#gale's expressions were so fun to draw

[whenthewallfell]

~ I Got Them Quarter Quell Blues ~

[obsessedwhyyes]

The Learned Observer

Fic Request: Voyeurism

Summary: On a sleepless night, Gale notices the distinct sound of hushed voices outside his tent. It couldn't be you and Astarion… could it? When he decides to take a peek - to satisfy his scholarly curiosity, of course - he gets more than he bargained for.

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 2623 Pairing: Astarion x Fem!Reader, implied Astarion x Gale x Fem!Reader Content: Gale's POV (first person), voyeurism, dry humping, handjob, public sex, male masturbation, a little bit of jealousy.

A/N: Gale, in my humble opinion, would not use the word, “cock.” I cannot express how hard it was to not use the word, "cock" in a smut fic. I frigging love that word. Anyways, writing entirely in Gale’s voice was honestly the most fun mini challenge I’ve set myself so far, and I would gladly do first person BG3 companion POVs again. Thank you, dear anon, for the request!

Another sleepless night.

The orb pulses beneath my skin, each throb a reminder of my predicament.

I implore my mind to wander to the events of our journey, to the challenges that lie ahead, in pursuit of a worthwhile distraction. But the orb’s hunger grows stronger, like a raging maelstrom, each tribute to its insistent pull a mere ripple against the tide of its endless consumption. Perhaps I should consult the others about–

… Voices drift from outside my tent before I can finish my thoughts. Curious.

Hushed laughter and whispered words. Astarion's distinctive timbre and… you.

The sound is soft, subtle - a quiet exchange. Yet, here I am, catching fragments of something private, something perhaps not intended for outside ears.

I shift, the faintest spark of curiosity pulling me from my solitude. It's innocent, surely - a late-night conversation, perhaps a shared joke. And yet, as the moments pass, I can't ignore the intimacy in your laughter, the way Astarion's voice drops to that silken murmur he reserves for his attempts at enticement.

Just a glance, I tell myself. Merely to understand what could be so amusing at this hour.

Slowly, carefully, I draw back a sliver of canvas, just enough to peek through.

My breath catches as my eyes adjust to the firelight outside. There, on the other side of the campfire, resting against a fallen log, you sit beside him, close - very close - your faces inches apart.

Your legs are entwined, and there’s an intensity in the way you look at each other. I’m taken aback by the hunger in the kiss that follows - one neither timid nor restrained. Your hands begin to explore each other with what I can only call fervour - the kind of urgency I hadn't known either of you possessed, let alone with each other. 

The way you move together speaks of raw desire rather than tender affection - this is clearly a new physical relationship.

When did this start? How did I miss the signs? Though perhaps I was too caught up in my own concerns to notice the lingering glances, the way you always seemed to find reasons to be near each other…

I tell myself it’s simple curiosity that keeps me here, observing. A certain academic interest, if you will. After all, Astarion has always been something of a hedonist - a man who indulges in his desires with a recklessness I sometimes envy, though rarely approve. But to see him like this - in action, as it were - offers a unique perspective on his character.

You murmur something I cannot make out, a teasing lilt in your voice, and Astarion laughs in that rakish, honeyed tone of his, as though thrilled to have you so wholly entranced. His hands grip your waist, and with a practised grace, he pulls you into his lap, the hem of your skirt spilling around you both. As his hands settle on your hips, you grind against what I can only assume to be a prominent hardness in his trousers, judging by the satisfied smirk on his face. 

You seem eager, pliant under his touch, responding in ways I confess I hadn’t thought you capable of - no, not like this. Not with him.

My heart hammers in my chest, a tension spreading through me that’s… increasingly difficult to ignore. And yet, I remind myself, this is mere observation, nothing more. A clinical exercise in understanding the intricacies of interpersonal attractions between a vampire and a mortal; the undercurrent of danger that befalls such an arrangement.

He holds you with a blend of confidence and entitlement that borders on decadent, his mouth at your neck, lips brushing against your skin with a maddening leisure that’s somehow indulgent and teasing all at once. His fangs linger there and, for a moment, my heart stops - surely he wouldn’t… Ah, no. No, he’s not feeding. He merely kisses your neck, fangs scraping lightly against your throat - close enough to tempt and tantalise. I see the goosebumps flare on your skin.

He whispers something low and unintelligible, and you let out a soft giggle, yielding in a way that speaks of trust - trust that’s he’s earned, somehow, despite his nature.

And then your hand drifts between you both, touching him through his trousers.

Gosh. I hadn’t thought you so bold.

Astarion’s body arches into your touch, his gaze darkening as he watches you with a hunger that’s both terrifying and… strangely beautiful. I find myself entranced, my breath shallow as I observe the way your fingers trace over him, the way he leans into you. The noise he makes when your fingers flex, squeezing him gently over the fabric��� Gracious. 

There’s a strange, reluctant curiosity building within me. I should look away. I should grant you both the privacy you likely assume you have. And yet, my gaze remains fixed, drawn to the details of your encounter: the way his hands tighten on your waist, the way your breaths synchronise, the way he murmurs softly into your ear…

I am aware - painfully so - of the ache low in my body that has built with each passing moment, each glance, each touch. I am no stranger to restraint - I have spent years tempering my desires, sacrificing comforts in the pursuit of knowledge, of power. Yet, here, now, I feel that restraint begin to falter; to dissolve like ink in water, dispersing until it is all but unrecognisable. It has been so long, after all. So, so long.

When your hands move to the waistband of his trousers, my breath catches. Gods above, surely you won't, not out in the open... but yes. Yes, it seems you will.

When you pull him free, well - I’ve always wondered about vampire physiology, purely academically, of course. But the sight of him prompts rather less scholarly thoughts. He’s impressively endowed - perhaps it is wishful thinking to believe that this is but another gift of his condition. It’s fascinating how vampiric transformation affects every part of the body - he’s almost luminescent in the firelight, every inch of him perfect and unmarred. I notice the veins that trace along his length, faintly visible beneath his skin. He is, even now, a study in confidence, exuding a subtle power that one can only achieve when utterly comfortable in one’s own skin.

Your hand wraps around him, sliding up and down his length at a teasing pace, drawing forth a sound I have never heard our pale companion make - a soft, broken gasp, caught somewhere between a moan and a sigh. It sounds almost reluctant, as though he hadn’t meant for such a sound to slip past his lips. He twitches under your ministrations, and his grip on your hips tightens enough that there will surely be bruises tomorrow.

My fingers rest at my thigh, trembling ever so slightly. A small part of me - a remnant of reason, perhaps - tells me to pull back, to look away, to let this moment pass without surrendering to the need that has taken root within me. But my body, the traitorous thing it is, does not heed such commands. Instead, I find my hand drifting lower.

My fingers trace over the fabric of my trousers, over the aching hardness beneath. A gentle palming, barely enough to ease the tension that coils tighter with each passing moment as I watch the scene unfold.

Your hands elicit quiet murmurs from Astarion that grow deeper and more insistent with each passing moment. For a moment, the two of you share a look - one of conspiratorial mischief, perhaps - and then a soft, shared giggle, the sound mingling with the crackling of the fire. 

You're so utterly engrossed in him; so utterly unselfconscious.

You shift, a question in your eyes, and as he nods, giving his assent, you rise just enough to shift, positioning yourself over him. Your skirts drape around you both, providing a veneer of modesty, though there's no mistaking what follows when you sink yourself down on to him. The way your lips part in a gasp as he enters you, the way his head falls back with a victorious grin - it makes the tightness, the great ache between my legs, almost unbearable.

I find my hand slipping beneath my waistband.

Just a little relief, I tell myself. Just enough to ease this maddening tension.

There is a certain poetry to it, I suppose - this surrender to the pleasures of the flesh. I allow myself to imagine, as my hand finds the throbbing heat of my arousal, what it might feel to be in your place, to have someone look at me with that same confidence, to experience touch imbued with the certainty of one who knows precisely how to elicit pleasure - a knowledge gleaned from centuries, no doubt, of indulgence and conquest.

It’s enough to leave me aching for more than mere observation.

The fervour with which you move against him… it’s hypnotic, each roll of your hips drawing forth increasingly wanton sounds from you both. Astarion's carefully crafted demeanour gives way to something more roguish, a playful daring that glints in his eyes as you rise and fall and rise and fall on his length.

I find my hand instinctively matching your rhythm, every shift and motion, as though I, too, am bound to the undulating tempo that you and Astarion have created.

Gods… what must it be like to be him? To have someone so openly, eagerly drawn to you, meeting every touch with matching fervour? To hold someone close and feel their raw desire, the thrill of each laugh, each gasp, offered without hesitation? I wonder what it must be like to inspire such a response, to be desired so freely, without need for pretence or restraint?

With Mystra, I was ever the pursuer, striving tirelessly to earn even the barest hint of her approval, each moment together feeling like an examination I desperately hoped to pass. But Astarion… well. He needn't chase or convince. Despite his vampiric nature - or perhaps, in part, because of it - he is simply desired, freely given all that I once had to beg for. The inequity of it all would be rather poetic, if it weren't so personally vexing.

“A-ah!”

Your gasp cuts through my ruminations, pulling me back into the scene.

Astarion’s hand has slipped between you, guiding you to that final crescendo with a practised touch. The sight of it is utterly spellbinding: his fingers moving with a precision that speaks to centuries of experience, knowing just where to press, where to linger. The control he exercises over you is enviable, each movement of his hand coaxing you closer to that peak, his attention wholly focused on your reaction, even as your hips rock back and forth on his length with an increasingly frantic, unrestrained urgency.

The way your eyes roll back... Gosh.

The expression on your face, one of pure, unfiltered abandon, is a sight to behold.

Your body trembles as you reach your peak, and a sound - a cry, too loud in the stillness of the night - escapes your lips. Astarion’s palm clamps over your mouth, a futile attempt to muffle you in the throes of your climax. Though he hushes you, his expression suggests that he is not in the least bit concerned. In fact, he seems rather pleased - more than pleased, really. 

There’s a thrill in such a public display for him too, no doubt.

I swallow, the sound almost too loud, my heart pounding against my ribs as though it seeks to betray me. Astarion's head tilts slightly, his gaze flickering to the shadows, and for one heart-stopping moment, I think he has sensed me, that his attention has shifted from you to this invisible interloper, the scholar caught red-handed in his quiet act of voyeurism.

Could he... sense me here, lingering on the fringe of his private moment? Could he smell the stir of my own arousal, feel the faint tremor of my breath as I fight for composure? For several heartbeats, my hand freezes. I dare not even breathe.

But then his attentions return to you, and I breathe a sigh of relief. 

He brings his hands to your hips, holding them firmly in place as he drives himself upwards into you, deeper, with mounting desperation. It seems he seeks to chase his own release, content with the pleasure he has wrought you.

You respond eagerly, pressing closer, your own sounds growing louder, heedless of who might hear, and I can see that thrill in his face - the satisfaction of knowing he’s eliciting every reaction from you, drawing out each gasp, each shudder.

My hand glides hastily across my arousal, my own breathing growing ragged as I watch his control begin to slip. Even from here, I can see the tension in his shoulders, the way his head tips back in pure abandon.

In the final throes, he presses himself against you, buried firmly to the hilt. It’s almost animalistic, all thoughts, all calculated movements, making way for one singular goal: to empty himself into you, filling you with all he has to offer with breaths rugged and low. All composure is stripped, replaced with instinct and pure need.

I find my own movements quickening to match his pace, as though some invisible thread binds us all to this moment. My hand tightens as I lose myself in the same tempo, every sound from you both spurring me closer. The sight of his final shudder, the look of utter satisfaction crossing his face as he reaches that height, is enough to tip me over the edge.

For a heartbeat, the night seems to hold us all in perfect suspension - your quiet gasps, his satisfied murmurs, my own silent echo of shared pleasure - all woven together in this clandestine tableau.

Only then, as the euphoria begins to fade, does a most uncomfortable awareness creep in.

Gods above, what have I... A scholar of worldly acclaim, reduced to voyeur, caught up in base desires like some common... No. Best not to dwell on such things. Though I suspect sleep will prove rather elusive tonight, haunted by questions of propriety and... other matters.

With a groan, I roll onto my back, the orb’s steady throb now a minor annoyance compared to the tangled thoughts that flood my mind. Perhaps I can chalk this entire… incident up to fatigue, a wandering mind, even a fevered dream. Yes, that must be it. The product of a restless night and, possibly, a touch of indigestion. After all, who could believe that I, Gale of Waterdeep, would be brought so low as to... well, that.

As morning light spills across camp, I attempt a façade of normalcy, willing my cheeks to cool and my mind to settle. Just as I convince myself the night’s events were nothing more than a peculiar dream, Astarion sidles up, his expression one of leisurely amusement.

"Restless night, Gale?” he murmurs, just loud enough for me to hear. His gaze is as sharp as his tone, a knowing glint in his eyes that makes my stomach twist in the most uncomfortable way. "I thought I heard a... stirring from your tent."

The corner of his mouth quirks up in that infuriatingly smug way of his, and I nearly choke on my response. 

He knew. 

Astarion knew. 

I force a cough, pretending to inspect the morning sky.

"A dream," I reply a bit too quickly. "Perhaps the cheese at dinner was... overly ripe."

But Astarion merely chuckles, a wicked sound, before strolling away with a satisfied air. And as I watch him saunter off, I’m left to question just how much of the night was a dream - and how much, mortifyingly, was very, very real.

Masterlist can be found here!

No Pressure Tags: @roguishcat @davenswitcher @silverfangmarks @sparrowbard @chonkercatto @stokzr @trafalgarussy @asterordinary

[everestgale]

Long Post about EG's Voice Designs

Unrelated Hero being adorable just so above-cut is not all text lol

Gale woke up one morning, felt nostalgic, and wanted to ramble. Therefore, Gale decided to ramble about their voice designs.

Warning: this will be a very long, just barely coherent post, where I just talk about the evolution of my voice designs. It will include a lot of old art, sketches, and side tangents. More than anything, this is for me to look back on later, if I ever need to do that or feel like doing that.

[Post-writing EG: …uh, it's like 2000+ words worth of ramble. You've been warned.]

So, I guess I'll start at the very beginning, should I?

From the very beginning, back when I was just getting into Slay the Princess, I knew that I wanted my voices to resemble The Long Quiet as much as possible, which meant that I very quickly settled on a humanoid bird-folk with a mouthless face as the base of my designs. I knew I wouldn't be able to draw actual birds, and drawing them as humans with clothes felt too far from the original game (I tend to be quite rigid with my own headcanons and stuff, absolutely nothing wrong with giving voices clothes or making them human! In fact, sometimes I get jealous over the design expression I'm missing out on. I just tend to be quite stubborn, often to my own detriment).

Fun fact, for a while, I headcanon'd that the Long Quiet has a beak but the voices do not, and I actually used to draw them like that for a while… but I realized that I'm terrible at drawing actual bird faces with beaks. So eventually I gave in and joined the mouthless TLQ crowd (only to be technically proven wrong by P&D. Oops!)

Old TLQ sketches (January 14th, 2024)

Anyways! The very first voice designs were very small changes from a base Quiet design:

Old Hero, Broken & Stubborn drawings (January 3rd - 4th, 2024). Also, silly Everest, they didn't know they would still be obsessed with StP almost a full year later—

Hero had slightly longer head feathers and ears. Stubborn was just spikier. And Broken… well, that's when I began experimenting with making bigger changes to the original Quiet design! While still very much driven by it, I gave Broken droopy ears and plucked neck/arm feathers, something that remained consistent to this day (it's lowkey my favorite part of his design)!

Here's his current design, still as droopy as always and missing neck/arm feathers.

These three were as far as I got, however, because I quickly began running out of ideas on how to keep differentiating between voices. I don't quite remember what happened exactly (I will guess that I saw other people's voice designs and got inspired), but I started to assign real-life birds to the voices and draw design features from them.

Oh hey, owl Paranoid and cockatiel Contrarian! (January 7th, 2024)

Still very much sticking to the base Quiet design, but slowly trying to incorporate more unique features to differentiate them easier. And so it began, a rabbit hole of researching bird symbolism, behaviors, and distinguishing features, all to give each voice a bird that felt right to them. Some were easier than others (like the aforementioned cockatiel Contrarian), and others were an absolute pain (Cheated was a European robin, then a white wagtail, and then finally a house sparrow), but nonetheless, these gave me a good starting point for their designs:

Early design sketches (January 22nd, 2024)

There were… quite a few mistakes made at that stage. First, and most obvious one, is the lack of shape diversity, especially in body types, as all of my voices were basically the same generic Quiet body shape, just with a few minor height changes. It made them less dynamic and much more boring to look at, especially when I put them next to each other. Second, since these designs only drew inspiration from real-life birds, they weren't super recognizable as their own voice, if that makes sense. No iconography from the game, no other details that could help identify the voice, etc. And third… I just didn’t like about half of them. I ended up giving a small redesign to Hero, Skeptic, and Cheated as a result of the Perception Check animatic (they were all present there, so I needed designs that I didn't immediately hate). But besides that, those were the main designs I used.

A frame out of my Perception Check animatic (February 27th - March 1st, 2024). Official throwback post for it coming very soon!

After that point, I didn't do much Slay the Princess art (especially not with voices), until I rejoined the fandom right around Pristine Cut release. And let me tell you, I looked at my voice designs after a long break and wanted to cry /hj

I was NOT happy with my little guys, but I still stuck with the designs I had (or close to them) for a little while longer because I just couldn't quite figure out what I wanted to do with them, especially after such a long break. I tried to figure out what to do with them as I was doing requests and random voice interaction sketches. For some, it actually worked well (Cold, for example, got about half of his redesign as a result), but others (like Cheated, Stubborn, and Hunted) did not get any attention from me.

Random assortment of voice sketches (November 14th - 16th, 2024)

My main issue at this point was trying to figure out how much detail I wanted to add to the voices and which detail I wanted to add, too. Because my voices struggled on a fundamental shape design level, I tried to compensate by adding distinguishing details (like the weird feathers on Paranoid's chest)... but that only made these designs annoying to draw. The final tipping point was this StP Monopoly post that I spent too many hours on, battling against my own designs. I got fed up with being unhappy with them. And so, it began.

I still very much wanted to use my old designs as a base because even though I wasn't happy with them, there was a certain charm to them that I would've hated to get rid of completely (I'm a very sentimental person when it comes to stuff like that). And so with that, armed with about 18 million references, including but not limited to game screenshots, real-life birds, and other people's voice designs, I began working on the silhouettes:

Actually, the first step was to figure out how tall my voices were. I used this website to help me visualize it, and I'm now realizing that they're quite tall. Except Opportunist, sorry not sorry Opportunist.

Voice silhouettes (November 24th - 26th, 2024). I will still cry over how much trouble Smitten gave me. His silhouette had about 5 different revisions, before I finally arrived at something I liked.

Why silhouettes? Well, it's a large cast of characters, and I wanted them all to be distinct, so shape language and sizes and clarity of silhouette were the most important at this stage. I already had a pretty good idea of what kind of design elements I wanted to add, so the goal was to make sure these elements had a good base, if that makes sense. Though, I couldn't resist sketching some of those details at that stage, just to see if it matched what I imagined.

I wish I had some clever reasoning for why the voices are specific size/shape/etc, but for many of them, it was based entirely on vibes and personal preferences. The only ones that had some sort of thematic reasoning for their silhouettes were Cold (I wanted him to be very tall and extremely thin, to kind of mimic a skeleton) and Cheated (the goal was to make him as sharp and spikey as possible since the Razor is his Chapter II princess). The rest? Purely aesthetics/preference/vibes. I wanted Smitten to be large and round. I wanted Paranoid to be very fluffy. I wanted Opportunist to be the shortest voice in my entire lineup (sorry not sorry Opportunist [2]). That's pretty much it lol

Anyways! Once the silhouettes were all done, it was a matter of translating all of my random notes, and ideas, and old design elements into the final lineup.

There were three key considerations when I was creating all of my voice designs, and I tried to keep them all in mind as I was drawing these:

Simplicity - I knew I would be drawing these guys over and over again, so I wanted to make sure my designs as easily recreatable as possible.

Recognizability - how easy is it to identify the voice correctly (i.e. differentiating between, say, Hunted and Paranoid or Cheated and Stubborn by looks alone)

Random nonsense - how many small details, parallels, silly references, and "this looks cool"s can I put into design while keeping 1 and 2 true.

…because nothing brings me more joy than sneaking the dumbest references and jokes into my designs. Cold's little chest feathers are a great example of that, and I will definitely talk about it one day.

Some of my favorite design elements are different little parallels these designs have to each other (especially Stranger pairs) and to their respective Chapter II princesses:

Stubborn & Broken have a bright red accent in their design, practically the only similarity in their design, indicating that they don't have much in common, except for the passion they show in their respective routes. Stubborn also got horns from the Adversary and the general rough/tattered leg feathers. Broken couldn't borrow elements from the Tower directly, but he got feathers resembling a wimple/neck piece that nuns usually wear, and his bright red chest feathers also work as a stab wound.

Skeptic & Smitten also don't have a lot in common, but they both have a shoulder shawl, working almost as a layer of separation between them and the world they inhabit, as both can be very stuck in their ways / unwilling to see past their point of view. Skeptic got a shackle similar to the Prisoner's, while Smitten's arm feathers are supposed to resemble the Damsel's frilly sleeves!

Opportunist & Hunted are both most animal-like, with Opportunist resembling a cat (for the Witch) or rat (because that's who he is), while Hunted looks like a hare. I also tried to keep their designs most organic in terms of flow, but I'm not sure I succeeded with that. Opportunist was a fun (and difficult) one to try to mirror the Witch, I ended up giving him spiky feathers resembling the Witch's tattered skirt and sticks/debris pointing out of his feathers! Hunted was much simpler and just got the same bandages the Beast has :] That is also how trans Hunted was born if you were curious.

