#even regarding something that she felt was silly yet was weighing her down

[ptieuca]

#the dark piercing gaze will have her fessing up every single time

[smoochkooks]

—chapter one: the beginning of an end

this is a part of my an ode to a broken heart drabble series.

pairing: jeon jungkook/reader

genre: unrequited love, best friends to (?), heavy angst, future smut

word count: 1.4k words

summary: loving jeon jungkook is, above all, the beginning of an end.

previous || next

You’re positive your favourite sound in the whole world is the rhythmic, repetitive sound of your fingers tapping on the keyboard.

Everyone has a different approach when it comes to coping with stress and anxiety. Some people drink away their unwanted emotions, some drown themselves in work, some watch yet another, mediocre Netflix show. But your solution, your little panacea has always been writing.

You’re not the best when it comes to expressing your true feelings. You can struggle with saying ‘I love you’ to your mother and then write a long, affectionate letter for her birthday that makes her eyes turn glossy. You may stutter and tumble on your own words while trying to order coffee and then complete academic essays with ease.  

Whenever you feel like you’re overwhelmed, boiled up with mixed emotions, you do exactly what your school counselor told you many years ago: you let it out. She never mentioned any specifics, simply encouraging you to find your own way. And that’s exactly what you did – you picked it up yourself. First, it was writing a diary. No less than two weeks into it, you got bored. Turns out describing in detail every single mundane day of your life was never your forté. You threw away your old notebook, bought a new one and decided to write there whenever you felt like you really wanted to, not out of obligation.  

And you continue to do so, these days you opt for a use of modern technology often. You open your laptop and pour your feelings onto a digital sheet of paper. It’s cathartic, in a way. Getting rid of what you feel like is weighing you down.  

Jungkook however, your dearest best friend, has always been on the other side of the spectrum. Loud, obnoxious, a life and soul of the party who happened to miraculously befriend the most quiet introvert in class. Sometimes you still wonder how your friendship has managed to survive almost twenty years. You’re two polar opposites. Fire and water. Storm and chilly breeze. A confession screamed in the middle of the night and handwritten love letter.  

You’re a dichotomy. Made of the same atoms, pulling in and pulling away. And if the phrase ‘opposites attract’ held any significance, maybe you would’ve ended up together. But in your case, it’s yet another platitude. Something that seems to work out only in books and movies. Because, if that was true, he would never fell in love with a female version of him, just graced with a sprinkle of pure sweetenes Jungkook sometimes lacks.

Soojin is everything you will never be. Polite, outgoing, sociable and so likeable you hate yourself for despising her. Truthfully, there’s nothing bad you could say about her. No wonder he’s fallen head over heels for her, not you.

What’s there to love about you, if you willing chose to pin for a boy that’s so out of your league? It’s actually hilarious to even dream about him returning your feelings.

You stare at the screen with half-lidded eyes. The clock reads quarter past midnight, letters start to blur into nothingness. Yet another chapter of your miserable life is completed as you save the document and slam your laptop shut. You don’t bother to shower or take off your clothes. Sleepiness hits you right when you close your eyes.  

You dream of wedding halls and never spoken love confessions.

You read once on Twitter that being an adult means checking your e-mail as a part of your morning social media routine and since then, you haven’t quite related to anything more in your life.  

At the very top of your inbox there’s yet another e-mail from your Creative Writing proffesor, Kim Namjoon. He’s a very stubborn man, you decide, as you scroll through the contents of his message. He still wants you to consider what he told you a few days ago after class, it seems.  

“Miss ___? Can I talk to you for a second?” 

“Sure.” you replied and awkwardly walked up to his podium.  

You might have been madly (and miserablely) in love with your best friend, but Kim Namjoon has never failed to make you feel like a silly teenager with a crush on her older teacher. To say Kim Namjoon was intimidating was an misunderstanding. His presence was thoroughly electrifying. You remembered a very disappointed sigh the girl sitting next you let out when she noticed a ring on his right hand. You couldn’t judge her. His wife had scored probably the finest man on this damn planet.  

“I read your latest assignment and I must say, your novelette was outstanding as always. Dare I say the best among others,” Namjoon said. You bowed your head in acknowledgement, praying he wouldn’t notice your rose-colored cheeks. “Regarding that, I actually have a proposition for you.”  

At that, your eyes widened. “What kind of proposition, sir?” you asked.  

He picked up a sheet of paper from his desk and handed it to you. It was a flyer, you realised, and read it through quickly. VARIETÉ Publishing was organising an annual contest for young poets, which you had heard about before. Your English Literature proffesor mentioned it during her lecture a week ago. However, poetry had never been your strong suit. As much as you enjoyed reading it, you weren’t really fond of creating your own poems. So why did Kim Namjoon decide to tell you about this all of a sudden?

“I know what you might be thinking right now, but I’m not actually encouraging you to take part in this competition,” As he smiled, two dimples appeared on each side of his mouth. “Do you know anything about VARIETÉ Publishing?”  

Slightly confused, you gave him a nod. “It’s one if the biggest publishing companies in the country.” 

“That’s very much true,” Namjoon agreed. “VARIETÉ's vice-chairman, Lee Jongi, is actually my old friend. We used to study together here, at this university. When I chose a teaching career, he got a job in a foreign publishing company, climbed up the ladder until the very top and now he’s vice-chairman and I’m a simple college professor,” He chuckled. You were too stunned to form a coherent response let alone laugh along with him. Lee Jongi and Kim Namjoon being buddies? It was a small world, after all. “Jongi has always been very fond of young, aspiring writers. When I discover a student with huge potential, I send him their works. If he finds them interesting enough, he might even take a risk and propose a publishing deal. This doesn’t happen quite often, but I want you to know that you have a pretty big chance to impress him.”

You stared at him, wide-eyed because holy fucking shit, did he just say he can help you publish your first book?  

“I don’t know what to say, sir. I’m shocked.” you responded truthfully. You had heard people complimenting your skills before but this was extraordinary. “Let me just process all of this: you know personally VARIETÉ'S vice-chairman and you want to show him my works?” Even said out loud, it still sounded surreal to you.  

“Correct. But of course, I won’t do anything without your consent.” Namjoon said. “That novelette you sent me recently was amazing. I’d love to show it to Lee Jongi one day.”

The task was to incorporate a hidden, symbolic message into a story. You decided to use your favorite flowers, magnolias, and its meaning. They represent eternity, because once they bloom they will continue to bloom for a long time. In your story, a girl gave her best friend magnolia's seeds, wishing her love for him to be everlasting. A day later, she received a pack of seeds from the boy as well. She happily planted them in her garden and when they bloomed, she discovered they were yellow tulips. A symbol of love that will never be reciprocated.

“You make people feel things with your words, ___, and that’s a very rare gift,” You heard Namjoon add. “Promise me you’ll consider my proposition.”  

There was thousand thoughts per hour running in your head, but you gave him a curt nod. “I’ll think about it.”  

As you’re staring now at the screen, fingers hovering over the keyboard, you think about the girl whose only dream was to be loved by her best friend. Maybe it’s finally time for you to move on. Bury the past and plant a seed of new life. Because, loving Jeon Jungkook is, above all, the beginning of an end.

With shaky hands, you start writing a response to your proffesor.

[cozy-the-overlord]

Miles To Go Before I Sleep

Part 3 of Cozy’s Fluff-To-Angst Fun and Games

@fablesrose said:

Alright, break my heart.

A lover softly combing their fingers through your hair as your head lays in their lap, quietly drifting to sleep with a hum.

Summary: She could accept this fate, did accept this fate, if it meant that he would escape safe and sound. But Loki could never let her fall alone.

Word Count: 1,663

Pairing: Loki x Sigyn

A/N: So this is based on a dream I had a while ago ... it’s weird. I know it might not make any sense, but my dreams never make any sense lol, so I was kind of trying to channel that a bit. The title is from Robert Frost’s “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening”-- I debated about that for a while, because I know this story doesn’t really fit that poem thematically (like ... at all), but the atmosphere it creates is sort of what I was going for? Kind of? Idk this story is a trash fire. 

Also please let me know what you think of the ending! I’m genuinely curious to see how people interpret it ...

Thanks for reading!

Warnings: Drowning? (but no death)

Tags:  @lucywrites02 @silver-lupines @whatafuckingdumbass @the-emo-asgardian @imnotrevealingmyname @electroma89 @lokislittlesigyn @moumouton4 @theredrenard @justdontmindmetm​

If you want to be tagged, feel free to send an ask/message :)

Read it on Ao3!

At first, she thought she was dead. That moment when she first hit the water, the icy crack that shattered her vision as millions of tiny needles pierced every sliver of skin and cut straight to her bones—surely, she must be dead. No body could survive such raw cold.

But she wasn’t. She was alive for now, alive enough to scream as freezing water rushed down her throat, up her nostrils, through her ears, ripping her apart from the inside until there was nothing left but ice.

Can’t breathe—

The surface sparkled above her with a mocking glow. She knew how to swim, but when she tried to kick her legs only dangled in the water, useless chunks of lead pulling her deeper and deeper with each failed flail. Her arms weren’t working properly. Her fingers had turned to icicles.

No, she wasn’t dead, but she was dying.

The thought electrified her, and she tried another half-hearted thrash for the surface even as her chest swelled with water. She didn’t want to die. Not like this. Somewhere, deep down, she was ashamed of her fear. She hadn’t fought the drop. She had given herself up to death’s eternal slumber. Why was she panicking now?

But this was different. She had made peace with the fall, yes, but the water did not hold the same mercy. Please. She gasped for the surface, not even sure who she was pleading with.

Please, not like this.

She wasn’t expecting an answer.

And yet one came.

In one moment, she was spiraling down into the blackness, in another, the light was flying towards her in a halo of bubbles, a familiar arm tight and firm around her waist.

Somehow, the air she heaved into her lungs was even colder than the water below, the frigid wind that whipped across her cheeks threatening to take her skin with it. She coughed out a waterfall, the panic that had been frozen in her throat finally freed from its floodgates as she sobbed and shook against his chest.

His.

Sigyn gagged on the realization.

“You—you—” But her voice only burned, too raw for speech. When she attempted to twist around to see his face, he only held her more tightly against him as he pulled her to the embankment. She pulled at his collar with numb fingers.

“You were supposed to run,” she choked. “Loki, you were supposed to run.”

Loki said nothing. He scooped her up like she weighed no more than a feather, his ruby eyes staring off at something only he could see as they trudged through the snow. She realized suddenly that she was shivering, teeth chattering like a pair of castanets, and she gulped as she tried in vain to hold her frostbitten hands still. Loki’s grip around her tightened.

“We need to get you warm,” he said. “You’ll freeze like this.”

What he needed to do was drop her and get as far away from her as possible, but Sigyn’s voice wasn’t working properly. Really, very little was working properly. Her vision was going fuzzy in the corners, the steady sound of his wet boots crunching against the ice was starting to fade into an indistinguishable buzz.

She only noticed they had stopped when the fire crackled to life—a vibrant, vigorous warmth that washed all over her, and she found herself bathing in the glow of dancing flames despite her better judgment.

“Loki!” she whispered weakly, fighting to cling to her last dregs of reason. “The smoke— he’ll find you—”

Loki lay behind her, holding her to his chest with a touch so gentle she barely felt it. His fingertips danced across her temples, stroking clumps of wet hair from her face as they went.

“You’re so beautiful.” His voice was soft and safe, a warm blanket wrapping her up and sheltering her from the world.

She inhaled. Her chest felt numb. “What’s going to happen?” She hated that she sounded so small, like a frightened child cowering at a storm. But surely what they were facing was a storm of its own? Sigyn knew very well who it was pursuing them. She knew he would stop at nothing to retrieve what he wanted.

It could only be a matter of time …

But Loki was unconcerned. “Don’t worry, darling,” he soothed. “Don’t worry. It’s all going to turn out right.”

“The tesseract—”

He hushed her gently. “Everything’s going to be just fine.” He hummed as he combed through her hair, a tune that Sigyn almost recognized, something innocent and nostalgic. It was something from a lifetime far away, dancing on the edge of her memory. She found her eyelids slipping closed, even as she fought to remain awake.

Can’t sleep now. Can’t leave him …

“It’s all right, my love,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. “You can go. I promise I’ll be all right.”

And so, she gave into his words, and the world faded to black.

…

When they found him, the fire had gone out. Loki was hunched alone in the snow, watching little flecks of ice crystalize on his blue skin. He didn’t bother to stand as they surrounded his makeshift camp. Why should he? He was weary, and besides— it didn’t matter now.

The Mad-Titan loomed over him, his golden armor sparkling with frost as he regarded Loki with a kind of patronizing amusement.

“And so the Jotun blesses us with his true colors.”

Loki fixed him with a heavy-lidded stare, breath whistling through his lips in a silver vapor. He was too exhausted for words. Besides, what was there to say? Everyone here knew how this was going to end.

At least, they thought they did.

“I’m surprised at your choice,” Thanos grinned. It was a spider’s smile, one that said he wasn’t surprised at all. Loki pressed his nails into the palms of his hands. “I thought for sure you had chosen to run.”

Yes. Sigyn had thought so too, had wanted him to flee. He had seen in her eyes, that peaceful resignation as she accepted her fate.

As if he could ever let her fall alone.

Thanos knew it. That was the frustrating part. He knew Loki would jump in to save her or die trying. He knew he’d give up his life, give up the tesseract, give up every living creature in the universe if it meant keeping her safe …

It didn’t matter now. Sigyn was free from harm, far outside the Titan’s reach, and the tesseract …

“Hand it over, princeling.”

Loki only smirked. History may call him Silvertongue, but oh, sometimes silence tasted so sweet.

Thanos’ eyes narrowed.

They dragged him to his feet in an instant. Loki didn’t fight it. It was only a matter of seconds before the realization would strike, and he for one was enjoying the anticipation.

The Titan towered over him. Loki fought the urge to laugh. He clearly thought himself intimidating, but his tiny eyes glaring out from beneath his helmet only made Loki think of an overgrown cockroach wearing armor.

Still, he bit his tongue.

“I’ll ask only once more,” Thanos leaned towards him, practically spitting in his face. “The tesseract. Hand it over.”

Loki didn’t flinch.

“My lord—” It was one of his Children, hunched over a datapad with a molded tension in his shoulders.

Here we go.

“What?”

“It’s not here.”

“What do you mean it’s not here?” Thanos snapped. “He has it!”

The man inhaled a shaky breath. “Forgive me sir, but he doesn’t. Here—” He held the tablet to the Titan with trembling hands in frantic supplication. “It’s not on his person. It’s not even on this planet. There’s not even the slightest trace of its gamma signature on this side of the galaxy!”

Loki grinned.

…

She awoke in her bed, cocooned in the snug embrace of her favorite fuzzy blanket. The rain pattered on the roof outside, a soft hum that almost soothed her back into slumber. Still, she pulled herself from sleep’s clutches and yawned, stretching as she sat up.

Such a strange dream.

It seemed so distant now, all wrapped up in warmth. She could only barely recall the last dregs of icy panic, floundering in a frozen river. And the man who had pulled her out …

She chuckled to herself. If only every nightmare ended with a tall, dark stranger rushing to her rescue. Although memory of his face eluded her, she couldn’t forget the feeling of his arm around her waist, so strong yet so gentle at the same time, clutching her to his chest like it was his sole purpose in life to hold her close. She sighed. Her subconscious had been kind to her last night.

A loud yowling from down the hall startled her from her reverie—the cat, demanding his breakfast. She frowned at the clock and jumped when she realized how late it was. Oh well. Can’t spend all morning fantasizing about handsome dream-men. Time to get up.

There was a song stuck in her head, she realized suddenly. It took her a moment to place it. Some silly jump rope chant from elementary school that she hadn’t thought of in years.

She giggled. How obscure is that?

Another meow reverberated through the apartment, an impatient edge to the cry. She groaned, throwing back the covers.

“Alright, alright, I’m coming!” One of her slippers was missing from its usual spot. She frowned. “Tigger, did you steal my slipper?”

Tigger only let out another screech, and she huffed. That damn cat was always snatching everything she left out and stashing them under something—he was a veritable hoarder.

“Fine,” she yelled, making her way to the kitchen slipperless. “Be like that, you little thief—”

So distracted was she by the cat, she didn’t notice the faint blue glow emanating from the tangled mess of her bedsheets.

[ethanharli]

Requested: Nah.

Pairing(s): Asra x Top Male Reader

Warning(s): Some Angst, Flashbacks, Mentions of heartbreak, Sudden confession, Cliffhanger, Long, Sister Nadia.

A/n- I brought this over from my Wattpad, and I edited it a bit but this is the longest One-Shot I've ever made, just fifty words away from three thousand :")).

_______________

A frustrated groan slipped past my lips as I fumbled with the sleeves of my costume, it may sound silly but its true. I refuse to wear anything that could reveal my torso, besides my face of course but that's only because its not covered in ink. Now don't get me wrong, the art adoring my body is nothing but beautiful, yet some of its a bit much for the public eye, and I hate attention. Guess Muriel and I are the same in that regard. After adjusting the sleeves I slipped on my rings and emerald necklace that clung tightly around my throat, which didn't bother me in the slightest bit as I drag my pierced tongue over my bottom lip. Finishing up with a few things I quickly locked up my house and headed on my way to the palace, Nadia had invited me over for the Masquerade this year since the last one ended with Lucio and the Devil trying to take over.

I really have to admire that apprentice, their magic is quiet fascinating. With a small smirk I slipped on my wolfs mask, nothing original but the black and vibrant neon of purple and green helping it stand out, even if only by the slightest. The journey to the palace was quite fun, watching people light up fireworks and drink to their hearts content without a worry in the world. Yet it was a whole new world once I entered the palace gates, making my way towards the ball room in hopes to run into my sister, but Nadia is nowhere to be found. "Should've expected as much, she is the Countess after all" I muttered with a proud smile, if only my familiar where here to keep me company but sadly having a grey wolf in this crowd isn't such a good idea, poor thing would be trampled despite her large size.

Taking a glass of wine I sipped it slowly, enjoying the bubbly feeling of it going down my throat. Yet a slither around my ankle caught my attention, and I froze at the sight of a familiar snake, looking up at me with their cute tilted head. "Friend!" Faust cheered, happily slithering up my body to rest on my shoulders, "Yes Faust, it's good to see you again" A pained smile forced at my lips, scratching softly under Faust's chin. If Faust's here then Asra and his apprentice must be close by, I should've expected as much. "Miss you" My heart tightened at the words, forcing the breath out my lungs painfully, and here I thought I could enjoy the Masquerade without running into anyone else, but I guess even an over packed Masquerade can't hide me from them. "I missed you too Faust-" My words were cut off by a familiar voice, merely a couple feet behind me, yelling for the beautiful creature wrapped around my shoulders.

"Im sorry Faust but I really should be leaving, please don't tell Asra I was here alright?" I asked as worry started to pool in the pit of my stomach, however Faust simply tilted her head, watching me curiously. Nevertheless I made a slow pace to the exit, not wanting to rise any sort of suspicion as Asra yells a bit louder. And there he is, my savior. Putting on a small smile I took a drink from a waiters tray, walking up to Julian without seeming any bit out of place, then once the right moment hit I brushed my shoulder against his and shrugged Faust onto him, not once turning back to look at them. However I knew I wasn't out in the clear just yet since a pair of eyes followed me as I left the room.

Being out in the hall felt a lot better then being so close to him. Especially when I'm not ready to face him just yet, hell I don't even think I have the power to look at him without freezing up, how stupid of me to think I could come back here. "[Y/n]?" The sound of Nadia's voice finally got me to relax a bit, letting the tension in my shoulders drop, "Hey Sis, it's been a while" I smiled down at her, watching as her eyes soften before pulling me into a tight embrace that I gladly returned. "Where'd you go? You told me that you were going to talk to Asra after what happened with Lucio and the Devil but it was only him that came back, he said he didn't know where you ran off to and when I tried to ask what happened he'd never answer!" Her crimson eyes glare up at me as they slowly fill with tears that I quickly brushed away.

"Its okay Nadi, Im back now and I plan to stay, I missed my little sister way to much to be gone for so long" I chuckled, trying to lighten up the mood even only for a second, before she looks at my costume with not very well hidden disgust. "You've really never had an eye for fashion have you?" She sighs, taking my hand and dragging me down the hall where Portia was standing. Once her eyes met mine her face lit up in realization, "[Y/n]! You're back!" She jumped up to hug me, which I returned with a ruffle of her long hair.

"Portia could you please get my dear brother to one of the guest rooms so he can change?" Nadi smiled and Portia couldn't have answered any happier, "Yes milady! Now c'mon [Y/n] lets get you a new costume!" She cheered, dragging me away by the sleeve of my shirt. Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew this wasn't going to end well, and by the time I was pushed in the room with a new set of clothing I knew I was right. The clothing was way to revealing for my liking, even though the color and fabric made me look elegant and right at home. The top exposed my arms and most of my chest, the 'V' stopping right above my waist which the pants hugged tightly, yet the rest of it was baggy except the bottom of it, which also hugged my ankles nicely.

But my tattoos and scars were out in the open. The skulls, flowers, and chains that decorate my body glowed a faint blue color, as if cheering that they were finally free from my always concealed clothing.

I didn't want to wear it, every part of my mind was screaming to tear it off but I couldn't. My sister picked this out for me and this is her party, I'll do it for her if not for myself. Sliding my mask back on I headed out the room, looking down at Portia with a nervous smile as she stared at the art in wonder, "I never knew you had these!" She pouted, looking as If I had betrayed her somehow. I could only reached out and pat her head, trying to ignore the eyes that locked onto me, "Im not very fond of them, so I always hid them, Im sorry for not telling you sooner." She merely rolled her eyes and smiled at me before realization yet again broke on her face, "I need to go tell the rest you're here! Stay put!" My eyes widened as I tried to stop her, but she was already out of reach before I could, and the slithery presence was back at my feet.

"Friend!"

Fucking hell.

At that moment I felt the fight to run away slowly drain from me, I knew I couldn't avoid him forever, no matter how hard I tried. Even so, with what resistance was left in me I headed towards the garden with Faust resting peacefully on my shoulders, and stayed put by the fountain, letting my eyes flutter shut for a mere moment.

_____

My palms started to sweat as I looked down into those mesmerizing lavender eyes that watched me with an amused glint, "Asra I-" The words got caught in my throat for the millionth time now, and even I was getting impatient with myself. But can you blame me? Asra looked so majestic under the moonlight, with the stars that practically glowed in his eye's, I don't think I've ever thought it was possible to feel so relaxed and intimidated at the same time.

"[Y/n], are you okay?" He asked, his voice barley above a whisper as he slowly reached up, softly brushing his fingers against my cheek. A flutter in my chest caused the chains on my body to recoil slightly, and thankfully he didn't notice the change, "No, I just can't hold it in anymore Asra" My hand clenched tightly on my sleeves, nearly causing them to rip while Asra brushed a lock of hair of of my face. "Hold in what?" He smiled, but my eyes drifted to his chest, looking where the mark on his heart is hiding, causing me to reluctantly pull away from his touch.

It was a simple friendly gesture he's always done to calm me down, to bring me back from whatever clouded my thoughts. So when I pulled away he reached out again, slower this time, as if any rushed movement would send me away. "Asra stop" He looked a bit shocked when I grabbed his wrist, but my grip was gentle, cause I'm more afraid of hurting him than anyone else. However the negative thoughts practically swallowed my mind whole as I rejected his magic from flowing into me. The mark on his chest was the only thing I could look at, cause it reminds me everyday that he gave up some of his heart for his apprentice, to bring them back. Jealousy truly is a cruel thing.

"Nevermind, it was foolish of me to think I even had a chance" I whispered with a bitter chuckle, taking a step back I crossed my arms, turning my broken gaze towards the sky. "Forget it, just go back to your apprentice, they need you more than I do" I don't know why my words came out laced in such malice and sorrow, but they did, and that seemed to earn a glare back from him. "What's wrong with you? Ever since you found out about my deal its like all you want to do is run away from me and push me away, if you have something to say to me then go ahead and say it, but do not drag them into this."

The chain around my neck tightened, slowly crushing at my windpipe as I clenched my fists and smiled softly to myself. I knew I'd regret what I did next, I knew it would weigh on me forever, I knew it would cause me much more pain then it did right then, but I did it anyway. Ill have to thank Ilya if this works, putting on my best face I turned towards Asra and scoffed, tilting my head a bit, like I usually do when pissed off, even though this is just a lovely facade. "Don't even bother, its not like you'd care anyways, would you? All you care about is that apprentice of yours, you even gave up part of your heart for them" I let the words flow, nearly letting the tears pool in my eyes when I spat them out.

"Is that really what you think?" He hissed, knuckles turning white from how tightly he was grasping his sleeves, but I didn't let myself falter under his gaze. "Asra I don't have to think it when I know its true, we've known each other since we were kids, you can't fool me" I scoffed, glaring back into his lavender eyes, keeping that gaze was a lot harder then I thought it would be. Before he could speak up I made sure to cut him off, "You love 'em, that's the only reason you'd do it right? Because you love them? Let me guess, you couldn't live without them could you?" I rolled my eyes, looking off to my left, practically feeling his breath hitch for a moment, confirming what I needed to know.

Im sorry Asra.

You don't have to forgive me.

Because I highly doubt these chains will go anywhere, I can never be free. Even with you by my side, the one person that keeps me together, the one person that I'd risk everything for.

