#ch: blue diamond

[sweets3rial]

i wanted it to be you.

ch. 1 // ch. 2

di!leon x fem!reader

summary: you wanted it to be him. he wanted it to be you. though, life is unfair. you don't always get what you want.

tags: much angst, some comfort, pining, talks about the past, talks about past relationships, flashbacks, ex-bf lsk, engagement/marriage, cheating/infidelity, affair, smut, car sex, p-in-v, unprotected sex, fingering, mating press, creampie, slow and sensual (?), regret, and even more sadness.

warnings: cheating on spouse (not cheating on leon and leon not cheating on reader)

word count: 7.5k

the sunset has always brought peace to Leon. it was like a rinse, a reminder that his day was ending and starting for someone else across the globe.

a reminder that the day was fading into night and then would fade into morning then night again. it was a peaceful goodbye, silent and celebrated by some in the world. 

the orange, pink, blue, and purple hues brought warmth to his heart. the soft breeze blew up from the cliff and into his hair, his deep brown strands flicking into his eyes and ticking the heights of his cheekbones. his cheeks felt cold to the touch just like his heart. 

unlike the beautiful view and sunset, the peaceful breeze, and the silence, the storm inside Leon was the complete opposite. his skin was littered with ugly scars that he tried his best to hide. there was a storm inside of his heart, tornados destroying his peace, and noise in his head he couldn’t clear. 

he couldn’t sleep, worried about too many things he couldn’t handle or solve. he was tired but sleep only made him even more tired. the nightmares he’d face every night made it hard for him to stay asleep. he’d shoot up in a cold sweat, slapping his hands around his comforter looking for something … or someone. 

nothing can erase the image of that bling, the blinding reflection of a diamond, blinding his eyes from his view of you. it wasn’t any ordinary ring, it was a wedding ring. it hurt, more than any knife or bullet that has painted scars on his body.

he couldn’t believe it. he wanted to deny that even though it’s been so long, that there was still hope. hope for the two of you, that one day time and fate would bring you back together. 

but it seems like fate had other plans. someone else caught your eye, maybe he’s better, maybe he’s enough, maybe he can be there for you the ways Leon couldn’t. 

all while, Leon has been waiting. he stares into the sunset and it reminds him of the warmth of your skin and the shine of your smile. he is planted onto the ground instead of floating on a high like he was when he was with you. he cries and he doesn’t have you to hug him. 

he stirs in his sleep and he doesn’t have you to calm him. he gets home tired and he doesn’t have you to lull him into a peaceful sleep. he’d fall into the crook of your neck, practically putting all his weight on you and you’d accept it with your arms wide open. 

you could barely wrap your arms around him but you still tried, running your hand up and down his back, cooing into his ear and placing soft kisses to his tears. it’s funny how two people can go from cuddling skin to skin to absolutely nothing in a day. 

even though he’s seen every inch of your body, held you in your most vulnerable states, touched you in places no one else can, spoken to you about the future, he even met your family. all that only for you to treat each other like strangers. he’s nothing but a stranger now. it’s not fair. 

he should be the one getting down on one knee and proposing to you. he should’ve been the one to see you clasp your mouth in shock and watch the tears of joy well in your eyes. he should’ve slid that ring onto your finger, he should’ve been the one. 

that man that you married doesn’t even know your jewelry of choice. he had no taste. Leon knew you much better than that. 

his fist clenched in the pocket of his leather jacket. 

it should’ve been him. 

he jumped at the sound of a car door shutting behind him, his head whipping around and his muscles tensing.

it was you. 

you had just crawled out from your car — parked next to Leons. your facial expression was indiscernible but he could tell you were shocked to see him. though, you weren’t alarmed. he watched as you pursed your lips, “you’re here.” 

it was more of a statement rather than a question. the sound of your voice instantly stilled the storm in his mind. suddenly, there were clear skies and sunlight. no more rain and thunder. no more noise. just silence and peace. 

there you were, standing there so casually in a sweater and jeans. nothing has changed but at the same time so much was different. 

he shrugged, hands still in his pockets. 

“i’m here,” 

he watched your lips curve into a chuckle, he wasn’t sure if his heart had stopped or if his heart was racing at a rapid pace.

you were just as beautiful as the day he lost you. it left him speechless at how gorgeous you can be, in any setting, with any hairstyle, wearing any clothes — preferably his clothes. he loved it watching you dig through his dresser to pull out any old t-shirt. 

it’s all you would wear around the house. his clothes. 

your head dipped down as you walked towards him. slow footsteps, dead leaves at your feet crunching as you got closer and closer. he could feel his heart speed up with each step. blood rushing to the tip of his ears and his cheeks, now warm with a small blush. 

you slowed your steps down at a tree — your tree. your hand ran over the initials carved into the bark. your heart instantly stung at the sight and memories were quick to play in your head. 

it was a late night, both you and Leon had leaned up against this very tree. 

you two were enjoying the peace and he was pointing out the constellations in the sky. you weren’t keeping memory of what stars connected to make this instead, you were looking at him. listening to him speak. 

you always loved listening to his passions. 

there was a certain glimmer in his eyes that always captured your eye, that glimmer that indicated he was happy or excited. if you asked him what his favorite band was, he’d spark up, or even when you’d laugh at his horrible jokes. his eyes would gleam, his smile would grow and his face would no longer look so … tense. 

it hurts that you haven’t seen that look in a while. 

you smiled, tracing the tip of your finger over the ‘scar’. he had carved your initials into the tree and back then, it was still bright green and fresh. you remember laughing at how he struggled to carve a heart with the tip of his combat knife. it was cliche, something kids would do, but you were kids back then. free and in love. 

you let your hand fall back into the pocket of your jeans as you continued walking towards him. he kept his eyes on you the whole way, still as enamored as he was before. 

no, he couldn’t be. you were going to be married soon. 

“how are you?” he asked while clearing his throat. 

“i’m…” you paused looking out into the horizon. meanwhile, he was stuck looking at you. the orange light from the sun warmed up your skin beautifully, a natural glow highlighting the tip of your nose and your cheekbones.

he is reminded too much of the memories you two made when he looks at you. 

he loved kissing the tip of your nose and nudging the tip of his into your cheeks. you’d complain at how cold the tip of his nose was and then he’d instantly warm your skin with a kiss. 

“i’m alright, how about you?” you finished staring back at him. if you were being honest, you weren’t alright. you were having many many doubts.

did you get engaged too fast? are you even in love? should you have said yes? is he the right man? will the wedding be a disaster? who are you going to invite? 

all these thoughts were rushing through your head and you needed peace and quiet. so you went to the only place that could relatively give you that. your spot, the one you shared with your past lover. 

“i’m still standing, aren’t i?” 

you chuckled, such a Leon thing to say. 

“also, uh congrats,” his hand left his pocket and gestured down at your left hand. instantly, the cold weight of your wedding band became apparent to you and a chill ran through you. hiding your hand behind your back, you smiled up at him. 

you knew how much it hurt him, you could see the pain and the dullness in his eyes. they weren’t glimmering, he wasn’t happy. 

“thanks,” you smiled, timidly. 

“when’s the wedding?”

“um, don’t know, still trying to figure that out,” you breathed out, tucking a coil behind your ear. “just like everything else in my life,” you mumbled out the last part but Leon heard it all along with the fact that you were wearing earrings. 

~

‘i uh,’ he was bad at giving presents. he always was. he wasn’t sure if the recipient would like it or not. 

‘i got you these but-‘

‘Leon! ‘ he watched your eyes shoot open as he brought the small velvet box into your view. 

‘yes?’ he asked with a lift of his brow before flicking open the box. a set of beautiful earrings that were small and childish but they reminded him of you. 

‘oh! i love them!’ 

‘out of all the things i bought you, these are your favorite?’ he tsked, tucking your hair behind your ear as he prepared to put them on for you. 

‘i know but they’re cute,’

‘silly goose,’

~

he’s seen you happy many times before but that was pure joy. the way you jumped into his arms and hugged him with the grip of a gorilla. they were simple earrings from a small shop, but he watched as you grazed your fingers over them in awe. 

you asked how much they were and winced back at the price. nothing was too expensive to Leon, as long as it was for you. 

his heart dropped at the sight of those earrings, they don’t even match your necklace-

actually, they do.

~

‘babe, want this?’

‘huh?’ you turned towards him away from speaking with another employee. 

‘they match your earrings,’ he tapped at your earlobes causing them to jiggle. 

‘leon, it’s expensi-‘ you were cut off by him placing a finger to your lips while shaking his head. 

‘shush.’

‘you don’t have to.’ he smiled, placing a small kiss to your lips. 

‘i want to.’

~

you’re wearing the matching necklace as well. both contrasting against your ring. one being gold the other being silver. he knew how persistent you were about matching your jewelry to your outfits and to one another. 

you never wore gold and silver at the same time. so why?

your hair dropped back down in front of your face with a gust of wind, hiding away your earrings. 

Leon steered his attention away from you and back down to his feet, “your hair is longer,” he commented. 

you lifted your hand up and tugged at a strand of your hair, “oh yeah, i guess so,” 

you haven’t even noticed, funny how time moves so fast but yet so slow for you. it only feels like yesterday that you and Leon were up here, sitting on a blanket and watching the day fade into the night. your hair was much shorter back then. 

“it looks good, suits you,” 

“thanks,”

the tension was only getting thicker and thicker. this was the first time you two actually talked ever since … god knows when. when you two broke up maybe? it left a bitter taste on your tongue whenever you thought back to it. 

it reminded you that you and Leon rarely argued. you two both worked in the same field, you both understood the weight and responsibility it was to be an agent.

but sometimes, when you love someone so much, you tend to ball up a lot of emotions in order not to hurt them. 

it was about time that you both would explode. 

“why are you here?” you suddenly spoke up, finally cutting the tension down a little. 

“i’m thinking of you…” Leon spoke honestly, “of us,” 

he watched as you froze, eyebrows curving upwards and the corner of your lips dropping into a frown. 

“Leon-“

“i am happy for you,” he was quick to cut you off, raising his voice over yours. 

“stop,” you mumbled out, dropping your head to avoid his gaze. 

“but why? how…” he paused, collecting his anger. he licked his lips and looked down at you. he watched as you bit your bottom lip and screwed your eyes shut. 

“why couldn’t we work?” he asked pointing between the both of you. 

“we were hurt, Leon,” you sighed, blinking away a tear before it could fall as you looked up at him. when you met his blue eyes, your heart sank. he was so hurt. he was still hurt. even after years, he is still hurt. 

“and hurt people hurt people.”

his sad blue eyes always hurt you more than any wound ever inflicted upon you. seeing him sad could easily bring you to your knees, as it is your biggest weakness. you were convinced that nothing could hurt you more than Leon. 

“we could’ve worked it out, we could’ve talked, gone to couples therapy,” he took a step closer to you, his body felt weak almost as if he had broken every bone in his body. “we could’ve done something,”

“i did something! i moved on, okay!” you suddenly shouted out at him, causing him to pause. “i found someone who can communicate and i found someone who doesn’t bottle up and hide away, he loves me-“

“does he?” Leon grimaced, you pursed your lips and hid away from him. almost, as if you were ashamed. he continued to slowly approach you as if you were a timid animal. he was gentle and slow. 

“see, don’t do that-“

“he doesn’t even know half of you, he doesn’t know you like i do,” 

“Leon, stop.” 

even if you told him to stop, you weren’t moving away. you two were opposite sides of a magnet, you couldn’t help but attract each other.

the smell of his cologne was dragging you back to him, the smell of his sweat and his shampoo. the sound of his voice. the warmth radiating off of him. 

it was something you were so used to. it was home. 

he grabbed ahold of your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours. you instantly melted into him, the feeling of his rough palms was always better than anyone else. you could recognize his touch out of a thousand men. 

he was never rough, he was always gentle. he used his hands to kill but to also touch and soothe.

“please,” he whispered out. a breeze coming from behind you lifted the scent of your perfume off your skin and into Leon. you always had a signature scent, one that had his mind in a frenzy whenever it hit him. 

“i know your dream ring by heart, like the back of my hand.” he huffed out. you couldn’t help but breathe out the air caught in your lungs. he reached up slowly with his other hand, brushing your hair back to reveal your earrings. 

“they matched these exact earrings,” his hand traveled down to pick up the pendant of your necklace, “and this necklace.” 

as he turned the pendant around, your initials were carved on the back, the same font and style as your initials on the tree. he still remembers going to the jeweler and asking him to engrave those two letters, with a really bad heart around them. 

showing him the picture of the initials carved onto the tree. you must treasure her. he had said and Leon replied, more than she’ll ever know.

“why do you still have these?” 

“because…they’re my favorite.” you couldn’t lie. out of the plethora of necklaces and earrings, you always reached for this pair. telling your fiance lies; oh, they were a gift from my father. 

“because they’re from you and i can’t let them go, i can’t…” you trailed off, looking down at his chapped lips. he was biting on the inside of his cheek, you could tell. you remember telling him so many times not to do so, you didn’t like it when he was anxious. 

you would always remind him that you were right there beside him, even if he was all alone. 

no words could explain what you were feeling right now. it was a mix of anger and sadness.

but it wasn’t the type of anger that made you want to lash out, it was the type of anger that made you want to cry and walk away. but the sadness was something else, it made you want to curl up into his chest and stay there. 

it made you want to go home. but home was where Leon was. 

Leon was the first man you’ve ever loved. you wanted him to be your first and your last. you remember looking at him and seeing a peaceful future. you thought, after you two split, that you were going to be able to start over again. 

with someone new, something fresh. but your fiance, he wasn’t Leon. he was great in his own way. he was handsome and kind. he was smart and caring. but he wasn’t Leon. 

sometimes, his voice would morph into Leons. his laugh would sound like Leon's. his pattern of breathing sounded like Leon's. you couldn’t escape him or maybe you just couldn’t let him go. 

“are you happy?”

his question caught you off guard, your eyebrows scrunched up at him, and you were slightly taken aback and sure that he meant something else. though, once you looked into his eyes you knew he was serious. “what?”

“does he make you happy?“ 

“stop.” you shook your head. 

“answer the question,” he gulped down the lump in his throat, searching for something and anything in your eyes to prove that he was wrong. 

“yes,” you stammered out. his hopes died then and he nodded slowly, understanding that there was no longer a place for him in your heart anymore. he was happy that you were happy, but he just wished you were happy with him. 

he let go of your hand, letting it drop to his side. 

“but,” he was taken aback when you reached back for his. you wrapped your hand around his pinky, halting him in his steps. “i’ll never love him like i loved you.” 

his eyes flickered up to yours, only to meet the top of your head as your head was tilted downwards towards the ground. you were fighting back tears, your bottom lip shaking. 

“he makes me happy but the very thought of you has me overjoyed,” you looked back up at him, a tear slipping out from the corner of your eye and the tip of your nose swelling red. 

“he buys me designer clothes but i still wear your sweatpants i stole five years ago i-“ you continued to ramble and Leon just listened, his heart fluttering with every word. he never thought he’d hear those words spill from your pretty lips. 

“i still come here almost every day to look at the constellations you showed me,” you sucked in a deep breath, “i drive by the house, our house,” 

you let the tears fall freely as his hand slowly intertwined with yours again. he thought you didn’t pay any mind to him, that he was just a lost memory to you, that you couldn’t care less about him but…

“i still have all your gifts, your letters, your trashy collectibles, i…” you paused to suck in another deep breath, your hands shaking in his but you calmed down at the wind blowing his cologne your way. he was here in front of you and finally, you could tell him the truth. the one you’ve wanted to tell him for a long time. 

“i wanted it to be you.” 

Leon's breath faltered as the words left your mouth. you wanted it to be him, not anyone else. 

without another word, he tugged you closer to him. it was a matter of seconds before his lips found yours, enveloping them in his warmth and passion. you reciprocated his kiss instantly. a tear falling down your cheek and meeting the corner of your mouth. 

he could taste the salty tear in your kiss, and it reminded him of the days he would spend kissing away your tears after you had a nightmare or cuddling you to his chest as you ruined another shirt with your tears.

his arms wrapped around the small of your back, bringing you closer to him as he pressed deeper into your kiss. he was holding onto you so tight to the point it was hard to breathe and even harder to stay put on two feet. 

his tongue swiped across your bottom lip, both eagerly and hungrily. as he did so, you opened your mouth for him. his tongue met yours in a wet frenzy, and he moaned into your mouth as his grip on you only grew stronger. 

you took a few steps back, feeling as if you were going to fall. he only followed you in pursuit, up until you had backed up into the tree. you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer. your kiss was becoming sloppy, with wet lips and fighting tongue. 

he gave your thigh a quick two taps and you knew exactly what that meant. you jumped up, wrapping your legs around his waist and he smirked against your lips. the fact you remembered, even after all these years, drove him insane. 

you let him carry you wherever he wanted, you didn’t care to look or pull away from his lips. you trusted him. if he were to take you away right now, you would go. you’d leave with him and live the life you always wanted…with him. 

he pressed you up against his passenger door, unintentionally slamming your body into the metal. the only time Leon was ever rough was during times like this. desperation, hunger, and pure lust. his hand frantically searched for the back door handle. 

the minute he got it open, one minute you were pressed against the door and the next you were being thrown into his backseat. you landed on his leather seats with a loud thud, your chest heaving up and down as you stared at him. 

his eyes were no longer gentle or sweet, they were filled with lust and something devious. but also something so deep and passionate. he was hungry but he was never greedy. 

he slowly crawled into the car as you crawled away. he was out of breath, cheeks flushed and lips swollen pink. you looked up at him as he slowly crawled on top of you. 

he hooked his foot into the door handle and he pulled his knee up to shut the door. his eyes stayed on yours, he didn’t want to waste another word or breath. he slid his fingers through your hair, taking a hold of the back of your head. 

it suddenly dawned on you what had happened and what you two were doing. he was leaning down to meet your lips once again and you forgot. to you now, this was another late night, you two had just carved your initials onto the tree and he had just got his new car. 

he was still blonde and your hair was shorter. he didn’t have his bullet wound and you didn’t have a scar on your hip. you didn’t have this heavy ring on your finger and you were still young. 

you leaned up onto your elbows, meeting him halfway with just as much heat. his hand traveled up your thigh, guiding you to wrap your leg around his waist once again and you followed. just like before, you followed his every instruction. 

“god, i missed you,” he breathed out with a kiss to the corner of your mouth. he then traveled down your jaw, with slow wet kisses. your whole body shivered as he found that spot just south of your earlobe. you sucked in a shaky breath. 

“Leon, please,”

“patience, my love,” he tsked. your legs tightened around his neck, even though he said you needed patience, you needed him. you missed him so much, a part of that was the sex. the sex was fucking amazing. it always was, from the very first time you met until now. 

he fucked you in a way you could never comprehend. he knew just the right things that had the breath leaving your body and your heart leaping out of your chest. 

as he kissed at your collarbone, his hands were traveling up your sweater. large, hot, and rough. his hands felt like sand paper against your soft skin but god it felt so good. you let out a trembling breath as you ground your hips into the buckle of his belt. 

he groaned at the friction, grinding his erection down to meet your hips. he could feel your heartbeat pulsing at your heat through both of his jeans. it was evident that you both were in dire need of each other. 

his calloused hands cupped at your bare breast and he groaned into your skin at the feeling of your bare skin. something he hasn’t felt in so long, your warm and soft skin. his cock jumped in his jeans, just the taste of your skin has driven him crazy. 

he felt dizzy, he hadn’t breathed or blinked ever since his lips hit yours. he didn’t want to waste a single taste or glance. he circled both of your pebbled nipples with his thumbs, smirking at the small whine that left your mouth. 

“no bra, huh?”

“shut up,” you grumbled, beyond sexually frustrated. 

he couldn’t help but laugh as he dragged your sweater off of your body. he tossed it somewhere in his front seat and you could see in his eyes that excitement.

he stared at your breast in complete awe, your body was something Leon worshipped. you were his god and he was all but a simple beggar on the street. 

he always stared at you as if you were some distinct painting; taking note of every small detail, every mole and every scar. even if he’s seen you a thousand times, he always acts like its the first time he’s laid eyes on you. 

“my gorgeous, gorgeous girl,” he sighed, his lips meeting yours in a quick kiss, “how can you be so perfect?”

your heart fluttered at his words, he never failed to have you utterly speechless. 

you trailed your hands over his shoulders and underneath his leather jacket. as you slowly worked his jacket off of him, eyes watching every inch of skin slowly being revealed to you. his muscles flexed underneath his t-shirt as he shrugged his jacket off and threw it somewhere into the front of the car. 

he then pulled his t-shirt over his head in a quick and rushed manner, throwing it along with the rest of his clothes. he’s grown more muscle and definitely bulked up since you’d last seen him. he’s always been so perfect. his body was nice and toned, decorated with firm and chiseled muscle. he was like a marble statue, the ones in the museum with gorgeous proportions and sharp features. 

how can he be so perfect?

he leaned back over you, and rather than your lips in less of a rush of lust, he kissed you slowly and passionately. the feeling of your sensitive nipples brushing up against his warm chest made you shake and let out a small whine. 

his hand traveled up your side again, taking your breast into his palm, and squeezing your nipple between his index and middle finger. you shuddered, a small moan leaving your lips as his other hand traveled down to the button of your jeans. 

he worked his way around the hem of your jeans to take off both your jeans and your panties at the same time. you reached down for his belt, struggling to unbuckle it whilst also struggling to shimmy your pants off of your hips. 

the windows of the car were beginning to fog up, you could barely see the outside, any light shining through was only a smudged blur. it was getting harder to breathe and much harder to think. as you kicked your jeans off, you were quick to help push off his. 

you both were as loud as you wanted, the sound of moans mixed with wet kisses and heaving breaths. 

“i need you, i need you,” you panted out like a prayer. 

he kissed down your chest, bringing your nipple into his mouth while his hand soothed the inside of your legs — sticky with sweat and arousal. you keened under his touch, your thighs shaking and your clit aching. 

you clenched around nothing, desperate for his touch. in your mind, you were counting down the seconds until he touched you. counting each inch that his fingers traced up your thigh. it was when his fingers slotted between your damp folds you broke. 

a desperate sob left your lips and your hips bucked. he moaned into your skin, pulling away from your nipple with a pop. “so wet, all for me,” he breathed out, pressing a small kiss to your breast.

his fingers prodded at your hole, collecting the arousal that dripped when you clenched around nothing. he could tell you were so eagerly waiting for him. eyes gleaming down at him and watching his every move. 

his thumb found your clit and he applied the right amount of pressure that had you arching your back with a small wail. the leather of the seats were hot, there was condensations dripping down the windows and it smelt heavy of sex and his cologne. 

“tell me, tell me what you need, baby,” he heaved out against your cheek. 

“i need you, i want … you,” you replied, out of breath and strength. with that, his inserted one of his fingers, the small stretch was enough to have your jaw hanging open and your legs quivering out of control. nothing and no one has ever had this much of an effect on you, not even fear. 

but Leon, he could make you weak with a simple glance. 

as you clenched around his finger, Leon found it hard to breathe. you were so warm and dripping all over his palm, he could smell your sex everywhere in the car, it was sweet and god it was good. he screwed his eyes shut, trying to contain his composure but you were driving him wild. 

each moan that spilled your lips with every stroke of his finger, he was teetering on the edge of sanity. 

he inserted another finger, slowly and carefully. he didn’t want to hurt you, but watching as your eyebrows curled upwards and your head tilt back, he knew he was doing everything but hurting you. 

a deep moan spilled from your tongue as he curled his fingers up into your gummy walls. at the same time, his thumb pressed circled against your clit. 

“oh god, please-“ 

“calling on god in a situation like this is pretty sinful of you, baby,” he snickered. you wanted to slap him across the face for such a comment but you could barely process his words, your mind was too focused on the pleasure he was giving you and drooling at the thought of his cock. 

he could feel you pulsing around him whilst dripping with need. each curl of his fingers earned him a thristy moan and a squelch. he kissed down your neck, in between the navel of your breasts, and down you stomach. until he reached you abdomen. 

he sucked at your skin, hoping to leave a mark where it wasn’t too noticeable. the pressure on your abdomen along with the pressure of his fingers curling inside of you caused your legs to clamp around him. 

“fuck!” you whined out, carding your fingers through his hair. one of his hands traveled up underneath your thighs, bringing them to rest on his shoulders. your chest rose up and down with excitement, your heart thrumming up against the cage of your ribcage and sweat trickling down your face. 

you took a moment to admire him, kissing at your abdomen while his fingers circled at your swollen clit. he was so pretty. his blue eyes seemed to glow, even if it was dark. the moonlight shining through the foggy windows highlighted the messy strands of his hair and made out every feature of his face. 

his jaw, his straight nose and his hooded eyes. he was beautiful, in between your thighs, standing in the sunlight, standing in the moonlight, asleep or awake, he was just beautiful. 

his lips traveled up between your thighs, kissing at the fat and nipping at your skin. you jumped at the feeling off his teeth but still you loved it. his tongue ran along the small bite mark before he created another. 

“mmm Leon,” 

“shhh,” he soothed, nudging his nose into your plump skin. 

he removed his fingers from your aching cunt with a small pop and before you could whine in protest, he tapped the side of your thigh because he knew that you were going to whine.

once you shut up, he smirked against your inner thigh and brought up his slicked fingers up to your mouth. you opened your mouth and allowed him to place his fingers onto your tongue. 

you swirled your tongue around his digits before sucking your slick off of them. he groaned at the sight of you sucking his fingers, eyelashes batting down at him and face glimmering with sweat. 

“so dirty,” he smiled, blowing air onto your clit. you shivered at the sensation. 

he kissed down your thigh until his tongue found your clit, flicking at the bud with the tip of his tongue all while looking in your eyes to watch your reaction. you moaned around his fingers, lifting your hips — eager for more. 

“patience, my love,” he pressed a kiss to your clit while taking his fingers out from your mouth with a pop. 

he slowly crawled over you, leaving kisses in his path. he finally reached your chin, placing a kiss there and then to your lips. he sucked in a deep breath through his nose, letting his hand run down your side until he guided your thigh back around his torso. 

he stroked himself a few times, groaning against your lips. when his tip nudged your clit, you opened your mouth with a moan, allowing him to stroke his tongue along yours. 

“tell me if it hurts,” he whispered to you, you gave him a reassuring nod and he shook his head. 

“i need your word-“

“yes, yes! i’ll tell you,” 

he slowly sank into you, watching your facial expressions keenly. you were overtaken with pleasure, your jaw hanging open at the painful stretch but also a moan boiling in your throat from your ache being relieved. 

he reached up for the car window behind you, looking for some grip. he left a hand print on the foggy window as his fingers trailed down to the handle. a groan left his lips and he buried his face into your neck, “fuck, so tight.” 

your gummy walls were pulsing around him, making it hard for him to breathe. you were so wet and so warm, making it easy for him to thrust in without any problem. Leon felt like a teenage boy all over again, ready to burst within seconds. 

his swollen tip pressed against your cervix and a whine left your lips. your toes curled and you struggled to suck in a breath, “so good,” you managed to squeak out, clawing at his back to leave scars. 

he slowly rocked his hips into you, grunting at each small thrust. you wrapped your legs around him, begging him to go deeper even if it hurt. one hand stayed on his back while the other ran up the nape of his neck and into his hair. 

“god, you’ve always taken my cock so well,” he whispered out into your ear, with that he began thrusting into you, causing your body to jolt and bounce with every connection of your hips. they were so and deep thrusts. 

he wanted you to feel every inch of his cock and he wanted to watch your face contort as his tip hit your g-spot every time. 

you arched your back into a moan and he took this chance to wrap his arms underneath you. he wanted to keep you pressed to him, he wanted to feel you because he knew this would be the last time. he knew you’d both regret your actions once the passion has died down but he wanted to live in the moment. he didn’t want to think of consenquences after this. 

he just needed to feel you one last time. 

“faster,” you begged, kissing the lobe of his ear. chills ran down his spine at the feeling of your hot breath and your dragged out words. he obeyed without question, pounding into you at a pace that has you sobbing. the car shook underneath you guys and both of you were sure any hikers could hear and guess what was going on inside his tinted jeep. 

“this pussy’s so good, fuck,” he seethed through his teeth, opening his mouth to bite down onto your collarbone. 

“mm fuck,” you whined out, tossing your head back and clenching your legs around him tighter. you could feel his cock throbbing inside of you, with every thrust there was a wave sent through you. you could feel him in your bones. the tension was only getting tighter, your limbs were on fire but you liked the burn. 

you tugged him away from sucking at your breats and your chest, guiding his lips to yours in a rushed manor. you wanted to taste him. his teeth clashes against yours but it wasn’t long until you both found a rhythm. 

he moaned into your mouth, ignoring the ache in his chest from the amount of air. you were his air. he could breathe when he was around you, he felt light. you were his fix. you were his drug. you were his lifeline. 

you controlled whether his heart beat or stop. you controlled whether he was happy or sad. you controlled his mind, body, and soul. you had complete control over him and you just didn’t know it. 

you parted from his lips, a string of saliva snapping back onto your chin. “it’s too much,” you sobbed. you watched the inner corner of his lips twitch, almost as if he was about to smile. he brought your legs up over his shoulder, positioning you the way he wanted that way he cold fuck into you deeper. 

this new angle was enough to put you on the egde, a tear slipped past your eyes and your pupils had rolled back into your skull. 

“you can take it,” he heaved out, as he continued to piston into you. your brain was mush, you couldn’t speak or reply back to him. the only thing on your mind was the feeling of his cock stretching your walls and the sound of his voice. 

“Leon,” you stammered out. you were clenching around him tightly, your legs shaking and your moans spilling out nonstop. he knew you were close, he could tell from the look on your face. completely fucked out of your mind, not a single thought processing.

“my beautiful girl,” he reached down for your clit, “come for me,” 

he kissed another tear slipping down into your hairline as you whined beneath him. your breath was caught in your throat and you could see stars waltzing behind your eyes, you gushed around his cock while moaning out his name. 

he gripped the leather by your head, every taut muscle in his body relaxing as he spilled his hot seed into you. he pressed his tip deep to your cervix, hoping you’d feel every hot rope he gave you. he kissed at your cheeks slowly, slowly rolling his hips into you as you both came down from your highs. 

he was buried in the crook of your neck, heaving out deep breaths and in between them he said, “i love you.” 

your heart sunk. you could physically feel it. your blood ran cold and there was a pain in your chest. 

“i, i have to go,” you could feel his eyebrows scrunch against your shoulder as you sat up from underneath him. you hurriedly reached for your clothes as your sinuses began to sting and tears welled up in your eyes. you were so so stupid. 

how could you have done this? how could you sleep with another man when your wedding is in mere months? not just any man, but your ex. 

you struggled to slide on your panties, you skin still sticky with sweat and cum. 

Leon let his head drop as he listened to you struggle and cry. he reached out for you, “honey, wait-“

“no!” you smacked him away, turning to face towards him with tears in your eyes. “i’m sorry, we should’ve never done this, i’m so sorry,” you broke down and before you knew it he was scooping you back into his arms. 

you wanted to push him away but you had no strength, physically and mentally. “i should’ve never came here and-“

“shhh,” he soothed the back of your head, coaxing you into laying your head onto his shoulder. 

“it’s my fault for still-” you paused suddenly. Leons breath hitched and his body went still. 

“still what?”

“i’m sorry, Leon.”

you pulled away from him, refusing to look him in the eyes. it hurt too much to face him. he doesn’t know how much power he has over you. you couldn’t hide secrets or say no. you couldn’t lie to him. it breaks you to lie to him.

it hurts that you still love him so much.

you reached for your sweater in the passenger seat and throwing it on. 

“answer me,” his voice cracked and with that your heart shattered. you couldn’t turn around and see him crying. you just can’t. the hem of the sweatshirt sat on your tits as you put on your jeans. your throat was aching and you were trying not to cry. you felt like a child.  

“do you still love me?” he reached for your hand, stopping you from reaching for the door. you turned to face him, your eyes now puffy with tears and your lip trembling. you tried so hard not to let the tears fall but it was too late. he watched as you swallowed back a cry and let your hand fall from his. 

“goodbye, Leon.” 

those were the same words you spoke to him when your relationship ended years ago. it was like slow motion, his brain was catching the final moments of you. it was so odd seeing your back profile, even if he’s seen it so many times, it was odd to see it when you were leaving him. 

you left Leon there in your once shared apartment. 

now you leave him in a foggy car that smells just like you. 

as the door opened, he was hit with the fresh night air, cooling the sweat on his body. the smell of fresh pine hit him along with the smell of your perfume. there were sounds of croaking frogs, trees dancing in the wind, crickets, and your choked back sobs. 

then the car door shut. there was silence all around him. he was stuck watching your foggy figure fade away, watching you get into your car and drive off without looking back at him once. he remained frozen, unsure of what to do or say. 

all he could do was let a single tears run down his cheek before he quickly wiped it away. he leaned back into his own car seat, looking up at the roof with a heavy sigh. 

here comes the storm, once again. 

(divider creds to @saradika ,, photos off of pinterest)

tags : @xoxoloveless @luvrgreyy @ynsvnte @satinwithsilk @childchomper1 @porcelainseashore @stefoooo @spfoah @chesue00 @puppyina @prettyntxhee

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[storiesofsvu]

Decadent Desires Ch 18

Emily Prentiss x reader warnings: language, post vacation blues, smut, some minor hurt/comfort, mentions of some toxic family behaviour. It's another long one and I am not upset lol. 6.6k

Showering was always the first priority after a vacation, especially after such a long flight. It didn’t matter how hungry you were, how tired you were or how much mail was piled up inside your door, you needed to feel clean. That and the rare times you’d stopped to do something else first you’d get distracted with too many tasks, run two loads of laundry and get in the shower to find all the hot water gone for the night. That was a risk you never wanted to take again.

Choosing the coziest pair of sweatpants and a worn tee you towel dried your hair as you wandered through the upstairs. When you dropped the towel back in the bathroom you were met with your reflection and your nose immediately crinkled, you definitely didn’t have the energy to blow dry your hair right now and suddenly the lack of Emily and her braiding skills was on the top of your mind. You figured a loose ponytail wasn’t going to hurt that much and would at least keep it off your face for the next couple of hours.

