#especially the vigorous scrubbing i had to do for this one pot that made me wanna throw myself into the void

[stormbreaker-290]

Ogh my poor wrists

[asthmark]

❝ 10 things i know about you ❞ l.jn

synopsis → there are ten important things you learn about lee jeno during your time in quarantine.

request → “if you're still accepting requests, can u make a domestic roommate!jeno? 🥺🥺 thank you and have a nice dayyy”

word count → 7.1k (bruhhh)

sharing an apartment with lee jeno isn’t ideal.

it’s not that he’s a lousy roommate or that you disliked him in any way; you just didn’t know him. you had first met through a mutual friend. they knew jeno was looking for someone to split rent with and that you happened to need a place to stay. they promised you he would give you privacy and assured jeno you were excellent roommate material. with that, arrangements were made and soon enough you moved in together. of course, it was a bit awkward at first but you two eventually got used to each other’s presence. although you were never in the same room for too long and oftentimes went days without speaking, you coexisted.

for a long time, you only knew a couple things about your roommate. for example, you were aware of his strong love for cats, especially his pet calico, seol. you also knew he kept the freezer stocked with pizza rolls that he would use as energy when he stayed up all night playing video games.

what you didn’t know, however, was that you would be spending the next couple months locked in your apartment with him. on top of that, you would begin to learn more things about him—his life, his personality, his feelings.

there are ten important things you learn about lee jeno during your time in quarantine.

       1. he’s a heavy sleeper.

at 10:28 in the morning you find yourself seated at the dining table in the kitchen, spooning froot loops into your mouth. as you stuff your face, you scroll through your phone for entertainment. you decide to open instagram first but you quickly find that to be a mistake. as soon as you open the app a picture of lucas and who you thought was his ex-girlfriend greets you. if that was bad, the caption hits you like a ton of bricks.

@lucas_xx444: should have never left you

in only five words, lucas has completely erased the months you spent dating. it meant nothing to him. sure, things hadn’t ended things the best way but going right back to his toxic ex and even admitting to missing her—now that was a new low. was this his way of getting back at you? his way of making you hurt just like he had throughout your entire relationship? the thought alone leaves you feeling sick.

you decide you’ve already had enough social media for one morning so you decide to check your messages instead. your friends usually left a couple of them overnight. to your surprise, you find that your main group chat has accumulated 241 messages.

[10:48 am] you: good morning i see u guys have been vry chatty

[10:49 am] yeji: ur finally awake!

[10:50 am] yuna: we thought u died lol

[10:50 am] lia: YUNA

[10:50 am] lia: NO

[10:51 am] ryujin: the timing for that joke could not be worse

[10:52 am] yuna: humor is my coping mechanism leave me alone

[10:52 am] you: ??? what happened

[10:53 am] chaeryeong: we left msgs for a reason dummy read them!!

[10:53 am] you: umm there’s over 200 and im not abouta read all that

[10:54 am] yuna: well then lemme break it down

[10:54 am] yuna: the world is ending :)

[10:55 am] you: welp it was about time

[10:55 am] lia: why r u guys like this

[10:56 am] yeji: there’s been a covid-19 outbreak and it’s spreading like wildfire so the government issued a stay at home order :/

[10:57 am] you: omg WHAT

[10:57 am] ryujin: ikr it’s crazy we literally can’t go anywhere

[10:57 am] chaeryeong: and we can’t get boba today either ;( i was so looking forward to that

[10:58 am] ryujin: let’s pls take a moment of silence for all the current and future boba dates that will have to be cancelled

[10:59 am] yuna: no way am i gonna let some wannabe flu make me go boba-less i’m still going out >:(

[10:59 am] lia: ...ur joking right

[10:59 am] yeji: what color casket do u want yuna?

before the groupchat can distract you any further, you place your phone down on the table. you sit back in your chair and let the newly revealed information sink in.

you were stuck inside.

you sigh before standing to clean your dishes. as you’re scrubbing away at your bowl, you feel something brush against your leg. you smile, not even having to look down to know it was seol. the cat would often wander into your room or sleep next to you when you watched tv on the couch. in fact, you were pretty sure you spent more time with seol than his owner.

you gaze at jeno’s room. as always, the door is shut. you wonder if you should let him know what was happening. you two usually kept your distance but you figured that the circumstance you found yourself in was an exception. you quickly dry your hand and shuffle towards his room.

you knock once, quite softly. you assume he’s asleep so you try again, this time a little harder. still, no avail. the third time you put even more force into it. by this time, seol has found his way beside you and claws at the door.

“jeno?” you knock a fourth time. “jeno! lee jeno!”

after more shouting accompanied by incessant meowing, you hear some muffled movement. moments later the door knob twists open and there stands your roommate with disheveled hair and a robe that had obviously just been thrown on his body. seol has taken the open crack in the door as an invitation inside the bedroom.

jeno blinks a couple times as he watches the feline get himself comfortable on his bed. he turns back to you, looking slightly disoriented. you’re not sure if he’s half asleep or your sudden presence has thrown him for a loop. his voice comes out raspy when he asks, “was he, um, bothering you or something?”

you shake your head, vigorously. “that’s not why i came. it’s just that my friends told me that there’s been some kind of virus outbreak and we’re supposed to stay home. so, i thought i’d let you know.”

his face softens. “oh, cool.” suddenly, the look changes. “not the virus thing! that’s totally not cool. i meant, it’s cool that you let me know and stuff. you just saved me a huge freak out so, uh, thank you.”

you smile and nod. “no problem.”

jeno’s eyes linger as you retreat back into your room down the hall. the sound of his door shutting is heard only once you’re out of his eyesight.

   2.    he can cook better than you.

most of the time, you would go out to eat dinner with your friends in the evenings or at least stop by a drive thru. obviously, this was no longer possible in the midst of a pandemic. you found that to be incredibly frustrating as you sat on your bed, stomach empty. no matter how badly you wished to fix it, your laziness had gotten the best of you. apart from that, you already knew how unlucky you were when it came to cooking—the memory of burning noodles at lia’s house one night had been permanently seared into your brain.

you almost believe your mind is playing tricks on you when you catch a whiff of pasta in the air. for a moment you think it’s your next door neighbor, taeyong, cooking again. you knew he was quite the chef. but, the smell is getting stronger by the second and you decide it must be in your apartment.

you wander into the kitchen, only to find jeno standing over the stove. he’s stirring red sauce in a pot when he notices you watching him.

“oh, hey,” he greets with a polite wave.

you can only stare at the rest of the kitchen—pots, pans, and ingredients all over the place—in utter awe.

he chuckles, awkwardly. “yeah, sorry about the mess. i’ve been told i’m a decent cook but i can never seem to get the tidiness down.”  

“no, it’s not that. this just all seems so... professional.” you sniff the air once more. “smells amazing, too.”

he smiles, sheepishly. “thanks. are you a fan of spaghetti?”

you nod.

“good. i wanted to make something you’d like.”

“you really didn’t have to,” you say, leaning against the fridge. “i mean, i’ve never done anything for you.”

he uncovers a pot to check on the pasta. you watch as hot steam rises out of it. “what about this morning?”

you can’t help but laugh. “that most certainly does not count. you’re making an entire meal. that takes a lot of effort.”

he waves a hand, dismissively. “i used to cook a lot with my old roommate, doyoung. the guy was an asian gordon ramsey, i swear. so, yeah, this is nothing too crazy. and i really do enjoy it.”

“well, i’m still gonna repay you.” you fold your arms.

he looks away from his dish to raise a brow. “is that so?”

you nod in confirmation. “definitely.”

“tell you what, if you wash the mountain of dishes that are gonna be left over, we’ll be even.”

you stare at the sink that’s already overflowing with dirty kitchen tools. that wasn’t even half of it. “uh, sure, sounds good.”

he laughs at hearing the uncertainty in your voice. “that’s the spirit.”

   3.    he’s allergic to cats.

the familiar sound of soft purring is what pulls you attention away from the movie playing on your laptop. already knowing exactly who it is, you launch yourself off your bed to allow your furry guest inside.  

“hey seol. what’ve you been up to?”

the calico meows, almost as if he were responding to your question. you close your door and go back to your original position. you notice seol sitting directly in front of your bed, looking up at you with wide eyes.

“come on up.” you pat your sheets, invitingly.

he obeys and stretches before laying down beside you.

“have you ever watched ‘avengers’?” you ask, eyes going back to the explosive fight scene on the screen.

this time, seol doesn’t even bother humoring you with a meow. he stays silent with his head tucked into his paws.

you scratch his head and his tail wiggles. “i’ve gotta stop asking you questions.”

both you and seol’s heads snap towards the door when you hear a knock.

“come in!” you call out.  

jeno swings open the door. his eyes briefly scan the room before landing on the furball on your bed. the unmistakable look of adoration shines in his eyes when he sees how lovingly you caress him.

“seol! what are you doing in here? bothering y/n?” the cat jumps off your bed and towards his owner standing in your doorway. jeno scoops him into his arms and faces you. “i’m so sorry. he saw me running a bath for him and bolted.”

“it’s all good. he’s a great movie buddy. besides, i could always use the company.”

jeno curiously glances at your computer screen. “is that ‘avengers’?”

“yep. i’ve seen it like a dozen times.”

“same here.“ he pauses. “hey, if you ever need a movie buddy—like you know, one that talks—just let me know.”

your face lights up. “i’m gonna hold you to that.”

”i hope so. well, if you’ll excuse me, i’ve gotta give this guy a bath.”

seol yowls as if he understands the meaning behind the words and attempts to escape jeno’s grip.    

“here we go again,” he mumbles under his breath.

you snicker at the sight. “looks like you could use some help.”

“oh, no. it’s fine. he can just be a little bratty someti—seol!”

in the blink of an eye, the feline has successfully hopped out of his arms and made a run for it.

jeno gives you an exasperated look before rushing off to catch his runway pet. you find yourself caught up in the excitement so you follow him, the two of you now in pursuit of the calico. you’re sure the image of you both chasing the fluffy animal around the apartment looks like something straight out of a comedy. even you and jeno can’t contain your laughter when he finally catches seol only for him to slip out of his hold a second later. this exact situation repeats itself a couple times before you finally get lucky.

“i got him!” you screech. “jeno! oh my god! what do i do?”

“bathroom, bathroom, bathroom!” he chants in response.

you head in that direction with jeno trailing behind you, ready to catch seol if he somehow manages to get out of your death grip. you bend over the bathtub, slowly lowering the cat into the water. it’s clear he doesn’t have a problem with making a fuss as he wails and flails his limbs around.

after a while, he finally calms down enough that you can lather him in shampoo. jeno insists on scrubbing him, arguing that you had already done way too much. you sit back on your heels, observing the way the seol leans into his delicate touches.

“looks like he likes it now.”

“he likes to make a big deal but he ends up enjoying it every—“ jeno cuts himself off with a sneeze.

“tissue?” you offer.

he shakes his head. “that’s okay, thanks. i’m used to it. i’m just surprised my allergies haven’t acted up ‘til now.”

“allergies?” you echo.

“yeah, i’m allergic to—“ another sneeze. ���cats.”

your eyes widen. “really? and you still have seol?”

“i could never get rid of him. he’s too good of a boy. isn’t—“ sneeze. “that right?” he tickles seol under his chin.

“wow. you must really love him.”

“so much.”

“he’s lucky to have you.”

“what about you? you get both of us. doesn’t that make you the luckiest?”

you snort. “i guess it does.”

   4.    he makes a good shopping buddy.

“i have officially cooked everything we have.”

“i can order some takeout, if you want?”

he juts his lower lip out and gives you puppy eyes. “but i like to cook for you.”

you laugh at his expression. “oh god, you look like that one pouty emoji people use when they try to be cute.”

he sits up. “did it work?”

you nod and pinch his cheek.

he yelps. “ah, stop! you’re acting like my grandma!” he manages to get out of your grasp. he rubs his face, soothing the spots you had squeezed. “seriously, though, we really do need to stock up on food.”

“i’ve already been looking into it.” you show him the screen of your phone. “says here you can still go shopping as long as you wear a mask and try to stay six feet away from other shoppers.”

he cringes. “i don’t know if i like the idea of being so close to so many people.”

“i can go by myself, then,” you suggest with a shrug.

he doesn’t hesitate to deny you. “no way are you going alone.” his possessive tone has you staring at him curiously so he adds, “you know, in case you can’t reach something on the top shelf.”

the teasing comment paired with his innocent smile makes you gasp in disbelief. “lee jeno! that’s low! and to think i almost thought you were worried about me.”

“who said i wasn’t?” he smiles at you again before standing up. “i’m going to find us some masks and then we can head out.”  

once you arrive at your local grocery store, you find it to be packed. everyone seems to be in a hurry, grabbing things left and right.

“wow, it’s already gotten crazy,” jeno mumbles, stopping to stare at the flood of people that rush by.

you don’t hesitate to scold him. “well, don’t just stand there! we gotta get our stuff before there’s nothing left!”

without another word you slip into the frenzy of people. jeno struggles to stay behind you. after almost losing sight of you a couple times, he walks a little faster to catch up and places his arm firmly around your waist once he does. you look up at him, your mask covering your slightly agape mouth.

being the gentleman he is, he apologizes. “sorry but i don’t want us to get separated.”

you can only nod and mumble, “good idea.”

jeno pushes the shopping cart with his right hand and holds your figure with his left. once in a while, you’ll break apart from each other to grab an item you need but once it’s in the cart, he’ll make sure you end up in the same position. after an hour or so, you’ve grabbed enough and you decide it’s time to pay.

despite the mask she has on, you can tell the middle-aged woman behind the cash register has a big smile on her face once she catches sight of you and your roommate.

“well, just look at you two.” she sighs. “how cute.”

“oh.” you glance at her then jeno then her again. “oh, no. it’s not like that.”

you attempt to move yourself away from jeno only to find his grip to be so incredibly strong that you almost begin to think he’s trying to hold you in place. once you finally detach yourself from him, you begin loading your groceries onto the counter for the employee to scan. she does so, but not before giving you a displeased look.  

“oh really? he holds you like that because you aren’t together?”

jeno assists her in placing the scanned items in bags. “i didn’t want to lose her.”

she pauses scanning a can of tuna to stare him down. “darling, that sounds like a line from a cheesy hallmark rom-com.”

you can’t help but chuckle. “what he means is that there’s a lot of people here and we didn’t want to get separated.”

jeno adds, “desperate times calls for desperate measures.”

the woman adjusts her glasses. “well, you do certainly seem desperate to have her close to you.”

jeno doesn’t say a word as he continues bagging but his smile reaches his eyes.

   5.    he works out.

why did the pandemic have to hit in the middle of summer?

you often asked yourself this, complaining about how inconvenient it was. especially on the days that made your apartment feel like it was on fire. the days that required a thin tank top and shorts. even then, you found yourself to be drenched in sweat.

you sprawled your arms and legs farther on the sofa, the leather material proving to be very uncomfortable. it was either that or your bed with the warm cotton sheets that stuck to your body. just thinking about it brings you discomfort. the only relief you could think of was a cold shower. you would have already taken one if jeno hadn’t been hogging the one bathroom in the apartment.

“jeno!” you yell.

silence; other than the sound of the water running.

“lee jeno!”

the water stops, temporarily for him to shout back an answer. “what?!”

you wipe at the sweat that has accumulated on the bridge of your nose. “hurry up! i’m melting!”

the water starts back up again and you groan. hoping to distract yourself, you pull out your phone. the group chat with your friends is surprisingly silent so you go to instagram for some entertainment. this time, your ex-boyfriend’s post isn’t the first thing you see. it takes you some scrolling but you do end up seeing another one of his pictures.

it’s simply two intertwined hands with a black and white filter. you identify the one on the left as his and although you aren’t as familiar with the one on the right, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out who it belongs to. contrary to the last, this photo has no cheesy words for a caption, just a red heart.  

but, your stomach doesn’t drop. you don’t feel hurt, either. obviously, you still don’t enjoy seeing him just because of all the awful memories that came with it but other than that, you feel unaffected by the image.

in fact, you feel so confident in yourself that you block him.

you’re surprised you hadn’t done it sooner. you had known you didn’t need him in your life any longer so why keep in contact? you feel like a huge weight has been lifted off your shoulders when you press the red button that would keep him and his girlfriend out of your life. you knew with your whole heart that you didn’t need to see either of them.

before, a bit if you had felt the need to keep an eye on him. to see how he was handling the breakup and torture yourself with the fact that he didn’t seem to care. now, you could say you truly didn’t either. you didn’t need him or his stupid pictures. you had other, better things.

your friends.

your cat (yes, you considered seol to be yours).

your roommate.

you had to admit, jeno was the best thing on that list. quarantine had brought you and him significantly closer and you were over the moon about it. he was so wonderful that you kicked yourself for having lived with him for so long without ever really getting to know him. but it was easy to say you two were making up for lost time seeing as you spent every waking moment together. the record long showers jeno took being an exception, of course.

the moment the door to the bathroom opens, you rush into your room and quickly grab an oversized t-shirt and loose pajama pants to change into after your shower. you nearly drop them when you’re met with jeno’s soaking figure in the hallway.

his hair is damp and you can clearly see how long it had become. his skin looks healthy and moisturized, lotion among other skin care products had probably been applied. what really has you in a shock is the fact that the towel barely hangs below his waist. the droplets of water that fall from his hair and down his neck trail down his chest and toned torso towards the only area he has bothered to cover up. his bulky arms are also slightly wet, his veins popping noticeably. he shakes his head in an attempt to rid his hair of any water. then he runs his fingers through it, his muscles flexing ever so slightly as he does so.

“dude!” you exclaim, without a second thought. “you’re ripped!”

he smiles, his round cheeks growing at the unexpected praise. the way he could have such a rugged body but soft-featured face puzzled you to no extent. “thank you. i lift sometimes.”

“sometimes?” you repeat. “don’t be so humble! you’re basically hercules!”

he clicks his tongue. “ah, c’mon. i’m just an athletic person.”

you keep admiring his physique. “clearly.”

