#girl help 'the colors in our universe are the same as the ones in his home dimension because our universe is made out of a piece of bill'

[godsfavoritescientist]

How do I explain the ways in which the bill origins fic 'A Romance of Many Dimensions' by haley3 rewired my brain without needing to give paragraphs upon paragraphs of context. The fic is something like 200,000 words long. Almost every single good moment calls back to things that are set up earlier in the fic

[7ndipity]

Make an Effort

Namjoon x Reader

Summary: When you ask Joon to be your fake boyfriend, he ends up finding out about your very real crush on him. Luckily for you, the feeling’s mutual.

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: swearing, mentions of drinking, lil suggestive, not proofread(when are they ever tho?)

A/N: Thanks to the lovely anon who requested this!

Masterlist

Requests are open

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You and Namjoon had the kind of friendship where you’d known each other long enough that you could ask each other to do pretty much anything and you would more than likely agree. Shoulder to cry on? You’re there. Hide a body? You’ll at least consider it.

And yet, it still managed to catch Joon off guard when you came bolting over to him in the middle of the party you were both attending and latched onto his arm.

“I need you to be my boyfriend for ten minutes.” You said frantically.

“What?!” He spluttered, nearly choking on his drink.

“One of my old roomates from university is here with her husband and I fucked up and told them I had a boyfriend and now they want to meet him!” You explained quickly.

“Why would you tell them that?!” He gaped at you.

“Because I’m a fucking idiot who should not be allowed to speak after drinking tequila, now will you please help me?!” You begged.

He hesitated for a brief moment before nodding. “Fine, ten minutes.”

“Thank youuu!!” You pressed a quick kiss to his cheek before pulling him along behind you through the crowd, oblivious to the sudden flush of crimson that was coloring Joons face due to your actions. He managed to compose himself though before you reached the table where your friend was sitting with a few other people.

“Guys, you remember Namjoon, right?” You said lightly, still holding onto his hand tightly.

There was a brief flurry of greetings as Joon smiled and nodded politely, slightly relieved that he did in fact remember your friend from the early days of your friendship.

You all talked comfortably for a few minutes, Joon finding it slightly too easy to slip into the role of pretend boyfriend, enjoying the feeling of your hand in his. He couldn’t help but wonder if this would be how it felt if he actually had the nerve to confess and tell you how he felt about you.

Too soon though, the moment came to an end as you released your hold on him to go get you both more drinks.

“So, how long have you and Y/n been together?” Your friend asked, trying to make small talk.

“Not long. It’s uh, still pretty new.” He said somewhat awkwardly, glancing towards where you’d disappeared.

“You make a really cute couple.” She said. “It’s nice to see that you two got together, especially considering how Y/n used to have the biggest crush on you back in university.”

“What?” His full attention flicked back to her, suddenly very interested in this conversation. You liked him?! This was brand new information to him.

“They didn’t tell you?” She asked, surprised. “I figured that’s how you got together.”

“No, I mean I knew,” He lied quickly. “I just didn’t realize it was common knowledge.”

“Oh, it wasn’t.” She laughed, understanding. “They never actually told me, but it was pretty obvious, you know? Like, I remember when you started dating some one girl during our senior year, they wouldn’t leave the house for like a week.”

He remembered you avoiding him for a week, but you’d told him it was because you had the flu and didn’t want him to catch it.

Was that the real reason? And if so, why hadn’t you said anything?

He knew the likely answer though before he’d even finished the thought, because it was the same reason why he’d never said anything about his own feelings; you hadn’t wanted to fuck up your friendship in the event that the other person didn’t feel the same way.

The fear of potentially losing one of the most important people in his life had been more than enough to keep him from vocalizing his feelings for this long, he could imagine how it must’ve felt for you.

But now that he knew you did feel the same(or at least used to, but he was hoping it was still true), the question was how to proceed with this information.

He supposed he could just ask you point blank, but knowing you, you would likely bristle and deny it in an attempt to avoid the potential embarrassment or rejection. Something more subtle would be the better route.

He was pulled out of his thoughts by you returning with the drinks.