Laundry was the next task, make sure all those swim suits were properly cleaned and dried out, any and all sand, sunscreen and sweat were washed away from all your clothes. You heaved your suitcase onto the bed, hamper beside you to get started when you unzipped your bag to find a surprise sitting on top. At first you thought it must have been something from the resort a ‘book your next trip now and save’ coupon or something but curiosity still got the best of you. Your finger slid through the envelope’s seal and a small piece of carboard fell out, something cold on the other side of it sitting in your palm. Flipping it over you found a dainty, incredibly gorgeous pair of starfish earrings and your breath caught in your throat. They were stunning, rose gold and diamonds compiled together for the absolute perfect surprise. A small note inside to go along with them:

‘A gift. For an incredible eleven days. Can’t wait to do it again, Em.’

It was hard to contain the smile on your cheeks as you bounced on your toes, the same sparkle of warmth flowing through your veins as twenty hours ago. You tucked the note into the corner of your mirror, adding the earrings to the top of your jewelry box to be worn at the first opportunity.

**

Straight back to work was the only way you were going to dive back into things, even if it was utterly exhausting and your sleep schedule had seen far better days. You didn’t want to behind, you needed to be completely caught up and know exactly what move was coming next in order to do you job properly and make sure everything ran smoothly. You’d been prepared for that, what you weren’t fully prepared for was an out of office day, SUV’s leaving the District for an event in Virigina. At the very least you didn’t have to be the one driving.

You were in the back of a car with Heather, your gaze held out the window as you watched the barren trees fly by on the highway. You were aware she was speaking and while it took a little bit to process, you were pretty sure you were picking up everything she was putting down. She continued to talk, glancing up from her phone to catch you looking almost longingly out the window and she let out a soft sigh, putting her phone down.

“Did you hear anything I just said?” She asked.

Without moving an inch or glancing toward her you replied, “kiss and make nice with Durant over lunch as per usual, you want an official statement regarding bill 8940 made by five tonight and social media posts done. One regarding the rally today one encouraging voter registration and one promoting the banquet next month.”

“I do not know how you do that.” She muttered with a small laugh, watching for another moment as your shoulders slumped deeper. “You seem down, are you alright?”

You sighed, finally pulling yourself away from the window and drooping down into the seat, looking over to her, “I just got back from two weeks in a very expensive tropical paradise and you’ve got me sludging around in the wet and freezing weather all the way out in Charlottesville. What do you think?” Reaching forward you picked up your coffee mug, taking a hefty swig, “it’s just the post vacation depression. Even the coffee tastes like crap now. Maybe I got too much sun…”

“I take it you had fun then?”

“Heat, it’s the fucking Maldives, who goes there and doesn’t have a good time.” You laughed, “I already want to use up the rest of my vacation days.”

It was Heather’s turn to laugh as she picked up her own coffee, “like hell I’m letting you take off a whole three and half months in one go.”

“Rude.” You replied, feigning a pout, “and here I was thinking I was your favourite.”

She chuckled softly, watching as you sighed again similarly to the way a pet would that made it seemed they were shouldering all the world’s problems when in reality they just had to shift the position they were napping in again. With your gaze back out the window, a near frown on your lips Heather found her own curving up into a soft smile. Sure, the vacation blues could be a bitch, especially with chillier weather like this, but she was certain she had an idea that this was more than that, even if you hadn’t realized it yet.

“Emily experiencing the same lack of sun mood swings?”

“Hmm?” You didn’t even turn from the window.

“Emily…”

“Oh, uh, not sure.” You glanced over to her, your fingers picking at the cuff of your coat, “they got blindsided with a pretty big case as soon as we got back. She mentioned something about it crossing over multiple teams so I’m sure she’s pretty distracted.”

“When are you seeing her next?”

“Was supposed to be tomorrow night, but she cancelled once she got into the office this morning, they’re too slammed and she didn’t want to end up standing me up.”

Heather caught the way your face fell ever so briefly, how you turned your phone around in your hand to see the screen, as if you were willing a new text to appear saying the case was solved and Emily had all the time in the world.

“Once you’re done with that statement, take the car, swing by Quantico on your way back. I’ll ride with Cynthia.”

“What about Durant?”

“I think I can handle her,” Heather chuckled, “besides, you need a break.”

“I’m just tired.” You repeated, “you know how long jetlag fucks me up. My body thinks its past dinner time and I’ve barely woken up. I’ll grab another coffee and power through.”

Her lips pursed, “I’m not asking. I’m telling. Jetlag or not, you need a break.” She took a sip of her drink, “you’re starting to act like a preschooler who refuses to nap. I’m giving you the opportunity now take it.”

“Yes mother.” You replied dryly, giving her a sarcastic salute before dropping your empty cup back into the holder.

“Thank you.” She smiled, a few meters of road going by before you spoke again.

“Are you sure it’s a good idea to just drop in unexpected?”

“Say you were in the area and stopped for lunch.” She shrugged, “it’s not a lie. You know she has a habit of working through hers and figured you’d pick up extra and now you’ll get out of her hair. If she’s busy enough, she’ll walk you out, if she has the time, she’ll tell you to stay. Honey, trust me, her job is a lot more political and full of paperwork than you imagine, or than she wants it to be. You’ll be a nice respite in an otherwise tedious day.”

“If I end up looking like an idiot, you’re buying me dinner.”

“Fair enough.” She chuckled, her eye catching something glinting in the low light and her head tilted, hand reaching out, pinching at your ear as she shifted the gem between her fingers. “Are those starfishes?”

“Yeah.” You felt your cheeks heat, “figured they were small enough I could get away with them at work.”

“Huh.” She clicked her tongue, “you know, Becca used to be obsessed with this mermaid show where starfish earrings whispered things to them all the time. She didn’t have her ears pierced so she’d put stickers on them and try to get out of doing chores or homework because they told her she was too pretty for housework and smart enough already.” She scoffed, “ridiculous. The entire thing.”

Her phone pinged and her attention was lost as a small smile crept onto your cheeks, your finger tracing the small jewels in your ear. It wasn’t worth enough to tell her you used to watch Aquamarine with Becca when you babysat and you definitely weren’t going to let her know you’d been the provider of said stickers.

**

It wasn’t that it felt wrong to be in Emily’s office, its that it was almost a little unsettling to be in there alone, phone in your hand as you paced through the room distracting yourself with emails. Anyone could pop through the door at any moment and you highly doubted any of them would know who you were, maybe it was something in your gut that said it was a little weird. You’d been hoping she would just be behind her desk when you were guided to the office and with each moment that went by it felt like your acid reflux was getting worse and you were certain this was a terrible idea. The longer she was gone the longer she stuck doing other things and would turn you away the second she saw you.

“Hi, Agent Prentiss, what can I d—” Emily’s voice rung through the room, commanding yet welcoming before she stalled suddenly, the hand she had extended out to greet her visitor dropping to her side. You froze in your step, looking up at her with a small smile and she let out a huff, “oh thank god, it’s you.”

The tension in her body melted away, a smile of relief spreading across her face as she swung the door shut behind her, flicking the lock. While her team was good at not interrupting phone calls or surprise meetings the other agents working with them seemed a bit more on the unhinged side, she could use five minutes of peace. She stepped toward you, wrapping her arms around you and you sunk into the embrace, warmth flowing through you at the feel of her lips on your cheek.

“Is that new shampoo?” She asked, pulling back and you laughed.

“I guess it’s safe to say I was the only one who snagged a few extra toiletries?”

Emily laughed, her hand trailing down your arm before squeezing at yours. “What’re you doing here? Seems a little far out of your jurisdiction.”

“We had an event in Charlottesville,” you shrugged, hesitancy still evident in your voice as Emily moved around her desk, slipping her blazer off to toss over her chair. “I knew you were busy, probably working through lunch so I figured you might need a little pick me up.” You gestured to the coffee table where the large bag of food along with sodas sat, “and now that I know that you know the food’s here, I’ll get outta your hair.”

“Hey, no!” Emily immediately stepped out from around her desk as her hand reached toward you, “I’m sure you need to eat too, and you cannot leave me alone with these motherfuckers.”

You laughed, harder than you’d meant to, “your team driving you wild?”

“Not them, well, not really.” She huffed, “they’re usually pretty good at being self managed but these guys working with us, Jeeze, it’s like herding fucking cats who are all distracted by their own laser pointers. Not only did you bring food, but I’ll always have some time to take a break if you show up here.”

Emily stepped back toward you, her hand grabbing yours pulling you closer to her and the moment she inhaled your stolen shampoo again it was as if she was transported back to the Maldives. Warm air wafting around both of you, memories of being buried between your legs. Your lips brushed against the side of her jaw, a small chuckle coming from between them.

“Seems like food isn’t the only thing you need. Want me to pull the fire alarm, make a distraction?”

Her hands wandered down your sides, fingertips slipping under the hem of your blouse and your breath caught in your throat. “I can think of something else that’ll work just as well.” She had never been happier that she’d actually decided to lock her door. Leaning in she kissed your neck, nose nudging at your chin to tilt your head back so she had full access. You let out a quiet moan, your hand tangling into the roots of her hair.

“Oh please,” you laughed softly, barely able to keep your thoughts straight as she started to grope at your chest, “you’re not actually going to fuck me in your office.”

She pulled her head up from the crook of your neck, watching the way your eyes darkened as she pinched your nipples through the fabric. Her eyes flicked from yours over to the shut blinds, it was lunch, the bull pen was quiet, “think again.” Her lips met yours briefly and you practically mewled when she pulled away, chasing her lips for another one and she chuckled, “seems like you could use a little pick me up.”

You were almost ashamed of just how quickly you turned to putty in her hands, your mouth dry as she kissed and sucked her way up and down your neck, her hands continuing to toy with your chest. You couldn’t help but rub your thighs together, sparks already flying through you, wetness seeping out of your pussy. Whether it was your libido, still used to the quantity of vacation sex or an unknown kink making its way through at the thought of getting caught in a promiscuous situation, you weren’t entirely sure.

Emily grabbed at your ass, rolling your hips against hers and you let out a small noise that made her weak in the knees. One of her hands fidgeted with the hem of your skirt, her nose bumping with yours, gaining your attention when you opened your eyes.

“This alright?” She asked and you immediately nodded, a little too eagerly as your teeth sunk into your lower lip to keep yourself quiet. She chuckled darkly, the hand tickling up your inner thigh, cupping your pussy through your panties, a groan on her lips at the damp fabric. Instinctively you leaned against her desk, your legs opening for her to get a better angle, “that’s it… spread your legs for me.” Her hand tapped at your cunt and you shuddered, “now, these are in the way…”

Fingers slipping into your panties she tugged them off to the side, making sure they were secure and not blocking her from what she really wanted.

“Be a good girl and stay nice and quiet for me.” She husked, her lips meeting the side of your neck again and you let out a muffled squeak. Her hand tapped your pussy again and your hips rocked toward the touch, you could feel wetness building between your legs. “God you always get so fucking wet when your pretty pussy gets slapped. Too bad we’re on a short leash,” she nipped at your earlobe, “would love to get some nice hard, loud spanks in, see if you could come just like this.” Her hand swatted against you again, staying pressed into your cunt, fingers rubbing between your folds and your body shivered.

“Em.. please…”

“Don’t worry princess.” Her free hand cupped your cheek, kissing you softly and you melted against her, “I just want to thank you for lunch, promise I’ll be quick.”

Without a second thought Emily sunk to her knees in front of you, shoving your skirt up around your hips and her mouth dove in between your legs. You immediately covered your mouth with your hand, eyes scrunching shut as her tongue lapped through you. It felt like she hadn’t touched you in months, that there were endless weeks of pent up frustration, desire and need between you and this was the only time you were getting to release them. You dropped against her desk when her mouth wrapped around your clit, your pussy pulsing around nothing. A silent beg left your lips in the form of a gasp and Emily was quick to answer it, knowing there was a very high chance you were both short on time. Burying her face between your legs she sucked as much of your juices as she could, wishing she had longer to savour your taste. Moving her mouth up, she latched around your clit, tongue flicking against it while she sunk two fingers into your waiting cunt.

“Fuck…” you whispered, teeth sinking deeper into your lip as your clawed at the edge of her desk with your other hand.

She knew you too well now, knew your movements, your noises and just where to curl her fingers inside you, exactly how to drag the tip of her tongue over your throbbing clit. Wetness was dripping down her hand and she could feel you shuddering against the desk, her free hand reached up, swiftly finding yours and you interlocked your fingers. Her thumb stroked over your knuckles, a soothing and non verbal way to both check in with you and remind you that she wanted you to come, needed to get you to your release and be as relaxed as you could be during a busy work day.

Your back arched as your body stiffened, your hand clutching so tight on hers she was certain she was about to lose feeling in it as your muffled moans barely echoed past your lips. Pleasure soaring through you, your entire body felt electrified, your fingers dropping Emily’s as she gently licked you through it, cleaning up what mess she could. Your hand dropped from your mouth once you were certain you could control your volume.

“Jesus fuck.” You muttered and she laughed softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your thigh.

Emily straightened your underwear back into the right place and neatly pulled your skirt back down, smoothing at the fabric as she stood back up. An arm wound around your waist, her hand softly tickling at the small of your back as you caught your breath and she leant in to steal a quick kiss.

“Good girl.” She kissed the corner of your mouth, “you alright?”

“Totally.” You replied with a soft smile that she returned, crossing the office to grab a couple of water bottles from the mini fridge. With a relaxed sigh you redirected your gaze to the small mirror on the wall beside her desk, perching on the side of it as you began to fix your mussed hair and lipstick.

It was right as she went to speak again, to mention getting some actual food in your mouths that the world’s fastest knock came from the other side of her door, immediately followed by a thud and a muffled ‘ow’.

Emily dropped the bottles of water on her desk, skillfully grabbing a mint in the same movement before sweeping through the room to flick the lock and step back from the flying open door.

“Sorry, force of habit.” She explained with a shrug, “these guys always barge in when I’m on with the Director.”

“No worries Chief Prentiss.” An all too familiar voice replied, rolling out his shoulders from the body check to the door and your head whipped over your shoulder, your eyes widening at the sight of Tony in the doorway, “I think we’ve got a lead with that hotel over on thirteenth….”

His voice trailed off as his eyes swept through the office, not only did he not realize she had company he certainly hadn’t expected it to be someone he knew. His head tilted at the way you were in the process of fixing your lipstick with a Kleenex, a piece of your hair very uncharacteristically out of place. His eyes darted through the room quickly, taking in the messy file folders on Emily’s desk and the untouched take out on the coffee table before looking back to you and a knowing smirk broke out on his lips, a mix of a growling and purring sound coming from his mouth.

“Ooo, meow.” Your head titled in disappointment, Emily’s in confusion and when she made a sound his eyes shot back to her and he remembered where he was, clearing his throat with a cough, straightening his shoulders, “ah..uh.” He let out a huff of a laugh and his mouth immediately slammed shut at the steely cold glare you shot him and he swallowed, trying not to stumble over his words. “Uh, Lewis and I were gonna go check it out.”

“Great.” Emily replied with a nod, “touch base if you find anything and don’t be afraid to call for back up. Thanks DiNozzo.”

“Course boss.” He gave a little salute, lingering in the doorway as his gaze landed back on you, eyes flicking up and down your form before he quirked a brow in Emily’s direction, “Emily…huh.” With a small chuckle on his lips he finally left, swinging the door shut behind him.

“What the fuck…” Emily muttered, looking up to you when a small laugh burst from between your lips, stifled by the hand covering your mouth. “What was that? I mean yeah, you’re hot and he’ll flirt with anything with pulse but I’m pretty sure he’s harmless.”

A louder laugh broke free from your mouth as you dropped your hand, “you’re not wrong there.”

“Wait, you know him?” Her brow furrowed as you nodded.

“He’s quite the lingerie connoisseur.”

“Have you slept with him?” Emily asked, attempting to keep the jealous tone out of her voice, relief flooding through her at the absolute look of horror that washed across your face.

“God no! We’ve been friends for like twenty years. Even if I wanted to he’s so in love with one of his team mates he’s tunnel blind, despite the fact that neither of them will ever admit it.”

“Then what was with that reaction to you being in here?” She asked, picking the water bottles back up and passing one to you.

“Uh, he’s got a really good sense of fashion, I usually drag him along with me when I go shopping, he picked out the teal set with the Swarovski.” You explained with a shrug, “that first time you gave me your card he knew it wasn’t business related so it clearly wasn’t Heather’s and started asking questions. I promise you I never once mentioned your name! He started playing twenty questions, I said you outranked NCIS so he could shut the fuck up about it, then he kept pestering and teasing about me being a sugar baby and… Heather, may have dropped your first name before the trip so I’m assuming he’s put all that together now… including why the door was locked.”

Emily nodded, the beginning of a laugh on her cheeks when her brow furrowed suddenly, “oh fuck!”

“He’s not gonna tell anyone!” You insisted, stepping toward her to squeeze at her elbow, “he’s a tease and an annoying little shit, but he knows how to keep his mouth shut. Especially considering I’ll cut his balls off if he doesn’t.”

“No.” She laughed, reaching for her phone “I completely forgot to pay you.”

It was your turn to be confused, glancing to the untouched lunch and back to her, “this wasn’t exactly planned, I just wanted to drop by and I mean… I already got more than I came for.” Your lips twitched up.

“Not for today, for the Maldives.” Emily explained and you felt your stomach flip flop.

“You don’t need to pay me for that.”

“It was eleven days straight together; I think you deserve compensation.”

“Em, the vacation was the treat.” You squeezed at her hand, “you do not need to pay me twice.”

“You sure?” She asked, her thumb hovering over her phone screen.

“That hotel was what, minimum five grand a night?” You asked and she nodded, “then yeah, I’m more than sure.”

Before she could really try to protest any further or twist it over in her brain to confuse herself even more her desk phone went off, shrill ring echoing through the room and she let out a tired sigh, gesturing to the couch. “Sit, stay, we still need to eat. Just give me a minute.”

“Course.” You shot her a tight smile, your hands smoothing the back of your skirt neatly before sitting down on the couch and tugging out your phone.

Multitasking was nothing new to Emily, the receiver pinched between her ear and shoulder as she picked up a pen to scribble down a couple of notes, occasionally giving a bit of feedback here or there while she let her eyes wander over to the couch.

You had slouched down into it so far that your shoulders were up by your ears, a tight frown on your lips as you stared at your phone. The previous mask of showing up to do a good deed with the intent of spreading a bit of relief and happiness to the other woman completely gone. The blue light blaring from your phone pronounced the bags under your eyes and the way you had just started chewing on your lip told her that you were far less relaxed than the last time she’d seen you. Keeping an eye on you she continued the call, watching you swipe back and forth between drafting an email and your text chain with someone. Every single time a text banner popped up at the top of the email screen you’d either huff or roll your eyes, attempting to ignore it until you were satisfied with the email and hit send, swiping back over. Your jaw tightened, no doubt grinding your molars together as tension began to build through your entire body, your thumbs furiously typing out a reply.

Emily watched as you closed the text chain, taking a deep breath, briefly closing your eyes in an attempt to reset your focus before reopening your email. You were about a third of the way through drafting the email when another three texts came through and you let out an exasperated grunt, your phone making a low flip through the air before landing on the other end of the couch and you dug through your bag to pull out what she assumed to be your work phone. Whoever was hassling you clearly didn’t have that number as you were easily able to finish the email on it and ignore the intermittent buzzing from more texts. Eventually your personal phone starting vibrating with a call, threatening to leap off the side of the couch and you grabbed it at the last minute, picking up with your voice low as to not interrupt Emily.

“What?” You hissed, then let out an angry huff, pinching at the bridge of your nose, “I am at work! I already told you that and I will call you when I get home.” You hit the end call button and immediately powered off the device, burying it in the depths of your purse before dropping back against the couch to finish the second email.

At first Emily had been wondering if it was DiNozzo, firing off teasing text after text, taunting you about being in the BAU Section Chief’s office all alone on lunch break. But the way she could tell the absolute frustration and anger was building up deep in your body all the way to your bones, stiffening every muscle, it was worse than that. Not to mention he definitely knew you weren’t at work. It also clearly wasn’t a work issue if they couldn’t get a hold of you through that phone.

You finished the email, gently placing the device down on the coffee table and bracing your elbows on your knees, your hands running over your face as you took a couple of deep breaths. Now finalizing details of her own conversation Emily couldn’t quite tell if you were fighting off the urge to throw your phone out the window, or if you were biting back tears. What she did know was that either way, she didn’t like it and whoever was making you feel this way was the one who deserved to be thrown out the window.

Hanging up the phone she rounded the desk, crossing the room as she took a seat beside you.

“Hey… you okay?”

“Hm?” You nearly jumped at how close she was when you pulled your head out of your hands.

“I asked if you were okay?” She repeated softly, her hand sliding across the couch toward you, changing her tactic in hopes you might open up, “kinda skipped the whole aftercare part today…”

“No! no, Em, that was perfect.” You assured her, your hand darting out to squeeze at hers, “I’m fine. Jetlag and I just aren’t exactly friends, it’s thrown everything off and made me a little moody. Kinda been out of it since we got back.” With a sigh you leant forward, finally ripping open the take out bag.

“Yeah.” She replied, biting at her lip, “something does almost feel like it’s missing.” She accepted a container of chicken chow mein and a fork from you as you opened your own container.

“Could have something to do with the lack of sunshine and ocean air.”

“Very true.” She laughed, taking a few bites of food, letting out a groan of appreciation over how much better it tasted than cafeteria food.

You scooped up a couple of shrimp, managing to shovel them into your mouth, chewing for probably too long before reaching for your soda. What normally would have been a comfortable silence filled the room, but you were still radiating tension and Emily was worried, especially when after two more mouthfuls of food you seemed to be spending more time staring into the counter stabbing shrimp as if they were the ones blowing up your phone.

“Hey…” she reached out slowly, her hand resting on your knee before she squeezed it. Your fork stopped moving but she caught the way your shoulder tensed up, refusing to look up at her yet “I promise you; I make a very hard habit to not profile the people in my personal life but you caught me at work, in full profiler mode and something’s clearly up… talk to me…”

With a sigh you leant forward, placing down your lunch and you shifted on the couch, pulling one leg up under you so you were turned more toward her. You gave her a look, your lips pursing off to the side and her head tilted, a knowing almost glare in her eye.

“And don’t you dare tell me you’re just tired. That may be a contributing factor here, but whoever’s on the other side of that phone,” she gestured to your purse, “is clearly causing you grief.”

“It’s stupid.” You shrugged, “I don’t need to bother you with my personal hang ups when you’re in the middle of a case so big you’ve dragged NCIS into it.”

“You absolutely do.” She replied, her hand still resting on your knee, thumb soothing across your leg, “well, I mean, I guess you don’t have to. But I’d really like it if you would, advice, sounding board, silent partner to vent to, how to hire a hitman?” Her lips twitched up, “whatever you need I’m here.”

“Emily!” You scolded and a warmth bloomed through her chest at the sight of you truly smiling, a small laugh on your features as you shook your head at her.

“Hey, I know a guy…”

“I’m starting to think I might have to report you.” You teased back and she mocked offence, her hand mimicking clutching pearls before she laughed, leaning back toward you and bumping your shoulder with hers.

“C’mon, what’s going on?”

You took another heavy breath, scooping your lunch back up and settling into the corner of the couch, “I was getting ready for work this morning and my mother decided it would be the perfect time to call.”

“Okay well I already don’t like the sound of this.”

“Yeah.” You shot her a knowing glance, pausing for a small bite of food, “I kid you not the call was six minutes and forty two seconds and in that small amount of time she just fucking tore me apart. She asked how I’d been, I said I was good, getting ready for work. She then began to dig into my job, asking if I’d gotten any kind of promotion recently, that I deserved a pay increase. Asking why I’m still interning following Heather around like a lost dog after all these years, I should be doing more, could be out there using that law degree, ‘making a name for myself’.”

“She has no idea what it is you actually do, does she?” Emily asked dryly and you nodded with a huff.

“Not a clue. Which doesn’t help the nagging in other departments, before I can even get a word in besides the fact that I love my job she’s going off on how I could afford a nice place to live on a better salary. That ‘the dump’ I was living in last year could certainly use an upgrade and she could send me some listings if need be.”

“Your place is literally bigger than mine.”

“Yeah, but it’s not an eleven million dollar mansion.” Your nose crinkled in distaste, “she doesn’t understand why I would bother to live quote un quote ‘modestly’ when I could definitely be flaunting myself to a higher career and fancier lifestyle with fast cars and expensive yet boring houses.”

“She doesn’t really get how money works, does she?”

“Nope.” You stabbed another piece of shrimp, though this one remained on the fork as you continued to talk, “but don’t worry, I couldn’t even try to explain it if I wanted to. She then veers off another tangent, asking if I still talk to April who I went to high school with back in Connecticut, because she lives out here now. I say I haven’t and she asks about three other friends who happened to have moved out to D.C. post graduation yet have nothing in common with me anymore. Like, I haven’t talked to most of these girls in over twenty years! I reminded her about a couple of other friends she’s met and she breezes directly past it ignoring every single thing I say. She managed to belittle not just me but everything that makes me, me in such a short span of time, it just…”

“Sucked…”

“Yeah.” You finally popped the piece of shrimp into your mouth, chewing slowly while digesting your ranting, feeling the tension beginning to leave your body. “She finally got around to the point of the phone call as I reminded her I had a very important job to get to and it turns out I actually have an inheritance.”

“I feel like there’s a but coming….” Emily countered and you cast her a look.

“Mom’s feeling pretty insecure about how she’s aging –which, is likely thanks to all the chain smoking, drinking, fast food and tanning – so she’s decided she’s flying out to California to get a whole slew of plastic surgery and cosmetic work done. And of course if she’s going all the way out there she may as well take her two best friends for a girl’s trip before the procedures.”

“And your inheritance is paying for all of it?”

“Including the friends tickets, yeah.” You threw your fork back into the container, “I didn’t even know I had an inheritance!”

Emily watched with a frown as you dropped yourself back into the couch, “offer still stands to pay you for your time.”

“No, Em really” you shook your head, “it’s not even about the money. I—it’s… I’m tired, I’m frustrated, it’s cold and shitty weather, things are off and parents… fucking suck. I just thought for once maybe she’d be happy for me but she didn’t even hear a word I said.”

“I’m sorry.” She murmured, placing her lunch down on the table as she shifted toward you. She could see the shimmering in your eyes already and if you were as weirdly tired and jetlagged as she’d been feeling, crying would just make the entire thing worse and you’d likely be embarrassed on top of it all. So she wrapped an arm around your shoulders, tucking you into her side and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “Parents fucking suck.”

“Yeah.” You replied with a dejected sigh, sinking into her embrace and you felt the anxiety shaking in your chest finally calming down as the scent of her perfume drifted into your nose. Her hand rubbed up and down your arm, her lips brushing against your temple again.

“Hey, I’m sorry I had to cancel Thursday, I feel like you need some company right now.”

“It’s fine.” You wiped at your eye quickly before sitting up, “I’m sure I’m not much fun I already got compared to a toddler today.”

Her brow furrowed but she didn’t address the comment, “this week’s still out but as long as the case doesn’t take us out of state can I at least take you for brunch Sunday?”

“Can it be in the Maldives?” You asked, the corner of your lips twitching up.

“Pretty long flight for one meal.”

“What if we never came back?”

Emily laughed softly, squeezing at your hand, “that’d be a dream. C’mon, we don’t even have to go out if you’re not up for it. I’ll just bring over a McMuffin and we can pretend its brunch.”

A small smile came over your cheeks, “I’d like that.”

“Good.” Her hand caressed your cheek, fingers trailing up your jaw until a finger curled behind your earlobe, “you know I don’t think these little guys are doing their jobs very well. If they were whispering compliments all morning you’d probably be in a better mood.”

You laughed softly, a blush on your cheeks, “they’re probably too cold to talk right now.” The sound of half the team returning to the bull pen pulled both of your attention in the direction of the door and you let out a soft sigh, “I should get outta here before Tony comes back. If I’m still in your office I will quite literally never hear the end of it.”

Emily laughed, standing when you did, “hey, you text me tonight if you need anything, okay?”

“Yeah, I will.” You slipped your coat back on, your purse over your shoulder as you turned back to her. A second later and you were stepping toward her, wrapping her in a tight hug that she returned, “thank you.”

“Hey,” she only pulled away as far as she needed to in order to kiss your cheek, “anytime. I mean it.”

___________________

@mickey-gomez @momlifebehard @daddy-heather-dunbar @maybe-a-humanbean @rustyzebra @leftoverenvy @kades95 @dextur @supercriminalbean @emilyprentisssluvr @lex13cm @zizzlekwum @emobabeyy @riveramorylunar @scorpsik @onmykneesformarvel @inlovewithemilyprentiss @regalmilfs4me @ara-a-bird @inlovewithmiddleagewomen @kmc1989 @irishavengersassemble @hopedoesntknow @venromanova @waitaminuteashh @noahrex @imlike-so-gaydude @wittygutsy @cx-emerald-cx cx @momily @nilaues @borinxnovak @soverign @v3nusxsky @mccdreamys-writes @l4yne @obsessedwjill @asolitaryrose3 @lisqueen @mrs-prentiss @whitewinewithice @d33pd3sire-blog @daffodil-heart @maximoffcarter @i-lovefandom @chimnlex @moonlightjxuregui @chestnutninny @gamma-rae-bursts @just-moondust @idkifimasub @gaydragonwitch @dowsedwithbleach @divergentalwaysandforever-blog @m1lfsh4ke

[connoisseursdecomfort]

Inspired by Yumeka's post here.

On whether or not Yor and Loid are present when Anya's being kidnapped, my bet is currently on "no".

I feel that Yor and Loid did not witness Anya being kidnapped based on these few scenes:

Bond is present as they arrived at the dwelling.

He bites off the symbol of the uniform.

He then hands the piece of cloth to Loid, giving him the confirmation that a certain organisation has kidnapped Anya.

Coincidentally, in the trailer, when Loid holds the piece of cloth, he says, "Has Anya somehow stumbled into that issue related to the military?" (Something like this.)

On Yor being jealous after seeing Loid interacting with a woman in the car. It's extremely convenient to say that Fiona's the woman in the car, because she's shown to be in a car. It could be someone else, but also, it could be the anime production team being a troll.

There are things I'd like to add.

Why does she want to get the "chocolate" in the first place?

Anya is a kid, but most of the time out of her fear of being abandoned, she's very well-behaved. But here she's holding the key asking, "Is my family going to fall apart?" This might be the reason she feels the need to get to the "chocolate", and eats in accidentally in the process.

I feel like it's almost a must that Yor and Loid would not work together - the movie has to be anime-onlies friendly, and they still have to hide their identities from each other.

There's a small detail on how Twilight's going to get to Anya though.

It is very likely he's going to get in by pretending to be someone who is of higher ranking (two diamonds vs the leader and the lower-level goons) - this could get him access to more places.

Yor tho. Her MO is to march in kill everyone. So. Yup...

Anya has said "Go to hell, baby" twice. I am expecting her to say it at least the third time in the movie.

(Manga spoilers alert under the cut)

I think the movie would most probably be placed after Chapter 58.

Two reasons:

First being it is confirmed that Chapter 59 is animated.

The second being Bond finally has learned that he should bite the arms, not the legs:

In a more emotional note (blue curtaining the fuck out), he learned to keep himself safe in order to give Loid (and Yor) the information they needed:

Edit: Thank you, Yumeka, for the comment. I personally still think it's a problem mainly because on Loid's side, although he knows Yor is trusting, is it wise (pun unintended) to show off his skills as he gets a uniform, a gun and maybe a mask as he gets in?

Especially when in Ch.59 she's still trying to explain to Loid why she's this strong.

But again, this is just my speculation and the reasoning of my speculation~ You could be right - Anya's in danger, and when children are in danger, Yor tends to not hide her strength and just rush to save the kid. Just like what she did in Ch.59 for Becky.

[jainydoe]

Misdirection, Ch. 3

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Dinner at Bar Vorgoth.

She’s somewhat shocked she’s arrived first. The afternoon had been spent listening to Classical FM, Nevarra’s Very Best All-Classical Station. She’d write down the names of the artists they played, Brahms, Chopin, Schubert, her voice lilting up and up a class or two and exaggerated as she practiced her Oh, I would simply Adore another glass, thank you, Jeeves. Neve laughed into her hair and finished placing little diamond pins, small and powder blue. Making her hair look magicked and wistful. Like a fairy dream. Rook snorted. 

“This guy knows what I’m like, now, you know. That I’m no lady. Just a fucking carwreck. Not even serious enough to get promoted to trainwreck, but hey, I’m working on it.” 

“All the more reason to give him whiplash.”

Neve’s closet was suited to her and her only, but a satin number and some gold adornments might tickle his fancy, they figured. They’d made an event of it. Rook would describe him, his strangeness, his vaguely familiar yet saran wrapped tone, down to the shoes, the way his presentation was a mix of bruised earth, ripe fruit and the dazzle in the rough, and together, they crafted Rook: Serpentine She-Devil. Rook: Angel of Death. Rook: The Smiling, Beguiling Wildling. Rook: Emmrich Devourer. Each its own box-office hit. 

Neve was a chronic gumshoe who hated cars, which meant having to take the tube to the part of town Rook never visited. Tonight, she’d deign to stalk its corners. Grace them all with her laugh and textured history. Her embellishment of monotony. Seduce them with her unflinching youth. Maybe it was in her head, but the air was colder here. The nighttime - a more familiar companion. Whatever, she didn’t need a coat. Coats were for suckers. She hoped her nipples were hard in a cute way and not sleazy as she looked up at the entrance to the place. It was a hotel. Jesus, alright. They hadn’t discussed sex. And, frankly, she was a little surprised he’d be so, well, quick about it? Nonetheless, she smoothed a hand over her hair, lifted her chin, You’re posh, you’re posh, you’re posh, you’re posh, and saw on the right hand side of the lobby was a restaurant. She approached. Goddamn, if these heels were any louder I’d kill myself. 

“Hi, uh,” Wrong. Incorrect. Try again. “Hello. I’m meeting someone for dinner.” 

The hostess, are they called hostesses at places like this, had a molasses stare, slow and thick and too uninterested to focus. As if saying obviously you’re here for dinner, genius. What’s this look like, the barn you hoofed from? “Name.”