“oh god,” he groans, obviously flustered. “you’re looking at me like you’re gonna eat me or something.”

you hold yourself back from making a less than appropriate innuendo. “no comment.”

his eyebrows shoot up in disbelief. “quarantine is really making you go crazy.”

you point a finger at him. “you try being stuck inside with your hot roommate!”

“trust me, y/n, i know all about hot roommates.”

you tilt your head, acting purposefully oblivious. “are you talking about doyoung?”

“what? no i—“ he sighs. “you know what, just take your shower.”

   6.    you can’t say no to him.

jeno ruffles his black locks with his hand and frowns.

you give him a disappointed look. “knock it off, you’re gonna get dandruff in your soup.”

he ignores your comment. “i look like a hobo.”

you pause, spoon halfway to your mouth. “this i know.”

“y/n, this is serious!”

“okay, okay. what’s the issue?”

“i already told you! i’m a bum!”

“you? a bum?” you pause to think about it. “i mean, mentally? maybe. but physically? no.”

“my hair, though. it’s so long.” he grabs a strand of it and pulls it to emphasize his point.

you shrug. “if having lots of hair is the standard for being a bum, i think most of the population is.”

“i want to cut it,” he announces.

“you should,” you say, pointing your spoon at him. “wanna know why? because if you mess up, no one will ever know. other than me, of course. but if you pay me enough i’ll let you forget it.”

he smiles at the joke for a moment before he leans forward and his face goes serious. “will you help me?”

“what? no way. i’ll mess up. and it’s only funny if you do it.”

he pouts. “please?”

you stir your soup around. “just watch some youtube videos. after three, you’re automatically a professional.”

“i want you.”

the statement has your neck snapping up from your bowl to him. the smug grin on his face lets you know that he was well aware of the double meaning behind his words. it was clear he was trying to fluster you enough to get a yes.

“you think you’re flirty enough to straight up brainwash me into doing stuff?”

“well, i wanted to say that to you anyway but... kind of?”

you feel a smile creep onto your lips at hearing the genuine tone in his voice. you down your last few spoonfuls of soup and quickly stand up. jeno looks up at you, eyes hopeful.

“finish your dinner. get the scissors. meet me in the bathroom.”

not even ten minutes later, jeno practically dances into the bathroom, a pair of red craft scissors in his hand. he sits on top of the toilet lid, figuring that’d be the easiest way for you to reach him. you walk in moments later.

“i’m pretty sure we’re not supposed to be using these types of scissors for hair,” he mumbles as he hands you the sharp utensil.

you twirl them in your hand. “oh, definitely not. do you want to wait then?”

he shakes his head, his shaggy bangs swaying with the movement.  

“alright, let’s get this going then.” you thread your hands through his thick locks to collect some of it in between two of your fingers. you bring the scissors forward and snip the small amount just to test the waters.

you slowly begin to get more comfortable and once you feel like you’re in your element, things begin to speed up. you move and cut faster but with efficiency. you do the spots on the back of his head and work your way forward. when it finally comes time to touch up his bangs, your small bathroom proves to be an inadequate spot to be doing this.

you end up standing balanced inches above jeno’s thighs that he’s pressed together tightly in an attempt to give you more room. you’re constantly readjusting your stance and when he notices, his hands go to your hips. you know he’s just trying to help you stay upright so you do a decent job but you still inhale sharply at the feeling of his hands on you.

not long after, you’re standing next to jeno as he inspects himself in the mirror. his fingers flick his newly shortened bangs around.

“not bad.” he tilts his head in a new angle and nods. “looks super good to me.”

you tuck the scissors into your back pocket with a relieved sigh. “oh thank god. i didn’t want to tell you before we started but i only watched two youtube tutorials on trimming hair.”

he runs a hand through his hair with a chuckle. “now that’s truly worthy of praise. and a tip.”

you raise a brow. “oh yeah? what’s th—“

he cuts you off by pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead. he pulls back and drags his thumb over the skin that has come into contact with his lips. “thanks again.” with that, he leaves you standing in the bathroom, eyes wide and face warm.

   7.    he has six best friends.

“can i borrow your laptop?” asks jeno, from outside your door, nearly breathless.

you look up from your book. “uh yeah, sure.”

he rushes in your room and takes the item off of your dresser. “do you happen to have zoom on it?”

you shake your head and he groans. without another word, he disappears, running off into the living room. you hear his frustrated sighs as the minutes pass and he attempts to download the application. you finally decide to go check it out once it becomes too much to bear.

“it sounds like you’re in pain over here,” you comment.

he runs a hand through his hair. “i’m supposed to meet with my friends through a zoom call but it’s so complicated.”

you put a hand on your hip. “bet you five bucks i’ll be able to get it in five minutes.”

“are you kidding? i might be technologically challenged but i’m not stupid. i know you can do it fast, just help me out already, would you?”

“alright, grandpa.”

you type and click away at the screen, jeno watching you do so, entranced but equally as lost.

“well, i was wrong,” you say after a couple moments, leaning back in your chair.

“you couldn’t get it?” asks jeno, worriedly.

“no, it’s not that.” you click something on the screen and the app opens. “turns out i could do it in three.”

he rolls his eyes and shoos you out of the chair. he sits down and enters the code and password for the zoom meeting. it takes a minute, but he finally connects. you count six other people in the call. they all immediately cheer at seeing jeno and you hear them excitedly exclaim his name.

“hey guys,” he says, a smile already reaching his eyes. “it’s so good to see your faces.”

they all nod to agree. you get a good look at each one of them and realize they’re all boys. your eyes read over each of their display names.

mark me in ur heart

hyuckie~~~

moomin enthusiast

nananananana

chnele

lil huddy

“nice name, jeno,” ‘moomin enthusiast’ guy comments, snickering slightly. “glad to see you finally came to terms with it.”

‘jenojam’, his name reads. the rest of the group laughs, also teasing him about it. you assume it’s some kind of inside joke.

the self proclaimed ‘lil huddy’ furrows his eyebrows. “wait, did you choose that name yourself?”

jeno simply nods in response.

he glares into the camera. “donghyuck, you told me i had to put this as my name or else it wouldn’t let me connect!”

donghyuck—or ‘hyuckie~~~’, you presume—shrugs. “oops. guess i was wrong.”

you laugh at the humorous exchange. it seems like the sound has drawn some attention to you when ‘nananananana’ speaks up, eyes trained on you.

“um jeno? don’t you want to introduce your guest?”

jeno beams, dragging you closer into the frame. “i’m sure you all know about my roommate. say hi, y/n.” 

you do so, waving and smiling politely at the group.

“you know, even though we used to always hang at jeno’s, i don’t think we’ve ever actually seen your face,” ‘chnele’ says, tilting his head.

you agree. “me neither. i’ve mostly just heard you guys.”

the ‘mark me in your heart’ boy sheepishly rubs his neck. “sorry. we tend to be a little loud.”

‘chnele’ lets out a high pitched screech of a laugh. “only a little?”

“i recognize that laugh!” you blurt. “i would hear it all the time!”

”that’s our little dolphin,” coos ‘hyuckie~~~’.

“oh god, stop. i hate that stupid nickname.”

“it’s well deserved.”

“i think you should apologize to y/n for being a nightmare to her eardrums.”

“and ours, for that matter.”

“what about all your little freestyles? i’ve had to sit through hundreds of them and i never got an apology!”

“because they’re not bad! could you do any better?”

“you’re a soundcloud rapper, i think anyone could.”

jeno turns to you as the bickering on screen gets louder and louder. “this is gonna be a long call.”

once the group has moved on from roasting the life out of each other, you’re able to engage in some good-natured conversation. jeno teaches you the names and the other basics about the group. some points that stand out about the group is that mark is the oldest, renjun specializes in contemporary dance, jaemin inhales six cups of coffee on the daily, and chenle is insanely rich.

“what about jeno?” you ask them. “anything i should know about him?”

“he’s allergic to cats but the idiot still adopted—“

“she already knows about that, renjun,” jeno chuckles.

“oh. well. that’s pretty much the only interesting thing about him.”

jisung pipes up. “oh wait! he works out religiously too!”

you and jeno share a look. you burst into laughter and he simply glances away, slightly embarrassed. “oh yeah, i know that all too well.”

“and what about the unhealthy cooking obsession?”

you nod at mark’s question. “that too. he cooks dinner almost every night around here.”

renjun purses his lips. “he already cooks for you? wow. he must really like you.”

“you think?” jaemin asks. “didn’t you read any of the messages in the group chat? he’s practically in love with her. his words, not mi—“

“okay! i think it’s time for us to go! bye guys!” jeno doesn’t even give you a chance to say your own goodbye before he’s clicking the ‘end call’ button in the bottom right corner.

you give him a confused look. “what was that all about?”

“they’re crazy.” he laughs. “well, if you need me i’ll be in my room screaming into my pillow for the next couple hours.” he dashes off leaving you standing alone, trying to comprehend what had happened.

   8.    he‘s a great listener.

jeno has officially replaced seol as your movie buddy, not that you have a problem with it. you thought it was nice to have someone you could actually converse with but of course, you make sure seol still sits in.

“what i’m saying is that iron man just wants to protect his team.”

“well, if they sign the accords, they basically surrender themselves to the government.”

“and?”

“you don’t see a problem with that? see, captain america knows what he’s doing. he’s literally an avenger—“

“so is iron man!”

“let me finish! so, he’s an avenger, right? he has the best judgment because he’s saved the world countless times. he knows how to operate his team and do the right thing.”

“okay but there’s casualties. and that’s what iron man is trying to fix.”

“how do you save the world and not have casualties?”

“you just—“ your phone rings mid argument and you raise your finger towards jeno. “this isn’t over.” you put the phone to your ear, not bothering to check the caller id. “hello?”

“sweetheart?”

you feel a chill go up your spine. was it him? no, it couldn’t be. you had blocked his number shortly after you did so on all your social media.

“baby, don’t be so shy. i know you’re there.”

you can’t hold back. “please don’t call me that.”

he chuckles, breathlessly. “oh, c’mon. you used to love it. you still do.”

“no, i don’t. actually, i don’t want to hear your stupid pet names or stupid voice or see any of your stupid posts. just go bother your girlfriend and leave me alone.”

you notice jeno perk up beside you out of the corner of your eye. he must have been caught off guard by your irritated tone.

as always, lucas is unaffected by you. “i’m being nice and giving you a second chance. i even called you behind soyeon’s back.”

“is that something i’m supposed to reward you for?” you scoff. “congratulations, you’re now awful, toxic, and a cheater.”

he growls. the sound was familiar. in your relationship, if you heard it you knew he was going to snap at you until he had the satisfaction of making you cry. “i know you miss me so don’t say things you’re going to regret later. because even when you’re back in my arms, i won’t let you forget it.”

the thought of being back with him made you feel icky. but the fact that he sincerely thought you would crawl back to him set your entire body on fire. “are you joking? i was always aware of the fact that you treated me like the dirt you walked on but do you seriously think that lowly of me?”

you’re rendered speechless and apparently, so is he because the other line stays silent.

“i wouldn’t go back to you if you were the last person on earth,” you spit. “you treated me horribly, wong yukhei. i won’t ever forget it. move on. i have.”

you glance at jeno, his expression more serious than you’ve ever seen it. his eyebrows are furrowed and his eyes are trained on your cellphone. the glare he gives the device is so strong you wouldn’t be surprised if even lucas could feel it, wherever he was.

you hang up and block the number, wishing to never talk to him again. you toss your phone onto the sofa with an exasperated sigh. you find jeno’s gaze to still be focused intensely on it.  

“if you gave lucas that look, i’m pretty sure he’d cry.”

he breaks his concentration, eyes going to you instead. his entire face softens. “all i’m going to say is he better pray we never cross paths.”

“well, if you happen to, call me up. i wouldn’t mind helping you beat the crap out of him.”

jeno chuckles for a second then lowers his voice to a whisper. “he was really bad to you, huh?”

you nod. “he messed me up. i hate to admit it ‘cause i know i was stupid to stay with him for as long as i did.”

your roommate shakes his head. “don’t say that. it’s not your fault he messed up the best thing that would ever happen to him.”

“i thought i was the problem for so long, jeno. i was so blinded by love. then, i realized there was no way he truly cared for me when he treated me like i had no heart to be broken.”

jeno scoots towards you and rubs soothing circles into your arm. “you have such a big heart. and i can’t tell you how sorry i am that he took advantage of that. i’m sorry that you were stuck with someone so insecure and ignorant. please, don’t think about him anymore.”

you hold in your tears. you refused to cry over someone like lucas. “i know. i try so hard not to.”

jeno holds your head into his chest. his arms are placed securely on your back. “oh, baby.”

when jeno uses this pet name on you, it feels so completely different from lucas. you could tell me meant it. he wasn’t using it to make you stay a little longer, to assure you he loved you. strangely enough, you do not need to be convinced of that. you feel like you have known it for a long time.  

   9.    he likes to be the big spoon.

you’re not sure how he’s done it but you end up falling asleep in jeno’s arms. you assume it had been so long since you had been cradled and rocked so delicately that the foreign yet extremely delightful sensation knocked you right out. even seol is deep in sleep, laying down peacefully at your feet.  

you relish in the feeling of jeno pressed right into your back. he fits so perfectly against you that it reminds you of a puzzle piece. to be exact, the moment when you connect the last two pieces and the full picture becomes complete. that was how you felt—complete.

with jeno’s soft breaths tickling the back of your neck and his soft snores filling your ear, you know there’s nowhere else you’d rather be. his arm that is wrapped around you makes sure you can’t escape his embrace. you are positive that even if you had the liberty of doing so, you would stay exactly where you were.

you lean farther back into your pillow, closing your eyes. you let every thought fade away as you try to fall back asleep as soon as possible. you wanted the moment you found yourself in to last as long as possible.

   10.    he has feelings for you.

jeno mumbles sweet nothings into your ear as he toys with your hair.

it just seemed right to him. like something he was meant to do with you. he had seen these types of things in films and shows before. it was intimate and touching, the scenes were always meant to tug at the audience’s heart strings and show how in love the two characters were. perhaps, even though you lay asleep in his arms, he wants you to finally know.

“honestly, being inside with you all the time is kind of the best. i know the whole virus situation is less than ideal but being able to spend so much time with you... that’s all i could ask for.” he pauses. “isn’t it so crazy how before this we were all weird and awkward around each other? well, i guess we still kind of are. that’s mostly my fault so... sorry. i just don’t know how to act around you sometimes. we’re barely getting close and i’m already this attached to you. as jisung would so kindly say, ‘i’m simping’.” he chuckles to himself. “all jokes aside, i really do like you. ever since you moved in here all cute and nervous, you’ve taken your own little place in my heart, as cheesy as it sounds. and these past few weeks, you just keep on taking up more and more room in there. not that i have a problem with it. i just...” he stops as if he doesn’t know how else to express his feelings. “really, really like you.”

“thanks.”

you feel him jolt then abruptly stop stroking your hair. there’s silence until he asks, “you don’t happen to be a sleep talker, do you?”

you shake your head.

“and did you hear like, a lot of what i said?”

“only the important stuff. like how awkward you are and how much you like me.”

“o-oh.”

“but don’t worry. it’s mutual.”

you feel his relieved breath hit the skin of your neck. “that’s the best thing i’ve heard all day.”

you tilt your head back and stare at him, confused. “what, did you seriously think i wasn’t into you?”

he shrugs. “i was too busy simping, i guess.”

you can’t contain your laughter at the use of the slang. “park jisung would not be proud.”   

[andersoncharm]

Don’t Read The Last Page- October 24, 2020

MiniPara: - Don’t Read The Last Page

Rating: PG.

Pairing: Seblaine. 

Sebastian: smythesm

Blaine: andersoncharm

When: October 24, 2020-  Two days after Blaine’s 24th Birthday.

Location: Sebastian’s Apartment- Boston, MA

Notes: Sam visits Blaine for his birthday week and gets to know Seb a little. He gives Blaine some unexpected news that could change Blaine and Sebastian’s lives…

Warnings:  Mentions of death. Parental Death (Blaine’s Mom), Mentions of toxic past relationships. Mentions of brief past Klaine.

Extra Warnings: (This hasn’t been brought up for a bit but, this RP is not Kurt Hummel friendly. You’ve all been warned.)

Blaine’s POV:

Blaine tipped a sip of his tea attempting to hide the smile that had overtaken his face as he watched his boyfriend and his best friend place the freshly carved pumpkins out on the balcony. The visual brought him a joy that he’d not felt in a long time and he wanted to hold onto the moment, freeze it in his brain and save it for a darker day. They’d done six squash and each one had a dreadful grin or the face of a pup, or little cat whiskers carved into the shades of orange and yellow. He, Seb and Sam had spent the crisp day doing various autumnal things that Blaine wanted to do in sort of a birthday weekend celebration and Blaine’s perpetually worried yet happy demeanor over the last few days, had somehow evolved to an even bigger degree of happiness that balanced somewhere between being thrilled to downright ecstatic. Sam being here had brought a little slice of his childhood into his new world and Blaine was over the moon with the feeling of having them both near. If only David and Nick could be here to make it all even better.

He fought the urge to light each of the pumpkins from his spot in Sebastian’s apartment, but refrained- Sam would be leaving soon to go back to Ohio with his family for a few days before leaving for Japan and Blaine could wait before he used his favorite bit of spooky magic. Sam had been in America for almost two weeks now and he’d been in Boston for four days, Blaine only wished he had more time here. He sat his cup down and went over and opened the balcony door as Seb and Sam turned to come back in, the purple and orange glow of the Halloween lights backing them as they stepped into the room.

“I know Sam’s got a long drive ahead of him so I’ve made a kettle of hot water for tea and a pot of coffee, the two of you can take your pick. And yes, Sam, there are about six different types of creamer to choose from.” He rolled his eyes at Sam’s grin and sat down to wait for them to come back. Sebastian came first and Blaine’s face once again threatened to crack open into another smile as his boyfriend snuggled into him, shivering from being outside. Blaine wrapped his arm around him and pulled him even closer before pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “It’s not that cold, baby.” He mumbled teasingly. Seb just grunted in response.