Im so sorry.

"Just leave already, its not like you want to be here anyways right? So just leave me alone, I don't want you here."

_____

I don't remember much after that, but I do know he left, and I was left alone to wallow in my own despair. The chains got tighter over the year, so tight that the only thing keeping me breathing is all the techniques I've learned, and the fact I learned how to hold my breath for a long while. A few tears slip past my [E/c] eyes, that Faust happily wipes away with her tail, rubbing her face against my cheek, "Friend!" She smiles, curling against me, it felt so good to have her around again. Even if this'll be the last time.

The chains tighten a slight fraction, forcing me to hold my breath. "[Y/n]?" My body tensed at how my name rolled off his lips, it felt like a distant dream, like this isn't actually happening, but one look at him and I know its real. My god has he always looked so gorgeous? Or am I going crazy? Probably both. Once [E/c] met Lavender I knew I was done, his hairs pushed back like last year though the mask kinda looks the same, with only a few added touches, and his costume definitely gets him to stand out above the rest, just a beautiful array of bright colors clashing against his mixed skin, it hugs his figure perfectly. He looks like a god amongst the light of the fountain.

"Its me" I sighed out, reluctantly turning my gaze back to my feet. I couldn't help the surprise when he moved in front of me, placing both hands on my cheeks, looking into my eyes with such relief that I could hardly believe it. His touch sent shivers down my spine, slowly I started to breathe again as the chains retract a bit, I had clearly forgotten how revealing my clothes are, cause once the chains pulled back Asra's eyes shifted to them.  "How long have you had these?" He asked, trailing his hands down to trace the marking with a soft touch, "Asra wait-" Yet the mark appears, the same one he has, just mine glowed a faint blue in the center of my chest.

His eyes widened seeing the mark, keeping his eyes on it as if it were to attack at any moment, "You've never had chains, its always been your skulls and flowers, is it because of this? Why didn't you tell me about this?" He looked hurt, the same hurt in his eyes that he had a year ago when we last talked.

"What was your deal?"

Oh how I wanted to tell him, but the chains tightened at the thought, yet I pushed through it, Im tired of lying, I'm tired of keeping everything in, Im tired of it all, "That I couldn't be open anymore, that I wouldn't be able to speak my mind freely like I once did." A small cough ripped out my throat as a blue glow tried to burn past the chains, failing miserably. "What? Why?" He looked stunned, I don't blame him, I've always been one to speak my mind and tell everyone how I'm feeling, to be honest to myself and them without a care about what others thought.

But..

"I was scared, there's something I've always wanted to say, but I never could because I've always been so afraid about what would happen after, what if it went wrong? What if I messed up? What if I said something wrong? What if you-" My mouth snapped shut as quickly as it could, now I certainly can't avoid this, cause those lavender eyes stare at me with such intensity I might just burn away. His hands slowly moved up to my neck, letting his magic aid in pulling the chain away from my neck, allowing me to breath freely. "What about me?" He asked softly, keeping his gaze fixed on mine as my hands unconsciously travel to his hips.

I guess it's now or never..

Building what up whatever courage I had left, I pulled Asra against my chest, using one hand to push his mask out the way, before claiming his lips with mine.

[starswornoaths]

Her Pendants, His Garden

A commission for my dear friend @karoiseka of her girl and the resident crystal catboy! Post 5.0 below the cut, but no spoilers for the new patch, so you’re safe and sound to read! Thank you so much for your patronage, hon!

Commission Info!

If there was one thing, just the one, that the Exarch would consider a secret he would rather be kept to himself for fear of mockery, it would be that he felt something of an understanding of trees.

“Understanding,” might be a poor choice of word, though he wasn’t sure how else to describe the feeling he grappled with, standing still in the boundless, beautiful garden that was all of Lakeland, knowing he was the oldest thing in it. The lilac colored grass, the lavender elf trees, the brilliant blooms that had sprung to life...all things he toiled to help bring to life, things he had watched stretch ever higher, ever toward the sky. 

Perhaps that was why he struggled to consider himself wholly selfless: how could he plant trees whos shade he would never walk in, knowing that he would live for eons, as the Crystal Exarch?

“Your thoughts are loud.” His companion— his dearest one— mused at his side.

He turned toward her, the Warrior of Light and Darkness both, and couldn’t help but smile. Karoiseka hadn’t so much as looked his way, and yet she still knew him well enough that he was, once more, getting very much into his own head.

“Can you hear them? Do you know what I’m thinking?” The Exarch asked with a playful smirk. 

Truly, it wouldn’t surprise him in the least to discover that she knew exactly that he was thinking about; more often than not, she seemed to have an eerie, almost preternatural sense of what was weighing on his mind. As long as she never suspected he had a gift for her on his person, then he might yet manage to surprise her with something that wasn’t potentially world ending today.

“I’m not a mind reader, Crystal Boy,” she reminded him, and then she turned to face him, bending to peer up at him from under his hood. “But I can practically hear the gears in your head turning. That rarely means anything good.”

“I think of plenty of positive things!” G’raha insisted, even as he tugged his hood down to shy away from those piercing eyes of hers. 

“Oh? And what are you thinking of?” She asked with a perk of her ear and a swish of her tail.

He watched Karo straighten as they continued to walk down the garden path, and felt a twinge of guilt at not wanting to explain what, precisely, he had been ruminating over. His mind hadn’t wandered far before she had pulled him back to the present, thank goodness, but even with how close they had become, how much he loved her, endlessly, he struggled with trying to put to words how he felt regarding the years he had lived, and how much farther they stretched than they should have. 

No, better to think of the present. Of the warmth of her hand in his. Of the happiness, the want to live that she inspired in him. Of how he had never looked forward to tomorrow so much as he did when she reentered his life. Better to focus on her.

“I was ruminating on the weather, and hoping it holds for our outing,” he said instead— technically also the truth. 

“Oh, is that all?” Karo asked, and threw her head back in a laugh as if in relief.

The sound was bright and genuine. Her laugh was a ray of sunshine that he lingered in, warmed by her radiance. How quickly she made such concerns as nigh immortality seem so petty, compared to committing the present to memory. Historian and archivist as he was, he would be remiss in his duties to not take in her every brilliant facet.

So he decided to let himself be G’raha Tia today— and more specifically, just for her, he could let himself be Raha.

She made a point to reach for the hand not yet turned crystal, to make sure he could feel her touch and be comforted by it. He was glad he had foregone his usual arm wrappings; he’d have her touch as unobstructed as he could manage. He readily laced their fingers together and moved that inconsequential, crucial ilm closer to her, to unmake the distance entirely.

Karoiseka had done as much for him, had waded through the void and been battered by the stars themselves, had fought her way along the better path, all just to reach him. It was the least he could do to embrace the life she had battled so desperately for him to have— and to embrace her, for the love they had unexpectedly found along the way. 

Their walk wasn’t far— he could only wander so far from the Crystarium when not away on business, after all— though when they finally stopped at the shore of the lake, they at last came to a stop. After a scan to ensure they were well and truly alone, they set bow and staff alike against the tree beside them at the lakefront, a physical way to show that they had both unburdened themselves of titles and obligations, if only for this singular moment to enjoy their surroundings and one another alike. The breeze coming off the lake was refreshing, and the way it caught her hair when she turned to look at him stole his breath. Though really, she always did that anyway.

For a moment, they took in their surroundings— and each other— though the Exarch eventually gave into his own selfish desire and draped his arm warmly around Karoiseka’s shoulders. He didn’t dare tug her closer, he didn’t want to push her in any way, though he deliberately angled himself ever so slightly toward her in silent invitation.

When she let out a happy hum and bumped her head into his chest as a show of affection, she stumbled back unexpectedly when her temple connected with the spot he’d hidden his gift to her— the box tucked away in his breast pocket. 

“Oof— what—” She startled, gently rubbing at her temple.

A moment of panic hit him when she managed to hit the one spot on his chest he had hoped to conceal, though it was easy enough to hide that panic with the equally genuine panic of fretting over his beloved.

“A-ah! I’m so sorry, Karo—!” The Exarch let go of her hand and stepped in front of her with a swiftness that blew his hood off of his head. He ignored the way only one of his hands felt the gentle warmth of her skin when he cupped her face in his hands and tilted it up closer for inspection. “You hit one of the embellishments on my coat— did it hurt you?”

“No, no, you’re being silly.” Karoiseka insisted, flushing prettily beneath his searching fingertips, bright eyes averted even as she didn’t pull away from him. She pouted most endearingly when he smoothed his thumbs over her cheekbones. “You can stop fussing.”

“I have. Now, I am admiring!” The Exarch laughed, glad that he managed to sidestep her discovering the gift he had before he was ready to give it. “To have such beauty in my grasp, how could I not?”

“Oh! Y-you—!” Flustering, Karoiseka swatted at his chest— and when her hand smacked the hard, decidedly square box in his coat that accompanied a strange rattling, her hand froze there. The discomposed expression on her face twisted into a ponderous arch of her brow, a shift of her sharp gaze, and a curious tilt of her head against his hands. “Wait...what is…?”

He realized a second too late that she was staring at it, her fingers molding over the edges, flexing, inspecting, testing.

“Ah.” Knowing when he was caught and cornered, the Exarch sighed, removing his hands from her face to scratch at his cheek and fiddle with a tassel on his coat in nervous habit. “I had meant to surprise you with it.”

Her hand still remained enclosed over his coat, around the box, though she made no move to attempt to divest him of it for closer inspection. After a moment, her fingers went lax, no longer gripping around the edges, and shifted away from the box altogether to lay over his heart instead.

“You needn’t surprise me with anything. You know that.” She said, and it struck him how quietly she spoke those words.

The thought occurred to him that she might think the surprise grave, given his previous attempts at secrecy with her and the rest of the Scions. Or she might not have expected him to want to give her gifts.

Or...was she unaccustomed to it? Was it unwelcome? The thought hadn’t even occurred to him before now, though suddenly the slight weight of the gift in his breast pocket felt as dense as lead, and he had to make a concerted effort to swallow his heart when it leapt into his throat the moment that panic gripped him. 

“I know. I wanted to!” The Exarch managed around a stammer, mentally cursing himself all the while. Nevertheless, he persisted, “It was the least I could do— I feel as though we’ve hardly had a moment to ourselves, and I wanted to show you how much I—”

“You’re babbling, Crystal Boy.” She chided gently, words wrapped in a giggle and formed around a broad smile. “Be at ease. I’m flattered, I just want you to know I don’t expect it.”

“Ah. Ah!” His ears perking with realization were enough to give away that he hadn’t realized he’d gotten caught in a bit of a loop, his brightly blushing face only flushed all the deeper the more he looked at Karoiseka, who for her part was watching him with growing amusement. “Y-yes, of course! I’m glad to have surprised you— or rather! Surprised you in a good way— or in what I hope is a good way—” 

At Karoiseka’s pointedly blanched expression, brows raised in a very clear show of waiting for him to be quite finished with his anxious rambling, he visibly straightened himself as he cleared his throat, and when she removed her hand from his chest he made an effort to tug his robes back into place. 

“I should stop overthinking it, I think.” He admitted in a calmer tone.

“I agree.” She replied in a flat tone.

“Right.” With a deep breath to collect himself, he tried, again, to find his eloquence. “Karo. I know I’ve likely exhausted you for how much I remind you of how happy you make me.”

“You don’t. That’s impossible.” Karoiseka corrected him. Her ears tweaked in amusement as she offered a bashful smile. “I could never get tired of you in any sense of the word.”

“...Right.” He amended, ignoring the heat growing on his face. He was fairly certain his blush was spreading clear down to his chest by now.

When he averted his eyes from her patient, expectant gaze, he couldn’t help but let his focus shift to her bow, crossed over his staff and propped against the tree. It’s familiar blue crystals shimmered faintly in the sunlight, dappled with an iridescent kaleidoscope of fractals of light. 

Once he’d found his courage again and he peered at her with a sidelong glance, she looked ethereal, breathtaking, and somehow that made the words come easier. 

“Though I was not the one that gave you the bow you now wield, I know it was crafted with fragments of the tower.” 

“So I was told.” With a content hum, Karoiseka nodded. “But really, I could tell even before the weaponsmith said so— only so many crystals that are this shade of blue.”

“I rather liked the idea of a part of my home going with you on your journeys. To accompany you when I cannot.” The Exarch felt himself wince as he continued, “But I misliked the idea of only offering a part of me as a weapon for you. To mark you as an arbiter of the Crystal Exarch. Such an implication felt ill suited for you.”

“I never viewed it that way.” She tried to reassure him, though when he held up a hand to signal he wasn’t quiet done talking, she offered him a grin filled to the brim with fond exasperation. “Alright, alright, go on. I’m listening.”

Helpless in the face of his affection, helpless in front of her as he always was, the hand he’d held up moved to close the distance between them, to cup her face in his hand. She eagerly leaned into his touch, though her eyes twinkled in mischief when she snuck a kiss to his palm as she did so. Despite his flustering at her affectionate antics, her affection eased him into finally reaching into his coat with his free hand and producing the box she had bumped into. 

“I would much rather offer you a piece of my home that I had taken myself, and made into something that served no other purpose than to bring you joy.” He murmured, and slid his hand from her face to open it. “I wanted you to always have a part of me with you, to show the world— any world that you’re in— that I am yours, Karo. Always.”

The Exarch’s breath caught in his throat at the way she peered into the box, her eyes wide as saucers and her lips parted in shock. Though she moved a hand in the space between them, it hovered there, moving neither without nor within. She stood, transfixed by the two crystal hair tassels inlaid in the box. There was such little movement that for a moment, he feared he had offended her.

Then she spoke.

“Raha...” Karoiseka whispered in a voice that trembled with the weight of reverence and unshed tears in equal measure. 

That one utterance unmade him entirely, struck him at his heart, and before he could even register the sting of tears in the corners of his eyes— and in hers— she launched herself into his arms. Even unfeeling as it was, his crystalline arm wrapped around her to clutch her closer without thought, without anything but the instinctive need to always keep her close to him and remind him that he was human, that he was alive. He managed to avoid spilling the crystal tassels out of the box, even as he yet stumbled to keep them both upright from the force of her impact.

He made to ask if she was alright when he heard a telltale sniffle from somewhere around his shoulder. Her arms— powerful, fierce, unyielding as they were— squeezed him so tightly that he felt every jagged piece of his crystalline heart fit back into place. She had that effect on him all the time, really, but the physicality of it was soothing. 

“You like them?” He asked in spite of himself, just to be sure.

Karoiseka slipped her arms from him and stepped back, gazing at him with wide, glassy eyes, and in lieu of her own babbling, she smiled wide enough to make the corners of her eyes crinkle, enough to make those tears slip down her cheeks, even as she vigorously nodded. His posture softened in relief, and he moved to gesture toward the box still in his grip.

“Would you like me to put them on for you?” He offered.

With another enthusiastic nod of her head and another sniffle, he handed her the box and took the first of the two tassels in hand.

“They’re not too complicated— I am not much of a goldsmith, admittedly— a simple hinge and a clasp was about all I could manage.” He spoke softly as he clasped the first one around the end of one of her braids. “Though Iola was instrumental in ensuring that my handiwork was of suitable durability, for a blessing. I wanted to make sure these would endure whatever trials and tribulations you may face.”

“They’re beautiful.” Karoiseka finally managed to croak out, and from what he could see in his peripheral view, she was peering down at the other tassel, still in the box. “I can’t put to words how much this means to me.”

“You needn’t.” The Exarch reassured her, taking the second tassel. “That you would wear them so gladly is proof enough. I only hope these small tokens can convey even a little of how much you mean to me.” 

“Of course they do!” She reassured him.

The second braid he aimed to adorn was a little smaller, and a little trickier to put a tassel on. The fiddling gave him time to babble distractedly, letting his heart be more honest with her.

“I know that obligations have kept us both busy— and I, in particular have been scarce of late for my work. I feared it would be less apparent how I cherish you, so I suppose this is something of a declaration of mine, if you would have it.” 

“Always.” She promised him. 

The clasp finally worked through her braid and secured itself properly, though he lingered, his hands moving almost on their own, completely naturally, to hold her face again. 

“No matter what happens, I beg you to never doubt my heart, or your ownership of it.” His hands guided her head into tilting down just an ilm, just enough for him to press a kiss to her forehead. “I love you.” Her head straightened, and he kissed the tip of her nose, cherishing the way it crinkled cutely under the attention. “I love you.” The third kiss, she met him half way for, their lips finding one another in soft enthusiasm. “I love you, Karo.”

The tears she had managed to swallow came back in full force, though her smile had never been bigger or brighter, and he had never felt so warm.

“And I love you, Raha.” She whispered, overwhelmed. 

When she moved to embrace him again, he marveled at the way her new hair tassels caught the light that filtered through the tree branches, and shattered it in resplendent rainbows across her shoulder, across his chest. It seemed most fitting to him, as she had always been the sun spot that he had lingered in, a shunned outcast finding refuge and acceptance. In her arms, even the parts of him he had lost to the tower felt warm.

[unlockthelore]

A Request

When seeking a reprieve from the weight on his shoulders, Aether chooses to fly. But someone is always there to bring him back. This is part of the Where The Soul Lies Down series on Ao3. For more fics in this series, follow the where the soul lies down tag on this blog.

Ragged wisps of clouds clung to mountain peeks from neighboring isles. Their bluffs etched in sun glow reminded Aether of the guards lighting lanterns along the village’s winding roads. He’d flown overhead, only slightly weighed down by the book clasped tightly to his chest, and sore wings flapping against a warm, stiff breeze. Air rushed up to meet him. Wind currents keeping him afloat til just outside the city’s outskirts. When he looked back, the once dimly-lit huts were aglow. The local’s chattering pursuing him as he rushed into the forest, taking the trails marked by trees with a five-pointed flower engraved on their bark.

To where would it lead him, Aether was certain. He ran despite his feet’s protest as they stumbled over roots and kicked through the undergrowth. He tumbled forward when a loose vine jilted him backward with a snag on his right wing. A groan hissed between his teeth as he snatched the vine free, brushing his fingers over the amber canvases soothingly.

His feathers ached as he retracted his wings quickly, wincing at the soreness. Perhaps it wasn’t a good idea to fly with something so heavy. Although, if he’d gone on foot then there was no telling if he would have been caught leaving or not.

Tipping his head back while rubbing at the tender flesh at his shoulder blades, Aether gaped in disbelief. The once blue-green sky was violet-tinged, its depths glimmering with stars, and warning that his time would run out if he didn’t hurry.

So, he ran.

Away from his thoughts and the hustle and bustle of the bazaar. Merchants, artisans, and couriers exchanging wares and information alike were pushed to the reaches of his mind while he urged his body to move as quickly as it could. His forearms ached as he hugged the book so tightly it might have flattened against his chest. Pain scratched at his throat and tears sprang to his eyes as his lungs begged for air. Their pleas denied until he’d broken free from the underbrush, leaves sticking out of bangs fallen over his eyes.

Gasping for air and staggering forward on quivering legs, he careened forward and dropped to the wooden planks of the landing pier with a dull thud. Aether laid there for a long while, his eyes half-lidded and exhaustion creeping upon the edges of his sight. His hold on the book loosened for half a second. It wouldn’t have done anyone harm if he laid here for a while, he told himself. Surely enough, he would be able to rest and the intrusive thoughts rattling between his ears would settle.

His cheek pressed against the warm planks, rough and itching as he dragged his head to one side, grimacing at the wood’s grit and pinches. That was a silly thing to think. After all, if it were that simple then he could have stayed in the village with his sister and avoided running himself into the ground. Almost literally.

Aether drew himself up painstakingly slow, the book tucked in the crook of his arm as he settled with his legs tucked beneath him. The world twisted and churned around him, darkness crept along the edges of his vision and blurred his sight. His head swayed forward as he sighed and toppled backward in the soft, damp grass. Drops of water arose from where he laid, splattering against his cheeks and his arm, the excess wetting his back through the thin fabric of his tunic. Cool and refreshing against his skin albeit making it far more difficult to stay awake.

His eyes struggled to remain open but darkness engulfed the starry dusk sky and pulled him into echoes of memories.

An artificer with hair as red as the runic wand she’d been tending to smiled widely, streaks of dust smeared across bulging cheeks nearly coating her long eyelashes. She’d practically lit up the room - both literally and figuratively - from the sparks coming off the wand. Her bounding steps coming to a stop before them and out the corner of his eye, Aether could recall someone else was there with him but his attention was taken by the woman’s chipper, pitched voice: Well, it isn’t everyday you see sisters working together.

Aether shivered and bit the inside of his lip, dread pooling in his chest as the woman reached out. Her image rippled and dispersed in shards across his mind’s eyes. Replaced by another of an elderly man hobbling across the busy road with one hand set firmly upon Aether’s shoulder. He could recall the gnarled wrinkles in his fingers and his nails pressing down like a falcon’s talons. Yet, the man’s eyes were gentle and he weaved wonderful tales of his childhood adventures in comparison to those of his family.

You remind me of my granddaughter.

Aether tried to take it as a compliment. Apparently, his granddaughter had intelligence to match her bravery and willingness to listen to the ramblings of an old man. When he laughed at his doddery, Aether tried to laugh along but his chest felt tight and he bid the old man farewell before rushing off to the inn where he and his sister were staying. Lumine hadn’t been there at the time. Likely speaking to the owners to receive their pay for their courier-work. She’d return with a pouch full of coins then they would argue about what to eat for the night. An argument ending in several ‘one-more-time’ rounds of rock-paper-scissors before they split their reward and their food before turning in for the night.

Ordinarily, that is what would happen.

Today though, Aether snagged one of the books from the foot of their shared bed and climbed through the window just as he’d entered. Sparing a longing glance over his shoulder at their temporary residence, Aether quietly hoped Lumine would appear through the door to ask him where he was going or come with him. When neither happened, he leapt out into the dusk in hopes of finding his own peace somewhere on the isle.

Aether rubbed at his eyes and shook his head back to the present. He hardly noticed when the sun shone its last, and the sky darkened, clouds barely visible against the deep blue. Aether lifted his head to stare down his nose at the pier’s ledge then sighed. He’d barely made it to the ledge when his strength had given out. So much for the endurance training he’d been going through. Now, he’d have to try and summon the energy to return. His only hope was that Lumine wouldn’t be upset with him.

The strength to keep his head upright waned and he toppled backward to lie against the grass once more. His eyelids dipped, gaze barely missing the twins suns ascending as he flattened himself against the ground. “Wha— woah!” Aether lurched upright, narrowly missing colliding with the person looming over him as he struggled to an upright position. The book toppled off his lap and landed on the grass with a wet thump. A soft sigh met his ears and he twisted around, kneeling in the dirt. Lumine, lifting the book to her stomach and brushing off its dirtied cover, looked to him with furrowed brows and unsmiling lips.

“I was wondering where you ran off to.”

Aether winced, rubbing the back of his head. Those words were said with such concern that it felt like a blow across his neck. “Sorry,” he murmured to the grass. After a beat of silence, he peeked up at her to see her staring down at him worriedly. Her eyes gleamed in the moonlight and softened when their gaze met. What was his expression, he wondered, for her to seem so concerned.

Lumine sank down to her knees and touched the soaked sleeve of his tunic, pressing water from it as she rubbed the fabric between her fingers. Aether thought to warn her that she’d dirty her trousers but from the furrow in her brows and her pinched lips, Lumine wouldn’t have heard him anyway.

Silence. Tension. Even the air was oppressive, and he wondered what he could do to make his twin smile rather than fret over him.

“Did you check everywhere..?” He mustered a smile and dropped his hand to his bent knees when she glanced up at him. “When you were looking for me.”

Lumine regarded him quietly as if she were determining whether or not to answer him. Then, she smiled and for a moment Aether felt everything was right with the world. She shuffled up to her feet and tucked the book in the crook of her arm. Her free hand extended to him, fingertips wet and soft as a flower’s petals as he grasped them to pull himself up.

“Didn’t have to,” said Lumine, her fingers squeezing his aching ones then loosening their hold. She wasn’t letting go of his hand and he was wise enough to know not to pull away. Nor did he want to. “I know where you go when you’re thinking.”

Aether snorted at that. He highly doubted it. They were together often on their travels but he went off on his own occasionally to find interesting spots. Although, he did tend to share them with Lumine when his curiosity got the better of him.

Huffing, Aether said, “No way. You just got lucky.”

“I know you.”

Lumine leveled a flat stare at him. Aether had seen it plenty of times mirrored on his own face, and while he wanted to laugh, echoes of voices from earlier spiked a wave of disgust down his spine. He pressed his lips together defiantly and slipped his hand free of Lumine’s. Her mouth fell open and the look of concern had returned but he turned away before his mind could dwell on it.

Wooden planks creaked beneath his soles. Suffocating, isolating pressure biding in his chest until it stole even the wind’s solace from him. It wasn’t until the toes of his boots reached the pier’s ledge that he stopped walking. The way forward was nowhere. He couldn’t leave unless he flourished his wings and left his sister behind.

His sister.

Lumine had been remarkably quiet while Aether walked on. His thoughts combined with the pressure in his chest clogged his chest, leaving room for little else. Aether swallowed his apprehension and peered over his shoulder. At the other end of the pier stood his sister, an almost ghostly figure against the deep shadows lingering over the wood. The book held close to her body and her eyes refused to leave his own.

Had she been staring at him the entire time?