Fuck. Reservations are under last names. She didn’t know his last name. Maybe it was on his profile? But she didn’t wanna check and it’s probably an alias, anyway, and this lady’s just staring and she’s so skinny and Rook’s wasting her time, there’s no one behind her but she’s, like, actively making her shift worse, so she shrugs, lifts a hand as if to say fuck if I know, bitch but instead says, “Emmrich?” She guesses it came across in a way that’s bored and unimpressed because when she says his name, the hostess straightens. She actually smiles, eyes widening. It’s fucking off-putting. 

“Ah, right this way, miss.”

Miss. Right. Okay.

They glide through the seating, tables littered with suits and gowns who don’t look her way, purely enraptured with each other. She sees a girl, blonde and grinning, just about ready to eat her date. And the way he looks at her. She wouldn’t be surprised if she was someone he paid for, too. But to him, it’s a deal. He’s managed to secure the world and she only costs a small fortune. She feeds a bite of something decadent onto his tongue, and wraps her lips around the spoon to lap up whatever crumbs he’s left for her. It feels wrong to watch them. This foreplay. This exchange. But she’s studying, so actually it’s perfectly fine and she should honor the fact she’s rubbing elbows with the greats. Rook tries to memorize everything about her in the seconds it takes for the hostess to guide her to an elevator. 

“There’s a second floor?”

“For our elite guests.”

It’s a covered patio with a single table at the center, something nouveau-medieval about it. Maybe it’s the lighting, or the fact it runs long and decorated. She wants to order but figures a guy like this will wanna order for her. Hell, he’d probably have a better handle on what she should be drinking, anyway. Maybe she’ll discover new signatures tonight. New favorites. New desires.

She should’ve brought a fucking coat.

“Manfred, please, I implore you.” He takes his round, pale face in his hands, squishing his cheeks and pressing their foreheads together. “Enough with the Cocomelon.” His laugh was more of a wheeze, fingers grabbing at Emmrich’s ears in the way that meant it was time for Papa to make him fly. Like the elephant from that movie. The one that can fly. You know it. Dingo. “Yes, yes, Dingo Daddy will help you fly.” He lifted Manfred onto his shoulders, arms tucked tight under his chin as they descended the stairs. “Let us explore, Manfred! Perhaps the two of us can find that blasted babysitter.” He hoped murmuring to himself would keep his sentiments private. A fruitless endeavor when the boy was around. Emmrich could hear his little bl bl bl-s as he tried sounding out the words. At least it’ll be enough to distract him. He’s running behind schedule and it’s ages before the doorbell rings. 

“I’m so sorry, Professor, my car ran out of gas and I had to fill it and I had this paper I needed to finish reading for a friend and-”

“Bellara, stop,” he raises his hand, and for a moment, allows her to feel the weight of his importance. “How many times do I have to remind you to call me Emmrich? Should we begin a swear jar?”

She laughs, clearly shaken. Good. He’s late and Manfred snuck into the snack pantry before dinner. This means running through the living room, iPad videos on full volume as he crafts impromptu … creations. He doesn’t mention it, out of spite, but wishes her luck, nonetheless. He’d been hesitant to hire an old student to babysit, but Bellara simply adored Manfred. Freddie. And Manfred’s taken to her. Pretends her hair, its signature bun, is a crystal ball where he can predict futures yet to be metabolized. He’s utterly enraptured by her gadgets, and over the months, has come to expect that she shares some new gizmo, some electric marvel, each time she visits, his eyes shining by how truly wonderful Princess Bell’s world can be. And as their night comes to its end,  he, inevitably, curls against her chest, dozes off with his thumb in his mouth and snores, gently, like a fresh pup. Late at night, Emmrich cries. Goes over the case files of his spoiled relationship with Johanna, as if hoping to figure out how he could’ve made her stay for their son. If she could’ve been the mother he needed. Maybe if she’d gotten to share something with him, had him fall asleep in her arms, instead, perhaps if he saw limitless futures in her, she’d have stuck around. She might not have raised him into a good man, but at least she’d have raised him, at all. Maybe that would’ve been enough. Instead of a husk, a shell, an idea of a man playing house and trying not to snuff out Manfred’s zest for life too soon. Instead, he’ll kill Rook. Buy her prime and, in exchange, offer a hollow but beautiful future. One where she can mourn the loss of her girlhood in a penthouse. Sob away the memories of him taking every bit of her, but in a clawfoot tub with lavender bubbles and a glass of bubbly on permanent standby. He knows she must be miserable, already. Recognized that bite all street rats, like him, can’t shrug off. At least he can make her miserably rich. Like those purse dogs hanging by a thread, snarling, ready to strike at the closest sign of a warm hand. 

He’s five minutes late and sweating when he strides into Bar Vorgoth, smile prepped for Patrice. They exchange no words as she takes him to his lady in waiting. The elevator thrums. 

“Your,” she pauses, and he can see her nerves spike as she realizes her near blunder, “party, has already arrived.”

“Surprising.”

That makes her laugh. He gives her a grin that says thanks for the discretion, I’ll tip well for it and steels his shoulders for his entrance. You’re fine. You’re calm. You’re loaded. You’re 

The doors open and she turns, quickly, flicking a cigarette over the balcony and waving away the very present evidence of smoke. Like a teenager caught sneaking her mom’s Virginia Slims. Cute.

“I’m sure you’ll forgive me for being late.” Yeah, good going, rub it in that she was tardy last time. No matter the fact she was literally saving her best friends from starving in the woods. What’s your excuse, old man? Life Alert take too long to show up?

She lets her head fall to the side, peering up at him through her lashes. Her makeup is glittery and soft in a way he’s seen on the television, nowadays. A modern woman. Electric. 

“And I’m sure you’ll understand if I need a quick cry before we eat. Maybe I should smash a plate, or something.” 

It’s nice that she’s having fun. That they can joke. This is a good sign. They’re already laughing things off. And it’s not at each other. Not a battle. There was always a little part of him burned and stung with. You know who. His fondest memory is when she’d tackled him in the marbled corridor of the department, exam waving in his face. “I beat you, I beat you, I beat you, Volkarin! Eat it up! Suck it, chump! You fucking peacock! What grade did you get, again?”

“An A.”

“An A MINUS! HA! Idiot! Say it! Say you’re an idiot!”

“I’m an idiot.” 

“I KNOW! HA!”

The jokes stopped being funny when she got let go from the Bureau’s interview process. Turns out, grades don’t matter more than passing your psych evals. 

Johanna was an elevator. Thrumming up and up and up until she suddenly became a surprise canon and shot you out like cheap, homemade ammo. Left her gunpowder residue on your cheeks and lit you on fire, everywhere. 

There’s a part of her, Rook, that feels familiar in that way. Like she’s a live wire ready to shock him numb and zap him into comatose. It frightens him. It makes him want to curl into his sheets and keep crying. Put on something soapy and swear off women for good. But then he pictures her legs straddling him, burrowing under the sheets as she kisses his tears away and laughs, asking if he wants to stop being a baby and take Manfred out for something sweet. 

He’s too busy imagining a future with her, taking pleasure in the fear it sparks, that he doesn’t notice until they’re seated that she’s freezing. Don’t look down don’t look down don’t look down don’t

“Would you like my coat? Or scarf?”

She straightens her shoulders, smile tight-lipped and jaw pulled taught. “That, that would be lovely, yes, thank you.” 

It swallows her and drowns him in ooey-gooey lust. It’s been five minutes, Try to act like you’ve done this before. You’re Volkarin. The one who banged their Criminology professor and ran from her husband stark naked into the night. The guy who threw the best parties, ragers, bacchanals, saddled the hottest men in class and had the stamina to show for it. Stop acting like this is primary school and Rook is the girl with the prettiest hair. Though, to be fair, it is quite pretty. Very charming in the moonlight. She’s almost vampiric in the way she glows under the barest allowance of a twilight gleam. The night has claimed her its own. It almost makes him jealous. The stars oughtta hide their fires, already. Jesus. 

His coat isn’t scratchy or cool to the touch. It’s warm. It’s inviting. She’s embarrassed by the fact she almost nuzzles against its lapels, covering herself in him. This is the nicest thing she has ever worn and it’s as white-hot shameful as it is a simmering power. But then she remembers this is probably a little hot to watch, too, and lets herself stretch into it, arms wrapping across her chest like it’s the only thing keeping her from complete nudity. “I love your coat.”

“Thank you. A cosmic aubergine suits you.” Aubergine. Aubergine. Cos-mic Au-ber-gine. The tick of the tone up then three hops down, its own, sweet hopscotch. “It’s my belief a couple should,” he’s pink, “get to know one another.” Couple? “Where are you from?”

“Here and there.”

“What do you do for work?” “This and that.” He narrows his eyes, nodding. “Well, clearly, right now I’m taking a sabbatical from saving the world to indulge in more pleasurable pursuits.”

“And what’s your idea of pleasure?”

What’s his idea of pleasure? Mahjong? Feeding birds? Nevermind, it’s paying impressionable young women to gorge on decadent food and answer inane questions on their personal lives that will be forgotten before the evening ends. Perhaps if she were rolling in it, she’d find some sick draw to it, too. “Accompanying handsome men to rooftop dinners.”

“Then it’s something you do often?” It’s probably a trick of the light, the way his eyes harden, prudish and girlish. It’s familiar. She throws him a bone.

“No.” She stares at the table between them, scratches a nail down the tablecloth. “Not as much as I hope to, anyway.”

He clicks his tongue. “Do you see yourself entertaining any other,” he raises an eyebrow, “handsome men in the near future?” 

She wants to be angry at this unexpected possessiveness. What does he know? Maybe she’s got loads of messages from old-timers and midlife freaks. Maybe she’s considering hiring a personal assistant to manage her calendar and send out dainty envelopes with polaroids and sticky lipstick kisses. Xoxo, your Rook.

But somewhere dark and untouched, she’s flattered. That they’ve spent maybe an hour together and he’s already wanting to brand her. Stamp his initials on her neck and ass just in case she planned on wandering into any nearby pastures. She’s sweet on him. Maybe there’s something to this guy. Something even more familiar than a guarded sense of self. Something pathetic and desperate. Doleful and grotesque. Penurious and suppliant and craven. Wretched. She’s practiced this smile for the past two hours, the left corner of her mouth drawing up with a fishing line, predatory and cruel in its enchantment. “Now why would I do that when I’ve got you?”

She takes note of the way he crosses his legs but sets his sight. Like this whole time, they’ve just been setting the board, and now she’s played pawn to E4. He’s as en-garde as he is impressed. She feels like a minx. 

“Good.”

Dinner is served and this character she’s worn becomes faded and frayed. He doesn’t mind. She enjoys holding her glass of wine, lifting her shoulder, taking in everything around them. It gives him the chance to take in her. Far more reserved than she’s let on. Maybe not as experienced, but a quick study. She’s got stories that outshine his. He asks her what she did before signing up for the site and she flattens her hands against the table, buzzed and buzzing with energy, “Okay, so get this-” He finds himself swallowing down gulps of air to fuel his laughter, “Forgive me, you got corralled into signing up for a fight club? Not only that, but did nothing to prepare. And then they put you up to bat with the most formidable challenger available?”

She shrugs, as if this story is one of hundreds. He bets that’s true. “What can I say, ain’t no rest for the wicked.” He hopes he won't be just one of her stories. Knows it's inevitable, but hopes anyway. She asks what he does to afford such a high society lady as herself. “Let me guess, you’re, um, wait, I got this, I’m good at this, okay, so,” she places her fingers on her temples and scrunches her nose, “Banker.” He chuckles, low and satisfied. She turns her head, staring harder. “Nah, no way. You’re too interesting to be a banker.”

“What makes you say that?”

She shakes her head, stabs a fork into her lamb and points at him. “Look at the way you dress. You’ve got on, like, what is that, a bolo?”

He places his hand over his collar. “It’s vintage.”

“My point, exactly. And this coat, I mean, way too cool for someone who's devoted their life to numbers.”

He supposes that’s true. Takes a small pride in being thought of as hip. With it. Swankified and fresh. Do the kids still say fresh? He won’t ask. “So then what’s your guess?”

She leans back, chin up. Comfortable. He takes great pride in it. “I don’t know, yet. But I will.”

When dessert arrives, she’s so focused on the display of it, the flaming glory of one’s first Baked Alaska, that he lets himself take in the sweetness of her sincerity. The truth of her joy. And his eyes melt down the way his coat has parted, making room for her chest, her full belly, fabric creasing into every bit of her like something poured. She takes a spoonful, practically salivating, and he can see her almost offer him a bite. Something switches. Her eyes shift from giving to taking. She devours the cream and merengue and cake, cheshire and aggressive. His throat is dry. “I have one more surprise this evening.”

Her eyes widen. “For me?”

“Just you.” He passes her a card key. “The beds are divine and the bathtubs are small oceans.” He hopes he isn’t being too forward. This is just a kindness. He’s a patron. A sponsor. A friend. It must be a trick of the light, the way her eyes are just. Well. Disappointed. 

“Thank you.” 

“My pleasure.”

He swells and puffs up and is downright giddy as he feeds off her excitement. She practically dashes to the lobby elevator, flashes her key at the bellhop and whispers in his ear Penthouse, please!

He catches her eye before the doors close, and in a shock to them both, she blows him a kiss. Followed by a wink. She hold up her hand, mimicking a phone, mouths out a CALL ME and, at that, disappears. The world is a haze and life but a dream on the drive home. He’s electric. He’s a sparked canon. He almost gives Bellara a kiss on the forehead when he gets home, wants to jump up onto the kitchen counter and shout I HAD A DATE THAT ENDED DECENTLY WELL AND I THINK WE ACTUALLY GET ALONG AS PEOPLE, CAN YOU BELIEVE IT!

He waves her goodbye and almost shuts the door, when something familiar lodges in his throat. That’s Rook’s car. 

They know each other. 

Good thing those stars hid their fires. 

[cherri-balms]

♡﹕𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓, 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓! — CH.1 — Normal Girl

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A/N ﹕Chapter 1 is finally out!! I apologize if this took a little while, I have an idea for an Alastor fic brewing and if all things go well, the prologue/pilot chapter will be the next thing I post!

As always if you would like to be added to the taglist, shoot me a DM and ill get back to you asap!! <3

This chapter is primarily exposition and fluff, so there are no content warnings for this chapter aside from a brief description of making oneself vomit.

𝐄 × 𝐌/𝐅 × 𝟓.𝟐𝐤 × 𝐎𝐧𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 × 𝐀𝐎𝟑

♡﹕Bring-your-reader to work day as one of the most famous idols in hell! Or, what it's really like working as one of the most famous idols in hell under the thumb of the VEES.

6:00 PM

Your alarm begins your morning with its typical assault to the ears and dragging  you out of what was once a beautiful slumber, for a while your subconscious was even able to create a darling little wonderland blend of hell and personal heaven, but all good dreams had to come to an end at sometime soon.

Sitting up, you begin your typical morning work routine of getting dressed, brushing your teeth and whatever other morning activities that needed to be done. Surrounding you are dozens of printed posters and scrolls of yourself watching you get changed, most of which being limited edition merchandise from your concerts, and almost all of them had in bold letters “MONΛRCH” somewhere on the prints. After your meeting with Vox that day, he insisted that if you were going to work with the brand of the Vees that you were to take on a stage name to said brand. Before you could go through your mental filing cabinet to find something that would fit, Vox informed you that he had already picked your name from the moment you walked in: Monarch. It took a second for you to realize, but the patterns currently adorning your body with the resemblance of a monarch butterfly made it click. Plus, you did like how powerful the name sounded.

The last step of your routine was always to consult yourself a sprint checkup on your voice synthesizer and then perform some finetuning. Your current synthesizer is nowhere close to your first one, hell the damn thing originally couldn't even get wet, nor was it surgically bolted into your neck, though the two still shared similar parts in case the need for a quick repair arose.

… Aaaand of course speak of the fallen angel, that said scenario was precisely why you keep a constant eye on the quality of your synthesizer, because the screw connecting your voice bank and vocal chords was chipped. Sure, it was minute but even the smallest imperfection could lead to rust and infection that you just couldn’t afford.

The bottom half of your dresser vanity would appear to be nothing but a foundational box with a front facing panel and some regal metalsmith carvings  if not for the card-slot keyhole poking out the right side. You keep the key hidden on your person at all times, while the contents inside hold no value in money or power you’re sure the reactions to what could be construed to be a stalkerish shrine to your boss would be the end of your reputation.

And his too you guess but you’re the cute one here.

Lifting your pointer finger to the back of your neck, using the slight dent of your nail to nudge out a tiny rectangular panel of your synthesizer. Or, it would be rectangular if not for the carefully cut notches on one of the sides.

You slip the key into the slot as far as it will reach, bypassing all 4 clicks then rewarding you with a 5th at ths decompressing tightness of the spring lock hinge. The once stiff panel now slides open, though not exactly with grace with it getting friction jammed against the frame caused by lack of use.

Not quite having time to spare getting distracted by your keepsakes you reach to the glass case to the left containing your prototype voice bank collar displayed like a diamond atop a blue silk pillow. You’re absolutely certain if  Vox discovered you still held the beta technology he would gag like you were saving a meal that's gone bad. Absolutely adorable, knowing if you’d present it to any sinner in hell it’d be easy to convince them it was state of the art, brand new.

One screw acquired and you’re out of there, locking everything the way it was before, box, vanity, bedroom door, apartment door. The commute to the VHQ could barely even be considered a walk, actually, most of the housing within a 3 mile radius of their building was ultimately owned by the Vees reserved for employees. Smart way to both keep their people in line and control exactly who’s around at all times, gotta give them credit when credit is due.

The dredging silence over the span of two months had you in an urge to claw beneath your skin to tear out the stabbing anticipation that seemed to grow within. Should that evolve into a spiral well of anxiety you'd been worried the business plan sealed in ink turned into a ghost, but you were informed before your leave that Rome wasn’t going to be built in a day so you were left with nothing to do but respect his unspoken wishes.

When the hour struck and you received the details for the date and time of your next meeting in a bare bones text, you wish you could say it put your short term torture to a close, but the years worth of screaming in static was finally going to be over. You couldn’t make time move any faster, only make yourself move faster to prepare for your next encounter with the overlord that could now be considered your master.

“Monarch! Good, right on time, Now come sit.” Your overlord spins around the chair to your direction, beckoning you his way. You silently do as you’re told sitting legs pressed together handbag in your lap, before you even had a chance to touch the zipper for your tablet he waves your hands away.

“Nuh-uh, you don’t need to bother yourself with that anymore. I’m sure you know why I called you?” By the way his smirk stretched across the screen while his left hand reached below his desk you’d nearly assume he was just as excited as you for this day. You feel your eyelids pull back and you swore your eyes reflected twice as much light than when you first sat down if you could catch a glimpse of yourself.

The device presented to you in his hands looked identical to its future self if not for the fresher coat of polish it bore. You must confess you weren’t too sure what you were envisioning for this gadget to come out looking like, actually you realized you were never imagining something metaphysical at all, the technological cure to your aid came in the mental form of an intangible concept closer to a myth. But what was before your eyes was.. actually pretty underwhelming.

It looked like nothing but a steel box speaker attached to a collar with a dial, bare and simple. You caught a peek at something poking out on the other side behind it, but it didn’t catch your interest long enough to retain the observation. You weren’t aware enough to try and hide your confusion but you may have done a better job than you thought at not letting it show since he didn’t react until you cocked your chin to the side.

“Well what are we waiting for! Let’s get this show on the road and try it out, yeah? Turn around.” You were practically standing and turned before he could even finish the command. Sharp blue needles brush over your cheeks and under strands of hair lifting them behind your ears. You make the sound of the buckles on the collar before it’s veiled over your vision and behind your neck. “Fair warning, this will definitely be painful!”

Mayhaps you should’ve taken a bigger note on what you saw behind the box earlier, because you instantly got to discover what it was as spear headed clamps bury dormant in your throat through your neck so sharp it could pierce bone. Pain didn’t even begin to describe what you were feeling, it was like your brain tossed you back in time to repeat your lungs combusting to ash and your body soon reacted like you were suffering such fate again, causing you to start jumping and swatting out of the arms of your savior as if he were your next next killer.

“AAAAAAHH-aaahhhh?” Was that y- there’s no way. 

You tested again in case this was another instance of your psyche filling in the gaps of a voice once more.

“aaahhhhhh~AAAHH~~” You weren’t dreaming. What you were asking from him from the start felt like asking the impossible but the result you were given far exceeded any daydream you conjured to cope with your situation, but not only had the overlord given you a brand new voice by some miracle, the voice he gave you was the same you had in life, the same smooth melody you forgot you could produce.

You turned around to face him, this time with tears blurring your view. Not an ounce of anger from your embarrassing attack his way earlier, only intrigue in your reaction to the gift. For the first time in years, you could speak and say anything in the world you wanted and now your mind was white noise. All you could do was bow your head in gratitude, though you aren’t sure if he was expecting that just based on the noise he made after.

“Hey- woah, no need for that now, not that I’m necessarily complaining,” You raise your head and you aren’t surprised by the shadow of ego stretching his grin across the screen. “I did some investigating into your mortal life to find samples of your work to make sure your voice would be nothing short of yours! Getting hands on anything in the overworld is a royal pain in the ass, though. I hope you keep that in mind.” 

Was he jesting? You were going to keep every bolt and circuit in mind for the rest of your afterlife. Perhaps it was the adrenaline, or the subtle new feeling of electrical surges flowing down the rivers of your veins, but just standing still with the amount of energy pumping in your body currently had you revived into a frankenstein marionette. 

You suppose a start could be a proper thank you, but when you attempted to mouth the words the frequency in which the simple “thank you, sir” stitched themselves together didn’t carry harmoniously, more like a broken collage of vocal pitches. Your hand cuts off your lips with a flare of pink to your cheeks, the oncoming cackling from your new boss turns that shade into deep red.

“Hahaha! I was wondering when you were gonna find that part out!” The laughter settles to a halt and he lifts a finger to wipe away a pixelated tear that doesn’t actually budge. “This model is just a beta voice bank and synthesizer, speaking will take some getting used to and once I get enough data from your use of it in the following weeks, I can begin working on improvements. I have a manual in my drawer containing the details for maintenance but for now, I have some people you need to meet.”

You were nodding your head along but you had to admit, you were not following completely. True you were unfamiliar with the recent spike in tech, but you didn’t think you were this poorly informed. You make a mental note of this as something you should start fixing asap if you were going to continue your career this way. Meanwhile, outside your thoughts, your boss is leading you to the front elevator.

Before you could prepare for a silent and awkward ride down, the TV filter breaks it again. “Oh, and can you stop with the whole “sir” talk, it’s a painfully stuffy-outdated form of addressing authority. Just address me as Vox, and everyone will know I’m your boss.” The elevator bell rings signaling the stopping floor. Your vision is brought to what looks like a madhouse production with women bustling in every direction skewing fabric across the space. It didn’t take long to put two and two together that this was some kind of clothing production, but seeing a fashion lineup in what you thought was a tech company put you in uncanny valley.

“No! No! No! Fucking disgraceful- what the hell is this shit Shae? Did you get sick all up on our silk or are you actually using vermillion and oli- VERMILLION AND FUCKING OLIVE SHAE DID YOU LEARN COLOR COORDINATION FROM THE COLOR BLIND?!” Alright that definitely drew your attention. The voice sounded like a female Gordon Ramsay for fashion instead of cooking, so it wasn’t difficult to assume she was the one in charge.

“Velvette! You’re as bitter as ever before.” The woman turns over, you had to admit her namesake fit well with her appearance and instantly the aesthetic made sense. Something about that cute white swirl she has in her hair reminded you of a sweet cheesecake frosting you could've devoured her on sight.

“Vox fuckin’ piss off mind you can’t you see I’m in the middle of somethi- who the fuck is this” Velvette squints in your direction like your appearance sucked away the rest of her eyesight. Seconds go by, and then a few more without a word being exchanged, only the next electrical surge from the nervous gulp of saliva reminding you that things didn’t have to be this way anymore.

You introduce yourself unashamed of the robotic slurred speech pattern and the face she makes could only be described as bewilderment.

“I- what in satan’s name was tha-”

“She’s mute, Velvette. Sweetheart this is the cornerstone of my little “Monarch” project I informed you of, and I actually came here to discuss that with you.”

“Wait a second the star of your new network is a mute bimbo- Vox did your motherboard circuits go fucking smooth?!” Self control was a virtue you’d mastered since life one, through thumb-tacks in your heels to schmoozing slimy pigs with deep pockets, the poker face would remain sewn to your cheeks. But here, you could feel the slightest twitch anytime this woman spoke. You couldn't give a damn how powerful she thought she was, the kinds of implications she was making towards Vox only made you want to shove bars of soap down her throat until it cleans the filth coating her mouth.

There was no fucking way you were ever going to tolerate that cunt.

The frosted blast of studio AC and diamond perfume became your standard morning welcome when clocking into work, upon so being greeted by the models and seamstresses on the floor of your first stop with your typical “good mornings” and “how are yous”. One of the newer interns approaches with multiple cardboard cup holder trays of coffee, and it didn’t take very long to find the cup with your favorite order, even if it weren’t for the bold lettering of your stage name on the outside.

You finish up your typical greetings making your way over to the dressing rooms where the rest of your stagemates are already gathered looking at the schedule. First on the docket was choreography training, no surprise since your instrumentalists were nowhere to be found, and then after lunch iss… oh wonderful! Outfit fitting! Which meant the whole afternoon with just you and Velvette.

This was going to be a perfect day, wasn’t it?

Speak of the devil and she shall not only appar, she’ll kick the front door down like it cheated on anniversary night and throw what was- probably a brand new Goeccia hand purse in the face of whomever was closest.

“EACH ONE OF YOU BETTER BE FUCKING CLOCKED AND AT YOUR POST IN THE NEXT MINUTE OR YOU’RE ALL SEWING THE ANGELIC!!KILLS LINE BY TONIGHT EVEN IF YOUR FUCKING FINGERS ARE WORN TO NUBS ARE WE CLEAR?! Now where the ever loving fuck is- There she is!!”

“Velvette!!”

The two of you run and embrace in the middle of the room like you had just returned from the great war and reuniting with your long lost lover at the end of a shitty romcom. This display, was one that also became a tradition between the two of you at the start of the work day, one you weren’t ignorant to the handful that still felt the need to eyeroll or squint.

Okay so,, your seeded disdain for Velvette was one you admittedly locked away in the vault of embarrassing memories to reap its head around only when trying to get a good night's sleep. You initially had spent the first month or so practicing every torture method known to man on the images your eyes sent you because of how she talked down to Vox like a dog, this was… before you found out she was an overlord too and suddenly the context of the relationship they shared made sense. A bitter part of the pride that landed you where you are today still wanted to leech onto any grain of malice toward her, eventually turning into a humiliating envy and possessiveness over Vox’s attention. In that span of time you made no effort to get to know Velvette or care about her work, even while she was making the outfits you wore on stage for you and she somewhat mutually felt the same about you. 

Luckily for the two of you, there was a third much more obnoxious V that was too perfect of low hanging fruit in the art if feminine hazing for you both to latch onto and find common ground on.

“I think this new hair style might be my new favorite! Locs look good on you~” Compared to how you felt the first time speaking with the prototype that sat in your vanity, the newer model of your synthesizer had a way more diverse voice bank and finetuning that made speaking feel and sound much more natural. Even with the mounds of progress from your prototype to present day, it was still obviously unnatural and robotic. These became factors that slowly mattered less as your gratitude increased, and you were content that not everyone was going to see it that way.

“See? I fucking told that nasty bed bug upstairs that I’d eat butterfly locs but what the fuck would he know when I can read my damn future in his forhead,” Velvette went a total of two minutes of the conversation before she pulled her phone out to check her instagram feed, a new accomplishment. You were proud. “Just so you’re aware by the way, Verosika Mayday announced  the release date of her Paint it Pink album like 35 minutes ago and people are already bringing your name into it. You got a lot to deliver with this upcoming tour.”

Lucifer bless Velvette for having the brain cells to keep up with surfing the modern social media tides you continuously wipe out on with every attempt. You could stomach social media enough for your job, but Velvette made sure to get you a top notch social media advisor to handle your accounts to make it seem like you were more active than you were. True as it was that your vocal synthesizer brought a new flair to the world of music; especially in the rise of electronica, techno and pop where your new voice couldn’t compare to any other sinner in the genres, this factor has also lead to a cluster headache of… Let’s just say controversy. Old fashioned demons in particular were the bane of everything you deemed holy just because how fucking annoying they were making their periodic hangups your god damn problem.

Before you could properly offer your gratitude your attention is taken by an obnoxious thump and “A-hem!” in the direction of the dressing room. Turning you can see the green lop bunny ears of your costar and you can assume she’s trying to tell you to move your ass. Drama was the last thing you had energy for so you blow a kiss goodbye to Velvette and made two shakes of a lamb's tail into the dressing rooms.

Today you didn’t need to worry about outfit planning, just something comfortable that you don’t mind sweating in for the better part of the day. A simple pair of running shorts, tank top and loafers should work more than fine for today, hopefully as long as Valentino didn’t decide to sit on today’s choreography exercises…

It wasn’t exactly the norm for dance practices for the remaining member of the V trifecta to sit in and give his shit commentary- kind critiques on your movements and appearances. If it were up to you or any of your coworkers, Valentino wouldn’t be anywhere near your production but alas, contractual standards came first. One of the stipulations upon starting your career as Monarch was your introduction to the Vee network and the ongoing partnership the three overlords held to upkeep their power within hell. Long and short, this meant that with each contract the Vees delt the other two business partner would also have to reap some sort of benefit; typically monetary gain.

In your case, Velvette easily got her reward by using your team as breathing mannequins to advertise her fashion line, not to mention she would ultimately be credited in every comment of the flashy costumes you wore at concerts and venues. Valentino’s side had free royalties to your music to play in his clubs and this usually came along with him having a say in the dances that go with the song. Every fucking time it was a Valentino session you all knew you were in for a long day of overtime, muscle pain, and playing sexual harassment bingo.

Two knocks on the door put your thoughts to a screeching halt.

“Monarch dear, are you descent~” Ah, it was your favorite voice in all of hell~ you run to the door with a skip in each step like a puppy listening for dangling keys outside the front door.

“Never~”

“Are you dressed?”

“Yes!”

“There’s the answer we’re looking for,” You welcome him inside with a pleasant “come in” and Vox follows as such. You maintain a safe distance and subtly restrain yourself by clasping your hands behind your back but you weren’t going to deny, days like today the tightrope beneath your feet of professionalism and your heartache was especially loose. You’re certain the love you felt for the man who saved your spirit was last year's news to everyone in the building, actually your “inappropriate devotion” has been the source of countless catfights among your bandmates.

“Monarch love! Horrific morning isn’t it~” You could listen to him talk all day, and when he approaches you and clasps a hand over your cheek leaning into the touch feels like second nature.

“Every day in the studio is a horrific morning, but I know that’s not what you came to talk to lil’ ol me about, isn’t it?”

“Why, you hurt me! Can’t I just start my morning visiting a beautiful painted lady?” You blink in a moment of silence until he finishes. True you loved soaking in his flattery, but not in feigned procrastination. “Valentino and I spoke this morning, or rather he threw a tantrum because I didn’t tell him I put Pomp and Circumstance on your schedule today..” 

Aaand there it is, of course you get to not only work with STI Patient-0, but he was already off to a shit mood to start the day. If the scales of fortune decide to tip your way at all during today you hope this tips in your favor, given the… technique you developed to avoid interacting with him as much as possible.

When you lift your head to meet your reflection, you have to tilt your head a bit higher than you remembered last, and your arms were now coiled around his waist. Oh, it seems matter won over mind again. The hand that once danced feathers over your cheek now caress massages in your scalp. Scandalous, sure. But there was nothing wrong with comforting a friend after a rough morning, right?

“Come, everyone else is already in the studio. Sorry I couldn’t start your day with anything pleasant, I hate being the reason you have a frown. So,” Your vision cuts into frames of bright white and a following zap, once, then twice again. In what feels like an instant Vox disappears and reappears within the electricity, but the second time he holds a brown fast food bag and a bright green M.

“OH MY GOD I LOVE MAMMONALDS! THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOUUU!!!” Stars of reflected light build in your eyes when you saw the bag. Reading the receipt taped to the front you can already tell the breakfast order is your favorite even down to your specific requests that made the receipt  go down past the bag but you knew the employees wouldn’t even dare try and get Vox’s order wrong. 

“Take a minute to eat and come to the studio, I didn’t get you a drink because I knew you were going to get coffee so I’ll get you a milkshake after choreography, kay?” You nod your head while already pulling out your side of hashbrowns and chowing down like a hamster nibbling a sunflower seed.

It was a sight so cute Vox wanted nothing but to squeeze you so tight your eyes pop out of your skull.

But there was no time to waste. Vox vanishes with a flicker of the lights and bolts yet again, and you take a couple last chews before you’re sure hes gone.

Standing up you make way to the connected bathroom to your dressing room and open the toilet seat. Immediately you shove two fingers into your throat and probe the back until it triggers your gag reflex enough to regurgitate every last bite you took. The slime of cheap grease and burn of overused salt always made you restrain a gag without fail anytime fast food was given to you, but god Vox just would not stop ordering that shit for you. Perhaps there was a chance you sold your “love” for Mammonalds a little too hard the first handful of times he’d gifted it to you; actually, you probably wouldn’t be in this situation at all if you just refused his offer to hand feed you a fry earlier on in your contract, and by all means you wanted to, but your body’s impulse had won that that day.

Tossing out the remaining food out of the bathroom window to the dumpster in the alley below you and flushing and cleaning any remnants of bile, you give yourself one last tidy up and make way to the next place you’re needed: the dance studio.

By some unholy miracle when you stepped out of the elevator, you weren’t met with condensed red smoke to the ceiling and a moth throwing a drink at your head. Drink or a bullet, whichever he thought would please him more.

“Fucking christ all mighty, the “Princess of the Hour!” finally arrives.” As expected, everyone had already gathered long before you while you were caught up with Velvette and Vox, the first one to greet you being the same moody green bunny from earlier, rolling her eyes and doing little jazz hands mid sentence to hammer in her sarcasm.