“God the two of you are so gross.” Sam mused with a smile as he came back into the room with the biggest coffee cup from the cupboard filled way too full and slightly sloshing over as he sat down at the end of the couch. “Gross, but like way better than the dude you dated in high school for those few months. Kurt? Did I tell you that I ran into him when I first got to Ohio? Still has major uh, god complex energy. God complex? Did I use that right? Yeah.”

Blaine’s stomach dropped a little at the mention of his brief, witch ex-boyfriend and he pulled Seb a little closer. Whether it was to keep himself calm or Seb safe he couldn't tell.

Sebastian’s POV:

Seb liked Sam well enough. He had brought him a plethora of Japanese candy and a Sailor Moon manga. Sebastian was touched by how thoughtful it all was even if the blonde man wrapped him in a giant bear hug that had lasted a little too long for his liking. Sam laughed at pretty much everything Sebastian said (“your voice is so monotone, dude! It’s hilarious!”) and was Blaine’s biggest cheerleader, had a giant grin and even bigger arms so what wasn’t to like? Ras liked him, too (probably because they had almost the exact same demeanor and ecstatic energy.) Sam fully embraced Blaine’s autumnal themed birthday weekend and didn’t make things seem third wheel-y. 

Sebastian nestled the last grinning jack o’ lantern on the bannister as Sam stood back and wiped his palms on his jeans. They had carefully carried all six of the pumpkins they had carved with Blaine out to the balcony to display. Blaine had made a show of making sure each pumpkin had a little white votive candle inside of it though Seb knew that he would just use his magic to make sure they shone bright and long all season. 

He nodded at Sam as if to signify that their work was done and they headed back into the warmth of the apartment. Sebastian immediately snuggled into his boyfriend’s warm arms, the scent of coffee and cinnamon candles instantly comforting. He wasn’t ready for the nights to grow colder and darker but he knew how much Blaine loved the colder months and so he welcomed the chilly air and tried not to grumble about missing his beloved sun too much. 

Seb peeled himself out of the other man’s strong arms, flipped Sam off and poured himself a cup of coffee with a little half and half. He clasped his mug and reveled in the feeling of the hot ceramic in his hands. Sebastian joined the other men in the living room and tried not to audibly sigh when he noticed Sam’s coffee (kind calling it that, it was mostly caramel creamer) slosh onto the arm of the couch. He knew Blaine would magic it but his Virgo tendencies were itchy with the want to spray the spot down with cleaner and scrub vigorously.  

His ears perked at the mention of Blaine’s ex. Sebastian felt the other man pull him a little closer and could feel the energy change around them. He sat up a little straighter and cleared his throat, “God complex, huh?” Sebastian took a drink of his coffee and watched Sam who seemed very chill as he sipped on his drink and gave Ras’s hair a ruffle. He could feel Blaine’s body tense to his side. “Humor us, Sam. What did he have to say?”

Blaine’s POV:

Blaine’s heart thudded in his chest as he waited for Sam to reply to them. This familiar icy feeling of dread that he’d grown accustomed to ignoring over the past couple of years slowly crept over his body even before Sam spoke what had been said into the atmosphere. He tried his hardest not to react, tired not to grip Seb’s arm too tightly as his stomach fell to the floor. Sam’s perky, nonchalance made Blaine feel crazy about his internal struggle, but one quick glance at Seb told him that he wasn’t alone in his struggle. All at once he was happy that Hunter and Tony had already left a couple of days ago after meeting Sam and weren’t here to hear this. Wouldn’t it be their obligation to the Order to do something about it? Kurt was a Witch. A Witch that now knew about Sebastian and Blaine’s very forbidden relationship… He was especially thankful that Freya was out in the moonlight so that she couldn’t tell him she told him so. No matter how much she cared for Seb and of course, Ras.

“Well, he was like standing there, looking like he stepped out of some magazine, you know how he was, remember? And then he just casually asks how you are. So I tell him how happy you are and how you’ve got this awesome boyfriend named Sebastian that treats you like an equal and not like, you know, a trophy wife like he did and this fucking dude just keeps smiling at me. His eyes got all big and crazy looking and man, ooh, he looked like that cat from Alice in Wonderland, you know? Anyway,  I’m glad you got outta that one as quick as you did.” Sam took a big swig of his too hot drink and winched but still managed to look so proud of himself for talking Seb and Blaine up. He really was a good best friend. But, all Blaine could feel was that shrinking dread. 

Blaine licked his lips, a permanent chill settling into his bones as he sat his tea cup onto the coffee table in front of them before leaning back against Seb. His body tensed and ready for a fight as if Kurt or the Order and Council would bust through the door at any second. “That’s so strange. We dated for like two or three months, I can’t see why he’d even care what I’m up to.” He forced a laugh and reached out for Seb’s hand, linking their fingers and squeezing tightly so as not to float away. “How long ago was this?”

Sam took another drink of his coffee and shrugged. “Like when I first got into Ohio.” He shook his head. “I saw him about three more times on my trip, he didn’t talk to me or anything, just seemed to be at a few places I went to, I wouldn’t worry about it, dude. Like you said, you totally shouldn't give a shit about what he thinks anyway.” His best friend stopped and looked up at the clock with a sigh. “Ugh, I guess I should go soon. I promise the next time I come though that I’ll stay longer than four days, alright?” Sam stood up and not so carefully went into the kitchen to discard his cup into the sink. He pulled Seb into a hug that looked like it hurt before standing up and pulling Blaine into an even stronger hug, crushing him against him. Blaine knew he was tense and that he was distracted and he hated that he wasn’t able to say a proper goodbye to his best friend, but his heart was thudding so fucking hard in his ribcage that he wanted to scream.

He was such an idiot. How could he have been so careless? How could he have forgotten that Sam’s family was from Ohio that sweet, oblivious Sam would have no clue that all the Facebook and Instagram and Twitter posts had been glamoured so that it looked like Blaine was still single to Witchfolk? The high from his Birthday weekend crashed down hard and he couldn’t even bring himself to speak after Sam had left. His body felt heavy as he made his way back into the bedroom to get dressed for bed. He ignored Ras’ pitiful look which made him feel worse. He was working on autopilot as he changed his clothes and he could feel Seb’s eyes on him, searching for answers that Blaine didn’t have. His hands were shaking as he ran them through his curls before finally looking up at Sebastian, lost.

“Fuck, Seb…”

Sebastian’s POV:

It was a good thing that Sebastian was in law school and had been trained not to wear his emotions on his sleeve and had a pretty perfect poker face because his stomach was tied in knots. He knew that he and Blaine needed to remain calm while Sam was around. Kurt was a witch. A witch knew about them and it wasn’t just any old witch, it was Blaine’s ex. Sure, they had only been together a few months but they way it had been explained to Sebastian, he was sure there was a grudge. He could feel his boyfriend’s rigid body and slight shake. “Fuck him.” The words were meant for Blaine’s feelings as well as a reply to Sam’s story.  

Sebastian awkwardly patted Sam on the back as he bunched him up into a hug. Blaine hugged his best friend and gave a half hearted goodbye and Ras gave him a few kisses and he was on his way out. Seb walked Sam to the door and wished him a safe trip. He watched Blaine silently head into the bedroom and sighed. 

“What does this mean, B? What do we do?” He pulled open the top drawer on his dresser to find the pack of cigarettes he had nestled in amongst his boxers. He felt too agitated to get into his sweats or get undressed for bed. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to sleep at all. Sebastian sat on the bed next to the other man, his cigarette in between his lips. “Can I get a light?”

Blaine’s POV:

Blaine gave a half hearted smile and reached out his hand and with a surge of energy and a flick of his fingers Sebastian’s cigarette was lit. Seb rarely let Blaine use magic with him aside from sex and he knew this was an attempt to make him feel better. He watched as his boyfriend took a long drag, his eyes blurring from staring at the reddish orange glow of the magic lighted ash. He worried his bottom lip as his thoughts raced through his head. What would he do? He could go to Hunter and Tony, warn them that someone may know about him and Sebastian. Someone that could do something about it, that might dislike him just enough to turn him in. But, would Kurt? They’d only been together a few months and while they hadn’t had the best break up and Blaine had gotten angry about the way Kurt had controlled every aspect about their relationship right down to what Blaine wore sometimes, surely that didn’t mean he’d try to have him killed. Right?

He blinked remembering the disdain in Kurt’s eyes when he said he didn’t want to be his legacy, descendant prize. He remembered when Kurt had reminded Blaine that some witches never found their fate and that they should just settle for each other since Kurt understood what it was like to lose a parent. Blaine remembered how upset he’d been when Kurt threw his mother's death in his face and suddenly it was all too much for him at once. He shook his head and turned back to look at his boyfriend. 

“Nothing. We’re not going to do anything, okay?” He knew it sounded insane and saying it out loud scared the hell out of him, but what was he supposed to do? “If we tell Hunter or Tony or my dad it will only expedite everything and I want to hold onto us for as long as I fucking can.” His voice was sharp, like he needed to convince himself and Sebastian. “Kurt has known about us for two weeks, surely he would have gone to the Council or the  Order by now, right?” Or he’s just biding his time…  He shrugged that thought off, knowing it was going to haunt his thoughts for the rest of his life, leaned in closer to Sebastian. 

“Whatever has to happen is going to happen. All I know is that I’m not leaving and I’m not going to let anything happen to you, okay? My top priority is keeping you safe and I plan on sticking by that.” He reached for Sebastian’s free hand and brought the back of it up to his lips and pressed a kiss to it, his eyes falling closed as he breathed him in. The overwhelming feeling of how much he loved this man and how much dying for him and them would be worth it overtook him and he wanted to scream and cry about how unfair the world was but Sebastian needed him to be calm and he needed to be calm for himself or he’d panic and where would that leave him?

“It’s going to be okay.” He mumbled the words, his conviction whooshing out of him as he scooted so that he was as close to Sebastian as he could get, his head pressing into his chest as he tried to steady his breathing and convince himself of the words' truths. It had to be okay.

Sebastian’s POV:

Sebastian took a long drag of his cigarette and blew the smoke up towards the ceiling. He stared at the ceiling fan for a few moments, the light making little blue dots swim in front of his eyes. Seb squeezed Blaine’s thigh and held the cigarette out towards him. “Hopefully this kid has grown up some.” He took a deep breath and his lungs wavered a bit from the smoke and the fear swimming low in his belly. Sebastian didn’t like the sound of any of the words Blaine was saying. It all sounded detrimental and uncertain and scary. “You’re my top priority, too, you know. I need you to be safe, too.” He bit his bottom lip and looked into the other man’s warm eyes. Blaine looked scared and sad and that made Seb’s stomach knot up and his anxiety spike. “We can get through this.” Sebastian didn’t want to turn his courthouse tricks on with Blaine but he wanted to calm the other man down and reassure him somehow. 

“Maybe we should lay in bed and watch a movie. I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep and I don’t want to mindlessly stare at my phone all night. You can pick what we watch.” Sebastian stood up and grabbed the sweatpants he had set out for that night off of his pillow. “The water is probably still warm in the kettle. I’ll bring you some chamomile tea.” 

So, even though his body felt sick with anxiety and his throat felt dry and his hands wanted to shake, he forced his voice to stay even and his hands to calmly grip the maroon mug that he filled with hot water for Blaine. Sebastian turned off the lights and plugged in the heating pad for Blaine, snuggled into his side as they watched Tangled and West Side Story. He drifted off to sleep before anything bad happened to Tony and Maria and wished on any star that happened to be out that he and Blaine would be okay.

/fin.

[saundraswriting]

Need Some TLC Chapter 3: Breakfast

 SUMMARY: Reader gets to enjoy some homemade breakfast for the first time in a long time, made by Sargent Barnes. And her door gets fixed. all in all a good day off.

WARNINGS: Reader has an small anxiety episode over a fire alarm.

Masterlist // Previous // Next

Captain Rogers leaned against your counter like he did it everyday, a small smile and baby blue eyes twinkling in amusement. Sargent Barnes was bent of the stove and counter frozen-as if expecting a reprimand-holding a wooden spoon in limp fingers. The kitchen was covered in food and scraps and cooking paraphernalia.

"Yes. This is your apartment. We didn't abduct you. And Buck here is making you breakfast...or lunch as it rather." The Captain explained. You stood up straightening the pajamas you were wearing.

"Oh. Well then. Thank you very much Sargent Barnes. I was just going to get something delivered. But-um-how did you-or rather-why here? I feel lock picking is a skill you shouldn't be using on civilians." You focused your gaze on Sargent Barnes raising your brow in accusation.

"Hey! You shouldn't be making wild accusations and throwing them about all willy-nilly. Especially about the person who is making your lunch. a lesser person would be offended." Sargent Barnes said with a laugh.

"Don't let him fool you. The Lunch is part apology for breaking down your door and part Buck's doting mother hen instinct. And with that I am now leaving. I have a door to go buy." Captain Rogers pushed away from the counter and stopped in front of you. "Glad to see you. Even better to see you safe and home. I also am going to speak to a man about a security system." Rogers pulled you into a tight breath-stealing hug; which you happily returned.

"Good to see you Captain. I won't lie, I am still pretty tired." You replied.

"Bucky, keep you phone on." Rogers left, stepping through the open doorway.

"Sargent Barnes, What did Captain Rogers mean just now?" You asked. You stretched in the entryway to the kitchen, full extension of the spine, fingertips hitting the frame. You took a deep breath, taking in the scent you were craving. "Coffee!" You cheered. your grabbed an oversized mug. you began affectionately mumbling sweet nothing to your coffee pot and sugar and creamer. Bucky watched from the corner of his eye, pretending to focus on lunch, he could feel his affection for you grow. He couldn't help but smile at the stir fry he was working on. "Sargent Barnes, What did the good captain mean earlier? Why do I need a new door? What happened?" You tried to ask again.

"I-may-have-broken-your-door-by-kicking-it-down-when-I-rightly-panicked-because-you-were-sleeping-though-the-not-fire-alarm-we-had-about-two-hours-after-you-went-to-sleep." Bucky rushed out in one breath. You gasped loudly. Bucky looked up to see you blanche in terror.

"I'm sorry. I must still be semi-asleep. You are saying that I was so tired, I slept through a fire? A real fire? I think I'm gonna be sick." You tightened the grip on your mug, looking for reassurance.

"Steve and I  waited a bit to see if you were going to get up. and when you didn't I freaked out a bit and kicked your door down. I carried you down the stairs then waited for all clear. It was a small kitchen fire on the first floor, stovetop only. I didn't want to have you wake up alone with a busted door. So I made lunch and Steve offered to go get you a door." Bucky turned off the stove and plated the food.

"Oh. Holy shit. I you hadn't been here. I know that we are friends. I mean, right? Sargent Barnes, you and Captain Rogers are very important to me. but this is a whole different level. I can't thank you enough. You saved my life. I work such crazy hours and have no one to know my schedule. If you hadn't been next door, no one would have even known I was here. I could've died?" You breathing became quicker and shorter near hyperventilating.

"Y/N, don't think like that. Of course you are our friend. You keep us in god spirits when we are down. Or company when we are lonely. I am beyond ecstatic that I was here for you. The basic fact is I was here and you are safe, I and Steve are taking measures to avoid this in the future. I will always be here." Bucky promised. He held both your hands in his large ones, squeezing gently. His slate grey-blue eyes bore into yours full of sincerity and honesty.

You could not resist any man looking at you with as much intent as his eyes did, let alone the gorgeous Sargent Barnes.

"Thank you again, Sargent Barnes. How may I repay you?" you squeezed his hands, eager to please, eyes crinkled in happiness.

"I will accept payment for saving your life with two things. One, I want cookies. Tw, I want you to call me Bucky, Buck, or even James. No more of this Sargent Barnes stuff. That goes for Steve too. Those are my terms. On unrelated news; I will take no negations. Also, we are swapping keys. Steve is making copies of your key for us and copies of our key to give to you. The AI running our security from Stark already knows your identification." Bucky handed you a plate of the best smelling and looking stir-fry you had ever seen.

"Very well, you drive a hard bargain. Looks like I will have to accept, Bucky. Now, let's eat, I am going to repress this morning's incident. I will just freak out." You stuck out your hand and shook his metal hand, not even flinching. You shook on the terms before digging into lunch.

"Also, Steve is asking Tony Stark if he can install FRIDAY, kinda like our place. That way someone always knows where you are." Bucky squeezed in as you stuffed your face indelicately.

"MM-HMM" You shook your head vigorously. After chewing and swallowing-you washed it all down with your coffee. "No. I am a nurse. Nothing super, even if I am friends with two super-soldiers. I don't need that kind of security. If I work this hard again, I either tell you I am home or do what I need to do and then crash over on your couch. FRIDAY can alert you to if I need saving." You offer instead.

Bucky chewed slowly, staring at you thoughtfully. You ate in silence wanting to give him time to think over your idea. and to enjoy your first home cooked meal in days maybe a week.

"Very well. I agree with that. I'll text Steve to let him know the change in plans. Finish your food, you still have laundry to do." Bucky did exactly that and texted Steve. You sat at the table, full and relaxed and comforted by the presence of another human being nearby. Your blinks grew longer and slower. You swayed slightly in your chair, hands lightly trembling and Bucky could se you weren't able to track him in the kitchen. "Laundry, Y/N. Come on, up you get." You lurched upright out of the chair and stumbled to your laundry room. You threw your clothes in the dryer without caution. only pulling out your scrub shirts and hanging them on hangers in the bathroom to dry. you shuffled back to the living room were a cool bottle of water sat in front of the couch and a documentary waited for you.

"I am going to stay if that is okay with you. I will clean up the kitchen and help put on your new door. Also it will help my peace of mind, with you probably going to sleep again with no door." Bucky suggested.

"Go 'head. Like da com'any. Nigh' Sarge." You slurred you grabbed you blanket and twisted as you laid down, becoming a burrito. you fell asleep soothed by Buck's presence, leaving him alone in your apartment.