Aether wondered what he could say to explain how he felt. How he wished his sister knew everything so he could feel silly for running from her side. For all of his cleverness and curiosities, answers eluded him in droves and silence reigned between them. Guilt gnawed at his heart as Lumine’s gaze lowered and her eyes shuttered, shoulders curving inward and head bowed. It wasn’t right.

Although, a tiny part of him wouldn’t allow him to simply run back to her side. Guilt paired with apprehension created a dangerous reaction. Nothing. He did nothing as his sister curled in on herself, hurt by his lack of closeness. Aether’s shoulders sagged with regret as he turned toward the distance and stared out at the rising moon. Then, his eyes fell to the world below, blanketed with clouds.

He could hardly bring to mind countless theories of what dwelled beneath the cloud-like sea. No one in their year, let alone those who came before them had ever come to know the world below. Some had even come to believe there was nothing beneath but an endless abyss filled with shards from dying stars. The further one went, the deeper the darkness would become until they knew no more.

A tale most would take as a warning, but Aether considered a challenge and a lesson.

He curled his fingers into fists, pressed tightly against his sides. “… Hey Lumine,” called Aether, voice low but echoing loudly in the night’s quietude. “.. Would you love me… even if I wasn’t your sister?”

The words flew free from his lips as a weight lifted from his shoulders. Now that they left him, he couldn’t bring them back no matter how much he tried. Seconds seemed to stretch into infinity without a reply. It would have been more bearable to simply throw himself from the ledge and find if the rumors of the world were true. But then, something encircled his wrist and he jolted upright, only able to take a half-step backward before Lumine was pulling him closer. Her eyes were wet. Dew-like tears clinging to her eyelashes with every blink. Aether didn’t know how to respond. He’d wondered if he would have seen disgust in her eyes, or hear her disregard how he felt.

We’ll always be sisters.

Those four words which brought him comfort when they were small children only made his stomach churn now. Lumine’s face crumpled and she squeezed his wrist again, making Aether’s skin crawl with the non-answer.

“Lumine..?”

Lumine blinked rapidly at the sound of her name then sniffled. A pale pink beginning to flush her cheeks. She slowly nodded, her hold on his wrist easing.

Aether sighed then turned toward her, grasping her hand tightly. “That doesn’t mea-”

“Why would you think I wouldn’t -” Lumine trailed off, squeezing his fingers.

They stared at one another. Lumine’s hold on his hand so tight that Aether was certain his fingers would turn colors before long. His stomach lurched with fear as her lips parted.

“I will always love you,” said Lumine. Her sharp tug on Aether’s hand nearly had him tumbling into her. A yelp echoed in his ears and his eyes shut tightly, waiting for the air to rush around them. When nothing came, he cracked open his eyes.

Golden threads, fine and light, swayed before his eyes like the wheat fields they’d passed over on another isle. Like a sea of gold laid out before them, blazing bright beneath the sun’s rays.

Aether let his chin rest against Lumine’s shoulder, jaw quivering as he fought against the warm wet stinging at his eyes.

“Never forget that…”

 ----------

A sharp tug drew Aether back to the present. He yawned and blinked lazily at the fishing pole in his hands, nose wrinkled when the line swung. Balmy weather paired with the salty sea breeze made for an enticing mid-afternoon nap. However, his stomach growled in protest and reminded him why he was sitting here fishing to begin with.

A few nudges from the fishing pole brought his attention back to the crystalline waters, disturbed by the tide rolling up to the shore, washing his sand-covered toes. While he waited, Aether wondered if this was what the world below would have been like in that realm. Would his sister have enjoyed to see something like this if they hadn’t fallen into that trap before?

Aether sighed and pressed his thumbnail to the five petaled flower carved into the fishing pole’s side. Some habits never seemed to change.

Another tug, too sharp for him to ignore, nearly jolted him forward and his eyes flew open as he reared backward. The line yanked taut. He truly hoped that he didn’t have to replace this one as well. It’d taken forever to weave together one sturdy enough. But thankfully, the line held and with a sharp enough pull, his catch broke free from the water’s surface.

Aether’s jaw fell open and he scrambled to drop his fishing line, wading through the surf to grab the tiny figure hurtled through the air. The solid, heavy thing crashed into his chest and he stumbled backward, falling onto his behind as the waves rolled over his legs. Aether groaned in time with someone else’s and adjusted himself, peering down at the cherubic face of a little girl.

[ramblingguy54]

Hello again, in case you didn't get my ask, which scene or episode would you say the main cast of Amphibia (Brenda (Anne), Justin (Sprig), Amanda (Polly), and Bill (Hop Pop)) does their best performances as their characters?

Alrighty, let’s get this show on the road.

Brenda Song’s best performance would have to be when Anne was describing little details about her mother in Hopping Mall. There’s no doubt in my mind that she was pulling stuff from her own experiences in life associated with Brenda’s own mother. Loved that delivery on the particular line of,��“ You know the funny thing is...Right now...I’d give anything just to hear her singing.”. Easily my favorite performance from Brenda’s acting as Anne, where she embodied this characterization that is seriously important for viewers to buy into her acting. When Anne was breaking into tears I didn’t picture someone behind the mic, but felt like I was seeing an actual person pouring their heart out. Now that right there is how you know that’s great acting from an actor or actress. Not to say her acting in the amazing Season 1 finale, Reunion, wasn’t good either, as Brenda did a great job with her dramatic acting chops there, too. It’s just that Hopping Mall struck a chord with me, given how well Brenda poured herself into embodying those feelings one has of their connection to a parental figure. 

With Sprig’s VA, Justin, I’d say his top notch performance is either the Grubhog Day, Fiddle Me This, or, again, Hopping Mall, as each of these stories showcases more underlying drama that Sprig’s VA had to emulate besides his usual shtick of being the hyperactive comic relief. Really liked his performance of building up frustration against Hop Pop’s hard lined training regiments in Fiddle Me This, where Sprig finally has an outburst at him for pushing him so much into a contest that he just wanted to have fun in. Grubhog Day showed more of his insecurities of trying to please Hop Pop, despite not wanting to take responsibility on the whole Grubhog tradition Wartwood does annually and have fun at the fair. Sprig has usually been seen by Hop Pop as the irresponsible trouble maker, so this was another great opportunity to explore that idea yet again of how much this weighs on the poor kid’s mind of not feeling good enough for him as a son, which Justin did a well in acting out those emotions and especially at the end when he says, “ I knew it was important to you, so I played along. I just wanted to make you proud.”. Hopping Mall is more or less along the same lines as before, except very profound, with how it explores Sprig’s emotional tip toeing around something he’s insecure about, which was whether or not it’s silly to miss his own mother, even though she passed away when he & Polly were very young. Justin delivered Sprig’s lines at the end with such conflicting emotions, yet deep longing, toward wanting a mother.

Amanda’s best acting as Polly is one I’m gonna have to chalk up to Truck Stop Polly. Season 2 was all about upping the stakes a bit more emotionally for exploring each character’s struggle in Amphibia’s wilderness outside of Wartwood, where showing Polly’s conflict of trying to find comfort provided for some very nice acting material from Amanda. That delivery on, “I really am just trouble aren’t I? You were right. Maybe you should’ve left me back in Wartwood...”, really made me feel for Polly because she’s not used to this kind of traveling and being the youngest certainly doesn’t help in that regard, either. Hope to see more dramatic material with Polly in the future because Amanda can do a damn good job with pulling off dramatic stuff when needed, of course. As for Hop Pop, that’s tough to nail down because Bill Farmer is such a wonderfully talented VA it’s hard for me to decide on what his best performance was, overall. I’m leaning towards either Hop Popular or Fiddle Me This, which showcased good material for Bill Farmer to further bring the character to life with his terrific acting chops. We got to see his insecurities at trying to make a living as an upstanding figure in the election episode, where he had to put the needs of others above his own desires for wanting back his food stand. Fiddle Me This did an excellent job showing his terrifying concerns as trying to be a role model parent, by doing everything he can to provide for his kids, since he’s the only adult Polly & Sprig got in their lives they can learn from in general. Bill Farmer’s remorseful delivery on, “I just wanted to give you a better life, than the one I can give you now...”, to Sprig goes to reinforce his acting skills being so experienced, as seen with what he accomplished in A Goofy Movie, of hitting that right note of gushing out parental affection, as if it were his own son Bill was talking to. Long story short, the voice cast for Amphibia are simply well rounded and awesome.

[split-n-splice]

Oop, a longer chapter. Bear with me.

[Chapter Guide | FFn | Ao3]

40. Whose Side – 3

Her foul mood was expected, but her curt greeting still stung like a viper bite.

“I-I’m sorry I’m late,” sputtered Drakken, glancing at his bitter passenger. Making up excuses was a lost cause, but the feeble explanation tumbled out of his mouth before he could think to match her callous attitude. “I slept through my alarm, a-and I got distracted, and then you didn’t answer when I called so I figured I had best come check on you, but you weren’t home—”

“Drakken,” she interrupted tersely with a voice cold and sharp as ice.

He gulped. “Yes, Shego?”

“Shut up.”

He bit his cheek to silence an objection. The van idled a moment more as he studied her dark glare fixed dead ahead, her arms folded tight across herself and the faintest hint of green glimmering from between her fingers, visibly containing how upset she was at – at him? What had he done? Besides forget to pick her up from Buckley’s again? He wracked his brains quickly, but decided figuring her out was best saved for another time.

Attempting to appease her didn’t suit the image he was going for. He’d have to work on it. Nonetheless he couldn’t stop himself from piping up. “It’s not too late to pick up some Chow.”

Shego was silent.

Drakken turned the van around and said nothing of it when she dug out a pack of smokes from her pocket to light one up. He certainly kept his eyes off her every time she brought it to her lips to take a puff. Or he tried to, anyway.

By the time he’d navigated his way back to the Cow-n-Chow, she’d relaxed enough to kick her feet up on the dash and tune the radio. That came as some relief, but he knew better than to believe the danger had passed. Drakken was ready to order her usual for her when she spoke up, requesting salad instead. Erring on the side of caution, he ordered her usual anyway, which she tucked into and finished without a word before demanding another stop for a video rental.

He anticipated being presented with a dark and ominous film, but instead she returned to the van dully announcing she could use a laugh, and flashed the cover of a detective comedy. He had mixed feelings about the whimsical man in the picture, but ultimately decided it wasn’t his movie to watch and so the only opinion he spared was a grunt.

“Anything else?” could have been asked a little more nicely, but she could have answered a little more crossly too so he counted his blessings.

“Yeah. Do you have popcorn back home or should we pick some up?”

A sound of frustration snuck out of his mouth, but at least he could nod.

She’d get her popcorn and movie, and he – he had a backlog to catch up on. If there was any urgency to complete projects though, he quickly forgot about it when Shego’s fingers curled around his arm as he made to cross the tech lab to head downstairs. Weak against her pull, he followed her lead with nary a word in defiance.

He barely stifled his protest when he was shoved down onto the couch, his shoulders feeling strangely sunburned where she’d pushed him. “Shego, I can’t—,” was all that made it out of his mouth before her cold stare shut him up. He sat stiffly in place for a minute, contemplating ways to get out of a goodie-goodie comedy he already owned a copy of. He told her where the popcorn was when asked, but otherwise kept his lips zipped tight as the buttery aroma warmed the stale air.

Shego still wore the same stony glare as she wordlessly turned down the lights, popped in the tape, and threw herself down on the far end of the couch, guarding her bowl of popcorn she didn’t seem keen on sharing.

By the light of the previews, Drakken dared to watch her from the corner of his eye – and before they were over, he’d found the gall to unzip his lips. “Do I need to build a brain tap machine to figure out what has you so…so…,” pissed off would not be a safe choice of words, he decided as Shego’s glare turned to sear through him. “Because I can and I will.” How hard could it be? Like a lie detector, but more in depth, right?

“Stay. Out. Of my brain,” she ground out. Slumping further and drawing her knees up, she added in a small grumble, “Jackass.”

He didn’t know what he’d done to deserve her ire, but he knew a brain tap machine was off the table. For now.

Drakken crossed his arms and willed his gaze to stay on the television, but it strayed once more as scenes he’d seen before played out. She couldn’t be that angry at him for being so unfashionably late, could she? Puzzled, he stared until her jaded gaze darted to him, if only for a split second.

He hardened his own frown on the television, willing his arms to unfold, bracing himself to stand on the count of three – or ten – or one hundred. He made it to the count of sixty-five when he bit the bullet. His butt was lucky to have made it an inch from the cushion when a hand snapped out, nails digging into his shoulder. He could smell the trace of fabric smoldering beneath Shego’s palm, and felt the tremble before she retracted her grip and stuffed her hands in her armpits to hide the faint green glimmer emanating from her palms.

Swallowing and setting his jaw, Drakken stared down the moody young woman who did not appear to be enjoying her movie whatsoever. “I have better things to do with my time than—,” he began tersely, but of course was interrupted by his puzzling company.

“Lipsky, you are going to watch this normal movie with me, on a normal couch, on a normal television,” she said, her voice bearing a threat of consequence if he dared defy her. “And it’s going to be – I’m going to be—,” she was swallowing hard then as if to gulp down the frog in her throat, batting her lashes to blink away – oh for Pete’s sake, were her eyes misty?

This wasn’t a tearjerker movie, but he glanced to the television anyway as some silly, borderline obscene, gag played out.

“Yes?” he carefully urged, playing the odds she might shed a little light on the situation.

Shego all but blew up on him, flipping the bowl of popcorn balanced on her knees in the process. “NORMAL!” she shouted in frustration, and in the dim light, he caught a glimpse of the green embers fizzling and oozing from her palms as she clawed the air as if she wished to wring someone’s neck. “I want to feel normal! Just for a little while. So please. Forget about anything outside of this room for the next ninety minutes. Just shut up. Shut up and watch the fucking movie with me.” Given the daggers she shot at the television, it was a wonder she didn’t pelt it with plasma.

The startling outburst had Drakken pressed to the far corner of the couch, but at least she didn’t paw at any tears. She looked as though she’d rather throw punches before she let tears roll down her cheeks, though he was sure he saw the threat looming by the rapid flutter of her eyelids. He studied her as she curled into herself again.

He scoffed and gestured to his own blue skin. “Normal? Shego, normal is something people like us aren’t likely to be getting back,” he blurted out, much colder than intended. Even if true, once the words left his mouth, he braced to be struck with a punch, or maybe a glow-laced punch, or maybe hands around his throat, or—

Shego drew a shuddering breath and continued to glare at the television as though that would be enough to let out whatever pent-up frustration he was caught in the crossfire of. “It’s not just that,” he barely heard her grumble into her knees.

“Then what?” Drakken carped. She’d said shut up. He should have listened.

Thankfully a reprimand – verbal or physical – didn’t come, though he was so braced for one he was starting to cramp up. Shego was quiet for a long moment, until finally she exhaled slowly as though to calm herself. He swore he could see it, like breath on a chilly morning or a thin wisp of smoke after taking a drag. “It’s personal,” she said decisively.

In that case, whatever business she had with his television and couch tonight was none of his. Before second thoughts could weigh him down again, Drakken stood and played deaf to her displeased grunt behind him. He glanced to the door. He did have things to do. But he also had something he’d wanted to show her. He’d even tried to tell her so earlier, but she’d been determined to make him sit and keep her company.

“Do you mind if I—”

“Yes,” she snapped.

“You don’t even know what I was going to say!” he griped back, barely without whining, and pinched the bridge of his nose before trying again. “I think you’ll like it. I was really looking forward to showing it to you.”

It was the truth. He’d intended to show her the rare orchid sometime this evening, ever since she’d asked about it on the ride to Buckley’s Brew. And right now, she sure looked like she could use something to lift her spirits. Though there was also a risk, given the funk she was in, that she could destroy the specimen without regard to its value or the lengths he’d gone through to construct the miniature biosphere to grow the picky plant in, let alone the seeds he’d acquired in a high-stakes gamble. With a little work under the scope, the plant he’d genetically-modified himself months ago had been brought to bloom years ahead of schedule.

Shego’s misty-eyed glare burned into him for a long moment before she gave a stubborn sniff and reached for the remote to stop the movie with a loud crackle of white-noise filling the room. “Whatever,” she said coldly. “I’m going to get dressed for bed.”

It was barely six in the evening – but Drakken refrained from bringing that up as she shouldered past him. Her burnt mattress and linen had yet to be replaced. He desperately hoped that by tomorrow, his couch wouldn’t need to be replaced too. He frowned down to the marks she’d left on his coat, blue fabric singed black where shoulder pads ought to be, and discarded the victim of his volatile hot-tempered accomplice over the back of a barstool.

He slowly counted to three – only three – before leaving his living quarters and into the tech lab. Already, Shego was nowhere in sight, but as he passed down the hall toward his office, he heard the shower running. He tried not to slow or pause or lean toward the washroom door, but he didn’t make it past in time to miss a distinct sniffle inside. She couldn’t possibly be that upset he’d failed to pick her up from Buckley’s. Personal, she’d said. Then it was none of his business, he reminded himself, squaring his shoulders and stalking off for his office once more.

She wanted to be normal, she’d stressed. What was that supposed to mean? Drakken again wracked his brains. What was her idea of normal? Was she homesick? Did she regret passing up her opportunity to rejoin her brothers? Just a few nights ago, when he’d mistakenly brought his own personal woes to her, they’d sat together in front of her television and she’d drowsily reminisced about piling up on the sofa for family movie nights, failing to console him through his acceptance that he may never see his own family again – though he could barely relate to whole idea of family movie nights as an only child. Did she miss that? Not being alone? He knew she had four brothers, at least, and a father, and presumably a mother too – in other words, some aspect of her normal was a sizable family. He was only one person, and he was not crowding henchmen into his quarters to substitute for a family. Androids and henchmen had to be a sorry substitute for family anyway.

Drakken stopped at the bottom of the staircase, sighing wretchedly and rubbing at a crick in his neck.

It was quite possible he was off the mark, but if she wouldn’t tell him what was on her mind and he couldn’t devise any mind-tapping devices to get to the bottom of it himself, he was left to speculate. Unfortunately speculating was bound to give him a headache. Leaving Shego to sort herself out was possibly for the best, he decided, but he still turned for his desk to retrieve the orchid he’d left there.

He froze in his tracks when he lifted his eyes from the stone floor to see an uninvited figure sitting sidelong in his office chair, holding the glass pod containing the plant. Unplugged from what was essentially its life-support system, the delicate little biosphere was scarcely more than a glorified flowerpot, but it was still infuriating to see the intruder turning it over so carelessly.

The wave of alarm washing over him had Drakken scanning the room, frantically questioning where he’d had that blasted intruder alert button installed. That’s right – it was at the CCTV system desk across the office, in convenient reach of any henchman on security duty. Why didn’t he have a henchman stationed there anyway? He should know better than to let his guard down with a perceived threat in the area! He grit his teeth, inwardly berating himself.

“So,” cooed the young woman behind his desk before he could storm up to her. “Who’s this for?”

Frozen, Drakken couldn’t help a nervous gulp. There was no way she could know he’d brought it up from the basement for Shego. Then again, maybe she did. He thought out loud sometimes, and this stranger had the gift of invisibility to make spying a breeze. “Shego,” he growled through his teeth, though it wasn’t so much an answer as it was the irate wish for his accomplice to be beside him to explain the woman’s presence.

Miss Kimbley arched an eyebrow and smirked. “She doesn’t go for flowers,” she informed as if offering a helpful piece of information. “Oh, but try a fish dinner!” she recommended instead, smiling wider and chuckling, though Drakken failed to see what was so funny as there was certainly nothing comical about the territory she was suggesting. Even the henchcrew was strongly advised against cracking jokes of such nature.

Cheeks warming over, Drakken fixed a grimace on his face and hoped it was enough to mask his fluster. He sputtered something indignant and incoherent before he could stop himself, and he bit his tongue with a grunt and tried to form the words right before he spoke again. “What are you doing here? How did you get in?” he demanded, crossing the room to yank the spherical biosphere from the intruder’s hands. She was Shego’s acquaintance, but he was certain Shego wouldn’t have willingly invited her in.

The woman shied back just a little bit at the bite in his tone, but then she rose to her feet, pushing the biosphere aside to stand toe to toe. Drakken decided to set it down for safety’s sake, though the thought occurred too late to cradle it in his arms and make a mad dash upstairs for Shego. Instead he glanced across the room toward the CCTV desk, wildly seeking the button to sound the alarm, and lurched back from the fingers spreading over his chest.

“I have an offer for you, Mr…?” said Miss Kimbley, but he recognized a honeycoated tone when he heard one.

“Drakken,” he hissed. He batted the hand away, taking a swift step back toward the staircase – and most importantly the alarm button across the room. “Dr. Drakken.” Hadn’t he clarified that earlier? Alias or not, maybe he shouldn’t be giving his name out to a potential Global Justice spy. Even so, if she had something to offer, she had something to gain, and it was practically reflex to inquire, “What do you want?”

Despite another step back, the intruder was invading his space once again. “Better question,” she chimed, giving the bottom of his tie a tug. He snatched her hand this time, and tried not to consider how cold her fingers felt compared to Shego’s, which he could so often feel warming him even through his gloves. She didn’t let up, clearly not taking the hint nor offence to his scowl and raised lip. “What do you want, Doctor?”

Impulse urged him to snap at her that he wanted her out of his lair. The woman was trespassing, therefore posed a threat, and he was inclined to trust Shego’s judgment that he ought to keep his distance. Which was hard to do with his back against the wall. His mouth was dry. Where was that button? Better yet, where was Shego?

“Whatever she’s offering, I can do better,” said the confident pretty little thing before him in a voice that made his stomach give a sickened flip-flop. An odd shimmer like a mirage glazed over the woman and she was gone – to the naked eye, anyway. He knew better than to believe she had left, not when he still felt the invisible touch running down his stomach and—

If he hadn’t had a reason to panic before, he certainly did at the first tug of his belt.

“Hands off, missy!” snarled Drakken, leaping to the side and stumbling over his own feet. He reached for his waist – everything was in place – and just to be sure everything was in order, he tucked his shirt in a little neater.

The ghost of Shego’s past was visible again, down on her knees, a chafed look on her face for a split second before one of deep consideration settled in its place. Her gaze strayed from him as he regained his composure, her hazel eyes darting to his filing cabinet. One of the drawers had been pulled open. Had she been rifling through his files? Without a doubt, if she was here to spy.

“You need a thief, right?” she said, taking a stab at finding his sweet spot from another angle. “Assassin? Watchdog? I’m your gal.” She stood, gesturing to herself.

She most certainly was not his gal. He didn’t have a gal. And even if he did, even if Shego – Drakken stopped that thought in its tracks and gnashed his teeth, hoping his glare was as menacing as the ones he practiced in the mirror. But by the slow bat of the intruder’s fake eyelashes, it was not.

“I’ll have to get back to you on that,” he ground out, gesturing to the stairwell to signal it was time she took her leave. If she couldn’t take the hint, then he didn’t need someone on his crew who needed it spelled out for them.

Priscilla Kimbley glanced from the stairs to him, the calculating look still set in her furrowed brow. “Look, man, I need a change of pace,” she said pointedly, taking a step closer once again, but he squared his shoulders and balled his fists and she paused. Hopefully intimidated. Hopefully thinking twice about trying underhanded persuasion a second time. “Looks to me like Shego struck gold here. I saw some of your shit in the basement. Pretty wicked stuff.” Her wry smile was back. She couldn’t still be pushing for what he thought she was, could she? She didn’t look like the henchwoman type. She wouldn’t last a week in villainy.

Drakken glanced across the room to the button again. He could press it now, and Priscilla could be gone by the time the henchmen assembled, and if Shego was still in the shower – well, whatever the case, the intruder would be long gone before anyone could hope to catch her.

“Shego is more than I can handle, thank you,” he said stiffly, stepping toward the stairwell and nodding up it. He needed this woman out of his lair, before Shego could see her and he risked having another catfight on his hands. “Goodbye, please leave.” If only it was that easy. She understood the hint. No one was that stupid.

She still took her time sauntering over to him. “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” she said flippantly. “She’s not even giving you one-hundred percent.”

True, he wasn’t taking advantage of his accomplice’s full potential, but she did what he asked of her and that was enough. He still couldn’t stop his brow from scrunching as the intruder passed him and took the first step up. He nearly reached out to snatch her by an arm. “What do you mean?” he all but demanded.

The young woman paused to glance back. “She’s on drugs,” she answered simply, as though it were obvious.

And maybe it was obvious to anyone who knew the troubled superhuman. He’d like to think he knew her well enough. He’d smelled evidence on her before, and she’d made a friendly offer the other night and had the paraphernalia and everything. “I am aware she smokes—”

Priscilla Kimbley laughed, the single bark echoing up the stairwell, and she clamped her mouth shut as if only realizing now how well sound traveled in the lair’s stony corridors. “Nah, not that kind,” she said, toning it down to little more than a giggle. She set her hands on her hips, beaming down at Drakken, and he hated having to tilt his head to look up at the woman standing several steps above him now as she explained. “This shit puts her out cold. And I do mean cold. Total chill pills. Those megalomaniacs pulling the strings of that little superhero team of hers use it to keep her under control. I can get you some, if you wanna mess with it.” She gave a nonchalant shrug, as if offering to give him some miracle drug to control someone as dangerous and unpredictable as Shego was no big deal.