“Good morning to you too, Tea!! I’m glad you’re feeling well~” You made a decision to go on the dismissive today, Tea in particular always seemed to be in sour moods when it came to you being as chummy as you were with the Vees for a mere contracted soul. At the end of the day you couldn’t give less a shit about that twats petty jealousy issues if she only had the decency to keep it to damn self instead of making it your problem, and your problem at work nonetheless.

“Oh shut the fuck up Tea we aren’t in the mood for this today,” The lanky azure colored salamander man gently flicked Tea on the back of the head with a roll of the eyes and a vertical reptile blink. Out of all the members of your little group, Sirius was the closest thing you had to a voice of reason and it made him the most tolerable out of the bunch. In the corner too engrossed in their own conversations to even pay mind to any of you were two harpy girls, sisters actually. Black Marlia on the left and White Russian on the right, both of them added a much needed flare to your concerts and were the only two who could go airborne long enough to perform choreography above the stage, you liked to think they were valuable assets even if you could count the amount of times either has spoken to you on one hand.

“I hear we have to deal with Valentino’s bullshit today…” Sirius attempts to continue the conversation as the five of you start properly getting into position for when said moth comes in, it would look as if you’d all been wagging your tails for his arrival this whole time.

“You are the third to remind me of his existence today, if that number goes up I might have to fly away and leave you hanging~”

“Oh and here I thought you’d be ecstatic to be commanded by one of your masters for the better part of today.”

“Not the one who immediately calculated my ass and chest size in his head as an introduction.”

“Was he right though-”

“EVERYONE SHUT THE FUCK UP RIGHT NOW!” And just like that, any hope of this being a well off- or even standard Valentino work day just died on arrival. You all do exactly what he says and don’t utter a peep until he says bark. Throughout the early hours of the rehearsal, it was evident that he wanted to be here the least out of any of you which was something that as much as he made your skin crawl, you had to respect. No one likes work already but you could understand how the brand you had was so softcore in comparison to what he was used to, the whole choreograph just looked like a bunch of pillows flopping around on stage to him.

Your understanding should not be confused with sympathy however, simply put knowing how your bosses think is rule #1 when it comes to maintaining a proper work/life balance, and in this case it would be minimizing the amount of halts and rechoreographing out of nitpicks. So, while your brand was one that strayed away from deviance and sex to keep the illusion of ownership, being a bit more risqué than your typical sets here and there wasn’t a crime and would give Val more to look at even if only teasingly.

“No! No! NO THIS IS ALL FUCKING WRONG!!” Yeah who the fuck were you kidding, if you all weren’t having an orgy this jack off was never going to be pleased.

“Did you all learn how to dance in a fucking church?! Are you all such angel cunt lickers that you can’t handle presenting any TNA is that it?!”

Yeah… This was going to be a long work day…

TAGLIST﹕@hurtworld401 @feral-ratatattat-king

[wynnyfryd]

🐳 howdy ✨

Hello there, lovely. Welcome to my blog. If you’re here I assume you’re also a deranged little doofus, and I love that about you. The brainrot gripped me and never let go, so this is primarily a steddie blog (and occasionally a personal one when I remember to check my asks.)

Steddie fic masterlist below. I also post a ton of drabbles and shorter stories on my blog, and if you want more content you can check out the monthly writing challenge I created and run with @steddieas-shegoes at @steddiemicrofic <3

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in progress

i don't know, you figure it out (trailer park steve au)

rated E | posting to tumblr in daily parts under #trailer park steve au, which will be added to ao3 as chapters are completed

ch. 1: part 1-5, ao3

ch. 2: part 6-8, ao3

ch. 3: part 9-12, ao3

ch. 4: part 13-18, ao3

ch. 5: part 19-22, ao3

ch. 6: part 23-27, ao3 | artwork by @inklessletter

bonus scene: stobin hangover brunch

ch. 7: part 28-32, ao3 | artwork by @foxprism

ch. 8: part 33-36, ao3

ch. 9: part 37-40, ao3

ch. 10: part 41-47, ao3

ch. 11: part 48-53, ao3

ch. 12: part 54-55, ao3

ch. 13: part 56-60, ao3

ch. 14: part 61-64, ao3

ch. 15: part 65 | 66 | 67 | 68 | ao3

In which the Munsons get new neighbors, but instead of the Mayfields it’s the former King Steve and his recently widowed mom.

manic goblic dream boy

13.2k | not rated | 28/? chapters | ao3

this is where I archive all my tumblr drabbles when I remember to actually do that. each chapter is a standalone piece

completed fics

game, set, match

2.2k | E | good boy eddie munson pwp, written for @subeddieweek day 4 | ao3

baby it's cold outside (but it's real warm in your mouth)

9k | E | enemies to smothered, written with @griefabyss69 for @subeddieweek day 3 | ao3 | artwork by @donttellunclesam

Steve and Eddie get snowed in.

biting you biting you biting you- oh! kissing you!

2.5k | M | platonically non-platonic stobin crack with a dash of pre-relationship steddie | ao3

Get blackout drunk and French your friends: the musical.

it was love, love alone

2.5k | E | silly sweaty steddie sex | ao3 | podfic by @reena-jenkins

Steve and Eddie get freaky on the Hellfire throne.

nine of diamonds

1.1k | T | crack-fluff written while my train was delayed | ao3

a kinda-sorta-not-really Eddie POV sequel to ‘is this your card?’

Satanic Ritual: DO NOT WATCH!!

5.8k | E | weirdly sentimental slut time based on this art by @inklessletter | ao3

Chicago 1994: Steve and Eddie move in together, then they watch a film.

yoga dom steve series

33.3k | E | dom steve x sub eddie kink exploration series | ao3

Eddie’s ADHD as hell and Steve’s a hot stretchy boi who’s gonna box breath the brain bees into submission. or something.

relax (lay it back): 12k | E | ao3 | cowritten with @gorgeousgreymatter-x for @flintandfuss’s birthday

relax (that’s that): 2.6k | E | ao3

a masterpiece of art, it’s true: 3.3k | M | ao3

i know it’s hard to do: 9k | E | ao3

blue dream: 6.3k | E | ao3

your kiss is on my list

2.3k | T | fluff, getting together | ao3

Steddie Week 2023, day 3: discover | first kiss | ‘kiss on my list’ by hall & oates

is this your card?

4.5k | T | hellhonk origins | ao3

Steve, Robin, and Eddie kill time in a bar.

damn right, you do

2.7k | T | prompt fill for @mcneen | ao3

Steve could use a hug. Fortunately Eddie's a great hugger.

Monsoon Season

6.1k | E | crack prompt author AU | ao3

Beloved children's author Eddie Munson, meet notoriously petty smut writer Steve Harrington.

TITS! Magazine

11.9k | E | art student Eddie x model Steve AU | ao3

Eddie finds a magazine, then he finds a man.

No Son of Mine

4.5k | M | angst, hurt-comfort | ao3 | podfic by wildishly

Steve shows up at Eddie's door with a handprint on his cheek and his heart on his sleeve.

i’ll stop the world and freeze with you

634 words | G | meet-cute AU drabble | ao3

Eddie promised he’d take Max ice skating, only he doesn’t actually have a single solitary fucking clue what he’s doing. Good thing there’s a very helpful Hot Guy who can assist.

The Great Scavenger Hunt of 1986

7.9k | T | heart-warming Christmas fluff | ao3 | listen to the podfic

In 1985, Little Debbie releases their new Christmas tree snack cakes. In 1986, Robin gets the flu, and Steve sets out to cheer her up with festive treats. It's easier said than done.

(My one and only completed attempt at podfic, godDAMN how do y’all finish these editing projects?) written for Hellfire Christmas 2022

patience is a virtue

1.7k | E | self-indulgent pwp | ao3

Being patient sucks. Literally.

hayrides and late harvests

651 words | M | pre-smut drabble | ao3

day 5, prompt #31: “Let me help you. I’m begging you to let me help you.”

Bobbing for Apples at the Bottom of Lover’s Lake

1.9k | M | getting together, mopey steve x vampire eddie | ao3

Steve goes missing at the Halloween house party; Eddie tracks him down.

Steve H. Who Works in Accounting

2.9k | E | pwp that made me laugh | ao3

Robin’s in pain. Steve’s bisexuality isn’t helping. (or: Steve gets embarrassed and apparently he’s kinda into that.)

microfics

@steddiemicrofic prompt fills

paint it black 🎂🖤🎂

290 words | M | bonus round ‘birthday’ to celebrate @steddieas-shegoes | ao3

Steve bakes Eddie a birthday cake.

make me

388 words | E | March prompt ‘pin’ | ao3

“Eat a dick, Munson.” “Make me.”

Plot Holes

404 words | T | January prompt ‘hole’ | tumblr | ao3

the gates are open and time’s all fucked

🎵 Troll Toll 🎵

404 words | M | January prompt ‘hole’ | tumblr | ao3

three fandoms converged in a future wood, and I— I regret that I wrote this

the kind of charm we need

548 words | G | September prompt ‘charm’ | ao3

Nancy doesn’t appreciate him, but someone else might.

at the bottom you’ll find all our friends

442 words | M | MCD/angst | July prompt ‘pool’ | ao3

The trouble is, Eddie doesn't stay dead.

discontinued fics

note: fics in this section are NOT complete and will very likely stay that way. read them, write your own version, print em out and eat em if you like but so HELP ME if you ask when the next chapter is coming i’ll end u thank you 😘

stupid fucking star stuff

3.4k | M | stardust AU | ao3

Steve’s a star and Eddie’s in love with a guitar.

babysitters and book signings

4.2k | G | famous author Eddie x just-some-guy Steve | ao3

Steve takes the kids to a convention to meet their favorite fantasy author, one critically-acclaimed and unfairly attractive Eddie Munson.

[gortash-did-nothing-wrong]

Blood Of My Blood Ch 1

Content Warning: canon untypical violence, child abuse, Enver Gortash will do literally anything but go to therapy.

Rewritten from the original

Enver gets out of hell. He drifts around Baldur's Gate for awhile, avoiding his parents' area. He gets involved with the Zhentarim, officially joins the Cult of Bane, and starts gaining a name for himself. He beds a few noble men and women, makes some money, and gains a minor lordship. He starts working with the Cult of Bhaal, deeeefinitley doesn't fall in a weird fucked up version of love with a certain Bhaalspawn.

The plan for the Brain and the Crown of Karsus kicks off. He begins slowly and subtly implanting the tadpoles into people. A few nobles, some key players in Baldur's Gate. He goes to enact the one act of vengeance that would maybe heal his inner child. Tadpoling his parents. Making them love him. Forcing them to shout his praises.

He's planned this for so long. He walks to the front door of the shop, tadpoles in a small jar in his pocket. The business day is over, most shops are closed including his parents'. He wants it that way. He wants to make sure there are no witnesses, no distractions from his sweet vengeance.

He opens the door, and hears an unfamiliar voice call out, "Be with you in a moment!”

He's standing in the middle of the cobbler shop that his parents still run, noticing with distaste that it's no different than when he left. Selling him didn't buy their way out of poverty it seems.

Footsteps bang on the stairs, and Enver turns, expecting to see his mother or father. Maybe both.

Instead, it's a girl. A thin, pale, malnourished looking girl that couldn't be older than fifteen. Her features are a bit softer than his, to be sure, but he can see himself in her. In her black hair, though hers is unwashed and greasy. In the color of her eyes, though one of her eyes is framed by a large bruise. The final punch to the gut that cements to him exactly who this girl is to him is her shirt. An old threadbare tunic with more patches than is acceptable. Not that he considers any patched clothing to be acceptable these days. The tunic is a bit paler than when he wore it, the blue had definitely faded over time. But it's his. One of his old shirts. Her trousers might be his old ones too, he can't be sure. A teenage girl stands in his parents house, wearing his old clothes, sporting bruises on her face and forearms that are devastatingly familiar. It's her left eye that's bruised. The same eye he almost always had blackened. His father was right handed, and always aimed for that eye.

This girl is his sister.

Her voice cuts through the tense air. "Shops closed for the day, but I can take your measurements if you're looking for something custom.”

Enver shakes his head, trying to think about this new development as his hand tightens on his cane. "Where are the owners?”

"My folks are out running an errand. They'll be back within the hour, but trust me, I can handle most orders." She said, walking towards the counter.

This wasn't the plan. She's a third person, a witness. He only has two tadpoles on him, and he's not even sure he wants to infect her with one. She's of no use to him as a pawn, and... Subjecting her to his vengeance feels wrong. Not morally wrong, he doesn't concern himself with that anymore. But wrong in a way that doesn't suit him. His sister is clearly subjected to the same abuse he had been, the beatings, the hunger, the poverty. The idea of forcing a tadpole into her eye doesn't make him feel any satisfaction.

"Sir?" She presses. "Did you want a pair of shoes?”

Enver glances at the shelves, sporting his father's shitty craftsmanship. He was almost always too drunk to make a glass of water let alone a pair of boots. "No.”

She looks confused for a moment, before looking him over once more. She takes in his clothing, the scent of his cologne, the diamond ring on his finger. "If you're the new landlord, we haven't got rent. We'll get us by the-”

"End of the week." Enver finishes. It's the same lie his parents told their landlord over and over. What rent they did pay was little and far between. "I'm sure.”

The girl shifts uncomfortably, glancing away from him a few times, and beneath the counter to where he knows his mother kept the emergency dagger. She shifts nervously under his calculating gaze, fiddling with the hem of his- her shirt. The reminder of their shared poison lineage weighs on him.

Decisions, decisions. None of which he wants to make without gathering a little more information.

“I've changed my mind.” Enver says suddenly. “I could use a new pair of boots. Custom.”

Her wariness goes away, replaced with a bit of excitement. He doubts it's for actually making the shoes, but rather the chance to make money. More money meant food, and she looked half starved already. “Sure, I can get your measurements started!”

She gestures to the corner, and he doesn't even have to look to know what was there. It was the only nice chair in the entire house, with deep red cushions and polished copper plating on the top and arm rests. He had never been allowed to sit in the chair as a child, and his parents hadn't either. That chair was for customers, and really only customers who looked wealthy. And decently clean. He can recall being forced to dust the gaudy thing twice a day as a child, a mind numbing chore that he hated. His mother acted like that damned chair was her prized possession, and it probably was. It was easily the most expensive thing in the house.

Enver doesn't even hesitate. He sits in the chair, letting his cane hang off the side. Fuck it, it's not even that comfortable. Better than the wooden stools his family sat on upstairs, but he's got a nice estate in the upper city filled with furniture much nicer. If someone gifted him this chair, he'd have one of his stable boys chop it into firewood, then smelt the copper fixtures down into scrap ingots to use later.

The girl is busying herself behind the counter, eventually walking over with a tool box and a notepad. She sits on a small stool in front of him, and glances down at his boots. They're a bit worn, he'll admit. A comfortable pair of brown leather working boots. Excellent quality, but he's had them for a few years. Perfect for tinkering in his workshop or walking around the city when he wants to blend in.

She unlaces them, running a finger over the edge of his soles. “A bit thin, but good craftsmanship. Is this your preferred style?”

He leans back in the chair as she removes his shoes and socks. “For work, yes. For my day to day needs I prefer something a bit more elegant.” He nods his head pointedly to the shelves of cheap boots. “Is that all your father can make?”

“Not at all!” She says quickly, swiping a cloth over his bare feet to remove sweat and lint. “These are just what we keep out for our lower city customers. If we left the nicer products on display we'd get robbed.”

He grunts, “I imagine. Especially when they leave you alone to go on, what was it again?”

“An errand.” She said quickly, bringing out a measuring tape and beginning her task. “They'll be back very soon.”

He glanced at his watch. Most stores had been closed for over two hours. “Of course.”

She measures his foot from heel to his longest toe, then measures the width at the heel, arch, and the widest part of his met. She writes each measurement down on her notepad, checking his opposite foot to make sure it matches. Then she has him put his feet flat on the floor, checking his arches. “You have quite high arches. Do you ever experience pain after wearing shoes for long periods?”

“No.” He says. “I make sure my shoes have a padded arch area to fit me.”

She writes that down in her notepad. “Excellent, I'll make sure we do the same. What sort of shoe were you hoping to order?”

He needs a reason to stick around. A good reason. “I find myself needing a new wardrobe to fit my station. I'll need several new pairs, work boots, dress shoes, slippers, all kinds.”

He can practically hear the coins clinking in her brain. Yet, there's a flash of something untrusting in her eyes. He did initially say he didn't want any shoes and now he's ordering a half dozen. But she says nothing on her suspicion, instead holding up an old tattered magazine of different styles and asks him to tell her which he prefers. He lists a few, not really paying attention. The next hour is filled with her writing down all his decisions, showing him various scraps of leather all dyed different colors, different metal ornaments for dress boots, embroidery options for slippers and dress shoes, and upcharges him at every opportunity. He finds her salesmanship a bit eager, but he doesn't expect anything different from a Lower City child. He can remember running around the markets and pulling schemes and tricks to get enough pocket money for bread. And trying to use his childish face at the time to convince customers to pay a little more in his father's shop. Not that his black eyes ever wrung out much sympathy from people.

After all the conversation, he gets her relaxed enough to divulge some things. “Shouldn't you be in school at this hour?”

“Oh I dropped out a few years ago.” She says simply. “I learned to read, write, and enough math to get by as a merchant. So now I stay home, learn the cobblers trade, and keep things running smoothly.”

He's not surprised. Most lower city children don't complete their education. It was impossible to focus on algebra when your gut was eating itself due to malnutrition. His own education was cut off for very different reasons.

“So, you're quite passionate about cobbling then?” He prods.

“Eh, it's a trade.” She says, tidying up her box of tools. “And everyone needs shoes. Can't beat a stable trade, I suppose.”

He nods, “True enough. Tell me, if money was no concern, what would you do career wise?”

She hesitates, only briefly. “I'd go study down the street at Lorroakan's Tower. Have you seen the magic shows his apprentices put on? One of them summoned a cat made of fire!”

“Projected.” He corrects.

“Huh?”

“Summoning only works with creatures that are real. The fire cat is an illusion projected by the apprentice for showmanship.” Enver explains.

She cocks her head to the side, “Can you do magic? Are you a wizard?”

“Yes, and no.” He answers cheekily. He holds up his hand, says a quick few words, and four lights flicker from his palm. They dance around the room, moving shadows and swirling around his sister's head.

She spins around, looking more childish than she should at her age. She reached out and touched the light, giggling a bit. “Whoa! Not as cool as a fire cat, but I'd probably use this way more often.”

She turns back to him, slipping his socks back on and then his boots. He had always hated doing this part of the job when he was his father's apprentice. The act of taking someone's shoes on and off always felt submissive in a way that irked him. He can see the same hesitation in the movements of her hands, the same thinly veiled distaste in her eyes.

She's more like him than he had expected. Good. Good. It makes what will come next easier.

She puts her father's box of tools on the counter, taking the notepad full of his order requests. "What did you say your name was? For the order?”

He stands from the chair, walking to the counter. "Enver.”

Something clicks in her eyes, a recognition, a flame of a memory. "Enver?”

"You know me?" He asks, his arms crossed as he regards her with amusement. His cane dangles from his elbow, swaying back and forth.

"Well of course!" She said happily, a grin revealing unwashed teeth. "Mum said you'd be back one day!”

"From?" He presses.

"School?" She says confused, her smile quickly dropping. "She said..." Her joy is quickly fading, realizing from his grimace that their mother had lied to her. "She said that you left to study magic in Waterdeep.”

Enver barks out a laugh, "Ah, yes, she can tell a wonderful story, can't she?”

The look of betrayal and sorrow on her face nearly makes him want to gag. He's sure it's the same one he had when he found out he was being sold. The weight of the tadpole jar in his pocket reminds himself of the plan, and he looks her over once more, contemplating his options. She was small, he'd have no problem knocking her out without magic. Probably wouldn't need a weapon either. He could just knock her out with a punch or two, carry her upstairs, and leave her there. He'd tadpole his parents once they got home, and the girl might not even notice her parents acting differently. Except for the lack of beatings, that was something Enver would be sure to put an end to via the tadpoles.

Or... He could just kill her. It would be just as easy to do, and leave one less loose end. The girl, if she had a shred of his intellect in that battered skull, would notice something was different with their parents. She might go sticking her nose where it didn't belong, complicating his plans.

She fiddles with the hem of her tunic, the same one he wore as a boy. The tunic they've both slept in, worked in, been beaten in.

Fuck. Fine. She wins.

She can live.

But she can't stay here.

Thankfully, the door to the shop finally opens. His father stumbles in first, a dark bottle clutched in his fist. Of course. His child is hungry at home but Dravo’s own vices always came first. Sally is behind him, and her eyes meet Enver's first. There's a flicker there, a wonder, a question. The flicker sparks recognition, and he knows his mother still recognizes his face. Even after all these years. How sweet.

Dravo eyes him, “Evening sir, sorry if you've been waiting long. We had a few errands to run.”

He goes behind the counter and Enver doesn't miss how his sister keeps some distance between them.

“No worries, your apprentice here had everything handled.” Enver says, nodding to the girl who looks between the two of them, confusion and uncertainty in her eyes.

Draco snorts, before putting his hand on his daughter's shoulder and giving her a shove. “Get upstairs, help your mother with dinner.”

When she rushes to her mother's side, Sally merely hands her the bag of groceries. “Take these upstairs. Wait there.”

The girl hesitated, trying to lock eyes with her mother but only getting waved off by the old woman. She spares him a nervous glance before she hurries up the stairs, out of earshot.

Sally wastes no time. “Enver, what are you doing here?”

Draco stares at Sally, then Enver, looking back and forth between the two of them. His confusion is every bit as infuriating as his rage is. The man was a bitter fool and always had been.

“What's wrong, Mother?” Enver says, his voice cold and mocking. “Can a man not come visit his dear parents?”

She looks pointedly at his clothes, finer than anything she's ever worn. His figure, fuller than hers and hinting at good food and plenty of it. “You've done well for yourself. That warlock wasn't lying when he said you'd be taken care of.”

Enver laughs, dry and humorlessly. “You still believe, after all these years, that was a warlock? Gods, I can't believe either of you idiots spawned me.”

Dravo walks around the counter, his hands balling into fists. Of course the idiot would go to violence first, that's all he knows. Enver is no cowering child, though. He's above Dravo's weight class now. The punch Enver throws is full of an entire childhood's worth of righteous fury and his father is too drunk to block it. Driving his fist, hardened by years of work as anvils, forges, and workbenches in the soft jaw of an alcoholic felt like a reward he had been waiting for since he was a boy, begging his parents for food only to have liquor bottles thrown at him.

He lets his father crumble to the floor, a sprawling body of filth and self pity that deserves nothing more.

He turns to his mother who, to his curiosity, hadn't raised the alarm. No shouting, not even a gasp. She looks at him warily. “Don't come at me holding a grudge, Enver. You want to strike your father for all his misdeeds, fine. I never raised a hand to you, and everything I did was for your own good-”

He lurches forward, pinning her against the wall and covering her mouth. His voice is all acid and bile as he speaks. “I'm not sure what gave you the idea that selling me to a devil was good for me.” His hand goes to his pocket, pulling out the jar of tadpoles and dangling one in front of her face. She's struggling, of course she is, but she's old and he's not. She's weak and he's strong. She's starved and he's been eating like a king. “Honestly, I've been wanting to know what made you think that for years. Let me finally indulge that fantasy.”

He lets the tadpole slide in slowly, wanting it to hurt her. She thrashes, tries to scream, to claw at his hand. It doesn't help her. When she finally goes limp, he drops her and moves to his father. He kicks the unconscious man in the side, drops a tadpole onto his face, and watches dispassionately as it slithers into his eye. A flash of his power, a spark of his nether stone, and the two are given their orders. He hollows out his father's mind like a child carving out a pumpkin, leaving nothing but a puppet of flesh. His mother, he leaves trapped in her own mind, stewing in her anger and grief. That's where she'll stay until the day he allows her to die.

His revenge settled, he calmly walks up the stairs to find his sister. The room is empty, his sister nowhere to be seen. He's not surprised, despite the whole ordeal being relatively brief and quiet there's no doubt she heard at least some of it.

He strolls into his childhood home leisurely, plucking an apple from the counter that must have been from the meager sum of groceries his mother had managed to bring home. His cane is in his other hand, supporting his weight as he takes a generous bite from the fruit.

“There is no back door.” He says casually. “The windows are boarded up. I know you're still here.”

He waits, listening closely. Silence.

He takes another bite. “Sorry to startle you with the commotion downstairs, I hadn't really planned on you being here, you see. I wasn't quite sure how I'd handle it with you present. Luckily, our darling mother took care of that for the most part.”

He glanced around. There's so few places she could hide. She wouldn't fit under his parents bed, that's for sure. The chest was always full of clutter so that left… the wardrobe.

He tosses the apple over his shoulder, letting it clatter loudly onto the dirty dishes in the sink. There. A creak from the old water damaged wardrobe. He doesn't bother softening his footsteps and cane as he walks closer. Some fear would do the girl good.

He opens the doors to the wardrobe to see her curled up inside, trembling. “Please.” Her voice is but a whisper.

He clicks his tongue at her, “Groveling is unbecoming of you. Come now, out of the furniture. You'll reek of mothballs.”

She slowly climbs out, staring up at him. She's debating making a run for it, he knows. “Come, let's go downstairs and say goodbye, yes?”

She follows him, if only to get closer to the door to freedom. When she sees her parents standing downstairs, tidying up the shop for the day. She probably had assumed they were dead, and he can't blame her for that assumption. His father's face is already darkening and swelling where Enver punched him, and her eyes are drawn to that even as her father smiles.

Her mother steps forward, patting her shoulder, “You take care now, dearie. Listen to your brother and stay outta trouble.”

Dravo waves, his smile as hollow as his heart always was, “Take care.”

Enver puts his hand on his shoulder, “Let's be on our-”

She yanks back from him, her eyes wide and wild. She knows something is wrong. His parents' mannerisms have changed completely in less than half a minute and the girl is no fool. “Stop it!”

Sally still smiles, her hands going to her daughters shoulders. “Don't you fret, I'm sure you'll be back to visit.”

“What did you do to them?!” His sister shouts, shoving her mother's hands away.

Enver sighs, reaching into his bag and pulling out a sleep scroll. “I did try and make this easy.”

The girl is unconscious in his arms before she can say another word, and Enver carries her to the carriage he has waiting for him. His knee groans in pain, but he ignores it. Raising a teenager will be a long process with lots of little pains, he's sure.

[luvly-writer]

"XOXO"

Ch 8 She makes the whole place shimmer

-•-

Author’s note: Long chapter ahead! I worked so hard on this and Chapter 9 so please, you are invited to let me know your feedback! Hope you all enjoy!!<3

Warnings: creepy men

Taglist: @w31rdg1rl @mxtokko @loonymoonystuff @grandstrangerphantom @1lellykins

if you’d like to be added to the taglist; leave a comment below!

masterlist:

-•-

Y/n's leg kept bouncing as she sat in one of the rooms of the Gilded Hall. Her family had arrived early due to the fact that her mother and sisters were part of the organization committee. Yn was always in charge of the decorations and this year she had gone all out. The theme was red, gold, and green and it looked beautiful. She would have enjoyed her work even more if only her family hadn't invited Mr. Moris as well. The moment that he arrived, she had fled to one of the many vanity rooms of the hall. Still, in her white long furry coat, which she maintained to keep her beautiful dress hidden, she waited for Tim's text telling her that he had arrived. Finally, she hears the notification go off on her phone.

She sent Tim her location and soon, she heard him knock. She walked towards the door and let him in.

"Why are you still in your coat?" he asked taking a good look at her.

"I panicked and ran when I saw Mr. Morris making his way towards him. Plus I wanted to make a big reveal of my dress because no one else has seen it, " she said looking down and playing with her coat.

"Isn't that a bit dramatic?" he asked with an amused smirk.

"You dress up in a spandex suit and fight crime under the alias of a bird. Do YOU have room to judge?" she quips as she takes him in. Sleek black suit, grey vest and white dress shirt that fitted him just right. Sleek black pants with black shiny dress shoes as well. But that wasn't what caught her eyes the most...it was the very shiny, very glittery light blue tie he was wearing. She walks towards him and smiles.

"Your tie..." she whispers as she caresses it..

He looks down at her. Even with her heels, he was taller than her. "What about it?" he asked softly.

"It matches perfectly! My sisters are going to freak out. We will look perfect...AND AND IT SPARKLES TIM IT SPARKLES!" she smiled brightly and a part of Tim's heart wanted to keep that smile there forever.

"Yes it does, angel" he smiled.

"Let's go!" she took his hand and pulled him out. She led him around many different passages.

"How do you know this place so well?" he asked seeing as she finally reached one hall. He could see the entrance at the end of it and knew that she was going to defininitely going to make a big entrance.

"How does it look?" she asked and Tim finally turned to look at her. She had taken her coat off and was showing him her dress. True to her word her dress was light blue with a lot of sparkly diamonds. A true winter goddess. She was dazzling. She twirled in front of him and smiled.

"Breathtaking, angel. Doing justice to your name" he said with adoration in his eyes.

"What name?" She laughed and it really went straight through his heart.

"The ice queen" he answered, offering her his arm. "I still don't understand why that is your nickname seeing as of the three of you, you are the least that should be classified as a nightmare," he asked as you both began walking forward. Y/n stayed quiet, the dazzling smile she had on faltered a little. He was expecting one of her witty comebacks or another of her lovely eye rolls and yet he got silence and a sight frown.

“Sometimes you have to be a little bit cruel for people to take you seriously” she said looking down, “but that is not the topic tonight! Ready?”

she changed the subject, tugging his arm and smiling again.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” he said trying to move past that weird moment. He will store it in his head to investigate it later on.

Once they neared the entrance, the attention was on them. Paparazzi from everywhere were taking pictures and asking questions. Everyone wanted the latest insider on what was going on between two of the most prominent figures of Gotham. Y/n smiled and waved as she hugged Tim's arm tighter. Tim wanted to look at the camera but all he could do was admire her. They posed here and there, he smiled at them every once in a while, but his eyes would not leave Y/n. This made the crowd go even more wild.

Finally, they were beginning to get closer to the Vanderbilts. William Vanderbilt, Y/n's father, stood tall and imposing. He was known to be quite serious. Next to him was Franchesca Vanderbilt, Y/n's mother. It was obvious where Yn got her beauty from. Y/n had her eyes, fave structure, and hair. Not far from them were Aurora and Charlisse with their respective husbands. It is true what they say, there has never been an ordinary woman in the Vanderbilt family. They were all known for their remarkable abilities and breathtaking beauty. Not too far back, Mr. Morris was standing, sizing him up. Noticing this, Tim smirked and decided to pull Y/n closer, kissing her temple.

"Mother, father, sisters, what a lovely evening! I would love to present you all to Timothy, my boyfriend" Y/n said, showing him off proudly. She laid her head on his shoulder and hugged his arm smiling. His heart warmed at her affection, even though he knew it was for show.

"It is a pleasure to meet you all. Mr. Vanderbilt, it has been a while. Ladies, you all look dazzling." said Tim as he flashed his most charming smile.

Yn's sisters smiled at the pair and shook Tim's hand.

"The pleasure is all ours, Mr. Drake Wayne. Our sister seems to be completely smitten over you," said Aurora, smiling softly at how Tim turned to look at Y/n and wink at her, causing her to roll her eyes playfully. "Let us hope that this pairing does both of you good." she finished and left with her husband. Charlisse inspected him lightly and raised her eyebrow at him. "That's the baby of the family, Timothy, one wrong move and I will have every private investigator in a 5-mile radius on you and leave you with nothing." She said with a big smile.

"Ever the diplomatic, Char. Let's leave the threats for another day, please, we are in public" responded Y/n. Charlise raised her nose and walked away. That left them with her parents, who had not spoken a word the entire time. Franchesca tried to give him a warm smile and seemed welcoming. On the other hand, William speaks up. "I hope tonight's dinner helps us get to know you Timothy, we have been anxious to meet you," he said. Something about the way he said anxious gave Tim a bad feeling. Not only that, the way Y/n tightened her grip on him made him grow cautious. What had he stepped into?

-•-

So far the dinner had gone fairly well. They had been seated at the table and people were mingling amongst themselves. They were placed on a straight table. Yn had been seated between Tim and Mr. Morris. To his left, were sat Aurora and her husband. In front of them, from left to right, were seated Charlisse and her husband, William, and Franchesca. He sat directly in front of her father, and Y/n sat in front of her mother.

They had gotten through the first two courses when William spoke up. "So Timothy, is it true you actually dropped out of high school?" Francesca turned to look at her husband scoldingly. Before she could open her mouth and excuse her husband, Tim spoke up. "Yes, I decided to drop out when Bruce offered me the position of CEO, I wanted to focus on the business." William's face stayed stone cold. Charlisse decided to continue with the question, "How ethical is it to place a seventeen-year-old in the position of CEO?" Y/n glared at her, knowing that her sister was playing the same game as her father.

"Pretty ethical, I'd say. He had been teaching me the ways of the company when I had recently turned 17, and he gave it to me a few weeks before my 18th birthday; meaning that when the paperwork was finalized I was legally an adult." Tim responded taking a sip from his drink. Y/n held his hand on top of the table and squeezed it in reassurance. She had warned him of the targeting they would have done to him.

"Say, and how has that gone for you?" she asked, "Surely a kid can't possibly be apt to take over and not lead them to bankruptcy"

"I'll have you know that Tim's mind is brilliant, Charlisse. If you'd been informed, you would know that Wayne Enterprises has done nothing but flourish and grow ever since Tim became the head of the company." Y/n defended. This wasn't the first time they piled up against a boyfriend of hers. (well fake boyfriend in this situation, but they did not know that)

"Thank you, angel. And to answer your question, Bruce went a few months shadowing me so that if I had any problems or questions, he would be there to help. He made sure the transition was as smooth as possible. I am completely grateful for him trusting me with this opportunity and helping me along the way" he answered. Your mother awed at that and smiled.

"I find that difficult to believe," said Charlisse and was about to ask another question when Aurora spoke up, "Charlisse, that is enough. He is a guest at our party, don't forget your manners," she said. Y/n smiled at her gratefully.

"Francis, old friend, what did you say you did this weekend?" your father asked smirking at the old man. You felt your heart drop a little.