Bucky felt a surge of manly pride. He had made you food. He had kept you safe in a crisis. Your were comforted by himself being here to sleep. He had provided for you in the most basic senses and you were happy. His mama would be proud of him. Bucky reached down and ran his fingers through your hair releasing any lingering tension. You sighed shifting deeper into the couch. Bucky could only grin.

Masterlist // Previous // Next

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So? What do you think? The formatting better? This look okay?

[quickeningheart]

Sixteen

   Alley almost felt back to normal when she finally entered the small kitchen, where Stoker was in the midst of preparing a meal. He glanced at her and smiled. "Good timing. Food's ready. How ya feelin', kid?"

   "Human," she replied.

   He grinned and nodded at the table. "Have a seat."

   "You know, I really wasn't kidding when I said I wasn't hungry." And she wasn't about to tempt fate and risk a repeat of the past two hours.

   He wordlessly picked up two plates piled with scrambled eggs, toast, sliced oranges, and set them on the table before seating himself. She squeaked in shock when she felt his cold tail against her back, propelling her to a second chair and forcing her into it. He pointed his fork at her plate. "Eat," he commanded sternly, the clear order of a high-ranking official used to being obeyed. She hesitated, wondering what he'd do if she just walked out. Decided he'd probably have no qualms about strapping her to the chair and force-feeding her. She huffed, picked up her fork, and he smiled. "Good girl."

   The food was surprisingly good. A little bland—he didn't bother much with spices or seasoning—but at least it wasn't burnt. Unlike the trio, he seemed to know his way around a kitchen well enough to whip up something edible. Alley managed to finish half the plate before setting down her fork. When he would have protested, she held up a hand. "I can't eat any more. I'm half the size of you. How much food do you expect me to fit in here?"

   He laughed. "No wonder you're so skinny. A little more meat on your bones would do you good. Keep you warm for winter," he teased, taking her plate to finish the remains for her.

   "What am I, a chipmunk?" She stood and moved to the sink, piling dishes and cookware into it and turning on the hot water. "Thanks for breakfast," she added, pouring soap into the water.

   "Anytime, honey." She jumped, looking over her shoulder to find him right behind her, picking up a dish towel. "You wash, I'll dry?" he offered.

   "You cooked. I can clean up. Besides, the whole place needs cleaned today, anyhow."

   "You sure you shouldn't take it easy for a while?"

   She smiled wryly. "Amazingly, your quack remedy seemed to do the trick. Now that all the ickiness and mind-numbing terror is over, I feel a lot better. I suppose I should thank you for coming all the way back here to drop it off. Not that it means I'll be trusting any 'medicine' you try to give me in the future, of course."

   "Of course." He grinned. "I thought you looked unusually frumpy today. Figured you just weren't up for dollin' yourself up like usual."

   She self-consciously glanced down at her ratty overalls with the legs cut off at the knee, worn over an equally ratty T-shirt. She'd pulled her hair back and covered it with a tie-dyed bandana. She hadn't even bothered with makeup. "No sense dressing up if I'm gonna be on my hands and knees scrubbing floors," she mumbled, focusing on scrubbing dried eggs off the skillet.

   "Don't worry, honey. You're a beauty no matter what you're wearin'. Or aren't wearin'."

   She could almost feel his smirk, and her face flamed. She sighed, shaking her head. "And it was going so well, too," she lamented to the brillo pad.

   Stoker blinked down at her. "What was?"

   "You. Me. Talking like … semi-normal people do. A whole ten minutes without a single innuendo. That's some kind of a record."

   "I've been remiss. I'll have to work on that." He winked, and she huffed.

   "It's all jokes with you," she complained. "How am I supposed to take anything you say seriously? Are you physically incapable of speaking to a woman without making some chauvinistic remark? It's not your most endearing quality, you know."

   "Hmmm." He slanted her a sideways glance, one corner of his mouth twitching up. "So, if I started gettin' serious, you wouldn't have a problem?" His tone was all innocence; the look in his eyes was anything but.

   She sputtered for a reply, found that—as usual—he'd managed to knock the wind clean out of her sails. She instead focused on scrubbing the skillet with renewed vigor.

   Stoker wisely backed off, plucking the squeaky-clean pan from her hands. He set it in the dish drainer, before pouring himself a cup of coffee from the new pot sitting on the brewer. He pulled a small pouch out of his pocket and tossed it onto the table. It landed with a heavy clink.

   "What's that?" Alley eyeballed it suspiciously. "Not more of your remedy, I hope."

   "Nope." He chuckled. "It's a gift. Throttle filled me in on what's goin' on around here."

   Alley's brow furrowed. "About … Charley and Vinnie?"

   His grin was slow and he chuckled softly. "Hmmm. Yeah, that, too. 'Bout damned time that punk made a move." He took another sip of coffee, considering. His grin widened. "Although, knowin' our Charley, she's probably the one who got fed up waitin' and made the first move on him."

   Alley shifted uncomfortably, making a show of folding the damp dish towel and draping it over the dish drainer in the sink. She really didn't want to bring up that particular subject again. It was pretty clear that she was the only one who seemed to have any problem with it, and the unease set her stomach to roiling, especially at the thought of Charley being the one to instigate … whatever it was between her and Vinnie. She could feel Stoker's shrewd gaze on her back, patiently waiting for her to speak, and pressed her lips together.

   Not that it'll fool him, she thought. Isn't that how the song goes? Silence speaks a thousand words? She turned slowly, leaning against the counter as she forced herself to meet his eyes. "I'm not … comfortable with the idea. Of them being … together," she hedged, voice laced with unease.

   He nodded at her to continue, expression blank.

   "It's not just because she's interested in a giant talking mouse. It's also because she's interested in a giant talking mouse who possesses the attention span of a doorknob."

   Stoker, in the midst of another swallow of coffee, choked as an unexpected laugh caught him by surprise. He coughed for a few moments to clear his throat, thumping his chest with a fist as he continued to chortle. "'S a good way to put it," he wheezed around his chuckles. "I outta at least try 'n defend the rookie, but I'd be lyin' if I said it wasn't true."

   His amusement was contagious and she found herself trying to suppress a grin. "See? Even you admit it," she huffed. "I don't think a guy as self-obsessed as him is good for anyone. If she had to fall for one of you, why couldn't it have been Throttle, or Modo? At the very least, they're a lot more dependable."

   "Hey, now. I notice you left my name outta there. You sayin' I'm not dependable?" he teased.

   "You yourself admitted you taught Vinnie 'everything he knows'. What do you think?" she deadpanned, earning another laugh. She sighed, amusement fading, and looked down at her hands, idly picking at the chipping polish on her thumb. "I just … don't want it to be like it was before, with Jack," she confessed. "I don't want Charley to end up hurt if something goes wrong. And there is so much that could go horribly wrong if she pursues this."

   She jumped when two big hands came to rest on her shoulders, cupping her neck. Startled, she looked up to meet Stoker's serious gaze, shivering as his thumbs lightly caressed her jawline. "I told you already, it's sweet of you to worry about your cousin, but ultimately useless," he said gently. "She's a grown woman with a good head on her shoulders, and what you need to do is start trustin' that she knows what she's doin'. It ain't like she's goin' into this whole thing blind and deaf. She's as aware of the risks as you are, an' the fact she's choosin' to get involved anyway says a whole lot about how serious she is."

   "Yeah, Throttle already gave me this lecture," she muttered, annoyed. "But that's the whole problem. Charley might be plenty serious, but what about him? He doesn't strike me as the commitment type. He seems a lot more like the love 'em and leave 'em type to me."

   "And maybe at some point he was. But if it makes you feel better, I'm thinkin' he's plenty serious about Charley-girl. She ain't the kind of gal a mouse just tosses aside when he's tired of her." His mouth twitched into a smile. "She can handle a bazooka with the best of 'em, for one thing. Vinnie'd be a fool to piss her off that badly."

   She huffed a short laugh, lips curling, and his expression softened. "There now. That's more like it." One hand slid up to cup her cheek, which warmed noticeably beneath his palm as she flushed, embarrassed by his entirely-too-close proximity. "Don't worry your pretty head about those two," he murmured. "They'll work out their own issues just fine."

   She shifted uncomfortably as he seemed to draw even closer, his head lowering slightly. She found herself caught in his deep gaze; dark, enigmatic eyes the color of cherry wood held hers as warm, coffee-scented breath ghosted across her lips. Her heart thudded loudly as the rich scent of hay and sunshine tickled her senses.

   And her hand curled into a tight fist as the faintest touch of soft fur brushed her mouth…

   Until the moment was shattered as effectively as a brick thrown through a window by the loud, obnoxious clearing of a throat behind them.

   Alley squealed in shock, instinctively shoving an equally-startled Stoker away from her as she tried to bolt in the other direction. Unfortunately, his tail—which had at some point wound itself tightly about her ankle���kept her from getting very far. She found herself sprawling on the hard floor with a pained oomph as what little air remained in her lungs left them in a rush. She lay there for a second, stunned, gasping, wondering what the hell had almost just happened. Then she flipped over to find Charley standing over her, arms crossed, eyebrow cocked, a grin twitching at her lips as her sharp gaze bounced back and forth between them. "Did I disrupt something?" she asked, all innocence.

   "Yep," Stoker snorted, while at the same time Alley yelped, "No!"

   The grin widened. "Well? Which is it?"

   Alley, still flushed, glanced at Stoker and quickly away again, staring instead at her knee, which had started to bleed from a thin slice across the skin. "Band-aid," she muttered, climbing to her feet and bolting for the safety of the bathroom.

   Charley watched her go, then turned back to Stoker and shook her head. "What are you doing to that poor girl?" she sighed, sounding more amused than exasperated.

   He shrugged. "Just tryin' to help out in my own way." He winked. "Showin' her the charms of bein' with a Martian mouse."

   "That's sweet, Stoke, but I don't think she's ready to accept your 'charms' just yet," she replied dryly.

   He shrugged, looking smug. "Seemed pretty receptive to me."

   "Uh-huh." She shot him a droll glance. "From my point of view, it looked more like she was receptively gearin' up to deliver a hard punch to your soft little nose. Good thing I was there to step in and save your ego for you."

   He snorted, clearly disbelieving. She laughed. "I'm tellin' you, don't underestimate her. She dislocated a guy's shoulder once, for gettin' too fresh when she wasn't interested. That takes a certain amount of strength, ya know." She picked up the half-empty mug, took a sip and grimaced, before dumping the cooled contents and pouring fresh coffee into it. "Come to think of it, that's why she got kicked out of the self-defense class she was takin'. Little perv was the star pupil and the teacher's son." She chuckled. "Her mom was horrified. Her dad couldn't have been prouder."

   Stoker raised both eyebrows, grinning. "Well, that just makes it all the more fun."

   "What? Gettin' your clock cleaned by a little girl?" she teased, nudging him in the side as she handed him the cup. She held onto it when he tried to take it, though, meeting his gaze. Her eyes were serious. "Honestly, Stoke. Don't play with her," she warned. "She isn't some bimbo off the streets, she's my cousin. And I don't wanna see her get hurt any more than she wants to see me get hurt. Got it?"

   He smiled, gently ruffling her hair. "Understood, Chief," he replied. "I promise not to go overboard."

   She waited for more, and when nothing else was forthcoming, huffed an exasperated sigh. "And that's all the promise I'm gettin' outta you, isn't it?"

   He chuckled. "What can I say? A mouse knows what he wants when he sees it, an' goes after it with everything he's got. Life's too short to waste holdin' back."

   She studied him. "You really serious about her?"

   He shrugged. "Who knows? But she's certainly got my attention."

   She smirked. "I gotta admit, in the years I've known you, I've never seen you go after a female with this much … enthusiasm before. I was startin' to think your womanizing reputation was a bit undeserved." She winked at him.

   "Oh, I've had my share of flings back in the day," he sniffed, crossing his arms. "One or two of 'em were even gettin' serious, b'fore I pulled the plug. My reputation is rightly earned, thanks very much."

   She rolled her eyes. "That ain't something to be proud of, you know. And it sure won't impress Alley."

   He sighed heavily, offering a helpless shrug. "What can ya do? A planetary war zone's hardly the right place t' settle down and raise a family. B'tween constant off-planet missions, leadin' the Freedom Fighters, knowin' there's someone waitin' for you to come home and wonderin' if this'll be your last mission…" He shrugged again. "Always just seemed more intelligent to cut and run. I never wanted to leave yet another widow behind. There're too many of 'em up there as it is." His eyes took on an unfocused, faraway look, recalling certain memories, and Charley's expression softened. She offered a sympathetic smile and a light caress over his cheek, trying to distract him from his sudden melancholy.

   It worked. He blinked, the sadness clearing from his expression as he straightened and offered a grin that seemed just a bit forced. "Anyway, there's a reason I came back," he told her. "Throttle radioed me and told me the good news 'bout you and Vinnie. I hear some congratulations are in order."

   She squirmed, embarrassed. "It's just … nothing really happened," she mumbled. "We both came to an understanding, is all."

   "Bah." He gave her ear a playful tweak. "You ain't foolin' no one. You're so happy you're about ready to start climbin' the walls."

   She pouted at him. "Stop probin' at me. It ain't polite."

   He chuckled. "I don't have to. Yer practically shoutin' it from the rooftops," he teased. "Anyhow, I come bearing gifts. Thought you could use 'em. And it's traditional to give gifts on such a glad occasion."

   "Really." She eyed him skeptically. "Just for a pair of friends becomin' a couple?"

   "Weeelll…" He waved his hand in a so-so gesture. "There's a bit more involved than that, but we'll just skip a few steps, right?" He nodded at the pouch sitting on the table. "Have a looksee an' tell me if you can use 'em."

   Well, now he had her curiosity piqued. Charley opened the pouch and peered inside, and her eyes went wide as her jaw dropped in astonishment. Stoker grinned at her expression.

   "So. Will they help you out?" he asked, sipping his coffee.

   "Wha—These are—" She pulled out a large gemstone and held it up to the light. It looked like a sapphire, flashing with dark fire. "Jiminy Christmas, is this thing real?"

   He chuckled. "Yep."

   She dug through the bag, eyes wide. "And all these others?"

   "Of course. I figure they're probably valuable. Most of 'em were set in jewelry, but I needed the metal for my … project. Not a lot of diamonds in there, either. I needed most of those, too. Sapphires and rubies, they don't focus energy as well as diamonds so they aren't any help to me."

   She frowned. "You building a super laser or something?"

   "Something like that." His eyes crinkled as he smiled at her. "You can probably sell 'em, right?"

   "Where did you get them?"

   "Found these and a big stash of money in a cave a few years back, when I was scoutin' around further west for new workspace. Think it must've been one of those old outlaw hideouts, like you see in the movies. There was all sorts of stuff in there; old guns, supplies, that sorta thing. Most've it was rotted out, but those jewels just needed a bit of cleanin' up, and they were good as new."

   "How is it nobody else ever stumbled into that cave in all these years?" Charley asked.

   "Cave-in," he grunted. "It was hidden pretty deep in the mountain, and the whole place was closed up. Figured by that point whoever'd left that stuff there wouldn't be needin' it anymore, so I helped myself. Didn't stay in the cave, though. Still too unstable to make a safe work environment."

   Charley sighed, dropping the gemstones back into the bag. "Stoke, this is incredibly generous of you, but there's no way I can accept this gift." She tried to hand the pouch to him, but he pushed it back into her hands.

   "Don't be stubborn," he scolded. "You need these more 'n I do. What am I gonna do with 'em? Not like I can walk into a store and sell 'em. But you can, and you can use that money to get your garage in order."

   Her mouth tightened into a thin line. "Alley been flappin' her gums again?"

   "Nope. Throttle," he replied easily.

   "I don't need charity," she snapped. "I spent ten years building this business. By myself. And I'll keep it goin' just like I always have. By myself. I know you mean well, but please just keep yourselves out of it." She slapped the pouch down on the table and turned to stalk out of the kitchen, heading back to the garage to reopen.

   Stoker sighed, running a hand over his face. "Well, that went about as well as I'd expected," he snorted to himself.

   "I could've told you she wouldn't take 'em."

   He looked up to find Alley peeking around the corner at him, her expression blank. "Don't suppose you could—"

   "Nope. I can't." She smiled a little, moving further around the corner. "She's made it pretty clear she's not interested in anything I have to say about the matter."

   "I don't think it's your opinions that pissed her off. I think it's the fact you voiced 'em in front of the guys. That lady's got far too much pride for her own good. And I guess we all kinda treat her like a delicate little flower sometimes, and that pisses her off, too, because we all know she's anything but."

   Alley hummed, stepping fully into the kitchen and picking up the pouch to riffle through it. She withdrew a pendant on a thick silver chain, set with a large sapphire and ringed in smaller diamonds. "Chris told me his step-mom has ties with the diamond exchange," she said thoughtfully, examining the stones. "She could probably get this stuff appraised. Maybe even find some buyers. The jewelry that's still intact is probably worth even more than the loose gems, just from age alone. Antiques are a big commodity among collectors."

   He shrugged. "Won't do much good if Charley won't accept 'em. Even if you went and sold 'em behind her back, she'd never take the money they bring in."

   "It is a conundrum."

   He raised an eyebrow. "You got any bright ideas?"

   She sighed, dropped the pendant into the pouch and leaned back against the table. "Not really, no. Nothing that wouldn't piss her off even more, anyway." She offered a shrug and the bag of jewels.

   He held out a hand to stop her. "Keep 'em," he told her. "I don't need 'em."

   She blinked, astonished. "What'll I do with them?"

   "Whatever you want. Sell 'em, wear 'em … they're yours now. Anyway, I'd like to stick around longer and talk, but I got some work that needs my attention, so I'll be goin' now."

   "What kind of work do you do down here?" she asked, suspicious. "You're always coming and going, and nobody ever knows where."

   He pressed a finger to his mouth with a wink. "That's a secret."