Cheated & Contrarian are, quite simply, both falling apart to various degrees. Cheated's stitches were designed first, along with his very sharp/spiky design, to go along with the Razor. Then Contrarian followed suit, gaining his cracks to mirror both Cheated and Stranger. I've talked enough about this already lol

And then there were Cold and Paranoid. Oh, the problem children. They used to share whispy ghost-like leg feathers (which you can see in the silhouette designs), but I hated how they looked on Paranoid, so I changed it to fit with his fluffy owl aesthetic better. Works better as a whole for his design, but now these two have almost nothing in common, outside of the darker, textured/feathered sleeves (which is not enough of a distinguishing feature). But in it's own way, it makes sense for my voice designs to end up like this, as I personally have very complicated and mixed feelings on the relationship between Cold and Paranoid. But I do like the overall ghostly skeleton-like look I gave Cold to mirror the Spectre (a large X on his chest also helps to identify him), and gloves on my Paranoid to go along with Nightmare's is probably one of my favorite design elements of them all.

Oh, and of course, Hero. Hero was somehow the easiest and the hardest to design. The easiest, because I wanted him to share a lot of features with the Long Quiet (since he is our first voice and all), so a lot of the decision-making was already done for me. The hardest, because that meant I only had very limited features that I could exaggerate or add to distinguish him from my Quiet in the first place. And so I went with the "exaggerate the hell out of existing features" route, turning Hero's face/head feathers into more of a crown/visor shape… and also giving him long hair. Why did I give my Hero long hair? To be honest, this one started on a complete whim, I tried it out when I was making a silhouette for Hero, and I kind of fell in love with how it looked. It ended up working out because it kind of looks like a lion's mane, symbolizing courage, strength, and justice. But I assure you, it's not how it started lol

Did I succeed with my designs? Well, not quite - some designs are more difficult to draw than others (looking at you, Stubborn), and others lack distinctive details that identify them as that voice (looking at you, Paranoid). But I am quite happy with them as a whole. It was a great exercise in character design for me, and I love my silly birds dearly, so I'm just glad to have designs I don't hate drawing <3

Though, I am now very tempted to do an alternative version that does have them wear clothes. Just for the fun of it. Maybe I'll do it. Maybe I won't. If I do, my Contrarian is going to rock a very pretty dress.

Anyways! If you got this far into this post, thank you so much for reading it!! I just really wanted to ramble about my voices, how much they've changed, and, honestly, how proud I am of how far they've come from their original concepts. My lads are certainly not as intricately designed as some of the other folks I see around here (stares at Sonja and Polite), but I like them, I like drawing them, and that's what matters to me <3

Thanks again for reading my endless ramble, hope you have a great day!

[eluvisen]

Truce

Fandom: Baldur’s Gate 3

Characters: Karlach/Tav

Rating: T

Summary: It may or may not be a mistake falling in with these lunatics, but at least they look like fun. And one of them in particular looks like fun.

(Karlach’s first night in camp, as told by her.)

Notes: Written for Femslash February 2024. Prompt: once upon a time.

—

Wreathed in smoke and infernal fire, Karlach laughs as the tollhouse burns. Gouts of fire tower on all sides, devouring everything in their path and scorching her throat with every breath. But the inferno is fucking nothing compared to the hellfire inside her. The engine shudders behind her ribs, its vibrations ribboning down her torso and all the way through her guts, so hot and furious it feels like someone poured the magma from one of Avernus’s volcanoes directly into her chest.

With several swings of her axe and a swift kick, she bashes through the debris blocking the door. But past the shower of cinders and ash, the sky is blue. The sky is blue, and when she steps outside, the air is clean.

To her surprise, that gang of adventurers are waiting around. Away from the flames, mind, but waiting.

Karlach strides over, greataxe resting on her shoulder. The metal burns, but she burns hotter. “Hope you didn’t take much of a scorching in there. I had to let off some steam after facing those imp-fuckers.”

The engine thunders in her chest, feeling like a burr made of lava that she can’t cough out. Bloody thing isn’t cooling down. Seems it isn’t made to work outside Avernus, which means she needs to find an infernal mechanic. Fast. 

The rogue smiles at her without showing his teeth. “Only mild burns and the immediate threat of immolation, darling.” There’s something about him that makes her want to keep him in sight at all times, and not just for the safety of her coin purse. He isn’t infernal, she can tell that much. Maybe it’s his hair putting her off. “I don’t suppose you’ll reimburse us for spilling their guts on your behalf?”

Karlach snorts. “You didn’t kill them for me, you killed them with me. And I’m afraid I left my soul coins in Avernus. Could give you a hug if you wanted, though.”

His smile twists into something darker. “What a pity. I hear soul coins are especially valuable currency, and this isn’t a charity.”

“Strange,” says the walking fringe. She stays at the edges like a regular cleric, but there’s something… tricky about her. Yeah, that’s the word. Tricky. “I thought we were a charity. Why else would you be here, Astarion?”

Rhodeia, meanwhile, wears the perfectly pleasant expression of someone who’s mentally screaming into the Abyss. Making firm eye contact with Karlach, she says, “Since we all need a cure for these mind flayer parasites, you’re welcome to come with us.”

The rest of the party look just as loony. The githyanki undoubtedly draws eyes, and it’s a tossup whether her bloody huge greatsword or her scowl is the scarier weapon in her arsenal. Then there’s good man Gale. If he couldn’t conjure such a wicked scorching ray, she’d assume he’s a lost librarian. Or maybe libraries are more interesting places than she thought. At least the Blade of Frontiers is pointing his namesake elsewhere, although he sure doesn’t look pleased by current events. She’ll have to keep an eye on him. 

All in all? A group of miserable, argumentative misfits.

Gods, to be one of them.

Karlach opens her mouth. Hesitates. “There’s no contract, is there?”

“No,” Rhodeia answers, so perfectly startled that either she means it or she could give Flo a run for her coins. 

“Then fuck yes I’m in.”

Rhodeia smiles, and her expression is brilliantly, unnervingly genuine-looking. She has to be a half-elf—she’s got the ears, but her features are just a little too blunt to be a timeless beauty. Not to say she isn’t a looker, with freckles dusting her light brown skin and plump lips. In the sunlight, Karlach notices for the first time that Rhodeia’s eyes are a dusty mauve, as pretty as cut gems—definitely inherited those from the elven parent—and matching the hair falling down her back in intricate braids. Pale tattooed vines frame her face and curl invitingly down her neck to the collar of her leathers, raising the question of just how far they go down, exactly.

But that is a question best left uncontemplated for now. Karlach hangs her greataxe on her back and sweeps an arm at the road before them. “Let’s move, eh? Time’s wasting.”

When the party sets off, Karlach falls in with them. Behind her, the tollhouse burns.

[Read on AO3]

[itsthatpearl]

Layout idea from @secret-smut-sideblog 🩸

Previous chapter

Astarion x F!OC

Dawn of Love

Chapter 4: Take Me Back To Eden

AO3 LINK

Aura and Astarion get help from a stranger that is up to no good

Word count: 1.7k

Janna once again beta read this <3

TRIGGERS: talk about past trauma, Raphael is an asshole, oral sex (F!receiving), mentions of sex, kissing, FLUFF, angst, drama.

----

The room was empty with only a few beds neatly made, Gale’s was amongst them. The sun was shining through the curtains casting lazy beams across the room. 

I absentmindedly gripped the silver hair that clung to my thigh, which was slick with sweat and other bodily fluids.

“Oh gods, yes …oh gods, don’t stop Astarion!” I moaned breath hitching as the rogue was taking me to my fourth orgasm that morning. His mouth worked me relentlessly, drawing me closer and closer to the edge.

He muttered something inaudible in between licking, not that I could’ve heard him over the slick sounds of his fingers gliding in and out of me and my own desperate moans. I took his hand into mine and squeezed it as I climaxed moaning loudly. Thank gods this room is far away from the main hall.

Astarion shifted to kiss my lips.

“Darling, you are lucky none of our companions dare to enter this room or the area around it during this time of the day” he purred.

I smiled in pure bliss and kissed his cheek.

“Do you want me to…do something nice to you?” I asked carefully. Everything was still a bit confusing to say the least. For a few days we had been sleeping with each other, but it was always him in control. I wanted to give Astarion time to trust me, so I didn’t push it much.

This time, like always, he just kissed me and smirked.

“I think we’ve had enough fun, though you are delicious. You need to eat, and you said last night that we need to continue our journey” he purred.

I nodded and stood up.

“Yeah. You are right” I smiled slightly. I just wished he would open himself up to me. But I couldn’t rush it. He needed time.

We walked downstairs together. Halsin greeted us and smiled at me warmly. Maybe they haven’t heard us at all.

“ Tsk’va , we’ve been waiting for you two” Lae’zel pouted, clearly irritated.

“And now we are here” Astarion chuckled. “How fitting, shall we?” he gestured at the door.

“Not yet. There is someone who wants to see you two” Shadowheart frowned.

“Us?” I glanced at Astarion.

“Yes, you two” a man said behind our companions. He was middle-aged, a human by the looks. “Shall we speak somewhere more private?”

We stood in a quiet corner of the inn.

“Let me introduce myself, my name is Raphael” the man purred, taking my hand into his and placing a soft kiss on it. “Pleasure to meet you, Miss Ashthorn” he smirked.

How the fuck does this man know my name?

“Quit it, devil. What business do you have with us?” Astarion’s eyes narrowed.

Devil? Is this man THE devil himself?

“Oh my little vampling, I am here merely to help you ” he grinned at Astarion, unbothered.

I blinked.

“How can you help Astarion?” I asked.

“I can read what story his back tells” he said, as if it were the simplest thing in the world.

“What do you want in return?” Astarion’s expression hardened.

Raphael’s lips turned into a wicked smile.

“Nothing big, nothing you couldn't provide me” he purred.

“State your price” Astarion said.

Raphael’s gaze fixed into me.

“One night” he said with a low, seductive tone.

“No” Astarion shook his head.

“One night… with me ?” I asked confused.

“No. She won’t do it” Astarion said.

"That’s my price" Raphael said with a shrug. "Take it or leave it”.

I straightened my posture.

"I’ll do it” I nodded.

Astarion grabbed my arm. 

"I can’t let you-" he started, but I turned to him and took his hand in mine.

"I need to, Astarion. If he knows what Cazador did to you…if he knows how to stop him…we can’t pass this up” I shook my head.

Astarion looked torn, his grip tightening.

“So? Do we have a deal?” Raphael grinned offering his hand.

“Yes” I nodded and shook it.

“Excellent. Now, shall we see that back of yours?” Raphael raised a brow at Astarion.

I could see Astarion was angry. Still he obliged and took his shirt off.

“A deal between Mephistopheles and Cazador” he smirked.

“A deal?” I asked.

“Yes. With that Cazador knows how to ascend. If he completes the ritual, he will become the most powerful vampire ever to walk on ground. A vampire ascendant will be able to be in sunlight. The price of the ritual contains a sacrifice of a multitude of souls. You, my dear vampling, are the last missing piece, your back is your destiny” he grinned.

I looked at Astarion in horror.

“That’s all I have to tell you. I’ll collect my payment later" he smirked and kissed the back of my hand once again before vanishing into thin air.

After a moment I looked at the rogue next to me.

“I can't believe you would do that for me” Astarion shook his head.

“A small price to be paid. Now we know what we needed to know” I tried to smile.

“Eventually I need to fight Cazador” Astarion sighed.

I stared him quietly.

“I will be there by your side, if you let me” I whispered after a beat.

Astarion took my hand and nodded.

“I want nothing more” he whispered.

We walked for hours after leaving the inn, the group quieter than usual, each of us lost in thought. Only the crunch of boots on earth and the whisper of the wind accompanied us.

“We should place our camp here, it’s getting dark” I told everyone. 

After a bit the camp was set and Gale was cooking for everyone with Karlach on his side telling him some kind of a story. Wyll and Halsin had gone on a walk, Lae’zel and Shadowheart were in their own tents. Astarion had gone hunting. I was sitting on a log reading a book.

“My my, you look beautiful in the dim light” a voice purred right next to my ear sending a shiver down my spine.

I turned to look at Raphael.

“Let’s get it over with” I sighed.

He tutted.

“Miss Ashthorn, you are so cold, even when your cold beloved isn't next to you” he smirked, offering his hand to me.

I sighed and took it, and in a blink of an eye we were transported to a lavish bedroom.

“Where the in the hells are we?” I asked.

“Exactly there, my darling. Now, get on the bed” he purred.

I looked at the bed and walked next to it. The duvet was dark red, made from the finest silk. I sat down on it taking a deep breath.

Raphael gave me a glass of red wine.

“Thank you” I muttered and took a sip. The rich taste flooded into my mouth. It was the best wine I had ever tried.

“Now, tell me your deepest desires, my little elf” he purred while studying me. “What do you want most in this miserable world?” he smirked.

I looked at him quietly.

“I…I want to help Astarion” I said after a beat.

Raphael’s smirk grew wider.

“Excellent. I will help you full-fill it” he purred.

I raised a brow, suspicion sneaking into my body.

“Help me? Why?” I asked.

“Let’s just say, I admire your devotion towards him” Raphael said as he swirled his wine. "But here’s the catch: you can’t tell Astarion what you learn from me” he added with a grin.

I looked at him and after a beat I nodded.

“Astarion will fight Cazador and try to become the ascendant himself” Raphael purred. “You need to help him become one” he added.

I blinked surprised.

“Why?”

“Because if he doesn’t ascend, he will always be cursed to live in the shadows. And you, my dear, will die after a few short centuries, leaving him alone” Raphael said.

I stared at him in silence.

“Do you understand?” he asked.

“I do” I whispered.

“Good. Now, I will send you back to your camp” he smirked.

“Wait what?” I asked confused. “What about the night with me?”

“Eager for it?” Raphael laughed out loud. “My little elf, I never said what would happen during it” he added, and with a snap of his fingers I was back on the log I was sitting on earlier. “Aura?!” I heard a familiar voice call from behind me.

Halsin ran towards me and hugged me.

“We were worried sick! Where have you been?” he asked.

“I was in hell with the devil” I started and stood up. “Where- where’s Astarion?!”

I entered Astarion’s tent quietly, peeking inside.

"May I come in?" I asked softly.

He sat in the darkness, his red eyes glowing faintly, watching me. I could feel the tension between us, thick and suffocating.

“He didn’t touch me, Astarion” I said.

He didn’t move.

“He fooled you, he wanted to make you jealous. Hells , he is the devil. We should’ve both known he was bluffing” I sat next to him.

For a moment we sat there quietly.

“What are we, Astarion?” I asked, my voice trembling.

Nothing.

“We aren’t dating. As far as I know, we are only sleeping with each other. I don’t know what you want, I don’t think you know what you want either” I shook my head.

Still nothing. Alright .

“Fine. I am tired of you pretending to like me, because if you did, you would be by my side, not giving…whatever this silent treatment is!” I shook my head frustrated. “You have been playing with me since the beginning” I stood up to leave.

Then cold fingers wrapped around my wrists and the darkness yanked me to sit on their lap.

Astarion’s lips kissed mine, but not in the way they used to. The kiss was soft, caring even. I melted in seconds into it as he wrapped his ams around me.

“Look, I had a plan. A nice, simple plan. Seduce you, sleep with you, manipulate your feelings so you'd never turn on me” he said. “It was easy, instinctive. Habits from two hundred years of charming people kicked in. All you had to do was fall for it. And all I had to do was not fall for you...which is where my nice, simple plan fell apart”.

I looked at the two faintly glowing eyes and I could see they weren’t completely dry.

“You…you’re incredible” he said.

I held my breath.

“You deserve something real. I want us to be something real ” he said before kissing me again.

[thedawningofthehour]

My doth theory is that this whole exploding collar thing will backfire real soon and someone important on Draxum side will end up in it (or perhaps someone from turtles side will get stuck in it?? Idk someone important will get stuck in it). Reasons why I think that:

1. Putting a bomb ON A COLLAR feels like something important. Like collar is such a visual way of doing it. It draws attention to itself

2. Idk I rewatched Evangelion Rebuild movies maybe like 3 months ago so Explosive collars made me think of it and DSS chockers so now I'm overanalysing these stupid collars

3. Tiger Claw did describe Gale getting kidnapped as "Prople wanting to see him in a collar" or something like that so maybe????

4. That's it I'm used to the fact that if it's a collar then it's propably important and if not, then at least they will let the main character wear it for a while. Like it's both visually striking and propably looks not that complicated. Perfect and easy to remember. Ofcourse you would want to put one of your main characters in it, so now people buy chockers made to look like it on ali express for cosplay.

I doubt that will actually happen, like litearlly my only lead that it will is one line that most likley means nothing, and I'm more than anything just joking about how putting something on a collar feels like a memorable visual that propably will be at least a bit imporant. And main character will wear it for a hot second to make it cosplay worthy (like litearlly in evangelion in span of 2 movies, three different main characters wore it, one at the time with the last one not even leading to much as it got just removed off her. Like she could just put her mech on autodestruct or something for it to be turned off, but nope. Collar)

Explosive collars are a pretty common trope-it even has its own TVTropes page. (not linking for people like me who will lose whole nights to it) Battle Royale used them too, and if you're a fan of The Hunger Games (new movie just came out, anyone seen it yet?) Battle Royale is absolutely a fun read.

The ones I was thinking of, however, are the slave collars from the Fallout series.

(I mean, are you fucking surprised it's Fallout-inspired?)

In the lore of Fallout, these were used in prisons and detention camps, especially on Chinese prisoners, and potentially developed for use on laborers to keep them working and obedient. (hey, it's good satire if it hits close to home) After the Great War, they were quickly co-opted by slavers. They function as an in-game enslaving mechanic, so the game doesn't have to script a whole slave-driving sequence of you leading your slaves back to slaver HQ-you literally just slap the collar on and they'll deliver themselves. It's kind of a chilling aspect of life in the wasteland, the casual cheapness and disregard for human life. Oh, and the whole Dead Money DLC where you get a bomb collar and have to navigate a resort and casino while dodging corrosive gas and radios that will interfere with your collar and set it off prematurely.

The collars that Draxum wants aren't as shoddy, and he would mostly want them for people who are around his son/responsible for keeping him safe when he's out of the house. Because he's going to have to do that at some point. He can't trust anyone's loyalty or bravery-but he can trust that they'll do everything in their power to protect him if they know their heads will be blown off the moment Galois's heart stops.

And yeah, the visual is important. The symbolism is important. A collar is inherently demeaning, demoralizing, a literal grip around one of the most important parts of your body. There's actually a guy in New Vegas that will talk about how he intentionally puts slave collars on a little too tight so it bites into a slave's neck and constantly reminds them what they are.

But at the same time, it's a barbaric tool. It would not be good PR for everyone to see Draxum's minions with these around their necks, nor would it particularly endear said minions to him. Also worth noting-slave collars are common in art and fiction because they're effective symbols of slavery, but in real life slaves usually didn't wear collars. Because slaveowners didn't want their slaves seeing how many of them there actually were and rising up against their masters. For those of you who've read ASOIAF, remember that Astapor (and to an extent Meereen) did not fall to Dany's forces or even her dragons, but to the very slaves they trained and sold.

(Draxum's heard way more about Game of Thrones than he ever cares to know)

In short-Draxum knows what he's doing, and he intends to use this tool sparingly, but wisely.

The way you phrase this implies that someone is going to cosplay my shitty fic. Though I do feel like it will be fanart opportunity.

[cursed-elo-images]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MELVYN GALE!!!

I decided to draw something special and draw multiple images of him-the main one being him in these really cute glasses I found in a couple images of him, and he looked so beautiful and pretty in them, I couldn’t resist drawing this look.

Then on the top left there’s a drawing based on an image of him looking to the side. In the top right there’s him having his surprised expression that’s derived from one of those photos of the band from 1975, when they’re posing in a surprised manner after looking at the album cover for Face the Music. And then on the bottom left is him with a neutral, slightly nervous(?) looking face. Then finally on the bottom right there’s the smiling Melvyn. I think the images that inspired these specific drawings were from Getty Images. Honestly, using them as references is just so fun because his photos are really good tbh.

[agduna-central]

First Love

An Agduna story i wrote as Secret Santa on our Agduna Discord server for @itsmecollington

I had the choice between three wishes: 1. teen Agduna sharing a sweet moment outside as the sun sets over the fjord’s water 2. teen Agduna holding hands as Gale floats them gently in the air (like in the deleted scene but relaxed) (setting is up to you!) 3. teen Agduna drinking hot chocolate and laughing together

And then i thought why not take all of them for the story. This is the result and i hope you like it. Enjoy.

***

Agnarr

Both were exhausted and stopped breathing heavily. He stood bent over and had his hands on his knees while he did not let Iduna out of his sight. Iduna, however, only wiped the sweat from her forehead and had a triumphant expression on her face. They had been playing hide and seek during the last hour, giving each other nothing. He didn't give up and kept chasing after her, touching her according to the rules of the game. But she was quick, fled from him and skillfully avoided all his attempts to pat her down. However, Iduna had help from this magical being and took advantage of this benefit mercilessly. So he was clearly at a disadvantage. She smiled at him.

"Well, have you had enough now?"

"Of course not! But let me first catch my breath a little, then we'll continue. I'll get you soon enough," he replied and looked at her with a slightly angry look. "If you didn't have the help of this...wind...thing, the whole thing would look very different, believe me."

"This wind thing, as you call it, is named Gale and is one of the four Spirits. Gale is my friend," Iduna explained to him and proudly crossed her arms in front of her chest.

He straightened up and looked at her while he slowly recovered. She was so different from the girls in Arendelle; he thought. So confident, resolved and bold. He liked her, although she behaved so disrespectfully to him, the Prince of Arendelle. But beyond that, he liked her too. She looked so sweet when she smiled.

"The way you...made Gale twirl me around in the air earlier and then let me plop to the ground in this degrading way was really unfair. You had your fun with me, it was obvious," he lamented and looked at her as determinedly as she was looking at him right now. But on the other hand, he also had a lot of fun.

This feeling of floating in the air high up near the treetops had been incredibly exciting. His heart was pounding in his chest as he looked down with nothing but air under his feet and the surrounding world revolved around him. In the end, she had given him a nudge on the nose and grinningly said "Boop!" She had clearly won the game, but he couldn't blame her for that. He wanted more of it.

Iduna just smiled and shrugged her shoulders. For a moment they just stood there and assessed each other with glances. Then he sighed.

"Do you think Gale would listen to me, too?" he asked. "I mean, can I get this Wind Spirit to make me float as you can?"