“What’s got you so smiley?” You asked, noticing his odd expression.

“Just hearing funny stories about you.” He said lightly, a plan beginning to form in his head as he spoke.

“Nothing too compromising, I hope.” You said, only half joking.

“Nah, just interesting.” He said, changing the subject. “Hey, You wanna grab breakfast together tomorrow?”

You looked up in surprise. “I guess. What’s the occasion?”

“Nothing, just thought it’d be fun.” He replied with a shrug.

“Okay, sure.” You nodded.

“Cool, It’s a date.” He said, biting back a grin as he caught the way your eyes flickered to him at his choice in phrasing, but said nothing.

He managed to surprise you again the next morning when you opened the front door to find him waiting with a bouquet of pink carnations.

“Morning.” He said brightly.

“What are those?” You asked, ignoring his greeting, distracted by the flowers.

“They’re for you.” He said, as if it was obvious.

“Why?” You asked, brow furrowing in confusion.

“I saw them on the way over and remembered you saying that they were one of your favorites, so I thought you’d like some.” He said, offering you the bouquet.

Hesitantly, you took them, still eyeing him curiously. “Thank you…”

“You’re welcome.” He smiled. “Now, breakfast?”

The rest of the morning passed fairly normally, though it didn’t pass your notice that Namjoon seemed to be extra attentive towards you, opening doors and pulling your chair out for you. He also refused to let you pay, even though it was technically your turn.

“I’m the one that asked you out, I should be the one to pay.” He said, quickly swiping his card.

“Don’t say it like that,” You said with an awkward laugh. “It makes it sound like we’re on a date.”

“I mean, I was your fake boyfriend last night.” He said with a smirk, making you flush slightly.

You didn’t say anything more about his behavior until later as he was walking you to your door.

“Did something happen?” You asked suddenly.

“What do you mean?” He asked.

“You’re being like, really nice today.” You said, making him laugh.

“Am I not allowed to be nice to you?” He asked.

“No, you are,” You said. “I was just wondering what the reason was.”

“I just felt like it, is that okay?”

“I guess so.” You shrugged. “I’m just not used to having someone put this much effort into a ‘date’.”

“Well, I’m gonna have to change that.” He grinned, trying to quell the thrill in his chest at your referring to the outing as a date.

For the next week, his odd behavior continued, taking you on outings to the park or to dinner, buying you little gifts, texting you good morning every day, he’d even got you both little lego models to build together while you hung out at his place.

“Babe, can you pass me that piece?” He asked distractedly, the simple petname being the thing that finally made you snap, freezing for a moment as you stared at him.

“Why are you doing this?” You asked abruptly.

He glanced up in confusion. “Doing what?”

THIS!” You gestured. “The dates, the gifts, the ‘babe’? Why are you acting like there’s something between us all of a sudden? Why are you trying to get my hopes up when I know nothing will-”

Your words were silenced by his lips suddenly on yours, soft but insistent, as his hands came up to gently cradle your face. After a few seconds, he slowly pulled away, cautiously meeting your wide-eyed stare.

“Because I want there to be something between us.” He confessed. “I want you to get your hopes up. I want you to know what it feels like to have someone make an effort to show their love for you, because I do. I love you, Y/n.”

For several long seconds, you stared at him in shock, before suddenly tackling him, knocking him back against the sofa as you reconnected your lips with his.

“I love you too.” You managed to mumble in between kisses, earning a muffled chuckle from him as he returned your enthusiasm, hands fumbling to find purchase to pull you even closer, winding one arm around your waist while the other hand came up to rest on the back of your neck.

Eventually, you had to pull back for air, staring at each other with hooded eyes.

“So, does this mean I get to be your real boyfriend this time?” He joked, chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.

You let out a shaky laugh, already leaning back in. “Honey, you can be whatever you want.”

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @captainorangegoose

[joeys-babe]

Joey B Blurbs: Can’t Help Falling in Love

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Summary: You surprise Joe when he gets home from practice by putting on your wedding dress from your wedding back in March of 2022.

Warnings: Fluff

Pairing: Joe Burrow x reader

Imagine universe: Into The Mystic

A/N: Joe isn't injured.