"I took a trip to the Met Museum in New York. I had the pleasure of purchasing one of the most lovely paintings I have ever encountered. Are you all familiar with the Le Saule Pleureur?" he said and looked directly at Y/n. Tim felt her stiffen at his words and looked at her questionally.

"I'm afraid that I am not aware of how that is possible. Le Saule Pleurer is not a painting that is on sale," said Y/n taking a big sip of her wine.

"But it is. Your father put a good price on it and now it is currently being sent to my home gallery." Mr. Morris said, sending a chilling smile towards Yn.

Yn felt her heart stop. She looked towards her father and he looked down to his food, unable to meet her eyes. She turned to her mother whose eyes were filled with pity. Yn could feel a knot in her throat. "How could you?" she asked softly.

Tim felt his heart shatter at her tone. He looked at the young girl and placed his arm around her. He had no idea what they were speaking about yet he didn't press much. He decided to observe the room around him. Aurora looked horrified at the news and turned to discuss it with her husband. Charlisse was watching her father and sister intently, waiting for the next move. Something about her reminded Tim of a snake willing to pounce. Then her mother, reached out to Y/n and tried to place her hand on top of hers but only received a cold look. Her father was watching Yn intently, waiting for her next move and Mr. Morris was smirking at the scene. Yn was about to say something but her father cut her off.

"It is just a painting, Y/n. Don't make a scene now." He said dryly, "Besides if you wish to see your precious painting, you know the answer to your problem is clear as day". Everyone caught his insinuation. Tim had deduced that it was something of great value to Yn and the only way she would be able to see it was if she married Mr. Morris. "Father...." Yn began, but wasn't able to finish because the debutantes were going to be presented.

For the rest of the meal, Y/n would only interact with him and Aurora. Mr. Morris would try to make advances to her and she would cuddle closer to Tim every time. Finally, the dinner was over. The debutants and guests were invited to take the floor. Tim took this opportunity to bring Y/n away and give her some space to breathe.

He wanted to ask but refrained from doing so in a very public setting. He could feel Yn was glad that he had not asked yet. A few dances later and Tim went to look for some refreshments, leaving Yn alone to wait for him.

"Miss Vanderbilt" she heard someone call her. She turned around and saw Mr. Morris nearing her. She looked around for Tim but she was too late, Mr. Morris had gotten a hold of her.

"You seem to be constantly avoiding me, Miss Vanderbilt," he said. She saw his eyes scanning her body up and down. She hugged herself trying to place a little coverage. "And that saddens me, my girl. I have been nothing but kind to you all these years and this is how you repay me. I have held nothing but admiration for you ever since your were a child" he smiled creepily.

"Ever since I was a child? What is that supposed to mean?" she asked disgusted.

"I have held adoration for you, your remarkable abilities, and your beauty ever since you were a young girl, my dear. Have you not ever noticed?"

"I have Mr. Morris, and I believe it is hardly appropriate," she said timidly.

"Please call me Francis"He insisted.

"I'd rather not," she remarked, which made the man grow frustrated.

"Miss Vanderbilt, I can assure you it is appropriate, you are 21 years of age. You are surely a legal and consulting adult, I have been waiting for-"

"Surely, waiting for a minor to become legal must be considered an act of pedophilia by some people, don't you think, Francis?" interrupted Tim. He had heard some of the conversation and was absolutely disgusted by it. He had to intervene. Mr. Moris glared at Tim and made a displeased sound. Tim gave Yn her glass and wrapped his arms around her waist. Feeling Tim hug her from behind, Yn relaxed into his body. She felt safe around him.

"I suggest you stay out of the matter at hand, Timothy." He said, straightening his back to try to be at eye level with Tim.

"That is Mister Drake Wayne to you, Francis.. and of course this concerns me. My girlfriend is being weirded out by the flirtations of a man twice her age who refuses to take the hints of her clear discomfort and notice the clear boundaries she has placed." He said tugging Yn behind him, creating a physical division between Mr, Moris and her.

"You are in no good authority to speak to me as such. I will have a conversation with your father about this, Miss Vanderbilt. This is an insult. You will face the repercussions, Miss Vanderb-" he was cut off by Tim

“I can assure you she will not. Go near her again and I will have my lawyers and my father's on call by sunrise. You are familiar with the expression 'a Wayne never loses a case' am I correct? I will have you know if anyone in my family catches word of this predatory behavior you can say goodbye to your public standing because we will make sure your reputation will be considered dead. Have I made myself clear?" Tim seethed. You had never seen this side of him and were taken aback.

"You can't do that" said a trembling Mr. Morris.

"Yes. I. Can." stated Tim coldly, "I have the money and the standing, so test me." Everybody knew the Wayne's name was Old Money, so standing he did have. He was going through with his word and everyone knew it. Finally, Mr. Morris backed up with an angry face. Tim took Yn's hand and let her out. She was too in shock of the situation to say anything.

-•-

[masterserris]

Submas Fic: "We Will Meet Again" CH.1

Hello! My friend @eusouomar (Ingo) and I (Emmet) have been working together on an rp timeline and thought to make it available here and on ao3! I will be making a master post later for this, but for now! Here it is! We have... uhh... a few hundred pages to edit and process and it isn't even close to being done yet.

This timeline is based on the concepts of Yin (Ingo) and Yang (Emmet) reincarnating through the ages, much to the surprise of the twins, and how to move forward knowing this and getting their lives back to normal after bringing Ingo home from Hisui. Shenanigans and fluff and angst ensue. Let it be known a happy ending is always the goal and the inevitable future. Enjoy!

Notes: NO SHIPPING in this fic.

General Warnings for the fic as a whole: strong language, depictions of mental illness, addiction, grief, violence/gore, character death, self harm, suicide mentions

Ingo hit the floor way too hard. The stone was cold and unforgiving and the wind was strong up here. Familiar. But that was soon replaced by the radiance of the sun on his back and a figure kneeling down to help him up. In the pure blue sky, when Ingo looked up he saw the tear filled eyes of his long beloved mirror image. His twin, Emmet.

Ingo shivered at the rush of ice in his veins. It took him a bit before he pushed himself up to a sitting position as someone bent down to help him. It was him! The man in white! Ingo had seen him in faint memories and dreams but here he was as clear as a photograph. "I...I know you." He told him. "You have my face."

“Yup! I sure do, Ingo! I am Emmet! Your twin! Don’t you remember?” He leaned in to embrace his dear brother and warmth flowed from his heart. His love, his joy, it was infectious. Never had his smile been this bright or this grateful to finally have his sibling back from beyond the expanses of time and space. He had finally done it! Take that, all you haters and deniers. Emmet never gave up and now everything was right in the world. Almost. “I suppose you did hit your head kinda hard when you landed, sorry Ingo.” He pulled back a bit to inspect his face and body. How old he had gotten! A beard! Tattered clothes! His pearl clan tunic! “It seems we have a lot to catch up on, yup!” He said sheepishly. 

Emmet. Being hugged by someone like he was precious made Ingo's heart swell. He had been so alone for so long. It was almost perfect. Still there was something wrong, deep inside of him. Something out of balance. "My twin." He repeated. How could he have forgotten? "You're my younger brother." He frowned, "But not that young. Something is wrong."

“Yeah, I’ll say! You’re old, Ingo! It’s only been 5 years, how come you look like you’re 60???” He pulled his hat off of his head and gasped. “AND YOU’RE BALD???” 

"Five??" Ingo asked shocked, "No, no. I arrived in Hisui thirty years ago." Ingo frowned at the removal of his hat. That was precious to him! "No! Return my possession at once!"

“30!!” He balked at that and handed back his hat, stunned into silence. T-there was no way! “H-hold on you mean you’re… no, no it can’t be!” He couldn’t be an old man already, he had just brought him back! He couldn’t lose him to the ravages of time again! “Dialga! Fix this mess, please!” Emmet tossed out a pokeball to summon the master of time. It gazed down at him with a calm demeanor. “Is.. is it true he has aged 30 years!? It can’t be! Please, Diagla, return his body to the same age as mine! I won’t lose my twin again! Not if we can help it!” The gem on its chest began to glow and Ingo felt the vigor of youth return to his body. He was 30 again. Right there with Emmet as a mirror image. His scars wouldn’t fade, but his hair grew back and his beard faded. “Muuuuch better! Thanks pal!” He beamed the god of time a bright smile and it huffed in amusement. 

Ingo put his hat back on with a huff. Really. "Lord Dialga!" Ingo knelt quickly in front of the pokemon. Did this mean that the Diamond clan was in the right all along? Was Dialga almighty Sinnoh? Then he felt his bones strengthen, his old stamina returning. Ingo was by no means a weak man at sixty, not when he was fighting for his survival and climbing cliffs but being back at thirty was a whole new feeling. And this man who claimed to be his twin spoke so familiarly to a literal god. Ingo remained kneeling.

Emmet stifled a laugh. He did his research and knew the Diamond and Pearl clans worshiped Palkia and Dialga, but to see it from his own brother was a little amusing. “It’s alright Ingo, Dialga is a friend.” He patted the pokemon’s shoulder lightly. “No need for that here. You are among friends. And here, this is actually for you.” He handed him a pokeball. Inside it was the lord of space, Palkia. He could feel it, the tug, the pull, the familiar essence that flowed through it. 

"For me." It was a modern pokeball, much different from the wooden ones he used. He could feel the pokemon inside of it, the strange pull that Ingo couldn't really describe. He got up to his feet still in his clan tunic and tattered clothes. "You said you were my brother?" He confirmed.

“Yuuup! I am Emmet! Emmet Kudari Gray! And you are Ingo! Ingo Nobori Gray! We are the Subway Bosses of Nimbasa City! Our uncle is Drayden Gray, gym leader of Opelucid City in Unova! Man, you must have a bad concussion to forget so much, maybe you should sit, it isn’t safe. Maybe we can ask Palkia to take us to a hospital and get you checked out.” He was a bit worried at these huge gaps in his brother’s memory and went to his side, his hand on his back gently. 

"Gray." He said reverently, "This whole time I never knew what my clan name was and it's Gray. Drayden, is he our clan leader then?" He asked Emmet. Ingo Nobori Gray. He finally had a last name and a middle name as well!

“Clan? Clan??? We don’t really use that word anymore, brother. We just say family. You are family.” He smiled and hugged him ruffling his hair as he did so like old times. “And I missed you so verrrrrry much! You’re my other half! It was impossible to live without you!” 

Ingo felt warmth bloom in his heart as Emmet ruffled his hair. It felt so familiar and comfortable. He really enjoyed being hugged as well. He was about to ask what a subway was when Emmet spoke again about missing him and...oh. That was right. Ingo remembered the hidden temple deep in the mountains and what he had found there. He was missing half of himself. Could Emmet be his other half? "Then...then you are Yang?" He asked him.

“Then I’m what?” He looked at his brother, puzzled. “What are you talking about? Oh dragons, we really should get you to the hospital. I hope your brain isn’t bleeding.” There was a worried expression to his smile as he plucked the pokeball out of Ingo’s hands to toss and reveal Palkia. “Hello friend! Uhm, I was wondering if you could please take us to Hearthome’s hospital! It seems he might have a bit of… brain damage…” 

Hmm, maybe not. Still after a hard landing like that perhaps he should see a doctor. Ingo gave a respectful bow to Palkia but for now would not give anyone any trouble.

Emmet smiled as Dialga returned to its pokeball and Palkia gently warped space to place them at the entrance of the hospital before also returning to its ball. Hearthome. A thriving city full of beauty and warmth at the foothills of Mount Coronet. Emmet took his hand and guided him inside to get checked in. Oh! He had to text Elesa that he had made it! This was great! She was asleep right now, but that was fine, she could find out in the morning. Emmet would remain by Ingo’s side the entire time, just glad to be with him. 

"So, let's start with what you do know." The doctor had told Ingo as he sat there, "What's your name?" "I am Warden Ingo of the Pearl Clan." Ooookay. The doctor wrote something down, "And how old are you?" "I think I'm..." Hmm, Dialga did take a few years off his age, "Thirty?" "You don't know?" "I don't know when my birthday is." Ingo confessed, "I like the summer season the best so that's when I celebrate but I think I'm around thirty years of age." "Huh, okay what do you do for work?" "I am the warden to Lady Sneasler." Oh yeah this was bad, "Any family?" "None that I recall." Ingo said not wanting to do this anymore. He was embarrassed by how little he remembered.

Emmet's smile was strained. He had told the doctor they were brothers, their names, their ages, it was all over the news after all these years about Ingo disappearing. Even here in Sinnoh, a simple web search would tell them all they needed to know. This was definitely Ingo Gray. And it hurt to know he had lost it all. Every last memory, gone. He said nothing, he didn’t want to interfere with the doctor’s work and influence Ingo’s answers. 

It wasn't to fill out paper work. It was to see how much of Ingo's memory was intact and the answer was not a lot. "Okay, we're going to let you rest a bit and I'm going to talk to your brother." The doctor told him kindly before taking Emmet to the hall.

Emmet gave Ingo a glance and a nod. “I’ll be back! Just rest please!” As he closed the door behind them he sighed sadly, already knowing how badly this was going. “Give it to me straight, doc.” 

"We're going to need to run some imaging tests. See if this is brain damage or a traumatic event. Does your brother or family have any history of neurological disorders?" The doctor asked.

“Nnnnot that I know of!” He thought about it some more. “Welllll… it is generations removed, but we are technically related to the Mad Liberator of old Unova. No one knew what was wrong with him, but he definitely wasn’t all there,” he said sheepishly, scratching the back of his head as the old portrait in the museum came to mind. He looked a lot like him. Both brothers did. 

"Okay well there's two possible options. If there is damage to his brain this might be a permanent condition. If it's an organic rather from trauma it will begin to worsen. If there is no damage to his brain this may be a psychological blocking than a medical problem which means that some of his memory may begin to return." The doctor told him giving it to him straight, "We can begin to do some memory training in that case. Has your brother been through any traumatic events?"

Emmet nodded numbly at his words; the truth of the matter stung him. “Well, you see it is a reaaaaaallly long story, but you know the myths about Palkia and Dialga? They are true. Ingo was lost in Sinnoh’s ancient past, about 200 years ago when it was still called Hisui. That’s why he’s wearing the Pearl clan tunic and talking about being a warden and all. Because he was.” He pulled out his phone and opened the article he had bookmarked. From a history book. And there Ingo was next to the rest of the Pearl clan. 

“I rescued him from the past with the help of Dialga and some friends. It might have scrambled his brain, but he seemed to remember some things when I spoke to him. I believe his memories are in there somewhere, I have to believe. I won’t give up on him. We can make him well again!” There was a determined look in his eyes as his aura flared to life. Burning bright, he would not give in, not when he had finally found his twin after everything they both had been through. 

It was a hard story to swallow but Emmet had the articles and facts to back him up. "Hmm, well we will still scan him just to be sure and maybe do a few cognitive tests. In the meantime I'll see about getting him a memory board. His memories may be still in there but he has trouble accessing them. You should talk to him about what he does remember, encourage him to recount his time in Sinnoh."

“Right right. And we have to get his death certificate revoked. I suppose I can do that when we go back to Unova, but in the meantime I don’t suppose you could get the ball rolling? With his blood work and fingerprints, that is. Birth and death certificates were a common thing at a hospital. But it wasn’t everyday one had to be revoked. He likely would have to take Ingo to the police station back home and do this again, but having extra verification couldn’t hurt! 

"We can do that after the tests." The doctor wanted to make sure that Ingo was okay first, "But after that we can begin his verification process yes. I'll be back a little later." He gave Emmet a nod and left him to his own devices.

Emmet sighed to collect himself, prepping his mask again and smiled. “Everybody smile!” He said to himself quietly before opening the door and returning to Ingo’s side. 

“Hello brother! They are just going to do a few more tests to make sure you are healthy! And see if your noggin’ is alright!” He patted Ingo’s head lightly with his gloved hand. “Some scans, some blood tests, some fingerprints, nothing too scary, right?” Emmet pulled up a chair to sit at his bedside and gave him a reassuring smile. 

“I suppose you are wondering how I even got you here aren’t you? It’s a long story, but I can keep it brief.” 

Perhaps it would be safe to let Emmet start talking. Maybe hearing him out would allow this to go smoother. "That thought did cross my mind." Ingo admitted, "How did you get me to the future? Was it with Master Dialga's help?"

“Well, yes and no! Let’s see, do you know this person?” Emmet pulled open his camera roll to show him the person who saved Hisui from disaster. The one who had calmed Palkia and Dialga at Spear Pillar and defeated Volo. 

“They come from our time and were sent back to Hisui not unlike how you were. After returning to the present and releasing the four creation pokemon, they knew they had to help you come home too. They took me to the museum and told me everything. It was… quite the shock! But with a little help, the Azure flute and some directions, it led me to Spear Pillar. I guess it used to be the Temple of Sinnoh back in the day. Anyways, they asked Dialga to send a message to itself across time. When I played the flute at the temple, there was this… glowing stair leading into the sky. Arceus was there. The creator. I… I have to admit, this part is a little surreal and hazy. I forget what exactly it said to me, but I knew it asked me what my greatest wish was. It was you, brother! They brought you back! And Dialga brought itself and Palkia here! Dialga would stay with me and Palkia will guard you! We will be safe now, no more worries, no more tears! I woke up on the ground at the temple with both of them standing over me. They are verrrrrry nice you know! Really patient too! I’m sure you’ll get along just fine! It was shortly after that you fell out of the portal, heh. I’m sorry about that. About how hard you must have hit the ground. Whoops.” Dialga in the past had made arrangements to help Ingo leave Hisui. Not that there was anyone left to remember that. Ingo’s memories were scattered from both trips, poor man. 

"That person!" Ingo said recognizing the photo, "Yes, I know them well. Battling them was helping me start to remember things. A partner who wielded flames, a man in white. 'I like winning more than anything'." He sighed looking up at Emmet, "But you...you're not who I'm looking for, are you?"

“You mean Chandelure?” He handed Ingo her pokeball. “She was your first pokemon, all the way to a little Litwick, and yes, that is me! I sure am a man in white and do verrrrrry much like winning more than anything, yup! All true! But… I’m a little confused by what you mean if I am the one you are looking for. I’m your twin, your other half! We have always gone together! Explain, please!”

"Chandelure...yes! I had a Chandelure! She was my ace pokemon! My oldest and main partner." Little bit little it was coming back to him. Emmet had been so kind to him already. He deserved an explanation. 

"When I was in Hisui I was..." Hmm, maybe he shouldn't unload too much on Emmet, "I was sick. Lady Sneasler found me in the snow and took me to a warm place to recover. It was a temple deep in the mountain devoted to the concept of Yin and Yang. I found I could activate the Yin part. It was something no one else could do. I think...I think I have something to do with Yin and if that is so then I should go and find Yang. Perhaps that person will have the answers to the questions I have."

“Oh!! That old story! Yes, I have heard of it before but!” He stared at Ingo with renewed curiosity. “You are the vessel of Yin??? No way! That’s so cool! Does that mean I’m…?” 

Yang? The thought finally crossed Emmet’s mind and it filled him with a flood of good and horrible feelings. It was like getting sucker punched. Not now! No hallucinations now please! He fought back his mind, seeing Ingo in front of him helped with that. 

“Maybe! One way to find out! Do you remember where this temple is?” He fished into his pocket. “They also say Yin and Yang have these with them, but truthfully, they are old family heirlooms! After the whole crisis with Team Plasma and all stealing them from the museum, heh.” Held the Light Stone and Dark Orb out to show him. “The white one is yours!” 

"It is said that Yin and Yang are born as twins." Here Ingo frowned, "It's also said that they're destined to fight one and kill one another....are you alright? You seem pale." He blinked at the the light stone, "This...I remember this is associated with Reshiram." He took it from Emmet and felt a sort of warmth from the stone.

“And the black one is Zekrom! Yes, that’s right Ingo! But I’m afraid you have the legends wrong! You see, our ancestor stopped the nasty cycle of hatred! The Mad Liberator was said to be a bearer of Yang and had restored balance to Yin by placing it in his proper vessel! That’s what his memoirs said, but everyone thought he was just crazy! Looking back, well, I think there is merit to his words!! Yin and Yang aren’t bad or good! They are just opposites! Time, heat, light, the sun, land, creation, destruction, all are Yang! And Yin is water, space, the cold, darkness, emotion, and life! Unova has lots of legends on those, yup! Read lots about it when I was looking for you! Didn’t have anything to do with us, though, I thought, but I guess I might have been wrong! Yin and Yang were a perfect duo until Yin broke away from Yang! That’s when everything went to shit and history gets fuzzy with the details. I dunno how much of all of that is true. There might be a book that really explains things, but I haven’t really looked.” 

"Hmmm." He thought on that some more, "Do you believe it? That I am Yin and that you are Yang?"

He shrugged. “It could be true. Lots of weird things have happened to us, yup! Stuff that you can’t really explain! I uh.. Sometimes see things and I take medication for it, but it makes me wonder if it's maaaaagic.” He waved his fingers in a silly manner before becoming serious again. “No, but I’m not sure. I’m certainly willing to find out! But first, you need your tests and your rest. You have to maintain your engines and do your safety checks. And Ingo? Smile!” 

There was something blooming, on the edge of familiarity. "You smile a lot, don't you?" He asked Emmet.

“Yup! Always smile for the passengers! You always had a resting bitch face, though, haha! It scared some folks, but really you are the heart of the subway! Everyone missed you soo much, yup!” He poked Ingo’s cheeks with both fingers to make him force a grin.

“But everyone loves you so much! And they love your smile too, even if it is rare! They will be overjoyed to see you. I know it.” Emmet nodded and gave him a truly warm and happy smile. “And if we are Yin and Yang, it doesn’t change a darned thing! You’re still my brother and we Subway Bosses are still a set! Always! Forever!” He cheered. 

That flashed another memory though not one of his life in Unova. "I was battling that person." He told Emmet, "I swore I would interact with all pokemon until I found the place where I belonged. Our face match, our coat, our hat." He felt Emmet stretch his cheeks and found himself chuckling regardless, "Emmet cut it out."

 Ingo doubted he would've been comfortable with anyone else from Hisui touching his face like that. "It had been so long. I thought my clan had given up on me or exiled me."

“Haha, nope! Just a little lost! But you are found again! And we will go home and everyone will smile again! Elesa and Drayden and Peters and Stefan and Megumi and Isabelle and Drayton and… Well! Everyone!” He removed his hands from his brother’s face and clapped them together in glee. 

“It has been verrrrrry rough without you, brother, but now things will be great! Even if we have to jog your memories slowly back together. It might even be a little fun doing all of our old hobbies together! I can’t wait to take you to the ballpark with Elesa! Or back home to uncle!” 

"My home station." He had one now and people who had missed him. Those were a lot of people and he would have to learn who they were or re-remember them. His brother seemed so happy to see him again.

 "I missed you, you know." He told Emmet, "Even when I barely remember you, didn't know your name, I missed you deeply."

His heart melted a bit at that. “Aww Ingo…” Emmet pulled him into a soft hug. 

“You know how much that means to me. After all these years for both of us. I’m so verrrrrry glad to have you back! I would do anything for you, anything. I mean it.” He pulled back to smile happily. “I love you lots, yup! A matching set! Do not separate ever!” 

He ruffled his brother’s hair playfully. “Oh and we will get you new clothes, you have spare coats and hats back home, don’t worry.”

There was a knock on the door by a nurse. "Mr. Gray? It's time for your tests." 

It took Ingo a moment to realize she was speaking to him. After some testing he was back in his room with Emmet. 

"Okay." The nurse told him, "I have here a memory board that you're going to help fill out with your brother." 

"A memory board?" Ingo asked. 

"Yes, it has some of the basic facts of your life to help reaffirm information and hopefully trigger old memories. Let's fill it out and then you can rest for the night." Ingo nodded and looked down at the board. 

"So...my name."

“Ingo Nobori Gray,” Emmet nodded. 

He would be slow, keeping it at Ingo’s pace when he was comfortable to move to the next topic. He was a supportive brother, always there for him. Always wanting to help Ingo’s ideas succeed. Make his dreams real. He sat there next to him, a faint warmth and love emanating from him. Comfort. Support. Love. Understanding. Patience. This was a place of healing.

His real name. He was still Ingo inside but now it had more to it. Ingo wrote it down in his messy handwriting. 

"Age and birthday." Ingo frowned, "I...I think I am thirty but," He turned to Emmet, "I can't remember when I was born." Well since they were twins when they were born. He had wondered for thirty years what day was his birthday.

“August 8th,” Emmet said softly. We are 30 years old.”

So he was born in the summer and he was 30! Sort of. A little not-smile graced his lips at as he wrote on the board. He didn't have any memories coming back yet but writing all of this down was a major comfort. Ingo was finally getting answers. "Where do I live?"

“We have a condo in Nimbasa City. In the Unova region.” Emmet smiled patiently. It was summer right now, they would have their birthday in a few weeks. He would make sure that it was a good one. One to truly remember.

"My occupation. You said I'm a subway boss? What is a subway?" Ingo asked.

Oh dear. 

"W-well, hmm.... how to put it. You know what a wagon, a carriage is, right? Well imagine a huge one of those, bigger and longer than this room and made of metal with seats in it. And imagine a bunch of them all linked together in a line. And they all go on a path made of metal tracks on metal wheels. It moves with the power of electricity to transport people and pokemon and cargo from place to place, usually underground. Hence 'sub' and 'way' for path. We are the bosses who run them in Unova! These tracks lead to all of the other cities, but the main station is in Nimbasa. Gear station." He hoped he didn't confuse him too badly.

Ingo listened patiently to Emmet's explanation and something flashed in his mind. He and another little boy playing with a train set watching it go around. In Hisui train fever had already gripped the Galar region. "Are you talking about a locomotive? We run an underground locomotive? I love locomotives!"

“Yes! Yes exactly!!” He clapped his hands together. “The best! Perfect! That’s the brother I know! We have always loved trains since we were kids! Heh, one of our autistic hyperfixations. That and pokemon battles.” Emmet was grinning ear to ear. 

"That's why I spoke so strangely! I'm a train conductor!" Ingo said. It was like all of the pieces were coming together. "I love battling. Winning. One cannot know what happens after winning until winning. Those words though...what do they mean? Autistic hyperfixation?"

“O-oh! Haha, it’s kind of a medical term. Some people are born and act differently. Their brains work differently. We are like that! It was hard for us to pick up on certain social cues and..” He trailed off. Explaining his life was hard, you sort of just had to experience it. 

“It doesn’t matter. There are a lot of people like us. We are just odd compared to others. And a hyperfixation is like a special interest. It’s something you just reeeeeallly like and can’t stop thinking about. A hobby, but deeper, something that really hooks its claws in your brain and heart and demands your attention. And it brings you joy! That’s trains for us!” He tried to keep it light. He wasn’t a medical professional either. He only had his own experiences to go off of.

"And pokemon battling!" Ingo agreed, "Or, at least it is for me." He looked down at the board and wrote down his occupation, "Next item says marital status. Am I married?"

“Nnnno? Not here in the present. Did you get busy in the past? Do I have to worry about your great grandchildren running around??” Emmet teased him, it was clear that he wasn’t in any relationships by the way he asked that. 

"No. None. I never had any interest." Okay that was simple. Single. Only two more to go! "Next is...family. Well I have a twin brother! Do we have any other family?"

“Well, technically not any immediate family. Our parents died when we were verrrrry young. Those memories are rather distant. But! Uncle Drayden took us in! And we have a lot of cousins! Drayshon, Aris, Drayton, Lily..” Wow, that was a long list. He just kept going, huh?

He felt tears begin to form in his eyes. After so many years of being alone. Not only did he have a brother but a large family? "Do you think they will like me?"

“Oh Ingo…” His heart broke for his brother.

 “They love you, adore you. They were so upset, inconsolable without you! You should have seen how mad they were when….” His smile fell for the first time and the words died in his throat. He swallowed heavily before shoving his mask back into place. 

“I mean, once we get you checked out here we can go home and facetime them! They will be elated! We have to get you checked out of here first, though.” Emmet smiled pleasantly. It was a good plan. Not too much rushing but neither was it procrastinating. 

"How mad they were when what?" Ingo asked. But then Emmet switched subjects. "It would be nice to see my family. I wish I knew what they looked like. Facetime?"

“Oh sorry, it’s a way to communicate. Like a phone call but with video.” He pulled out his phone. “You’ll see. Basically it lets people talk face to face across great distances. The wonders of modern technology, right?? Heh. In the meantime, I can show you some pictures!” He pulled up a family photo, naming everyone and pointing them out. 

The nurse gave them some time alone as this may take a while. Ingo's not-smile began to grow into a real smile as Emmet reintroduced him to family. His family who loved him! He leaned against Emmet's side. He wasn't kidding when he said they had a lot of cousins! He was going to have to make a family tree to remember who was related to who! How recent were some of the photos?

They were from before Ingo disappeared. Emmet didn’t really take photos after he was gone, though there was one of him and Elesa celebrating their birthday together. Emmet looked very tired in that one. Worn out. There were pictures of exhibits and legends related to Sinnoh, and landscape photos from his traveling the world to find his brother. 

He stopped at a picture of Emmet with a woman. Emmet didn't look anything like he did now. This Emmet looked exhausted and worn out. "You've gone to many museums. You look different."

“I had to do my research! Lots of interesting things to learn about old stories, yup!” He glanced back at his own picture and quickly looked away. He couldn’t stand seeing himself. 

“That was a long day, I was verrrrrry tired.” It wasn’t a lie, but it clearly wasn’t the whole truth. He was glad he didn’t have any other pictures of himself from these past few years.

Hmmm, well Ingo could always ask later. "Now one last question. My pokemon. This is easy! Alakazam, Tangrowth, Probopass, Machamp, Magnezone, Gliscor, and Chandelure."

“Hehe, more than that, brother!” He pulled out his belt to show Ingo his pokeballs. “Crustle, Garbordor, Klinklang, Haxorus, Excadrill and last but not least, your newest edition: Palkia! Lot’s of friends, yup! All good partners to have!”

His old friends. Ingo took the belt reverently. His old friends. He looked down at the completed memory board. It was only a snap shot but it was more than what he had started with. "Thank you." The former warden looked up at Emmet. "I couldn't have done this without you."

Emmet snorted and ruffled his brother’s gray hair, fluffing it up. “This is nothing, brother. You’ll see. We complete each other. Make up for when the other is feeling down. Share the workload and take care of our home. The Subway Bosses are a set! Do not separate!” He made and X with his forearms and smiled. “Now, you should eat dinner. And sleep. Hopefully tomorrow we will be set to go onto our next destination.” 

He chuckled at having his hair ruffled again. They would share a dinner and settle down for the night. Ingo slept deeply even though he was in a strange new world. How did Emmet sleep?

Emmet wanted to keep watch over Ingo, worried that if he closed his eyes he would disappear again. But eventually he nodded off in his seat at Ingo’s bedside, completely knocked out. His hat pulled down over his eyes and his breathing soft and steady.

Ingo slept soundly through the night and woke up when the sun shone through the window. He stretched his arms and back before slipping out of the bed to stretch his legs.

Emmet strolled back into the room a hot cup of coffee in his hand full of cream and sugar. He could drink it black like Ingo often did, but his sweet tooth demanded something nice. "Gooooooood morning Ingo!!"

"Good morning!" Ingo greeted Emmet. He was much more used to tea than coffee bit he did recognize the drink. He got up from off the floor.

“Doing some stretches I see? The hospital floor isn’t the cleanest place to be doing that, brother.” He took his seat and crossed his legs, checking to see if Elesa was up yet and had responded to his texts. Hm, not yet. Ah well! She must be verrrrrry busy.

 “Before we go home, I’d like to stop by the church and then if you want I’m sure we can find that old temple you were talking about. Then our home destination! How does that sound?”

What did cleanliness have to do with it? "That sounds like a good route. We should refuel with some breakfast after our discharge." He nodded getting up and dusting his hands off. Surely he would be discharged soon.

“I saw some muffins in the lobby,” he said, standing again to go with him, “Oran berry flavored! You know, we have a lot to catch up on! I traveled verrrrrry far to get here, I even went to Johto once to look for Celebi to bring you home! She, ah, took one look at me and fled. That was not fun, yup. But hard work brought us together again! So I am glad! No hard feelings!” His smile was as bright as the morning sun as he took a sip of his coffee, letting it warm his insides. 

Oran berry! Why did that mean something to him? Still, he followed him to the lobby once he had signed himself out. A magazine on a coffee table caught his attention. "Did Nimbasa City Subway Master Kill His Own Twin? The Chilling Truth Behind Ingo Gray's Disappearance." That was him! His name, his city. With a frown he opened it to read.

Emmet hummed as he signed the papers for Ingo at the front desk, glad to be free. It was a brand new day, a brand new future! “Well Ingo! Ready to go??” He turned to him with a smile. 

Ingo looked up from the magazine. "Emmet, what is this?"

“That’s a magazine! They print the news in…. It….” He read the title and his stomach dropped. He snatched a copy off the table and read it furiously, his hands bunching into tight fists as he crinkled the paper. 

“Um! Excuse me brother! I have to make a phone call! Please wait here!” He marched outside to call Elesa. He was furious beyond measure. The sunlight grew intense in its morning rays, beating down on the land. 

“THEY CAN’T PRINT THIS, IT’S ILLEGAL! ELESA, LOOK AT THIS! KILLING HIS OWN TWIN? AGAIN, AFTER 5 YEARS THEY KEEP BRINGING THIS UP! LOOK AT THE PHOTOS I SENT YOU, HE’S BACK! I AM SUING EVERY LAST ONE OF THESE ARC-DAMNED MOTHER FUCKERS! JUST YOU WAIT AND SEE!”

 He paced around so very angrily, wanting to pull his hair out. He threw this hat on the ground and kept marching back and forth with a purpose, his eyes like daggers. He never acted out in front of people, but up here alone in the alley way was a different story. Oh, there would be hell to pay for this. He would come back home with Ingo, happy and triumphant. Vindicated. Exonerated. And he would make their lives hell for what they put him through all these years. All the police questionings. All the interviews. He was sick to his stomach thinking about all of it. So sick he couldn’t eat right now or he might throw it back up. He needed a good while to calm down before he could go back inside. His pokeballs wobbled a bit on his belt in worry, but he ignored them. He needed to vent.