Iduna raised her eyebrows and thought for a second. Then she shook her head.

"I don't think that's possible. But I can tell him that he will just lift us both up and let us both float quietly for a while."

He nodded, "All right. But no tricks this time. Promise?"

"Promise!" she said and then shouted loudly for Gale. A moment later, leaves spun up, circled around her and played with her long hair. She giggled because it apparently tickled her neck. A few leaves now floated in front of her face, circling around an imaginary spot in the air. She held one hand next to her mouth and whispered something to the leaves that he could not understand. It looked kind of strange what she was doing. Then the leaves suddenly came towards him and he automatically took a few steps back.

'Now don't be such a coward, he thought, and stopped expectantly. A powerful air stream whirled around him and he felt the power behind it. Slowly Gale pushed him upwards and his feet came off the ground. He floated now and immediately this euphoric feeling was back. His clothes fluttered around him and the wind whizzed through his hair. He spread his arms wide and laughed. This time it went very slowly and he climbed more and more. Iduna floated up with him and, smiling, came closer at the same height. They climbed further and further and his heartbeat raced. This time, however, with joy. Then they passed the tops of the trees and were suddenly above the forest.

He hadn't expected this sight, and he hadn't imagined that they would both climb so high. Frightened, he rowed with his arms, but there was nothing to hold on to. Only air. Iduna noticed his fear and let herself be carried even closer to him. She grabbed his hands and stabilized him, giving him the support he needed. He looked at her gratefully and smiled. Then he could look around in peace. What an incredible experience; he thought. The view from up here was simply phenomenal.

The wind rustled in his ears and so he was a little louder than he wanted to be.

"That's fantastic, Iduna!" he shouted.

Iduna bent to his ear, "Not so loud, Agnarr! We don't want to draw attention to ourselves, do you hear?"

He opened his eyes and nodded violently when the situation became clear to him. No imagining what would happen if his father saw him like that. He now concentrated fully on Iduna and felt the safe, warm grip of her hands. They were now very close and their faces were only a handbreadth apart. He looked deeply into her eyes and began to sink into them. She held his gaze and smiled at him. Something was happening between the two of them as they floated silently on the spot. There was suddenly a completely new feeling inside him and he felt it in his stomach. It was like a swarm of butterflies and warmth was spreading inside.

He experienced a strong affection for her, an attraction he had never felt before. He could not name it, but he knew in that moment that he wanted to be near her all the time. A deep desire made him tilt his head towards her, but then he hesitated. He couldn't just kiss a strange girl, high up and floating in the air. Embarrassed, he lowered his gaze, saw their feet dangling freely in the air, and the ground below suddenly seemed to be infinitely far away. It would have been better if he hadn't done that now; he suddenly became aware of it, and the butterflies in his stomach had suddenly become something else. Something that wanted to go up by force, through his throat and out.

He noticed that Iduna looked at him as he began to turn green in the face, causing Gale to gently slide them both down.

"Do not look down, Agnarr! Just look at me, okay?"

He nodded and followed her advice. His grip on her hands became tighter and he swallowed hard. 'Just don't throw up now', he thought. He closed his eyes and opened them again as soon as he realized that this only made things worse. She giggled and he just found the situation even more embarrassing.

When they were back down on safe ground he took a few deep breaths in and out. A gentle breeze cooled his face and only now did he realize that he was a little cold. Unlike Iduna in her warm reindeer skin clothing, he only wore his thin city clothes and they were not made for this climate, especially not for situations like this. But slowly he started to feel better again.

"Thank you, Iduna, for this extraordinary experience! It just got a little cold up there and I could use a cup or two of hot chocolate. It warms so nicely from the inside."

Iduna looked at him questioningly, "Hot chocolate? What is it?"

"Hold on, you do not know chocolate? For real? Oh, man, you really missed something. This is the best taste you can ever imagine. Sweet and melt-in-the-mouth. As hot chocolate, it's just dreamy."

"We don't have anything like that here. Apart from honey, we don't have anything sweet here and even that we don't eat very often, because wild honey is not so easy to come by," Iduna said and shrugged her shoulders regretfully.

"We absolutely must remedy that. I can have this drink made for you in our camp. You will be thrilled," Agnarr replied eagerly, looking forward to returning the favor and spending more time with her.

But Iduna shook her head, she even looked a bit frightened; he thought as he believed to recognize in her facial expression.

"I am not allowed in your camp. If I'm seen there, I'll be in big trouble.

"Well, I'll bring you a cup of it," he said understandingly. "Just wait there at the edge of the forest for my return. It won't take very long."

Iduna swayed her head and thought for a moment. Then she finally smiled and nodded. "All right. I'll wait for you there."

"I'll be right back. I promise!" Then he turned around and hurried off.

***

Nevertheless, the following events took a completely different course and his memories became blurred. The first thing he remembered was waking up in his bed in Arendelle and the doctors of the castle taking care of him. What had happened before remained hidden from him. There was only a blurry image in his head, the face of a pretty young girl on a cart beside him, and he thought he remembered handing her a bar of chocolate.

***

Iduna

More than a month had passed and she now lived in Arendelle in the orphanage and had daily classes in the castle. She wanted to look around the town a bit more today and after that she wanted to go for a walk by the fjord.

She just had passed a store where chocolate was sold and immediately memories came back to her. Memories of a promise that unfortunately could not be kept due to the events of that time. Worse of all, Agnarr did not remember their experience together with Gale, her friend the Wind Spirit. She had recognized this from his behavior during her last encounters. Ever since he hit his head on that rock, he didn't even know who and most importantly, what she was. And it was better that way; she thought.

She walked on, deeply lost in thought, and only then did she realize that she was almost at the fjord when she arrived at the great weir wall. She looked up at the wall and saw the reddish glow in the clouds above. The sun set soon and it had already become late. But now she was already here and could just as well watch the sunset at the fjord.

She entered the gate and the city guard let her pass. Once outside, she looked around for a suitable place to sit down comfortably. But the most comfortable place seemed to be already occupied and it was the young king Agnarr, of all people, who sat there and two guards, who leaned against the wall far enough away but still within shouting distance behind him and talked.

She hesitated. Should she simply walk over to Agnarr or turn around and go back to the city? His guards had already noticed her, too, and were now looking at her suspiciously. She was already about to turn her back to the fjord when Agnarr saw her and waved to her.

"Iduna!"

The guards relaxed again, and she couldn't just walk away again now that the young king had noticed her. It would be more than just rude; she thought. She sighed softly and marched towards him with measured steps.

"Your Majesty," she said with a slight bow as she reached him, and he pointed beside her to offer her a seat. She sat down next to him on his blanket and nervousness blossomed in her. Here on the fjord the air had become quite cool at this time of day and a light breeze was tugging at her hair.

"Iduna, you know you don't have to talk to me like that when we're alone."

"I know, Agnarr. It's just because of your two guards who keep an eye on us."

He took a quick look back, smiled at her, and waved. "Don't worry about them. So you have the same idea today as I did... to enjoy the sunset on the Arenfjord. I am very happy that destiny brought us together here."

She didn't know what to answer. Sitting here with the young king on the shore made her a bit nervous. She couldn't handle him as well as she did in the forest thus admit that they had known each other for a long time and had feelings for each other. So she just nodded and looked at him a bit shyly.

Agnarr smiled. "May I perhaps offer you something to drink?" he asked and reached into a basket behind him. "It will warm us a little from the inside, now that it is already getting colder at the fjord."

"What is it?" she asked and followed his hand with her gaze. He opened the lid, took out a clay cup and handed it to her. Then he pulled out a small bulbous carafe from under a blanket in the basket and unplugged it. It steamed from the opening into the cool air above. "I love hot tea. Thank you, Agnarr," she said with a smile and held the cup out to him.

"No tea, Iduna. Much better! It's hot chocolate."

She almost dropped the mug and was speechless. He had kept his old promise and did not even know it. She stared at him and the sweet smell of chocolate wafted over to her. The taste of chocolate was familiar to her by now, he had finally given her a bar of it on the cart and it tasted heavenly. But in liquid form? She stretched out her hand and he poured the dark liquid into her cup.

She gently sipped it and then took a bigger gulp. Agnarr watched her closely and his grin grew wider and wider. "Hmm...," she hummed in delight and closed her eyes.

"Well, did I promise too much?" he asked.

"It tastes heavenly," she replied and drank the cup empty. He laughed.

"More?"

She nodded vehemently and held the cup out to him. "Aren't you drinking with us?" she asked while he gave her a refill.

"Well, I hadn't expected visitors and so I only took one drinking vessel with me. But that's no problem, I drink it quite often in the castle. But you don't seem to know it yet and I'm glad that we have the same taste. So you are welcome to drink the carafe empty while the chocolate is still warm," he said and put the vessel back into the basket.

"Thank you, Agnarr, that's sweet of you," she replied smiling and took another sip.

The sun was already very low and its reddish ball was reflected glittering in the rippling water of the fjord. It had become quiet and even the two guards had interrupted their conversation and now enjoyed the picturesque sight as much as they did.

Agnarr slipped back a bit to give her a better view and his hand landed on hers. They looked at each other and after a few moments she turned her hand around and enclosed his. No words were necessary. Both enjoyed the presence of the other and at some point Agnarr slid closer to her and put his arm around her. She smiled and after a while her head sank contentedly on his shoulder and both watched the sun slowly sink.

***

[lizzy-frizzle]

Haha, jk....unless?

Taken

“Listen, what will it take to convince you I’m worthy to take you out on a date?”

A small au ra raen looks sternly up at the xaela.

The xaela responds, “You are not of the dotharl tribe, you can never be worthy.”

Lizzy, frustrated and not to let fate stop her, takes a moment, and looks around the area.

“Ok, what if I help your tribe?” she spots numerous people immediately with pained expressions, surely they need some help, “After all, you lost some people after the naadam. If the imperials were to come back and attack your tribe, you’d be wiped out.”

Sadu takes a moment and considers her words, “You would help a tribe you don’t belong to?”

“Of course, I helped the mol, I did some light chores for the oronir and buduga. I’ll gladly help the dotharl!” Lizzy finished her sentences and beams at Sadu.

Sadu thinks about this, she can’t exactly turn down help, but at the same time she doesn’t want to offer what Lizzy wants.

“Let’s see how serious you are then.” she scowls, but Lizzy doesn’t let that deter her.

Lizzy spots a dotharli warrior she helped before, “Mauci! Hey, you wanted a teacher right? Let’s go learn to fight!”

The warrior looks startled, and stammers out, “O-oh, Y-yea! OK! Sure, can you kill some beasts for me to watch your technique?”

“Sounds like a plan.” Lizzy, daggers already out, starts marching away from the khaa.

~Out in the steppe~

“Alright, you’re watching?”

Mauci shouts from a safe distance, “Yea! Go for it!”

Lizzy approaches several beasts, daggers drawn and ready to attack, the monsters take note of Lizzy’s presence and one dashes out. Lizzy jumps up, and thrusts a dagger down through the monsters skull, [Nice and easy, now the other one.]  The other one attacks in response, lashing out with a claw. Lizzy ducks under it, and slashes one of it’s legs with her left dagger. [The least you could do is give me a challenge though.] Then in the same motion jumps up again and uses the right dagger to create a handle on the creatures back. It flails it’s arms in an attempt to shake her off. [Oh, I can show off here, hold on.] Lizzy leaps off, and in the air, she uses a series of hand motions, [Raiton time!~] Suddenly a bolt of lightning strikes the creature, killing it instantly.

Lizzy lands with a flourish, dusting herself off, now slightly covered in blood.

“How was that?”

Mauci scratches his head, “Ah, your motions are certainly unfamiliar. Not to say they aren’t natural. I think I see the style though. Let’s return to the khaa, there’s a practice session later today. I’d like to test myself against the others.”

Lizzy looks over and sees smoke coming from the peaceful spring, “Is that accompanied with a bonfire?”

Mauci turns, and looks worried for a moment, “No, no it’s not.”

~Back at the Dotharl Khaa~

When Lizzy and Mauci return, the winds have picked up into a gale.

There’s numerous imperial soldiers fighting with various dotharli warriors. Lizzy wastes no time throwing daggers at the nearest imperial soldiers, dispatching them immediately. With speed Mauci can hardly believe, Lizzy seemingly teleports within range of 3 other soldiers and just as fast the group is engulfed in a fireball, he feels the intense heat from at least 20 yalms away. When the smoke clears, Lizzy is holding an imperial soldier by the collar. The scowl that reads on her is unmistakable through the crimson dripping down her face.

“Where is she.”

The soldier’s eyes are closed, the body is limp.

[Ugh, perhaps that was too much.]

Lizzy scans the area a bit, anything, a sign, a hope. Anything.

[She should be here, she wouldn’t have run away from the fighting. But where.]

A couple more troops fighting with dotharl are nearby, Lizzy runs over and takes them out, still looking for Sadu.

[Even if she was killed, I’d be able to see her.]

Panic starts to pool inside of Lizzy. Then, she spots them. The imperials with a group of hostages, Sadu one of them.

“No..” Lizzy wants to run after them, but there’s too many innocent tribe people in danger right now.

[I can always ask Thancred for help tracking the hostages, I have to save the people in immediate danger now.]

~Later that night~

“Thancred?”

“Yes? What, pray tell, would the warrior of light want with me at this hour?”

“They took Sadu and some other Dotharli people.”

“Work then. Who took them?”

“Garleans.”

“Ah, serious work then. I’ll see what I can find.”

“Please hurry.” Lizzy couldn’t hide the slight worry in her voice.

“Oh? Is that the Fearsome Warrior of Light AND Darkness with some fear in her voice?”

“Shut it. I still haven’t kneecapped you for making fun of Heliox.”

“Very well, I’ll be off.”

With that Thancred disappears into the night. Lizzy waits with baited breath.

~The Next Day~

Lizzy’s linkshell wakes her up

“Yo, what’s-” Lizzy yawns, “-up?”

“It’s like noon, why are you asleep?”

Lizzy shoots up in bed, “Thancred, where are they?”

“Oh I have your attention now?”

“Thancred.”

“Ok, ok, don’t tear my head off. They’re just being held in a nearby imperial prison, not a huge deal. Honestly, I’m surprised you’re worrying about them, it doesn’t seem like there’s anyone important there.”

“I’m going to go rescue them.”

“OH WAIT YOU-”

Lizzy hangs up on him. Lizzy gets out of the tent, and looks at the Khaa. The smouldering remains where the fires burned made her remember the battlefield at Ghimlyt Dark. The smell of imperial gunpowder, and the view of bloodsoaked sand.

[It’s ok. You can save her, and there weren’t any casualties on the dotharli end.]

Lizzy sighed, and shook her head free of the memories. She whistles for a yol and without a word she’s off.

~~

Lizzy was never one for a plan when her emotions played a large factor. Luckily, being the warrior of light means not many can actually cause enough trouble to halt her.

That being said. Not every prison can just be brute force’d into letting her have her way.

[Ok, maybe this should be a more stealth based mission]

Lizzy peers out across the layers of soldiers.

[Lasagna Soldiers]

Lizzy let out a small chuckle at her thought.

[So, get in, free Sadu and any other dotharl’s, get out, without being seen. Easy. Just like Oboro always tries to convince me. Stay hidden.]

Lizzy begins infiltration. Staying hidden while possible. Ducks down a hallway, dodges a patrol group.

[All in all, this is going better than most cases.]

Just then, she turned a corner, and two roaming soldiers nearly collided into her. She jumps out of reflex and somehow managed to avoid both of them.

Lizzy lets out an audible sigh.

“What? Hard day?” one says.

[Oops.]

The other responds, “Hm? No? Why’d you ask?”

The first guard turns around, and starts looking as if he could see Lizzy.

“I thought I heard a sigh. It wasn’t you?”

They draw their weapons.

[This isn’t great.]

Lizzy unsheathes her daggers.

[I tried, oboro, please don’t be mad.]

She breaks hidden, and lunges towards both guards.

[If I can just kill them both before they say anything, maybe it’ll be fine]

A flurry of daggers, and two thuds from the bodies hitting the floor.

[Nice, ok, back to]

An alarm starts blaring.

[Oh. Ok, well, running time now.]

Turns a corner, another one, a third corner.

[HOW MANY CORNERS ARE IN THIS PLACE.]

She turns another corner and slams into a door, knocking it open and nearly off its hinges. Lizzy spots the dark blue skin and black scales.

[Dotharli people?]

Lizzy bolts to the cell.

“Hey, is this everyone?” she asks.

Scanning quickly, her heart drops. Sadu isn’t here.

~~

She spits at the guard inches from her face.

He wipes the spit off his mask, and repeats the question.

“So, are there any secrets in the Steppe? Why was the Warrior of Light there?”

No response.

“Very well, we can continue doing this until your spirit gives up.”

The guard takes an imperial device, and touches it against her skin, sending electricity through her body, and burns across the skin where the metal touched.

“If you think I’m afraid to die, you don’t know who you’re dealing with.”

The guard takes the device off her.

“Clearly.”

He wipes it clean and puts it back on the trolley.

“Well, perhaps you care more about your fellow savages.”

Suddenly an alarm starts blaring.

“An intruder?”

Sadu’s heart races slightly.

[Could it be? Did that foolish woman follow us?]

The guard speaks into his radio, “Who’s the intruder?”

The other side isn’t heard, but Sadu could feel it. No one else could have found them.

“I see, well, stop her immediately.”

[Her, so it is her.]

“I don’t care if she’s the Warrior of Light, she bleeds like anyone else!” the guard turns his focus back to Sadu, “Well, I must have someone mighty important to merit a rescue from the dreaded Warrior of Light herself.”

Sadu remains quiet.

“You are proving to be very difficult. I don’t tolerate difficult people. If you are worth something I can still utilize you.” he pulled his gunsword out and aimed it right at Sadu, “But maybe you aren’t worth the trouble.”

An explosion shakes the facility. The guard looks towards the door, even through the mask Sadu can tell he’s worried.

Another explosion, this one on the opposite side.

“Is it more than just one intruder?” the guard says into his radio.

Sadu is unsure if he gets a response or not, but the guard points the gunsword at her again.

“Ok, I don’t have time for you anymore, pray to whatever god you believe in and be prepared to meet them.”

The door slams open, and is shortly followed by a lightning bolt aimed directly at the guard.

A shot rings out.

~~

“Ok, listen, I’m going to create a diversion, a big one. Can you take these bombs and plant them near the exit? Just throw em anywhere, hit the button, and run. You’ll have a minute or two to get away.”

Lizzy hands a pouch of bombs to one of the xaela she recognized from the Naadam, and gives the group directions out of the base.

“Trust me, they’ll be more focused on me, I promise.”

Lizzy bolts off down the corridor, leaving the handful of xaela to escape.

[Ok, time to find the most explosive room in the building. They keep bombs around here somewhere, right?]

Running as fast as her legs will carry her, she covers numerous hallways in a handful of moments. Hoping to catch some indication of something to make a big boom.

More hallways.

[I’m wasting time, surely there must be something I can use.]

Then she found it.

[Well, it’s not bombs…]

She walks into a room storing multiple energy tanks.

[I was never one for subtlety to be honest.]

Lizzy prepares her shadeshift.

An explosion goes off across the prison.

[That sounds like where I told the Dotharli people to go. Alright then.]

Lizzy takes a deep breath, and braces herself for impact.

[Chi. Ten.]

An explosion across the room erupts, engulfing the entire room in flames, followed by several consecutive explosions, and launching Lizzy backwards down the hall.

“Is it more than one intruder?” a muffled voice behind the door next to Lizzy rings out.

[Well, let’s see.]

Lizzy charges at the door with her shoulder.

[Ten-Chi.]

As the door opens, she spots an imperial soldier with their gun aimed at Sadu.

[Fuck no.]

The Raiton sails through the air, hitting the soldier square in the chest.

A shot rings out.

The lighting spun the guard, the gun was aimed at Lizzy.

She begins to feel a stabbing pain in her side.

[This is fine.]

Lizzy moves over to Sadu, “Good evening princess, care to be rescued?”

The blood starts to leak out of Lizzy, the red staining the otherwise blue outfit.

“I’m not a princess.” Sadu says, noticing the red, “You’re hit.”

Lizzy let’s out a fake chuckle, “Listen, even you have to admit that was a pretty good entrance.”

Sadu, growing irritated, “Untie me so we can get out of here, and get you some help.”

“Oh, right. Sorry, loss of blood. Hard to focus.”

Lizzy uses her daggers to effortlessly cut through the binds.

Sadu grabs Lizzy, and begins to half-carry her.

“How do we get out? Sadu asks.

“Ah, I didn’t think that far ahead to be honest. Should just go down a couple dozen halls, right?”

Sadu groans.

[Of course she didn’t think of a way out. How did this woman beat us at the Naadam.]

~~Dotharl Khaa~~

“So, Lizzy is going to be ok, right?” Sadu asks, impatiently.

Thancred looks at Lizzy laying in a cot in one of the xaela huts, “Yea, I’m sure she will, it’ll take more than a single garlean bullet to take her out.”

Sadu sighs with relief.

Catching herself, “It’d be a shame to lose such a fierce warrior so soon. After all.”

Thancred looks at her, trying to measure her feelings.

He opens his mouth, but decides to shut it, and walks away.

As he leaves, Sadu goes inside, and sits next to Lizzy’s cot.

After all, she shouldn’t be alone right now. That’s all.

“Oh, hi Sadu.”

She jumps, “You’re supposed to be resting.”

“I am,” Lizzy says defensively.

“What, no sarcastic remark?”

Lizzy waits a beat, “No, not this time.” she pauses. “I’m glad you’re safe.”

[theawesomeally]

Before We Met (Preview)

Prologue

In a world inhabited by mythic creatures, love was commonplace several millennia ago, though difficult to master. After his training advances over the decades, his powers became obsolete and were largely discarded.

[The camera zooms in on the city and two blazing specks of light dash all over the place as one shoots lasers at the other. We then see an enemy aircraft flying throughout while it's chasing a young man, who is running from the pursuer. We see full closeups of a guy in his craft and Rocky as he runs. The scene freezes after an explosion with Rocky barely missing it.]