“I-I know about that too,” he bluffed. But did he really? He’d had a suspicion she’d been taking something, but it could have been anything. Truthfully he hadn’t given it much thought, but he wracked his brains quickly now.

When she’d first arrived, she’d skulked through his lair half-asleep occasionally, sometimes grumbling about withdrawals late at night amidst her unique issues – issues which were just now proving to be not as benign as he’d thought, if her crispy mattress had anything to say about it. If such a drug did exist, why in the world would she be back on it? Was she relapsing? She couldn’t be. She’d been so excited to use her full power when he’d made her the enhancing gloves – why would she self-sabotage herself to turn down the heat? Where would she have even gotten such a drug?

Drakken’s mind didn’t finish reeling through the possibilities before he blurted, “She doesn’t take them anymore—”

The intruder scoffed and reached into a pocket, producing a little orange bottle. She rattled the contents. “And you believed her?” she jeered down at him.

Drakken made a reflexive grab for the bottle but the woman held it out of reach with a wicked snicker before surrendering it without further difficulty. He couldn’t believe his eyes. It had to be just a bottle of aspirin, but the label – bearing a bar code and dosage with the instructions Take with food before bed, prescribed to simply Shego – looked legitimate enough, even if it didn’t clarify what the drug was. He trusted his accomplice leagues more than this shifty intruder, and he trusted her not to weaken herself – not to mention, if she was taking it, then she would have to be in contact with the supplier, Global Justice, and there was no way—

“I’ll let you sleep on it,” said Priscilla, interrupting his doubtful train of thought. She smiled again as she backed away up the staircase. “Roofie her if you don’t believe me. Only way you’ll get to have a little fun with her.”

He had plenty of fun with Shego – Vegas and the stolen station wagon were still fairly fresh in his mind – but as the words sank in, he concluded that spray painting graffiti and pushing cars off cliffs wasn’t the kind of fun this woman was suggesting. He opened his mouth to object, to defend himself or Shego or them both, but the intruder had vanished in the blink of an eye.

Maybe Shego hadn’t been over-exaggerating when she’d said the woman was not a friend. Maybe she’d had every reason to attack her when she’d arrived on her doorstep.

Stupefied for a second too long, he was late in diving up the stairwell, reaching out to grasp at open air, hoping to catch the invisible lady in his lair, but his hand met only empty air. “I am not drugging my partner in crime,” he hissed out, knowing she must still be near enough to hear him, and strained to listen for the slightest breath or shuffle of retreating feet.

He heard nothing.

Still clutching the pill bottle in one hand, daring not stow it in a pocket lest the intruder merely steal it back – invisiblity had to grant an innate talent for pick-pocketing – Drakken climbed the staircase a few steps more, his free hand outstretched and feeling uselessly for the invisible intruder. When he decided it was a lost cause, he let his hand fall and he snorted his frustration. An invisible woman who didn’t want to be caught would be a challenge to catch without a full sweep of the lair with infrared goggles, and he simply didn’t have enough for every henchman, nor did he have his own handy.

“I am not drugging Shego,” he repeated to himself, though as he returned to his office, pills in hand, he had to wonder how often she drugged herself. He tried to guess how many pills were in the bottle – the label specified 30 – and wanted to believe that most, if not all, were still accounted for. Where had Shego even gotten the pills? Had she brought them from Go City? She couldn’t possibly still be in contact with that rotten Global Justice – that would make her a spy, wouldn’t it? He trusted her not to be a spy. He knew it in his gut! Her brothers, on the other hand…

He shook his head but it didn’t clear up the plague of second thoughts he had now about his partner.

Drakken dropped himself down in his desk chair and pushed up his glasses to rub his weary eyes until stars burst behind his eyelids. Friday night, Shego had behaved especially strangely. He didn’t want to consider the possibility it wasn’t just the alcohol to blame – but he’d been sober enough at the time she’d stolen his cheese to make out her cursing to herself about needing to eat with something she damned with enough profanity to make a sailor blush. Looking at the bottle of pills now, the instructions take with food served as a jigsaw piece he didn’t want. The puzzle was coming together and he didn’t like the picture it formed.

How had Priscilla Kimbley gotten hold of Shego’s medication anyway? Were they working together, conspiring against him? No, of course not. Shego clearly had a beef with the woman, and she reminded him at every opportunity.

He’d very much like to believe Miss Kimbley was pulling his leg, but evidence pointed to Shego’s use of the mysterious medication. He shook the bottle around again and counted carefully – recounting at least two more times for good measure. There were a few missing. So what? That was proof of nothing. That Kimbley woman could have easily stolen a few. And if Kimbley had stolen them from Shego, then she would be missing them.

As Drakken was battling to convince himself that his companion wasn’t taking some strange chill pill provided by Global Justice, soft footsteps descending the staircase made him jump.

It was only Shego, in her googly-eyed owl pajamas and soft green slippers – not the sight one would expect in a lair of all places, but regrettably a sight for sore eyes nonetheless. Her hair was still damp, and her voice was a little on the hoarse side when she croaked, “Hey,” in greeting.

Drakken didn’t realize how fast he could move until he’d stuffed the bottle in his pocket and come to stand beside her. “Are you ready for that movie now?” he blurted, though he wasn’t eager to watch it himself, if he was being honest. Somehow it felt like an appropriate change of subject.

She sniffed, nose stuffy, and gave a weak smile. “I’unno,” she said with an effort at dry wit, “are you ready to be cute and cuddly?”

His legs felt weak and his heart thrummed meekly against his ribs. He wasn’t cuddle material nor did he strive to be cute, yet the prospect she might think so gave him an itch to try it out anyway. “I-I’m—let’s not get ahead of yourselves,” he stammered with a nervous smile.

She reached out for his arm, fingers curling delicately into his sleeve. She didn’t inadvertently burn him when she touched him this time, though by the look of concentration skewing her face, she was trying hard not to. “You wanted to show me something?”

In that moment, he tried to forget just how nice she smelled fresh out of the shower, and tried to think of how lovely the orchid did instead. And then he sharply reprimanded himself – because giving the orchid a whiff when his nerves were high would only heighten them, and he didn’t need any mood enhancers, for good or for bad, at a time like this. Neither did Shego, for that matter, but he turned back for his desk and the biosphere anyway.

“Now, it’s not for keeps,” he warned, gesturing to his desk and the flower on it. “But it looks nice, no? Y-you probably shouldn’t sniff it. It has strong effects on the brain. Amplifies – uhm – maybe when you’re in a better mood.” The blossom was largely unstudied, but by what he had gathered, the potent flower could act as ecstasy or it could plunge a person into depression, and cause any number of wild mood swings depending on the circumstances.

He went on to explain the exotic pink blossom to her, the lengths he’d gone to cultivate it, and its potential – but she looked bored the entire time his mouth was moving. Maybe that Priscilla woman was right, he considered, disheartened as he set the biosphere aside. Shego really didn’t seem all that impressed by flowers, even flowers as difficult to grow as genetically-modified orchids in climate-controlled biospheres. He made a mental note to find some she did like – and corrected himself that it was only to prove Shego’s indifference wasn’t withstanding among all flowers. No one hated flowers that much, except maybe the odd villain or two who utterly despised healthy ecosystems.

Shego pulled at his sleeve. “Okay,” she said, sounding bored to death. “You like gardening. Great. Can we go back upstairs and play pretend now?” She seemed more stable now, at least.

Drakken couldn’t help a sigh. “Do I have to pretend to be cute and cuddly?” The idea still had him uncertain. Especially the idea of cuddling – a possibility seeming realer by the moment, and with her no less – well, it made his insides do a nervous jig. There were more productive ways to spend his time, and yet he was compelled to bend to her will.

She flashed an impish smile. “You don’t have to pretend.”

“Good.”

“Because you already are, flower boy.” She turned away then with a small laugh at his grunt of indignation.

Despite what should have been an offence to his villainous ego, he followed her back up the stairs. His smile on her back faded though, and he reached almost involuntarily for his pocket and the pills in it. Pills prescribed by Global Justice.

Keeping his eyes up, he studied the back of her head, eyes inadvertently drawn to something that stood out against the sheet of black. Maybe he just hadn’t walked close enough behind her to see them before. There wasn’t much to see there on the back of her head – except, of course, a grey hair or two he hadn’t noticed until now with her hair damp and sticking flat around her shoulders.

Following Shego back to his quarters, Drakken tried not to stare too hard. She seemed too young for grey hair, but he was mindful enough to keep the thought to himself. She wasn’t older than she said she was, was she? No, of course not. He’d first met her as an awkward teenager – well, technically she still was a teenager – but it was only four years ago or so that he’d first encountered her. She’d been in rough shape, but thinking back, she’d still been very much a kid then. He hadn’t been in the best shape himself either, and he’d been in even worse shape when he’d ditched her at that lonely rest stop in the middle of nowhere.

Something about that fateful day echoed at the far reaches of his mind, just out of his grasp. Something about Subject B.

Drakken mulled it over as he made a fresh batch of popcorn while Shego sheepishly swept up the mess she’d made earlier.

It wasn’t until she was sitting on his couch, awaiting his return with the bowl, did it finally resound clearly in his head and out of his mouth. “Subject B is liable to break down in a matter of years,” he muttered incredulously to himself, staring down at the grey strands standing boldly against her unnaturally iridescent raven locks.

The thought of cellular damage crossed his mind. If her body hadn’t adapted to her alien power, the plasmic fire would have destroyed her years ago as surely as it would have anyone else’s who came in contact. Thankfully the first round of researchers had clearly been wrong about her – try as she might, Subject B hadn’t destroyed herself during the metamorphosis – but that didn’t mean they were entirely wrong, either. Without a so-called chill pill to suppress the flame, was she still at risk of hurting herself? Had Global Justice been doing her a favor by regulating her alien glow in some way?

Shego glanced back at him innocently, tearing her eyes off her movie. “What was that?” he barely heard her ask.

“Nothing,” he answered quickly, sitting down awkwardly on the far end of the couch, the bowl of popcorn set on the one cushion between them.

He tried to face the movie and eat popcorn one puff at a time from the palm of his hand while his companion snacked by the handful. He didn’t make it long before his eyes slid across to her, the thoughts still wreaking havoc in his head.

She caught him staring. “What?”

“Nothing,” he blurted, gaze snapping away briefly. “Um. Actually.” He was sitting on the pill bottle in his back pocket. He shifted, but it didn’t make his rear feel any better. Unabashedly studying the woman in her pajamas now, the question “Are you on any special medication?” escaped his trap.

Shego quirked her brow at him, suspicion fleeting on her face, but she laughed awkwardly. She took a guess, “Like…what? Birth control?”

He had to dismiss that one the best he could, awkwardly scratching at his neck. “Ah, no. That probably couldn’t hurt, but no, I mean – what I’m asking is – I’m just wondering if you’re taking anything. That’s all.” He swallowed and waited.

She dropped the wry playful act, her glare hardening on him. “No,” she denied, though he could hear the lie laced in her tone alone. “What makes you think that?” She needed to work on her deception skills.

“Nothing. Nothing, just…” Drakken blurted, realizing he was just as bad. His own pulse thundered in his ears. If Shego had put Priscilla up to giving him the pills, she’d be expecting him to come clean, wouldn’t she? And if she hadn’t, she’d have to expect him to return the stolen item. And if they were stolen, and if she was on medication, then maybe she needed them. “Well, actually, you said something the other night. And I just thought, if they help…maybe you’d want these back. I believe these are yours.” Swallowing doubt and anxiety and anything else, Drakken fished out the bottle from his back pocket and held his hand outstretched, bottle in his palm for her to take.

Shego’s eyes locked on the bottle. She reached for it but withdrew her hand just as quickly, wringing her fingers. “No, thanks. I don’t need that shit,” she spat – only to change her mind in the next instant. Before he could argue it or retract the offer to return the medication, she snatched up the bottle and jumped to her feet.

“It might be for your own good, Shego,” he called, leaping up to follow her to the kitchen. Her hands were emitting green cinders as she fought with the child-proof lid. He smelled melting plastic. She was heaving for breath. She was angry. What was she so angry about? It was a damn good thing he hadn’t let her sniff the flower.

“Fuck off!” she shouted vehemently, chucking the bottle with full force in the general vicinity of his sink. The half-melted bottle shattered, little white pills scattering. Before the pills had even stopped bouncing, she scrambled forward to collect him, cursing to herself. “Whose side are you on anyway?” she snapped back at him, voice cracking, as he approached the kitchen island.

“Yours!” Drakken blurted in reflex. “I mean – I thought – I thought you were on mine, is what I mean. And if they help you, maybe you should—”

“No,” she spat. She was trembling, throwing every pill she found into the sink under the running tap. She slammed cabinet doors to find the switch for the garbage disposal. “No, no, no,” she repeated to herself, to every pill she disposed of. He heard her counting them under her breath.

Once the distraught superhuman was sure that every tiny pill had been thoroughly destroyed and washed down the drain, she hovered over his sink, shaking her head as she ran her glowing hands beneath the steaming stream of water while the garbage disposal snarled tirelessly.

Drakken was quiet for a long moment, standing cautiously on the other side of the kitchen island though he knew he wasn’t out of the danger zone. Once her tremors had subsided somewhat and the steam had stopped billowing, he crept forward, daring to stand beside her and shut off the faucet. When he reached for her shoulder, he was just about zapped by the energy radiating unseen from her body.

Despite the shimmer of unchecked green glow glistening over her skin, Shego turned sharply toward him, her face thudding into his chest and arms constricting around him, squeezing the breath out of him in a bear hug comparable to his mother’s. The only difference was Shego was not his mother, and her body burned like a furnace against him, namely her hands digging into his back. He winced. The plasma burns eating holes in his shirt would need lotion later.

Bearing it, Drakken squeezed his eyes shut, choosing not to look so closely at her grey hairs, evidence she might very well be breaking down in some way. She was certainly breaking down on an emotional level, anyway. Cute and cuddly, he reminded himself as he gingerly held her by the shoulders, desperately hoping to channel whatever cute and cuddly part of him she’d been hoping for tonight even if it wasn’t his normal.

He knew the third degree was coming when his companion went rigid and roughly shoved him back, an accusatory glare written across her face. Drakken didn’t wait for her to demand answers before opening his big mouth to spill the beans.

[promiscuous-jalapeno]

Happy Blogiversary! I'm grateful for all the content you've shared with us! And thank you for being here ♥️ If you're still taking requests, I'd like to ask for Silence - a fable or The Man of the Crowd (from the poe prompts) for Jinpachi from SLBP. Feel free to skip this if you don't want to do it, but thank you very much if you do :) Have a great day!

Thank you so much, dear! (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡ I would be more than happy to! Jinpachi is a fav I love him so much! Also, this really got away from me omg. This is not a drabble, it turned into a one-shot haha. 

────────────────

{Nezu Jinpachi}

│The Man of the Crowd│following, curiosity, fascination

────────────────

     It had only been a bit of harmless self-indulgence. That’s what he had told himself. Yet he knew indulgences, albeit even harmless ones, were not suited to shinobi. Jinpachi was unaccustomed to acting of his own accord as he had oft of late, and even in the slivers of downtime, he couldn’t come up with plausible reasoning behind his actions. Aside from the obvious–he had, for the first time, been captivated. 

     She had twisted her ankle in town when first they met, a heavy basket of daikon and various vegetables toppling into the street. He had gotten her permission before wrapping the delicate thing in a strip of white cloth. And her hand was so small as it slid into his for support. Soft. Is this what a woman’s hand feels like?  Later, he’d ponder if perhaps only hers could feel that way against his skin. 

     “Thank you, I’m sorry to trouble you,” she apologized, and Jinpachi had not missed the wince as she stood. Nor the way the sun’s rays illuminated her face as she looked up to him with a smile. It made his heart knot in his throat. 

     But he was an expert at hiding even this. He was practiced. He was calm. The unreadable expression so many had deemed aloof would come at his benefit, after all. 

     “It’s nothing. But can you walk?” 

     “My restaurant isn’t far from here, I can manage,” she hobbled. 

     Jinpachi’s face pulled from stoic to troubled frown. “If it’s not far, then allow me to assist you.” 

     “I couldn’t possi-” 

     “Forgive me,” Jinpachi interjected. He had already extracted the basket from her grasp and was now wrapping an arm around her waist in support. 

     He couldn’t help but notice the beautiful blush on her face when they finally made it inside the establishment, and she had a hard time making eye contact after he placed her at a vacant table. Had he done something uncouth? 

     He had only touched her enough to be of help, he frowned pensively. Yet she continued to stumble over her words. The more she attempted to conceal her flushed face the more desperate he grew to see it. It’s not as if he had never seen a woman’s blush before, however. Women fell over themselves for a chance to blush at his Lord. But this…this was different. She was different. Somehow. 

     Despite his protests for her rest, she cooked for him in gratitude. And when he ate at his usual rapid pace she laughed. Oh, heaven. She laughed! And the sound sent him choking on a mouthful of rice. 

     “I’m sorry,” she finished laughing. The melody faded into her light pants like the sound of rustling leaves carried off on autumn wind. “That was rude of me, wasn’t it.” 

     “No, I’m…often told my eating habits are strange.” Among other things, he thought, shifting his gaze uncomfortably. No matter how many times he’d heard the remarks about his peculiar stoicism or the speed at which he ate, there was simply no changing the habits of one such as a shinobi. That did not, however, make him less self-conscious in the present moment. 

     “I’m not laughing because I think it’s strange,” she corrected. “I laughed because, in a shocked sort of way, it made me happy.” 

     Happy? Now who was the strange one, he thought. This was the first time anyone had regarded him with normalcy. Aside from Nobuyuki, that is. But Nobuyuki was far from normal, himself. The confusion must have registered on his face, and she explained while pouring more tea. 

     “You ever feel like you were just born to do something?” 

     Yes. He gave a nod.

     “Well, that’s cooking for me. My father left this restaurant before he died. I guess in that sense, I would have ended up a cook either way, but…I’m lucky to love what I do every day. Seeing people enjoy my food like you just did, well, it gives me great pride. So yeah, I was happy to see you eat so quickly.” 

     “Is that so…I’m sorry about your father.” 

     “It’s alright,” she sighed wistfully, “his memory lives on in the recipes, at least. Would you like some more?” 

     Yes. He gave a nod.

──────

     That night he couldn’t forget her. What if she fell in town again? Trouble always seemed to follow women as kind as she. And what’s more, the whole reason they had come to Kyoto was to track thieves fleeing Sanada lands. What if she had been accosted while mindlessly thinking about recipes? 

     What if they happened upon her restaurant and caused trouble? The blame would be his, in his failure to apprehend. Yes, he had a duty. Yes, he decided. Maybe he had better check on her once more. 

     Out of sight, he watched her day. Her early morning service prep and the elegant way she tied her sleeves back, hands of grace chopping vegetables into uniform bits while she hummed to herself. 

     He watched her the day after. And the day after that. 

     The way she lit up the town when out went shopping for ingredients. Jinpachi couldn’t help but smile at the charming way she held up each bit of produce for inspection. She was a curious one, indeed. He didn’t know what she was looking for. 

     She’d sniff and poke and weigh two against each other in her hands, quirking an eyebrow with pensive concentration. He couldn’t understand what drove her to care at such lengths over a simple onion or radish, but oddly enough, that made it all the more endearing to watch. 

     He felt a twinge in his chest when a young grocer stepped a little too close to her one afternoon. 

     “A discount again? But there’s nothing wrong with these…I couldn’t accept, I’d feel like I was taking advantage of you,” she kindly protested.

     “Don’t be silly! Look, I’m stopping by your restaurant after I close up shop here. If you’re still feeling guilty you can always treat me to some sake, on the house,” he grinned. “Even better if you decide to share it with me.” 

     This guy…there was no mistaking that tone and what he was implying. Jinpachi’s lips pressed into a thin line…Using a favor as leverage against her. He wanted to tell him as much, but meddling was never his forte. 

     Besides, what if she was actually interested in his company? The thought turned his stomach. Still, such an underhanded tactic…he waited until she left and settled for hurling a hearty pebble at his head. Cocky smile growing on his face when the man yelped, rubbing the wound and looking up at the sky in confusion. 

     And the man did show up that evening as promised, but she paid him no more mind than any other customer. She smiled as she did for everyone else. She poured only when necessary. And though his eyes were trained on her, she seemed fixated on stealing glances at the door. 

──────

     Her path to and from shopping had a few rough spots. Thieves and gamblers and drunks loitering around. The usual. Too dangerous to be left alone, surely. But nothing he could not handle in a day. Those that couldn’t be verbally threatened away were subdued so easily he hadn’t the need to use weapons at all. 

     “You’re back awfully fast!” he heard her mother exclaim. 

     “It’s the craziest thing,” she huffed, placing the heavy produce on the counter before throwing her hands on her hips, “all of the shortcuts home have been practically empty lately.” 

      “Now that you mention, the crime around here seems to have gone down. I wonder what’s going on?” 

     “I don’t know, but whatever it is I hope it stays this way,” she laughed. 

     Jinpachi smiled. 

──────

     When visiting her father’s grave she was surprised to see a bundle of fresh vibrant flowers already placed. Curiously she picked them up to examine them, looking around for a sign of anyone else on the lonesome hill. The only answer a silent swift breeze. 

──────

     The day he saw her eyeing a peach a little too long, he couldn’t resist buying it. Finding a way to slip near her in the crowd and toss it at the top of her basket. The surprised noise she made when she arrived home and discovered it was gift enough for him. And the pleasured ‘Mmm’ she made when she bit into the juicy thing, even more so. She looked around curiously, clutching it between her palms like a treasure. 

──────

     It was best this way. He was comfortable in this. Ever the invisible hand from the shadows. He needn’t glory nor recognition for his deeds, these small moments were enough. But it never occurred to him that he might simply be frightened at the idea of anything else. 

     Not until this night, when she had closed up and sat alone, her family all gone to sleep. A single bright lantern and her gaze fixed at the door. He wondered what she was thinking, her cheek resting in her palm as she sighed. Maybe she was having trouble sleeping. Or was she was ill?  He hoped she wasn’t. 

     But then he watched her reach into her sleeve and retrieve something in a balled fist. He wasn’t thinking anything, then. Time slowed. Finger by dainty finger she unfurled. Eyes trained down she untangled a familiar white strip of cloth with care. 

     He was thinking everything, then. 

     Eyes wide and heart racing he left as fast as he could manage. It couldn’t be. He’d imagined it. Surely, he did. It was something else. It didn’t matter, either way...he wasn’t staying in Kyoto. 

     “You’re rather late again.” Nobuyuki’s brush stilled before he placed it on the writing desk. His face was illuminated by dancing lantern light. 

     “Forgive me,” was all Jinpachi replied. He had been concentrating on the evening of his breath. Shutting the shoji behind him, he quietly took a seat against the wall. If he spoke now, Nobuyuki would surely catch on that something was amiss. He was far too clever for anyone’s good.  

     “Jinpachi.” 

     Oh no. “Yes, My Lord.” He knew that tone. 

     “Who is she?” 

     Oh no…How? “She?” 

     Nobuyuki smiled. “Your thoughts are preoccupied, you arrive late almost every evening. And you apprehended the bandits days ago…or did you think I would not find out?” 

     “I…” It was not as if he was purposefully hiding that fact. Though, he had told himself he might have missed one somewhere. That one had gotten away. That they needed to stay a little longer, to be sure. Absolutely sure. Perhaps it was all just a selfish excuse after all. Suddenly, he felt terrible. 

     “Come now,” Nobuyuki laughed lightly, shrugging it off, “no need to look like a child caught sneaking sweets. I was beginning to think I’d never get to see this side of you, old friend.” His face fell into a more serious expression, and he picked up the brush once more. Making one last point before turning back to his work. “But we depart for Ueda in two days’ time. I trust you know what I mean by that.” 

     Yes. He nodded. “By your will.” 

──────

     If she did not remember him, it would be just as well. And why would she? He was quiet and near impossible to understand. They had only met once. If he walked in and she gave him the usual empty courtesies, he would drink he tea and leave quietly. 

     Had what he seen the night before truly been a mirage built from exhaustion and buried hopes, that would be alright. But if she did remember him, then maybe…No. It was not likely. 

     The town was painted in scarlet when he finally had the restaurant in his sights. He’d faced death countless times over. He’d been surrounded by enemies, sword to sword with foe’s in battle, yet nothing gave his heart chase like parting that noren and stepping inside the mouth of fate. 

     “Jinpachi!” she beamed immediately. The face he had grown to love cheerily peeked out from the back room. He could swear she practically skipped to him from the kitchen. “I was…hoping I’d see you again.” 

[urflowersdied]

junebug

Long time no see! I’ve had a really rough past few months regarding finding the motivation and creativity to write, but I’ve been really wanting to get back into it. I wrote this piece in January of last year - 2019 - but left it to rot in my Google Drive... It’s not the best piece of writing, I’d say, but I feel the need to just put it up so that I hopefully can move on and post a more recent piece of writing soon-ish. Quarantine is boring me to the brink. Hope you’re all well and can get some enjoyment out of this! x

He had never cared for an animal on his own before, but Harry was convinced that every pet owner gained some sort of extrasensory perception - or rather, a sixth sense - upon deciding to house a little creature. With previous family cats, or even the hamster that his sister had convinced their parents to adopt when he was about 4 years old, his mother had handled all of the arising problems herself, usually trying to keep her children out of the sad aspects of living with a pet. Therefore, 23-year-old Harry didn’t have any pre-existing experience with spotting illness in animals, yet when he woke up one morning and saw Juniper - his little Jack Russell Terrier - not already impatiently sitting by her bowl, tail wagging about, that he sensed something was... off.