   "Of course it is." She rolled her eyes. "Well, have fun plotting world domination or whatever. I got plenty of work of my own to do, so … you can see yourself out, I'm sure." She ducked under his hand when he tried to pet her hair, sauntering from the kitchen without a backward glance. He shook his head with a whimsical smile as he watched her go. Two steps forward … and a massive shove back.

   Sometimes the game could be as exasperating as it was fun. But that just made winning it all the more worthwhile in the end.

Next

[seventyfiveapples]

Shaken

CHAPTER EIGHT

Bright / Nick Jakoby x OFC

Previous Chapters: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven.

Story Summary: Nick receives an unexpected invitation from a charming middle school teacher with a mysterious past. 

Billie took a gulp of the stale diesel fuel the hospital was passing off as coffee and sat up straighter in the scratchy waiting room chair, attempting to will herself awake as she waited for any news about Lucy or Gilda.

For the last two days, Billie was either at work or at this hospital, waiting and drinking this shitty coffee.

Lucy was going to be okay, at least. The plaster had cracked into smaller pieces before hitting her, resulting in mostly surface injuries: a head wound that bled profusely but that was easily stitched, a concussion, a broken shin, and numerous cuts and bruises. Remarkably, she did not require surgery and would most likely be released in another day after a bit more observation. She was in and out of consciousness, but Billie was grateful she would pull through.

Gilda was another story. Her injuries were far more severe and she hadn’t yet opened her eyes since the earthquake. 

Billie had insisted on riding in the police car as Nick drove to the ER, applying pressure to Lucy’s wounds as they rode so that she wouldn’t bleed out on the way, and trying to keep both as still as possible.

At the ER, one of the intake nurses asked for Gilda’s next of kin... and Billie was gutted as to realize that Gilda didn’t have a single name to enter. She’d lied and given her own name, saying she was an aunt. No one questioned her.

Since then, she’d kind of thought of herself that way, and since Lucy was more or less stable at this point she was glued to Gilda’s bedside. Every few minutes she looked up to scan the child for a sign - any sign - of movement. Nothing so far. She sank back into her chair and resolved to wait as long as needed.

Her heart broke at the possibility of Gilda waking up in her hospital room completely alone. How could such a good-natured kid have no one to look out for her?

It broke her heart even more to think she might never wake up.

Like most orcs, family was everything for Billie. She grew up idolizing her two older brothers, hoping to become a Fogteeth member herself someday.

When she was Gilda’s age, Billie was a real tomboy and was often treated as “one of the guys,” or at least like one of the guys’ little brothers. They used her as a "lookout" for some of their small-scale robberies and she was ashamed to remember feeling proud about that. As a kid, she saw her brothers as The Good Guys, no matter what, and the rest of the world - humans, elves, etc. - were villains. She'd justified some of their criminal activities by the idea that anything that benefited orcs and hurt humans was somehow righting the injustices she saw around her.

As she go a bit older, she started to understand that the world didn't work in absolutes. The more she understood about the world outside of her neighborhood, the more all the stories she told herself grew cracks, and those cracks spiderwebbed out, connecting facts and shattering long-held assumptions. Maybe, she was forced to admit, maybe her brothers weren't The Good Guys.

The first time she wondered who, exactly, her brothers really were was the first time she saw them actually hurt someone, punching and kicking a shop owner they were robbing. He hadn't done anything to draw their attention, he just happened to run a convenience store. The second time, the time she really pulled back, was when her first girlfriend had been shot in the leg by a stray bullet. The third time was the final straw. She was serving as a lookout for another convenience store robbery, and a small human child - no older than 6 or 7 - came up to her and asked who the men were who were talking to her daddy. Billie knew the child couldn't hear the sick thuds of body blows that her orcish ears detected, and she just stared at the child, unable to speak.

She went home that night and cried harder than she'd ever cried in her life, feeling guilty, torn, and trapped in a life she was finally starting to understand and resent.

Oddly, it was through the encouragement of a human teacher in high school that Billie built up the courage to confront her brothers. Her teacher saw real promise  in Billie and encouraged her to apply for college, something no one else in her family had done. She passed along scholarship opportunities and articles about how to strengthen college applications. She asked her every week about her plans. Without that teacher, Billie didn't know if she could envision a different life than the one that was slowly taking hold of her.

Because of that teacher, Billie had made it her life's mission to be a positive influence on others, especially other orcs. She knew the impact that a teacher could have and teaching became her goal.

For their part, her brothers supported her in her decision not to follow in their footsteps, even though she never hid how she felt about their criminal activities. It was an uneasy version of "agreeing to disagree" that seemed to somehow work: Billie drew clear boundaries and her brothers respected them. The three of them had enough love and devotion to keep that commitment... at least, that’s what Billie hoped.

 Nick walked into the hospital after his shift with arms full: flowers for Lucy and Gilda and a cup of what he hoped was “some decent fucking coffee,” per Billie’s request.

He walked in Gilda’s room and held out the coffee to Billie.

“Sweet Jirak, thank you,” she told him, shaking her head to wake herself.

"You’re welcome. Any news?”

"Lucy's been awake, off and on all day. She'll be thrilled to see you. No change for Gilda."

"And you? Have you been here all-"

"I'm not leaving," she snapped. It sounded harsher than she meant it. Nick didn't take her response personally. He placed Gilda's flowers - a small pot of violets - on the windowsill.

"If you want," he said in a soft voice, "I can come in here after I visit with Lucy so you can take a break, get a bite to eat or something."

Billie nodded but said nothing. Nick patted her shoulder gently before leaving the room.

To his delight, Lucy was awake when he came in, and all smiles.

"Hey, cutie!" she greeted him. 

"Hey, yourself! These are for you," he said, placing a large flower arrangement on the counter facing her.

"They're beautiful! Come here and kiss me so I can thank you!" Nick happily obliged. "The doctors said I might get to go home tomorrow. Are you free? Maybe I could make you some dinner or something." He smiled as he relaxed into a chair by her bedside. Seeing her covered in bruises and cuts was torture, but he knew she wouldn't want his pity, so he tried not to stare.

"That would be nice. How are you feeling?"

"Oh, you know, like a building fell on me," she smirked. He reached out a hand for hers and slowly brought it to his mouth, kissing it. If he had sustained the kind of injuries she had, he'd already be back at work, thanks to orcs' healing abilities. Then again, if the debris had fallen on his head, as it appeared it would, he wouldn't be here at all. He couldn't believe she had risked her life for him.

"Well, do me a favor and try not to leap in front of any more falling debris."

She shrugged. "I can't make any promises. Hey, at least when I'm in here, there's people everywhere. I don't have to worry about Dave for a few days." She looked at him and tried to affect a casual tone as she asked, "Any news on that front, by the way? My car is back at the house - anyone get close to it?" They'd decided to leave the GPS tracker in place on her car now that they knew about it, in the hopes that they could use it against him at some point.

He just shook his head. All of their leads seemed to evaporate, and he felt like he was letting her down, time after time. 

Worrying about Dave was both terrifying and exhausting for them both. She thought of ways to change the subject. She started to wonder how Nick would react if she pulled him down into the hospital bed and started a vigorous make out session...

Some commotion from the hall stopped her from finding out.

“GUYS!” cried Billie from several doors down. “It’s Gilda- she’s awake. She’s awake!”

A day later, and Dave was ready to make his move. He’d already spent more time on this than he’d thought possible, and he was more than just angry, now. He wanted to be sure that bitch paid for it. He prepared two syringes full of sedatives, wrapped up a knife for good measure, and headed to the hospital in order to arrive before the orc cop’s shift ended.

He looked in a mirror: his disguise wasn’t perfect but it didn’t have to be. The plan was to be in the hospital for five minutes, tops.

This bullshit would end today.

Sunshine! 

It felt so good, Gilda thought, raising her face to the sky and breathing in deeply. She was outside for the first time in three days, and she was trying to enjoy every second. Ms. Billie would be here any moment and Gilda wanted to surprise her by casually sitting on the bench outside, although the nurse was anxious to get her back in.

”FIVE more minutes, please?” Gilda pleaded, then pulled an over-dramatic face. “I almost died.”

The nurse rolled his eyes but smiled and relented. Gilda smiled and got ready to relax on the bench again, when suddenly - BAM.

A man rushing past had crashed right into Gilda, knocking her on the ground. He was tall, with a lean frame, and he didn't even pause to apologize as he rushed in. He was dressed in scrubs, but they didn't smell like they'd been inside this hospital before, ever. In fact, the smell lingering after him was altogether... peculiar to Gilda.

“Hey asshole, watch where you’re going!” Called the nurse, helping Gilda up. Gilda wasn't hurt but she felt unsettled. The man radiated hostility and anger. He wanted to hurt someone, she thought, but she didn't know why. 

Sniffing her arm where he had bumped right into her, she sensed an odd combination of smells. First, the ocean. She could smell seaweed and the kinds of fish that swam close to the shores. Next were the smells of fuel and creosote: odd chemical smells orcs could spot a mile away. Hovering just behind those, however, was something else that seemed completely out of place. Maybe she was mistaken? The last smell was something... sweet. Cookies? Pies? 

She forgot about it as the nurse helped her back inside to her room.

"What do you fucking mean, someone knocked her over?!" Gilda heard Billie shout on the other side of the door. She'd been out there for a while, at first talking to Gilda's social worker, and now yelling at the hospital staff. "Aren't you guys supposed to help her get better, not get her more fucking injured? You know that girl's a goddamn hero, right?!"

Gilda's heart swelled as Billie yelled. She was almost able to stop wondering what Billie and the social worker had been talking about. The dormitories at Saint Emydius were nice, and there were a few other students who stayed there, but she loved being in this hospital. There were so many people around all the time, and they all seemed to care about her.

Especially Ms. Billie. She was funny and even though she cussed a lot, and brought her homework - seriously, homework in the hospital, Ms. Billie? - Gilda knew she really cared about her. She tried to remember if this was what it was like living with her orc family...

After a few minutes, Billie came in. She walked right up to the bed with an excited expression that made her face look like it was lit from behind. She tried to talk in a serious was. 

"Gilda, the doctors say you are almost ready to leave the hospital. What do you think about that?"

Gilda's heart fell. She knew Billie was expecting her to be happy about this, and forced a smile.

"Oh... good news!"

"Well, the bad news is... the dormitories at school took some damage from the quake, and it will take at least a month to fix. I talked to your social worker, and she says - if it's all right with you, and if I pass a home inspection - and of course if you want to, you could come and stay with me and Miss Harris for a while." Billie looked nervous as she spoke.

Gilda had never seen Billie nervous before, she thought she was pretty much fearless. It touched her to realize how much she was hoping for Gilda to say yes. "What do you think?"

Gilda's eyes filled with tears and she couldn't speak. This was the best news she could have imagined. She sat up straight and pulled Billie into a tight hug.

"Yes! Yes! I want to stay with you, Ms. Billie!" 

Only a quick moment later, Billie burst into Lucy's room, beaming, and ran right up to her bedside. She was so excited that she didn't even notice the stricken look on Lucy's face.

"Lucy, honey, guess what? Gilda's going to stay with us for a couple of weeks!"

Lucy opened and closed her mouth, seemingly in shock.

"I know, I know. I should have talked to you about it first. Aw crap, is this a problem? What are you-" Suddenly, her heightened orcish senses realized that something was very wrong in this room, and it had nothing to do with her news.

She realized Lucy was trying to draw her attention to someone or something behind her.

Billie tried to turn around slowly, casually, but this small movement was all it took for the strange man in scrubs to leap towards her and plunge a syringe into her neck. Lucy tried to scream as her friend slumped to the ground but Dave’s hand was already covering her mouth. He had another syringe in his hand, pointed towards her.

"Miss me, Jennie? Or should I call you Lucy now?" Before she could respond, Dave plunged the syringe in her neck and deposited her unconscious body into a hospital wheelchair. He tucked the orc's body behind the hospital bed and pulled the door mostly shut, then, as casually as possible, he wheeled Lucy down to the elevator and piled her in his car.

Nick had requested to leave a little early that afternoon, and he headed to the hospital. Lucy was getting discharged that day. He wanted to drive her home himself, and spend a little time together. It was a gorgeous, sunny day, with no sign of cloud or - he sniffed the air - earthquakes. He strolled onto the hall where Lucy's room was and noticed that her door was shut. He rapped a few times and waited for a response.

"Hmmm..." came a sound from the room. The voice sounded female, but it didn't sound like Lucy. His brow furrowed as it became more clear. "Heh- help. HELP!"

Nick flung the door open and saw Billie's hand waving from behind Lucy's hospital bed as she struggled to stand. "HELP! SOMEBODY!"

Lucy's bed was empty.

@beastlybfs @bonnietakesnosh-t @cinnamonroll-issues @abigfanofyours @fantasticauthoroafzonk

[ghosthunthq]

For: @books-tea-ghosts

By: @snavej

A massive thank you to @teaaddictedghosthunter for editing!

Day 1: Monday

“And everything is in her bag,” Lin finished and handed the large backpack to Oliver.

“We’ll be fine,” Gene insisted while bouncing the toddler on his hip. “Won’t we, Maggie?”

“Yes,” Maggie replied with a vigorous nod, causing her two ponytails to bounce on either side of her head.

Madoka leaned over and kissed her daughter.

“You behave for Gene and Noll, won’t you?” she asked in a gentle voice, caressing Maggie chubby cheek.

“Yes Mama!”

“Bye bye Maggie!”

The toddler’s parents waved as they left. Oliver rolled his eyes and shut the door behind them as he mumbled about letting the heat out.

“Bye bye!” Maggie echoed. She wriggled against Gene and ordered him to put her— “Down!”

Gene placed her on the floor where she wobbled for a second before taking off down the hallway.

“Oh jeesh!” Gene went haring after Maggie. He kept his hands outstretched, ready to catch the toddler at any moment.

Oliver, meanwhile, shrugged and followed at an idle pace. When he caught up with his twin and their charge, Maggie was opening and closing all of the kitchen cupboards that she could reach purely for the pleasure of looking inside them.

“Maggie, why don’t we go and do some drawing?” Gene suggested with an encouraging smile.

“No!”

Maggie had not turned to speak to Gene, but had continued searching the cupboards and drawers as Gene hovered over her, ready to protect her from whatever danger she may find.

“Or watch TV?”

“No!”

The toddler looked around and giggled at the look of frustration on Gene’s face.

“No!” Maggie repeated, clapping her hands together as a grin spread across her features.

“She takes after her mother, I see,” Oliver commented.

“Book!” Maggie tottered past Gene and grabbed onto Oliver’s trouser leg. “Book!”

“She wants you to read to her,” Gene guessed.

“I gathered,” Oliver replied before looking down at Maggie’s eager face. “I am not reading to you.”

“No! Book!”

Oliver rolled his eyes and glared at Gene, who was leaning against the counter and looking amused.

“I’ll read to you,” Gene said hastily, jumping away from the work surface.

“No.”

Maggie pouted at Gene and stuck her tongue out before returning to tugging on Oliver’s clothing. Gene swooped down and picked Maggie up.

“Come on, let’s leave Noll alone. I’ll read to you.”

Maggie’s pout grew as Gene carried her away from Oliver, who in turn began making a pot of tea. He flicked the kettle on and had just found a mug when his phone started ringing.

He answered it.

“Yes, Mai?”

“How’s it going? Have you killed Maggie yet?”

“She’s been here a total of four minutes,” Oliver deadpanned. “I have not done anything to her.”

“Is she okay? Have you made her cry yet?”

“Gene has taken charge of her,” Oliver said, “She has not cried—”

A sudden wail from the living room cut him off.

“What’s that? What did you do?” Mai’s frantic voice asked. “I knew I shouldn’t have gone to this damned conference.”

“Mai, that conference is important for your career. Gene and I will manage perfectly well. Now if you will excuse me, I need to find out what on earth the idiot did to make the child cry.”

Oliver hung up, somewhat offended that Mai thought he could not manage five minutes without killing a child. Especially when Gene was the one that upset the toddler.

Oliver abandoned his half-made tea and strode through to the living room.

“What did you do?”

“Maggie stubbed her toe,” Gene explained. He was holding Maggie close to his chest and shushing the toddler. However, when Maggie spotted Oliver, she wriggled free of his grip and latched, once again, onto Oliver’s trouser leg.

“Hug!” she demanded.

“No,” Oliver replied as he folded his arms across his chest.

“Hug now!” she repeated with a pouting frown.

“Noll, it won’t kill you,” Gene muttered.

Oliver glared first at Gene then down at the toddler. He sighed heavily when his stare had no effect on Maggie. He picked her up and held her at arm’s length. Maggie reached out for him, still pouting.

Oliver sighed again and drew her in for a hug. She wrapped her arms around his neck and giggled. Gene now took to pouting.

“What?” Oliver mouthed at him.

“Nothing,” he replied, looking away.

Oliver rolled his eyes and pulled Maggie off of him.

“Gene is going to read to you,” he told her as he placed her back on the floor.

Oliver missed the disappointed expression Maggie sent his way as he left the room. He was keen to escape before he could be roped into any more ridiculous activities. He returned to the kitchen, made his tea and headed to his room.

He opened his email account and found one addressed to him and Gene from Madoka and Lin. The subject line read ‘How to take care of a toddler.’

Oliver took a long gulp of tea and opened the attachment. His eyes scanned the document in front of him. It consisted of a daily routine, food plan, guides on how to wash a toddler as well as how to stimulate her during playtime.

Oliver yawned and closed the document. It was Monday today and Madoka and Lin would only be away until Friday. How hard could it be?

A shriek from downstairs reached Oliver’s ears. He drunk a little more of his tea, having expected Gene to deal with whatever the problem may be. Yet the shrieking continued.

Oliver finished his drink and headed towards the noise.

“What’s going on?” he asked his brother.

“She won’t stop crying!” Gene replied, flapping his hands about. “We were reading and then—”

Oliver glanced at the clock on the wall.

“She is tired,” he concluded. “The schedule Madoka sent indicated she has usually had a nap by now.”

“But we haven’t even sorted out her sleeping arrangements yet!”

“We’ll put her in Mai’s room,” Oliver said.