[voice over]

Through the years I have been known by many names. Marshmallow, The Furry Lover, The Daredevil, Frisky Two Times and then The amazing Ryan Reynolds. But to most, I am Rocky, the awesome one!

[Some other women, leaning across the wall, and Rocky getting his shades from his pocket. Put it onto his eyes. While he puts his hoodie onto his shoulders. Rocky was dressed like a gentleman, but he fought with honor or dignity and pulled at the knot into his tie. Females are not meant to grab his attention, and if it does. To be fair, he heard most of what he'd said up to this point. The parts that weren't of his interest, anyway.

Okay, maybe that wasn't much]

His sigh is heavy with exasperation,

"Can you keep your dick in your pants at the gala?"

Grab his phone from his pocket, automatically switching it out of Bluetooth mode, and bring his earphone up to his ear.

I will never forget you, Margarita. [The female stops and cringe after hearing the name. His blue prominent eyes were not well adapted to winking. They were rather of the sort that closes solemnly in slumber with majestic effect.

Rocky pretend to consider as Rocky step out of the car and button his tux jacket. "Hmm."

"Nice wheels, sir," the valet says, unconcerned that he was on the phone. Rocky pull out his wallet and flash a fifty-dollar bill. "Take care of her and this is yours."

"Yes, Mr. Rocky."

"I mean, Rosa. Uh...sorry. I think maybe I should go.???." She wrapped her arms over her chest and shook her head with a smirk curved across her face. Rocky grinned and raised an ironical finger in salute Rocky starts backing away. "You can't get away with it." the security guard muttered, holding out one hand. He was moving very slowly, thinking Rocky was the enemy or something. Blinks at her as a farewell, but glance with a smug as he sees the vampire's ring. Mind was so wrapped up in thought that he didn't notice the familiar vampire standing behind him. A vampire with bad breath psycho. "Hey, come on, dickie! You're trashing public property here!" He is thinking about how he had to sneaked up onto the roof and is currently standing a few feet behind him.

Rocky then gently slides the ring off the vampire's finger using his katana.

Light glinted off a myriad of his Katana and the vampire ring. Spray from the dust to blew up into his face, but sweat more than seawater moistened his palms as he gripped the eagle. His eyes were as blue while the vampires eyes were cold as the stormy weather.

"Hey, it's Gale calling," says Rocky called over his shoulder to one nefarious vampire. "Love the shiny suit. Really brings out the sex trafficker in your eyes." Rocky had commented, half jokingly and straight up confident, how that guy would have been considered handsome - if he ever bothered to smile.

Cut to a shot of a cliff.

A grim expression again carved itself into the soldier's face as he gazed up at the jeering vampires, their bodies smeared with blood, upon the cliff tops. Even the most cowardly of tribes in Gaul would fancy its chances from such advantageous ground, one being was mused. The sound of their jeers was occasionally accompanied by the high pitched swish of an arrow, as the odd archer tried his luck. Invariably the missile would zip harmlessly into the sea, or at best a thud could be heard as it struck as a human shield or the solid surface of the earth.

Cut back to the fighting scene. Rocky is skewering a guy with his swords, and kicks the vampire in the chest, sending him back down and puts his sword away. The guy gasp and starts fighting with Rocky. This continues for awhile until Rocky get's away again. Using two fingers he salute the vampire as a goodbye.

Making a soft chuckle. He flicks the vampire ring up into the air. It comes back down and lands into one of the streets, causing his background to explode. The shards of fire fell in slow motion behind him.

He is consumed in the explosion, as his body can be seen flying off the ground, flipping off the camera as it goes. "Oh, fuck." Rocky mutter under his breath. "Oh, I'm sorry." A small apology leaving his lips with a smirk.

"That will teach you, not to mess with me," A familiar voiced ask, up righting his head as he walk over the circles and appeared in front of him,

(narrator)

So, I know what you're thinking. Why is that incredibly handsome guy being chased by a madman with a huge shiny fangs from the Civil War?

[The scene freezes after an explosion sending Rocky flying off the ground from the ground. After the dust settles, leaving Rocky lying unconscious on the ground.]

This guy's got the right idea. Well, to be honest, it feels like I've been the captain of my whole life. Is this too much? Am I going too fast? It's kind of what I do--You know what? Let's back up.

[We see the whole fight going in reverse as well as frames of future clips for a split second each time, one passes as Rocky mimics a rewind sound effect] Cut to close-up of Rocky gets up to his feet. Cut to him sitting on the side of the gable roof at night. Wondering how long it would be before he saw the city again. He had been born with a wandering heart, and he embraced adventure, unafraid to face the dangers often presented by journeys into unknown places. Leaving civilization behind for the wilds of the frozen north, legs dangling over the side as he listens to his Walkman next to him playing 'Shoop.' Rocky was vaguely singing along, making hand gestures along with the lyrics, but he was focused on his own drawing, while listening to the music and coloring a picture with crayons. We see that the picture he's drawing is him shooting the vampire in the head, he was doing it with some crayons he had with him.

It was fun to see that getting shot in the head, even if it was just a crayon drawing. He'd never soon change it to a reality. And then turned his head and stared directly at the camera, or the person reading, or just whoever balls happened to be paying a lot of attention to him.

Wha- Oh! Oh, hello. I know, right? Who's balls did I have to snap to get my very own story? I can't tell you, but it does rhyme with dick. And let me tell you; he's got a nice pair of fucking underwear, he finished in an Swedish accent.

They'd get that joke, right?

Anyway, I got places to be, a kiss in the ass to fix, and - oh! hot weird vampire to kill.

He watched eagerly as the flashes of light began to appear below him – lots of rippers were a very dramatic little shit, after all – we're panning quickly towards the edge of the roof he was sitting on. Now having an appointment to keep, Rocky was quick to get onto edge of the roof and, in one fluid motion, opens a music playlist called Tunes of Anarchy on his Walkman, and the song "Where Evil Grows" by The Poppy Family stays playing in the background as he jumped off the roof, landing in one of the coolest bar in Mystic Falls. It seemed that they had been drinking peacefully, listening to 'Angel of the Morning,' but when Rocky landed and that's when their peaceful night was over.

They look around for which they finally see as Rocky stands at a wooden doorway wearing a cowboy hat, black sunglasses, and red a white hoodie as he opens a music playlist called Tunes of Anarchy on his Walkman. Opens up and the door swings open and the music resumes with people dancing and lights flashing as he goes inside the bar.

Nothing.

Absolutely positively not a fucking thing.

First one person turned, noticing him. Then more followed, until the whole patron was hushed, waiting. Everyone was watching, the same bewildered look on all of their faces. Eyebrows raised and narrowed eyes, etc. God, for months he'd played this moment over and over inside his mind. It most definitely never turned out like this. Whatever this was.

As he walks up to the bar. The room was narrow and about 90 feet deep. Light did manage to worm its way into the establishment, though. It seeped through the windows scattered along the walls, and through the gaps in the door between its wooden panels. A bar on the left at the front, then some upholstered horseshoe benches, then a cluster of freestanding tables on what, on other nights, might have been a dance floor. Then the stage, with the band on it. The band looked as if it had been put together by accident after a misfiling incident at a talent agency. The bass player was a stout old black guy in a suit with a vest. He was plucking away at an upright bass fiddle. The drummer could have been his uncle. He was a big old guy sprawled comfortably behind a small, simple kit. The singer was also a harmonica player and was older than the bass player and younger than the drummer and bigger than either one.

The guitarist was completely different. He was young and white and small. Maybe 20, maybe 5-foot-6, maybe 130 pounds. He had a fancy blue guitar wired to a crisp new amplifier and together the instrument and the electronics made sharp sounds full of space and echoes. The amp must have been turned up to 11. The sound was incredibly loud. It was as if the air in the room was locked solid. It had no more capacity for volume. But the music was good. The three black guys were old pros, and the white kid knew all the notes, and when and how and in what order to play them. He was wearing a red T-shirt and black pants and white tennis shoes. He had a very serious expression on his face. He looked foreign. Maybe Russian.

I watched them for a minute, and then I looked away. My name is Rocky, and once I was the most wanted man, with heavy emphasis on the past tense. I have been out nearly as long as I was in. But old habits die hard. I had stepped into the bar the same way I always step anywhere, which is carefully. One-thirty in the morning. I had ridden the train to West and walked south on Sixth Avenue and made the left turn on San Francisco bar and checked the sidewalks. I wanted music, but not the kind that drives large numbers of patrons outside to smoke.

His attention was taken away from patrons. It was at that point that he saw the young beautiful woman alone at her table, Her name tag read Katy, and her shirt clung tightly around her chest. Her hands worked quickly and gracefully with the bottles as she poured them another and took the empty's away.

I watched her in the gaudy, reflected light, with the music shrieking and pounding all around me. The two guys watched her. Her bodyguard watched her. She watched the guitarist. He was concentrating hard, key changes and choruses, but from time to time he would lift his head and smile, mostly at the glory of being up on the stage, but twice directly at the girl. The first of those smiles was shy, and the second was a little wider.

What met my eyes was a beautiful girl with golden hair and a bright smile that melted my heart. She was blond and blue-eyed, American woman who have a glow, and a smoothness complexion. She lives in New York, singing, listening to a band, and I was in love with her angelic voice. That was clear. There I was, a guy further back in the room, stood in the room staring at her. I was 6ft tall, wide man with a white hoodie and a black leather jacket under a hoodie. She was part of the reason I was here with her back in a city when we were at the age of 19 or less.

It wasn't the kind of glossy place that had a policy about dating rich girls, either for or against. Some call it a gold digger, and I guessed they had looked at her and her minder and made a snap decision against trouble and in favor of tips.

The part of her gaze that wasn't wary was filled with adoration, and it was all aimed in his direction. She was rich. She was alone at a table near the stage and she had a pile of A.T.M fresh twenties in front of her and she was paying for each new bottle with one of them and she wasn't asking for change.

She was a waitress and I loved her.

The woman stood up. She butted the lip of her table with her thighs and shuffled out from behind it and headed for the counter in back. I got there first. The sound from the band howled through it. The ladies' room was halfway down. The men's room was all the way at the end. Rocky leaned on the wall and scanned the room. As Rocky watched her walk in and squeeze through the crowd and she sat down on the bar stool, 1 feet away from him.

"Hey, Raoul, look what this kid dragged in. Oh, wait! That is the guy!," but they didn't hear. Too much noise. He caught them by the elbows, one in each hand. They spun around, as if ready to fight, but then they stopped. Fortunately for him, the first two who approached her were quick to heed her dismissal. She wasn't there to mingle with huge ass in leather jackets. She was just there to grab a drink and relax and pretty sure she made that pretty clear when she shot the first couple of idiots down.

The third guy, however, wasn't ready to take no for an answer.

"How about you let me buy you a drink, sweetheart?"

Their sex appeal eyes pried upon their eyes from the television screen above the bar and looked at the newcomer. With his hair greased back and one-size-too-big biker jacket on, the guy looked like prime wife-beater material. Perfect. Just what they needed to interrupt his evening.

"Thanks, but I'm good," she said curtly, gesturing to the beer bottle in front of her.

"That's it? You're gonna chug that shitty beer and call it a night? Come on, let me get you a real drink."

She scoffed. "What? Like those idiots you got over there?" she glanced past him at the table where he and a couple of his friends had been sitting.

"It's a warm-up. Trust me, honey, we're just getting started over there. You should join us."

She wanted to roll her eyes. "Like I said, I'm good."

She made the move to turn away and focus her attention back on the football game on the television when the guy grabbed her by the arm.

"What the hell's your problem?" This guy gripped her arm tightly, this guy's face practically scrunched up in a beastly snarl. "I don't like to be ignored, y'know?"

She yanked her arm out of his grip and stood up to face him directly. She knew pretty damn well where the conversation was headed and sure as hell were not about to get in a bar fight with their ass glued to the seat.

Before she could open her mouth, a familiar voice spoke up from behind her.

By hearing it and raising their head to turn to his voice, her smile grew a tad wider, recognizing the voice immediately. They simply looked so annoyed, at least much more than usual. His lips pulled into a tight frown, while their eyes narrowed, eyebrows furrowed, back hunched over slightly if you'd look hard enough. Yep, those guys are just being grumpy as usual, but seemingly much more grumpy, except with their eyes laced with the slightest bit of concern. For herself, most likely.

The said person stopped, and looked over their shoulder to the voice. She put on a mellow look close to her usual one. Confrontation- unnecessary confrontation- was not exactly his thing. He tended to avoid fights like these. He could hold his ground better than most, but he preferred to keep out of the brawls and spats that others got involved in.

A voice caught his ear, she sounded like she needed help, despite the overconfident tone the stranger used. "Look, I don't wanna interrupt, but is this guy bothering you?" he looks up at her and says greeted casually, as casual as someone could be hanging for dear life. She looked up at me, startled that he was there. "I'm sorry. Did I scare you up?" he softly asked, when she turned to get a good look at the stranger in his handsome voice. She wasn't expecting the sight she was met with. A pair of piercing blue eyes smiled over her, puffing out her cheeks childishly when she looked at him. After she looked to her right to find Rocky taking his place beside her. Her pinkish lips turned up in a small smile as she ducked her head briefly with a laugh before tucking her hair behind her ear, "No, you did not," she said. He couldn't keep the amusement out of his voice. She turned her head to look at him, catching his gaze with her own. He gave a small smile, stroking her hair softly with his index. "So, What exactly are you doing here?" she said softly, trying to maintain an even tone of voice.

"Oh you know, I was just passing through the neighborhood when I thought I caught a whiff of filthy human garbage coming from this place," he said,

"And sure enough here I am."

Desire pools dark and deadly in his groin. Gaze up at her, releasing her lip. Katy flush a deep crimson in her cheeks, and he runs his index finger down her cheek before handing her the headphones. "I'd like to kiss you, too, but you won't let me down, are you?." Rocky asked her. Besides, he's pulled the straps so tight he can barely move.

Amused smile on his lips, he's wearing his enigmatic half smile. He glances down at her, light blue-gray eyes alive, he glances up when she looks at his way and their eyes lock. And in that brief moment, she was paralyzed, staring at the impossibly handsome man who gazes at her with some unfathomable emotion. His gaze hot, burning into her, as they lost for a moment staring at each other.

It's there in the air between them, that electricity. It's palpable. He can almost taste it, pulsing between them, drawing them together.

"Oh my," she gasps as she basks briefly in the intensity of this visceral, primal attraction. The two men stood back, saying nothing, but looking at him with hard eyes.

Katy had, somehow, stammered out some sort of reply that must have made her look insane. Coby, hearing her, had come over to check on her and had ended up having her go make Rocky's a drink while they chatted. Ever since that first meeting, though, Katy had completely fallen for Rocky. There was something about his smile, or maybe it was his eyes? Whatever it was, it made Katy's entire body feel light as a feather.

To be continued....

[that-one-fandom-vore-blog]

The whole sky was spinning (I might have been drunk)

Written for @that-gt-and-vore-stuffs from the prompt: “Oh come onnnn! Do you really want me to starve?” Thanks, bud!

Going to a party with Kelly was one thing. Sam knew what to expect from her friend when the world seemed so far away and all that mattered was the thumping of music in the air-- a good amount of drunken laughter, sitting on the roof of her car, singing loudly along to whatever song was playing from inside-- they were things Sam had grown used to. 

But being with Adam at a party like this one wasn’t something she was used to. Not in the slightest. 

Truth be told, she hadn’t wanted to go. It was some thing for one of his friends, a football player, if Sam remembered correctly— which she’d found a little odd. Adam didn’t exactly fit into the jock category— a little too lanky, not to mention, he didn’t care all that much about sports— but he’d wanted to go.

He’d said it would just be a small get together— nothing fancy. He’d also offered to drive, and with a small flash of those puppy-dog eyes... Sam was all but helpless to sigh and agree to go. It had been worth it for his smile alone.

So there they were.

Sam was perched on his shoulder as they came up to the outside of the house. She could already smell what was happening— that party smell, one of sweat and booze, along with something burning. That last one caused concern to rise in her chest, though it was quickly combated by the sight of smoke rising from the backyard.

Bonfire.

The tension drained from her near instantly. Leaning up against Adam’s neck with a sigh, Sam grabbed the fabric of his shirt. “Are you sure it’s okay that I’m—“

“Babe, relax,” he soothed, “we talked on the way here, remember? They won’t mind.” There was a gentle tone in his words that made Sam feel a little more at ease. It wasn’t that he spoke poetry or anything like that— not even close— but his honest way of just saying what he wanted was something that had grown on her. She leaned a little closer to his neck.

“Okay...” She murmured, smiling softly.

“And,” he added, “I’ll have you back by your curfew. Eleven, right?”

Sam winced.

“...ten thirty?” He tried to amend, looking down at his watch. Sam didn’t bother looking with him.

It wasn’t too dark out yet— the sky a deep, navy color above their heads that held her attention. She couldn’t see any stars, not yet, but they’d come out eventually. Hopefully before her curfew. The party wouldn’t run all that long... right? Just long enough that she’d be able to lay on Adam’s chest and stare up at the stars for a few minutes before they headed back would be the ideal timeframe, and if she had to push her curfew a little later... she wouldn’t mind doing it.

“Yeah,” she responded, “what time is it, anyway?”

“Quarter to eight. Got dark fast tonight, huh?”

Sam nodded in response as Adam brought them both forward. She could hear music. Faint. Pulsing through the air and embedding itself in her chest, and with every step he took, it only grew louder in the air. It was a smallish house-- for a giant neighborhood, anyway. One story, for one, which probably explained why Adam didn’t bother knocking, instead, he simply waltzed his way around to the backyard and swung open the gate. 

Sam nuzzled a little closer to his neck, wary. It wasn’t as though she didn’t trust his friends, no, but... giants didn’t exactly have great track records when it came to drinking moderately, and although that was fine, the fact that they were so big compared to herself was... a little unnerving. She was fine with Adam, but a bunch of strangers? Not so much.

Eyes nervously scanning over the shapes of the others sitting around the roaring fire, Sam felt her little heart sink upon realizing that nobody her height was there. Not that she’d expected any other tinies to be there, but... she clung a little tighter to Adam’s shirt. 

“Hey!” 

The greeting that rose up was a little sluggish-- they’d already been drinking-- but it lacked no enthusiasm, and from the look on his face... Sam knew that they’d stay at the fire awhile. 

Getting introduced was awkward. She couldn’t remember any names— not that she’d be faulted for it— and she knew she wouldn’t be remembering any faces, either. Still, she’d smiled politely and nodded along to their words from where she sat on Adam’s shoulder. The only good part of the introductions was the fact that Adam had called her his girlfriend. It had made her cheeks light up pink.

It shouldn’t have— they’d been dating for three months— but... the tender, gentle tone in his voice when he said it was enough to make her heart flutter in her chest. Girlfriend. Like it was some precious thing. She’d caught him trying to sneak a glance, too, which had only made her blush deepen and caused her to bite back a grin. The other giants at the party had noticed and drunkenly teased their approval as Adam pulled up a chair and sat, cracking open a cold one.

It was going to be a long night. The portable speaker blared tirelessly on as the sky above grew darker. Sam had tried to be a part of the conversations for awhile— and they’d even included her, which had been an unexpected change— but once the topic shifted to sports... she’d given up on listening, leaning up against Adam’s neck instead and drinking in his warmth. It was intoxicating in a way. The only downside was the fucking noise.

Every time he brought his can to his lips, she could easily hear— and even feel him swallow enough liquid to fill up a bath for someone her size. There’d be a slight fizz as he gulped, too, growing faint quickly before disappearing entirely. It was a little hard to listen to, if she was being entirely honest. So instead, Sam focused on the lazy baseline filtering from the speaker as Adam began to down yet another can.

Isn’t he my ride home?

The thought made her heart sink a little, though she was quick to brush it off. She could just call Kelly to come get her, and Adam had only driven to pick her up— he could walk home.

She relaxed a little further, focusing on the fire that was slowly winding its way down. The coals were glimmering as one of the giants lightly nudged at it with a poker, causing one of the more burned logs to roll onto its side. The conversation had died down a little. It was nice, the words exchanged a bit nonsensical, sure, but Sam wasn’t paying them much attention. She was more focused on the soft sound of Adam breathing. More focused on the heat radiating from him. More focused on the smell of smoke in the air and the sounds of the small crowd starting to dwindle in number.

It was peaceful. Adam had been right. The gales of somewhat drunken laughter had been something she’d be able to do without, but... all in all, it was panning out to be a good night.

Until Adam hiccuped.

Sam squeaked at the sudden, sharp noise, and when his body jolted, she felt herself slipping forward and off his shoulder. Unable to grab ahold of anything, Sam knew it wasn’t a far fall to his lap, but—

Before she could properly panic about her loss of balance, the familiar surface of his hands were beneath her. It was a clumsy catch. She couldn’t complain— a catch was a catch, after all— and she exhaled a soft laugh. “I— s-sorry, I lost my balance...” Looking up, she couldn’t help but laugh softly at the somewhat confused look on his face, though... it quickly melted to a look of fondness.

“Oh... you’re—“ he broke into a hiccup, and Sam bit her lip hard to hide a laugh when she was lifted closer, “—cute.”

He’s so out of it.

She knew he couldn’t hold his alcohol well in the slightest, but seeing him like this was nothing short of hilarious. Despite the fact that he looked hazy and unfocused, the genuine affection that was showing on his face was downright adorable. Grinning, she tapped on the end of his nose. “You’re not so bad yourself,” she teased back, giving a giggle when his cheeks dusted with pink in the firelight.

Hiccuping, he mumbled something that she couldn’t quite make out, though from the way it caused his blush to turn darker, she knew right away she had to figure it out. She cocked her head innocently. “Say something?”

He sighed. Lifting his head, he opened his mouth to speak. A hiccup interrupted him, causing his hands to jolt slightly. Sam nearly lost her balance— and her struggle to regain it, she almost missed his words.

“I have a girlfriend...” He mumbled, sheepishly, “so I shouldn’t have... shouldn’t have told you...”

Now this was just adorable. Sitting down on his palm, putting her back up against his fingers, Sam tried to keep her composure and nodded. “Ah, that makes sense. You’re definitely the sort of guy who deserves a pretty girl.”