Now, two days later and Juniper still refusing to move about more than absolutely necessary (usually she would join him on his morning runs, zoom around his apartment after tennis balls and properly beg him to take her on another walk when he got in from lectures and classes), an immensely worried Harry knew he had to take action. The only issue was that veterinarian visits weren’t exactly easily affordable on a student budget. Sure, he could always contact his mother and request a little support, but he was well aware of her current financial situation and had previously made the decision to help her out rather than ask for money.

It seemed as though the stars aligned for him when he brought up his struggles to Adam, who often spared him an ear to let him vent about various issues. He had been Harry’s friend ever since they found themselves seated next to each other in the introductory lecture to their Psychology degree. In their two and a half years of friendship Adam had offered lots of (sometimes unsolicited) advice to Harry, which had rarely been useful. But this time around, Adam’s proposition might have the actual potential of leading towards a useful solution for his problem.

“Do you remember that girl David used to date? I think…. Emelie? Erica? Can’t really remember. Anyways, one time at pre-drinks I got into conversation with her - wanted to know who was silly enough to go out with that git. She told me she was studying to become a vet! Can you believe? She seemed really smart so I don’t really know what she was doing with… Not that important, actually. Few weeks later Sarah’s cat wasn’t feeling great and apparently she came by to do a check-up for free. Think I’d be able to get you her number if you wanna give that a shot!”

So here he was, stood in his kitchen at 7 am, waiting for this vet student to reply to the text message he’d sent her. Turns out Adam got the name wrong during their conversation and apparently she was actually called Emma, but that wasn’t really of any importance to him. What was important, instead, was that she would get back to Harry as quickly as possible. He was eyeing his little pup nervously, having just spent an exhausting night alongside her, and even though he knew it wasn’t really proper etiquette to contact someone before at least 8 in the morning, he really couldn’t help himself. Hopefully this Emma would be able to fulfill the high praises Adam, and upon inquiry their friend Sarah as well, had sung about her.

It seemed as though she was off to a good start, because no more than 10 minutes later he was alerted of a new text message through the bell-noise of his phone. Harry had been crouched next to Juniper, who seemed to currently prefer residing in the dog bed he had placed in the living room, but quickly shot up and slid towards the device on the kitchen counter.

“Hello Harry! Yes, this is Emma! I could come by and take a look at your pup after classes, which would be around 5. Would that work for you? I don’t want to promise that I’ll be able to do much, but I can definitely tell you what other steps you should take. Send me your address and let me know if that time works for you! x Emma”

_______________________________________________

The light succession of knocks on his front door startled Harry. He had gotten in about an hour ago, after attending two lectures which he hadn’t completely focused on. While waiting for who he was hoping he would dub “saviour” by the end of her visit Harry had busied himself with cleaning the place up and doting on his poor doggo.

As he pulled the door open, some information lodged itself into place in his head. How could he have not made the link before? She had attended some pre-drinks and various night out’s on the arm of David, a tosser that was - sadly, really - the roommate of one of Harry’s better friends. He had never been fond of David, but remembers the moment distinctly in which he had laid eyes upon this girl now standing in front of him.

Remembers how his heart had beaten a little faster, because she truly looked like the sweetest girl around. Remembers how she had shot everyone the kindest smile as she was being introduced. Remembers how he had been convinced she must be mad and incredibly naive, for he knew no other reason why she would hang around his asshole acquaintance.

“Oh, hi! I figured it was you, but wasn’t entirely sure!” Her voice pulled Harry out of his little daydream. He felt a little taken aback, but reciprocated her enthusiastic smile and tone of voice while greeting her.

“Hey! What a surprise, didn’t know you were studying to be a vet. Thank you for stopping by, Emma.”

She toed off her shoes, discarded her winter jacket on the coat rack by the door and turned back towards him. He pretended to not notice the small once-over she gave him, for the sake of not making her uncomfortable before she just did him and his dog a huge favour. “So, where’s your pup? Juniper, is it?” Harry immediately led her towards the living room. Upon catching sight of the miserable looking animal, Emma, seemingly not being able to hold back, let out a tiny coo and immediately moved towards her.

“I’m honestly not really sure what happened. One day she was fine, coming on runs with me and going ballistic in the flat and then the next she was barely able to get up. I’ve never really cared for a dog myself before so I didn’t really know if she was just in a mood or hurt, but her situation didn’t really improve so…” Harry trailed off, keeping his eyes fixed on his dog as Emma lowered herself to the ground. The extreme amount of nervous energy coursing through his body almost made him want to chuckle. If this was how badly an ill dog affected him, how would he be able to deal with his own children in the future?

Hovering a hand over the dog’s head, Emma addressed Harry. “Are you alright with me touching her?” The young man hummed in agreement, willing to do just about everything at this point. “As I already mentioned in my text, I can’t really promise I’m gonna be able to help. I also just wanna let you know that I’ve obviously not finished my degree yet, so I’m not a legit veterinary yet. So I really need you to be aware of that. I won’t do anything that I’m not one hundred percent sure of, but I can definitely give you an assessment of her situation, at the very least.”

Harry was aware of this. It was also the information that his friend Sarah had given him. Emma was still at university, therefore not a licensed vet yet, but apparently extremely careful and trustworthy. And because taking at least a look at some other student’s sick animals was a great way to put all her training into practice, she did these sort of check ups for free. He appreciated Emma’s reiteration of this disclaimer though, and immediately let her know that he was alright with the situation.

And to be honest, had he not previously been made aware that she was still in the process of getting her degree, he probably would not have noticed any difference between her and the fully fledged veterinarian that had come round to his mother’s house a few times when he was younger. Emma had an extremely calm aura surrounding her, which put Juniper - who had been jittery every time Harry approached her - at ease quite quickly.

The next few moments introduced a concentrated silence to Harry’s living room. He didn’t quite know what to do with himself as her hands softly reached out towards different parts of Juniper’s little body, so he started gnawing on his lips and continuously shifting his weight from one leg onto the other and back. This seemed to amuse the girl on his living room floor, because she took a second to let her gaze move from the intense focus on the animal towards its agitated owner. “How about you sit down on the couch? Think you being stationary might help calm the pup down a little bit.”

So that’s what Harry did. Took a seat on the cushioning and waited for any potential questions he knew she was bound to ask him. When Emma spoke up after a few more moments, the questions she asked seemed pretty standard to him. How old was Juniper? What did she weigh? How often would he usually take her out on a walk? Did she still eat like usually? What was her behaviour like when she wasn’t feeling poorly? He answered every question she posed to the best of his abilities, but couldn’t really help and inquire himself after a while: “What do you reckon is the problem, then?”

She gracefully angled her body towards Harry’s sitting form. That was something he had been noticing the entire time she had conducted the little examination - Emma exuded grace and tranquility. She had only directed the most delicate of touches and softest words towards Juniper, and even though she had not made any sort of body contact with Harry, he had also felt immensely soothed simply by her presence. He wondered if that was just her natural demeanor or a way of handling herself she had acquired during her veterinary training. “From what you’ve been telling me about her being really energetic and playful usually, just like any Jack Russell Terrier really, I’d say it’s very likely she had some zoomies and hurt herself during. Looks and feels to me like there’s a little issue in the back of her vertebrae.”

Emma’s explanation made a lot of sense to Harry. Juniper was a very lively dog and often had little bursts of energy that she released by dashing in and out of every room in his small flat, jumping on various pieces of furniture and gliding around the wooden floors. It was likely that she had been a little overzealous and one point and gotten herself hurt without him noticing, even though that made him feel a little inadequate as a pet owner. “And… so… what happens now?”

With a few light pats on the top of Juniper’s head Emma parted from the animal and got back on her feet. “Well… Gotta be honest here, I don’t feel comfortable doing an osteopathic procedure on my own because I haven’t really mastered that training yet, but you’re in luck.” Harry motioned for her to follow him and the two of them stepped into the kitchen. He wanted to let his dog rest a little bit, and because he was sure animals understood the human language more than they let on, he located their conversation about her health to another room. “My dad’s got an animal osteopathy clinic up in Manchester. He’s supposed to be coming down to London for dinner tomorrow anyway, so if I butter him up well enough he’d probably be happy to take a detour before that and do a little session on Juniper.” After taking a little glance at Harry’s increasingly worried face - because he hadn’t ever really been aware that there were osteopaths specialised in animal care and also would any of this this hurt his pup even more? - Emma quickly added: “And don’t worry about paying him. He owes me a favour for helping out in the clinic for free during busy weekends.”

Harry hadn’t planned to tear up, he really hadn’t. Such a reaction wasn’t usually in the cards for him - sure, compared to his friends he was quite the emotional fella, but he was studying to be a psychologist and usually had his wits about him - but the gratitude he felt towards this tiny helper, who had just randomly appeared in his and his dog’s life, was indescribable. Here stood this gentle young woman, who had made time in her probably super busy and hectic student schedule to take a closer look at his dog because he struggled to afford a real vet visit, and who had miraculously calmed Juniper, who had been nervous and in pain, down seemingly by just entering the building, and now she was offering him her dad’s osteopathic services, also free of charge? How could he possibly hold it together in the face of such kindness?

Apparently, his depiction of emotion was a little surprising to Emma. With widened eyes she observed as he tried to get a grip, seemingly not really knowing how to approach this man who she had only spoken to a couple of brief times.”Sorry, sorry. That’s… Yeah, that’d be amazing. I’ve just been really stressed about this and you’re being really nice and just… thank you, really. Sorry.” Harry shot her an appreciative smile while willing the moisture in his eyes to subside quicker.

Catching a glimpse of the digital clock on his microwave, Emma let out a surprised noise and made a move towards the front door. “You’re alright, don’t worry about it. I’ll text you early tomorrow to figure out what time would be good for you, yeah? I’ve got to dash now, though. Got a paper to finish for this class of mine”, she said as she tucked her feet back into the black boots she had entered his flat in.

The last thing she said to Harry as they parted ways for the night made his cheeks light up with a rosy glow. Because he really had tried to clean his living space up well enough before she arrived earlier, wanting to seem put-together and rational for this (as he then had believed) stranger. It seemed as though he either hadn’t done a good enough job or Emma had, in addition to all of her other attributes he had taken notice of, a keen eye for observations. “Oh yeah, I think it’s super endearing that you’re willing to sleep on your couch to make her more comfortable. You seem like a great owner, don’t stress about it.”

________________________________________________

The shrieking laughter of his friends still reached Harry, even as he distanced himself from them and closed the door that connected Adam’s living room to his kitchen. He hadn’t really been in the mood to get hammered tonight, much less to make an appearance at some random bloke’s birthday party, but here he stood anyways. Already empty wine glass in his left hand, waiting for everyone’s intoxication levels to rise so that they could make their way out. The sooner Harry and his mates got to that celebration, the sooner it would be acceptable for him to duck out and return to the safe, warm, and especially calm confines of his flat.

Harry really didn’t pay attention to his surroundings as he was scavenging various shelves for the bottle of wine Adam had shooed him off of the comfortable armchair for. Adam was always a keen but awful host. He didn’t have any quarrels about their group of friends hanging out at his little apartment, but would make everyone else in attendance tend to any arising hosting duties - like sticking your head into the deep unknown of his cluttered cupboards to locate a new bottle of red. When a charming giggle erupted from behind him, a startled Harry turned around immediately. As his gaze fell upon his current favorite person in the world - yes, he was aware that he had a knack for dramatising - the alarmed heartbeat in his chest declined towards a way slower thud. “Don’t scare me like that.” He raised his hand to his chest theatrically in an attempt to garner a repeat of that wonderfully melodic giggle, and succeeded. After a few short seconds of exchanging glances and smiles, a thought crossed his mind: “Not to sound rude, but what are you doing here?”

Emma took a step closer to him and grabbed one of the long-stemmed wine glasses that had been placed on the kitchen counter by Sarah earlier in the evening. “Honestly, not completely sure. Adam - he’s your friend, right? - texted me out of the blue and so did Sarah. Said that even though I’m, and I quote, ‘thankfully’ not seeing David anymore I’m still invited to hang out with the gang so… Here I am, I guess.” The bright smile which appeared on her face was almost enough to lessen the annoyance rising up Harry’s throat. Almost.

No matter how hard he tried to keep mum, the endeared exclamations about his new acquaintance just broke past the barrier his lips had tried to keep aloft. Sitting in another early morning lecture, Adam had asked how the meeting with “little miss doctor” had gone - because of course that nosy shit was going to pester him about it - and Harry just… erupted. Had entertained his friend’s digs for information and explained how much of a calming effect the vet-in-training had supplied not only to his dog but him as well. How (pleasantly) surprised he had been to learn that he actually kind of knew the woman that appeared by his front door. And Harry didn’t really regret bringing Adam up to speed on that first meeting - he had arranged it, had he not? -, but rather he was embarrassed by his retelling of the following evening.

Emma and her dad had knocked on his door shortly after 6, excuses spilling from the woman’s lips about her class had run late and the older man slightly eyeing up Harry from behind his daughter’s body blocking the doorway. After a few initial moments of awkwardness, which Harry wasn’t really sure of why they had arisen, the trio moved towards Juniper’s sleepy figure, still located in the living room.

While her father went to work on his new patient - and now Harry was aware from whom the girl standing next to him had inherited her vast amount of calmness - Emma turned towards its owner. “She’ll be back to knocking into all your furniture during her zoomies in no time.” And man, had Harry felt assured by these softly spoken words.

During the whole procedure Harry fought a little battle in his mind. He didn’t really know this girl at all, did he? Hadn’t interacted much with Emma other than run-ins with her latched onto David’s arm - he had thought about that relationship quite a lot the previous night and he really could not come to a logical conclusion as to how that had established itself, but he was grateful that she seemed to have seen the light and dumped him a while back - and her visit to his sick dog which had taken place a mere 25 hours back. Yet she had displayed such an openness to him, that he just felt incredibly indebted to her.

He had wanted to repay her in some way, and perhaps selfishly use that opportunity to spend more time in her enchanting presence, but with her father there he could not find the right words to extend her a casual dinner invitation. And exactly this sentiment had Harry really hung up when he described the events of the past two days to Adam. Harry had wanted to ask Emma out, but in the end just couldn’t gather up the courage and he felt his chance had now passed. Juniper felt a lot better and there was no need to seek Emma’s veterinary advice.

Turns out, Harry’s friends weren’t as complacent as him and had decided to take matters into their own hands, inviting her to their get-together not purely out of kindness but also to create another opportunity for their friend to get off his arse and ask the sweet girl out already. And Harry was grateful, for sure, he just wasn’t prepared. He would have appreciated a little head’s up.

As it currently stood though, the evening was shaping itself up to becoming intriguing.

[princess-of-luxure]

Masquerade [2]

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You moved to the capital city, Altadellys, in search of job opportunities. You had anticipated several significant changes in your life, but nothing could have prepared you for almost getting robbed in an alley, only to be saved by a mysterious masked vigilante. Their mysterious appearance throws your life into chaos, and you soon find yourself swept up in the high-stakes underground operations of a group of… supervillains?!

You didn’t ask for any of this, but there’s just as much excitement amongst the potentially lethal drama. As secrets hundreds of years olds begin to unfold before you, can you be the missing link in solving a dangerous mystery, or will you bring everything to ruin?

Fandom: Reigning Passions (Visual Novel) Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Relationships: Gen (so far) Characters: Lyris (Reigning Passions), Main Character (Reigning Passions), Sevastian (Reigning Passions), Piama (Reigning Passions), Hazel (Reigning Passions) Content Warnings: None

Thank you everyone for voting on the last chapter! I got more votes than expected and even now I'm still getting new fans. I'm pleased to announce that choice b (Stay to try and diffuse the situation with Lyris and Piama, and hopefully get some answers) has won the vote! Hoping you enjoy this chapter.

As per usual, you can cast your vote on the end-of-chapter choice in a comment on AO3 here, or by sending me a DM or ask here on tumblr! You can also cast your vote by replying to the appropriate chapter, or by putting it in the tags of a reblog.

Chapter below the read more.

Guilt ached in your gut as you nibbled on your lower lip. It didn’t exactly feel good to blow Hazel off, but she was your best friend. It couldn’t be that difficult to reschedule, and besides, you couldn’t imagine the anxiety that would weigh on your shoulders if you didn’t discuss the hey-I’m-pretty-sure-you’re-a-masked-vigilante thing with Lyris while you had the chance. Decision made, you tried to steady your shaking hands as you typed out a reply.

You: I’m so so sorry

You: Something came up

You: Can we reschedule?

You didn’t wait for Hazel’s reply before tucking your phone back into your pocket, taking a deep breath as you assessed the situation. Lyris had mostly managed to mask his shock by now, though the intensity of his gaze on you still sent shivers down your spine. Not that you minded having a gorgeous guy’s attention, this just wasn’t exactly what you had pictured. Add the fact that Piama was still looking between the two of you with raised eyebrows, evidently waiting for an explanation, and this was starting to look like a social nightmare.

Okay, focus. You can’t spill his secret—even if you don’t have confirmation of it yet. Mustering up all your courage, you gave Lyris your friendliest smile. “Wow, fancy meeting you here!” Please go with it, please go with it, please go with it.

You could see the exact moment he snapped into the role, his charming smile overtaking his features. If you weren’t so busy trying to play off the whole situation as nothing to Piama, you would’ve probably had a bi panic. “A lovely coincidence indeed, my lady. It seems as though fate wished for us to meet.”

You stole a glance at Piama out of the corner of your eye. She still seemed surprised, but for different reasons now. “You know her, Lyris?” she asked skeptically.

“I had the pleasure of running into her earlier,” he replied smoothly, and okay, that part was technically the truth. Still, his mismatched eyes didn’t leave yours, and you had to remind yourself that the way he looked at you, like you were a jewel more precious than any known to man, was just part of his act. “I’m afraid I never got to introduce myself, however. If the lady would allow, I shall now rectify this error.”

He stepped closer to you, and you desperately fought back the blush that threatened to crawl up your cheeks. Slowly, deliberately, he bowed to you, just as he had under the guise of Peacock. “I am Lyris Rosi.” He gently caught your hand in his, raising it to his lips and brushing a feather-light kiss there.

You were pretty sure that the kiss had completely killed your last few brain cells because you found yourself stammering out your name despite the fact he already knew it. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to mind, releasing your hand and rising, still with that brilliant smile on his face. Plus, I guess it’s believability points for Piama. “A beautiful name for a beautiful maiden,” he complimented, and despite having heard it from him before, it still sent a jolt of lightheadedness through you. “If you would permit, I would much like to resume our earlier conversation in the privacy of my apartment?”

You heard Piama scoff, shattering the moment. “Inviting a pretty girl to your apartment already, Lyris?” She fixed him with a critical stare. “You better not make this awkward for me.”

Lyris gasped, his expression twisting into a mockery of hurt as he placed a hand to his chest. At least, you were pretty sure he was just acting. Damn, this guy was good. “You wound me, dear Piama. I assure you, my intentions are nothing but pure.”

“And yet you knew exactly what I was referring to with my comment.” Piama huffed, shaking her head before turning her gaze to you. “Do yourself a favour and avoid getting swept up in his charm. Underneath the bravado, he’s a giant nuisance.”

“You must be fond of ‘giant nuisances’ then, to hang around me so much,” Lyris noted, and you could see the familiar glint of a best friend’s teasing in his eyes.

“Hardly. Don’t get a swelled head over it.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m going to make some more tea. You two better behave yourselves.”

She swept from the room, and as soon as you were sure she was out of earshot, you breathed a sigh of relief, shoulders slumping as you released tension you didn’t even know you were holding. “Sorry for putting you on the spot there,” you apologized, forcing yourself to look back at Lyris. “I had no idea you’d be here.” Obviously! You mentally chided yourself for the stupid comment.

Lyris chuckled, and you couldn’t help but notice his smile seemed a touch more genuine. “You handled that very well,” he offered, and you felt your heart skip a beat. “And pay Piama’s words no mind. She seems to have gotten quite the wrong impression about you and I.”

You tilted your head, trying to figure out how he felt about that, but he was completely unreadable. Right, well. If all else fails, resort to humour. “Well, have you given her a reason to believe that before?” you teased.

There it was—the real smile you’d gotten to glimpse earlier in the day. “I suppose there may have been an incident or two in the past,” he admitted lightly, and you found yourself drawn to the playful glimmer in his eyes. “But I believe my intentions with you should be transparent.”

“Yeaaaah.” You rubbed the back of your neck, a sudden sheepishness crawling up your spine. “Look, I’m really sorry about this. I know this must be far from an ideal situation, but—”

Lyris gently raised a hand. Startled, you froze mid sentence. “It isn’t your fault,” he reassured, the melodic tones of his voice compelling you to believe him. “If anything, I should have been more careful.”

The fact that he didn’t seem angry or upset with you washed away most of your lingering anxiety. You offered him a tentative smile, idly brushing your fingers through your hair. “You know, we probably should head to your apartment before Piama comes back.”

“She’d be quite surprised to see us still here after our previous conversation,” Lyris agreed, offering his arm out to you. Your heart leapt into your throat as you scrambled at this opportunity, rushing to link arms with him without tripping over your own two feet.

“So, do you do this with every girl, or am I special?” you attempted to joke as he led you up the stairs. In hindsight, you figured this may have been a mistake, but seeing the slight curve of his lips and almost fond look he gave you, maybe it wasn’t too bad.

“I am a gentleman to all the women I have the pleasure of meeting, but you are special in more ways than one.” You hoped he didn’t notice how you clung to him tighter so as to not fall over at his words. Your brain struggled to come up with a response, but thankfully you were saved by Lyris pausing in front of a door. “Here we are. I’m afraid it isn’t much, but I hope it will be satisfactory.”

He led you inside and your jaw dropped. ‘Not much’ was indisputably an understatement—you knew Spring Apartments was on the higher end of quality housing, but Lyris’s apartment was borderline a penthouse. “How do you afford this place?” you burst out, unable to help yourself, immediately clapping a hand to your mouth as embarrassment colored your cheeks.

Lyris regarded you with an amused look. “That’s for me to know and you to never find out,” he quipped, before gesturing to a couch that may as well have been a piece of cloud for how heavenly it looked. “Take a seat. Would you like something to drink?”

You shook your head, trying to push down your nerves as you sank into the cushions. You were right, it did feel like you were resting upon clouds. “No thanks. I already drank two cups of coffee recently, I wouldn’t want to be bouncing off your walls.” You chuckled at yourself, trying to appear more confident than you felt.

“Of course, I understand,” Lyris hummed, and you couldn’t help but feel disappointed as he settled onto the couch opposite you. “Now as to what brought you here—”

“Mrrrow?” Both you and Lyris turned to look at what was the fluffiest Persian cat you’d ever seen in your life. Their long white fur was immaculately groomed, and their collar was bedazzled with… pink rhinestones. Okay, at this point you were certain Lyris either came from money, or his profession paid extremely well.

“Madame Whiskers, so nice of you to join us,” Lyris greeted, and the cat turned her judgmental stare on him. “That’s right, it’s time for your dinner, isn’t it? How silly of me to forget.”

“Mrrrow!” You didn’t speak cat, but you were pretty sure Madame Whiskers was agreeing, her gaze seeming to pierce right into your host. You noticed she had heterochromia just like her owner, though hers was of the blue and green variety.

Lyris reached down to scratch Madame Whiskers behind the ears as he addressed you. “Forgive me, Madame Whiskers gets quite huffy if she isn’t fed on time.” He bent down, placing a kiss on top of her forehead, and she blinked back at him lazily. “Now play nice with our guest, my precious princess. I’ll be back in just a moment.”

Lyris vanished into one of the neighbouring rooms, leaving you alone with Madame Whiskers. You stared at her—she stared back.

You cleared your throat. Why the hell do I feel so judged by a cat? “Madame Whiskers, was it?”

She just kept on staring. Yeah, okay, that’s my fault for expecting a cat to talk back. “You seem to be a cat of high class,” you commented, awkwardly bowing to her as best you could while sitting down. “Lyris must treat you very well. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Madame Whiskers tilted her head to the side, studying you, before trotting over to jump up next to you on the couch. She then laid down in your lap, staring up at you with a look that could not have more obviously screamed pet me.

Hesitant but not wanting to risk offending her, you slowly began to rub your thumb in circles behind her ears. Soon enough, you began to notice a deep purring coming from Madame Whiskers, and more confident that you were doing the right thing, you began to rub a bit more firmly. Within moments, she was stretched out to her full length, looking completely blissed out.

“Apologies for the wait, I hope Madame Whiskers behaved—” Lyris paused mid sentence as he entered the room. He held a fancy dish of what was most likely expensive cat food in one hand, and a smirk curled across his lips as he took in the situation. “Well, would you look at that. She likes you.”

He placed the dish down. At its gentle clink, Madame Whiskers hopped off your lap and trotted over, daintily nibbling at her food. You, meanwhile, were left trying to process this new information. “She does? Does she not usually like people?”

Lyris chuckled, an amused gleam in his mismatched eyes as he sat back down. “That would be the understatement of the century. She nearly clawed poor Piama half to death when they met.”

You shuddered as you imagined what Madame Whiskers must be like when she’s upset. No wonder Piama had called her the most annoying creature on the planet. “Yeah, I think I can say I’m glad she likes me.”