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*December 30th, 2023 - 22 weeks pregnant*

(y/n’s pov)

Joe was currently away at an early morning practice, preparing for the Chief’s game tomorrow.

The team would be getting on a plane for Kansas City tonight, and Zac called an ‘emergency’ practice this morning.

Since Joe was away, I was doing some seriously needed deep cleaning in the house.

Tyson and Miles’s room would have to be last to be cleaned since they wouldn't be up for a while.

I will never take for granted the fact that the terrible twos don't seem to be a thing to the twins. They're closer to three and have remained their happy selves.

The reason I mention this is because when they do wake up, they'll happily help me clean their room without being asked.

My heart warmed when I walked into what will be our baby girl’s nursery once she's born and old enough to be moved out of Joe and I’s room.

The walls were painted a cream color with an accent wall of vintage floral wallpaper.

Joe was the one who approached me with the idea, and I loved it.

Her name had a vintage feel, so her nursery having the same vibe was perfect.

One thing about our baby girl is that she was already 100% a daddy’s girl.

She loved it when Joe talked to my stomach, as she would kick after every sentence that left his mouth.

Joe ate every bit of it up, already taking his girl-dad role very seriously. He was so involved in my pregnancy, making sure to be there for his wife and beloved baby girl.

He just loved her so much.

My thoughts made me smile to myself as I looked around her unfurnished room and absentmindedly rubbed my bump.

Soon, I snapped out of my thoughts and remembered my cleaning.

——

After getting Joe and I’s bedroom and bathroom cleaned, it was time to move onto the closet.

I saved it for last because I knew it was going to be a doozy.

With constant packages of clothing items arriving at the house for Joe’s game-day fits, there was always a huge stack of boxes in here.

Usually, after the stack reaches a certain height, Joe would take them out to the dumpster.

Lately, though, he's fallen behind on his duties, and the stack was huge.

After clearing that out, I started going through my side of the closet, knowing Joe wouldn't exactly be happy if I moved his stuff around.

I knew I'd find some gems, doing a deep clean in my closet, but I didn't expect to find my wedding dress.

It looked just as beautiful as I remembered and it took my breath away.

Joe and I’s wedding back in March of 2022 was an absolute dream. We were so happy, nothing could sour our moods.

We looked back at our wedding photos all of the time, watching the videos of our vows being one of our favorite things.

I remembered a video I'd seen on TikTok last night of a wife putting on her wedding dress to surprise her husband, and I immediately decided to do it.

That is if the baby bump and growing boobs allow this dress to fit me.

It wouldn't necessarily be a prank or the usual trends that I've tried in him, so it would be a good change.

——

A few hours later, Tyson and Miles had been awake for a while, and we all got their room cleaned.

Joe would be home soon because he told me what time practice ended before he left this morning.

That being said, I was now upstairs trying to slip my wedding dress on.

Thankfully, the bodice part of the dress didn't quite reach my belly, so it was perfectly hidden under the skirt. I was a little surprised that my growing chest was able to stay contained under the fabric since I'd had to buy bigger bras since getting pregnant.

I didn't even attempt to try to zip the back of the dress up, though.

Moments later I could hear my phone ringing in the bedroom, and I had to practically waddle my way over there to get it.

It was Joe calling, probably telling me that he was on his way.

“Hey, Joey.” - you

“Hey, Mama. Just wanted to tell you that I'm leaving practice right now. I should be home in a bit.” - Joe

“Oh okay, how was practice?” - you

“As good as practice can be, I guess.” - Joe chuckled

I laughed along with him before he started talking again.

“How’s your day been? The boys and baby girl doing good?” - Joe

“We’re perfect. Just miss you. Princess has been a little restless today, probably wanting to talk to her daddy.” - you

“I miss you guys too, Imma be home soon. I promise to be with you till I have to leave tonight.” - Joe

“Okay. I love you, Joe. Be safe.” - you

“I will be. I love you too, so much. See you soon, my love.” - Joe

“See you soon. Bye.” - you

“Bye, baby.” - Joe hung up

Now I just have to wait.