His smile was normally crooked, but now? It was nothing short of completely goofy. “Oh... yeah, she’s... she’s beautiful...” Hands jolting with another hiccup, Adam glance over at the other partygoers with a wistful look that made it clear he was seeing right through them. “She’s... shes real smart, too... head’s all...” He broke off to wave one of his hands dismissively in the air before sipping at his drink, “full. Of facts. Buncha big... numbers.”

Sam covered her mouth and took a deep breath. She was not going to laugh at him. Not yet, at least, lest he realize— this was fun. “She sounds nice.”

“She IS! She’s the nicest... always... full of nice-ness—“ a hiccup jolted from his throat, though he was quick to bounce back. “—an’ she’s real... real good at words... like poetry sometimes, a-a-and she’s always... so nervous... it’s really cute...”

It was Sam’s turn to be bashful. “Oh?”

“Yeah...” he breathed, a warm blast of air from his maw enough to remind her of how close she was to his face. “She’s... she looks a lot like you... ‘cept she doesn’t always... doesn’t always wear glasses like yours... but she has a real pretty... f-face... and pretty thoughts...”

Sam snickered.

Adam’s expression turned a little offended. “She does!” He insisted, drawing himself closer, nearly bumping his nose against her. “All those... pretty thoughts in her pretty head...”

“Adam,” Sam prompted, causing him to trail off and settle his lovestruck eyes on her. She’d had her fun. Laughing, she stood up on tiptoe and leaned close to him. “Can I tell you a secret?”

He leaned closer as well. She could not only feel his breath but smell it, too, more than evidence of the fact that he’d been drinking. “Sure...” He slurred out, holding onto the “S” sound a little too long.

Sam pressed her hands against his cheek. “I am Samantha Brown.”

He blinked. He looked almost like a befuddled little puppy as he cocked his head, brow furrowing confusedly. “...who?”

The laughter that overtook Sam was nothing short of spontaneous. Her whole body shook from the force. She was glad to be laying against Adam’s fingers— otherwise, she would’ve fallen straight off his hand. “Your girlfriend, goof.”

The look of bewilderment that crossed his face only made her laugh harder, closing her eyes until something brushed against her— Adam, nuzzling up to her. “You should’ve told me!” There was a genuine sort of irritation in his voice, the words coming out all together in a moan. “’Cos then I could’ve...”

His lips pressed up against her face, a pleased little noise pulling from his throat. It vibrated through her. Laughing softly, she returned the gentle contact as well as she could, small lips pressing against his own. It was a little clumsy, but... he was pretty sloshed. One of her hands found his jawline, fingers running along his chin. When he pulled away, leaving her laying across his palm, she tilted her head with a small smile. 

“Babe...” She murmured, “how many did you--”

He hiccuped. “Th...ree... I think...”

Lightweight.

Snickering softly, she carefully sat upright and sighed. “So you’re not going to be my ride home, huh?” 

The party had all but died out-- though to be fair, it hadn’t been much of a full party to begin with. It had been mellow from the start, different than the full ragers that she frequented Kelly. Maybe it was because they’d stayed outside the whole time-- maybe it was the calming night air, or the fire, but... it had a different atmosphere. It was sort of nice. 

Most of the other partygoers had either coupled off or left. The music had been switched off some time ago, leaving them with the low hum of conversations happening around the backyard and the sound of the fire burning itself out. Sam barely heard it. She was more focused on the soft sound of Adam breathing, along with her own heart thumping in her chest. 

His eyes were full of genuine adoration, and in a way, it was almost disorienting. True, he looked at her all the time-- but never... quite like this. It was making butterflies flutter lightly in her stomach. 

“Have I told you... I really love you... l-like... a lot...” 

His voice made her chest vibrate, ribs buzzing with the sheer magnitude it held compared to her own. She felt small, sure, but... not unsafe. Not in the slightest. Her face was brilliantly red, now, damn near scarlet. She coughed.

Adam’s lips brushed against her side, not in a kiss, but in a clumsy attempt to nuzzle up to her. “I mean it! I love you, like... a whole lot!” 

Pushing him away, Sam looked up into those gentle blue eyes he had. A warm feeling rose across her body. “I love you, too,” she admitted through a soft giggle. 

His whole face lit up like a Christmas tree. If time were to stop, allowing her only to view the way his grin was crooked and genuine, only to look at his eyes that were crinkled around the corners, Sam wouldn’t mind it. Not at all. 

“Really?” His eyebrows raised, and although he was still grinning, still blushing warmly, Sam could tell from his voice alone that he was seriously asking. It was enough to make her giggle at him again. 

“’Course,” she promised. Would he remember this in the morning? It was hard to tell. Judging by his... everything, Sam was pretty certain that a hard “no” was probably the best answer. When he moved closer again, Sam pressed one of her hands up against the end of his nose. “Hang on a sec, babe,” she murmured, reaching into her pocket to fish out her phone. The plastic bag holding it crinkled. It was something she’d learned to keep over the device— after all, with her history of ending up in... somewhat damp places, Sam had learned from experience. The bag stayed.

A little whine pulled from Adam. Again, he tried to nuzzle against her.

As much as she felt a little bad for making him wait... she needed a ride home, and soon. 

Nearly eleven. Shit.

It looked like she wouldn’t be making her curfew... though... her mother hadn’t texted yet. Maybe she was working late. Maybe she wouldn’t notice that her daughter wasn’t home. It was a long shot, sure, but maybe--

“Sam...” Adam whined out, setting his chin on the end of his hand, nose lightly brushing against her. “What’re you--”

“Lemme ask Kelly for a ride, okay? Then I’m all yours for... however long I can stall for.” 

Thumbing quickly, she opened up Kelly’s contact and shot off a quick request for a ride. She’d be awake, and if not... she’d just stay the night at Adam’s. No big deal-- she’d done it before, and while it wasn’t something her mother had enjoyed, having her daughter spending more time with “that giant”, it hadn’t gone over too poorly, all things considered. 

Sam: hey, can u come pick me up? I’ll be at Adam’s p quick, but he’s sorta out of it.

She hit send just before Adam butted her with his nose again and made a low noise in the back of his throat. A laugh pulled from her, and with a quick peck to his cheek, she shook her head. “Somebody’s clingy, hm?” She teased, lightly. Pulling away with a soft smile, she patted his cheek. “C’mon. Time to go.”  

Adam frowned. “S’it... ten thirty... already?” He asked, jostling Sam when he stood. His legs seemed a little wobbly under him, though he seemed to be trying his best to keep Sam from being in any sort of discomfort. “Shit... I wasn’t payin’... attention...” 

“It’s okay,” Sam reassured him with a pat to his hand, “I... It’s just about eleven, though, so we should... really get going.” Being so far above the ground in the grasp of a drunken giant certainly wasn’t something Sam could say she was comfortable with, but he only lived a few blocks down the street, so... she wasn’t all that concerned. He’d make it, and if he didn’t, her and Kelly could probably get him the help he needed. 

Probably.

Bracing herself heavily on his thumb and smiling softly as he took a step forward, Sam internally readied herself to be his navigator. She didn’t pay much attention to the goodbyes hollered his way, nor did she pay much attention to the direction Adam picked to walk. At least his instinct as to which way he needed to walk was right-- she only had to steer him in the right direction a few times, and he listened well enough when she did.He was fairly easy to coax back toward his house, though to be fair, it wasn’t all that far. 

The only difficulty was the fact that he wouldn’t stop nuzzling up against her, which made it had to navigate. He was making contented noises, too, humming happily and murmuring words that were too slurred together to make out properly. 

“Is this why you don’t drink?” She asked him as he stumbled, holding her up to his face. 

“...I do drink. Hydration.”

Sam stifled a laugh as well as she could manage. “Right, yeah, but... are you always like this at parties?” 

He had to think about that one. His walking slowed for a moment before stopping entirely, allowing him to shake his head without falling too far off balance. “I... don’t know,” he admitted, slowly, before breaking into a giggle that was absolutely a new thing for him. 

Sam loved it. Her own laughter joined his own in the night, and when he began walking again, she clambered her way up his sleeve to sit on his shoulder. He didn’t seem to mind, now focused on putting one foot in front of the other. Sam leaned against his neck. They weren’t too far from his place, and already, she’d mentally resigned herself to the notion of staying the night. After all, her mother already didn’t like him, so... what was the harm in it? It wasn’t like she could hate him any more than she already did. 

That in her mind, Sam stayed mostly quiet as Adam hummed and mumbled his way up to the front of his house, where he spent a good few minutes fumbling with the keys. When he finally got the door open, Sam allowed herself to be lifted in his gentle grip and brought up to his face. He looked proud of himself, and after a moment-- he was kissing her again. Sam didn’t resist. 

She didn’t resist as he stepped inside, and she even didn’t resist as she heard the door swing closed behind them both-- but what threw her for a loop was when she felt something wet and faintly warm on her body, dragging easily across her front. 

“Adam!” She squealed, earning a soft noise of protest when she pulled away, falling against his palm. 

His tongue was still hanging out from between his lips when he looked down at her, visibly confused. Withdrawing it, he cocked his head. “What?”

Bringing a hand up to wipe at her hair, feeling it come away spit-soaked, she gave an incredulous scoff. “You licked me!” It had happened before, sure, but now? He clearly wasn’t in his right mind. 

He furrowed his brow. “Oh.”

The way he said it alone was enough to make Sam have to hold in a laugh. Swatting a glob of drool off her cheek, she tried to find some words, but--

His tongue pressed against her again. Harder this time. It lingered longer, too, coating her entirely in strings of drool before he pulled away, shooting her a needy glance. His eyes were half-lidded, blearily focused on her face. “Sam... c’mon...” He murmured, gently. His breath seemed muggier than normal as it washed over her, ruffling her hair and smelling of cheap beer.  “It’ll be fine...”

Shifting a little on his palm, feeling spit soaking through the thin fabric of her shirt, Sam crossed her arms. “I really don’t want to have to explain to my mom in the morning why I’m covered in spit-- and you were drinking! It’ll be like a bath!”

A little whine tugged up from his throat. “But I didn’t eat anything... and it won’t be that bad...” As if on cue, his stomach gurgled lowly, more than proving its emptiness. He coupled it with a pout, sticking out his lower lip and creasing his brow. 

“Babe,” Sam started in a warning tone of voice, “I like this shirt.”

“It... s’not gonna stain...” 

When he opened his mouth again, she was ready, and managed to step just out of his range, teetering on the ends of his fingers. The look that crossed his face was nothing short of priceless. When he spoke, he sounded more exasperated than anything else. “Oh come onnnn! Do you really want me to starve?”

“You’re not gonna starve,” Sam said through a laugh, “and you’re not going to get anything by whining...” 

Maybe the party had rubbed off on her. Maybe it was the way that he seemed so loosened up that caused her to stand a little taller and grin at him. “At least... not unless you ask nicely.”

His demeanor changed in a snap. No longer moping, Adam stood a little straighter and all but pranced over to the couch, which he was quick to sit himself down on, still balancing Sam gently on his palm. She could practically feel the excitement coming off him in waves, and while if he’d done this a month ago, she’d be terrified, now? It was sort of endearing. 

She crossed her arms. “Well?” She prompted. 

Adam swallowed heavily. “...please?” He tried, voice wobbling a little.

“...please what?” Struggling not to laugh at the way he chewed on his lip, Sam kept one brow quirked as her boyfriend struggled to find his words for a moment. 

“Can...can I please.. can I please eat you?” He asked in a voice so small that Sam would never have guessed it belonged to the gentle giant holding her. It was quiet, and laced with a genuine sort of gentleness that made her feel a little less like she was only a meager three inches tall. 

More than a little aware of the fact that his eyes were trained on her like those of a hawk hunting a mouse, Sam tapped a finger against her chin in mock thought. “Mm... since you did ask so nicely...” Turning her eyes to meet his, the tiny girl sighed and brought her hands down to her sides. “Alright.” 

It happened faster than normal. 

One minute, she’d been standing on his palm, and the next, her surroundings were warm, wet, and oh so alive. A tongue curled around her, drawing her further into the damp heat of his jaws, and although her legs did clip up against his teeth... she didn’t feel any fear. None. Instead, she relaxed, allowing herself to be toyed with a little. 

My mom’s going to kill me.

She smirked a little at the thought. Maybe this was why Kelly was always so adamant that she should try being her own person for a change. After all, she never would’ve tried anything like what she was doing now had she allowed her mother’s own fears to manifest in her head. 

Feeling herself get squished up against the roof of Adam’s mouth,Sam gave a small laugh, one hand patting the surface of his tongue somewhat gently. She knew she was being tasted. She probably tasted like campfire, and judging by the sheer amount of saliva puddling in the dark around her, she could safely guess that he enjoyed it. A hum vibrated her surroundings. 

He sounded genuinely happy. 

Sam stayed completely limp as she felt her surroundings all tilt back, though she did flinch a little at the feeling of her shoes touching the back of his throat, slipping a little into the dark tunnel before--

A small gulp pulled her downward. His tongue rose, arching slightly to angle her toward his throat, and with another loud swallow that echoed wetly around her, Sam felt herself get pulled down and fully into the slick tunnel of his throat. She stayed still, feeling the muscles greedily pushing her tiny form down press and tug at her. She could hear his heartbeat increasing in volume as she slid further and further into his chest, hear the gentle noise of his breathing, coupled with waiting, hungry gurgles from the chamber below her. 

It didn’t take her long to spill into the darkness. 

The first thing Sam was made aware of as her little body hit the dark chamber of Adam’s belly was the liquid that splashed up around her upon her arrival. It wasn’t cold— not shockingly so, anyway, having been warmed up by his body— but it was still a little disorienting to end up mostly submerged in lukewarm beer. She struggled to get a little ways out of the warm liquid, pressing her back flush against one of Adam’s stomach walls.

“You’re lucky I love you,” Sam huffed up at him, raising her voice in order to be heard.

A noise that sounded almost like a full, contented purr rolled up around her, vibrating the walls that encased her. “Thank you...” He murmured in response.

Sam stretched out as the chamber shifted, the walls around her contracting for a moment as Adam stretched, clearly settling down. Everything in his gut sloshed as he laid on his back, and although Sam would normally protest... he was clearly out of it. Instead, she sighed and reached for the wall now sagging above her to lightly run her hands along his stomach lining, palms sinking into the fleshy surface.

The contented little growl that shook her to her core was more than a bit of an indicator that her movement was well received. The tension around her drained even further if that was possible. Smiling in the dark, listening to the noises of his inner workings along with his steady breathing and heartbeat, Sam shook her head fondly.

“Anytime, babe.”

The silence that fell between them wasn’t really a silence at all. It was punctuated by low rumbles and gurgles that rang in the air around Sam, and although his stomach was actively churning, she didn’t find it all that hard to get comfortable. It was warm. Soft. Safe in a way that made her smile just thinking about it. After all— what could harm her in here?

Her feelings of being at ease only grew as Adam gently pressed his hands against her from the outside, tracing circles lightly over the same spots that she pressed at his stomach lining. No words were exchanged, though both could feel the other shivering at the movements.

Sam could feel her heart syncing up with his own, the gentle, pulsing vibrations in the walls lining up with the thumping from her own chest. Her internal massage slowed a tad, eventually transitioning to her lying still on her back, listening to the clear sounds of his contentment.

Until it was interrupted by a buzz from her back pocket.

All at once, it came flooding back. Kelly. It was easy to forget the outside world even existed when she was tucked away in Adam’s stomach, and in truth, she already had forgotten it was there, but as she fished out her phone in the darkness, she was reminded of the fact that the clock did continue to tick steadily forward, no matter where she was.

When the light of her phone illuminated her surroundings, highlighting the pinkish walls around her, Sam had to squint until her eyes adjusted to the lighting. It was hard to read through the plastic bag’s folds, but after a moment, she managed. A string of messages from the past half hour stared back at her.

Kelly: I feel the need to inform you that it’s almost midnight

Kelly: is this about that party thing?

Kelly: did he get fuckin wasted?

Kelly: took what? 2 sips?

Kelly: ur dating a lightweight

Skimming though a couple more like those, Sam’s gaze finally settled on the last message.

——————

Kelly: I’ll rescue u tho u owe me,,, be there in 5

——————

Kelly: u kno what? Fuck u. I’m going to sleep.

[dragonrajafanfiction]

Dragon Dancer Chapter 15: Hindsight

Tonight was the night Isaac died and my journey would truly begin. There was nothing I could do about it. 

The violence of the moment haunted my dreams: the screams, the blood, the uncontrollable urge to viciously attack those people until they stopped moving. My pulse raced with the memories. My head ached, wrestling with the idea that even with my father’s powers there was nothing I could do to change anything.

Confined to my floor, dancing was my only outlet. The hardwood of the hallway and the full length windows served as a nice place to stretch and do exercises. Counting out the rhythm forced my mind away from the coming carnage and instead on the point of my toes.

Snow swirled from the clouds, sending a blinding blanket over the city. From the highrise, visibility was near zero and the windows rattled against the blustery gales.

Previous Chapter

Go Back to the Beginning

My servitor guard drifted behind the glass like an aimless cloud , watching me, following my movements with its intense stare.  It lifted one tendril like limb against the glass, drawing it downward across my body.

“Ielia?”

She swirled out of my necklace, floating in mid-air, hair adrift on some intangible wind.

 “I want to know what happened to this person. Is there any way to talk to it?”

She nodded, smiling, and drifted past me into my bedroom. She instructed me to take a pen and follow her finger to draw on the wall of the room. With her help, I traced around a circle, added triangular shapes and swirling tick marks. In a few moments, I’d drawn some sort of pentagram style shape. My father's scale grew warm against my skin as I gazed at it. 

Like Isaac's medallion in the Cassell library, it reacted to the drawing on the wall.

Echoing voices and ghostly figures surrounded me. I saw a woman. I recognized her as the matriarch, years younger, walking in the hall, passing by the door. She was walking next to two other men. I followed her out and hear their voices.

“This research is my life’s work,” Said one of the men. He wore a fancy suit spangled with what looked like military medals. “With it, we’ll be able to make powerful hybrids capable of not only defeating the Dark King, but also becoming what we need to finally unite the world.”

“Ambitious.” said the other man, who looked a bit like Isaac but much older. “I’m honored you’ve decided to use our alchemical facility and invest in our company…”

The matriarch was equally enthused. “With this investment we’ll finally be able to meet our growth targets and beyond. But … I still would like to ask why you picked us?”

Before I could think about it further, I heard more voices behind me.  “An accident?”

I whirled, startled. It was her again, the matriarch. Her voice was on the verge of tears on the phone. “But how? I’ll be there right away.”

Her image dissipated into thin air. More voices reached my ears, this time coming from the bedroom.

Walking back in, I saw a vision of the older man who had been so honored to work with the guy with the medals. He was lying in the bed that I slept in, receiving IV treatments. “Are you sure this is going to work? He doesn’t seem to be getting any better,” said the Matriarch who was standing at his side.

I was plunged into darkness. A little girl’s voice was close to my ear. “Daddy?”

A tiny body lay on the floor, missing her head.  I heard the matriarch screaming, “Charlotte!  Charlotte!” Her voice rising and breaking in pain and terror.

Standing over her was my servitor guardian. The bed was covered in blood, the IV drip tipped over.

The gong of the grandfather clock broke the visions, setting my heart racing. The lights never came back on. I reached over to flip a switch but nothing happened. The power had gone out in truth.

As I stared out into the blizzard, a winged shadow grew larger and larger until the glass shattered and the shards mixed with the sparkling snow on the carpet.  A hulking beast with glowing red eyes and clawed hands at the end of long muscular arms let out a low threatening snarl. 

Before I could scream, my servitor guardian wrapped it in its own wraith-like body. Red blood flowed from the intruder’s neck down its shoulders and onto the carpet. The monster fell forward, its head missing from its body.

Breathless with terror, I ran from the room to get to the elevator. I skidded to a halt. The elevator door was open and a tall figure of a man dressed in a kimono stood in it. It was then that I found my voice.

As the screams tore from my throat, he ran toward me, his body distorted, stretching as he grew nearer, the flying folds of his large sleeves flaring out like wings. He was almost on me by the time I turned to run. The hall in front of me twisted into a spiral and I staggered into the wall as if drunk.

An arm grabbed me around my waist and jerked me toward the windows.  My paralyzed limbs didn’t respond to my efforts to fight. My voice had gone silent despite my efforts to continue calling for help.

He raised a sword and smashed it against the glass. He climbed atop the pane. My head was dangling in the cold and the wind, spinning twenty stories up. The snow was falling past me, down into the streets below.

The next moment, I was back inside. I hit the floor, my head bouncing off the hardwood so hard I saw stars. I dug the heels of my hands in, scrambling away, breathless. Behind me, the attacker and the servitor were locked in a furious wrestling. The faint moonlight illuminated his platinum blond hair and the half mask over his eyes.

He ran his sword through the heart of my guardian and it went limp, its smoky appearance starting to drift upward and lift like fog.

I whimpered when he turned his attention back to me, his eyes red and bright in the dark, his expression blank. He strode forward. 

I threw out my hands and felt his dragon’s blood, deep and powerful like an ocean tide. Far stronger than what was in the child I’d healed. Despite its strength, I called out my father’s words, “Release!”

That fire that burned at the young Tobias set the dragon in him ablaze and brought him to his knees, groaning in pain. I got to my feet and kicked his sword away, grabbing it myself. As I backed away, I was startled by a pair of golden eyes in the window.  I dropped the sword. The metal blade clattered to the floor.  “Johann?!”

It wasn’t Johann. The face in the window was my face. The gold eyes were my eyes. I was the one holding the sword.

A strong pulse went through my head. I turned to my attacker. The mask had fallen off and I could see his face was pale because it was covered in white makeup. He looked up at me, reaching out in a pleading gesture. “What… what have you done to me…?”

I dropped to my knees, beset by visions of two little boys dancing and playing together, one saying to the other. “Wait for me, Chisei!”

“Chisei? Chisei Gen?” Behind that vision was an intense loneliness. I felt the crushing weight of it.  "Where am I?" 

“In my dream, my memory…” I heard the man in the kimono’s voice but I couldn’t see him, only two boys, playing together in a grassy field.

“Chisei and I were together, as brothers. But while he became the heir to the Clan Chief, I was a Devil and cast out by my family.”