“I suppose that’s just another way in which you are special.” Your name rolled smoothly off his tongue, and judging by the way he smirked at you when you went rigid with shock, he knew what he was doing to you. Has he known this entire time?!

You cleared your throat, trying desperately to save face. “As much as I’m sure we could chat about your cat for hours, we did come here for a reason.”

“Of course.” Just like that, Lyris’s flirty demeanour evaporated, a far more serious expression falling over him as he leaned forward slightly. It was a jarring change, and you fought not to squirm in place. “If I may ask, what is your understanding of the situation?”

You took a deep breath. Moment of truth. “You’re Peacock. You look exactly like him.” Not to mention acting exactly like him.

Lyris smiled. It wasn’t unkind, but it didn’t reach his eyes. It only took a second to decide you didn’t like it. “You have a good eye. Though as much as I intended to be recognized, you were not the one I was expecting.”

Your head snapped up. “You wanted to be recognized?”

“By a certain someone, yes.” Lyris crossed his arms, regarding you carefully. “Have you heard of Fox?”

One of Hazel’s statements from earlier in the day rung in your mind. After Fox disappeared, he took over as Altadellys’s protector of the night. “Just in passing,” you admitted. “My friend Hazel mentioned them. Were they like you?”

“Somewhat.” You were shocked to see his smile turn fond, real and bright. “He had his own way of going about things, but yes, we had the same ultimate goal.”

Your mind was reeling under the weight of what you’d just learned. Lyris was familiar enough with Fox to speak of him like an old and dear friend? He was hoping to be recognized by Fox? “But my friend said he disappeared,” you said eventually, your thoughts still spinning.

“That’s right. And that’s why I’m Peacock.” The explanation seemed to make perfect sense to Lyris, and yet it clarified absolutely nothing for you.

“I don’t follow,” you admitted, brows furrowing as you tried to put the pieces together. “How did Fox’s disappearance lead to you becoming Peacock?”

Lyris hummed, a thoughtful expression crossing his features. “For the sake of his privacy, let’s just say he’s someone important to me. We fell out of contact years ago, but I still think about him pretty often.” He chuckled. “Nothing could prepare me for seeing him debut in the news as a masked thief, but I was hardly surprised. He’d deny it to his dying breath, but he always had a flair for the dramatic.”

And you don’t? You bit back the comment, preferring to focus on the matter at hand. “I still don’t understand. I get you guys have history, but…”

Lyris raised an amused eyebrow. “Well, of course you’re confused. There’s more to the story.”

You sank back into the couch cushions, feeling your cheeks burn. “Sorry,” you mumbled.

Lyris chuckled, which only served to increase your embarrassment. At least he didn’t seem to think any less of you for it. “You’re cute when you’re flustered. In any case, Fox goes to much further lengths to conceal his identity than I do, but there’s no disguising his powers. I recognized them immediately, but I wasn’t concerned at first. He could take care of himself, and if he needed me, he’d find me. Or at least I hoped so.” There was a flash of sadness in his eyes, gone in an instant. “Then a few months later after his shine into the spotlight, he disappeared. No news about an arrest. Nothing.”

You tilted your head. “If there was no news of an arrest, then isn’t that a good thing?”

Lyris shook his head, giving you an almost pitying look. “You have a lot to learn about Altadellys. Someone disappearing without a trace like that is never a good thing.”

You got the idea he wasn’t trying to be condescending, so you tucked that nugget of information away for later and tried to focus on the matter before you. “So you became Peacock to… look for him?”

“Close.” His mismatched eyes glittered with mischief. “It’s hard to look for someone with no leads. So I thought…” He trailed off, standing and carefully removing his vest. Unobstructed, you were able to see that the clothing he wore had a slit in the back, the function of which immediately became obvious as there was a flash of brilliant green light, revealing his beautiful wings when it faded.

You giggled even as you found yourself taking him in in all his glory. Even without the suit and mask, he was so openly and unashamedly Peacock. “You planned to lure him out with drama?”

“Precisely.” He bowed deeply before perching on the arm of the couch, careful not to disturb anything with his wings. “I’ve had no luck yet, but assuming he isn’t dead in a ditch somewhere, he can’t avoid me forever.”

You chewed on your lip, fingers fussing in your hair as you tried to decide on a course of action. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Genuine surprise flitted across Lyris’s expression for a second before he smiled. “That’s sweet of you, but it’s best if you don’t get involved. Just knowing this much is dangerous. I have just as many enemies as admirers.”

You sighed. A part of you wanted to protest, but he had a point. Besides, how were you supposed to help? You didn’t have any powers. “Alright, but if there’s anything I can do for you, anything at all…”

To your surprise, Lyris stood and closed the distance between the two of you in a few strides, close enough that you were struck by the memory of meeting him earlier in the day. “I sincerely hope that you don’t have to get dragged into my mess,” he said quietly, “but thank you. I’ll let you know.”

He pulled back, the moment over far too soon. “It’s getting late,” he murmured, eyes only briefly flickering to the window before falling back on you. “And trust me, your room is something of a mess right now.”

“I’m sure it’s not that bad,” you began to say, but Lyris was already shaking his head.

“You’d be surprised,” he replied, and you could see a mischievous glint in his eyes that was beginning to grow familiar to you. “But you know, since it’s my fault your room looks like an apocalypse hit it, the gracious thing to do would be to offer up my own.”

“What?!” Your eyes flew wide open. “I couldn’t accept that! It’s your room! Where would you sleep?”

Lyris raised his eyebrows, looking for all the world as if you’d just told a hilarious joke. “In my bed, of course. Where else?”

You choked on air, and you saw concern flicker over his face. “But— you— I—”

Lyris eased up immediately, his eyes bright as he chuckled. “I was only joking. I’ll take the couch. It’s only fair,” he explained lightly, before he paused, leaning in. “Unless, of course, you would prefer to share.”

Your brain screeched to a halt. Did he just say—?! You took a deep breath, closing your eyes as you tried to calm your racing thoughts. Yeah, okay, he did offer to share the bed with you. He seems serious about it, too. You’d never had an attractive guy offer to share his bed with you before. It would be madness to pass this opportunity up. Summoning all your courage, you looked Lyris in the eyes, your voice firm. “You know what? I think I would prefer that.”

If your response shocked him, he didn’t show it at all. In fact, he actually looked pleased. “Come with me, then.” He extended a hand to you. As you took it, he laced your fingers together, bringing your joined hands to his lips to place another kiss there. Once again, the action caused a stirring of butterflies in your stomach, but you did your best to conceal it. Two can play at his game. Don’t let him win.

Lyris’s bedroom was incredibly lavish, but your eyes landed on his bed and never left. The queen-sized bed had a mattress that looked heavenly to you right now, fancy pillows perfectly fluffed, pale green silk sheets neatly folded over the bed. Your exhaustion from the day’s events hit you all at once, and it was all you could do not to collapse on the bed then and there.

Lyris’s hand left yours, and you glanced over at him only to nearly choke again as he began to strip down without a care. He hummed a small tune under his breath as he removed his various pieces of jewellery, his shirt coming off next with practiced expertise. In a matter of moments, he stood almost completely naked before you, his underwear the only thing remaining. Jesus, is every person in Altadellys this ripped or have I just been getting lucky?

Lyris looked over at you, a smirk curling across his lips as he caught you staring. “Do you see something you like, my lady?”

“Uh—no! I mean, yes! I mean—gah!” You turned away from him, trying to ignore his satisfied laugh as you stripped down to your bra and underwear. Once you finished, you turned back to the bed, finding Lyris already relaxed on one side of it, though to your surprise (and gratitude) he had his eyes politely averted.

He evidently felt your weight settle into the mattress as you laid down, and he reached out to turn off the lights. “Rest well,” he offered up to the darkness, his voice barely louder than a whisper.

“You as well.” There was no more talking. As you curled up beneath the blankets, you began to wonder if you could fall asleep, hyper aware of Lyris’s weight and warmth right beside you, but soon the events of the day began to wear at your consciousness and you drifted away. Your dreams were filled with hazy images of peacocks and foxes and masks.

You awoke the next morning to find Lyris’s side of the bed empty. You fought back the disappointment that tried to settle in your stomach, reaching for your pants (that had been neatly folded and placed next to the bed, you noted curiously) to fish your phone out of their pocket.

You swiped over to your messenger out of instinct, noting a couple texts from Hazel and… one from an unknown number. Blinking in surprise, you checked the timestamp, finding it was sent at 3:42AM—in other words, while you were fast asleep. Who in the world would be messaging me at quarter to four in the morning? Curiosity compelled you to open the message.

UNKNOWN NUMBER: Are you Amara’s friend?

You stared at the message, hands trembling slightly. Normally you would’ve blocked the number and paid it no mind, but this stranger had mentioned Amara. You were pretty sure that wasn’t the world’s most common name, which meant that whoever this was, you had a common acquaintance. Unless they were stalking you. Gods, you really hoped they weren’t stalking you.

You: Yes? Who are you?

Given their apparently abnormal sleeping schedule, you really weren’t expecting them to reply for a while, but immediately, the typing dots showed up, as though they had been waiting for your response.

UNKNOWN NUMBER: You may call me Owl.

Another animal themed alias? You couldn’t deny your suspicions were raised, narrowing your eyes at your phone. Just like Fox and Peacock… but I haven’t heard of an Owl. And what connection would they have to someone like Amara, anyway?

You: Okay, Owl. What do you want from me?

In the time it took them to reply, you quickly added them to your contacts, figuring ‘Owl’ would be a lot less unnerving than a string of numbers. When you looked back at your messages, they had already responded. Damn, they type quick.

Owl: Nothing. I simply needed to verify your identity. When are you planning on applying to Optimus?

A jolt of shock and even mild fear ran down your spine before you remembered that Amara had mentioned a friend yesterday who could help you with applying for an internship. It must be Owl. You were going to pray it was Owl, or you were probably fucked.

You: Uh, later today, I think.

Once again, Owl’s response was immediate.

Owl: Thank you. I will keep watch for your application.

Owl: I’ll erase any traces of this conversation now.

You nearly choked, fingers fumbling with the phone in your haste to type.

You: What why?!

Owl: It’s for your safety. Have a good day.

Before you had a chance to further protest, the messages disappeared from your screen, leaving you with a blank DM with the mysterious Owl. You were about to try sending them a new message, bewildered, when you remembered the texts from Hazel. Shoot, how did I forget that?!

You quickly opened them, finding that they were both from yesterday afternoon, before you’d headed to Lyris’s apartment.

Hazel: Np

Hazel: Amara and I were looking to hang out somewhere this weekend so we’ll let u know abt that if u want

You: That’d be great, Hazey

You: Sorry for the way late reply, I got distracted

“Good morning, sleeping beauty.~” You almost dropped your phone as Lyris walked into the room, looking up at him with wide eyes. He was thankfully(?) clothed, though still sans vest, that unbearably attractive smirk curled across his lips. “Did you have nice dreams?”

“Uh… weird dreams, more like,” you replied, running your fingers through your hair in an attempt to look presentable. “What about you?”

“With you here, my lady? Best I’ve ever had,” Lyris replied with a playful wink, before taking on a slightly more serious demeanor. “I went out to grab breakfast, and a certain flowery devil roommate of yours accosted me on the way back. Seems like she’s pretty insistent on taking you out shopping for some new clothes today.” Despite his seemingly uninterested words, you couldn’t help but notice an excited glint in his eyes. “Though if you ask me, she’s scoping out the competition.”

“Competition?” You raised your eyebrows, and Lyris chuckled, leaning forward as if to share some scandalous conspiracy.

“Piama’s a fashion designer,” he explained with a hum. “Her talents are almost unparalleled, but don’t tell her I said that.” His attitude shifted again, lips curving into a frown as his eyes darkened. “Unfortunately, talent doesn’t matter as much as influence in Altadellys.”

“But that’s not fair.” The words were spilling out before you could stop them. Lyris gave you another pitying look.

“It isn’t,” he agreed, “but that’s the way things are in Altadellys. If you’ve got money, you’ll succeed.” He sighed softly.

Your insides still burned red hot at the injustice of it, but you were also smart enough to realize that not only were you just one person, you were also a nobody in Altadellys. As much as you wanted to help Piama, you couldn’t think of a viable way to do so. Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath. Once you opened them again, you moved on. “Well, I’d definitely love to have a fashion designer’s help in picking a new outfit.”

“Hey, I know my way around high fashion too.” Lyris gave you a mock hurt look that was so convincing you almost felt bad. Almost. “Haven’t you seen me?”

You laughed, and were rewarded by seeing the fake frown immediately turn to his genuine, gentle smile. “Don’t worry, you silly peacock,” you chided, relishing in the way his eyes lit up at the subtle nod to his alter ego. “I couldn’t forget about seeing you even if I wanted to.”

The smile was replaced by a smirk. “Flattery will get you everywhere, darling,” he said smoothly, sending an electric jolt down your spine. Before you had a chance to react, he turned away from you, grabbing a hairbrush off the dresser. “I’ll give you some privacy. When you’re ready, I grabbed a blueberry muffin for you, it’s on the kitchen counter. Hope you’re not allergic.”

You giggled despite the heat still staining your cheeks red. You figured it would be a while until you got used to how Lyris could change between personas in a snap, flirty to serious to friendly in the blink of an eye. “No allergies here. And thanks.”

“Not a problem. I’ll be in the living room if you need me.” He swept from the room, and you wasted no time in getting ready for the day. You were in the middle of trying to tame your hair with a few hair ties when you felt your phone buzz in your pocket.

Hazel: Distracted huh? :p

You nearly choked, suddenly grateful you were alone as you fumbled to not drop your phone.

You: Hazel!!!

You: It is SO not like that!!!

Hazel: LOL

Hazel: Sorry Freckles I had to tease ya

You rolled your eyes at your phone. You loved Hazel, really, you did, but she was going to be the death of you.

You: You definitely didn’t.

Hazel: Definitely did

Hazel: Best friend duties and all that

You: So should I start teasing you about Amara?

Hazel: If u wanna

Hazel: I mean shes cute

Hazel: And have u SEEN her

You: Hazey! Do you mean to tell me that my best friend has a crush and I didn’t know about it?

Hazel: LOOOOL

Hazel: Nah just aesthetic attraction tbh

Hazel: We’ll see tho

There was a knock on the door. “You alright in there?” Lyris called. “Not to rush you if you have a very detailed morning routine because I get that, but Madame Whiskers can only hold off Piama for so long.”

“I’ll be right there!” you called back, quickly typing a goodbye to Hazel.

You: Okay you useless lesbian, I’ve gotta run though.

You: My roommate and a friend are taking me clothes shopping.

Hazel: uwu have fun I’ll lyk abt any plans w/ Amara

You slipped your phone into your pocket and finished getting ready, heading out to the living room, pausing to grab the muffin from the kitchen. You found Lyris relaxed on the couch, more or less the same as he was earlier except he had now donned his vest and his hair was done up in its usual braids. Madame Whiskers was curled up by the entrance to the apartment, eyeing the door with the intensity of a hawk watching its prey.

You cleared your throat, unsure of what to say, and Lyris looked up. He offered you a small smirk before softly clicking his tongue twice. Immediately, Madame Whiskers got up, trotting over to her owner’s side and laying back down.

“Piama, you can come in now,” Lyris called, and immediately the door opened, revealing a very huffy Piama.

“Why do you let the cat have more authority in your own home than you do?” Piama complained, before her eyes landed on you. A bright smile immediately lit up her face. “Oh, good morning! Did you sleep well?”

“Uh.” Your brain decided this was an excellent time to remind you that you had shared the bed with Lyris. “Yeah, I slept fine.”

You realized your embarrassment must’ve been showing on your face as Piama grinned. “You’re blushing,” she noted, her tone filled to bursting with thinly veiled excitement. “Did something happen that I should know about?~”

“Now now Piama, don’t you think it’s rather impolite to ask another lady to kiss and tell?” Lyris reprimanded, arching one eyebrow. You breathed a sigh of relief as Piama turned to him, mouthing ‘thank you.’ He gave you a short nod.

You could see that Piama was pouting, but she quickly relented under Lyris’s unimpressed stare. “Fiiiine,” she sighed. She looked back to you. “I’m sorry.”

You offered her your best reassuring smile. “It’s alright. But just for the record, nothing happened between Lyris and I last night.”

That gave Piama pause, blinking in shock. “Wait, seriously? I thought for sure that…”

“Assumptions are a dangerous thing, Piama,” Lyris noted, coming to stand by you. “But I am rather curious as to why you’re so invested in this. Are you perhaps jealous?”

“What? No!” Piama puffed out her cheeks. “Sure, she’s cute, but I—” She stopped, groaning as she realized what he’d just got her to admit. “Lyris, I hate you.”

Lyris hummed, smirking in satisfaction. “Love you too, Piama.” You, meanwhile, were currently trying to process the fact a pretty woman had called you cute.

If looks could kill, you were pretty sure the glare Piama gave Lyris would’ve made him keel over on the spot. “You think she’s cute too,” she accused.

Lyris shrugged, neither confirming nor denying it. “Perhaps. But she’d look cuter in some more updated fashions, don’t you think?”

That was apparently an acceptable distraction for Piama, and soon enough, you found yourself in the largest clothing store you’d ever seen. Your companions navigated it with practiced ease, playfully bantering and bickering back and forth the entire time.

They were debating what shade of green you’d look best in when your thoughts began to drift. You couldn’t really keep up with what the pair were discussing, so you decided that maybe it wouldn’t hurt to look around on your own for a bit. “Hey, guys? Is it okay if I wander off for a sec?”

Lyris’s gaze slid over to you for a second as he gave you a brief nod, before returning to animatedly arguing with Piama. Permission granted, you picked a random direction and started walking, not really minding where you ended up.

Your path eventually found you in the store’s jewellery section, and you surveyed the large array of glittering trinkets with awe. Wow. It was pretty much all you could think. All of this is at least ten times fancier than anything I ever saw back home. You frowned as you took note of their price tags. And at least ten times more expensive.

Even so, your eye was still drawn to a sparkling silver necklace. Pale green crystals decorated it with leaves and flowers, and despite the fact you had never been one for luxurious accessories such as this, you found yourself checking the price tag anyway. A hundred and fifty dollars. You sighed, feeling the weight of disappointment settle in your stomach. Oh well, not like I was expecting any different.

You turned to leave only to squawk as you nearly collided with someone, a slight chill shocking you at the point of contact. “Oh shoot, I’m so sor—!”

The sentence died on your tongue as you took a step back, flicking your eyes up to fully take in this dizzyingly handsome stranger. Long black hair streaked with a gorgeous dark blue fell neatly past his shoulders, his head cocked to one side as he surveyed you. You had to repress a shudder under the intensity of his gaze, light purple eyes seeming to pierce right through to your soul and pinning you in place. His deep, deep neckline (if it could even be called that!) did nothing to conceal most of his torso, allowing you a good look at just how powerfully built he was. Fuck. Why do I keep embarrassing myself in front of hot guys?!

You realized he was still staring down at you, expression expectant, and you quickly cleared your throat. “Oh, um. I’m sorry.”

The stranger raised an eyebrow, the absolute picture of arrogance. “You should be more careful where you step,” he reprimanded, catapulting you from bi mode into indignation. Well, mostly.

You put one hand on your hip, giving him an extremely cross look. “Hey, you were the one who snuck up on me without making a damn sound.”

The stranger huffed in amusement, which only made your irritation flare higher. “And yet you still felt it necessary to apologize to me.”

You refused to tell him that it was because you were too flustered to think straight. “That was before you started acting like a haughty princeling.”

A smirk twitched across his lips, and god damn it all, it was just as stupidly attractive as Lyris’s. “You aren’t from here, are you?”

“No, I’ve lived here all my life and I’m just really obsessed with out-of-town fashions, can’t you see?” you snarked back, already not in the mood for bullshit. You tried to be a nice person, you really did, but sometimes…

“My mistake.” His tone didn’t change at all, smirk unfaltering. “I wasn’t aware that any self-respecting Altadellian would take interest in such things.”

You rolled your eyes. “Did you need something or are you just going to stand around insulting me?”

“Perhaps, if it proves entertaining.” Holy shit was this guy a smug bastard. You kind of wanted to punch him in the jaw right now, but as you were in a public space, you refrained.

“Right, well.” You weren’t going to stand here and be some arrogant jerk’s plaything. “If you’ll excuse me, I have places to be.” You stepped around the stranger, though you had barely managed to take a few strides when you heard him call after you.

“Leaving so soon? And here I was considering helping you.”

You gritted your teeth, slowly turning to face him. At least he didn’t look as condescending as before, which was lucky—for him or for you, you didn’t know. “And what could you possibly help me with?”

He tilted his head towards the necklace you’d been admiring, smirk returning. It took all your willpower not to leave then and there. “I couldn’t help but notice you were ogling that necklace there.”

You pressed your lips together in a thin line. Patience. “What about it?”

He didn’t say anything, just giving you an amused, smug look. Before you had a chance to further press, the stranger reached into his pocket, withdrawing several crisp hundred dollar bills. He held them out to you, and in your shock, you took them without thinking.

After a moment, the action fully processed, and you narrowed your eyes. “Wait. Why are you giving me this?” you asked, tone laced with infinite skepticism.

The stranger shrugged one shoulder, looking for all the world as if he didn’t care about the large sum of money he’d just given away. “I have no use for it.”

A voice calling your name stole your attention. Turning to look for the source, you found Lyris nearby, evidently searching for you. You waved to him. “Over here!”

Lyris made his way over to you, a small smile on his face. His expression immediately became filled with curiosity as he noticed the bills in your hand, folding his arms as he nodded to them. “Well now, that’s quite the sum of money you’ve got there. Where’d you get it?”

“Oh! It was given to me by—” You turned to point out the stranger, only to find he was gone. Scanning the aisles, he appeared to have disappeared without a trace. “—this man here. Huh, that’s strange. He was just behind me.”

You looked back at Lyris, who was frowning. “What did he look like?”

Well, at least it wasn’t hard to remember that. You had been having a bi panic over him before he’d opened his mouth. “Long black hair, dark blue streaks. Light purple eyes. His neckline could barely even be considered that—” You stopped as you noticed something strange flit over Lyris’s expression. “Are you alright?”

Lyris shook his head slightly as if to clear it. “Nothing you need to concern yourself with,” he replied, and you couldn’t help but feel as though his smile was fake as he surveyed the nearby area as well. “Whoever he was, he’s gone now.” He didn’t seem willing to dwell on the topic.

You sighed dejectedly. “That’s so weird. I have no idea how he could’ve slipped away in the second I turned my back.” You glanced down at the bills in your hand. “Well, I shouldn’t waste this. He gave me these for a reason, so…”

Your gaze slipped back to the necklace. Lyris followed your line of sight and grinned. “Are you sure you don’t have powers?” he asked teasingly, voice hushed. “You must be psychic to pick an accessory that will go so perfectly with the dress Piama wants you to try.”

You rolled your eyes good-naturedly. After dealing with such an enigma of a man, Lyris’s teasing was a familiar comfort. “I’ll be sure to let you know if I spontaneously develop powers,” you quipped. “Lead the way?”

The dress Piama had picked was a simple off-the-shoulder one, green and white with swirling silver trim. It fit you perfectly, and as you stared into the dressing room mirror, you couldn’t help but think, wow, Lyris was right. It’s like the necklace and this dress were made to be a set.

You stepped out and Piama gave a little squeal. “You look like a princess!” she complimented enthusiastically, beaming.

“She’s right,” Lyris confirmed, which might have been the first time you’d heard them agree this entire trip. “You look like an Altadellian, born and bred.”

You went to thank them both before remembering what Lyris had said last night to you about Altadellys. You hesitated. Do I really want to look like I belong in a city that’s apparently much darker than its glittery surface? The thought made your gut twist with unease, but you were pretty sure his statement was meant as a compliment. “Thank you?” Even so, you couldn’t keep the slight questioning tone out of your voice.

Piama turned to Lyris, eyes bright. “This has got to be the one. It’s like it was made for her!”

“You certainly aren’t wrong,” Lyris agreed. “Not to mention I doubt we could find something else we agree on. However…” His gaze flickered over to you. “I believe it should be her final decision.”

You weren’t exactly eager to spend another few hours waiting while your friends bickered about something you really didn’t understand, and the dress was surprisingly more comfortable than it looked. “I like it too,” you decided. “I’ll take it.”

Piama clapped her hands together with glee. “I knew you would! No one will be able to take their eyes off you.”

Looking between Lyris and Piama’s resplendent outfits, you were pretty sure you still looked plain by comparison, but you decided not to comment. “Well, I don’t know about that…”

“Don’t undersell yourself,” Lyris gently reprimanded, and you glanced up at him, surprised. “You were already prettier than half the girls in Altadellys. The outfit just makes it more obvious.”

“Lyris!” Piama pouted, placing her hands on her hips.

Lyris chuckled, shaking his head at her. “Did I not say half the girls in Altadellys? You are as beautiful as ever, Piama, do not worry.”

You didn’t really catch the rest of their banter as Lyris’s words finally sunk in. What?! Heat blossomed in your cheeks as you shook your head, trying desperately to retain your composure. This isn’t the first time he’s said something like this… is he… flirting with me?

“Hey, are you listening?” You jumped as Piama’s voice cut into your reverie.

“She seems a little flushed,” Lyris noted, smirking like the cat who got both the canary and the cream. “Are you feeling well?”