A sudden tug on his trousers caused him to look down. Maggie had latched onto him, yet again, and was now wiping her nose on him as she continued to bawl.

“I’ll do it,” Gene said, reaching forwards to pick her up. But as soon as his hands touched Maggie, her wailing increased twofold.

“I’ll do it,” Oliver corrected.

He picked Maggie up and imitated the shushing noises Gene had made earlier with as much fake empathy as he could muster. Maggie settled a little, her head resting on his shoulder. By the time he had reached Mai’s room, Maggie had fallen asleep.

He placed the toddler in Mai’s bed and tucked her in, leaving her to her nap. He crept out of the room to find Gene, who had relocated to the kitchen was reading the email Madoka and Lin had sent on his phone.

“We have, like, no toys.”

“There are a few in the bag,” Oliver countered.

“Yeah, but have you seen how much ‘playtime’ is on this schedule thing?” Gene asked.

“I briefly glanced at it.”

“This was such a bad idea.”

“Humans are surprisingly resilient creatures,” Oliver said. “She will survive a week with us.”

“You are relying on the resilience of the human species? Really?”

Oliver shrugged.

“I have some work to do,” he muttered. “Are you willing to cook for this evening?”

“Yeah,” Gene mumbled, mind clearly elsewhere, “Yeah, I’ll sort something out.”

Oliver nodded his appreciation and returned to his room. He worked in peace and quiet for almost two hours, an unexpected bonus considering their new house guest.

Gene’s muffled voice roused Oliver from his state of concentration. He could not quite make out what his brother was saying, but from the tone of his voice, he knew Gene was annoyed.

He exited his bedroom to find Gene’s bedroom door open.

“—not supposed to use that!”

A childish giggle told Oliver that Maggie had woken up.

“Give it here!”

Oliver entered Gene’s bedroom to find Maggie clutching at what he recognised as Gene’s stage makeup. Although Gene had not been part of the local Amateur Dramatics group for a few years, he religiously maintained his stage makeup collection, just in case it was needed.

Maggie, however, was oblivious to this and thus had used the various powders, lipsticks and creams as facepaint. She had given herself surprisingly symmetrical red panda eyes. The rest of her skin had been coloured a sickly green colour and a lot of what Oliver recognised as foundation had been used to ‘style’ her hair.

He smirked at the distraught look on Gene’s face.

“Noll. Can you clean her up while I salvage what I can?”

“Of course,” Oliver replied, turning to Maggie. “Come on.”

Maggie giggled again and clapped her hands before holding them out to Oliver, who sighed and picked her up. He kept her at arm’s length until they reached the bathroom.

After putting the toilet seat lid down, Oliver sat Maggie on the lid and set the water running in the sink. After a minute, when the water had warmed up, Oliver grabbed a clean flannel and wetted it before wiping the mess off of Maggie’s face with as much care as he could be bothered with.

“There,” he said finally.

Maggie’s face had reddened from his scrubbing, but she had not cried and so Oliver saw this as a success.

“Hungry!” Maggie declared as she wriggled to the floor. “Foo now!”

Oliver followed her from the bathroom to the stairs, where Maggie bum shuffled down them. Impressed with her ability to get around, despite being a little unsteady, Oliver continued after Maggie until they reached the kitchen.

They found Gene stirring a pan and scowling. Oliver could hear him muttering under his breath as he did so. But knowing his words were likely to be about his ruined makeup collection, Oliver made no effort to induce a conversation.

“Food is almost ready, lay the table.”

Oliver nodded. He reached down and picked Maggie up. He sat her in a chair and quickly realised they would have a problem. Her head just reached the height of the main table.

“Can’t see!”

Maggie obviously saw the problem too.

“Wait there, I will set the table.”

“Can’t see!” Maggie repeated, reaching up and banging the bit of table closest to her head.

“I know,” Oliver repeated. His hands worked at setting place mats and cutlery for three, while his eyes remained on Maggie. The toddler appeared content making a racket.

“Noll, she can’t use metal cutlery!” Gene admonished. “There were plastic ones in that bag.”

“Keep an eye on her while I get them.”

When Oliver returned, Maggie had stood up on the chair so that she could see the table. She had taken the liberty of rearranging the cutlery that she could reach so that the knives and forks formed crosses.

Oliver replaced Maggie’s cutlery with the plastic spork and straightened the other sets.

“No!” Maggie threatened tears at Oliver ruining her hard work. But a crisis was averted by the arrival of the food.

“You gave her as much as an adult,” Oliver accused.

Gene sighed, but did not respond to Oliver’s comment.

“Eat up, Maggie,” Gene encouraged as he sat.

The twins began eating, not realising for a few minutes that Maggie was struggling to eat herself.

She began to make displeased whining sounds, gaining the attention of both young men. Oliver immediately slid her place closer and cut up her food into smaller mouthfuls.

“There. Eat.”

Maggie tried again. When Gene finished his own food, he took her spork and fed her with the aid of a few imaginary planes and choo choo trains.

After Maggie had eaten some food — neither twin was entirely sure if the quantity was enough — Oliver sat Maggie down in front of his laptop and streamed some children’s show for her to watch.

They were midway through the washing up when Maggie tottered into the kitchen.

“Where Mama?”

“On holiday,” Oliver replied as he dried one of the plates.

“Where holiday?” Maggie stressed each syllable of the last word.

“Paris.”

Maggie’s frown grew.

“Where Mama?” she repeated, her perturbed state of mind evident. “Where Dada?”

Gene dried his hands and bent down to Maggie’s level.

“They’re not here right now. We’re looking after you,” he said in a soft voice.

Maggie’s bottom lip wobbled dangerously. Gene’s face morphed from worry to sheer panic.

“Maggie,” he said hastily, “It’s ok—”

She bawled. Noisy tears streamed down her face as she plonked down to the floor and covered her face with her chubby little hands.

“I don’t know what you expected,” Oliver muttered. “She was bound to get upset about her parents leaving at some point.”

“But they talked to her about it,” Gene replied.

Oliver raised an eyebrow at his twin.

“I thought I was supposed to be the idiotic insensitive one.”

Gene’s mouth fell open, insulted. Oliver put away the final piece of kitchenware and picked up Maggie, who latched her arms around his neck again.

“Mama,” she moaned into his neck.

“She’ll be back soon,” Oliver insisted. “Let’s go and watch something while we wait.”

Gene gaped after Oliver.

“Who are you and what did you do with my brother?”

Unseen by Gene, Oliver rolled his eyes. He settled Maggie back in front of his laptop, but Maggie would not release his arm. So Oliver sat down beside the toddler and read while Maggie watched some ridiculous cartoon.

When he joined them, Gene pouted at the lavish attention Maggie was giving his brother, but did not say anything for fear of making Maggie cry again.

“Where is she going to sleep?” he asked in a soft voice some time later.

Oliver shrugged.

“Mai’s room?”

Gene nodded, not having a better suggestion.

Some time later, once Maggie had fallen asleep watching cartoons, Oliver relocated her to Mai’s bed again.

They had survived the first day.

[sketchy-vore]

Feraltale (3): Pap

Yeeeeey, next chapter is finally done! I hope you like it.

First part

Previously

Of all the things I expected to come home to, this wasn’t one of them. That didn’t mean it wasn’t a nice surprise.

Sans was sleeping (nothing new) with that tiny not-monster of his snuggled up against his chest, tiny head resting on his shoulder (very new!).

Sans had been working for days to gain the tiny thing’s trust, harder than I’d seen him work for anything for a long, long time. Maybe it didn’t seem like much work, but it was quite impressive for something he did without being pressured. So I felt my soul make a little jump in my chest to finally see some progress. Maybe he would finally feel more encouraged to do stuff again, that lazybones had far too many nap times.

And it looks like I was gonna have to end this one as well. Too bad, they looked so content.

I slowly walked over towards the duo and lightly tapped my brother’s shoulder, the one that wasn’t occupied by a tiny head. His eyes blinked open slowly, looking a little bleary. When he was awake though I made a head movement towards the entrance, trying to look stern. He had a job to do after all. My glare almost faltered as he sagged, letting out a wistful sigh as he lowered the not-monster into their nest. This woke them up as well, evident by the way they stirred and rubbed at their eyes with their stubby paws. Sans gave them a tiny pat on the head before finally sauntering out of the den.

I guess Sans really didn’t want to go. I couldn’t really blame him, especially now that the tiny creature had actually looked so relaxed in his presence. But what has to be done has to be done.

I looked back over to the nest, expecting for the young not-monster to have gone back to sleep…only to see them sitting there wide awake, little eyes staring up at me.

I immediately froze under their gaze and they didn’t break it either. Well, this was kinda awkward. I knew by now that the little thing wasn’t trying to challenge me, I guess it’s just a nervous tactic to prevent me from attacking or something. Same thing might work with Undyne. But nonetheless it still made a nervous shudder crawl up my spine.

I broke eye contact and walked over to the ‘stove’. I didn’t want to accidentally undo Sans’ work by scaring his little friend. Better to just let them rest for now and make something nice to celebrate, encourage social behavior with a special reward. Maybe I could make some spaghetti, I bet our guest would like that.

I didn’t cook that often. Cooking wasn’t common among monsters, mostly because we had to make all the ingredients ourselves. Premade ingredients like noodles or even flour were hard to get by, and I was lucky that my brother had enough connections with the capital that he could sometimes get those. So I prefer to reserve actual cooking for special occasions.

Though I had gotten some help from Undyne, I had had to figure out most of the techniques by myself. And I still hadn’t perfected my skills, but I bet I was the best cook you could find in the underground.

Our ‘stove’ was an improvisation of both Sans and I.

Our current Royal Inventor had come up with a surprisingly simple invention to make ice cold places like Snowdin a little more habitable. Lava from Hotland would flow through channels within the rock and be partially exposed inside our dens, giving just enough warmth to make the spaces warm and cozy.

When I expressed my desire to learn the culinary arts to Sans he’d spent quite a while looking for a metal plate in the dumps, one that could fit over the vein of lava that ran along the back of our den and wouldn’t melt under the heat.

I was startled from my preparations by a soft pitter patter. As the sound stopped I slowly turned my head down and to the side. There stood the tiny not-monster.

I froze once again, trapped into another staring competition.

The little creature was in the exact same state, but after a few more second they took a deep breath, wiggled their fingers, and forced their shoulders to relaxed. I did my best to follow suit. They were probably just curious, maybe they were even seeing if they could trust me too.

That thought made my soul leap with excitement, but I squished it down quickly. If I wanted this to stay an upward curve I should keep calm and not scare them away again.

So I turned back to my cooking, keeping my movements slow so they could see what I was doing. I could feel their eyes on me at all times and every time I glanced at them they were looking at my paws. I saw them flinch and felt a spike of nervous energy when I crushed and shredded vegetables beneath my claws, but other than that there didn’t seem to be any moment where they were actually uncomfortable around me.

After I was done I added the sauce to the noodles and set the pot close to the wall so it would stay warm. I took my time cleaning the bits of tomato from between my claws…maybe I was actually stalling a bit. Because if I didn’t have anything else to do, it would mean I might have to do something with our guest. What could I even do with a small creature that was still kinda scared of me?

Still scrubbing my already clean paws, I looked around the room from the corner of my eyes. The stove was definitely a no: Creatures with skin tended to be very heat sensitive. Any of the nests wasn’t an option either, I refused to let them get as lazy as my brother! They had been doing so little already anyways.

Next, my eyes fell on the large chest next to our own nest. Yeah…that might work.

Directing a little chirp at the human first, I made my way over to the crate and lifted its lid. In this box we kept stuff that wasn’t really of use to us in everyday life, but still looked interesting nonetheless. There were books, trinkets, broken toys, and even a few parts from different machines that Sans collected near the bottom. After a few seconds I could feel a tiny form joining me, curiously peering over the edge to see its contents.

I rummaged around for a bit to find something we could have some mindless fun with. I perked up as my claws brushed against something soft and fished it out: A fake animal, a bunny. I loved these! They were so soft and fun to softly squeeze. I had accidentally broken the first one I had found when I was a child, and had been very careful with these ever since.

I turned towards my small friend, cradling the plush toy on one hand and using the other one to brush its fur, showing them that they had to play gently with it before handing it over. They seemed to hesitate for a moment before they slowly reached out, only pulling it closer after I let go completely. They were staring at it with curious eyes, turning it over a few times and feeling it’s fur beneath their stump claws. They pulled it closer to their chest, wrapping their arms around it as they looked back up at me. Ah, Sans had been holding them like that too before I woke him up. Good to know.

Soft murmurs fell from their mouth, judging by the rhythm and sequence of sounds a shy expression of gratitude. Sans understood this language better than I did, but there still was this itch at the back of my memories, a vague sense of understanding. Maybe it was because we had learned this language when we were very small, but Sans just remembered more because he was older. But I bet that with more practice I too would be able to understand this little pup just fine.

I gave a slow blink in reply, showing that I was content, before turning back to the box. The little not-monster seemed to like that bunny, so maybe they would appreciate a little book. I couldn’t read it, and Sans had a lot of trouble doing so as well, but the pictures were always nice to look at. I let out a little coo as my eyes found the spine of the ‘Fluffy Bunny’ book.

I pulled it out with vigor and placed on my friend’s lap, lifting the cover and flipping the pages to show a picture of a bunny. I pointed between the picture and the fake version in their arms a few times to show it was the same animal. They only seemed to puzzle over it briefly before the corners of their mouth pulled up slightly.

I knew what that was! The pictures in the books always did that when they were happy!

Yes, I was doing it right! I, the Great Papyrus, had figured out how to bond with this strange creature! Wait until Sans get’s back, he’ll be so proud!

I enthusiastically turned back to the box, looking for more fake animals that were also in the book. A mouse, a bear, this bird didn’t look the same as the one in the book, but that was okay….wait, like in the books?

A slow rustle of pages made me turn around. The creature behind me slowly flattened the previous page and their eyes scanned over the new one, neatly and repeatedly flickering from left to right.

Wait, are they reading?

It looked like they were, and even faster than Sans could! Did those symbols even fully register in their brain? But if they could then I could….

I perked up and dropped all the stuffed toys into the whelp’s lap, then I turned back to the chest. It should be in here somewhere. I just needed to…aha, here we go!

I pulled out an old box. The corners were ripped and there were stains from dried, filthy water, but it’s content was in a kinda okay state. Some of the letters might be unreadable or even missing, and Sans never found keeping the box useful, but now it was all I needed.

I turned to box upside down, making first the lid and then it’s content fall on the floor with a loud clatter that made the not-monster flinch. I put the carton plate and the long wooden things back into the box and started flipping through the flat, wooden squares. They were pretty tiny so sometimes I had to hold them closer to my face, but after a few short minutes I had all the symbols I needed.

I slowly placed them down in the right order so the tiny creature could see them right and waited with excitement bubbling in my bones.

“Pap-papyrus?”

I let out a tiny squeal. They read it! They can read it!

“Wait, y-you can spell?”

Well, not exactly. Sans had shown me what a few of the words from books meant, though I couldn’t remember many. I do however remember that when we first found this box he had shown me which symbols made our names in this language. Those two words were clearest in my mind.

I decided to lift my shoulders a little, something else the pictures in the book did, but when they were unsure about something or didn’t really know. It was really the best way I could think to answer them.

I stretched out my arm and lightly tapped a claw at the word, then tapping it against my own sternum.

Their eyes went wide with realization as it sunk in. “So, you have names? A-and you are Papyrus?”

I was practically bouncing in place. They were so smart, they could figure things out so quick! No wonder my brother liked them. Speaking of my brother…

“And then, who is…uh…?” They made a shy little hand movement towards the entrance of the den.

I had a feeling they would ask. With an amused little huff I plucked away one of the symbols in my name and placed it with three others I had set aside.

I don’t know if I ever speed walked home before. Maybe not, because there were some monsters staring at me.

Why was I being so hasty? Did I want to get back to the kid now that they were a bit more open and relaxed? Maybe I was worried if they got into trouble with Pap? Was I hungry? Maybe all of the above.

As I went to push open the rust hinged door to our den I stopped at the sound of a soft, timid voice. The words were soft and steady, but there was intonation and playful changes of tone, almost like a child playing pretend.

Wait, was that the kid?

I slowly pushed against the slab of wood, peeking inside. My tail gave an excited little rattle at what I saw.

The kid was sitting there with a book on their lap, reading out loud, with a pile of stuffed animals on one side and another of odds and ends a little further away.

In one hand they held a plush bunny that they were gently bouncing up and down, as if it was hopping around. Opposite of them was Papyrus, sitting on his haunches with a teddy bear in hand and missing one of his boots. Said boot was placed neatly in between them and Papyrus was holding the bear up behind it, as if he was hiding it.

“‘But what is that? There, behind the tree! Is it a furry, brown paw I see?’ Fluffy bunny smiled and silently tiptoed over, slowly coming closer and closer.” The kid read out loud.

They slowly started to wobble the toy forward as they stage whispered in a sing song voice: “Tippy-toe-tippy-toe-tippy-toe-” Papyrus sat there slowly tensing up and his tail twitching in anticipation.

Oh my gosh, this is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen in my life!

The kid made the bunny quickly peek behind the ‘tree’ to see the bear.

“‘Peekaboo, I found you!’”

Papyrus let out an excited little squeal as he made the bear come out. The kid lowered their voice, making it deeper to fit the bear as Papyrus warbled along, acting as if he was saying Brun’s lines.

“‘You found me!’ Brun Bear cried out with a little cheer. ‘Let’s go to the fields and find Doris Dee-’“

Papyrus’ head snapped up as he finally noticed my presence, making the kid stop their narration to see why he had stopped.

I trilled at both of them in greeting, Pap trilled back as he lifted the bear and waved its fluffy paw at me. I was completely unprepared for how the kid greeted me though.

“Sans!”

I was startled by the sound of my spoken name. It was nothing more than a tiny little chirp but more than enough to make my soul leap up in my chest and skip. Wh-whu? How?

I looked up at Papyrus. He was the only one besides the kid that was here this whole time. How did he-?