“Who are you? What do you want with me?” My eyes searched for where he was, but he wasn’t visible.

“I am Ruri Kazama. I … I don’t know how I got here. I think I was supposed to take you with me. That’s all I know.” He sounded confused.

The scenery of children morphed until I was in a dimly lit stone room. The only furniture was an old table, a chair, a bed, a few scattered toys. I can see him now walking over to one of the toys, a stuffed bear, looking down at it.

“This is the place where I grew up, alone. He never visited me in the secret mountain village.”

“Where the Devil children are locked away?” I retreat until my back was against the wall, searching for a way out.

“Yes…” He looked at me in surprise. “...how do you know this? Are you hearing my thoughts?” He flinched, arms wrapping about his abdomen, doubling over. “My powers… I’ve lost control of them. What did you do?”

I started to feel worried that I’d actually hurt him but I was afraid to approach in case he tried to attack me again.

Ruri Kazama's gaze unfocused, and he turned away, staggering to lean against the wall. “I’m seeing your memories… Chisei… he’s killing members of the Devil Clan? I don’t remember this…”

“It hasn’t happened yet… It happens soon… I want to save the children from him…”

We both awoke at the same time. Ruri Kazama was on the floor, one hand clutching his head, teething grinding together. He had broken out into a cold sweat. I slowly got to my feet and backed away. 

A pair of hands seized my shoulders from behind. I jerked to get away but they held fast.

“Ah, so this is why I was asked to come along on this mission… because you’re too fragile to capture a little girl.”

As soon as I wrestled myself free, I caught a blow to my jaw. My ears rang and my whole face went numb. Dizzy, I staggered to the floor.

“Honestly… no wonder I have a higher body count.”

I raised my eyes to a face that sent such a chill through me I cried out. It was the man from the park. The one who strangled me. My whole body started to tremble. This time, Chisei wasn’t here to save me. I would have gone back in time only to die in the past.

The sight of my wide-eyed terror made him smile. Gleeful, he tittered like a child.  “Ah… she looks like fun. Too bad this one is so valuable to Osho’s Blade that he would probably kill me if I left a mark on her.”

Two servitors were behind him, one was holding an unconscious Tobias, the other was dragging Lukas along by his arm.

The way he was leering at me was the same as before when he dragged me into the woods by my foot. “Come along, little one…” He bent over to take hold of me.

I pushed myself against the wall, cowering away from him.

He would have succeeded were it not for Ruri Kazama. He was back on his feet. His Speaking Spirit poured out of him again, and we were all plunged into a nightmare scenario. 

We were in an institution with dozens of other children. They screamed, struggled, and cried as they were injected with needles. A hand, larger than life, reached for me. I struggled to keep away from it, but I was powerless.

I stared up towards a window into a night sky filled with stars and the colorful lights of the Aurora Borealis. I’d seen those stars so many times, I knew them by heart because I focused on them while I was injected again… and again… and again...

These weren’t my memories, they were his. My attacker’s. 

“Kazamaaaaa!” He shrieked. “You Bastard! STOP! STOP IT!” Roaring with despair, he fled from me and down the hall. Kazama, faster than my eye could follow, retrieved his sword and cut down the two servitor beasts holding my friends captive.

“You need to get out of here.” He told me, “If you don’t leave now, you’ll never have another chance. Once Osho’s Blade gets you, you won’t be able to escape.” He stood in the dark, blood running in rivulets down his blade to form a puddle on the floor.

“I can’t go back to Cassell!” I cried with despair. 

“Then is there somewhere else?”

I looked into his crimson eyes. “Those memories you showed me. Is the place still there? Still like that?”

He gave me a puzzled look. “Yes…”

“Are there children there?” 

“Yes, the mountain village is… but you shouldn’t go there.” He shook his head. “It’s dangerous.”

I stood up. “I’ll be okay. Don’t worry about me.” I felt I was acting blindly, flailing into the dark, jumping off a bridge into surging waters, unsure if I could swim.

I ran to Lukas and Tobias and took their hands. There was nothing I could say to warn them that we were going to get them and the children trapped by the Devil Clan out of harm’s way. I didn’t have time to explain. Like a canary, faced with an open cage and an open window, I darted into the unknown.

I closed my eyes and focussed on Japan, on that room with the table and chairs.

Silence and cold descended in a black curtain. I counted out the seconds. One… two… three…

We reemerged, staggering into the room Ruri had shown me in vision. I panted like I'd just climbed flights of stairs. I looked at Lukas and Tobias. Tobias was awake and trembling with terror. Lukas looked disoriented. "There are more children here. But first I need to heal you, Lukas. If you use your dragon strength you might turn like Isaac did."

Lukas leaned his hand against the ground, staring at me with wide eyes, searching for answers. "I don't understand any of this."

"Your grandmother was planning on selling my eggs to some doctor but I guess kidnapping me was a cheaper option.” I paused, reaching up and placing my hands on his face. "This will hurt for a moment…." I opened my mouth to that draconic language.

Lukas flinched away as though hit by an electric shock.  He staggered back, staring at me, then he groaned and sank to the floor.

I looked at him with sympathy but I didn’t apologize. "The Cassell College will work with their Japan division tomorrow night to wipe out the Devil Clan.  We need to get the children trapped here healed and gone before they get here." 

“What did you do?”  He was visibly shaking and unable to stand. “This hurts…” 

“Your dragon’s blood is high purity like mine. You’re unstable like Isaac was. I used my Speaking Spirit on you, like I did on Tobias.” I moved to a window and peer outside. “This is where Japanese unstable children are held. If I don't free them, they’re going to die with the rest of the Devil Clan. Can you help me?”

“We’re in Japan? But how?! Why did you bring us here!” He stared at me in wide-eyed shock.

“You were getting kidnapped by bad people!” I can feel my breath rising with all of the unexpected questions that I couldn’t answer. “And these kids need my help! I don’t have time to explain!”

He got up, coming towards me, hands balled into fists. “Explain now!”

I take a step back away from him, my back was against the wall. “I can move through space. Through gates. I think the Nibelungen ones.” I stammered for an explanation but the truth was I didn’t know how and I wasn’t about to explain where I got my powers from.

“How!” He loomed over me and I found myself cowering again.

“I just can okay! Please, are you going to help me or…” I stood up straighter. “...or should I just leave you here!” At that moment, I knew I threatened him. I felt guilty, but I didn’t know what else to do.

He swallowed hard. We stood in silence for a few seconds before he finally gave in. “Alright.”

Shaking with nervous emotion, I sent Ielia to scout outside. The village was dark and looked empty but she returned looking panicked and gestured frantically. “Servitors?”

She nodded. 

"Are we gonna die?" Tobias whimpered, clinging to his brother.

"Stay in here." Lukas gave him a comforting hug.

"Can you hold those servitors off until I rescue them?" I asked.

“I can, I’ve been trained to be able to fight.” Admirably, Lukas went outside and blew a loud whistle through his fingers. The hulking reptilian giants turned and immediately pursued him.

He spoke in clear draconic, “Speaking Spirit: Blessing of Ice!”  and a large whirlwind bearing shards of ice blew into them, knocking them back, cutting and impaling them. It was an impressive sight.

I dashed as fast as I could into dark and dingy housing. My twin used the bright spear to knock down locked doors. I hurried to the rose of cages. There was no time to really explain to the youngsters what was going on, why this strange person was breaking them free, so they screamed and kicked and bit at me until I returned them into the room with Tobias.

The raging dragon blood in my body was changing me. My skin was itching. My eyesight was blurring.  I forced myself not to think about it. My nerves, my heart strained every time I used Release to halt the progression of the children’s instability. I detached myself from their pain and fear. I didn't want them to turn into monsters on the jump to another place. If I didn’t do this, they were going to die, sooner or later. That’s what I told myself. After about thirty minutes, I'd managed to collect about a dozen. 

Tobias was brave, trying to calm the growing crowd of terrified and crying youngsters. "Don't cry." He said. "Charlotte saved me. She'll save you too."

“Charlotte?” I asked, confused.

“Yes, that’s the name my Grandmother started calling you. Charlotte Ouroboros Comemnus…”

I wrinkled my nose. “What an ugly name. Charlotte’s… okay I guess.” I filed it away as yet another placeholder.

Lukas returned to me. "There's more servitors coming! We have got to go." 

Out of time, I turned to my dirty disheveled rescues. They were huddled together, staring at me, wide eyed with fear.

For a brief moment, I wanted to return with them to Cassell. But I was still there at that time, on a plane flight to Japan. They would wonder how I could be two places at once. I didn’t know how they would react if they found out I was the daughter of a dragon, of the enemy. I didn’t know how my father would react if I told them.

I knelt in front of the group. I was so tired. They cowered away from me clinging to one another.

"Alright everyone, we're going to be free. I'm taking you so you don't have to live in cages any more." I looked at them all in turn. "I know you're scared, so everyone hold hands. Lukas, make sure they're all holding tight to each other."

A few of them began to cry, a roar came terribly close.

I took a deep breath and focussed, closing my eyes, lowering my head. One by one, the stars I saw in the vision of the lab pinpointed their way into an inky black sky in my imagination. Things were suddenly clear in my head. I could see where I was going. Only it was far, so very far. 

The world turned dark and cold.

One… two… three…

A heaviness overcame me. I felt like I was sinking. This felt wrong. I grew more and more frightened as I lingered in that cold and frigid darkness.

I was losing grip on my thoughts. My focus on my destination was fading. I pulled hard with all the strength I had left, my mind reaching through the dark, to the pinpoint of light, the goal.

The sound of rushing wind filled my ears. Warm sea air hit my senses. I was laying in the grass. 

"Charlotte!" I heard Lukas say, fear in his voice.

He was scared, scared for me. My hands, they were claws! My skin had turned scaly. I was still turning into a servitor? No, I couldn’t! Not now!

"Release!" I focussed the words on myself now. The fury of my dragon's body burst inside collapsing me. The head-on impact of the words against the full momentum of my blood rage sent me spinning with pain . It hurt so much I couldn't breathe or scream, or think.

I choked, letting out strangled gasps from air. I wanted to pass out. I wanted to die.

My vision dimmed. With my strength leaving, I squeezed a voice out of my dry throat. "Did we make it?"

His answer sounded far away as I sank under waves of pain. "We made it."

Next Chapter

[blade-king-luze]

Message from the Mun!

OOC: Hello! Gale here!  While Luze is busy here editing his stories out, I want to send a message to all of you that stopped by.

Thank you so much, everyone for the little likes you guys leave behind from the stories I made up QQ. I just had to doodle Luze here maybe writing the stories I typed in his page. I honestly never thought that I would have anyone reading my stories I write in Non-Canonical ways from Uraboku. They were just for fun and I always thought they were strange.  Ever since I saw Luze for the first time, I immediately thought of stories with him along with his brother, Luka. 

I told myself that I wanted to create a page especially for him to show the aesthetics for him and my art I do for him. But not only that, to let my stories out. I haven’t written in such a long time ever since 2014 when I wrote stories from Vindictus/Mabinogi Heroes. And ever since I first discovered about Luze, I started to be inspired to write again. 

I want to thank him for that, for making me motivated with my creativity once again. And thank you for the RPers I have seen from Final Fantasy XIV and other fandoms who made me thought long and hard to make a character page for Luze.  And so I repeat myself, thank you all for dropping by and looking at Luze’s page which I just made this month of April. You all too made me more motivated to write again from the likes whether you guys read my stories or not and draw more arts of this sass boy.

I really appreciate you all and I can’t really express more than I have to. You guys are the best! And remember, you are all loved!

- Gale Spider

[talesofpanem]

Tattoo Fixers : Panem

Author: @thegirlfromoverthepond

Rating: T

Summary: Katniss needs someone to fix a bad tattoo.

AN: Deepest, deepest thanks to the amazing @xerxia31 who beta-ed this piece.

Even though I liked the prompt, it took me times to find the idea for this story - until I watched my TV, which prompted an episode of Tattoo Fixers - London. Maybe some of you from the EuroClub know about it ? Anyways, here is my take at this week’s prompt.

Hope you have fun.

_____________

She would be fascinated by the ballet of assistants running around the shop if she wasn’t embarrassed to be sitting there, being prepped by a team of make-up artists and a hairdresser. 

Just looking at the people putting mascara on her eyebrows or trying to tame her hair was a spectacle in itself, with their tattoos poking out from under every bit of clothing, along with piercings or blue hair. 

Katniss felt utterly out of place, waiting for her turn to appear on a television show she didn’t even want to go on. Alas, it was the only free way to fix something she had regretted since she had woken up after a particularly drunken night with her cousin Gale.

It was all Gale’s fault. It had been the day of her father’ funeral, the day after Gale buried his own. After the ceremony, after everyone had gone home, Gale had taken Katniss out. She hadn’t asked, just silently nodded when he had grabbed the keys of his father’s old pickup, heading out to their favorite spot in town, to get drunk.

In the hopes they could forget the void left by their fathers.

They had spent hours in that bar, drinking until they couldn’t drink anymore, until everything faded into blackness. The next morning, however, they’d woken up together in the bed of the pickup truck, each sporting the mother of all hangovers and a lovely souvenir of their evening

Apparently, they had somehow found their way to a tattoo parlor.

Since that night, Gale had sported a wonderful peacock on his biceps, which he still found funny all these  years later.

Katniss wasn’t as lucky. She all but hated the cartoonish, badly drawn bow and arrow on the inside of her forearm. The only good thing about it was its size - tiny, so a wristband could cover it easily. She took to wearing one everyday. Solid. In leather.

Arrow. Her father’s name, had been inked forever on her arm. She would have loved it if she had been able to choose the drawing properly, instead of having been branded with a cupid-ike tattoo design.

Hence her presence on the set of Tattoo Fixers, a reality show where talented tattoo artists helped people cover up their tattoo disasters with gorgeous works of inked art. 

Removing the tattoo was way too expensive for her bank account. But Prim had convinced her to share her story with all the whole country, risking the humiliation of being branded as a drunk crazy woman on cable TV.

Wonderful.

“Katniss? You’re on in five,” a young assistant told her, making the team of preppers buzz around her like there was a breach in a beehive. One man, Flavius she thought his name was, because why not, was complaining about the state of her nails, how chipped they were, how he couldn’t do miracles, how he couldn’t find time to fit in a manicure in the remaining five minutes.

“I’m a botanist. It would be destroyed by tomorrow anyway.” She shrugged the thought away, almost taking pleasure in the disgusted look on his face. Take that, Flavius.

When the assistant came back, all smiles and happy mood, Katniss followed her out of the parlor and onto the street. Just like any other participant, she would have to walk to the shop, entering as if she was a totally random client.

Bull.Shit.

The only random part was which tattoo artist she would choose. At least she would be surprised by their drawings.

This was staged TV, reality-TV. She usually couldn’t stand it. 

She sighed, taking her place ion the street.

“Remember, start walking when the director shouts ‘Action!’” 

Katniss resisted the temptation to roll her eyes.

She started walking as casually as possible when she was told to, entering the shop as naturally as she could manage, trying to avoid laughing at the host’s attire of the day. Nobody ever bothered telling Caesar Flickerman that he might be colorblind. Today, he was mixing  a flashy orange shirt with beautiful purple bermuda shorts. No doubt the episode would air in summer.

“Here is our next client!” Caesar sounded a little too enthusiastic at her entrance into the parlor. “What’s your name, darling?” He took her hand, helping her sit on the couch facing the one where the three tattoo artists were sitting.

She took a deep breath before answering, hoping her voice didn’t falter. 

As she explained why she was there, Katniss took a good look at the three people in front of her, mentally thanking Prim for the briefing she’d given Katniss before she left that morning.

There was the woman, Jo, whose body was almost fully covered in tattoos and piercings. Only her face remained pristine, making her red hair stand out. She was sitting next to Finnick, who as the star tattooist of the program was sitting between his two colleagues. Finnick’s body was a work of art. Prim had swooned over it for much too long when she had briefed her sister, showing Katniss pictures of the man who appeared to live his life shirtless. Katniss had then been privy to the numerous tattoos that adorned his back, a chinese setting, dragon included. 

She had seen several shots of him, of his so perfect body that made women of all ages swoon over him. Of course, Katniss was well aware of the dispatch of muscles, the Greek-god physique Finnick had, and fully expecting to be struck with lust as soon as she laid eyes on him in person. Yet nothing happened.

Nothing. At. All.

She was much more intrigued by the third tattooist, sitting next to Finnick. If Jo was a picture of the bad girl, Finnick the perfection, this third person was something else. He screamed “normal”, standing out from the two others, in Katniss’ opinion. Maybe it was because she couldn’t see a single tattoo on him, not even the required tribal band around his biceps.

There was something about his blue eyes, about his messy blond air that made her look at him more than the two others. Something that attracted her.

“This is Peeta, but we call him Peet. He’s the newcomer as Cato decided he needed a year off,” Finnick said and Peeta smiled. “So, how do you want us to cover the tattoo? Any specific request?”

“Well, nothing arrow-esque, or cupid-like. I’d like something that’s more inspired by nature,” she said. She just wanted the stupid bow and arrow to be covered.

Both Finnick and Jo grabbed their sketchbooks and started to draw. But she could feel Peeta’s eyes on her, lingering for a few seconds before he in turn, dived in.

“Well, tell us about you, Kathy?” Caesar said,making idle conversation to allow the tattooists time to finish their drawings.

“It’s Katniss, actually. Nothing thrilling, I’m a botanist and I live with my sister, Primrose.”

“Oh, that’s nice, she’s named for a flower!”

Katniss couldn’t help rolling her eyes. She knew this part would be cut because nobody really cared about the chit chat between a host and someone they would forget as soon as she left the office. 

“Just like I am, it’s kind of a family tradition.”

“And you’re a florist! Isn’t it amazing.”

“I’m a botanist, but not far away.”

She was already over her talk with the host. A talk she was quite sure only lasted a few minutes, still felt like two long days. 

“We’re ready, Kitty Kat. Here’s my drawing.” Jo handed over her sketchbook, on which a beautiful cat was displayed. With red fun, he would have been a striking copy of her sister’s cat, Buttercup, aka the bane of her existence. “You strike me as independent and very focused, hence, the cat.”

“It’s beautiful, Jo, thank you,” Katniss said, as she took in the beautiful shape of the cat’s ear, the detailed eyes. The woman had talent.

“I went for something more… natural,” Finnick said. “ I hope you like it!” He handed her his sketchbook, then leaned back on the couch, taking a sugarcube out of his pocket before popping it in his mouth.

On the page in front of her was a display of gorgeous intertwining orchid flowers.

 “I can do them in different shades, like a watercolor painting, you know?” Finnick added, as Katniss stared in awe.

“It’s lovely, wow, I wasn’t expecting that, Finnick.” Between the two drawings, her choice was made. She wasn’t even sure Peeta would be able to compete.

“She’ll pick mine, guys, I’m ready to bet ten bucks!” Finnick lifted his arms in victory. 

“It doesn’t have to be a big one, right?” Katniss asked, hoping his answer would be a no.

“It can be whatever you desire, sweetheart.” Finnick’s voice was sugary, and his green eyes sparkled as he winked at her.

Which made Katniss roll her eyes.

“Well, Finnick, this one’s immune to your charms.” Peeta’s voice, amused, chimed in. “Katniss, here is my take for your tattoo.”

She put down Finnick’s sketchbook to take Peeta’s. There were no words to describe her feelings when she looked down at the drawing on the paper. She had expected something somewhere between Jo and Finnick’s like an animal in nature, or just a drawing of a beach, absolutely not what she had before her eyes.

Peeta had drawn a wave.

A single, simple wave.

Yet, the closer she looked, the more details she could see. The wave was made entirely of flowers.

Primroses and katniss were braided together with such precision, with such attention, it was mesmerizing.

From two feet away the drawing looked like a wave.

But to her, for the closer her eyes got, it was a flower wall.

She opened her mouth to talk, to express how incredible she found the drawing.

No words came out.

She had to take a deep breath before gathering her thoughts before she was able to talk again.

“This. This is what I want.” 

“Shall we go, then?” Peeta asked, rising from the couch.

She nodded her agreement before following him to the back.

She was glad the cameras didn’t filming the whole process. They were busy filming other segments with other “clients”. 

“What prompted you to draw this? I mean I had no idea that was what I wanted until you showed me…” she asked.

“Your talk with Caesar. You told him you were a botanist, that it was a tradition to have flower names in your family. So I checked what Katniss was. It came up with sagit-something…”

“Sagittaria sagittifolia.,” she said under her breath.

He laughed, as he charged his machine with ink.

“Yes, that. You said you live with your sister, and I remembered you told us you got this awful thing after a funeral so I added one and one… You must have a pretty close relationship with your sister.”

“Yeah, we do …..” She was watching him come closer with his machine. She had a question, though. “How do I know you can tattoo? I mean, you don’t even have any of your own?”

“I do have one tattoo, but it’s hidden. I’m not as extrovert as Finn and Jo.”

“I noticed.. Could I see it ?”

“Well, it would involve you seeing me at least half naked… “

She blushed. “Oh, my, sorry…”

“No need to apologize. I did Finn’s dragon, and can show you pictures of previous works I’ve done,  if you need references …. “

“It’s okay, I trust you.”

He smiled, a gentle, kind, warm smile at her words.

As soon as he started working on her forearm the cameras returned. He explained the steps he was taking, using the shape of the bow for the wave, the body of the arrow to line up the braids of flowers.

“It’s done. You can look.” His voice took her by surprise.  She looked down, finding herself at a loss for words, again.

There was no way she would hide this one under a wristband.

After the mandatory shots for the TV, Peeta was wrapping her arm in cello, when he asked.

“I kinda won twenty bucks earlier, thanks to you. Want to share it with a tea?”

“No,” she answered. As his face fell, she added, “But I’d love a hot chocolate with whipped cream, if you know a place.”

He knew a place.

(Turned out he had a tree of life tattoo along his ribcage. She could spend hours tracing it with her fingers. Or her tongue.)