Ingo was going to ask but then Emmet was out the door. He wanted to follow but also didn't want to lose the good will of the one brother he had. After a bit Emmet would get a phone call from Elesa.

He should have known better than to bother her right now. He sighed and answered. “Hello Elesa, sorry for bothering you.”

"You're not bothering me and even if you were that's not important. You found Ingo! I just got your voice message though so I haven't listened to it yet. How is he??"

“The doctors here in Hearthome checked him out. He is healthy but his memory is gone, Elesa. He remembers only bits and pieces but! There is hope! He seems to remember more and more as we talk, yup! He even smiled! This will be great, you’ll see! I will call our family when we get back to Unova. We are going to make a few pit stops but we should be back in Nimbasa today! Isn’t it great!?” His smile returned as he thought about their happy reunion.

"Thank the dragons. So you were right about him being in the past?" Given everything that Emmet had gone through. All the whispers, the vandalism, the hospitalizations. Elesa imagined that if she was in Emmet's shoes she would be deliriously happy. "After you tell your family we should let the media know. Clear your name."

“I’m going to sue the ever living fuck out of them, don’t worry dear Elesa. Also… don’t listen to that voicemail. They printed a new article today and I’m still trying to cool off. I’ve been doing so verrrrry well I don’t want to slip backwards. I’ve been taking my meds and I slept last night for most of it!!” In recent months, especially after that trainer gave him the Azure flute he had been keeping his spirits up, his hope renewed. Yang was the essence of determination, it wouldn’t let him quit. “I hope I don’t scare him…” he said in a quiet tone, his peppy smile dropping a bit.

"Oh hun." She sighed. Elesa would probably listen to it anyway but it helped that Emmet sounded more in control. "Don't make the mistake of pushing him away either. He's your brother. He's going to love you no matter your past."

“Hah. Doubt. He… he doesn’t remember when Plasma attacked or knows about my incidents yet, Elesa. T-that I… that day…” The day he was stabbed. Subconsciously, he rubbed at his scar in his chest. “Elesa,” he whined sadly, which was uncommon even for her to hear. “What if he is disgusted by me? After everything?” 

"I don't see Ingo becoming disgusted at you." Her voice was gentle and patient with him, "Maybe disappointed, worried, or upset on your behalf but not rejecting you. Even if he did, and he won't, you still have your family. And me."

The thought of Ingo being disappointed in him made his gut twist and his heart sink. But Elesa said she would be there for him. He had to stay brave. Everybody smile! 

“I don’t know what I would do without you, Elesa. You’re my best friend, yup. Couldn’t ask for better. Thank you. We will take things one step at a time down these tracks until we arrive at the destination called joy. I’ll see you soon in Nimbasa, okay?” 

"Okay, call me when you two are back okay?" She asked him, "Take care of him, and yourself." 

Ingo now poked his head out of the door looking at Emmet, "I saved you an Oran berry muffin." He told him.

“Will do, yup! See you soon!!” He hung up and was putting his mask back into place, a brave smile for his brother! He turned to march inside when he saw Ingo there.

 “A-ah! Brother! Sorry, I had to make a call! I hope I didn’t make you wait too long!” Stop being so nervous, would you? 

"It's okay. I was worried." Ingo told frowning, "You're upset." Somehow even with his smile he could tell that Emmet was very upset. This smile was a mask as if to protect himself. "Are you okay?"

“Yes, I am fine, brother. These… ‘journalists’ as they call themselves should be ashamed of writing such slander, it pisses me off.” He would give him that truth as he slammed the crumpled magazine into the dumpster without a second thought. Emmet walked over to Ingo, relenting in his bad mood. “Sometimes even words can hurt. They have, at least.”

"Do you want a hug?" He asked opening his arms to offer him one. Emmet looked like he needed one.

His knee jerk reaction was to say no, but his heartache said yes. Emmet walked over letting his mask fade and he pulled his brother into a warm hug, letting his shoulders finally sag with how emotionally burnt out he was. It was good to have Ingo back.

 “Heh, sorry for being a mess, I should be the one helping and comforting you in this strange new world you are in. It was just hard, ya know? Those y-years without you.” Don’t cry. Emmet sighed and let it out, his pent up emotions.

 “I’m just so verrrrrrry glad to have you back, Ingo. I was losing my mind without you.” It was no exaggeration, either. “Just glad to be a set again.” 

Ingo's strong arms wrapped around his brother and held him tight. It was in his nature to rock while hugging not only to soothe the person being hugged but also to self soothe. 

"That doesn't mean I can't comfort you too. So am I. It...makes me feel…," He paused looking for the right word. Only one phrase came to mind and it not made sense given his newly discovered profession, "makes me feel like we're finally a two-car train."

“We are, brother, we are. Let’s not become decoupled again, okay?” He patted his back warmly. “Heh, we still need to get you a new coat, this one has seen better days for sure. Let’s get back on track, shall we?” 

"Mm." Ingo nodded letting him go. "My coat? I can't give it up. They told me so many times that I should but it helped me feel powerful and safe."

“Oh, we can keep it, brother. Maybe we can even put it in a glass case at the museum, but I mean from day to day. You can’t be a Subway Boss in rags, you’ll be out of uniform!” 

He did have a point. It was something to consider. He presented the muffin. "I saved this for you."

“Oh!!! Thank you!” He accepted it gratefully. “It would be foolish not to refuel. Now, are you ready to go to the church of Sinnoh?” 

"The church in Sinnoh? What is in the church?" He asked crossing over to Emmet's left side. Despite all these years it felt instinctual. 

“You’ll see! It’s sorta like a modern day temple!” He led the way,. It wasn’t terribly far from the hospital. He tried to eat the muffin as they went, but he struggled, relying on forcing it down. Soon, though, they arrived. It was tall and beautiful, stained glass capturing the morning light. The creation trio welcomed patrons in. Inside were rows of pews and an altar to Arceus. Behind the altar was stained glass of the creation of the world, a shining light above Mount Coronet. It was not unlike the fracture in the sky above the mountain in the days of Hisui.

 “I’m not… exactly religious, but I did pray before going up to the summit. I can’t help but return here to give my gratitude.” Emmet kept his voice low to not disturb anyone else. 

The trio, the altar, Mount Coronet. Much of the temple was beautiful and peaceful. Then there was a flash, a memory, of a dark being with white eyes. Then a long dark serpentine thing with red eyes glowing in the dark. Ingo gasped and paled.

Emmet noticed and put his warm gloved hand on Ingo’s shoulder instinctually to comfort him. “Are you alright?? What’s wrong?” 

"I thought I saw... I'm sorry, I thought I saw something." Ingo shook his head. He walked a little bit forward looking at all the gorgeous art here.  

Emmet gave him a smile and let his brother explore. He held much awe himself when he was here, though he had been alone at the time.

 It was deserted when he arrived in Sinnoh, when he made his prayer here. His voice was hushed at the time, no mask needed here. He kneeled in the front row of pews before the altar and laced his fingers together in solemn reverence.

 “I am Emmet. I admit I have never really done this before, but perhaps that should change. I have never directly asked for help before, though I am sure you have heard my cries all these years. Thank you for guiding me here, for having that person give me the Azure flute. I-I’m not really sure what it is for, but it feels important. I have to follow this feeling, guiding me to the summit. Ah, I’m rambling…”

 He was quiet for a moment and thumbed his recently received Arc necklace with the symbols of the creation trio on it. It oddly gave him peace. He usually wore it under his shirt away from prying eyes. Emmet then gazed up at the painted mural on the ceiling of Arceus.

 “I haven’t asked for much, but please. Please let me find Ingo at Spear Pillar. I will give you anything, everything. Even my very soul.”

 The memory faded from Emmet's mind and he went to kneel again. He wouldn’t speak out loud, but his gratitude would be palpable. “Thank you,” he murmured. He had encountered followers of Arceus before, usually a quiet bunch, but always welcoming. Not a cult going banging on doors, but always had their doors open to those in need. He felt weird around them, like they all looked at him funny. Like they were watching him. Then there were the Sons of Yang. They were nice too, but more vocal and pressing on their beliefs that the light of the world was the true path. It didn’t seem like a wrong point of view, but much to their chagrin he steered clear of those types. He had a brother to find, not get hooked into a cult of light. After taking his moment to give his thanks he would rise and rejoin Ingo.

Ingo followed him to a pew and knelt with him. He was quiet offering his own little prayer of gratitude but letting his brother pray in peace. After they were done he asked Emmet in the pew, "Should there be another member of the creation trio?"

“There is, but it’s a tough story. Much of it was erased. Giratina was a child of Arceus that was banished for something awful it did, or so it is said. It was violent. No one knows what actually happened. I feel kinda bad for it. They say it is exiled in another dimension. Must be lonely there.” Maybe it could be forgiven, in time. 

Ingo nodded. "Shall we begin our departure?" They needed to start to head out to find the temple.

“Yup! But uh… Any idea where this temple was? Do you think Palkia can find it?” 

"I think I can find my way back." Ingo replied, "We need to start heading to Mount Coronet first."

Emmet shrugged as they headed outside. He held Dialga’s pokeball and spoke to it. “Hey pal, could you fly us over to the temple of Yin and Yang? Ingo says he remembers where it is.” 

Ingo stood by his with his hands behind his back. Would the steel dragon happen to know where it was?

Much to the surprise of the pedestrians, Diagla lazily emerged, yawning. “Awww, sleepy head! The god of time doesn’t like getting up early??” Emmet teased it lightly and the dragon blew its hot breath at him in a sigh of amusement. Silly human. It loafed down so the twins could climb onto its back. Emmet scrambled up and offered his hand to Ingo. 

Ingo took his hand and climbed up on his back. Riding the dragon god of time; if only Drayden could see them now! He hung on to Emmet afraid of sliding off.

It was a little nerve wracking, Emmet had never done this before either, but it felt familiar. Like riding a bike after letting it sit for years collecting dust. Dialga rose to its feet and with a lunge forward leapt into the air with majesty. Emmet held on tight to the spikes running down Dialga’s neck as Hearthome shrank below them. The wind in their hair, he had to hold his hat down to keep it from getting blown off. The dragon angled towards the mountain. It in fact remembered when the temple was built long ago. Of course it knew where it was. The view was gorgeous. From here they could even see to Sunnyshore City and the marshes of Pastoria City where the Diamond clan once lived. Glittering lake Valor between the two cities, having recovered from being blown up by Team Galactic those years ago. They disappeared from view as Dialga flew over Solaceon town and towards Celestic town. 

It was all still here and yet irrevocably different. The land and mountains were the same but the cities were new. Tears started to form in Ingo's eyes again and there was a profound sense of loss in his heart. The world he once knew no longer existed. He had a memory of him and another young boy. Something had happened he couldn't quite remember what. Maybe they had lost a toy. 

An older girl held them both and sang softly to them, "Let's go in the garden You'll find something waiting right there where you left it lying upside down. When you finally find it, you'll see how it's faded the underside is lighter when you turn it around. Everything stays right where you left it. Everything stays but it still changes ever so slightly, daily and nightly. In little ways, when everything stays." Ingo rested his chin on Emmet's shoulder contemplating this. 

The dragon and Emmet quietly listened to the man sing and the three of them together felt that pang in their heart of loss. Poor Ingo, all of his friends in the past were now gone. It must have hurt terribly for the man. His brother would silently offer his condolences. Emmet couldn’t place his own feelings, however, and he furrowed his brow trying to remember, but nothing was coming to him. He imagined a bunch of different places. A graveyard? A desert? A beautiful manor? A battlefield? As soon as these images popped up they vanished again, leaving him more desolate and confused. Dialga, however, knew. The eternal dragon remembered it all. 

It gave a low cry in its throat in sorrow and mourning before continuing onwards. The march of time only pressed forwards. Rigid as metal and unyielding. It took and destroyed and consumed all, and yet made room for new creation in the past’s place. The great cycle given form. Yang.

 Up here among the clouds the sun was pleasantly warm compared to the cool wind and so was the mighty heartbeat of the dragon. It carried them faithfully down to the outskirts of Celestic town and alighted on the ground with hardly a sound. It was gentle, despite its enormous size, as tall as a house. Dialga hummed and lowered itself so they could disembark and head inside. Emmet hugged its neck in thanks while it decided to nap in the sunshine. 

It had been hundreds of years but for Ingo only weeks. It was a place he often retreated to when he was at his lowest. He slid off the dragon and began to approach. He gently slid his fingers along the door.

Emmet followed him, not really recognizing anything about this place. He stuck close to his side and kept an eye out, his silvery eyes glinting in the darkness.

"This is it." Ingo told him opening the door. This place had long been abandoned. "This is where it all started." He pushed it open noting the faded carvings and peeling paint. In the center was a large carved stone of the Yin Yang symbol. Two opposing forces balanced, each containing the heart of the other. Ingo walked toward it silently.

Emmet had seen the symbol before of course. People knew about Yin and Yang worldwide. Still, he followed his brother over to the stone. “So, you were here in the past? You mentioned it before briefly.”

"Lady Sneasler brought me here one winter in Hisui." Ingo told him. "She wanted me to see this. It felt so familiar to me and it was so cold outside." He gently touched the stone watching as the half he touched turned into a deep black color. "They say Yin is cursed."

“Cursed? I thought it was the other way around. Yang was doomed to walk the world for a thousand years without its proper half. Anguish only followed until it found the proper vessel of yin.” He watched as it pushed that deep dark color and was mesmerized. Carefully, he put his own hand up to the stone on the other half. There was nothing at first. At first….

"Not that kind of cursed. The other kind. Yin is darkness, evil." He felt himself frown at the lack of response from the stone. Still, there was nothing he could do. He would have to move on.

“Darkness isn’t evil, brother. Winter is a time of rest as is night. Shadows are casted by the light. Even if you are yin, I still love you. I am still your twin and I will stay be your side. Forever! Promise!” He gave him a smile and the stone started to heat up under his hand. “Ah?”

With a blinding brilliant light the stone shown with the light of the sun, bathing the cavern in pure light. Emmet wouldn’t lie that it blinded him a bit, he shut his eyes and shielded his face with his other arm. “W-what is this?!”

It was like a flash bomb going off in his face. His own hand came up to protect his face waiting for the two energies to settle. The yang cooled from the power of yin and faded down to a nice glow. The two finally balanced and settled.

Ingo began to open his eyes carefully before seeing the gentle glow. Serene and balanced. It would stay that way until they both removed their hands. This was what he had been looking for. "Emmet, look!"

“Uh, yeah Ingo, I see it too. So… I would ask what this means but I think the writing is one the wall.” Literally. “We are the new incarnations of yin and Yang??”

"It appears so." He removed his hand and watched the light fade. "Then this is but one of many lifetimes. Is that why I ended up in Hisui in the first place? Did I serve some greater purpose? Should I have stayed there?"

“No!” Emmet yelled suddenly. “Nono, you are meant to come home with me!” He was adamant on that and clenched his fists in stress. Not anger, just fear of losing his brother again.

Seeing his brother's distress Ingo put up his hands in placation. "Shh, I did not mean to upset you. Whatever my purpose was my tracks have led me here. I will not desert you, Emmet."

He calmed his breathing, remembering his therapy sessions to deal with panic attacks. Deep and slow. In and out. Wheewwww. He let out one final breath and tried to smile for his brother. It didn’t really work. 

“I-I’m sorry, please don’t s-scare me like that… I’ve waited so long and worked so hard to see you again, I couldn’t stand for you to go.” It might just kill him, in fact. He wouldn’t say that, though. The thought of losing Ingo again was crippling. Again and again. Never again. 

“I’ve had too many nightmares of it. I don’t want to ever think about it again.” He shook his head. Some nightmares were more real than others. A guillotine came to mind. An arrow. Train tracks. Twisting visions near and far. He had to blot them out of his eyes one way or another. His meds help at least with the waking ones. Emmet held out his hand. 

“Let’s get out of here. I hope you feel better now, right? Found what you needed?”

His mask was slipping but the hurt behind it was real. Emmet sounded so fragile and vulnerable in that moment. There was an urge in Ingo to try and protect him from that hurt. He wanted to keep him safe and happy, even from himself.

 "Yes, it's confirmed some things I've suspected." He told Emmet and slipped his hand into his. Giving it a squeeze he asked, "What is our next destination?"

“Home, brother. Home.” Emmet blinked as he stepped into the daylight, his eyes adjusting. What he saw was Dialga staring down at him, no longer napping. It gazed at him with piercing eyes and spoke in his mind. “AT LAST. WE ARE BOUND AGAIN.” He clamped his hands around his ears at the booming voice but it was not vocal, it was mental. Telepathy. At the same time Palkia emerged and stood next to Dialga, speaking only to Ingo. “YIN. I AM GLAD TO BE WITH YOU AGAIN, OLD FRIEND. YANG AS WELL.” Its tail twitched in a suppressed bit of joy.

"You mean in Unova?" He stopped when the lords of time and space were suddenly before them. Ingo should be freaking out. It's not normal to be telepathically talking to legendary pokemon. Most people would give their right hand for this. And yet Ingo felt strangely okay with this, not overwhelmed at all. He looked to see how Emmet was handing this turn in events.

Emmet clutched his head and feel to his knees. He squeezed his eyes shut to keep out all of the sights and sounds that kept rushing to mind. Familiar ones and distant ones alike. He had this problem before, sometimes even as a child. When the doctor asked if there was a family history of neurological disorders he totally forgot to mention his own. Surely if they peeked at his records they would balk. He screamed as it came rushing to him like a tidal wave crashing over his body. 

“HMM. TOO WEAK YET. HERE, ALLOW ME.” Dialga lowered its head and gently touched Emmet on the brow to lessen his pain. He couldn’t take it away completely, but the dragon could help. Gradually, his agony lessened into quiet sobs and he hushed down, hiccupping and trying to hold it together.

"EMMET!" Ingo was down with him as his brother screamed. Oh dragons, what was this? Ingo held him close but his mind was racing with thoughts of his own. It was like nothing he could do could fix this. Then Dialga worked his magic. Ingo remained unusually silent.

Emmet dry heaved and struggled to compose himself. He held onto Ingo for dear life, his body hot and flushed, but his brother was cool to the touch, soothing. He leaned his body into his arms and began to catch his breath. His heartbeat slowing and getting back under control.

He rubbed Emmet's back as he dry heaved. He felt so hot as if he were running a fever. Ingo pet his hair and began to rock again. His voice was very soft, people would think he was not capable of being this quiet, as he sang a song, "Dark for the sunrise, clouds for a blue sky, space for the traveling star. Strong from the inside, you're still my lifeline. I feel you wherever you are." It was a song that he had remember even in the highlands of Hisui. He didn't know where he had learned it, or from who, but it remained in his head along with his first name.

Emmet stilled as he heard the song. “We’ll meet again..” He knew that song too, somewhere deep in his soul. It soothed his ache, hearing it and Ingo holding him close. Yang knew peace and the world shifted with it back into balance, all thanks to Yin. “Thank you, brother.” he said softly.

Ingo tried to give him a shaky not-smile but he couldn't. He was so worried for Emmet. He had been fine since he touched the stone yin yang. "Perhaps we should get your engine checked out before we depart for home. Safety first."

"Nnnnnngh," He wanted to argue. Emmet wanted to go home. "But I promised Elesa we would be back today, nothing's wrong with me brother, I've had these before..." Not this severe, but it was true.

"You have?" Ingo said surprised. He didn't remember, no couldn't remember. He frowned at his own lack of memory. "So this wasn't caused by what we experienced in the temple?"

Emmet didn’t have his mask on. He had to be honest. 

“I see things, Ingo. I have since my youth, but it only got worse with age. It was mostly fine, though, just distracting. It was after you left that… that I started hallucinating a lot. I was seeing you over and over, but you weren’t really there.” He squeezed his brother’s shoulder for strength, “They put me in the hospital after some things happened. Put me on medication. I...I don’t know what that was just then, a flare up from what we just did?” 

Emmet shook his head. He didn’t know. “I’ll be alright. I just need to take it slow. We should go home, okay? Rest.” 

"What...what if it's me?" Ingo asked, "What if I'm the one making you sick. I'm parasitic to you!" It would bring to Emmet a memory. An ancient hurt that would lead only to the desert. 

"It's me! I'm the one making you sick! I'm parasitic to you!" 

“No! I need you! I need your power to calm these visions. I can see the future! We are supposed to be one!” 

"Brothers aren't supposed to hurt each other! They don't make each other sick. We're not bound by fate, but our choices."

Emmet felt a wave of queasiness come over him again from the memory being blasted into his brain. It made his nerves catch on fire and his muscles tense in fight or flight. 

“NO! You’re wrong!” He was almost as loud as Ingo got, unable to help himself. “Never say that! Don’t! It’s not true!” 

That life. That first life way back when. It kicked off the thousand years of pain. The true pain. It hollowed Yang out like nothing else. He shook his brother silly. 

“DON’T YOU DARE!!! YIN STAYS WITH YANG! YIN STAYS WITH YANG!!” Dialga growled in agreement and Palkia shifted uncomfortably. 

Ingo nearly jumped out of his skin at how loud Emmet became at that. He had no memory of that lifetime nor any idea how hurtful his word choice was. Then Emmet was shaking him yelling about how yin stays with yang as if the two could ever be separate from each other. 

"Em-Emmet!" Ingo tried to get in a word edge wise and place his hands on his twin's shoulders to keep from being shook so hard, "I'm just saying logically-"

“SHUT UP AND STOP IT!!” Emmet cried out in anguish. “Don’t go anywhere! Not you, not yin! None of it! Just stay!” 

He let go of Ingo, reeling back on himself from such a wild outburst. He was getting derailed and out of control. At this point, he was scaring himself. He felt his head swimming with his ugly thoughts that he worked so hard to keep under control all these years. He had made so much progress and it was all falling apart! Emmet needed to calm down. “L-let’s go home, brother. Please.” 

What on earth...? 

"Okay. Okay. Our next terminal will be home." Wherever that specifically was. Ingo turned to Palkia. "I would be grateful if you could set a course for Unova. My brother needs to rest." He told the lord of space.

Even Dialga looked scared, it quietly returned to its pokeball and Palkia nodded. It nuzzled Ingo in comfort before raising its claws together to warp space and bring them to the rooftop of their condo in Nimbasa. It was around 5am, just before the sun began to peak above the horizon. He huffed as he fell on his ass when they landed. Palkia cooed at Ingo softly in reassurance before returning to its pokeball.

 “T-this way, brother.” Emmet would lead Ingo down the stairs and unlock the door to their condo, showing his brother where his fresh clothes and bed was before flopping on his own and burying his face in the pillow. Hyoughhhhh… all the wind went right out of his sails. 

The nuzzling helped with his frayed nerves. For now, he silently followed Emmet down the stairs and oh. This was where he lived, they lived. A fresh set of clothes, including his old jackets. It was a good thing he owned several then! He had been worried about giving up his. When Emmet collapsed and pressed his face on the pillow Ingo slipped out of the room.

Their apartment was clean and neat as a whistle, just the way he left it with perhaps some more books. Just…. don’t look in the office. Emmet heard him walk off but tried to keep it calm. He wouldn’t leave the place…. right?

No. Right now Ingo was busy looking at their photos and mementos. Emmet could hear him walking around but never the door opening.

Emmet relaxed a bit, he was just. Exploring. It was natural. He hoped he kept the office door locked, though. His brother didn’t need to get blasted with all of…. that. Some fresh clothes, a shower, a little rest… it would do the both of them a lot of good. As for the photos there were plenty! Them on their first day of work together, family photos, pictures of them growing up with their pokemon, it was all very sweet. Elesa was there too! And Skyla! She had a crush on the boys, but given that they were aroace, she respected their boundaries. It was a nice place and clearly filled with love.

Hmmm, this door was locked. Wonder what was in there? Ingo kept moving on though because there was a lot to see here! Oh, there was him with Litwick and Emmet was holding a Tynamo. Maybe it had evolved like Litwick had. A black-haired woman and a red head...hmmm, more cousins? They didn't have family resemblance though like the other women in the photos so maybe they were girlfriends? Finally, there was silence in the condo but not because Ingo had left. It was because he was opening and closing the fridge door. Technology was a marvel. Bravo! 

Emmet heard him rustling around and a smile crept to his face. As long as he didn’t set the place on fire, it was fine. His amusement grew with how many times he opened the fridge. Silly!!! Silly man! 

It was cold! Cold without any ice! Imagine all of the food that could be preserved with such a device! He helped himself to a pecha berry before closing the door for a final time and beginning to move around the room again. 

There were various bags of pokemon food, train models, all sorts of things. Emmet’s extra set of keys were on the counter. What else did Ingo do?

Hmmm. He took the set of keys and opened the front door to their condo.

Emmet perked up at that, raising his head form the pillow and listening closely. Don't jump to conclusions. Wait. Don't be obsessive. Possessive. Don't lose it. But Ingo didn't remember anything, he can't wander out like this! Relax. Please relax. He isn't going anywhere; he is just looking around. You'll see. Emmet waited.

Ingo didn't want to head far. He knew how dangerous it was for people to get lost in the highlands and being lost in the city could be dangerous as well especially since he didn't recognize any of the landmarks. No, he would go down the street. Oh there was a corner store here! That was good to know although he didn't have any money on him. 

Then down the street in the opposite direction. Yes, this was a huge city. Very easy to get lost. He would have to be careful. Ingo walked back to their building and the door opened again signaling his return into the condo. Oh! There's a balcony. He hadn't noticed that until he was directly across from it. That would give him a good view of the city!

Emmet’s heart sank as Ingo’s footsteps faded. He leapt out of bed ready to dash after him, but he stopped himself. He had his pokemon with him. He had Palkia with him. And more importantly, he felt this tug in his chest. He knew Ingo was still close by. Breathe. Let him be. This was a new place for him. Relax.

 Emmet untensed his muscles with some effort and sighed. He went out to the balcony to smoke, man did he need it. He couldn’t do that at the hospital and so much had happened during their trip to the church and temple. Now he could finally rest. 

Oh! There was Ingo walking on the street! And then the other way! And right back home. Emmet tapped the pack of cigarettes for another for his third one that morning as Ingo came back inside, he turned his head as he saw him and smiled with the sunrise glowing behind him. “How was your little adventure?” 

"Quite informative and worrisome. I'm afraid I have a lot of relearning to do." Ingo admitted coming onto the balcony with him. His nose crinkled at the smell of cigarette smoke. He didn't remember his brother smoking. It was beautiful up here watching the sun rise up from the dark. "Are you feeling better?" Ingo asked him cautiously.

Emmet leaned back in his chair, blowing a cloud of smoke away. “Yes, I think so. Being home helps. You being here helps. It’s just been an emotional rollercoaster for me. A little bit of time getting back into a routine will help, I think. Big unplanned changes always did throw us off and make us panic. Autism can do that to you,” he replied with a soft smile.

"I always did prefer a schedule. I suppose now I will have to learn a new one." Ingo replied sitting in the other chair. "There was something you said earlier that I didn't quite understand about yin staying with yang."

“Hmm??? Oh… I.. I don’t know. A lot was flashing in my brain at the time. Maybe it was a past life trying to tell me something. That we shouldn’t be apart. It sure felt that way.” He shrugged. 

"That implies that Yin could separate from Yang. I wasn't aware that such a thing could be possible." Ingo pointed out.

Emmet shook his head. “I don’t know either. Your guess is as good as mine. All I know is that I get this horrible… pang of hurt at the very idea of it. Whatever it is, I don’t like it. I want things to stay just as they are. No need to change it. We are a set. The best, perfect! Yup!” He took another drag.

Ingo nodded at that thinking about everything that had happened in the last two days. "Where can we get water to bathe?" He asked his brother. It might feel nice to have a proper bath to celebrate this new beginning.

“Ah, in the bathroom there is a shower.” He said nonchalantly. He waited as Ingo didn’t move. “.....you don’t know what that is.”

 Emmet pulled a long drag on his cigarette to finish it and put it out before heading back inside, beckoning his brother to follow him. He opened the bathroom to show him how things worked. 

“Alright, this is a sink. You lift this lever for water to come out, see? To the right is cold water, to the left is warm water. That is a toilet. You lift the lid and… relieve yourself in it. Then you push down this handle to flush it away. That roll of paper there is to clean yourself. That can be flushed away along with your waste. And this,” he pulled back the curtain. “Is a shower. It’s the same as the sink but for your whole body. Lift this and water will come out from that nozzle up at the top. Here are the towels to clean yourself off. This is shampoo, you lather it into your hair to clean it. If you want, you use this, which is conditioner. It goes in your hair after you rinse out the shampoo, it is to strengthen your hair and make it vibrant. And this is body wash. It’s basically soap for your whole body. Scrub good! Once you start the water, step inside and pull the curtain closed. I can put your clothes in the wash and bring you fresh ones.” 

"Ah, thank you." It was embarrassing how much he didn't know, how much he had forgotten. He titled his head down so that he wouldn't meet Emmet's eyes for this. "I'll be out momentarily."

“It’s alright, brother,” he said, reading his expression. “It’s alright to ask for help.” 

Emmet closed the door behind him and waited for the water to start and the curtain to close before yoinking his old clothes. Yeesh, they had been through a lot. He placed neatly folded fresh ones in their place and closed the door again. 

The hot water felt good on his sore muscles. It gave him a moment to just relax. Now it was around 6am, about the time that Drayden had been rising and getting ready for the day if Emmet wanted to call him.

Ohhh boy, would dad freak out? Was it too early for the poor man’s heart? Fuck it. He couldn’t in good conscience make him wait any longer. He put on facetime, hoping he would pick up. 

Drayden had just sat down with his morning coffee when he got the facetime call from Emmet. His nephew hadn't been well since Ingo's disappearance although he had been doing a lot better since two years ago. Still things never felt quite right between them since the funeral. Drayden wasn't going to abandon him though and answered the call. "Emmet."

“Heyyyyyy dad, I’m back from Sinnoh!” He said sheepishly, testing the waters. He was still scared of him. After getting into that fight, it was always stiff between them. And yeah, the funeral. Or lack thereof. 

"Glad to have you home." He told him. Truthfully he was, although the Dragon Master was still concerned about Emmet's inability to move on. He had always been worried about the boys codependency on each other but at the time had chucked it up to their experiences in the foster care system. Now those fears seemed to have come true. Maybe if he had insisted on separating them. "Did you have a good time?"

“Well, yes and no. I did bring back a souvenir! A reaaaaallly good one! Here’s a hint!” He held up Ingo’s tattered old hat. 

Dragons. It looked like a beat-up old subway hat like Ingo would wear. He was trying to be patient but he didn't really feel like guessing games, especially this early in the morning. "Emmet, just tell me what you got."

Emmet twirled it around on his finger with a grin. “C’mon, you’re no fun.” 

"Emmet, have you been speaking to your therapist about this?" Drayden asked with a sigh deciding to cut to the point.

Emmet cocked his head to the side. “I go every two weeks, dad, I haven’t been skipping out.” He stopped twirling the hat and held it steady. 

"Have you talked about your grief?" He asked him concerned. He didn't want to use the words 'moving on' because he knew how it upset his son but that was exactly what he was talking about.

“We talk about it all the time,” he said a little pointedly. “And you never did guess. Boo. Well, I’m happy to tell you I found him. I brought him back. Ingo.” 

He felt his heart break. Drayden didn't enjoy this at all. It broke his heart when Ingo disappeared and it kept rebreaking every time Emmet got sick. "Emmet, we talked about this."

“I’m serious, dad! I found him, see??” He pointed to the old hat. 

He could feel a migraine coming on. Drayden hated walking on eggshells like this. He was worried that something he did or say would set Emmet off and try to hurt himself again. Then he would have to bury two sons. "You found Ingo's old hat." He would concede that much. Ingo meanwhile was finishing up his shower. His skin was starting to get pruney so it was time to come out.

Emmet slammed his fist on the table. “Just give me a minute, would you!?” Calm! Calm. Calm yourself. “He’s just in the other room, you’ll see.” 

Drayden would wait. He was scared of what Emmet might do if he hung up since he was clearly already agitated. Maybe he was fighting the inevitable but Drayden never met a fight that he back down from in life. That fighting spirit was what kept him young. He gave Emmet a nod to signal that he would wait but to be honest he wasn't expecting much.

A few moments passed in uncomfortable silence. “Ingo, are you finishing up?? I have someone you’ll love to meet!” 

"Coming! One moment please!" Ingo called out still dressing. Finally he came out in sweat pants and a baggy shirt. Drayden felt his jaw drop.

 "Ingo?" 

Ingo blinked, "I'm sorry. I've seen your face in photos but...the doctors say I have memory problems. I'm sorry."

“Ingo, this is uncle Drayden. He raised us, so we call him dad. See? I told you I brought home a good souvenir!” He snickered to himself seeing his wide expression.

"I see." Ingo took a seat in the chair next to Emmet, "I'm pleased to meet you again." 

"Dragons, Ingo. Where have you been lad? We were so worried for you." Drayden said softly. It melted Ingo's heard to think about how he and Emmet must have been so worried about him. 

"I was in the past, in Hisui. I had no memory of where I had come from or how to get back home. I have only recently arrived at this station."

“Put it mildly dad… I reached across time and space to bring him home, just like I said I would.” Emmet spoke softly and tears glistened in his eyes. He wasn’t mad, he was right and now everything was where it needed to be. Home.

So much was going through his mind right now and to be fair it was a lot to take in. The boys had been like sons to him ever since his own younger brother died. Losing Ingo felt like losing Watson all over again except worse. There was no closure, no space to grieve between Emmet's bouts of madness and the lingering hope in his heart that maybe Ingo was still out there. "Emmet, I'm so sorry."

It was rare for his father to apologize. Even rarer to him. His voice was wavering, so unlike the dragon master it caught him off guard. 

“It’s okay, dad.. We’re back. We’re finally home. You should come visit soon. I need to take Ingo to the police station here today and maybe if he is feeling up to it, follow me around Gear Station. See Elesa again.” Emmet looked up at Ingo. “What do you think?” 

"How about we go tomorrow." Ingo suggested, "I think I need to rest for today. It has been a lot. I will feel ready to reroute tomorrow." 

"Just...take care of each other." Drayden said, "And please call. I'll call your cousins, let them know you're both home and okay."

“Alright, dad. Sounds good. We will be here, always.” Emmet looked up at Ingo with happy eyes. 