Damn you. Damn you damn you damn you. Well, two could play at that game. “Maybe I do feel a little sick,” you countered, looking him in the eyes. “I feel weak, and my heart rate is through the roof. Do you know what’s wrong with me, Doctor Rosi?”

Lyris’s eyes gleamed with pure, unfiltered delight as he leaned forward, tapping his chin in mock thought. “Those are quite the serious symptoms. I diagnose you with a case of… feelings.”

You let out a dramatic gasp, placing one hand to your forehead as if in terrible agony. “Feelings! Oh, woe is me. Doctor, tell me—will I survive this affliction?”

Lyris gave you a look of such forlorn pity you almost broke character to laugh. “Unfortunately, neither time nor medicine can heal this malady. There are ways to ease the symptoms though…” Mischief curled the corners of his lips.

“I beg of you, tell me what I can do to ease my pain—” You made to mock stumble, only to misjudge your footing and actually trip over your own two feet. You saw Lyris’s act drop as he immediately reached out to catch you, pulling you close to keep you steady. There was a fierce determination in his eyes as he glanced down at you, and you could practically see Peacock’s mask on him.

“Get a room, you two!” The moment was shattered by Piama’s exclamation, and you flushed an even deeper red, looking over to see her grinning widely and slightly conspiratorially. “I mean, tell me everything, but still, get a room.”

You disentangled yourself from Lyris’s arms, hiding your face in your hair as you determinedly looked anywhere but at the two of them. Lyris, meanwhile, seemed completely unfazed, as you heard him chuckle. “As wonderful as your suggestion sounds, Piama, I believe I’m booked for the rest of the day.”

That caught you by surprise, enough for you to temporarily break free of your embarrassment to glance over at him. He gave you a subtle wink, and you immediately understood that oh, he’s going to go do vigilante stuff as Peacock.

Piama, who was evidently not in on the secret, gave an incredulous huff. “Seriously? This has been happening way too often recently. I’m crossing out the partner theory because you’ve been soooo blatantly flirting with her, so what the heck have you been up to?”

Lyris gave her a mysterious smile. “It seems I’m more and more in demand these days. You know how it is—you can never get a moment of peace when you’re someone like me.” He gave an exaggerated sigh, before turning to you. “I’ll leave you in Piama’s hands, but if something does happen… call me.”

“I don’t have your number,” you pointed out, but this only caused him to smirk.

“My mistake. We’ll have to fix that then, won’t we?”

Oh. OH. Holy shit, he was asking for your number. A hot guy… was asking for your number. A hot guy you’d seen almost naked and shared a bed with was asking for your number. You nearly dropped your phone in your haste to pull it out. “Oh, right! Of course, just let me…” You opened up a blank contact, naming it ‘Lyris’ before handing it over to him.

He inputted his number with a smirk, and you quickly sent him a text so that he’d have yours. “I’ll be on my way then. Don’t be a stranger, darling.” He offered you one last wink before turning and striding away. You could only watch him disappear into the crowd, your mind still trying to process what had just happened.

“Didn’t I explicitly tell you not to fall for his charms?” Piama’s playful reprimand brought you back to reality. “Though I guess I can’t blame you.”

You raised your eyebrows. “Okay, one, it’s not what you think, and two… do you mean to imply you might’ve caught feelings for him too?”

“If I had, it would’ve made me no different to half the girls in Altadellys,” Piama replied, and you couldn’t help but note the deflection. She didn’t seem to want to linger on it either, giving you a smug smile. “But he’s definitely never flirted with me like that.”

“Piama…” You sighed, shaking your head, though you found yourself unable to be truly upset with her. “Let’s just go home. I think I’ve had enough excitement for one day.”

Piama pouted, evidently not quite ready to give up this piece of juicy gossip, but she did relent easily enough. It was almost a relief to sprawl across your apartment’s couch with a cup of coffee and a packet of oreos, laptop balanced precariously on your knees as you idly clacked at the keys to fill out your application to Optimus.

You had half an oreo caught between your teeth as you finished, hitting the send button with a sigh as you shut your laptop and leaned back on the couch. Piama was holed up in her room working on a new design so you really weren’t sure what you could—

A loud chiming interrupted your thoughts and you jumped, barely managing to avoid spilling your drink everywhere. You quickly opened your messenger, expecting the text to be from Hazel or maybe even Lyris, only to stop and stare as you recognized the sender.

Owl: I’ve processed your application for you. They should be expecting you to start working tomorrow morning.

Shaking yourself out of your daze, you hastened to reply.

You: Already??? How did you do that so fast? I sent it in like, a second ago.

Wait.

You: TOMORROW MORNING???

Owl: I had assumed you’d want to start working as soon as possible. Altadellys is a treacherous city, after all. Hardly a place for someone with no money.

Lyris said the same thing, more or less… You sighed, chewing on your lip. Well, I guess I probably shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth, huh?

You: Right, sorry. Well, thank you.

Owl: Don’t mention it.

That seemed to be the end of the conversation, and you waited for Owl to wipe your DMs like they had done earlier in the day. To your surprise, the messages remained. You were about to ask them about it when a thought occurred to you. Wait, this is my chance to get to know more about them! Besides, it’s not like I have anything better to—

A text from Hazel flashed onto your screen and you clicked on it out of instinct.

Hazel: Ok so I know I said this weekend 4 plans with Amara but we got 3 last minute tickets 4 a musical and it’s happening, like, now

...crap.

CHAPTER CHOICE

You've faced with a crossroads! You have the opportunity to gather some information on the mysterious friend of Amara's, Owl, but if you do, you won't be able to go see a last-minute musical with Amara and Hazel. Do you: A) Continue texting with Owl B) Go see the musical with Amara and Hazel

[misterallfiction]

Prelude to tomfoolery [Closed]

His feet carry him a great distance, passing through various locations with little ruckus or fanfare. He’d subconsciously avoided direct confrontation with anyone he’d regarded as a familiar face and drowned out the words of every faceless passerby, until his legs finally ceased moving. The park he found himself in was bustling, but not overly crowded. anywhere between 15 to 20 people simply went about their day, enjoying quality time spent with friends or loved ones.

Kumagawa Misogi found himself on Spirale once more. His eyes stared off into space, not focusing on any one individual, or even the scenery surrounding him. He’d confined himself entirely to his thoughts, leaving his body in an odd state of limbo that reacted to no outside stimuli. A ball bumps against his leg before rolling away, but he pays it no heed.

He felt sick.

He didn’t question how it was he’d been brought back here or even when he left in the first place. He’d gone through this process enough times to know he wouldn’t get an answer. That part wasn’t important. It never was. But he’d always focused on it every single time something like this happened. Even in the old ‘city’ he’d been trapped in before being brought here. Why did he do that? A part of him knew why, but he tried to keep himself from pursuing that line of thinking. He desperately tried to, but it was as though a dam had been broken and everything it had been holding back was suddenly gushing out.

His chest feels heavy. It’s getting harder to breathe.

That nagging thought in the back of his mind. That thought he’d pushed back there to begin with, was beginning to claw it’s way to the forefront. He tried to ignore it all. Or, at least, downplay it. The fact that he knew so many of these faces. At first it seemed like a joke. But the longer he spent time around them, the more apprehensive he grew. So he tried to distract himself. With chaos. With comedy. If this was a joke, why not play along with it? Have fun with it. Revel in it. She probably thought the same thing too at first, didn’t she? The moment her name pops into his head is the moment he knows he’s lost. He didn’t want to consider that possibility. The possibility that she’d been right all along.

His body begins to rock slightly. A boy and his friends come to retrieve the ball and stare up at him, asking if he’s alright. They’re invisible to him.

The anger and frustration that he and everyone in his world felt towards her  in that moment was immense. When she declared, so brazenly, that their entire lives had been a lie. That everything they’d ever experienced was meaningless. That every action they’d ever taken was orchestrated by someone else. All for the value of.. entertainment. Even for someone like him, the very idea of it was too much to bare. And thankfully, someone far stronger than him challenged that notion. Someone who made them all feel real. They were all real. Their lives weren’t fiction.

But everyone here is the same. They lived their lives to the fullest, believing themselves to be people who mattered. Believing that they were in control of their own actions. Deep down, a part of him loathed every single one of them for that. Because it placed him squarely in her shoes. They didn’t matter. Their lives weren’t their own. A part of his mind screamed that with the utmost conviction. And yet, he was right here with them. Living in the same space as them. How could he be different from them when he was stuck here under the very same circumstances?

His stomach turns. It feels like he’s going to vomit. He wants to vomit, but there’s nothing there. Being in his own body feels like torture.

And now, having been brought here again, his worst fears had been almost entirely realized. It was only natural that when he left this place, he wouldn’t be able to remember it. It was the same for the old city. No one who left would be able to remember their time here. That wasn’t what bothered him. What bothered him now, after coming back here, was searching through his memories before he returned. He’d done so every single time he disappeared, but would always gloss over his memories. But this time, he carefully sifted through everything and came to the realization that..

He was stuck. Since the last two times he’d returned to his world, his memories had not advanced int he slightest. He remembered leaving his lover behind. He remembered leaving a heartfelt message to Medaka. He remembered going off on a journey. To where? Where did he go? He’d gone on that journey since the first time he arrived in the old city, but no matter how many times he left and returned, he couldn’t remember a single thing about it. As if he’d been left off on some sort of cliffhanger. Like a story left unfinished and tossed aside, with glaring omissions in his story.

Was that normal? It couldn’t be. He recalled seeing friends leave and return, with full knowledge of things that had transpired in their world during the interim. Some even changed their appearances. Grew physically. Then why did it not happen to him? Why was he always left on that aimless journey? Why couldn’t he even remember where he’d gone to?

He knew the answer now. And it weighed down on him in a way that nearly made his legs buckle. His thoughts were frantic. Expression distraught. Feelings of anger, grief and panic strike him all at once. Being conscious hurts. The air around him feel stale and every face around him makes him panic. He tries to center himself again, but it’s too late. He can’t. The realization of what he was. What the girl he once loved had always told him he was, was breaking him. Did she feel the same? No. She was born with that very knowledge. Having to live through countless millennia with that knowledge must have been torture. So much so that she’d even made an attempt to end their entire world. The horrible feeling consuming him now couldn’t possibly compare to what she must have experienced. But he wasn’t as strong as her. He couldn’t take it. He didn’t want to.

He just wants it to stop. Please, make it stop.

The shaking ends. His eyes, which had been glued to the floor for some time now, finally rise and regain their focus. A smile graces his face and he straightens himself out like a man on top of the world. 

“『Well, guess I should let everyone know I’m back!』”

He marches forward dramatically, humming a silly little tune to himself. But it’s all performative. Despite his smile, he is still wracked with anxiety. His heart is still racing faster than it ever has and his thoughts are far more chaotic than they’ve ever been. Its a final, desperate attempt to push it all to the back of his mind again, but he knows it’s not working. But this is all he can think to do. 

But as he leaves, he leaves an eerie silence in his wake. The voices that had been all around him had been rendered silent and not a single soul could be seen in that park. As though the twenty or so people around him had simply vanished without a trace..

[atopearth]

Ikemen Vampire Part 3 - Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart Route

Time for the hyped Mozart! Nice start tbh, with the heroine stressed from everything that’s happening and how the guys could actually be vampires, it’s not a surprise for her to have a bit of a breakdown in her room, and what’s best for times like these? A little music! She even gets the honour of hearing Mozart playing piano🥰 Great way to fall asleep~ Not a great way to wake up to an angry and unfriendly Mozart though haha. I don’t know if Sebastian is being mean or nice by telling her to take care of Mozart’s meals from now on (bringing it to him) lol, but yep, that was definitely quite rude of Mozart to say he despises her, sounds like there’s depth to that hatred even though they’ve barely conversed. Umm, no, Arthur, please, no biting people who don’t give consent! Lol, I honestly feel like Arthur is more of a villain than the villains in previous routes just because of how much of a scare mechanic he is for the heroine in the beginning of most routes lol. I wonder if Mozart is just pushing her away from him and everything for her own good? Not that she really has a choice to stay here or not though lol. Omggg, Mozart smiling at her for having the guts to come back and clean the spill she made when he was so threatening to her was so cute! He needs to smile more! Lmao at Mozart insulting her thinking he was complimenting her, at least he did it with a smile on his face I guess loll.

Nice of Dazai to tell her some reasons as to why Mozart would be so annoyed with her, it’s understandable since he doesn’t like people touching his things and the noise (ever since her arrival) has been affecting his concentration, but yeah. Lmao, I’m starting to find Mozart’s rudeness hilarious, I loved it when she asked him if he was free, and he said he could tell that she wanted to talk to him, but then said that the feeling wasn’t mutual so he closed the door on her hahahaha. I would be so angry if I was the heroine but that was so funny😆 It was so cute when she finally kinda got through to him that she wanted to help out and belong here since she’s got nothing to do anyway and that’s why she keeps trying, it was surprising when he said he could actually understand those feelings of hers haha. I wonder why mentioning Sherlock Holmes to Arthur is taboo… HAHAHA, I love Mozart, he felt bad about saying he despises her when she’s been so kind to even cover him with his blanket when he fell asleep on his piano, so he “apologises” to her and then says, well, I’m waiting for you to forgive me LOL. 10/10 apology right there, but it’s already great compared to his usual stuff lmao. Aww, then he properly apologised, he’s such a good guy.

Lmao at the heroine comparing Mozart’s “nicer” attitude to taming a wild animal hahahaha. I love how they finally had their first normal conversation and it was about chocolate! Hahaha, it’s cute to see them insult each other so normally now too lolll. Although his hatred for carriages is legitimate due to nearly dying in one, I find it kinda silly and cute how he can’t stand it so much that he would babble on about the evils of carriages to the heroine hahahah. HAHAHA, I love how when they went to the ball and she was trying to be considerate by asking whether her holding his arm would be uncomfortable for him since he’s a germaphobe, and he’s like it’s okay if it’s you, kinda makes her (and me the reader) swoon a little bit, until he says that he thinks of her as such a simple creature, so she doesn’t even count as a human LOL. Thanks for shattering all romantic vibes Mozart. I actually find it so hilarious that the heroine thinks Mozart is rude, but really, sometimes she’s just as rude lmao. She full thought he ate something bad when he politely talked to the host of the party hahaha. I think it’s kinda nice yet saddening the things you have to compromise to do the things you love, in order for Mozart to keep progressing with his music, it was inevitable for him to learn and accustom himself to handling patrons such as the host at the ball, but it really shows how much he regards music as his life, not only did he become a vampire to continue composing and playing piano, he spent his whole human life devoted to it as well, and I don’t think anyone would belittle him for having to smile at these patrons even if it’s not “him”. It just really shows how much he cares for his music and how much he would sacrifice for it.

It’s saddening to think that Mozart composed a requiem on his deathbed, and was told that it was flawed by Salieri (his rival and closest friend that held the position of Imperial royal composer or something that Mozart wanted), but it was also then that Mozart realised all his life, he composed music and played music to survive, and entertain people, he had never once composed for himself or for any other type of joy. I guess he regrets that, and became a vampire to try and compose the true perfect piece of music. Not sure if he’ll really find it but I guess he’s got some time as a vampire haha. On another note, it’s kinda amusing to hear Amadeus Mozart and Salieri here since I’m playing Steins;Gate 0 right now as well haha. Awww, I’m so happy about the progress with their relationship! Not only does he smile at her all the time now, he even invited her to listen to him play the piano in the music room! He even referred to her as a friend, I’m so touched🥺🥺 Awww I can’t blame her for running away from the piano room when he kissed her on the cheek, that would have been surprising lol! At least she understands her feelings though😆 Lmao when Saint-Germain told Mozart there’s a persistent aristocrat who wants him to play piano for him that he has to turn down in person (instead of the usual letters he sends to all the others that invite him), and the heroine says have a safe trip, but Mozart is like you’re coming with me haha. It’s cute that he needs her to be his distraction whilst sitting in the bumpy carriage ride haha. Lmao at the happy go lucky aristocrat, at least he’s understanding and nice towards Mozart’s rejection lol.

It was so sweet when Mozart took her to town, joined in a festival and danced with her, all because she said (before they went to visit the Duke) she wanted to see what 19th century Paris was like. Mozart is so endearing. Although it’s understandable for that musician at the ball to be so angry (his financial provider gave up on him after hearing Mozart’s piano), but even I was kinda angry when he insulted Mozart for relying on his talent. It’s probably because we’ve seen how much Mozart has sacrificed for his music, not only had he sacrificed all his time in his previous life, he continues to do the same as a vampire for as long as he can. Lmao at the heroine thinking she’s on the same level (of care) as Mozart’s sheet music when he wrapped her hand in his handkerchief (because that guy grabbed her really hard). It’s so cute how she’s happy about it as well, but it’s true that that means she’s pretty important hahaha! Ooh the more a vampire likes a human, the more they want their blood? It’s nice to see Mozart finally acknowledge his feelings for the heroine even if he doesn’t want to. Omg, I wanted to cry when Mozart finally decided to face the heroine and told her his heartfelt feelings and appreciation for her making him realise that the past is what makes him him, and he even composed a song for her😭 I thought it was so sweet how he honestly told her how annoying he thought her existence was initially, but after being shown her way of life, her choices to believe in others rather than to deny them like he always did, he found a different sort of joy he never found before. I really liked how he shared his feelings with her. I honestly thought it was going to be a cliche confession and was going to die from the same cliche lines, but Mozart’s words were so heartfelt, my heart is happy for his happiness in his own growth.

Although he’s super forward, it was very considerate of Mozart to tell her that he honestly wants her to stay here, but acknowledges that this should be her decision, and her decision alone because her past is just as important as her present. He also doesn’t want to influence her decision in the heat of the moment and so won’t “take her to bed” unless she’s decided that she’ll stay here. Salieri sounds like such a pitiful villain, it’s as if some guy revived him as a vampire just to torment him again with his jealousy towards Mozart, and although Salieri admits it, he doesn’t seem to really hate Mozart at all, instead, he just can’t help but be jealous and someone probably strengthened these emotions of his to the point that’s making him crazy, so he wants Mozart to kill him so he can be free? I like how it was the heroine who taught Mozart to trust people again, and so it’s because of her that he chose to believe that Salieri didn’t mean to do any harm and came to listen to what he planned to do instead of killing him. I also like how he got the other guys as backup just in case though haha. It’s nice that they were both able to resolve things properly and even continue on their journey of creating more music, I think that’s the best blessing to this world with their talents and with their new outlook towards the world, without guilt and jealousy weighing upon them both anymore.

I find their relationship so sweet and cute now that they’ve told each other their feelings, but I also really appreciated seeing Mozart so desperately go and stop the heroine from going back to her time (when Arthur teased Mozart saying she might go back). They both decided in their minds that she would be staying but never really voiced it out loud, so it was kinda cute to see Mozart so flustered haha. And the romantic ending as usual was a projection of their everyday life now, and I found it pretty cute that it’s so normal, with them moving out, him continuing to play music, it’s just so normal and sweet, especially when he thinks of her as his muse☺️

Overall, Mozart definitely has the best route and character out of the original three guys. Not only was his story engaging and balanced, with a proper beginning, an understandable “villain” that was spoken about (as opposed to random “villains” appearing), and you could really see Mozart warm up to the heroine and grow as a person. It was also quite funny and enjoyable the whole time! Unlike the others, it was clear why he “needed” to become a vampire, why he chose to do it, how it affects him, and how his previous life affected him. I also love how their relationship kinda has them both teasing each other, being playful with each other, and it’s so great to see how much their relationship progressed from the very beginning! Just as Mozart wanted to protect her, so did she, and I think she achieved that by helping him realise what music means to him in a sense. It felt very natural, sweet, funny and wholesome, definitely my favourite route and guy. He’s so beautiful too🥰

P.S Also wanted to note that I’m FINALLYYYY up to date on my blog posts! I used to have such a huge backlog of drafts for all the routes I had done already, but now there’s literally zero. No more daily posts, but it’s so satisfying to have finally caught up with my reading haha, yay! :D

[fallcuddless]

NejiTen: Right Now

Merry Christmas and happy Holidays to all! This is for@clem-chan ! hope you’re having an awesome holiday season :) It was a tough decision, but I decided to go with the NejiTen Family!AU *with some twists*. Hope you enjoy!

“Tenji, settle down! Kanatari, get down here! Don’t make me have to get you!”  A pounding headache was coming on despite her efforts to remain calm.

On the battlefield, only flames of adrenaline and excitement sparked within her. Which is why it was a wonder that in situations like these she grew weary in a heartbeat. It was only five past 8:30.

“But Mommy, I wanna train a little longer, train with me a little longer, pleeease!” The little girl with dark brown pigtails chanted, dangling high upon a branch belonging to a tree planted in their backyard.

“Yeah mom, why do I have to go to bed so early?” the boy named Tenji complained. He was spinning in circles at the speed of sound. After what must have been his 100th spin Tenji lost his balance and crashed onto the grass with a yelp. The long black ponytail situated at the top of his head smacked him in the face. “I’m 6 years old now! I get it for Kanatari, ‘cause she’s still a baby but not me...”

“Hey, I am not a baby you meanie!” Kanatari yelled.

Tenten clenched her jaw, holding her arms out underneath her dangling little girl who continued swinging to and fro on the branch nearly 20 feet from the ground. “I've got you, sweetie, let go before you hurt yourself!”

“But see, Mommy, I’m super strong! Watch how long I can hold on! I’m gonna be strong enough to use any ninja tool in the world like you in no time,” she giggled. “See, I’m already stronger than Tenji.”

“You take that back you baby!”

“Climb up here and make me!”

“That’s enough, both of you. Tenji, get up, and Kanatari, get down. You both know that it is past your bedtime,” a stern voice sounded through the chaos.

A wave of relief flooded Tenten before a kindling annoyance followed like an aftertaste. He could have come sooner. As punctual as he was in everything else, when it came to getting ready for bed, he always took his time. So, often it was her helping the kids with their bedtime routine. “Neji…”

Neji stood a ways from them on the wooden verandah in his silk pajama attire. Hands on his hips. “As I already told you two, I have an important mission tomorrow. Now if you tire out your mother, I’ll have no choice but to place you in the care of Uncle Lee for the day tomorrow because your mother will need to rest.”

“NO!” both children shouted.

Tenji popped up from the ground and bolted toward his scowling father and Tenten jumped when a weight suddenly plopped into her arms and two warm limbs wrapped around her neck.

“Don’t make us go to Uncle Lee’s!”

“Yeah, he’ll make us run 30 laps around the village again! And if we can’t do that, we have to do 60 sit-ups, a-and much more!”

“‘Cause he says it’s in the name of… of youth!” Kanatari nestled her head into the crook of Tenten’s neck.

“Father! I’m exhausted!” Tenji faked a yawn, latching himself around Neji’s waist.

“I’ll bet,” The Hyuga said looking down at his son, “You’ll have to channel that energy you use running around to improve the Revolving Heaven technique. We’ll work more on that later.”

Tenji looked up at Neji with wide, sparkling eyes. “All right!”

In silence, Tenten approached the walkway catching Neji’s gaze. She didn’t know if she wanted to scowl or smirk as she passed him, shaking her head. “That’s what I thought,” she sighed.

 ~~~~~~

“So, Lee’s vigor has come back to repay us after all this time. Who would have thought?”

“Making jokes now I see,” Tenten said with a hint of sarcasm in her voice. While waiting for Neji as he’d put the kids to bed, Tenten had changed into her own pajamas.

Neji made his way around the couch with two cups in hand. He handed her the cup that emitted no steam and sat down next to her, putting the one that did radiate steam to his lips. “Joking? No, it's merely an observation.”

Tenten eyed the liquid in her cup, her hands becoming pleasantly chilled from its temperature. She breathed in the tea’s peppermint and chestnut aroma. Even cold, it put a warm, fuzzy feeling in her chest.

Subtly, she looked over at the one she promised to spend the rest of her days with. As usual, he appeared so calm, drinking his tea as he stared at the warm fireplace. So tranquil and yet… there was a more open, almost vulnerable vibe about him that was so different from his signature guarded self during missions, training sessions and in the heat of battle. Though it was a subtle difference, it didn’t go unnoticed by Tenten. Although she never voiced it, she cherished this side of him that showed itself when they were alone.

The kunoichi took a sip of the tea.  “...Mmm. Just the way I like it.” She could no longer resist smiling. This kind was her favorite. He knew her too well.

Neji looked at her out of the corner of his eye. “If I wasn’t aware of your favorite drink, I’d feel like a fraud when I say that I love you," he murmured looking almost smug.

Right. And who would have thought that underneath the cold exterior…he’s actually pretty romantic?  The word love never sounded so beautiful coming from anyone else.

The warmth of Neji’s palm suddenly slid over her hand. Why did his sweet side always come upon her like an elite shinobi’s best infiltration? Even to this day, years after being together, the kunoichi felt a little heat rush to her face.

“Hey… It’ll be your turn to deal with those two after tomorrow night. Don’t think I’ll forget,” she smiled. They had a system, and silk pajamas he needed to put on every night or not, she was going to fight to make sure they stuck to that system.

Neji continued staring at the fire, with one hand still placed over hers. “Looking forward to it.”

~~~~~~~

After a while, the Hyuga finished his tea before placing the cup on the floor. He leaned back into the couch and draped his arm over the back. Subconsciously, muscle memory kicked in and Tenten leaned into him, warming up to his side. Silence ensued.