[luthorao3]

Roisa Secret Santa | Mac & Cheese

Prompt: Mac & Cheese, side of angst Rating: T (teen)  Word count: 2009 words 

merry christmas, @only-freakin-sunflowers!!!  

it’s been so much fun writing this little piece and dropping into your inbox to spread that festive cheer this winter. (im dreadful at keeping secrets when im excited about something - the amount of times i panicked that i’d sent an ask without anonymous being ticked, my god...) i really wanted to add an over the top cutesy ending to this, but when i tried to write it, it just didn’t fit with the foundations that i’d already set down, so i’m sorry if you’re expecting that! i hope this story does your prompt justice, and thank you for all the lovely replies to my asks these past few weeks! 

i hope that the next few days bring you so much joy (and some freakin good food, man), and that the new year is kind to you. <3 

Luisa’s gaze lingers on the view from their balcony window.

They’ve been in France for three nights, already, tucked into a snowy city with a Swiss border, and mountains that threaten the stars sitting peacefully in their back yard. Luisa feels the biting chill even in spite of her many layers, but does not make to enter the wooden chalet that Rose had secured them for the week. The glass doors behind her reveal a lamp-lit bedroom and the suitcase that they never bothered to unpack, given that they might, at any point, need to make a speedy escape.

Luisa cranes her neck to see the row of wooden buildings that line the mountain road, instead, some small and quaint, others triple-storey and magnificent, all of them like a scene from a real festive movie – the kind with snow piled up to the windows, and hot cocoa with marshmallows floating on top, and innocent mishaps that threaten to ruin Christmas for good, but never actually succeed.

It’s not Luisa’s first white Christmas, and yet the novelty has never really worn off.

Behind her, the sound of a sliding door opening and closing signals Rose’s return from the shower.

Warm arms wrap tightly around her from behind, struggling around her middle and the three separate jackets that Luisa has smuggled herself into. Rose snorts a delicate laugh when she barely manages to rest her chin on Luisa’s shoulder, the faux fur around her hood tickling her cheek. She smells like hotel shampoo and warmth, and Luisa sinks back against her with a sigh.

“Are you still brooding?” Rose asks by her ear.

Luisa considers the question before answering with a quiet, “A little.”

“What can I do to make it better?” Her gaze flicks to one side. “We can turn on the hot tub.”

“I’m not really in the mood for that. Besides, it’s freezing.”

Rose’s voice lilts, suggestive, when she offers, “I can keep you warm.”

Luisa straightens, relieving Rose of her weight, and turns around. She balks when she realises Rose is wearing nothing but a thick white bath robe and a pair of complimentary slippers, damp red hair hanging limp over one shoulder, inviting a frost. “Are you serious? Get inside right now!” Luisa’s concern for her far outweighs the lingering uneasiness that had led her out onto the balcony, where she’d hoped the frigid air would cool her temper. “You’re going to catch your death.”

Rose stops Luisa from man-handling her inside with gentle but firm hands on her biceps.

“Wait. Talk to me before we go back in there. I know you’re upset, and I don’t want to bring this to dinner with us. Tell me how you’re feeling? Let me help.”

Luisa’s mouth gapes like a fish forced to the surface. She clicks it shut with more force than she means. “I’m feeling cold just looking at you. Please can we just—” She attempts to usher Rose back toward the balcony door, but Rose is firm and unrelenting. Her gaze pierces Luisa like a spear, rooting her in place, until Luisa drops her arms with a sigh. “I don’t want to do this right now. Can we go sit down inside, where you’re less likely to contract hypothermia?”

“No,” Rose answers plainly, crossing her arms. She looks less affected by the weather. If not for the gooseflesh crawling up her exposed throat, Luisa might assume she couldn’t even feel the cold. “I’m sick of pretending that nothing’s wrong, or biting my tongue and hoping that whatever’s upsetting you will eventually just go away. It isn’t, and it’s—” her acerbic tone gentles, the words whispering out of her in visible puffs of white breath, “it’s not fair for you to pretend that you’re okay just to keep me from worrying. I know you, Luisa, I know when something is bothering you.”

Luisa blinks a sheen of moisture from her eyes and lowers them to the knot in Rose’s bathrobe. She tugs on it with gloved fingers and then re-ties it tighter than it had been, all the while with Rose waiting patiently for her to speak. Casting a look over her shoulder, Luisa eyes the distance to the ground from their balcony perch, and considers how badly she might hurt herself if she were to jump.

She’d survive the fall. Probably, the landing could do little damage…

The thought brings a soft tut from beneath her tongue, and she releases the robe with a cloudy sigh.

“It’s Christmas,” she whispers, unable to meet Rose’s gaze. Instead, it lingers in the fine silver stitching details on the robe’s lapels – spun silken snowflakes caught in a wintry gale. Just looking at them makes her feel colder. “It’s Christmas Day and I can’t call anyone to wish them a Merry Christmas. I can’t even write. I have no idea what they’re doing, if they’re together, if they’re okay— they have no idea about me, either.” Her expression draws in, bottom lip pulled between her teeth. “I bet they’re not even thinking of me. I bet, if they are, it won’t be anything good.”

It comes out on a breath of laughter that holds no mirth, and Luisa swallows against the lump in her throat.

“I chose to do this,” she says, and Rose wonders which one of them she’s addressing. “I wanted this, us, I chose you. I don’t regret that.” She looks up, finally, her big brown eyes soft and warm and a little watery, sheening against the light coming from the balcony doors. “I don’t regret that,” louder, steadier, her hands coming to rest in the crooks of Rose’s elbows. “I knew this wouldn’t be easy. I’m just… struggling, I guess.”

Rose presses closer, her slippers dragging against the balcony decking.

She presses a cold, soft hand to Luisa’s cheek – holds it there, until the warmth of Luisa’s skin inspires feeling back into her fingers.

“No one’s faulting you for that,” she murmurs, her voice a low hum. “I know it hasn’t been easy, loving me.”

Luisa’s brow wrinkles. “Don’t think that.”

“I don’t blame you for anything, you know? If not for me, you’d be with them, now.”

“Would I?” Luisa bites the inside of her cheek until it dimples. “We never had Christmases like normal families, not like what you’d see on TV. The best Christmas I ever had was when I decided to stay in college over winter break. It was just me and the foreign exchange students; they did potluck in their dorm, and we ate out in the hall on beanbags and pillows, and then we played hide and seek in the library.” Her brow crinkles again, this time fondly. “I made out with a girl from Greece who was built like a professional football player. I can’t even remember her name.”

Rose snorts delicately, warm breath puffing from her nostrils.

The sight draws a tender smile to Luisa’s mouth.

“You’re not, you know?” she says, stepping forward, lassoing her arms around Rose’s waist and pulling her closer. “You’re not hard for me to love at all. My life would probably be much simpler if you were.”

Rose hangs her arms around Luisa’s shoulders, relaxing against her front.

“It’d be boring,” she agrees, and Luisa snickers. “Sometimes boring is good, when the alternative is going on the run from the law and never seeing your family again.”

“Thanks, I was just getting over that.”

Rose brings both hands to Luisa’s face, this time, squashing her sarcasm between them.

“You’ll never be over that,” she says, and the matter-of-factness of the statement makes Luisa’s breath hitch, but then she never has managed to get over how delicately Rose delivers her killing blows. Rose knows exactly how to turn the world inside out, and she can do it with the same precision it takes for a needle to pop a balloon. The bang makes you jump even when you’re expecting it.

Rose studies her face like she’s looking for a reaction, like she’s waiting for something to happen. Luisa wonders if she’s supposed to protest, but can’t. Won’t. Finally, Rose’s gaze softens. “Next year,” she says, picking her words with care, and with the future so far in the distance Luisa cannot blame her, “I’ll give you a proper Christmas. Dinner, presents, a tree. Anything you want.”

“Anything I want?” Luisa repeats, smiling, but Rose’s expression keeps its almost-solemn quality.

“Anything you want,” she agrees. “I’ll take you to Lapland, I’ll buy you your own goddamn reindeer, if that’s what you ask for.”

“I mean, I don’t know the first thing about their diet,” Luisa scoffs, and then her brows draw in tight with thought, “but Google has never failed me before…” Rose shivers, drawing Luisa’s attention quickly back to her. “What’s this about dinner, though? It’s not too late to find somewhere, right? I know it’s not the same as cooking your own, but I think we’re just gonna have to forgive ourselves for that, given the circumstances.”

“Actually,” Rose begins, coy, caressing Luisa’s cheek with the fat of her thumb, “I thought we’d eat in, still. I don’t want to tempt fate, today of all days. It won’t be a Christmas Dinner, or anything even remotely close to it, but I want to do this for you. I want you all to myself tonight, if that’s okay with you.”

“Wait, you want to cook for me?” At Rose’s nod, Luisa’s lips press closed. “Babe, I love you, but you really don’t need to do that.”

“What are you trying to say?”

Luisa clears her throat. “I mean…”

“Wow,” Rose puffs, unable to hide her smile, even if the offence is real. She drops her hands from Luisa’s face, draping her arms back around her shoulders. Their bodies sway together as Rose suppresses a laugh. “Fine then. I won’t cook.”

Luisa squeezes her tighter around the middle. “You can’t cook, sweetie, it’s not a matter of won’t.”

Rose scoffs but does not disagree, until—

“I can manage mac ‘n’ cheese,” she says, lips pursed. “I can make a really good packet mac ‘n’ cheese.”

Luisa’s eyes her, dubious. “You want mac ‘n’ cheese?”

“I do.”

“You want to make us mac ‘n’ cheese out of a box for Christmas Dinner?”

“That’s right.”

“Huh.”

Rose wets her lips and instantly regrets it. Her ears are beginning to ring from the cold.

“Will you eat it, if I do?”

Luisa snorts and nods her head.

“At this point, I’d take peanut butter on toast. Come on, though, let’s get inside before you freeze to death. Popsicle isn’t on the menu tonight.”

As she says it, she untangles Rose’s arms from around her shoulders and ushers her toward the balcony door.

Shivering, Rose shakes her head, taking Luisa’s hands in hers and halting any further movement. At her girlfriend’s confusion, she presses a kiss to each gloved palm, and then her face. Luisa shivers at the feeling of her mouth, cold and wet, against her own. When she draws back, there’s a light in Rose’s eye – a twinkle in the corner, like a star that’s emerged from behind a slow-drifting cloud – that gives her pause.

“I love you,” Rose tells her, all hot, visible breath and a smile so tender that Luisa bites back the urgency to get them both inside, if just to bask in the warmth that is Rose’s unwavering adoration. “I love you so much. If I could change things—” She sighs. She can’t, and so she discards the thought, with effort. “I’m sorry it isn’t everything you deserve. I’m going to do better, Lu, I mean it.”

Luisa bites the inside of her lip, blinking back the glaze of moisture in her eyes – it only attracts the cold.

“We both are,” she promises, sniffing. “Please, can we go inside now?”

Rose laughs and nods her head.

When Luisa next tries to save her from the cold, she gives no protest, and they step hand-in-hand back into the warmth.

[crazyrandomfucker]

Toblerone to obliterate someone

Challenge prompt made by @gale-of-the-nomads

_____________________

It was already Christmas season and the all the junior classes from College Dupont were having a christmas party on Grand Paris Hotel courtesy of Mayor Bourgeoise and, to everyone's surprise, Gabriel Agreste itself. To give the party a bit of entertainment, there were small events, like a Miss Miraculous contest, a small desgining contest and a micro concert by Jagged Stone, who had insisted to spend the afternoon with the teenagers misteriously.

Of course, the cattering was handled by Alya's mother as the headchef of the hotel, but the boulangerie-pastisserie Dupain-Cheng had mad a littlr contribution providing some macarons, an enormous cake and the newest pastry on the bakery: four-flavoured mistery buns, which were buns stuffed with four different fillings: chocolate, apple and cinnamom, cheese and the most popular, spicy sausage.

Everyone was having fun. They had a bit of music played by Nino, food from the best chef and the best bakers in Paris, their friends all together having fun, their families, the bits of entertainment the mini events gave them,... However, everybody had at least a bit of curiosity towards a weird section of the room, filled with toblerone but heavily guarded. They had been told it was a secret reward of one of the events.

Adrien decided to participate in the designing contest, but instead of a designer, he went as a model. Thought initially he had no intereat in participating on any of the events, but he decided to help his friends with the events. He had been Nino's buddy and kept him fed as the Dj did his job. Adrien helped Alya get a permission to film and take pictures of everything in order to document the whole party. He was going to judge on some of the contest as well, but right now he was Marinette exclusive model.

The bluenette had almost fainted when he offered to be her model, but she did an splendid job tailoring. The participants only had to design a Christmas sweater, but Marinette had surpassed by far the expectations. She made a Chat Noir-themed Christmas sweater (it had written Merry Catmas right on the front) with an acid green scarf and a Ladybug-themed sweater (the polka dots had something Christmasy on each of them) with a white fluffy scarf to pair it with. Then she had decided to make Santa's hats too and added cat ears to one of them. Adrien was more than tempted to keep the Chat Noir outfit for himself, but Marinette told him that someone else had already asked for it.

Still, when Adrien put on the sweater, the scarf and the black hat, he couldn't help but wanting to keep it. That is, until he saw Marinette wearing the Ladybug's combination. His heart skipped a beat and he could only gawk at Marinette for a solid minute before he calmed himself down and acted profesionally once more.

On the other side, Marinette was exstasic that she was just simply going to model her designs alongside Adrien Agreste, her friend and crush. Ah, it was like a dream for her. She knew Adrien liked the sweaters, but she really hoped that the jury would do so, but she wasn't as nervous as when she had participated on other contests, she had improved quite a lot since then.

And their turn came. They walked down the improvised catwalk, let the judges see the sweaters and went nack inside to wait for the veredict. Ironically, Adrien was more nervous than Marinette for once, hoping that his amazing friend would win the contest. But saldy enough, she didn't.

Marinette wasn't sad or anything, rather, she was happy for the winner, Juleka. She hugged Juleka and congratulated her for winning with her black and purple sweater, which the jury had stated to be daring and refreshing. Neverteless, the jury called Marinette to go again onstage and awarded her with an honorable mention for her tribute to the local heroes.

Adrien was confused for sure. He didn't understand how Marinette could be so happy even if she hadn't won. Sure, she was someone so positive that Adrien couldn't help to admire, but it was almost like Marinette was the embodiment of hapiness right now. His heart bumped insided his chest and a very faint shade of pink dusted the model's cheeks. She was so amazing. And he didn't deny it now. The times where he'd deny his feelings for Marinette insisting that he only loved Ladybug were long lost, but he wouldn't confess to her, afraid of ruining the friendship they had because Marinette was in love with Luka, even if they had broken some time ago.

"Hey Sunshine, why the long face?" called him Kim.

"Uh? Oh, I was lost in thoughts, sorry" appologised Adrien awkwardly.

"Then cheer up Buttercup, next contest is Miss Miraculous and then Jagged will play for us" said Alix.

"And according to my intel, Marinette us going to participate in both events" said Max.

"Mari? How-" began Adrien.

"Alya" said the trio at unison.

"That makes sense" agreed Adrien.

The trio left and Adrien decided to simply take a look at the pastries before the contest began. He decided to pick four of the mistery buns, hoping to get all of them except the cheese one. But there were two filled with chocolate and two filled with cheese (he hated to admit it was delicious).

Four hands grabbed him from behind and pulled him aside from the food table. He turned to see who had interrupted his little moment of joy and recognised his two bespectacled friends who had a worried face.

"Hey dude, Alix told us you weren't looking good" said Nino.

"Don't waste your model figure by eating away your problems" said Alya with a teasing remark on her voice despite her serious face.

"Don't worry, I'm okay. I was just thinking for real" reassured Adrien. "And no Alya, I wasn't eating away my problems, I happen to be addicted to the Dupain-Cheng's food".

"And who isn't? Even my mother loves their bakery" said Alya.

"What were you thinking of dude? Your father is making you work a lot again?" said Nino, but not seeing any change on Adrien expression decided to change his aporoach. "Or perhaps it were lady problems?"

Adrien blushed a bit and Alya gave him a knowing look. "I'll leave the interrogatory for you sweetie" said before she left.

"Forget about Alya, you know how she is" said Nino rolling his eyes and putting his hand over Adrien's shoulders. "Now, tell uncle Nino what girl has our little Sunny boy so distracted".

"What? I didn't say there was a girl or something!" saud Adrien blushing.

"Oh, then it's a boy?" teased Nino fully knowing it wasn't.

"No Nino, I'm not into boys" said Adrien and sighed. "If I tell you will you stop?"

"Man, you know I won't stop until you talk" said Nino.

"More like you won't stop because you fear Alya's rage" said Adrien. "Okay, there is a girl I'm friends with, but she is totally out of my league and I don't want to ruin our friendship".

"Does this marvelous girl has a name per chance?" asked Nino. "I promise I won't tell anyone except Alya, because you're right, her rage scares me".

"It's Marinette" confessed Adrien blushing and awkwardly looking away.

"Not even my supermodel dude has escaped the sweets!" exclamied Nino laughing. "Don't worry man, I won't tell a soul. Be grateful that Papa Nino and Mama Alya are going to give you a hand".

"I thought you were Uncle Nino. Besides, why give me a hand? I don't want to confess and screw our perfect friendship. She's way out of my league" said Adrien.

"Dude" deadpanned Nino. "You are a supermodel, famous all around the world and have a horde of fans. I know Mari is incredible, everyone has had a crush on her including Alya and myself, but she is a quite ordinary girl".

"She's definetly not. She has designed for a lot for big names in the music industry and is also famous around the world because of that. She even has a lot of connections with famous people across the world. And let's not talk about her fanclub, every boy and a lot of girls in our school are in that club. Also, her parents own the best bakery in France and she's realky talented on baking, designing, drawing, painting, dancing and a lot of other things" said Adrien not noticing his blush nor Nino's smug smirk.

"Have you finished yet? Is that why you like her?" asked the DJ smirking.

"No, I like her because she's the sweetest, kindest, most attentive, caring and positive girl I know. And she is beautyfull. I could lose myself contempling her Bluebell eyes or her obsidian black hair or her flawless doll-like skin. I know I used to have a crush on Ladybug, but when I said she was our everyday Ladybug, I wasn't joking. She is amazing" finished Adrien, almost out of breath.

"Boy, I hope Alya hasn't put another hidden microphone on me, because that was so toothrooting that she'd get diabetes like me" teased Nino.

"Alya puts hidden microphones on you?" asked Adrien weirded out.

"A few times to use me as her personal infiltrator" confessed Nino. "I swear I don't know how she manages to hide them so well that I don't notice them until she takes them back".

"I'm going to die of embarrassement if you have one of those microphones on you. Alya, if you're listening to me, don't say a word" begged the blond.

"Don't worry about it dude, let's go see the beauty contest. Lucky for you, your bro here has two spots on the front line reserved for us, so you'll see Marinette perfectly" teased Nino.

"Let me guess, Alya?" said Adrien still nervous.

"Nope. Marinette's parents. Who do you think that helped Alya to secretly prepare Matinette's participation?" said Nino.

"Honestly? I think that Jagged Stone would. I mean, he's been here with us all the time just to see Marinette and check upon her friends. He has totally adopted her as his niece. I'm sure it's great to have your favourite rock star as your uncle" pointed Adrien.

"True, but her parents are even more attentive to her than Jagged" said Nino.

"Which is totally true" said Jagged Stone from behind them, surprising both teens. "Tom and Sabine are probably the best parents in the world".

"Jagged, I think you've scared them popping out of nowhere" pointed Penny sounding a tad tired.

"Don't worry about it, it's fine dudes" said Nino. "Hey, Mr. Stone, my friend here Adrien is a fan of yours".

"Glad to meet you then. Hm... I think I've seen you somewhere else" said Jagged thinking.

"He's a famous model, his face is all across Paris and Marinette had a lot of posters of him, for fashion purpouses" said Penny flatly.

"Oh, is that so? I knew I had seen him somewhere. Are you friends of Marinette?" asked Jagged overenthusiastically.

"I have known her since we were three, we're childhood friends" said Nino proudly.

"She's my friend too, she the most amazing girl I know and she's very easily to care about" said Adrien.

"Ah, I like you two boys, you know how to apreciate the good things! Were you talking about Marinette and the beauty contest?" asked curious Jagged.

"Yeah, the girl is participating. My girlfriend and her parents managed to sign her in without her knowing. We're going to take a seat,want to come with us?" offered Nino.

"Of course! I wouldn't lose that for anything" said Jagged enthusiastically. "You said your girlfriend planned this? You must be Nino right? Aspiring film director and part time DJ?"

"Yup, that's me" said Nino.

"Oh wait, then you're Adrien Agreste right? Marinette's model friend" realised Jagged.

"I am and I'm glad to be her friend" said Adrien smiling fondly.

"But you would like more right?" said Jagged smiling knowingly. "You have the eyes of someone in love and your heart plays a ballade when you talk of her".

"Jagged, remember to play nice. That's not something to say to someone you don't know" scolded him Penny.

"Sorry, she's right, I may have overstepped my boundaries" apollogised Jagged.

"Oh, don't worry, it's fine" said Adrien politely almist robotically, even if he was a blushing mess inside.

An awkward silence set on, or at least it would if Jagged hadn't decided to overenthusiastically give Adrien a third degree. Nino could barely hold his laugh at the situation, but Penny seemed to worry about Adrien, probably because she knew better than anyone how Jagged could be sometimes. Eventhought, Adrien was spared when Tom and Sabine saw the four of them and invited them to seat with them.

"Hello Nino, nice to see you again. Is Alya being to rowdy with you as usual?" said Sabine with a gentle smile.

"She might be, but it's what I love about her, so no complains from me" said Nino.

"I see, your a tough guy Nino. I swear I sometimes think that Alya will break Marinette sometime, if Mari doesn't breaks her first thought" said Tom laughing.

"Hi Jagged, hi Penny. Checking on Marinette?" asjed Sabine politely.

"Yeah, I can't wait to see her shining like the rockstar she is" said Jagged enthusiasticly.

"I'm sorry for always causing trouble to you two" apologised Penny.

"Don't be sweetheart, it's lovely to have someone so lively around" said Sabine.

"And last, but not least, our local sunny boy Adrien. How have you been son?" asked Tom.

"I've been fine sir, having lots of fun today specially" said Adrien with a genuine smile.