“Yes, a lazy day of rest would do us good. Hmm.” His eyes flicked around the apartment. “I suppose you have questions about your new surroundings!” 

Ingo gave a wave as Drayden hung up to allow them to rest. He needed to call his other children and grandchildren anyway. 

"I do but after everything..." Ingo paused. Emmet would still be here when he woke. He could hold off for now, "I think I just want to take a nap." Hopefully his twin would not be offended.

Hardly. “Alright. But if you want to explore or need an explanation, just ask. There is no shame in asking for help, brother.” He gave him a warm smile. “And if you want something to eat, I will be more than happy to make it for you.” 

"Thank you." Ingo replied gratefully getting up. "My bed is the other correct?" He moved to rise and gave another stretch for his back.

“Yes, yours is the one with the black sheets. That whole half of the room is yours,” he called out from the table in the main room. When Ingo opened the door he found his pokemon waiting to snuggle. 

Oh! Ingo felt himself begin to smile when he beheld Chandelure again. His partner with the mastery of flames. 

"Hello, old friend. I'm sorry I kept you waiting." He held her face as she gave a happy cry. Haxorus bent down to lick his hair while Excadrill and Crustle pulled at his pant legs. "Goodness! Patience all of you! Let me lie down and rest and I promise you will then all receive your due!" He also let out the pokemon he had caught in Hisui. Hopefully the two will become friends soon. What was Emmet up to?

Emmet scrolled on his phone for the news and texted Elesa that they were back home safe and sound and were going to rest for the day. Tomorrow they would head to Gear Station. Emmet wondered what to do for food. Heck, they could even order something and have it delivered. Maybe they really just needed a lazy day. He went back out to the balcony to finish his pack of cigarettes, watching and listening to the sounds of the city as morning began to shine strong. 

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

End of chapter 1

[artsspangledpumpkin]

Positions in Life Ch. 6 by @wickedobsessed101 a.k.a Fae'sFlower AO3/FFN

The purple-vested men stepped further into the light. The first thing Elphaba noticed, other than his long, black dreadlocks and ochre skin, was some type of blue tattoos going down his right cheek and neck and vanishing underneath his unbuttoned shirt. She couldn't make out exactly what the markings were, but they looked like tiny diamonds. He looked up at the Munchkin flag atop the carriage, then back at Elphaba. He tilted his head, and Elphaba assumed he was curious about her skin.

Fiyero arriving on a horse to meet Elphaba has been living rent free in my mind.

[queenvidal]

The Missing Piece

Chapter 2: Strange Feelings

Chapter Summary: Goodneighbor is facing quite some problems but Hancock needs a break. It's hard to concentrate with his mind spiraling back to the woman from the vault.

Wordcount: 2159

Chapter Index:

Ch. 1 / Ch. 2 / Ch. 3 / Ch. 4 / Ch. 5 / Ch. 6 / Ch. 7 / Ch. 8 / Ch. 9

Masterlist

The last week has been a mess.

The group of green skins that have attacked Nick and Blue settled down not far away from Goodneighbor. In fact, they came far too close for Hancock’s liking. He and Fahrenheit spend the last few days working hard on finding a solution. So hard even that John didn’t have time to take one of his little chem breaks every now and then to take off the edge.

His usually blurred mind sobered up over the time and got almost completely clear and sharp and it just wouldn’t shut up. Though being sober isn't something John is unfamiliar with, the sheer chaos in his head had kept him from concentrating. 

Thoughts were racing through his head, bringing past demons back into focus. His mind zoned out constantly, brought him back to diamond city, to the things he did and didn’t do. But the worst part was the anxiety. Out of the blue he’d feel knots tightening in his chest, making it hard to breathe. He’d find himself clenching onto his sofas or desk, his chest heaving. At first he thought it might be some kind of bad tripping or a response to the never ending flood of pictures in his head. But he knows what that feels like and it doesn’t come close to whatever is going on with him now. It’s something he has no idea how to handle.

His nerve-racking arm was just the cherry on the top. Amari couldn’t find what was causing that unpleasant feeling and ended up just injecting Med-X. It did not help in the slightest, but Hancock didn’t bother to tell her. He thanked her for her help with Blue and his arm and quickly left.

“Hancock, what the fuck?” She asks, looking up from the map on the table. John’s face stays unreadable sternly, if she wouldn’t know him as well as she does, she’d find it quite intimidating. “That’s just bullshit! Are you even listening to what I’m saying? We are low on supplies as it is.” She points onto the map. “We can't go in with two teams, the two blocks are still raider territory, we'd have to -"

Needless to say that John’s mood soured quickly over the past few days and Fatenheit is getting sick of it.

“I’ve said two teams and two teams will get sent.” His voice is uncomfortably calm. The guards around the makeshift warrable share uneasy glances. Hancock has been really on edge like he is right now. To call the atmosphere in the room tense would be an understatement. 

Fahrenheit doesn’t care about what he wants. “I won’t send our men on a suicide mission just because these mutants hurt the robots little girlfriend.”

John's knuckles are turning white from the tight grip on the table. “You do as I say.”

“Nope. Know what,  I’m out.” Fahrenheit rounds the table to go for the door. She snips into the air, getting her men moving out of the room. “I am fucking tired of your irrational and stubborn orders. We'll adjourn this whole revenge trip of yours until you get your shit together. Go get your ass to The Third Rail and get wasted or something. It is absolutely impossible to work with you right now!" And with that the woman steps out of the office, leaving Hancock alone in the dim light of a few candles. 

He's furious. How dare she talk to him like that? As much as he treasures their friendship, this woman is crossing lines. At the end of the day, he's the mayor and she's just his right hand. He's in charge and that's something she needs to keep in mind. it's one thing to yell at him when they are private and talking eye to eye, no problem with that. But she has to fucking stay in line when it is business related. Especially with their men around.

Her current disobedience is maddening. And the damn migraine isn't helping either. Or his shaking hands. Or the cold sweet. For fuck sake, withdrawals already? The absolute last thing he wants to do is admitting that Fahrenheit was right. Maybe he really should take a break and drown himself in cheap whisky that  would make humans go blind. Maybe combined with jet, slowing his spinning mind that won't shut up about things he'd rather not think about.

Well, If they are still having jet and whisky, or alcohol in general that is. Their supply line is still cut. Another problem Hancock still has to solve. Maybe the mutants will kill the raiders or the other way around. That would be the easiest way but that again, nothing in the Commonwealth is easy.

Whatever. There is still an untouched 'survival kit' of all kinds of chems in the drawer of the mayor's desk. It definitely won't save his life when his town of criminals and junkies revolt against him for letting them dry down but at least he would be far away in mindless bliss when they paint his office with his guts.

Damn, since when did his thoughts go down such dark roads? John shakes his head, he really needs a break before his thoughts drive him crazy. With a sigh he takes his pack of smokes and leaves for The Third Rail.

When he passes Ham with a nod in greeting and enters the bar, he gets hit by the smell of cheap perfume, booze, smoke and vomit. Home.

The ghouls face cracks a smile when he sees his favorite detective sitting right at the bar, downing a longdrink, that smells exactly like coolant. Hancock takes the chair next to him. "Look who's here. Mind some company, Nicky?"

The synth huffs a laugh and takes a sip from his drink before he answers. "Not at all. And who am I to reject the mayor of Goodneighbor?"

Hancock orders two whiskeys and downs them both in one needy gulp. The liquid slowly burns its way down John's throat. Damn, he really needed that. While savoring the slow burn, he puts the glasses down with a loud clink.

Nick eyes Hancock with a questioning frown. "Ehm. A bit eager, are we?" Charlie refills the glasses without a comment and hovers away to the other guests. 

John pulls out a pack of smokes from his pocket, taking one out and offers Nick one as well. The detective doesn't say no but the frown doesn't leave his face when he takes one.

"Long day in the office." John sighs as he lights up his cigarette before taking a long drag. "How are you doing, Nicky, everyone treating you alright?"

Nick simply nods before he takes another sip. "Yeah, yeah."

John notices the tiredness in the synth's voice. Something is the matter. "So." The ghoul starts. "And what is your excuse for being here? Despite the girls and drinks?" Hancock lets his gaze wander through the bar. All familiar faces are sitting on crates, listening to Magnolia, drinking, fainting. Nothing out of the ordinary. A black haired woman meets his eyes, she smiles at him from under her bangs. Hancock acknowledges her by tipping his hat down a bit before he returns his attention back to his friend who still didn't answer his question.

Nick's eyes are glued at the almost empty glass in his hand while he takes long drags of his cigarette. He looks lost in thought, like he is pouting for whatever reason. "C'mon Nicky, what's bothering you? Everything alright with your vaultie?"

The synth just shakes his head. Eventually he sighs, "No, not really." John feels his stomach drop at that. Were her injuries more severe than they thought, did she catch an infection? All kinds of scenarios are floating around in his head. Nick takes another drag, "But I guess the Doc already told you." 

Actually she didn't. John hasn’t talked to her since Nick and Blue came into town. His arm did really go on his nerves, but he didn’t want to bother Amari with it again. He figured it might be part of his ghoulification. Losing some parts other than the nose and ears is normal, usually a toe or two. To lose whole limbs is possible but it's  very, very rare. Definitely not something John would be looking forward to but in the end he knew what he got himself into when he made his decision to become one. 

Also the last days were very stressful.  He was so occupied with his arm and the super mutants, he simply forgot to ask the doc about the woman from a vault. 

Which is a total lie.

John found his mind taking him back to the night where Nick and Blue stumbled through the gates ever so often. But lying to himself is easier than facing his worries for a person he barely met. Or the strange clenching of his guts whenever he memorized Blue’s wound and the sheer amount of blood all over her suit and Nick.

John tears his mind away from the memory, "Haven't spoken to her since you two came here. What's wrong?"

The vague answer only adds to the uneasy feeling in Hancock guts. "Care to be a bit more precise?"

Nick just sighs. “A lot.”

"She… well, let's say she's been through a lot and it shows - mentally."

Now that just piques John's curiosity. "What do you mean?"

"You know I don't talk about running investigations, Hancock."

So Blue is an actual client of his. Why the hell would somebody from a vault leave one of the safetes places in the Commonwealth behind to ask a synth detective for help? John hits the synth on his shoulder lightly. "Come on now, Nick. Don't leave me hanging here like that."

Nick puts out his cigarette in an ashtray before looking up to answer. "She's in the Rexford. Talk to her if you want to know more about her story, it's not my place to tell."

Hancock just rolls with his eyes. Of course he could just do that but if he’s honest to himself, her private matters are none of his business. Sure, he could defend himself by playing the 'I'm the mayor of the town and saved your life' card but that's not his style. And technically did Amari save her life - He just stabbed Finn out of the way.

John cringes internally at that. Damn, shes a fucking vaultie after all, her people are not used to the harsh reality outside their giant metal doors. Hell, she even most likely never saw a ghoul before. What  must she be thinking of him-

"Good evening, mayor Hancock."

The soft voice behind the men makes them turn their heads towards the source of it. It’s the black haired girl from the table on the other side of the bar.

"Good evening yourself-" John knows her, he is certain of it but what's her name again? Mindy? Suzi? "Pretty." Or just go with harmless, flattering pet names. A method that proved to be very sufficient over the years. The woman gives him a bright smile in response. "What can I do for you?" John asks even though he already knows what she's up to.

She bites her lower lip playfully, all of the sudden acting shy. "Well, I wondered if you'd like to have some company later, you know?”

Yeah, just like John thought. Nick looks at him with a knowing smile on his face but doesn't say anything. The ghoul considers her invention for a moment. The main dilemma for the last few years, ever since he became mayor of Goodneighbor - Sex or drugs. 

Both at the same time can be fun, too. But the possibility of passing out during a one night stand, being that vulnerable around a person who is just interested in his caps or chems, or just has a weird ghoul fetish, that's stuff nightmares are made of. At least his. So no, both are not an option.

"You can have him." Nick says nonchalantly as he stands up from his chair. "I've finished my drink anyway and I have a client to take care of." 

Jealousy hits John like a bolt of lightning. A feeling he didn't have in a very long time. It's so sudden and without warning, it takes him off guard. He tries not to read too much into that and turns his attention back to Trudy. Or Ruby? The woman takes Nick's seat immediately even though John hasn't answered yet. With a sigh on the remaining of his lips he just gives in. No drugs tonight then. But before Nick is out of earshot, John calls after him. There is one burning question he needs an answer for. "Nick! Blue ain't her real name, is it?"

The synth waves at him as he makes his way to the exit. "It's not."

Chapter Index:

Ch. 1 / Ch. 2 / Ch. 3 / Ch. 4 / Ch. 5 / Ch. 6 / Ch. 7 / Ch. 8 / Ch. 9

Masterlist

Taglist: @loverofclones / @squeakythedragon / @martinys-world / @id-rather-be-in-middle-earth

[lizzybeth1986]

Rose Gold

Book: The Royal Romance

Pairing: Hana Lee x Kiara Theron

Rating: PG

Word Count: 4, 304 words

Content Warning: Mention of Gun Violence, Character Injury.

Summary: Six months after King Liam and Queen Esther's wedding, Hana and Kiara take their next big step as a couple.

A/N: Set in the P&Tverse. Since P&T spans the timelines of Books 2 and 3 (the Engagement Tour and the Unity Tour + Liam & Esther's wedding), most of this fic takes place after the series is meant to end, and there are references to things that happen there that aren't canon.

The first half of the fic, however, takes place just before the group reunites with the MC and Drake at the safe house (TRR3, Ch 1).

I've borrowed a few elements from Hana's own engagement to the MC in the books: the rose gold ring, the coin throwing ritual at the foundation and the proposal at the lake.

Tagging @hanaleeappreciationweek for Day 5: Romance, @choicesficwriterscreations for FoTW and LGBTQ Archive, and @choicesmaychallenge24 for Hera: Marriage

October 14th, 2017. Half past Midnight.

Foolishness. Sheer foolishness.

The voice inwardly chiding her right now sounded suspiciously like her mother; for that reason alone she was desperate to ignore it.

But what else would one call an impulse to jump out of a car that could take her in complete secrecy to the city's best safe house, only to race to Argyros and Sons - Cordonia's premier jewellery store - for a gift she wasn't even sure would be accepted...a promise she wasn't even sure its intended recipient would want?

"Looking for something specific, Your Grace?"

Surprised, Hana looked up from the case displaying an assortment of glittering diamond rings. The eyes that met hers in a speculative survey were ocean-blue, marked by wizened crow's feet. It was at the tip of her tongue to correct him (Lady Hana, sir!) when she spotted the Twitter feed on the iPhone in his hand.

News sure does travel fast around the Capitol!

But no sooner had that thought left her head, than the riptide of memories began to flood her.

The Homecoming Ball. Hors d'oeuvres. Speeches. Fireworks. Announcements. Please welcome Esther DuPont, Duchess of Valtoria, and Hana Lee, Duchess of Krysanthe. Cheers. Expectant Gazes. And then...

Darkness. Gunshots. The acrid taste of fear.

Hana bit back a grimace. How long would memories of tonight haunt her? How long would it be before she heard people address her by her new title, without memories of the violence that followed?

She held her handbag with a sudden death-grip, forcing herself to breathe. To push forth happier, sweeter memories.

Unbidden, comes the one memory that had managed to keep her sane this night.

Her laughter.

Sharp. Raucous. Loud. Jarring against the tinkling sounds of cutlery and glassware, as far away as one could get from the soft, windchime quality of delicate laughter, that every female courtier was taught to emulate.

She thought she'd known love until that moment, fool that she was. Thought that no matter who she dated, no matter how distant she'd be from those memories of the social season - Esther would somehow remain her first and forever love.

Until she had taken that one fateful look at Kiara's wildly joyous face, heard her cackle - the kind one would never normally dare to do at court - and realized with piercing clarity that if she were to compare her feelings for these two women, they would be nowhere close.

Her love for Esther had all the subdued warmth of a crackling bonfire. But these newfound feelings for Kiara?? They made her feel like she was plunging herself headfirst into a raging volcano.

Something within Hana had trembled violently in that moment; some premonition that felt searing in its finality.

Kiara was the one. She was all Hana had ever wanted, without knowing it; all that Hana would ever want, from now till eternity. The one in whose arms she would want to stir awake, every day for the rest of her life.

Kiara Thorne, or no one. Kiara Thorne, or lifelong loneliness.

The phrase rang in her ears like a verdict: final, eternal, unchangeable.

When Hana opened her eyes, she found to her consternation that they were blurry from unshed tears. Quickly blinking them away, she noted dully how different the rings on the display now looked.

Certainly she must have moved to another part of the store without knowing. Where before she'd seen glittering, brilliant, ostentatious diamonds, set in white gold and platinum...now she saw stones nestled in the embrace of a warmer, almost blush-toned metal.

Rose gold.

The metal that was all the rage in her mother's birthplace Bethulia, for its delicate shimmer and soft pink hue. Mama had told her often enough in her childhood that their barony's love for it went far beyond just the colour...that her mother - Hana's Nanimaa - loved it for being such a perfect union of gold, silver and copper...

A whisper of a memory of Nanimaa, the one time she'd ever seen her. At a fountain, glowing from the glimmer of abandoned coins.

It took her less than a minute to find exactly what she didn't know she'd been looking for. Had you asked the jeweller about her, he would have told you that the newly appointed Duchess of Krysanthe had chosen her ring with the greatest confidence. The confidence of a woman who had probably wooed her beloved, confessed her love, basked in the joy of being loved back.

A confidence Hana didn't feel.

When she returned to the limo, she was greeted with the sight of a pensive Liam, rubbing the frown between his brows absently with his fingers. A telltale muscle jumped inside his jaw.

"Any news?" Hana whispered, almost dreading the answer.

"Yes," his voice was grainy from exhaustion and guilt. "Three people injured. Bastien, Esther's press secretary, and...."

"And?" Her voice had gone small and high, that a fearful child's.

"And Lady Kiara. She was..."

Hana blinked once, then blinked again. Liam's mouth was moving, yet no sound seemed to come out. All that she could hear was a low, keening noise, like a muffled siren...or like the moan of a woman in terrible pain.

Kiara. Kiara. Kiara.

--

May 12th, 2018. Afternoon.

"How far from the palace are you taking us?" Kiara asks, her voice alight with laughter.

"Not even outside its gates," Hana replies, grinning. Kiara looks down at their fingers laced together, palms almost touching.

They've been together for just six months, and still somehow, the lines on Hana's palm feel as familiar to her now as her own. Without even looking she can conjure up the memory of the heartline on Hana's left palm at a moment's notice - long and deep, starting from her index finger, suggesting she would be a wonderful lover with a very fruitful love experience - and her marriage line, stretching from one end of her palm all the way to her ring finger...suggesting friendly in-laws.

(The thought of luring Hana to marry her under the premise of palmistry is sounding more and more tempting by the minute)

Involuntarily - perhaps to stop herself from checking her trouser pockets once again for that tiny box she took from her vault today - Kiara's hand tightens around Hana's.

Can she dare to hope that fortunate beloved could be her?

She steals a glance in Hana's direction, noting with alarm that her fingers are trembling in Kiara's hand.

"We're here," she says, her voice suddenly small and quivering against the gurgle of water in the courtyard fountain. It's been a palace fixture for several decades now - ornate and imposing - a legacy from King Liam's formidable grandmother, the late Queen Mother Cassandra. According to Kiara's father, the woman had married into the family as a young princess from Monterisso, and for her foreignness alone was expected to be crushed by the strictures of the palace and the expectations of her people - yet in a decade's time she had somehow became the most imposing figure there! There was very little in the palace that didn't have her stamp of approval first.

As they come closer, Kiara sees the one thing Queen Mother Cassandra may not have predicted when this fountain was built - the glimmer of coins, all gleaming in the sunlight like they were minted just yesterday.

Her own smile begins to tremble on her lips, even as she notices Hana swallow a telltale nervous lump in her throat. For the first time since they have gotten here, Kiara notices that Hana's other hand is fisted around something. Something that could very likely be the same coins they just saw in the fountain.

She takes that hand gently in hers, knowing now how nervous Hana must feel; knowing that if they complete the ancient lover's ritual that she so hoped to do today, there will be no going back. She uncoils Hana's fisted hand, finger by quivering finger, watching her face as her breathing quickens. She smiles again - a smile more aimed at reassurance than amusement.

"Are we going to do what I think we're going to do today, ma moité?"

For several seconds, Hana doesn't respond. The three coins in her hand (Heavy. Ornate. Engraved with apples. Ancient) are proof enough. The answer, when it finally comes - almost like it is torn out of her throat for fear that Kiara's feelings may not match her own - is barely audible.

"Only if this is what you want too."

Gold. Silver. Copper. Tossed in one after the other in an ancient lover's ritual - one that Kiara knows only because she'd learned about it from her mother, who'd had friends in Bethulia where this ritual was most popular. Maman and Baba themselves had done it on a trip there when she was a teenager, still squirming over her parents' ability to still act like swoony romantics in their (and this would be said well out of their earshot) "fucking forties!".

Wiser now, Kiara feels the same anticipatory tingles that her parents must have felt back then.

This ritual wasn't for the faint of heart in ancient days. You did it only when you were certain. When you looked at your lover and knew that a life without them wasn't a life worth living.

Well, Kiara muses as she watches a hundred emotions flit in a second over Hana's face, I think I've known that long enough. I've known ever since I saw you fight your father in Shanghai, even when you knew it would cost you everything. Since that one moment, I've been yours.

Planting a tender kiss on the corner of Hana's mouth, she takes the coins. "Ready when you are," she whispers softly.

Hana swallows again, her eyes glistening and moist and relieved all at once. In a silk pouch that dangles from her wrist, she fishes for three coins identical to the ones on Kiara's palm. She breathes deep once, twice, three times.

Kiara links their free hands, grips them tight as they turn their backs to the fountain. Hana looks up, a question in her eyes.

"For friendship!" Kiara says, tossing the copper coin into the fountain. Faint memories of something that almost feels like another lifetime glimmer and fade in her memory. Applewood, sipping water, giggling over their favourite fruits and flowers. The Beaumont Bash. Watching from the sidelines as Hana did the verbel equivalent of ripping out Olivia Nevrakis' spine at the Coronation Ball.

Hana takes out the silver coin, and waits for Kiara to holds up hers'. "For love?"

Engagement tour. Fearing Hana would hate her in Fydelia, but never understanding why that should suddenly matter. Standing with her against a bridge in Paris, each mourning their lost loves.

Finally learning what love really was, when she opened her eyes and truly saw Hana for the very first time.

Kiara nods, touching her forehead to Hana's. "Par amour." Their coins splash in unison in the water.

Her girlfriend lets out a watery giggle as she takes out the final coin, glittering and golden on her palm. Her voice breaks a little as she tosses it behind her. "For...bel- belonging".

Kiara's own sigh releases in a shudder as she lets the final pledge sink in.

There were very few places in the world that truly felt like home to Hana. Not the place where she was born, not the barony that could have been her legacy. It took her months to even find comfort or security in her future in Cordonia - much less belonging.

Without a moment's thought, and without releasing the golden coin in her hand, she cups Hana's face and kisses her. Hana shudders and buries her hands in Kiara's hair, her lips trembling against the unspoken promises in her lover's.

"For belonging," Kiara says it like it is a vow. "And I don't care how long it takes - I give my word right now. I'll never let you feel like you have lost your home. Ever." Another kiss - this time on Hana's temple. "I hope you will always find one. In me."

Hana's smile is warm and dreamlike, her eyes closed as if to savour this moment, her fingers playing with Kiara's curls. She barely notices the sound of Kiara's gold coin landing in the fountain. "I love you, Kiki."

Kiara chuckles at her teasing use of the nickname, brushing Hana's nose with her own. "Together forever?"

Their hands, now free, close around each other. "Together forever."

It's quiet now, except for the sound of collard doves, the rustle of leaves and branches in a light breeze, and their breathing. The air smells of wildflowers, citrus and a subtle floral scent that Kiara knows to be the perfume Hana has been using for months. Orange Blossom. She grins as she remembers. It's a scent Hana has often loved to wear, just for her.

Hana's thumb feathers lightly over the ring finger on Kiara's left hand, almost as if to commit the bare space on it to her memory. Kiara doesn't miss that gaze - bright-eyed and soaked in longing - and how it mirrors a need she has felt ever since they landed at the Capitol last week.

Kiara swallows. She had wanted to take things slow, she really did. Woo her, bathe her in every luxury possible, make this trip even more unforgettable than Hana could ever imagine, and then spring this surprise on her - like a kirsch-soaked cherry topping on an already very tempting Black Forest Cake.

But...but that gaze of Hana's has always been Kiara's undoing.

Simply, she says, "come with me."

Puzzled, Hana looks up. "Where?"

"To Lake Sôse," Kiara whispers, wasting not one more moment and grabbing her hand. Hana lets out a nervous, slightly incredulous laugh as she allows herself to be pulled along.

Kiara isn't sure why she's suddenly rushing this. When she thinks of the elaborate plans she'd been constructing all week - chocolate-dipped strawberries and champagne at one of the Capital's premier restaurants, flowers everywhere, a proposal at the hedge maze with a picture together by the swing to commemorate the occasion - she wants to laugh. She isn't even sure why Lake Sôse was the first place she'd thought of just now.

She takes a deep breath, and grounds herself. Uncommonly impulsive though it may be, her decision has been made. There is even a part of her that seems to prefer it to happen this way!Kiara has never been one for last minute changes of plan...but ever since she fell in love with Hana, she's learned to expect - and enjoy - the unexpected.

It's only when she sees the shine in Hana's eyes that she realises why her mind took the turn it did.

Lake Sôse. The one place Hana Lee has always chosen for solace and comfort. The one place in the Capitol where she felt the most at home. It had been here, Hana told Kiara once, that King Liam had told her his plans to appoint her Duchess of Krysanthe. It was here, hours later, that she'd shared that momentous news with her best friend Esther; where Esther - herself aglow with love and a newfound purpose - hugged Hana and told her that the world would now be Hana's oyster.

She'd brought Kiara to this lake for the first time the day after King Liam and Queen Esther's wedding, following a night when the queen herself had been kidnapped, and Hana had joined the king's entourage to rescue her.

A night that Kiara - in constant fear of losing her forever - had recklessly kissed Hana. In public. In front of the entire court. Braving gazes of teasing approval from Kiara's parents, and near-murderous glares from Hana's. The night everyone outside of Hana's friend circle finally realized the two were a couple.

Kiara remembers the day after that like it was yesterday. Something must have changed fundamentally in Hana that night, because the fear seemed to have gone, and with it the compulsive need for hiding and subterfuge and constantly looking over her shoulder. It was as if Hana had faced what she'd thought was the worst thing that could happen to her, and realized she really was strong enough to face that fear.

You're my safe place among people, Hana told her that morning, her fingers lacing through Kiara's. The one I feel most at home with. I want to bring my safe space..to the place in Cordonia I've always felt safest in.

It is afternoon, and the yellow crocuses behind them exude a warm, buttery golden glow in the sunlight. Hana lets out a breathless, incredulous laugh. "You seem like a woman in a very huge rush today, Lady Thorne."

Kiara's own laughter in response is high-pitched and halting. She tries to hide the moistness of her palms as she makes a blind grab for the small velvet box in her purse. "Believe me, this wasn't the way I'd planned this to go at all."

Intrigued, Hana's eyes follow Kiara's hands, and her eyes widen as she recognises the familiar deep blue velvet, the embossed silver lettering on top. Argyros and Sons.

"Is that --"

"Yes," Kiara says, clearing her throat, "I'd been planning this. All week. It was going to be romantic, elaborate, I was going to sweep you off your feet. Just like I'd planned to ask you out seven months ago."

Hana lets out a watery giggle. We all know how that turned out, don't we, qīn'ài de? Kiara can almost hear her saying.

But the humour stops almost immediately when she looks at the box again, and suddenly Hana seems too still, too shocked...too far off from how Kiara hoped she would react.

Kiara lets out a deep breath, then lets the words gush out of her. She's too scared to stop, too terrified to think - the fear that she may be doing too much too soon is so overwhelming that she knows if she stops she won't be able to bring herself to do this for a long, long time to come. The humiliation would be too strong.

"I'm not one for impulse. I never have been. I've never felt comfortable with anything if I didn't have a plan for it first."

Kiara gives herself a moment to half-smile at the irony of it all. Approaching Hana Lee with a smile and a bottle of water, after that first eventful bite of a Cordonian Ruby was definitely an impulse. So were half the things she had done with Hana since. So will many, many, many of the things they may wind up doing together, if (if!) this leap of faith works in her favour.

She looks up at Hana to see if she's laughing at the memory too. She isn't. In fact, Kiara isn't even sure Hana's reacting yet to what she's saying. Perfectly still, her eyes never moving from the box, so wide that they would go bloodshot if they were widened any further. Kiara swallows, and finds that her throat feels suddenly, inexplicably sore.

"I could never tell what it was about you that changed all that. I still don't. All I know is that...around you, Hana, I feel so much more brave. To let go of the need to plan and organize. To not be too afraid of what will follow - whether it goes in my favour or not. I find myself not just willing, but eager, to trust my gut."

Kiara's eyes search every inch of Hana's face as she opens the box, revealing the ring inside. It's a gorgeous piece, all platinum and sparkling diamonds. The smaller stones form a cluster around a massive one, leading the viewer to believe they are seeing a glittering snowflake, fallen fresh from the heavens.

Kiara had known the minute she saw the ring that it was the one. That it would remind them of the first time they confessed their love. Of their very first date, of the first time they shared Hana's cup of homemade hot chocolate. Of why the two of them will always love winters.

Hana's fingers move, trembling, towards her mouth, her face suddenly flushed. She remembers it too.

"Hana Lee," A frisson of fear slithers down Kiara's spine. "Will you marry me?"

When Hana finally opens her mouth, several seconds later, Kiara has to strain to hear her voice.

"I - I -" her eyes dart away from Kiara as if she's just remembered something important - her beautiful bronzed skin suddenly a little drained of colour. The next few words, she says in a "I.... I'll be back. Give me five minutes? I...just remembered something."

She leaves without waiting for an answer.

Kiara sinks into the grass, covering her face in her hands.

What have I just done?

--

All the way back from her room in the palace to the lake, the pouch hanging from her wrist feeling only a slight bit heavier, Hana cannot stop mentally kicking herself.

"You fool! You imbecile! Bèn dàn!!" Hana curses herself as she speeds up her sprint into a run, "What happened to your tongue? What kind of reaction was that?? What will Kiara think?"

Her mind now sprints miles ahead of her feet, racing in panicked ferocity over the possibilities.

With any luck, Kiara could still be waiting - puzzled and perhaps a little worried. Or she could be actively panicking, the way she does (on very rare occasions) when a plan goes terribly wrong.

Or...or...

Hana holds the silk pouch from her wrist in a deathlike grip as she speeds up towards Lake Sôse. Or.

The thought of that lovely, open space completely devoid of Kiara, of that beguiling combination of rose and jasmine emanating from her favourite Dior J'adore perfume, makes Hana's stomach drop to her feet.

It isn't until she sees that that heartbreakingly familiar figure of Kiara's, hunched over the grass, that Hana allows herself to breathe.

Kiara is there. Shoulders bent, head buried in her hands, almost stumbling as she tries to get up when she sees Hana.

Morose. Defeated. But still there.

Without another thought, Hana rushes into Kiara's arms, almost knocking her off her feet.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," Hana whispers against her hair. "I wasn't trying to run away. I really had to get something. For you."

Kiara pulls back to look into her eyes, and when she does Hana's heart twists at the sight of unshed tears. "I thought I'd scared you off."

Hana's own laughter quavers, pitched high in disbelief. "I've just pledged myself to you this afternoon, body and soul, at the palace fountain. This -" she lifts Kiara's left hand to her chest, her thumb caressing the empty space on her beloved's ring finger " - just makes it so much more real."

Kiara's arms wrap around her, pulling Hana flush to her. Hana can feel Kiara shake as she giggles in response. "...you mean to say that I'd have saved myself so much stress if I'd just remembered those coins."

"Yes, qīn'ài de, a thousand times yes." She cups Kiara's face, pressing their foreheads together. "Place that ring where it belongs, Kiki. I can't wait to see it on my finger."

Hana holds her tight until Kiara's breathing becomes slower, calmer. She raises her newly-adorned hand for Kiara to see - marvelling at how the ring really mimics the glow of a snow crystal in the winter sun.

When they part, shyly, reluctantly, Hana begins to fiddle with the silk pouch.

"Here's what I'd gone to bring."

Kiara's eyes brighten at the sight of the box in her hand; a wave of warmth floods through Hana in anticipation of her response. Kiara gasps the minute she opens the box, revealing a delicate, intricately carved rose gold ring, flanked by small diamonds on all four corners, cradling a bigger one at the center.

"Rose gold," Kiara murmurs in wonder.

"Yes," Hana brushes her fingers over Kiara's knuckles. She'd told her once, long ago, how revered that metal was in her home province Bethulia. How Bethulian jewellers and goldsmiths and young women swore by the rosy hue it exuded. How it was a perfect amalgamation of three precious metals - all highly valued in the province. How tied it was to their folktales and bridal rituals.

"Copper..silver...gold." Kiara's tears glitter like diamonds before she lets them fall. "For friendship. For love. For belonging."

Hana smiles, her hand still stroking Kiara's cheek. "You remembered."

Kiara rolls her still-moist eyes, trying hard not to sniff - it would take out all the humour in this situation. "It's hard to forget a ritual we'd performed just ten minutes ago, ma moité."

"I'd planned to give you this ring a week from now," Hana says, shaking her head at her own impulsiveness as the ring she'd chosen on a fanciful whim so long ago, now finds its home. "I've been holding onto it for far too long."

Kiara caresses the stone on her own finger lovingly, admiring the way the rose gold glows on her skin. When she speaks, her voice is breathless in anticipation. "How long?"

For several minutes, Hana's only response is to pull Kiara back in her arms again. Her hand slides slowly, almost with a tinge of regret, down the dip of Kiara's waist on her left side. The wound that had once served as a constant, searing reminder of so much (of her vulnerability, of her inability to run from pain, of what she'd once considered her failures), has healed in more ways than one - only a faded scar that Hana never fails to kiss, now remains.

"For seven months," Hana's voice shakes at the memory, "Since the night after Homecoming Ball."