Paps seemed to catch the confusion on my face as he reached over to the jumble pile, lifting up the top of a box. It had some water damage and the print had smudged a bit, but the word ‘sc-scr…ab-ble(?)’ could still be read.

Oh…my…gosh…Pap, you’re a genius!

My chest puffed up with pride over my little bro’s resourcefulness I walked over to see the tiny letters still spread out on the flood. It would be hard to make a good conversations since there were to few letters en some of them were missing from the box entirely (like the ‘G’, ‘E’, ‘T’ and ‘H’es) but I could make out ‘P py us’ with the ‘A’ and ‘R’ missing to spell out my name and ‘Bro  r’.

I purred as I ducked down to bump my forehead and crest to my brother’s, explicitly showing how proud I was. By the time I pulled back he was quite literally glowing with pride, soft orange light becoming visible underneath the bone surface of his face.

He jumped back on his feet with an energetic crow, flashed his teeth to the kid, and started marching to the stove…to heat up his pasta apparently. Looks like he had a treat planned for us. I turned to the kid to give them an apologetic look. They just looked a little confused.

My eyes drifted down towards the book the kid was still holding. Ah, ‘Peekaboo with Fluffy Bunny’, that was a classic. I might not like humans a lot, but I couldn’t deny they had some pretty decent creative skills. And everything in the book looked so cute too, Paps loved the anthropomorphic, talking animals.

…anthropomorphic…

I gently picked the book from the child’s lap and started thumbing through the pages. Of course, humans wouldn’t depict animals acting like animals. They would act like humans to make it easier for the kids.

I started studying the pages, making sure to absorb as much of the gestures and facial expressions as I could. Ah look, there is that wave thingy that…Paps just did with his bear.

Okay, it’s official. I might be the studied one in this house, but Papyrus was way smarter and more resourceful!

Guess I just got ‘schooled’. Heh.

Pasta wasn’t that bad. It’s wasn’t ‘good’, but it was definitely edible. And despite the slimy texture the kid seemed content enough eating it too. So now we were all getting ready for bed, feeling all satisfied and drowsy.

Pap of course had to walk like 20 circles before his spot was to his liking, and the kid had already shifted around a few times before curling up under their covers. But now everything was peace and quiet.

My mind had already started to drift off into sleep when Pap suddenly sat up, waking me up enough to hear a soft pitter patter and a dragging sound. I lifted my head as the sound stopped right next to our nest.

The kid was standing there, blanket over their shoulders, ‘nest’ dragged behind them and a hesitant look on their face.

“C-can I…sleep here tonight?”

Completely astonished by their words I shuffled around a bit, making some room in the middle of the nest. Papyrus quickly followed my lead with an excited chirp, giving them some space to lie down between the two of us.

The human child dragged their ‘nest’ over and with a little struggle pushed it into the little space we made. They crawled on top of it with nervous, fluttering hands and pulled their blanket on top of them. Hey stayed in a sitting position though.

I cooed softly, trying to coax the kid to tell what was wrong. They bit their lip for about a minute before saying something.

“P-please. Don’t d-do anything while I’m asleep?” The way they said it sounded like a question. As if they weren’t sure if it was a silly thing to ask, or as if they didn’t know if there was something to worry about.

I just smiled and lay my head down, staying behind an invisible barrier that was the edge of their ‘nest’. Papyrus did the same with a little purr. I could understand if they needed privacy and security, some major barriers had been broken down today and I could imagine the kid being tired after so much fear and nervousness in one day.

After a smile and some hesitation they swiftly moved forward to surprise me with a quick ‘hugs’ around my face, then turned over to do the same to Paps. Without another word they pulled the blankets up over them and curled away into the stuffed fabric.

Pap and I shared a little look of amazement over their tiny form, and I could feel and see our faces slightly glow with magic, before we finally settled down as well.

“Oh.” I heard before I could drift off again. The human turned towards me with a little rustle, their face dusted pink.

“I almost f-forgot to t-tell you. I-I’m Frisk. My name is Frisk.”

[ruffsficstuffplace]

The Keeper of the Grove (Part 26)

Weiss had a dream.

The sun was shining; Ruby's room was messier, largely because Weiss' belongings had joined the piles of stuff scattered all around; and her mother was gently shaking her awake.

She was older—much older; even more wrinkles on her face, her platinum blonde hair looking more grey than white, but she looked happy. “Time to get up, my littler snowbunny!” she hummed. “There aren't any servants to do everything for you out here, you know!”

Weiss got up, playfully glared at her, and climbed out of her hammock, moving through her dream in that foggy way where details were sparse, time was flexible, and she suddenly found herself seated at the kitchen table.

It was crowded, every single chair taken by Ruby, Qrow, Blake, Winter, and others she didn't recognize, Fae and human. Penny was standing to the side, busy feeding Zwei using a “backpack” that looked like a giant toaster complete with spring mechanism to fire the bread straight into both his waiting jaws.

Everyone was happy to see her, greeting her warmly like she was an old friend or a member of the family. Ruby pushed a plate of milk and cookies to her—one that had already been set out and just waiting for her.

She smiled, thanked her, and reached out for one of them.

“Weiss, what in the world are you doing?” her father asked.

Everything changed.

She was back in the dining hall of Manor Schnee, seated one chair away from her father, Winter and her mother's seats empty, as they had been for years. At his perennial place at the head of the table, her father looked at her disdainfully as he cut into the meat of his dinner.

Roast beef. Not venison or the head of anything, thankfully.

Weiss looked down. No more cookies and milk. A familiar set of priceless china that could only be handled by the servants or one of the drones, worst comes to worst. Food sourced from all over Avalon, kept at their absolute freshest by magitechnology, prepared by the skillful hands of a chef who worked with anyone who paid for her to always make the best, strive to innovate, and challenge herself.

The cold, cavernous hall of carved stone. The army of faceless servants and maids all around her. The ceiling looming far above her head and the monolithic walls that stood silently all around her, reminding her of just how little she was, just how trapped she was in this gilded cage.

Weiss began to cry.

“Weiss…?” Ruby whispered. “Weiss…? You alright?” She paused. “Okay! Stupid question, you're definitely not alright...”

Weiss blinked, her eyes blurry and stinging from tears, the Eluna plushie being strangled in her arms. “Ruby…?” she blubbered as she turned in her hammock and looked up at her.

The room was dark, but her eyes glowed; not the infamous blood red of her mask, but a calming silver.

“Sorry,” she whispered, “I just came back from night shift, and it looked like you were having a really bad dream, so...”

Ruby trailed off, the ensuing silence filled with Weiss sniffling and hiccuping.

“… What is it you do when you're feeling sad?”

Weiss took a deep, calming breath. “Winter used to sleep with me in her bed,” she muttered. “Sometimes we'd have her plushies out as 'guards.''”

“Want to do that?” Ruby asked. “Definitely won't be able to do it in your hammock, since it's only really just made for one—or two who don't mind sleeping REALLY close to each other.”

Weiss debated it for a moment. “Help me out, please?” she mumbled.

Ruby did.

Weiss stomach started stirring all over again, both residents upset at her doing absolutely anything except lie down on her side, but they settled down after she got comfortable in Ruby's little nest of pillows and blankets—or was it a den, since she was a reindeer Fae?

She decided it wasn't more important than sleep and curled up on her side, buried her face in one of Ruby's pillows. Everything smelled of her—earth, mud, numerous traces of wild animals and Zwei especially, chocolate chip cookies—but they were warm, and luxuriously soft.

“Anything else?” Ruby asked as she laid down next to her.

Weiss paused for a moment, before she muttered, “She used to hold me until I fell asleep...”

“Like this…?” Ruby asked as she wrapped her arms around Weiss' chest.

She had a very strong, firm grip. Stronger than she would expect someone of her size to be. But then again, she wasn't human, and she was capable of wiping the floor with four soldiers twice her size and several times her weight.

“… Y-Yeah, like that...” she murmured after a long pause—longer than it should have been.

She felt something gently poke into the back of her head.

“Woops! Sorry, about that,” Ruby whispered, shifting about behind her.

Now her head was level with hers, her warm breath on the back of Weiss' neck, her horns angled outwards and above their heads.

“Better?”

Weiss felt her cheeks begin to heat up as she gently tilted her head back. No poking, no rubbing up against anything hard and smooth, just her hair rubbing up against Ruby's face.

She sniffed a few times and let out a low, pleased hum.

Weiss quickly tilted her head back. “What was that all about…?”

“Your hair smells really nice,” Ruby replied.

Weiss face started to feel like it was burning. “… Oh.”

Ruby yawned and nuzzled up to her again. “Goodnight again, Weiss...” she muttered.

Weiss gently curled up against her. She felt different from Winter. Height, species, and scent aside, Ruby was a lot harder, her body's muscles tensing and relaxing even in her sleep, so densely packed and tightly woven together she could feel them moving.

She didn't mind, though.

It wasn't bad...

… Just… different.

“Goodnight, Ruby,” Weiss whispered back.

She got a quiet snore in response.

Weiss smiled, and closed her eyes, drifting back to sleep.

Qrow rapped his knuckles twice on the door, before he threw it open and strode on in. “Alright, Princess! It's been more than eight hours, and you've got plenty of shit to do today, that's enou--”

Ruby shot up in an instant, her ears perked and alert, turning every which way for signs of danger.

Weiss groaned and slowly picked her head up from Ruby's nest. (Or den—whatever.) She cringed and squinted as the bright morning sun hit her eyes. “Ugh...” she muttered, “what time is it…?”

“Time for me to get the fuck out of here!” Qrow said as he hastily backpedaled right back out.

Thunk. The door to Ruby's bedroom was closed once more.

“What was that all about…?” Weiss asked, idly rubbing at the side of her face she'd been sleeping on. She stopped. “Ruby… why is my face all sticky…?”

“Oh! That's probably just my drool; don't worry, it washes right off!”

Weiss slowly turned to her.

“Did I mention I drool when I sleep...?” Ruby asked.

Weiss stared.

“I... probably should have mentioned I drool in my sleep...”

Weiss' face slowly fell in ever growing horror. “Where was the bathroom again…?” she whispered.

“Through the kitchen,” Ruby replied sheepishly

Weiss had rarely ever moved so fast as she did that morning, slowing down only to safely nestle the Eluna plushie into her hammock before she rushed out the door, leaving it swinging in her wake.

Qrow and Penny were cooking the boar they hauled in last night, the flames of the oven roaring as they both tended to boiling pots filled with bones and meat being turned into stocks or stew, several hunks being roasted over an open flame, strips of meat being smoked above those, and three separate pans frying and sizzling all at once—not to mention guarded them all from Zwei, who had one head sticking in through a window from outside, and the other chewing on a large amount of bones wrapped inside a raw hide. Blake was sitting at the table, using her comm-crystal to read a magical copy of a book in Nivian and its unofficial Actaeon translation side-by-side, a language learning guide running below it.

All four of them looked up and watched Weiss zoom past them and straight into the bathroom, where she proceeded to lock herself in. The faint sound of constantly running water and vigorous scrubbing began to come from inside.

Ruby waltzed in soon after. <Morning everyone!> she said as she grabbed a plate and headed over to the giant cookie jar.

Zwei barked, Blake nodded, Penny waved with her tail before she lifted the lid of a pot with it, and Qrow saluted with the hand holding his morning beer before he took a sip.

<Is Weiss okay?> Ruby asked as she climbed up the ladder. <She seemed in a real rush just now,> she continued as she lifted the lid and started putting cookies on her plate.

<You tell me!> Qrow replied as he flipped over several cuts of frying meat. <You were the one that was with her most of the night, I just walked in on the both of you.>

Ruby looked at him and blinked. <Wait, what…?>

<Qrow was using a Nivian slang term in Actaeon: 'Walking in on (someone)',> Penny explained. <It refers to unintentionally being witness to and/or interrupting an intimate moment you are not involved in, usually that of sexual intercourse.>

Blake cringed, her ears pulling back, Ruby dropped her plate into the jar.

<Wait, what?!> Ruby cried, her face burning red. <We just slept together!>

<I noticed,> Qrow said before he took another sip of his beer.

Ruby balked. <No, just sleeping sleeping! She was--!>

Everyone stopped as Weiss stepped out, repeatedly pressing a towel to her face. “You're running low on soap...” she muttered as she slowly walked to a free chair beside the wall, sat down at the table, and proceeded to hang her head, the hand holding her towel hiding her face.

Everyone, including Zwei, turned to look at her, then at Ruby.

She shot them all disgusted looks, turning around to fish her plate and her cookies out of the jar, and also hide her reddened face.

Penny turned to Weiss. “Noted! I'll refill it before we leave for our trip to the hot springs, then the Trader's Guild.”

Weiss nodded. “So that's where I get a job?”

“All the shitty ones, at least,” Qrow replied as he took two of the pans off the stove, started plating freshly cooked meat. “Don't worry, though: every one goes through the Job Gauntlet at least once in their life; just be glad it'll be shorter for you.”

“As you are not literate in Actaeon and require a translator for even the most basic written or spoken communication, have no skills or education of note or that which would prove useful to Fae society at large, and your status as an outsider barring you from any careers of a religious nature, your choices are greatly limited to that of manual labour, apprenticeships with some types of Makers, or basic training with the Watchers,” Penny explained as she brought the plates over to Weiss and Blake. “Though, the third also requires that you pass a test to ensure that you are at least capable of independently surviving outside of the walls for a reasonable length of time.”

“It doesn't do anyone any favours if the wildlife gets a taste for humanoid beings as an 'every other day' food,” Qrow muttered. “Except Soul Eaters, but those are Soul Eaters.”

Weiss put down her towel. “What's a Soul Eater…?”

“A giant, walking collection of claws, teeth, and hate you pray you'll never meet,” Qrow replied. “For now, let's just say they're one of the biggest reasons we're so strict on ethics here in the Valley...”

Weiss decided to not to ask any further. She picked up what looked like strips of bacon with her hands—Fae weren't big on utensils, outside of cooking—and took a bite out of it. Her eyes widened as all the fat inside out burst onto her tongue, greasy as all get-out and even more flavourful.

“Wow! These are REALLY good!” Weiss said as she chewed, before she stopped and mopped up the grease dribbling down her lips with her towel.

“Enjoy it while it lasts!” Qrow said as he lowered the fires, set the pots to a simmer, the roasts to a slower rotation, and the jerky to dry more slowly. “Me, Blake, and Zwei here NEED meat to survive, so no griping when we get the lion's share,” he said as he held up a spit that held several kilos worth of freshly cooked pork to Zwei.

Zwei ate it in one bite, metal and all, before he spat out the now empty and slobber-coated metal straight into the sink with no ill-effects.

Weiss chuckled. “Believe me, there's nothing more I want than to stop being a load on all of you.”

<Good,> Blake said, smiling at her before she attacked her food like an actual animal, holding it up with her hands, tearing hunks of meat out with her teeth, and purring happily as she chewed.

They finished up breakfast, and everyone but Qrow and Zwei headed back to the Tube station to head to the hot springs, carrying changes of clothes, some of Weiss' care package, and Penny's water filtration “backpack” between them. The sun was shining, the birds and the frogs were singing, the temperature in the swamp was comfortably warm, and the rest of the Bastion not too hot so long as you didn't stay outside of the shade for more than an hour.

It was a beautiful start to Weiss' day, before it all went downhill once more.

[livingdarwinaward]

Saving a princess, making a Ruler

TW: VIOLENCE

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

The door slammed open, and Maia looked up from the charm she was making as the man stormed in.

“Witch, I need a protection charm,”  The man said, twitchy and looking around the shop, eyes flitting over the crystals, potions, charms, jewelry, and the plants in the shop-- both the herb garden by the window and the potted ivy in the corner as it waved innocently in the too-light breeze.

Maia smiled, biting back a cutting comment about the fact that she had a name, and rounded the counter the shelves along the wall.  “What do you need to protect against?” She asked.  “People, animals, magic? Or something else that’s more specific?”

“Animals,” the man said, still looking around the shop as if something was going to jump out and bite him.  Just as Maia was about to continue questioning the man, Jet, the crow she’d saved from the freezing winter years ago, flew through the window and lit on her shoulder.  The man jumped back, terrified.  

Maia just smiled, now trying not to laugh.  “My familiar won’t hurt you, sir,” she said with a glance at the ivy in it’s cracked pot, still waving innocently.  “Now,” she said, stroking Jet’s head absently, “Would you like the charm to protect just you, or would you like one to protect your property?”

The man stammered through answering all of Maia’s questions for him, and eventually Maia was able to sell him a charm.  When the man left, Maia leaned against the shop counter and sighed.  “Talia, I know you have something to say,” she said, apparently to the air.  A cracking sound came from behind her, and Maia turned to see the small ivy shatter the pot and reassemble herself and the pot into a small, dragonish form.  

“I wish those humans,” Talia spat the last word, “would treat you with more respect.  You do your best to help their ungrateful hides and they treat you like an ant under their boots.  And you let them!”  She said, leafy tail lashing back and forth.  “Why do you let them treat you like dirt?”

Maia sighed.  “You know why, ‘Tal.  I’d probably get arrested or killed for standing up to them, and even if I didn’t, people would get suspicious of me.  Then the others may have to go.”  She looked at the clock in the corner.  “Aright, I’m gonna close up and go into the valley.”

Closing the shop wasn’t a complicated affair, all Maia really had to do was lock the door and clean while Talia scouted ahead through the pass behind the small building.  After that was taken care of, Maia went into the back room and up the staircase to her house, which was carved into the side of the cliff, but with every sign of it being there carefully concealed to outside eyes.  Once in her bedroom, Maia changed out of her shop clothes into sturdier and more practical ones for the journey through the mountain pass and valley that her house and shop guarded.  Once dressed, Maia went back downstairs and out the back door, holding a sack to keep what she gathered and traded on her trip through the valley, where she would check on all of the people she sheltered-- all manner of magical beings who’d fled the humans of the kingdom-- and gather or trade for most of the supplies she would need for her shop.

Maia and Talia were walking back through the pass when Jet flew up to them, croaking “Friend, friend, friend at the door!”