"Oh, come on boy, how many times I've told you to call me Tom instead of sir, I'm not as old as my father yet" said Tom with a very contagious laugh.

"Oi Tom, what do you think of the model boy? Is he a good one?" asked Jagged.

"He is Jagged. Always so respectful and yet so sweet to others" said Tom smiling. "It makes me want to adopt him sometimes".

"I see. If you say the boy is good then he has to be" declared Jagged, ignoring the glare Penny was giving him.

"Jagged? Sweetheart? What are you two talking about, in front of the one you are talking about?" said Sabine smiling, but her smile made everyone shudder and Adrien almost run for help, and he was a superhero.

"We're sorry" gave in both men.

"Now, now. Don't worry about them Adrien you are always welcomed home" said Sabine. "I'm sure Marinette will be thrilled each time you visit".

"I don't think so mad- Sabine. Mari knows so many awesome people, I'm hardly someone special" said Adrien smiling a bit sheepishly.

"Come on now, don't undervaluate yourself like that. You are a great child and you'd be surprised to see how close does Marinette holds you. You are her friend, and a very good one at that" said Sabine.

"I told you dude, you are underselling yourself a bit too much" said Nino.

"The show is going to start!" said Jagged and everyone sat to see the contest.

The contest itself consisted of three rounds. On the first one the participants had to show their talents. Marinette, wearing a very girly and adorable outfit, had decided to show her skills in ballet. For someone who trips over air almost daily, Marinette showed a graceful and astoundingly beautyful dance. She got an inmediate pass to the second round.

On the second round, the participants had to prove that they were indeed miraculous, being at the same time strong and beautiful, so they had to show some muscle and skills on an improvised mini circuit lifting weight, jumping between platforms and, of course, swinging with a yoyo. It was meantto show beautyand strength at the same time, so noone expected that a participant would finish the task given. But Marinette showed up in a sort of Chat Noirish street dancer outfit that revealed a bit of the muscles she really had. The public was surely impressed. Marinette looked fragile and beautiful, like a doll made of glass. But her tonified abdomen and arms proved that this girl could and would do some butt kicking if needed. She started the second round and complete ut flawlessly with the grace of a swan, making the public roar in awe. Adrien was speechless, totally embellessed by her looks and, if he had to admit, he was getting very flustered by how badass could the petite bluenette be.

The final round was diferent fron the previous and more like a nornal beauty contest, not a superhero contest. The girls simply had to wore something eye-catching and the jury would decide the winner. Alya would enjoy this one for sure. She had been observing little Sunshine reactions on her girl after hearing his love confession via Nino's hidden microphone and she knew that someone would lose his cool when he saw what she had in store for him. She was no designer or fashion mogul, for sure, but she knew how to dress and how to make someone lose their mind. She smiled as she sended Marinette onstage, having styled her hair and done her make up to fit with her outfit.

And Marinette went out on the stage. Everyone took a breath when they saw her, she was radiant, simply a truly magnificient sight to behold. Adrien couldn't take his eyes off her. She was wearing a light pink silky dress, almost as if it was pulled out of a fairy tale. Adrien felt warmth through all his body, as if someone had set him on fire. He felt as if Hawk Moth had infested his stomach with akumas and Ladybug had unleashed her Miraculous Cure inside of him as well. Gosh, he loved that girl.

Marinette was nervous, freaking out, but still waiting patiently for the results of the weirdest beauty contest she had ever seen, a contest she didn't had intention to oarticipate until a certain bespectacled ginger hijacked her plans for the night. She was waiting expectantly as she heard what happened on the stage. And then silence came, so probably the jury had to debate who was the win-

"May Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng cone onstage?" exclaimed someone fron the staff.

"I'm coming!" said Marinette doing as asked.

She hadn't had time to change, but the jury didn't seem to be interested on that, rather, everyone seemed to be happy to see her again like that? Strange. But she focused and looked directly at the jury, expecting them to finally talk. Instead, the jury look at one another, nodded their heads and went back to stare Marinette, making her a tad incomfortable.

"Uh.... Excuse me? May I know why am I here?" asked Marinette worried.

"Huh? Oh, right, right" said one of the jury, finally snapping out if whatever was going on everyone's mind. "Marinette Dupain-Cheng, we are proud to announce that you are, without a doubt, Miss Miraculous!"

Some people from the staff came and gave Mari some flowers and a banner that said Miraculous. She bowed to the jury and then to the public and smiled widely from the bottom of her heart.

"Um... Thank you a lot for this. I'm not sure what to say, I didn't know I was participating until my best friend announced me that she had onesidely signed me in. I didn't expect to win also, there were a lot of more beautyful girls on the contest..." said Marinette humbly and everyone clapped.

--------

After clearing everything from the beautu contest, the staff went to fetch Jagged for his little concert. Everyone, minus Jagged and Penny, were surprised to hear that Jagged would take some people onto the stage and that he was going not to sing his usual songs, but he was rather going to improvise some. Adrien felt specially worried when after saying that Jagged winked at him. Either way Adrien would go onstage or he would most likely feature one of the songs or maybe even both. But Marinette arrived and that distracted Jagged from Adrien, instantly hugging his adopted niece and congratulating her for winning.

Adrien felt a little sting on his heart when he saw Marinette, as if his heart was trying to escape from his body, trying to go to her hands. He awkwardly waved and Marinette noticed, waving back as she brightened and smiled.

What Adrien didn't know was that Marinette was also a bit nervous inside as well. She no longer had the enormous crush that didn't let her say a word to him, but she still felt something for Adrien even if she had tried to drown those feelings to let Kagami had a chance with Adrien and gave Luka a chance. Also, it didn't help that he remembered her so much of her dorky partner for whom she had growed affection, even if she couldn't let those feelings materialize because she had a duty and it wouldn't be fair for Chat Noir.

And yet, there they were, dancing around each other without knowing who the other really was. But Jagged was between them, not letting Marinette go. But Alya came to the rescue and pulled the girl from the rockstar while Penny scolded him once again. She knew what was going on between the two, even if both were hopelessly oblivious to notice it themselves, but she could give them a little push, couldn't she? And she did, literally, she pushed Marinette to Adrien and the girl demonstrated her usual clumsiness falling on him. They both fell on the floor, Marinette falling on top of Adrien, but both of them blushing equally. Marinette looks up and her saphires met his emeralds, entangling themselves in a magical moment, but the realisation of how they were positioned made them both evade each other and quickly stand up again.

"I'm sorry I made you fall" apologised Marinette, not daring to look at him.

"Don't worry, it wasn't your fault, Alya pushed you to save you from Jagged's affection" said Adrien, suddenly taking an interest on the ceiling.

"You two okay?" asked Nino worried.

"Yeah, it was nothing" said Adrien quickly, making Nino grin.

"Great, we don't want anything to happen to our Miss Miraculous, do we bro?" said Nino smiling knowingly.

"Don't say that Nino, I wasn't that special, I think I don't deserve the price" said Marinette blushing.

"Are you kidding Pri- Marinette? You were incredible" said Adrien indigned but wishing that no one noticed his slip.

"Y-You saw me?" asked Marinette shyly.

"I couldn't take my eyes of you Marinette" confessed Adrien, then realized what he had just said and he blushed again.

"I don't think anyone did girl, the whole public was focused on you" said Alya trying to avoid an awkward silence.

"Yeah, you were breath-taking" said Nino teaming up with Alya.

"Oh stop it you all, you're making me blush" said Marinette sheepishly as she blushed.

"We're just stating the facts girl" said Alya. "I'm sure that you could win the heart of anyone who saw you up there, even mine".

"And I can't even be jealous" said Nino.

"Oh shush it you flaterers. If that was right I would have you three kissing my fee- I was joking!" said when she saw Nino, Alya and Adrien already kneeling down. "Okay, okay, I'll believe you".

"What can we say Marinette, you left us completely speechless" said Adrien.

"Oh stop it pretty boy or ypu'll have me falling for you" said Marinette, confusing Adrien for Chat.

"What if I want you falling for me? I mean, I already have you falling on me Princess" bantered Adrien, having a familiar feeling but not noticing his slip.

"Princess? Dude, I thought you were shier" said Nino.

"The banter sounds awfully usual for them too. Are you two secretly dating and didn't told us anything?" said Alya with that reporter look of her.

"What! No, we're not dating" said both at unison.

"They are also syncronised" pointe Nino with a knowing look.

"Nino, I swear to god we are not dating. If I was dating Marinette you'd be the first one I would tell, even before my father" said Adrien with a nervous voice.

"Alya, you know I'm not dating Adrien perfectly well" said Marinette with a somewhat menacing voice, as if she wouldn't want Alya to slip and say what she knew.

"Okey, okey. We trust you. Just saying, you would make an excelent couple" said Alya grinning as she dropped the bomb.

"Hey, maybe you could dance together on this night ball, neither of you have a partner" proposed Nino.

Adrien brightened for a moment. "He is right Mari, I don't have a partner yet. Would you give me the honor of being your dance partner?"

"I'd love to Adrien" said Marinette smiling fondly.

"Then it's decided!" said Jagged, scaring the four teens.

"Jagged!" exclaimed Marinette.

"What? I just wanted to propose you four to go onstage with me" said Jagged.

"Oh, I'm sorry Jagged but I'm very tired after the contest, so I'll be resting for a bit" said Marinette.

"Okey, but make sure not to bore yourself" said Jagged. "Oh! How about we leave this fine gentleman with you so he keeps you awake?"

"Yeah Adrien, keep her company, we want to rock" said Alya as she took a microphone of Nino, making both boys open their eyes like plates.

"I will do it, I couldn't leave her alone just like that anyway" said Adrien glaring at Alya.

"I'm sorry bro, I didn't knew" whispered Nino to the model.

"It's okay man, just make sure she doesn't spread a word" said Adrien.

"What's going on?" asked Marinette suspicious.

"Not much, just Alya trying to pulll a prank on me, right Alya?" said Adrien sending a murderous glare.

"Sheesh Buttercups, calm down. I'll be good" said Alya putting her hands on the air.

"What were you trying to do Al?" asjed Marinette.

"Not much, just use Nino to get some info" said Alya. She put her hand over Adrien's shouders. "I'll tell ypu what Sunshine, I won't say a thing but you'll have to get me some good scoops".

"I'll see what I find" said Adrien thinking she wanted some rumours.

"Well then, let's rock!" said Jagged enthusiastically.

Jagged and their friends left them alone and the awkard silence settled again. Without a topic to talk about, they both simply went to find a place to seat and sit down on a small coach. They heared the music and hoped their friends where having a good time, but no conversation .

"Um... How are you doing?" asked Adrien, mentally cursing himself for being so brilliant.

"Oh, fine, the party has been great until now, even if it wasn't what I expected. And you?" asked Marinette.

"I think it's one of the best parties I've attended. At least this one isn't super formal" said Adrien with a small smile

"I think your dad and the mayor overdid themselves this time. It's really amazing" agreed Marinette.

"Hey, Marinette" said Adrien.

"Yes Adrien?" replied the bluenette.

"I was serious before, would you like to be my partner for the dance?" asked Adrien staring at her.

"Oh... Are you sure about that? I have to warn you, I have two left feet and a total lack of coordination" said Marinette, not daring to look at him.

"It doesn't really matters, it'd be fun to dance with you" said Adrien.

"Sure, it will be hilarious to see me stumbling and stepping on you" said Marinette sarcastically.

"I didn't mean that. Also, since when are you so sassy Mari?" said Adrien.

"Maybe it's since you became so curious" replied Marinette. "You almost sound like Chat Noir when he stops by, except that you're not trying to impress me".

"Well, you almost sound like Ladybug when she banters with Chat Noir, sassy but not rude" pointed Adrien smugly.

"Wasn't I your everyday Ladybug?" asked Marinette smugly.

"That's right. I guess I'll have to be your everyday Chat Noir then, won't I Merrynette?" punned Adrien.

"That was horrible even for Chat Noir standards" said Marinette rolling her eyes despite her smile.

"Your eye rolling is purrfect thought" said Adrien almost laughing.

"God, are you secretly Chat Noir's best friend? I wouldn't expect those from anyone but him!" said Marinette giggling.

"Ah, but I got what I wanted" said Adrien proudly.

"And what did you want exactly?" asked Marinette.

"To hear your meowvelous laugh" said Adrien winking.

Marinette snorted and giggled. "Okay, yes, your everyday Chat Noir title is granted good sir".

"You are a lovely and fair lady" said Adrien bowing his head.

"You really remembered Chat thought. He sometimes stops by my balcony when I'm outside. I think he just stops to make sure I don't get akumatized, but it's still nice from him to do so, he knows how to cheer me up" said Marinette smiling melancholically.

Adrien was quiet. He felt torn inside because he wanted to tell her, but at the same time he was afraid of her discovering him. After what had happened on the Weredad incident, Adrien was quite nervous around her, feeling atracted like a moth to a lamp, but also scared of what would she think if she knew that he had fallen in love with her after rejecting her. That would definetly mess things between them. Also, she had recently broken up with Luka, so she wouldn't probably be extasic about another relationship.

"Adrien?" asked Marinette worried.

"Uh? Oh, sorry, did you say anything, I was lost in thought" apologised Adrien.

"Oh, no, don't worry, I do that quite a lot" said Marinette with a gentle smile.

"Hey, do you want to know what is going to happen next?" said Adrien smiling again, but with a mischievous look on his facr.

"Okay, surprise me model boy" said Marinette.

"My father is going to give an award to someone. For what I know, it will be an award for dedication put into work, but since only Lila and I work for him here, Lila will be getting the price" said Adrien. "What she doesn't know thought it's that the price is a giant Toblerone".

"No way. She's getting a guant Toblerone? I'd love to get one" pouted Marinette.

"Well, anyone who recieved a price today is getting ten normal toblerones, so don't worry. The funny part is that Lila hates chocolates" said Adrien smiling.

"No way. I knew she is quite a bitter person, but not liking chocolate?" said Marinette.

"There is also an extra part. While she doesn't know it, her reaction to the price behind tge courtains will be filmed and reproduced for everyone" said Adrien. "I know having to put up with her has been a lot with you, but as I promised, she's going to get what she deserves without you having to be the bad person".

"I could kiss you right now" said Marinette, then realised her words and blush.

After an awkward silence Adrien decided to talk. "Marinette?"

"Yes?"

"Forgive me if I'm rude but, do you like someone?" said Adrien.

"I- I do" said Marinette blushing. "Ther-re a-are two boys..."

"I see" said Adrien using his model smile to hide his sadness, already deciding he wouldn't be one of the boys. "I used to like a girl, but the feeling wasn't mutual. Then I dated Kagami, giving her a chance, but all this time I haven't acknowledged my real feelings. Yes, I liked that first girl, but there's a girl I've been in love since I met her even if I didn't know until recently".

"I see..." said Marinette a bit down. "I do still like the boy who stole my heart with his kindness, but I let someone else took the chance of being with him. And there is this other boy, that has loved me for a long time, but I rejected him because I couldn't afford to get distracted by him. And here I am now, liking him secretly because it would be unfair for him and because I still can't be distracted by him".

"Seems like we both have it bad" said Adrien.

"Yeah, we do" agreed Marinette.

"Can I ask you, if it's not a problem, who are those boys?" asked Adrien sheepishly.

"Only if you tell me who are the girls first" said Marinette forcing herself to smile.

"Heh, I can't tell yo who is the girl that doesn't loves me because if work secrecy. And the other one..." said the blond.

"It's okay. I can't tell you who liked me anyway, it's part of a secret. But the guy who stole my heart..." said Marinette, doubting whether she should tell him or not. She feels Tikki patting her calmly on her leg, supporting her no matter what she chooses and she decides. "The other one is you, Adrien. Since you gave me that umbrella you've greedily taken my heart prisioner. It's okay if you don't like me, but I felt the need to finally tell you".

Adrien was speechless and almost failed to notice her standing up to leave, but he noticed. "Wait, Marinette!" said the model desperate.

"I'm coming in a bit Adrien, I just... I just need to go to the bathroom a bit" said Marinette with a fake smile that broke Adrien's heart.

"You can go later I need to tell you something first" said Adrien determined. "Marinette... I like you as well. You were the girl I've been loving for a long time, but I just realized how much I loved you a few weeks ago".

"You..." said Marinette doubting, but shake her head and put that fake smile again. "There's no need to lie Adrien, we both know you're way out of my league, it was just a stupid innocent dream. I won't hate you, don't worry. We can still be friends. That's what I've always been after all".

"But I don't want to be just your friend!" said Adrien desperatedly. "I wasn't lying Marinette. I like you, a lot. This is not a lie or something to keep a good relationship between us, I swear!"

Marinette looked doubtful. "I'm sorry Adrien, I really want to believe you, because I'm selfish and I want you and I want to have a life with you. But this is so surreal... How can I- How can I know you really like me and this is not just... Confusion? I don't really know..."

Adrien got serious, gebtly grabbed her hand and place it on his chest. "Can you feel- Wait, why is there something poking on my chest" said as he let Marinette's hand and pulled out a microphone. "Okay. I'm dead. Please bury me alive" said blushing as he let the microphone fall, but Mari caught it, analyzed it and turned it off.

"Why has Alya put a microphone on you?" asked Marinette weirded out.

"Uh..." said Adrien as he blushed so much that even Marinette noticed.

"Adrien? Do you have a fever? You’re completely red" asked Marinette worried.

“I’m okay, it’s just that... Well... How do I say it? I told something embarrassing to Nino and Alya happened to listen to it through the microphone. So I guess she put the microphone to hear about what we where talking. Wait, she knows you have feelings for me, right? That’s why” realised Adrien and covered his face.

“Adrien, i’m confused. Why did she put it on you? Was it because of what you told Nino?” asked Marinette.

“I think so, but it’s just one of the reasons. The other is... Well, you said you like me, so if she knows, she put it on me and left us alone because...” said Adrien, blushing an awful lot and not finishing his sentence.

“Because she expected us to confess? Why would she expect that? She knows that everytime I try to confess ends... Not well” said Marinette.

“Uh... Remember I told something very ebarrassing to Nino and Alya heard it? I may have or may have not confessed my love for you in a very cheesy way to Nino and she might have or might have not heard the whole thing through the microphone” said Adrien awkwardly scratching his neck and not daring to look at Marinette.

She fell silence. She was processing what she had just heard and was double checking that yes, Adrien Agreste loved her and Nino and Alya knew that before her. So that’s why tey were being so pushy. That’s why they had left us alone to go with Jagged even if neither of them were fans. Oh no. She had been so rude with Adrien. She had doubted him and his feelings. Marinette almost cried, but Adrien put a hand on her shoulder.

“Marinette? Mari? Are you okay? I’m seriously freaking out right now” said Adrien sick worried.

“I’m fine... Sorry. It’s just... Everything hit me so hard and I was processing everything and I’m sorry I was so rude with you or that I doubted you or your feelings. I’m trash” said Marinette.

"Marinette, you are not trash" said Adrien deadly serious grabbing her by her shoulders and looking at her directly to the eyes. "I get why it was hard to believe. I mean, it's like if Ladybug confessed to Chat Noir suddenly after him pinning her for so much time".

"But I'm still a bad person" complied Marinette.

"You are not Marinette. You are the most amazing person I've ever known. You've been through a lot, an awful lot of bad experiences and yet you've been positive enough about it to surpass any hardship. But you are human Marinette, you can doubt too. I mean, it is weird if the person you've liked for a long time suddenly confessed that they love you. I would doubt as well. But that's because we are humans and, personally? I think that's our best trait" said Adrien.

"I'm sorry for being such a worrywart" said Marinette trying to look away to hide her blush.

"Don't be, I think it's endearing. It's part of your Marinette charm" said Adrien smiling.

"Thank you" said Marinette mostly to herself.

"So... What are we going to do?" asked Adrien awkwardly.

"What do you mean?" asked Marinette confused.

"Well, our so lovely friends might have heard a huge part of it, and we both kniw they'll want to know what happened between us and..." said awkwardly blushing the boy, but Marinette put a finger on his lips, shutting him.

"No need to worry about that. They can suffer a bit for being so nosy" said Marinette smirking.

"Okay. Then... Marinette?" asked Adrien.

"Yes Adrien?"

"I love you. Will you be my girlfriend?" said nervously Adrien bowing like he had seen on anime.

"Pffft. Adrien, there's no need to bow you know? I think you've been seeing too much anime" said Marinette giggling incontrolably.

"I- Uh- Hm...." babbled Adrien very, very embarrassed.

"I do want to be your girlfriend dummy" said Marinette and gave him a peck on the cheek. "Is this clear enough?"

"I don't know, I think a few more woud make it clearer" said Adrien smiling stupidly. "Wait, you gave me a peck on the cheek on Hero's day last year as well, didn't you? Was that like this?"

"Who knows? It's been a year and a bunch of months after all" teased Marinette.

"Please, don't make me feel more stupid than when I realised I liked you and I had been wrongly calling you a great friend" said Adrien pouting embarrassed.

"At least you recognised what you did wrong, even if it took you so long. I mean, it hurt so much to be one sidely friendzoned without having confessed" said Marinette feigning hurt dramatically.

"Hey! I'm sorry for being so oblivious!" said Adrien.

"Don't worry, I'll forgive you someday" said Marinette and kissed him on his nose. "At least you got another kiss".

"It's not fair! You're teasing me too much Marinette!" said Adrien.

Someone coughed behind them. "I hope I'm not interrumping anything" said Gabriel Agreste.

"Dad! That's not what you think! It's-" began Adrien, but stopped when his father signaled him to do so.

"There is no need for excuses Adrien. I know you've like Miss Dupain-Cheng for quite a long time. At the same time, she has also liked you and from what I've seen, her feelings are nothing but pure love" declared Gabriel Agreste. "I must say, she is an aspiring designer and a promising one. I would normally be worried if I didn't know about her, but I do aprove your relationship. I believe she'll be a great addition to the fashion world" said giving Marinette a discrete tender smile.

"Th-Thank you sir" said Marinette blushing.

"However, I'm not here to talk about your newly founded relationship" said Gabriel. "Marinette, as Miss Miraculous there is something you must do. If you may, please follow me".

"Good luck Marinette" said Adrien holding her hand.

"Thank you" said Marinette and then followed Adrien's father.

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Part (1/2)