The kunoichi’s eyes suddenly weighed several pounds as a wave of exhaustion came upon her. The warmth of the fireplace and his presence set in. It was so cold outside this time in December, but as much as she disliked this time of the year, this moment was perfect.

She tilted her head up and found herself going forward to close the gap between their lips but opened her eyes she hadn’t even realized she’d closed when she felt finger pads brush her cheek.

Neji signed suddenly, breaking the long and peaceful silence. "You don't get it, do you, Tenten."

Tenten rose an eyebrow. She focused on his brow, so delicately furrowed. She realized his body had gone slightly rigid.

“What’s wrong, Neji?”

The Hyuuga had an almost conflicted look. “I wanted to tell you here, right now because… I never got the chance to. I apologize."

The brunette sat up to get a better view of him, trying to understand what he was talking about, exactly. After a few moments however, she realized what Neji was referring to.

"What are you talking about? ...You’ve told me before." Neji wasn't the type she could say told her all of the time, but the first time he'd uttered the words to her, the words seared themselves into her soul. He expressed his love for her through everything he did in every moment they existed together.

I love you. She could count how many times he'd told her so on one hand. And yet she saw that he did in everything. She saw it when they’d go on missions together. She saw it in moments like these on the couch. She saw it in the way he played with Kanatari and practiced Hyuga techniques with Tenji. She knew his heart was saying it as many times as there were drops of water in the ocean.

She weaved a lock of his hair through her fingers, shaking her head. “You’re silly, Neji.” She remembered the last time he'd said it to her. She remembered it like it was...

"You're mistaken," Neji said.

When was it? He’d last told her the exact words yesterday she thought. Yeah, when she was putting the laundry away. She thought. Wait, no, Kanatari had said those words to her.

When had he last told her? It was…

…..

…….

She couldn't remember.

"You can’t recall, can you?” There was a hint of pain in his usually fluid tone. “It was only for the best. I know I didn’t get the chance to explain to you. I didn't get the chance to speak with you… about anything. But I figured you would understand.”

After realizing her gaze had wandered to the crackling fire of the fireplace as she tried to make sense of his nonsensical words, Tenten snapped her eyes back to him. The fingers on her face were still there but she realized that the feather-like touch was no longer felt on her skin.

When her shaky hand rose to touch his graceful fingers, a bitter feeling gripped her when her hand passed through. A gasp was stuck in her throat and suddenly it was as if everything was in slow motion as she backed away, towards the other end of the couch. Her eyes were wide as she looked into his. Pale, lifeless, a ghost’s. He opened his mouth.

“...If only things had been different.”

Her head was spinning. She couldn’t speak.

‘It was for the best.’

“Mom?”

Tenten could no longer breathe as her head snapped to her right to see Tenji standing just a couple feet from her. He was squinting due to the dim light of the fire. He yawned and rubbed his eyes, peering at her.

“Tenji? W-what are you doing awake?” She hadn’t heard him approach whatsoever.

Tenji appeared baffled, his wide byakugan regarding her. “Huh? I came to wake you up.”

Tenten stared at him. “I am awake.”

“No, you’re not.”

She realized something was missing out of the corner of her eye. The silk pajamas were lying in a heap on the couch cushion. Neji was gone.

'I apologize.’

Small hands gripped her shoulders and she was shaking back and forth.

“Mom! Wake up, Mom!”

Tenten shrieked, gasping for air as she flung herself into a sitting position in her bed. Sweat clung to her like a second skin and she was hyperventilating. Seconds passed and she managed to calm herself down in the silence of the night. As her heart slowed, reality set in.

He was gone. Those three words had never been spoken. They never would be.

…

...

Well, that was just fine.

It was fine because she never loved him. Actually, she hated him. She absolutely hated him with all of her being. Who could ever think of loving an unthoughtful , cold and unfeeling, impulsive, genius idiot? They wouldn’t have ended up together if he was a breathing soul today, she told herself.

The tears that began to blur her vision said otherwise.

She hated how selfish she sounded in her own mind. She hated that he gave his life away for something so heroic; for she could never be righteously angry at him without feeling guilty. She hated how tiring, but beautiful their children had been in her dream. She hated that the color of the moon’s light that shone through her window reminded her of his eyes.

Neji… In that single moment of sacrifice... you chose to give away what I never mentioned… but what could have been.

As if in response, words from the dream suddenly sounded in her mind, a gentle whisper.

‘I wanted to tell you here, right now…’

Slowly. Slowly her mouth opened in the darkness, forming words that refused to make a sound. Words that would never be truly spoken. Just like his never would be. “I love you too.”

[takingcourage]

4:00 AM

Pairing: Liam x MC

Word Count: 2,544

Summary: Eliza wakes early and worries how the future will treat her unborn child. (This story follows Three Questions, but can be read independently.)

Eliza awoke to a tingling burst that traveled the length of her body. Catching her breath, she rolled over to consult the clock on her nightstand: 4:12. She was an early riser by nature, but this was stretching the bounds of what she considered acceptable. With a sigh, she repositioned herself, nuzzling closer to Liam’s sleeping form in hopes that his quiet breathing would help lull her back into a doze.

When she’d learned of her pregnancy, she had known that a change to her sleeping schedule was imminent, but she had naively expected it to come after the child was born and not while it was still in her womb. The baby wasn’t due for another three months, but the nights of tossing and turning had started weeks ago and had only increased in frequency the closer she came to the anticipated date.

Accepting defeat, Eliza gently pulled away from Liam and extracted herself from their bed. Her feet carried her through the moonlit hallway to the baby’s nursery, still fresh with the scent of new carpet and paint. They’d finished this room just the week before, and the nursing chair in the corner had been their final major addition. If Eliza spent as much time sitting in it after the baby was born as she had in the past few days, they would get their money’s worth several times over. 

She sank into the deep cushions of the chair, extending a hand to massage the plush bumper of the crib beside her. As had become her custom, her free hand settled on her swollen belly. 

As the birth grew closer, her worries over her son’s future had only increased. She’d had little but excitement at first, especially when the pregnancy was still a secret that she and Liam could share. In the days when the baby was still intangible, it had been something to exchange coy smiles about over formal dinners, a reason to snatch one another’s hands when they saw young children who reminded them of their future. Yet, since the official press release, she’d struggled to separate the child from the heir.

Cordonian media outlets had borne the news with sufficient joy, and the entire country breathed a collective sigh of relief at the announcement. The complaints about Eliza’s role as queen had been few and far between, but there had been little doubt in anyone’s mind that providing a prince or princess to follow in Liam’s footsteps was one of her primary duties.

Duty. Her eyes blurred with tears and her chest was burdened with guilt that had been accumulating over these past months. She’d chosen this life for herself -- the countless events of court, painstaking meetings with the press, living in a fishbowl for an entire country to view and pass judgement... She’d known many of the detractors of this life beforehand, and yet had entered into it willingly. For her child, the position would be simply an accident of his birth.

She and Liam had talked of these matters briefly before their marriage, and she had made peace with her decision at that time. Now, with hormones raging and a very real child growing within, she was beginning to doubt her choice and the implications it held for the life inside of her.

More than anyone, she saw the burden that rested on Liam’s shoulders, and the thought of putting a babe through such an ordeal was enough to churn her stomach. How many times had her heart broken to hear the stories of Liam’s abbreviated childhood? She shuddered to think of her own child having to fit all of his into brief weekends in Valtoria or summer trips to Applewood.

What kind of mother was she to condemn a baby to such a life? Instinctively, she pulled her arms closer around her midsection in a protective gesture. If only you could stay here, safe forever. She knew that she would do everything in her power to keep the child from harm, but everything in her power still wouldn’t be enough.

She was blotting at the tears on her jawline when she heard soft footsteps padding through the hall.

“Eliza?”

She regarded her husband with swollen eyes, grateful that the relative darkness helped to conceal her grave appearance. Shadows on the wall shifted as Liam passed in front of the nightlight and came to sit on the floor beside her chair.

“Another restless night?”

She nodded, wiping the tears on her hands against the thin fabric of her pajama pants. His voice was still gravelly with sleep, and her features relaxed at the familiar tone. “You should go back to bed, Liam. You’ll regret this in the morning.” She knew well that his schedule was unforgiving.

“In nearly four years of knowing you, I have never regretted time spent in your company.”

Eliza looked down at her tired husband, pressing her fingers into the upturned palm that was resting against her thigh. Even at 4:00 in the morning, he always knew what to say. A familiar silence fell for several moments, broken only by the faint hum of the central heating kicking on after a period of rest. There had been many nights when such ambient noises had been all it took to lull her into a sense of security that was sufficient for sleep. But not tonight.

“Is it our child that has you crying?” He asked her finally, pressing a kiss to the fingers he held.

She whispered a response in the affirmative.

“Would it help to tell me? As my very wise queen is fond of saying, burdens are lighter when shared.” In the darkness, she couldn’t make out the details of his face, but she knew his expressions by heart. His brow would furrow in concern, blue eyes narrowing as they looked on with a boundless store of compassion. It was this care for others that made him such an excellent king. It was one of many traits that would make him an excellent father.

Thinking of his impending fatherhood, Eliza nodded. Her movement was mimicked in the dance of shadows across the wall.

After some moments, her emotions could no longer remain in check. “I can’t help feeling guilty. It doesn’t seem fair to put a child in the position of having to rule a country. He’ll never be able to choose what he wants to do or who he wants to be. Everything is decided for him and it just feels so wrong.”

Liam weighed her words thoughtfully. “As someone who grew up in very similar circumstances, I can attest that the responsibility is less strange when it is all that you have known. I find there is some comfort in not having to choose every aspect of your life.” He trailed off before continuing. “And I think you’re forgetting a good many things that he will have, like a mother and father who love him dearly and know best how to shield him from the darker side of this lifestyle.”

“I suppose you’re right.” She tried to sound hopeful, but knew better than to think it was enough to convince her husband.

“Here,” he unfolded his legs and stood up. “Since neither of us plans to fall back asleep, I’d suggest moving somewhere more comfortable.”

Eliza stood, taking the hand that was extended to her as she followed her husband out of the nursery and toward their living room. Liam led her to the large chair in the corner, and she reached out to place a steadying hand on the arm. Knowing that she would inevitably take her place on his lap, she waited for him to sit first.

“I’m going to make some coffee,” he announced. There was a strange clicking noise, and a smirk tugged her lips as she identified it. Liam had always struggled with that silly lamp, especially in the dark.

Light swept over the room and she met his gaze, blinking a couple of times to hurry the adjustment from darkness. He stood waiting, so she answered his unspoken question. “I would love some tea, thank you.”

This was only a half truth. They both knew she wanted coffee, but mint rooibos had been her drink of choice for the last several months. At first, Liam had joined her program of abstinence, but she’d put an end to it when she caught him fighting back yawns over the trade proposals he was reviewing. There wasn’t any reason both of them should have to suffer when his caffeine addiction had no bearing whatsoever on the baby’s health.

Liam returned soon after, placing two steaming mugs beside a small potted plant on the end table. He sat in the oversized chair, motioning for her to follow. She took her accustomed place, leaning against him at an angle so that she could access the tea more easily. 

“Tell me what worries you, my love.” The soft invitation resonated in the quiet room.

Eliza sighed, trying to compress her feelings into the confines of speech. There were several faltering attempts before she decided on a course. “I’m scared that he won’t have a childhood. That someday I’ll find him hiding in Applewood because he doesn’t want to return to life at the palace.” She grew quiet as another fear presented itself. “And I’m terrified that I don’t even know what a normal childhood looks like. My life wasn’t anywhere near as complicated as yours, but being orphaned and going to live with a grandmother at eighteen months old is hardly ideal. Neither one of us really knows what childhood is supposed to be.”

“Then we’ll make it whatever we want it to be.”

His words should have been a comfort, but instead they brought on a wave of frustration that fizzled through her like an electric current. “But just saying that doesn’t help anything, Liam! We both know we won’t have that kind of freedom. There are going to be so many things beyond our control...” She felt his sigh against the bare skin at her collarbone. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap like that. I think I’m just tired.”

“I only meant to help quiet your fears. Perhaps we should try another tactic.” He shifted, pulling her against his chest so that he could press a kiss to her temple. She nestled into the warmth of his skin, the contact bringing much ease. “As you say, we’re not going to be able to control everything, so maybe we should focus on things that are within our control. What’s something you’re looking forward to?”

Startled though she was by the shifting topic, months of dreaming had equipped her with a ready response. “All of the gummy smiles and giggles,” she revealed. “I want to know what he looks like when he’s smiling.” The grainy image from her last ultrasound passed before her mind’s eye. It was incredible how much she already loved that blurry face.

“So do I,” he agreed. “And I can’t wait to see you holding our baby in your arms. I’ve actually started having dreams about it.”

This last confession removed much of her earlier annoyance. “Really?”

“Only a couple of times, but it’s been enough to put it in my mind.”

“Meanwhile, I’m stuck with dreams that I’m going into labor during the Christmas Ball.” Nevermind that the event had passed two weeks before, rendering the nightmare impossible.

“Ah, yes. You were giving birth in the hedge maze, if I remember correctly.”

“It alternates between the maze and the top of the Eiffel Tower. I’m not sure which is worse, honestly. I think it’s just my mind trying to make the real birth seem easy by comparison.”

“Perhaps.” She could feel him reaching for his mug and followed suit, taking a long sip from her own drink. As she replaced her mug, a spasm seized her lower back. Eliza shifted her weight, testing the alternatives, but nothing seemed to help.

“Would it help to sit another way?” Liam offered, conscious of her struggle.

“Maybe.” She pulled her legs from the ottoman and made a ninety-degree turn so that her back rested against the arm of the chair. Eliza draped one arm across the headrest, ghosting her fingers across Liam’s shoulders and neck. In her lap, she cradled her mug of tea. “This is better,” she assured him with a smile.

“I’m certainly not going to complain.” He ran a thumb along her cheekbone, his eyes tender as he returned her grin. “What else are you looking forward to?”

“Hearing you sing and play lullabies on your guitar,” she mused, swilling her tea. It wasn’t something they had talked about, and some part of her felt sheepish for bringing it up.

She glanced up at the sound of her husband’s laughter. “I may put him off of music entirely, Eliza. I think your singing would be a more likely success.”

“You’re better than you give yourself credit for.” Granted, she had only heard him play on one occasion, and she’d made for a rather biased audience, but she had been impressed by his even pitch and the rich quality of his voice as he’d sung along to the simple chords.

His mouth opened to protest, but she gave in before he could make a reply. “We can try both.”

They went on like this for the better part of the next hour, trading hopes and desires. Soothing him back to sleep when he wakes up in the middle of the night. Reading to him before bed. Teaching him to play maze tag. The winter sky gave little indication of the passing time, but they both knew that morning was quickly approaching.

“Your alarm will be ringing soon,” she intoned, running long fingers across the stubble on his cheek.

“I’ll skip my shower this morning if I need to,” he suggested, threading his fingers through her hair.

Eliza’s nose wrinkled in response. “You’d better not.”

“You know I won’t.” In the half light, she just caught the flecks of gold in his laughing eyes before his expression turned serious. “No matter what, you and our child are my priority. If that means postponing an appointment to be certain that you’re all right, I will do it.”

A familiar warmth came over her. His willingness to make sacrifices for her always felt like so much more than she deserved. “I’m much better now, Liam.”

“Truly?” 

“I promise. My fears are worst in the night. During the day, I have far too many other things on my mind to be able to dwell on them.” She wanted to say more, but a steady beeping cut her off from down the hall. “I guess it’s time to get up.” Eliza began to pull away, but Liam held her against him with an insistent arm. 

With his free hand, he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as he met her gaze. “Eliza, I don’t pretend that things will always be easy, but I am committed to making sure that our son has a proper childhood that’s filled with all of the dreams we have for him. No amount of press attention or royal responsibility can take those things away from us.”

“I know.” And for the first time in months, she really did. 

[starswornoaths]

Fetters of the Mind

Alternative title: Depression is a Bitch

I mostly wrote this earlier in the week when I had a day like this. If you needed Aymeric telling you it's going to be okay, just pretend this isn't about Serella ; ;

 I need to get up, Serella told herself for what felt like the hundredth time in the last hour.

There were people who would doubtless have need of her today—because when didn’t they, she thought with a grumble—and she had much to do besides. The knowledge of that did not provoke her into action as it might have on another day.

She was…tired in a way that she had not been for some time. Tired in a bone deep, spiritual sense that moved beyond the physical—though she was also physically tired despite getting a rare full night’s worth of sleep.

She felt as though she were fettered to the mattress, weighed down by something she couldn’t see sitting on her chest. It was hard to breathe, even as she struggled to understand why. Something akin to fever—because it couldn’t just be a fever and she was fine, she told herself— warmed her head and made her uncomfortable, her thoughts hazy.

She had been fighting off a mild cold, she knew, but this was…different. Sure, her head felt like someone forcibly shoved cotton bolls inside her skull but this was a darker, more insidious ache that had gripped her bones.

Even as she knew that she had to get up, she burrowed under the blankets with a weary sigh. The simple act of opening her eyes exhausted her, so she simply lied there, awake but not present.

The house creaked under the harsh, frigid winds outside, and though it tired her she shivered from under the blanket. She should get up to add logs to the furnace, or at least stoke a fire in the fireplace downstairs. Even through the duvet she could feel a chill settle in the house. She’d have to be the one to do it—Aymeric had left for work some hours ago.

The thought of him working himself sick as he always did while she lie there caused guilt to slither uncomfortably in her gut. Her trauma was not so bad as his, and doubtless his own emotional damage from the things inflicted upon him in his life caused him no small amount of trouble, and yet he still got up and dealt with it today. Here she lie wallowing for not feeling good.

Stupid. Weak. She berated herself, even as she couldn’t scrape together the energy to move.

From downstairs, Rhalgr let out a loud, yowling mraw, doubtless to alert her that he required feeding. Her ears picked up Vardr padding impatiently on the main floor along with his sibling, and would doubtless come to hound her for food in the next few minutes if she didn’t feed them.

With herculean effort, Serella pulled herself out of bed and trudged down the stairs—if she couldn’t take care of herself, she could at least take care of those that relied on her.

What about everyone else that relies on you? Guilt hissed.

What indeed, apathy replied.

Still, since she was up she might as well tend to the furnace like she knew she should. She could do that much, surely.

Her pets were fed, though her mental state must have been evident even to them, as they looked at her curiously when she did not lavish them with more affection beyond a few pets. While she was thinking on it, Vardr needed to be let out—she couldn’t imagine that Aymeric had the time to do it this morning before he had to run to work.

She was going outside anyway, she reminded herself as she slung a coat on and ushered her faithful companion out the front door.

She hadn’t even realized this was one of Aymeric’s coats until she picked up his scent faintly off the collar. Not bothering with the fastenings, she wrapped it tightly around herself and breathed as deeply as she could to glean what comfort there was to be had from his scent. As Vardr trotted nearby in search of a good place to relieve himself, Serella dragged herself to the furnace.

She saw that there was more wood chopped and lined up for use than there had been last she checked—Aymeric or Uthen’s doing, most like. Perhaps a combination of the two, and she simply hadn’t paid it any attention. In a better state of mind she would make a note to herself to thank them.

She was just glad she didn’t have to relight the furnace and had recently cleaned its flute, as she needed only to toss in a couple of logs and shut the door.

Frostbite duly delayed, Serella paused long enough for Vardr to conduct his business in the bushes before ushering him back in the house.

Her lover’s coat duly hung upon the rack again, she lingered a moment in her living room, her tired gaze drifting to the stairs leading back up to her bedroom. For how heavy her limbs felt they seemed an impossible, impassable mountain, and a part of her wondered if Aymeric minded coming home to see her passed out on the couch. Again.

Don’t be so lazy, she chastised herself, even as she was slow to climb the steps. If you’re so tired, then you should be in bed—or are you just faking it?

An absurd question to ask herself; who was she putting on this supposed theater for? Her pets?

Knowing that didn’t ease the guilt, the feeling like she was pretending. Because she was the Warrior of Light—she had stable income, a home, a loving, extensive family she had chosen for herself, and a purpose in her life. There were so many others with so much less, so why did she have the right to grouse?

Such thoughts were silly, she knew; her disposition didn’t prevent such feelings, though that knowledge didn’t prevent their intrusion in her mind all the same.

Flopping unceremoniously atop her bed and burrowing under the duvet, she closed her eyes and forced herself to sleep again. At least then her thoughts were quiet.

When she woke next, it was to the sound of the bedroom door opening. Blearily cracking her eyes open she found the room almost completely dark, save for the light flooding in from the hallway. Even as unfocused as her eyes were she recognized Aymeric’s tall frame in the doorway.

“Ella?” He said, clearly surprised. He crossed the room in long, quick strides and seated himself on the edge of the bed. “Are you alright?”

I’m alright, her usual reply instantly sprang to mind—though even when she had given the easy lie before, it had been on…better days.

“I’m just tired,” she wound up saying, voice cracking from disuse.

He tilted his head and looked at her with such concern that the guilt she had managed to forget about clamped down on her stomach again—he had enough to deal with, she didn’t need to foist her moods upon him.

“I was thinking of making tea,” Aymeric spoke up. “Would you like to have a cup with me?”

She hadn’t realized she’d foregone food and drink for the entire day until he offered. Her stomach, reminded of the hour, protested her neglect with a rumble.

“Come, dear one,” he coaxed her with a kiss to her temple. “Let us sort out dinner together, hm?”

Though her limbs still felt leaden she forced herself out of bed again—though stiffness had settled into her bones, and she figured moving around a bit would benefit her.

She tried to walk down the steps with more grace than she had managed that morning, though how successful she was remained up for debate. Aymeric didn’t comment either way, for which she was grateful. She sat on one of the stools at the counter and stretched out her legs, wincing at the loud protests of her muscles from her neglect.

“What kind would you like?” He asked, already filing through the sealed tins of the various blends she had available.

She found the question odd for him, creature of habit that he was. “Don’t you mostly drink Coerthan tea?” She asked.

“I am open to suggestion,” he answered easily with a smile over his shoulder. “You seem to have a more experienced palate for such things.”

“…Orange and cinnamon.” She answered hesitantly. “It’s sweet on its own from the oil in the orange peels.”

The curious arch of his brow told her she had his interest, and he plucked the labeled tin off the shelf with enthusiasm and took to preparing the kettle.

“Sorry,” she apologized on reflex. “I didn’t…I didn’t make anything for dinner.”

He looked at her in surprise. “You have naught to be sorry for.” He replied.

“Feel like I do,” she tried not to grumble, truly she did. “I was home all day.”

“Resting, I should hope,” he replied easily. “I am not the only one who has been worried.”

“Worried?” She parroted, straightening in her seat.

“Uthengentle came to check in on you when you did not answer your linkpearl,” he explained as he filled her boilermaster kettle with water.

Serella’s stomach dropped. “I was asleep,” she said, and hoped that he wouldn’t pry too deeply into her sleeping for almost an entire day.

“Have you been feeling ill?” He asked, flicking the switch to the kettle on and turning toward her.

“I think I’ve been fighting something off.” She latched on to the out.

He nodded but still looked concerned, peering at her from the other side of the counter.

“How can I help?” He asked—and just this once she cursed his perceptive nature.

“I don’t know.” She answered helplessly.

“That’s alright,” he said. His expression was soft as he spoke. “I am here for you,” he laid his upturned palm upon the counter in offering. “In whatever way you need me.”

She blinked down at his offered hand, surprised that he was using her own tactic for when the nightmares plagued him. It surprised her even further that she hesitated in accepting it—for how touch oriented her affection was, why did the thought of him touching her fill her with such dread? He had only ever been soft with her—what was wrong with her?

“I know,” she said, and she felt like she was tainting him when she brushed her fingers along his to coax his hand into closing. “I-I’m sorry—“

“Ella, look at me.” Aymeric spoke patiently.

Feeling keenly aware of the reversal of roles, she swallowed the lump in her throat and did as he asked. He regarded her with a soft but worried smile.

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” He said with emphasis slow and sweet like honey dripping from his lips.

“Alright,” Serella said, and almost to herself added, “I’ll…I’ll be alright.”

“I know.” Aymeric said, pouring her tea in her favorite chipped green mug. “I will be here regardless, love.”

“Thank you.” She said, for the tea and his tenderness both.

Dinner wound up being an entirely indulgent affair of sliced meat, cheese, and some freshly baked bread Aymeric was kind enough to make.

The second they situated themselves on the couch their pets were on them in an instant, Vardr warming their feet while Rhalgr sat stubbornly in Serella’s lap. While grateful for their comfort, she made a point to keep her plate well out of Rhalgr’s reach as she nibbled.

Their conversation was about anything but what was bothering her—because she still didn’t really know besides—and she was glad for it. She was glad for him.  

She was glad for all of her boys, she amended after supper when they laid in bed together. A little less touch averse after having some food and drink in her system, she laced her fingers with his and tried not to laugh when Vardr flopped down and took up much of the bed so they wound up pressed together regardless. Rhalgr, doubtless aware of his mistress’ distress, molded himself to the curve of her hip and promptly began a mix of snores and purrs that only a cat could accomplish. She felt herself smile as a softer sort of exhaustion overcame her. Her eyes drifted shut.

“I love you,” she heard Aymeric say.

“And I love you.” She answered without thought.

She felt him squeeze her hand as she drifted, aimlessly, into slumber. She hoped he knew how much he meant to her, even in her darker days.