With a choked sob, Kiara enfolds Hana into her arms, almost as if she'd want to absorb her into every cell of her body. Fervently, reverently, she presses her lips all over Hana's face - her eyelids, her cheeks, the bridge of her nose, all the little-known, barely-noticed parts of her. It takes her a while - perhaps too long, in Hana's opinion - for Kiara's lips to meet hers, but she welcomes the sweet torture of waiting.

"Mon cœur," Kiara says between kisses, "ma raison de vivre."

When they part, the two women keep each other's hands interlinked, one left hand over the other. Neither of them will remember how long they stay at the lake; only that they never want this joy, this warm afterglow of seeing their dreams come true...to end.

The empty spaces on their ring fingers, over which they'd each stolen such secret, hungry glances today, now bear the mark of their lovers. Now bear the most tangible signs of their love, their memories, their promises, their commitment.

Together forever.

--

Translation:

Ma moité - a romantic endearment in French, meaning "my other half"

Qīn'ài de - Mandarin Chinese for "my dear"/"darling"

Bèn dàn - Mandarin Chinese cuss word that means "stupid egg!"

Mon cœur - French endearment, meaning "my heart"

Ma raison de vivre - French for "my reason to live"

--

References for Hana and Kiara's engagement rings:

Kiara:

(Source: Maxine Jewellery)

Hana:

(Source: This article on engagement rings, but the actual pic itself came from Blue Rose Photography)

[beneathsakurashade]

why did my favorite game turn into a dating sim? twst x gen reader (crack fic) CH: 3 Am I (20 gen) the bad guy for burning water?

CH:1 CH: 2

After agreeing on going to McMousalds with your new pookie Riddle for your first date.  You need three things,

1. money

2. dinero

3. お金

    Because there was no way you in hell that you were going to ask Mrs. Rosehearts for money, especially not for fast food.  So that’s why you’re now in Crowley’s office watching as the man in the crow mask nods along to your desperate pleas.  “Ah, young love, very well Mx. Y/N!  In my graciousness, I shall lend you some money.  Alas, it is not much, but it shall suit your needs”.  He summons a short stack of cash on the desk.  You grab the stack like you’ve never set eyes on cash before, and thank your oh so gracious Headmage before securing your money in your pockets and running out of his office to your room.  Entering your room you hide your cash in your dresser, and pull out your notebook.  The notebook that you stole from a table in the Heartslabyul lounge, someone left a perfectly good notebook on an empty table, and it wasn’t stealing if you were gonna use it…right?  Well enough about wondering who would miss their notebook, you opened it to the first page to see your list.

𝚂𝚝𝚞𝚏𝚏 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚎 <𝟹𝟹

[_] - 𝙼𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚢

[_] - 𝙵𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚢 𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚏𝚒𝚝

[_] - 𝚁𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚞𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚁𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗

[_] - 𝙰𝚕𝚎𝚛𝚝 𝚜𝚘 𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚎𝚝

[_] - 𝙷𝚊𝚝𝚜𝚞𝚗𝚎 𝙼𝚒𝚔𝚞’𝚜 𝙱𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 (𝚅𝙴𝚁𝚈 𝙸𝙼𝙿𝙾𝚁𝚃𝙰𝙽𝚃!!!)

    Okay so maybe the last thing wasn’t very important in theory, but it was important to you, and lucky for you.  The blue twin-tailed virtual idol was right beside you, in all of her plushie that you-won-from-an-arcade-that-totally-didn’t-cost-you-fifteen-bucks- glory.  For some reason that you couldn’t figure out, the night you arrived here Cater (a ginger haired instagram Magicam user junior who was definitely into his classmate Trey, you could sense it).  Brought her to you, you remembered it like it was yesterday (it was actually two days ago but your dementia is setting in-) he knocked on Riddle and your shared room door and you opened it to see a student that Riddle had talked about holding the oh so familiar Miku plushie.  “Hiya! You must be Riddle’s new partner! Hope you’re up to the job, you’re prob wondering ‘Who’s this cute stranger?’  And while I’m sure that our Housewarden has given you all the deets about me, I’m Cater Diamond, Heartslabyul junior! -he hands you Miku- This little thing was found by a student near where you came here, so the Headmage assumed that it’s yours”.  You nod and thank him “Yea, she’s mine, I can’t believe that she’s the only thing that followed me here…guess she really is the number one princess in the world…” you smile nervously “Wait, does that mean you’re phoneless?” Cater gasps, and you’re not sure why he just acted like an Apple user when you tell them that you don’t use Android, but you’re stuck with a Disney Princess phone from the late 2010’s.  

    “I have to take you to get a new phone, there’s this super fresh place that I know that sells phones for cheap!” He smiles and you think stop…there’s no Squid Sisters reference there, STOP IT! Before nodding “Gotcha, I’ll probably take you up on that Cater”.  He checks the time and sighs “Welp, it’s almost curfew, can’t have Riddle catching any of us out after it.  Hope to see you soon!” You smile and wave as he leaves.  You flash back to the present and  sit down on a chair, scooting next to your desk, checking off the Money box and turn to your plushie, staring her in the eyes.  You could’ve sworn you saw the faintest gleam in her stitched eyes before you check off the Miku’s Blessing box.  Now you just need three things, a fancy outfit, and an alert, because McMousalds doesn’t take reservations.  

    You ponder where and how to acquire a fancy outfit, the stores would probably be far too out of your budget, maybe there was a student here who liked to design outfits?  Preferably for around $30?  You sigh at your poor prospects, and grab a bit of your cash, leaving your room with a dream and a low budget.  You leave your shared room and think to yourself about how you’ve never had time to actually explore Heartslabyul, and as you wander through the many halls and staircases.  You feel more akin to Alice in Wonderland than yourself.  Well, considering Heartslabyul’s history that wouldn’t be too far off… Like a child you find yourself drawn to the comforting smell of something baking.  A cake perhaps?  Or a dozen cookies?  You walk into the dorm’s kitchen and see a tall student, short green hair and yellow eyes hidden behind glasses, dressed in the Heartslabyul uniform, whom you recognized as Trey.  You already knew about Trey Clover, but he never seemed particularly interesting, he was a simple guy from a family of bakers you had a friend who loved him though.  "Hi...um...Trey right?" you say quietly, watching as he reads a recipe.  He turns around and smiles at you "Yup, that's me.  You're Y/N right?  It's great to finally meet you, sorry I couldn't meet you earlier, my family needed me back home for a few days".  You smile "It's alright, and yea.  I was wondering...where can I buy a nice outfit for cheap?" Trey pauses and looks away from the recipe, "Nice outfit for cheap...I have a friend who might be able to help you".

    What Trey didn't mention about his friend was that his friend was Vil Schoenheit.  A literal celebrity.  How and why the actual fuck did you keep meeting pretty people?  Wait...you could use these connections...hehe.  Wait, no, you have to get that outfit, don't get distracted.  You sit across from Vil in Pomefiore's lounge, fidgeting nervously with your fingers as the blonde, purple-eyed celebrity stares at you with disdain.  A friend of yours who had no idea what Twisted Wonderland was, called the Pomefiore trio, Vil, Rook, and Epel the Plastics.  Which was quite funny you had to admit.  But what isn't funny is this perfect faced, stunning guy staring you up and down like you're some roach that he came across on the sidewalk.  "This.  This is all that you can afford for your outfit? Thirty thaumarks?  How in the Sevens do you expect to impress your date?  Are you going to eat at a fast food place at the corner of the street as well?" he scoffs, practically offended that you brought such a measly amount in his presence.  "My bad, I wasn't expecting Crowley to be so fucking cheap- you pause as he glares at you and mutters something about what crude language- so flipping cheap, that he only gave me thirty for an outfit.  Also uh...no, we're going to a very nice place...trust".  Vil bites back a remark and sighs "Very well then, I'll buy you an outfit.  Consider it one of my gifts for your future wedding".  The two of you rise from your seats and you smile excitedly "Ohh am I gonna get some Gucci?  Or maybe some Prada?  Shi-I mean shoot, maybe even some Dior..." he shoots you a glare "Do not push it Y/N... How I pity Riddle".  The two of you walk to the front of the school, "Are we gonna have a Disney channel movie style makeover?" you say excited "I have no idea what that is".  He responds, muttering something about feeling like a mother with an overly hyper child.

    You two arrive at a store stocked with luxury brands that you don't recognize, the cheapest item that you can find is a couple hundred thaumarks.  You walk around the store while Vil shops and discusses things with the employees.  You stare curiously at the wallets, until you're tugged away to a dressing room by Vil.  Cue the trying outfits montage.  You leave the store in around two hours as your total adds up to a total of thirty thaumarks.  Holding your bags full of clothes, you say "How did you manage to get all this for thirty thaumarks?" he responds "Simple, my father and I frequent that store.  So the employees curry to our favor.  Also, I consider getting you that outfit my good deed for today".  You blank "that sound's like it's supposed to offend me in some way...".

    You text Riddle while you're in your room prepping for the date. 

my pookie ❤️

Y/N is online

Y/N: yooooo wsg?

Riddle is online

Riddle: Hello, pardon me, but what is 'wsg'?

Y/N: whats good 😌

Riddle: I see, well, I am doing well. Thank you for asking.

Y/N: np <33

Riddle: Np?

Y/N: it means no problem ^^

Riddle: Oh, thank you.

Y/N: yea, anyways, i've got a fit for our date. i'm boutta be all dripped out. on skibidi 😌

Riddle: I'm not even going to attempt to translate that.

Y/N: iykyk

Riddle: ?

Y/N: if u know u know >:D

Riddle: Oh :o

Y/N: omg chat Riddle finally learned how to use emoticons 😨

Riddle: Cater showed me a few :).

Y/N: my boy is learning so fast, i'm so proud 😭✋

Riddle: Thank you?

Y/N: anyways i gtg, so ttyl pookie be ready by uh...5:30 p.m. >:3

Riddle: Alright, I shall be ready by that time :D.

Y/N: luv u <333

Riddle: ...

Y/N: did i say smthn wrong? 😭

Riddle: No... but, thank you

Riddle has gone offline

Y/N: tf just happened? 😭

Y/N has gone offline

    You wonder what you said to make him go offline so suddenly.  You tell all your friends that you love them, what made him suddenly leave?  Was it that no one ever said they loved him?  That was probably it... in any case you were all ready for your date.  The time was five o'clock, so that gave you time to kill, as you were already dressed in your outfit.  The anticipation was killing you. 

A/N: heyaa everyonee, here's the latest chapter, guys i promise the date scene is coming soon. KY is still going under some revisions, so i made this chapter a little longer as a present for u all <33. chat, i love riddle sm he's so cuteee (づ_ど). also help me plz, my sis is making me listen to every stray kids song 😭🙏

here's the miku plushie image, or like, u can imagine whatever Miku plushie u want idrc lol

[mysticstarlightduck]

Out of Context Line SnippetTag!

Thanks for the tag, @willtheweaver (here)! I'll go with a snippet instead of a line because I really like this one!

From The Forgotten Ones Ch.1!

"Our House has stood for centuries. What right has that army over our people?" Vivaldah protested, gesturing towards the window. Beyond it, on the courtyard below, stood the heralds of the foreign Inquisition. Invaders in their land, as far as she was concerned.

Lady Noemie, standing in front of the mirror, did not turn around. Instead, she coldly adjusted the tiara upon her own brow as she answered, pragmatic "None. But they have the power to wash our fields away with the blood of our people. And that is something I will not allow."

Vivaldah glared at her sister's reflection "So you will marry the enemy? That idea is worse than surrendering. That's letting them win."

Noemie remained unfazed, and after analyzing her attire for a moment more, she finally moved, dress chiming like a million sharp diamonds as she walked. Vivaldah had never seen her look this frigidly determined.

The Queen, her sister, placed a hand on her shoulder, "And letting them win is the only way our people will live, Viva. Has the fall of House Velinad taught you nothing? Times have changed."

"At least the Velinads died fighting." Vivaldah rebuked through gritted teeth, though her voice betrayed more sadness than anger.

Tagging (gently): @your-absent-father @ray-writes-n-shit @diabolical-blue, @saltysupercomputer @agirlandherquill

@sleepy-night-child, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @smol-feralgremlin, @oh-no-another-idea, @littleladymab,

@winterandwords, @cowboybrunch, @eccaiia, @sarahlizziewrites, @illarian-rambling

@agirlandherquill, @anoelleart @sm-writes-chaos

@leave-her-a-tome, @writernopal, @anyablackwood, @unstablewifiaccess, @forthesanityofstorytellers

@i-can-even-burn-salad, @cakeinthevoid

@lassiesandiego, @thepeculiarbird, @clairelsonao3, @memento-morri-writes, @starlit-hopes-and-dreams and OPEN TAG

[lostfirefly]

Life Must Have It's Mysteries (Ch.1)

Nobody asked me, but the thought of sending my beloved couple on a new journey didn't let me go. Welcome to a new adventure! No idea how many chapters there will be :)

English is not my native language, errors may occur. As always, feel free to share your thoughts :) Masterlist is here.

Description: Catherine returns to Cairo after a short trip to her sister. One evening she had dinner with her childhood friend, her sister, and her boyfriend, who told her about the legend of a blue diamond hidden in the Egyptian pyramids..

Warnings: Fun, fluff.

Words: 2195

Buggy x OC from my “You’ve Got the Same Dream as Me” series.

Taglist: @gingernut1314, @operationroots (if you want to be added on the list, feel free to lmk!)

The title is taken from "Life Must Have It's Mysteries" by Hans Zimmer (OST Inferno).

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Ladies and gentlemen, the Loguetown-Cairo flight has landed at the international airport of Cairo. Thank you for choosing our airlines. 

Catherine quickly got up from her seat, picked up her bag and was about to run out the plane, but an old lady in front of her was extremely slow in getting ready to leave. 

"Excuse me, mam, maybe I can help you?" Catherine gently tapped the woman's back with her finger.

"No thank you, sweetheart, I'm used to doing everything myself." In a polite but slightly husky voice the woman replied. 

"I just really need to go. Let me help you!" She grabbed the woman's bag.

"I said I'll do it myself!"

"Fuck!" Catherine saw that the front row of passengers had already gotten off.

“Alright!” She slung her bag over her shoulder, climbed over the seat that was next to the woman and quickly rushed to the exit. “Sorry-y-y-y!”

Catherine tried to walk through the airport pavilion calmly but she was having trouble doing it. She also tried to hide her happy face and not to push everyone away with her hands. 

"God, why are you all walking so slowly!!" She muttered.

The door to the arrival hall opened and after that Catherine didn’t remember anything else. She only remembered how she threw her bag on the floor and rushed towards her beloved clown. Waving her arms happily above her head, squealing “my Buggy Be-e-a-ar”, with a big smile on her face, she jumped on him and hugged him with her legs and arms.

"Hi! Hi! Hi! Hi!" She pecked him on the lips several times.

"Cotton candy, you're gonna suffocate me." Buggy wrapped his hands around her waist. 

"I don't care!" Smack. Smack. Smack. “I was gone for four whole days!” Smack. Smack. Smack. “I won't go anywhere without you again.” Smack. Smack. Smack.

“I hope you missed it too. Because you're all covered with my lipstick again.” He started laughing. 

“Shit!” Catherine wiped her lips with her palm. “It's time for me to get used to this.”

She hugged him tightly, kissed his temple three times and looked into his eyes. "My silly clown..." 

"I'm listening, my Cathie-pie." 

"Take me home, please."

While they were driving home, Catherine could not calm down. Actively gesturing she told him the latest news, asked how Buggy lived without her, whether he missed her, how his circus was and what was new in Cairo.

"So what happened with your sister?" Buggy asked as he carried Catherine's bag home.

“It turned out that she just had a fight with Ethan. Honestly, I thought there was some kind of tragedy when she called me in tears. But they made up pretty quickly, so my trip to her turned out to be almost pointless.” 

Catherine walked up to Buggy and hugged him tightly. "I missed you so much, my Buggy Bear."

“No. I can't. It's still a terrible terrible nickname, my Cathie-pie.” He hugged her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. 

Catherine heard him barely say, "I missed you too."

"I still don't care. I’m not gonna change it.” Catherine pecked him in his lips and pulled his cheeks. “By the way, we spoke about you too. Everyone was curious about our relationship. But don’t be afraid, I said only good things. And my sister and I also had a girl talk about you.”

“I’m flattered by such a high assessment of my person.” He took and kissed her hand, and led Catherine into the living room.

“Jackass. Let me quickly take a shower and then I’ll cook us something to eat. You’re probably hungry.”

"Actually, I bought us Chinese food and your favorite wine."

“Wow! I’m impressed, Buggy the Clown! You're growing! You’re learning to take care of yourself.” She giggled and pressed her head against his chest. 

“Oh, screw you! I lived somehow before you. But I have to admit, you take care of me much better, you know.” 

She wrapped her arms around his neck and looked into his eyes. “I have no doubt about that. You would probably be dead without me. At least now you've learned how to wash your socks.” 

“Little shit.” 

“Did I tell you that you are my best and I love you so so much?”

"Nope. Hear it for the first time."

Catherine quickly showered and returned to the living room. Chilled wine and packages of Chinese food were already waiting for her on the table. 

“God! It's so great to be back home.” She looked at Buggy. “Why are you smiling?”

"I really missed your ass, but I also really missed your funny pajama pants. Dinosaurs? Seriously?" He pointed at her new pants.

"Oh, shut up! I liked them. By the way, I brought you a gift." 

“The gift? For me?" 

"Of course! Why are you so surprised? I couldn't leave my Buggy Bear without the gift." She ran to the bedroom and returned with some sheets, a bottle and a box in her hands. "The best whiskey from Loguetown and a box of chocolates for my sweet tooth." She gave him a few pecks on the lips and plopped down on the sofa. 

"Wow! Thanks, my cotton candy!” He kissed her cheek. “I've never gotten the present before..”

"What? This is terrible!" She knelt on the couch and kissed him on the cheek. "Well, now you have me, lucky bastard."

“What's that in your hands?" He pointed at the sheets of paper as he opened a bottle of whiskey.

“Oh, this... Yes, it’s nonsense. Or maybe it’s not nonsense. Well, we went to dinner with my sister, Ethan and one of my childhood friends. We met him suddenly.” She glanced at Buggy and noticed how his face changed.

"Friend? Male? Did you go out.. with.. him...?"

"What do you mean? A date? Yes, I did."

"Okay..." Buggy tried to appear as calm as possible.

“Once we went to an ice cream cafe and he also brought me dandelions.”

She run her hand through Buggy's hair.

"Okay..."

"Someone is jealo-o-ous!" She kissed him on the cheek.

"I'm not jealous!"

"Before you run to strangle this poor guy, I can tell you that when he asked me out we were seven years old. So, back to the sheets. My sister and I talked about our fun trip. And while we were talking that friend and Ethan mentioned a myth or rumor.. I don't actually know.. about some kind of treasure, hidden somewhere in the Egyptian pyramids. I was interested in this and the next day I went to my old job in the library and rummaged a little in the archives. I made copies but there is no direct evidence in them that anything exists at all. And.. Why are you smiling again, clown? "

“I just can’t believe it. My little Cathie-pie is rummaging through the archives and looking for information about treasures. You really liked our previous adventure, right? Admit it!”

"Go fuck yourself, asshole. I'm not telling you anything else." Catherine took the wine and turned away. 

"Come on! Come here, baby. Tell me more." Buggy put his arm around her shoulders and cuddled closer. 

"I won't, you're mocking me." 

"I'm not mocking you. I find it very sexy, by the way.” He kissed her temple. 

“I hate you. So.. I studied the copies all the way on the plane, but I can’t definitely confirm whether there’s something in these places or not.” She fiddled with the sheets of paper in her hands and put them aside on the couch. "I think maybe I'll go to the local library tomorrow. Just for fun."

"You know, I know another way to have fun and you don't have to wait until tomorrow!" Buggy stood up from the couch, grabbed Catherine in his arms and carried her into the bedroom.

“What are you doing?! Let me go!!” She slapped his hands.

“Baby, I’m going to do what I haven’t done with you for four whole days. I hope you survive until the morning.” He laughed like a maniac.

"Damn you and your chop chop abilities!"

⥫⥫⥫⥫⥫⥫⥫⥫⥫⥫⥫⥫⥫⥫⥫⥫⥫⥫⥫⥭⥭⥭⥭⥭⥭⥭⥭⥭⥭⥭⥭⥭⥭⥭⥭⥭⥭

"You're going to make me lose the ability to walk someday, fucking clown." Catherine woke up in the morning and put her head on his chest. She took one of the strands of his hair and began to twirl it around her finger. “Do me a favor, send your hand for your t-shirt, because I can't get out from under the blanket naked."

"Who told you that? I'll be glad to see you like this." Buggy began to move his hands down to her buttocks.

"Go to hell, honestly! First, I have manners! Second, stop grabbing my ass, Buggy!” Catherine looked at her hands and shoulders. “Fuck, I need to take a shower. Because someone left red lipstick marks all over my body and even... God, I can’t even talk about it. You've completely ruined me.” 

“You didn’t complain throughout the night, cotton candy. And especially those three times when my tongue was between your..” Buggy ran his hand in circles on her back. 

“Ts!” She covered his mouth with her hand and glanced at him with squinted eyes.  

“That was re-e-a-ally good, right?” He muttered into her palm and winked.

“I hate you!”

Catherine barely fought off Buggy, who seemed to want to give her another hot round, grabbed his t-shirt and ran into the bathroom. 

After breakfast she changed into jeans and a t-shirt, grabbed her crossbody bag, accompanied Buggy to the circus, kissed him on his lips and went to the library.

Catherine sat in the library for half a day, sorting through old dusty books and papers. She asked the library employee what other materials she could read. The gray-haired woman sincerely did not understand why Catherine was interested in this story. She mentioned that she had heard something, but she assured her that it was just a myth that was invented for fools who were simply thirsty for adventure.

"Why do you need this, dear girl?" The woman asked her while Catherine was copying some notes. "You don't look like the kind of person who leaves everything behind to go somewhere far away to find something."

Catherine didn't know how not to laugh, remembering how she once left everything behind to go in search of her sister and how that search ended.

"I just love reading books. Myths, legends. All this is terribly fascinating." Catherine shrugged and smiled.

“You should get married, not read books!” The woman rasped in her voice.

"Thanks for your advice, I'll definitely use it!"

Catherine put the papers in her bag and went home. On the way, she stopped at a couple of bakeries, muttering under her breath that "it will be better if Buggy fill his mouth with donuts and fucking Cinnabons. Otherwise I'm done."

She returned home when no one was there yet. Catherine was drinking coffee when she heard the keys jingle in the keyhole.

She jumped up and ran to the front door.

"Finally, you're home! I went to the library and..."

Buggy shut Catherine up with a kiss. "First of all, hi!"

"Hi!" She kissed him on the nose and dragged him into the living room. "So, I went to the library..."

"Baby, give it back."

Catherine heard Buggy's voice behind her.

"Give.. what?" She looked at him blankly.

He pointed his finger at her hand. Catherine looked down and started laughing. She held his hand in hers.

"Damn, sorry! Take it." 

“Thank God you didn’t pull me for something else.” He laughed loudly and pointed at his pants.

"Oh my god! You're disgusting!"

Catherine led Buggy into the living room and quickly ran to the kitchen to grab whiskey, dinner and donuts.

“Anyway, I dug through the papers at the library here and found out that all this history I've been told about and written about in some of the books I looked at today lead back to the story of some blue diamond." She walked from side to side, actively gesticulating. 

Buggy moved his head after Catherine.

“It doesn’t give you superpowers, of course. But we can get good money for it. But there’s no map. Everywhere it’s indicated that it’s somewhere in a pyramid. But there are a thousand pyramids in Egypt. It would take us our whole lives to double-check them all." She sat down on the floor, crossing her legs.

“Theoretically, I know one person who can tell us the way. Or maybe even knows where we can get the map.” Buggy said, taking a sip of his whiskey and leaning back on the couch.

“Is this your gray-haired man from the desert?” She mumbled, placing her hands on her leg and her chin on her palms. "Wait. What do you mean “tell”? And what do you mean “us”?" She bulged her eyes at him.

"Well, let's try!" Buggy shrugged.

"Are you serious?" 

"Yeah. Why not?” He leaned towards Catherine while sitting on the couch.

"Just you and me?" Catherine pointed at them both.

"Just you and me."

"This means…?"

"This means, baby, that we are going to look for the blue diamond!"

[teezersfics]

Journey To Wonderland

˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚masterlist˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚

Synopsis : The pirates of Ignim, known as notorious pirates have decided to set the sail to a magical island called Wonderland, where they hope to acquire magical powers and their lost childhood memories. But, they are troubled by their lack of information about the route and amongst this they stumble upon a girl who knows the route to Wonderland and is willing to help. What happens next in the story is for you to find out........

Genere : Fantasy, Royalty, Pirate

Pairing : Secret

Prolouge / Ch.1 / Ch.2

Chapter 1 : Destiny

Birds chirping, golden sun rays hitting her face, wind carrying the coldness with it. It's is the start of the summer.

She walks around following her daily morning routine, but she is more happier today because of visible climate change. She is so ready to welcome summer. As always. Picnics on beach will be more often now, more contact with sea. Her curiosity.

It's time to decide which new recipe she will try today. 'Maybe some experiment with apples today' she thinks to herself and decides on it. Taking a small, empty fruit basket with her, she locks the home and goes on a hunt for fresh, juicy apples. And she exactly knows where she can get those.

Her steps take her to a very familiar location. A old woman smiles as soon as she see the young charming lady visiting her. "Oh, you are here!" The old lady says. "Yes."

"You want anything?" The old lady asks yo the girl. "Oh come on. Is it important that I should visit you only if I have work? I came here to help you. And yes, I will also be needing some apples which I will buy while going home." " So, you will really buy from your own shop?" The old woman asks in rethorical way.

"It's not mine grandma. You really work hard for this. I don't think I should take fruits for free just because we are close. And, don't I always tell you this?" "Okay, okay. I can never win against young blood, can I ?" They both laugh at this.

As you are returning home, you saw him outside your house. Seokhun, Mayor's son. A real pain in ass. He always comes to your house with the reason of collecting the rent, but no, he is not here just for that. He has two more people with him. Ever since you have started living on rent in their house, he has always tried to get with you. It's just enough at this point. You can't handle him now. Recently his actions has become more worst, he tries to hold your hands, tries to kiss you, etc. At this point, it's all harrasment. But you can't do anything, no one will listen to you. You don't want to ho home anymore so you turn back.

Just strolling around the town, the thought of Seokhun crosses your mind again. You can't continue to live in that house like that. But the fact that you won't get any house in as cheap rent anywhere bothers you.

As you are walking on a road alongside the beach, something catches your eyes. Beomgyu??? With a girl??? Oh no, he is at it again. You facepalm. Just when he also looks at you and there is a "screwed up" look on his face. He wastes no time and run to you for an explanation. Basically Beomgyu is your childhood friend. He was the one who found you first.

It was almost 11 years ago when you were found passed out on the shore of Ohnoj. Beomgyu was playing on island when he saw you laying on the sand. He came to you, trued to wake you up, but no answer from you. He suddenly called Grandma Hwang. Well, she is not Beomgyu's grandma but she is preety known in town. She has always been living alone. She came and took you to her.

When you woke up, you didn't knew anything, you just knew your name. Park Jaehwa. That's all you knew. And they only thing related to your past was your silver chain with a blue diamond pendant and some complex carvings on the silver around it. On the backside of it the initials of your name were carved "P.J". And nothing much. Though you get some occasional flashbacks about your past, but only when you do something you used to do before. It does hurt your head. You grew up with Grandma Hwang, and Beomgyu has been by your side since then. They took very good care of you. Later on you moved to other house just because you thought you were being a burden for Grandma and started a bakery in your house. When you were found, they estimated your age was around 12-13, according to that you are probably 23-24 now.

But something always keeps telling you that you don't belong here. Whenever you are at sea, it feels like the wind is pulling you towards sea, a voice, not audible but only in your head, tells you that someone else needs you, someone that is on the other side of the horizon. You desire of crossing the sea is more stronger than anything else.

Beomgyu jogs and stands right in front of you. "You are with a new girl, Again??" You ask putting stress on "again". He scratches his nape.

"Umm, Jaehwa, believe me, I am not playing with this girl."

"And?? As if I have not heard this from you before."

"No no, for real. I am definitely not playing with her."

"Mind telling me her name."

"Oh, her name is Bora"

"Oh, so, she is Bora??"

"Yup, I told you right, my long time crush, I am finally deciding to confess to her."

"I am gonna beat your ass if I find out that you are playing with her too. I have told you before, many times, that it's not a good thing."

"But, I don't do it anymore. Believe your brother, will you?"

"Okay" you deadpan. "But, remember my words."

He does a salute, "Yes, ma'am." and runs off back to her.

You smile to yourself seeing that he is finally getting with his crush of years.

You don't want to spoil his mood by telling your problem to him now. Seokhun will probably leave after sometime. How much time is he going to wait in front of a locked door.

As you are walking alongside the beach you hear someone talking about pirates. There were two men sitting in a open wooden shed. You were at the backside of the shed, but you could still hear then through the slots between the wooden planks.

"Pirates like them have stepped on our island. Are they going to loot us all??" Man one says terrified.

"Yeah, what if they kill us?" Another man says.

"I heard the worst. Those are not just any pirates. They are the Destiny's crew."

"What?!!! The young pirate king? I have heard alot about them."

"They are so young. But merciless. I have heard that their eyes don't shine at all, they just look so dark."

"I can't feel the atmosphere change from the time they have come."

"Does mayor knows about this? We should not let them stop at our land, or ready troops for a fight. These pirates are-"

They are cut by someone's deep, intimidating voice.

"These pirates are, what? You were saying something?"

That man asks but no answer from first two men.

""If you are so terrified to talk about pirates, why do you even talk about them then?" Another man with crystal clear voice says.

You still couldn't here anything from first two men.

"You were saying something about banning those pirates from your island, right?"

There is a pause.

"Well, for your information, no one can tell us what to do or where to stop. We do whatever we want, understood?"

Your hand flies to your mouth. Right on the other side there are crew of Destiny who caught those two men gossiping about them. You get it why those two men terrified to speak.

You tried to poke your eye from the slit in the wood. You catch a slight glimpse of them,they wore something that you have never ever seen anyone wearing. Even though you can't see properly, you try to observe the taller man, but when you look at his face with a blank expression, you feel goosebumps on your whole body. You try to find his eyes, but just then he looks exactly at you. Your soul almost left your body. You back away and crouch down keeping a hand on your heart.

Even though there was a whole wooden wall between you and them, you still felt he could watch you. 'How did his eyes directly dart at the thin slit? Did they see me?' You think. But you hear their steps fading away in the sand.

All that you heard just made you more and more curious. The people you have been hearing about for years are so close but you just can't gain enough courage to face them. You are just walking absentmindedly when another gossip alongside road catches your attention. You slow your steps down to listen.

"Those pirates are hiring some people according to what I heard."

"They are not here to loot us??"

"No, that's strange behaviour for pirates but I heard they are not here for loot."

"According to me, an insane person would ever think of joining that ship."

'Hiring crew?' You think. From where you are, you can only see the faint silhouette of the big ship standing little away from the shore, in the waters. But you are so curious to know more about it. You decide to ask about your doubts to a person sitting near the Dock.

"Excuse me. Can I ask you something about those pirates?"

His eyes shot up to you.

"Hey, keep your voice low when you speak about Destiny crew."

He warns, and you just nod.

"Can you tell me why are they here?"

"I heard they are here for hiring and this news is confirmed. They have told to gather near ship to all those who are interested to join the crew in sometime."

"But we have never had any pirate on our land and suddenly them."

"You know, they are not just any pirates. They don't follow anyone's rules."

You pause.

"But why are they hiring from random islands or countries? I have heard that they have their own organisations or some sources that provide crew."

"That ain't compulsory."

There is a pause again. But the man motions you to come closer, and you do.

"I have a exclusive information, but, don't tell anyone." He looks on his left and right, confirming there is no one else.

"I heard they are going to a place from that fairytale. They can't properly find the way to the place. You know, Wonderland...."

As soon as you hear Wonderland, it feels like everything stopped. The man is still speaking but his voice fades. There is a loud beep ringing in your ears and multiple images of certain something flashes in front of your eyes. Sea, ship, mountain, some glowing things, etc. But the last image lasted longer, big white gates. That's all. You clutch your head.

"Hey lady, are you okay?"

You look at him.

"I- I am fine. But, but are you sure whatever you have heard is right?"

"Yes, I overheard a crew talking about it."

"Okay. Thank you."

You step away from the man and breathe deeply. 'What was that?' You think.

You step in sand, looking at the sea. The feeling that you get, again. Someone calling from the horizon. The sudden strong wind makes your hair sway. You exhale. You turn your head to look at the ship again and think, "Is this it?"

Without thinking for a second time, you are already walking towards Destiny. There are already some people standing in front of the ship and a tall man standing in front of them. It's the man from earlier, with the deep voice.

Some people are standing in line, you just stand at the very end not know what to

do. From what you heard, he is the Quartermaster of the ship.

"I can sew, master."

"We already have enough tailors on our ship. No need of another. Rejected."

Just like his sharp features, he is also sharp with his words.

"Next, what do you have?"

"I- I can cook, master." Another one says with his head down.

"Again, we have enough cooks."

He says annoyed.

Just like that, many people get rejected and only few get selected. Only those, who could fight, and those are all men. He stands in front of you, asking you.

"What about you?"

You are just standing there confused, you haven't even decides if you should get on the ship or not.

"I- I-."

He raises his eyebrows.

"I can, umm. I can clean."

"We have got enough people for that."

Before he walks of, you stop him. You don't even know why you are doing this.

"I can, manage any stuff if you want me to."

He doesn't listen and just keeps walking. You are chasing behind him.

"I know the way to Wonderland."

Your hand flies to your mouth not knowing why you said that. He stops dead in his track. You are shocked by yourself. He turns back and squints his eyes. You remove you remove the hand from your mouth and look directly at him. You gulped. He takes one look at you, from down to up, at your face hand then he speaks.

"On the ship, before sun touches the horizon. Otherwise, forget it. " This is the only thing he says and walks away.

Chapter 2 : On-board