressed.

Izuku swallows what little anger he felt, maybe it was more annoyance than anything as a gloved hand reaches out to you.

But it never makes it.

"Katsuki, Izuku and Y/N!" A sharp toothed smile approaches, "I've been looking all over for you three!"

"What do you want shit hair?" He snarls before Kirishima smiles wider, so used to his abrasiveness. He spies you and wraps his arm around your shoulders.

"I'm starving and fate demands that we have lunch!" He squeezes you closer and you smile widely as ruby red winks.

He is your new partner in crime after all.

The four of you eat order far too much food. Kirishima helps to lighten your mood and ease the tension with you and Bakugou again.

Even daring you to steal his fries while looking him in the eye.

You do, as does a cat when they knock picture frames off of shelves. Katsuki retaliates by snatching your last chicken nugget that he dramatically savors.

You laugh aloud, suddenly forgetting your problems in the middle of the fast food restaurant.

But the feeling couldn't last long enough.

[lincolnonline]

a material world - self para

who?: lincoln clarington-smythe where?: wmhs / lima mall when?: monday, november 23rd about?: link completes his annual closet re-stock, just in time for gaga vs. madonna week. after all, he is a material girl.

Link had this day planned out for months. He had been counting down the days in his Lisa Frank calendar, waiting for the chance to march into the mall with his dads credit card in hand.

He had even gone as far as to ensure his outfit for the day was as lowkey as possible in order to gain more satisfaction from the new wardrobe, choosing an all-black ensemble and pairing it with a simple ( by Link’s standards ) belt with a few statement chains and some black boots.

The joy he felt that morning when his dad has offered to give Link his credit card and drop by the mall after class was unparalleled by anything save for the joy he felt when he was able to locate Swift the snake, going to down on a rat in the back of the school cafeteria. While Link knew his dads didn’t exactly get him, he had never felt judged by them either. They were aware that their son was a mix of their worst qualities and was a modern day homosexual Sharpay Evans and they had themselves to blame, there was no point in fighting or denying it.

Placing his books back into his locker following his last class of the day ( World Religions, total snooze-fest! ), Link couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face as the final bell of the day rung.

Quickly taking out his bag and closing the locker door behind him, Link felt a buzz from his back pocket. Fishing out his phone, he was greeted with a notification for a DM from some random sophomore at Dalton, reading; ‘u free tonite?? heard u were a good fuck lol’. With a displeased eye-roll, Link dug into his pocket once more, this time pulling out his headphones and pressing play on his ‘sex yeah!’ playlist. He was worth more than some one-off hook up with a guy who probably only heard about him through the Dalton Gay Grapevine.

Some boys kiss me, Some boys hug me, I think they're ok.

Making his way down the school hall, back-pack slung over his shoulder and the drum-machine  beats of his favorite Madonna song playing, Link walked passed the choir room, not even giving a look in the general direction of the Glee club. He had his mind focused on bigger things today, and sectionals took a big ole’ backseat. He had already given his amazing song-list suggestions, he had fulfilled his team-work quota for the week as far as Link was concerned.

If they don't give me proper credit I just walk away.

As he pushed open the front doors of the school, Link was greeted with the sight of his fire-red Audi, parked in its usual spot in the staff carpark that he had been able to finesse his way into getting via some nicely worded emails from his lawyer dads. Going to public school wasn’t a dream come true by any means, but he was enjoying the perks that being rich, sexy and talented gave him among a sea of people who were…not so rich, sexy or talented.

Clicking the button on his car keys, Link slid into the driver’s seat and pulled out his favorite pair of sunglasses from the glove compartment before putting the car into reverse and making his way to the.

They can beg and they can plead But they can't see the light.

Link marched up to the check-out, throwing down racks upon racks of clothes onto the counter, giving the woman working the register a smirk before flashing his credit card and handing it over. He was prepared to up the sales numbers for every store the Lima Mall had to offer, and he was doing it happily. Capitalism be damned.

'Cause the boy with the cold hard cash Is always Mister Right.

 As the woman scanned away and bagged up all the clothes, Link let his attention shift elsewhere, noting a group of teenage girls walking out of the change rooms at the back of the store, standing around and taking pictures. He recognized a few of the faces, they were from Crawford. Perfect.

“Hi, excuse me,” Link said with a faux warmth to the employee now attempting to fit a pair of shoes into a branded plastic shopping bag. “I was wondering if I could, ugh, how do I put this? Rent your change rooms for the next hour or so?”

The woman looked at Lincoln incredulously for a moment before Link cocked an eyebrow and looked back down at his credit card, making it clear he was more than happy to pay for her services.

“Hey ladies!” He called to the girls at the back, and they looked up, curious, before their eyes widening at the growing stack of bags in front of him. “Impromptu fashion show? What do you say?”

'Cause we are living in a material world And I am a material girl. You know that we are living in a material world And I am a material girl.

Dramatically whipping open the changing room curtain, revealing his first outfit, Link let himself fall into a few poses as a member of the group snapped a couple of photos per-his request.

“What next? Sexy teenage vampire or Bratz-Goes-Hollywood?” one of the girls enquired, holding up two hangers. He shrugged off the blazer and tossed it over to a girl in the group before pushing his sunglasses up onto his head and taking a hanger and turning back to the change rooms. “Ladies, the fangs are out tonight.”

Boys may come and boys may go And that's all right you see.

They went on like that for the allotted 45 minutes, taking pictures and blaring music from their phones in order to ‘feel the fantasy’ as Link put it. Looking at his phone gallery to check how a picture that had just been taken turned out, Link’s phone buzzed in his hand and he was greeted with a message from the boy who had DM’ed him earlier, reading; ‘u left me on read?? fuckin ugly ass bitch anyways u look like trash’.

Noticing Link’s sour expression, one of the girls looked up from her phone. “Who pissed in your Gucci? You okay?”

Shaking it off, Link gave a nod and tapped out of the message, picking up the last hanger. “I’m fine. The real question is will you be okay when I blow your fucking minds with this look?”

Experience has made me rich And now they're after me .

Link blew a kiss ( to the best his ability with how full his arms currently were ) towards the group of girls as they headed in opposite directions. “Snapchat me anytime babe!” He called out as they turned the corner and disappeared from view.

He headed down the escalator, feeling the eyes on him as he passed other customers. And how could he not? He looked and felt like a human disco ball, it was fucking fabulous.

As he headed out the doors and towards his awaiting car, Link froze and his smirk dropped, eyes wide. “Fuck, how am I gonna fit this shit in my car...”

'Cause everybody's living in a material world And I am a material girl!