Maia looked at Talia and Jet, then started to hurry, hitching her bag of supplies farther up on her shoulder.  Jet flew higher, circling around Maia and Talia’ heads as they walked.  “Jet,” called Maia, “Go tell Ales that we’re on our way and that the door’s open!”

“You left the door unlocked?” Talia asked.  “That’s a bad idea.”

“The door’s not unlocked,” Maia said, scrambling over a large pile of debris from a recent rockslide.  Talia was simply bounding over the pile, giving Maia a confused look.  “I meant she’s welcome inside, I’m not fool enough to leave the door unlocked.”

“What happened to what you said the last time Alessia picked the lock?”

“What I meant then was that I didn’t want her to pick the lock to the house.  I’d rather her not be outside, anyone who came by would give her hell and she’d fight back.  Then we’d all be in trouble.”  Maia looked up to see Talia rolling her eyes.  

Once back in the shop, Maia stared down Alessia as the young mage smirked from her perch on the shop counter.  “I didn’t go into your house this time, Maia, aren’t you happy?”

“I just prefer for people to not be in my home.  It’s private,” Maia said, opening the bag to organize what she’d brought back.

“You mean it’s a damn mess,”  Alessia shot back, reaching to help Maia pull a large, tangled root out of the bag, then watching as Maia swished her fingers toward the carving block in the corner, where the root floated and rested.

Maia looked up and blushed at the Alessia’s raised eyebrow.  “I cleaned it up by now, that was an unusual occasion,” she muttered, then busied herself with the rest of the contents of the bag.  As all of the things Maia had brought back from the valley drifted out of the bag and went to their designated spots-- herbs were hung and dried or mashed for their juices, barks ground up, stones and crystals on shelves in the back, Alessia studied Maia.

“You’re worried,” she said.  Maia nodded.  “You saw my plans in that plate of yours?”

“For someone who begged anyone who knew magic to teach you and then learned more on the sly, you seem quite disrespectful of the practice.  Yes, I’m worried.  This country--” Maia gestured around them “-- barely accepts me--”

“It really doesn’t,” Talia muttered.  Maia ignored her.

“And that’s only because I can’t help being magic but am willing to use it to help them.  And I’m lucky for that!  So many people are chased away or killed because they’re either not human and magic or not willing to help.  But you, Alessia, being chased away if they knew you learned magic would be a best case scenario even if you were just walking down the street and not bothering anyone.  But this plan of yours, which would be insane even if you didn’t know magic-- that’ll get you killed.  Or worse,” Maia said, leaning forward with her hands on the counter.  Talia stalked over to stand by Maia’s shoulder as they both stared Alessia down.

“What? Kicked out of a country that hates me and my values as much as I hate it?  How is that worse?”

“You could start a war, Ales.  I wasn’t talking about this country’s dumb idea of what is worse than death-- even so, you’d just be killed.  Being born with magic is one thing-- but they see you as an abomination.  You’d be killed.”  Maia took a deep breath, deflating as she let it out.  “I don’t want that to happen, Ales.”  Maia picked up the cleaning cloth and scrubbed the already clean counter vigorously.  

Talia reached out from where she was sitting in her pot, still in her dragon form, and wrapped a vine around Maia’s arm to stop her.  “Maia,” she said, “Alessia’s doing something very dangerous, yes, but she tends to have plans-- she doesn’t just charge in.”

Maia loosened the grip she had on the cloth and looked up at Alessia.  “You had better have a very good reason and plan to be doing something like this.”

Alessia smiled, a strange, tense look so different from her usual cocky smirk.  “Trust me, I don’t like doing something so dangerous either.  Especially because--" she shook her head.  "But I have a reason.  And a plan, which you've, what?"  She asked, seeing Maia's face.

"Especially because what? And don't evade, I can tell it's bad."

Talia’s head shot up and she leapt out of her pot, which shattered again and reformed into armored plates over her body.  Alessia looked down at her hands.

“The Seer has started to announce the new Knight, Princess, and Dragon.”  She looked back up but slumped over the counter.  “This is going to start a war.  I’m sorry-- but the Knight’s announcement was made before we got the call.”

“What call?  Who’s the Knight?”  Maia and Talia were now just staring at Alessia as she looked up, cocky smirk back on her face like a mask-- an unconvincing one that still let her fear shine through.

“I’m the Knight.  They haven’t announced the Princess or Dragon yet.”

“And the call?”

“The Princess of Shelton--” Alessia jerked her head toward the door “--sent out a message for help, saying she needed to get out of Shelton.  She’s apparently a witch, and being a witch in you royal family means she’ll be killed.”

“To keep the line ‘pure,’”  Maia finished.  “So what’s your plan here-- to get into the tournament, not just win the tournament and get the princess.  I hope you have one.”

Alessia leaned back, looking mostly relaxed now.  “The princess sent her message through the court wizard--”

“They have a court wizard?”  Maia yelled.  “The fucking hypocrites!”

“I know, I know, but that’s not the focus here.  She sent her message through him and we got him to enter my name on the list of competitors for the princess’s hand.  And because I’ve been named the Knight, I’ve become one of the official Heirs to the throne, so my name was put near the top of the lists,”  Alessia said.

“I’m assuming you’re operating on the assumption that the people in charge won’t notice that you’re from Nema? Or that they if they do, they won’t know how the throne is actually passed on?”  Maia paused.  “And I hope you’ll cover those tattoos, Ales.”

Alessia looked down at her arms, uncovered by sleeves as they typically were.  “I don’t have a death wish, Maia.”

“I know.  Now come on, I’m not letting you leave without sleep and food.  Graces know it may be the last decent night of sleep if you’re to cause a war soon.”  Maia turned toward the door to her house.  Alessia got up to follow her, the shadows back in her eyes, and Maia kicked herself for it.

That night, Maia dreamed.

Three thrones were in a shadowy room.  The shadows danced, not as if from an unseen flame, but with purpose.  They would detach and seem to act out scenes that seemed vaguely familiar, then melt back with the background as more took their place.

Three of the shadows seemed to be in nearly every scene, seeming to become more material with each one.  Then one scene seemed different, more real, than the rest.  All three of the material shadows were in this one, and at the end, they met and fully solidified into faceless forms of a Knight, a Princess, and a Dragon.

The three then walked toward the thrones as the rest of the shadows bowed down.  All three stood with their backs to Maia, facing the thrones, then they whirled around and sat down.  Maia caught the barest glimpse of their faces before she woke.

Maia woke just before midnight to go back into the valley to gather certain ingredients that couldn’t be gotten by day.  As they ventured back through the pass, Maia relayed her dream to Talia.  

“Do you remember any of the faces?”  Talia asked, bounding over the rocks.  “I’m going to assume that the Knight was Alessia, because that would be the most logical.”

“The Knight was Ales, but I don’t remember either of the other faces.  And I don’t really remember the scenes that shadows acted out.  Basically all I got was that there was a war shown by some of the scenes.  I don’t think I could see what they were saying even in the dream.”  Maia said.  

As they entered the valley, Maia almost spoke again, but stopped.  Shaking her head, she went to gather moondrops.  Talia whistled at some of the plants to get them to give up some of what Maia needed.  An hour passed in near silence, and Maia waited to speak until she put the stopper in the last bottle of moonlight.  “The thing that bothers me the most about that dream,” she said, placing the bottle in the bag, “Is that it didn’t feel like it was sent by the Graces.  It felt older.  Darker.”

“Evil?” Talia asked, stopping to turn back to Maia.

“No, I can’t really say what I mean.  And I’m not just talking about the shadows in the dream, either.  It didn’t feel dangerous, but it didn’t really feel like it was trying to help like the Graces usually do.”  It had felt like a warning.  A call to prepare herself, but no indication that what she’d been shown could change.  

Talia and Maia stayed silent all the way back to the house, where Maia put all of the new ingredients away and went back to bed.  She didn’t dream.

In the morning, Maia woke up to Alessia packing her things to leave.  “I hope you’re staying for breakfast,” Maia said, adding wood to the stove then cracking some eggs into a pan.  Jet flew across the room and landed on the counter, hopping closer to the stove and eyeing the eggs as they cooked.  Maia waved him away.  “Hush, you’ll get some when they’re done.”

Jet cawed.

Alessia headed out after breakfast, and Maia opened her shop a few hours later and resisted the urge to scry after her friend.  “It’ll take her at least a day to get to the tournament grounds on horseback” she muttered, just as much to stop Talia’s anxious pacing as to stop herself from worrying.  Nobody came to the shop that day, which was both unfortunate and a blessing.  On one hand, Maia would have welcomed the distraction, but she may also have been too distracted by worry to properly take care of any business to be done. 

That night, Maia settled into bed, fully expecting to get no sleep, but fell into a dream almost as soon as she hit the pillow.

The three thrones from her other dream stood before her, but the room was now visible, wals blasted down and tapestries torn, rubble littering the room.  Maia turned around to look at the full picture, and stopped in shock at the scene through the shattered doors-- a warzone, a whole city devastated.

“This is what it looked like after the last war,” said a voice behind Maia, and she whirled around, startled.  The woman behind her smiled sadly.  Her face switched between that of a dragon and a young woman.  “We were crowned amongst rubble.  The Seer promised prosperity for us, but great change around us.”  The woman looked at Maia.  “Both came in spades.”  She fell silent, and Maia watched as the Dragon of Nema stared out at the devastation.

“Why are you telling me this?”  Maia asked.

“War is coming again, centuries later.  With the war come new rulers for Nema.  The Knight has already been named.  The Princess is still only the Seer’s knowledge.  I’ve come to you to tell you who the Dragon is.”  She smiled, a mouthful of sharp teeth somehow comforting and terrifying at once.  “You’re a protector.  Even now, with your valley of magic, hidden from those who’d destroy it.  Nema would welcome all of you, you know.  Even if you weren’t our Dragon.”  The Dragon fell silent again, and together she and Maia looked out over the scene of devastation.  As there seemed to be a light rising on the horizon, the Dragon spoke one last time.  “When war comes to Nema, you must fight, must lead.  And when the war is done, you must rule.”  She looked at Maia again, and seemed to stare into her soul.  Maia stared back, unwilling to look away.  The Dragon chuckled.  “You will do well, I think.”

Maia woke up to the sun streaming through the window, and cursed the dream for keeping her from her midnight work.  She shook off the last of the dream and prepared for the day.  Maia figured that she probably wouldn’t have any customers that day when she went into town and saw almost nobody there.  “They probably all went to the tournament,” she muttered to Talia when she got back to the shop.  

“Maybe we could go into the valley and see if anyone knows anything about Nema.  You’ll probably need anything you can learn if that dream was right,” Talia said, swishing her tail and fiddling with a shard of her pot.  She stretched out her vines, then resettled into her dragon form.  Maia only had to think for a second before agreeing.

The people in the valley mostly knew very little about Nema but for the fact that the origin of all magic was somewhere in the borders of the country, and that Nema was unusually accepting of magic.  Many of them had said that if they knew enough about what Maia was asking, they would probably still be there, rather than in a hidden valley in Shelton.  Maia had to concede that point.

The next day brought the start of the tournament.  Maia pulled out her scrying dish and spent the majority of every day watching.  Every event left her wondering if Alessia would win, or even survive, and the end of every event left her letting out a sigh of relief as Alessia came out on top, or at least nearly won.

She couldn’t help but watch the princess the tournament was for, cataloguing as many of her habits as possible, trying to track any magic.  A few times she caught the princess, and occasionally the court wizard, deflecting a stray blow between the competitors.  Maia also tracked the princess and the court wizard as they tracked down and spoke to Alessia a few times in private, and cursed the fact that her scrying did not allow for her to hear what went on.

The third and final day of the tournament dawned, and Maia spent over an hour begging the Graces to watch over Alessia and the princess, allowing them to get safely to Nema when the tournament was over.  Even with that, Maia and Talia spent some time preparing for a last minute defense against anyone who might come after them.  They tied down everything in the shop and made sure nothing would break if they had to fight.  Maia also sent Jet through the pass to tell the people there to be prepared for a possible war.

After lunch, Maia began to watch the tournament as the final contest began.  Alessia faced off against a massive knight from one of the noble families from Shelton, and Maia hoped Alessia’s nimbleness would give her an advantage.  

The fight was fierce, and Maia watched it as the blows were traded, wishing she could understand what she was watching.  The two fighters seemed evenly matched, the massive knight’s size and strength balanced by Alessia’s speed and agility, but Alessia seemed to have the upper hand for a while.  When the massive knight lunged for her, Alessia danced to the side and parried, somehow knocking the sword from the man’s hand.  She placed the tip of her blade at his chest, and the man raised his hands and surrendered.

Talia broke the silence as Alessia was declared the winner of the tournament.  “I have a feeling that this is all going to fall apart.”

Maia watched as the princess came down from her box to congratulate Alessia.  “I know it will eventually, but we can hope that Ales and the princess make it to Nema before everything gets bad.”  She looked up at Jet’s caw, and realized it was time for her to prepare dinner.  She set about doing so, shooing Jet away from the meal as it cooked, admonishing him as he tried to steal food away from the stove.

Maia sat down after she finished cooking, and Talia dug into the scraps for compost, while Jet got a portion of the cooked meal.  Jet started toward the food.  Then he stopped, and Maia looked at him.  “Jet, what’s wrong?”

“War,” he croaked in a voice not his own.  “War has come.”

Maia stopped, then shot out of her seat, followed by Talia, and both sprinted to the scrying dish.  Maia felt her stomach drop as she took in the scene shown in the dish.

Apparently one of the knights at the tournament had taken offence to Alessia’s win in some way, and was now drunkenly advancing on her with a massive warhammer in his hands.  Alessia stared him down, and rolled out of the way when he swung.  The princess seemed prepared to jump in, but held back.  Alessia dodged another swing from the man in front of her, but knocked right into another massive, drunk knight, who pulled his knife and gestured wildly.  The knife caught Alessia’s sleeve, tearing it up to her elbow and revealing her tattoos.

Maia gasped, and the room in the dish fell still for a split second before exploding into chaos.  Maia saw the hammer fall again toward Alessia, who was now distracted by the knight who’d cut her sleeve, and wanted to scream a warning that would go unheard.  The princess lunged, a wild motion as she let loose a bolt of force that knocked the knight off his feet.  The chaos escalated, and Maia lost sight of Alessia and the princess as they vanished into the fray.

Maia swiped her hand through the dish, destroying the image and sending oil across the counter.  Trembling, she rushed into the back room and tucked herself into a corner, not even bothering to clean up the mess.  Talia nudged her, trying and failing to comfort Maia as the witch tried to hold back tears.  

The stones of the building rumbled with anxious power for a moment, then settled.  An ivy vine crept through the window and wrapped itself comfortingly around Maia and Talia.  Maia gave in to the tears.

Hours later, a rustling sound from outside the shop went unnoticed by Maia and Talia.  Alessia and the princess dismounted from the daemon they rode, and went to knock on the door, but it was opened by an ivy vine almost before Alessia even raised her fist.  A pause, then the princess and mage went in.

Maia startled out of her daze when a hand was laid on her shoulder.  She looked up and saw Alessia and the princess standing over her.

“Maia,” Alessia started, “We wanted to stop to tell you before we got all the way to Nema that people are probably going to start going after any kind of magic.  You may want to get out of the country for a while.”

Taking a shuddering breath, Maia stood up and yanked Alessia into a hug.  “Sorry, Ales.  I’m staying.”

“There’s going to be a war,” the princess said.  “You will be right on the battlefront if you stay--”

“I’m going to be a part of this war anyway,” Maia said, removing her face from Alessia’s shoulder.  “I’m apparently the new Dragon.  How long do I have before there’s an army on my doorstep?”

“Dragon or not, Maia, you have no experience with fighting.  Magic is one thing, but knowing how to use it in combat is another.  Do you even know any type of killing magic?”

“No, but I can think of quite a number of ways to use what I know to kill someone.  And besides--” Maia stepped away from Alessia and gestured for her and the princess to follow her out of the house.  Once outside, she narrowed her eyes at Alessia’s daemon, then cut a glance at Alessia.

Alessia shrugged.  “I never had an actual horse, only Mari here disguised as one.”  

Maia couldn’t help but snicker.  

“Oh, hush.  You know I’m terrible at naming things.  Now what were you saying?”

Maia looked at the shop building and called out, “Lara!”  Then smirked as the ivy ripped off the sides of the building, then at the building, tearing it into pieces and assembling the stones into a massive dragon.  “I have Talia’s mother on my side,” she said to the princess and Alessia as they gaped.

The princess recovered first.  She raised her hand toward Lara, and the massive stone dragon bent down to press her snout to the princess's hand.  “Hello,” she said.  “I am Avery.”

Lara closed her eyes and huffed briefly, then rumbled, “I am Lara.  Welcome.”

Before princess Avery could reply, Jet’s caw sounded from above, and Jet swept down and lit on Maia’s shoulder.  He shuffled, cawed again, then flew to rest on Lara’s head, then spoke in the same voice as before: “The rulers unite, war is here.”  He flapped his wings and called out louder, “War is here!”

Maia looked at princess Avery.  “Are you--”

“Yes.  I dreamt it last night.”  The Princess, now of Nema looked around, then back to Maia.  “You may hold your own for a time against the scouting parties that will come, but once an army is raised, you stand little chance.”

“But,” Alessia said.  “We will be back with an army of our own by then.  But now, Avery and I must be going.  Graces guide you, Maia.”

“Graces guide you both,” Maia said as she watched the Knight and the Princess mount Alessia’s daemon.  She watched as they rode away, far faster than any horse could go, then looked toward where they had come from.  “Well,” she said to no one in particular.  Then to Lara, “You have fulfilled your duty.  You may rest.”

The dragon crumbled, the ivy reassembling the stones into Maia’s shop.  “I suppose I should see what is going on in the valley now.”

Talia chuckled.  “You may very well have your own army with them.  It’ll just be a matter of them joining forces with Nema’s.”

“I know nothing of war.”

Talia looked at her.  “Then learn, Maia.”