——

I sat on the couch to the best of my ability, waiting for Joe to get home when I heard the garage door opening.

Tyson and Miles jumped off of the couch to go greet their dad, and soon I could hear that deep voice coming from the mud room.

“Where's your momma at?” - Joe

“Couch.” - Miles

A few moments later Joe’s heavy footsteps got louder and his tall frame was in my view.

His eyes lit up, and he stopped in his tracks when he saw me. Joe’s mouth dropped open into a taken-aback huge grin.

“Baby… woah. You look... woah.” - Joe

I stood up and walked closer to him, his eyes never once leaving me.

“y/n, you look so beautiful. I don't even know what to say.” - Joe

Standing on my tiptoes to place a kiss on his lips, Joe wrapped his arms around my waist.

“Where’d your bump go?” - Joe laughed

I turned to the side and flattened my hands around it, causing Joe to laugh and reach for it.

Joe rubbed over my bump for a second before pulling his hand back to take in everything.

“I’m not even gonna lie though, I will need your help taking this thing off.” - you

“Wouldn't be the first time.” - Joe smirked

“Joseph Lee!” - you playfully hit his arm

“I’m not lying though!” - Joe

——

Later, after Joe helped me out of my dress, he gave me something that he had brought home but forgot to give me because he got distracted by me in my dress.

It was some Mexican food that he had picked up pm his way home from practice since I had told him this morning that I was craving it.

Now, we were sitting on the couch together as I ate.

“Thank you for this.” - you took a bite of your chimichanga

“You’re so welcome, Mama.” - Joe kissed your cheek

A few seconds of silence went by as Joe stole a bite of my chimichanga.

“Did my wedding dress look good on me still? After having twins and currently being pregnant, I don't even want to know how different it looks on me.” - you

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Joe giving me a stank face, and I couldn't help but laugh when I turned my head to face him.

“What’s that look for?” - you laughed

“You’re fucking with me, right? Like you're joking?” - Joe

“No?” - you

“y/n. No matter how many changes your body has gone through you are as beautiful as the girl I dated in high school, all through college, and the girl I said I do to. Wanna know why?” - Joe

“Why?” - you

“Because you're the same girl you were before you had our babies. And to be completely honest with you, those changes make you even more gorgeous than before. To me, you don't have any imperfections because I love every part of your body. Those little stretch marks you complain about? They are a reminder of your body growing to accommodate your babies. Your belly getting bigger? That's home to our princess. I say all that to say this. y/n you are the most beautiful woman on this planet, and I love you so much.” - Joe

Joe wiped the tears that were dripping down my cheeks. They were happy tears time ten.

“I didn't mean to make you cry on your chimichanga.” - Joe

I laughed and leaned into his touch, savoring the feel of his skin against mine.

“They're happy tears, Joe, and thank you for the pep talk… I needed that.” - you

“I know you did, baby. Now finish your food, Imma talk to the baby.” - Joe leaned down and looked at you, asking for permission to lift your shirt

“Go ahead.” - you grinned

What would I do without him?

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Authors note: more of an imagine than a blurb but whatevs

Request for this fic;

Hope you enjoyed! 💕

[deantfwinchester]

A New Chapter

Pairing: No-Outbreak!AUJoel x Teacher!Reader (pregnant)

Moving forward in the narrative a bit y'all. Our girl is pregnant now, so we're a couple years into their marriage. The premise of this one's a little goofy, but he looks so pretty in the Gladiator trailer I couldn't help myself.

Summary: You and Sarah go Halloween costume hunting and find the perfect family costume, much to Joel's chagrin. He'll do just about anything for his little girl, though. :)

Warnings: fluff as per usual. a teeny bit of angst and emotional h/c, but so so fluffy. a couple of suggestive little innuendos for fun, but very much PG as usual.

A/N: I'll make a little timeline at some point explaining how these all fit into the same universe, but they're definitely the same couple so far! I've got plenty more planned for these two, and I'm excited to keep going, but I've also got a kind of multi-chap AU situation I may try to write? Idk, guess we'll see which bulleted fic I'm inspired to expand next, lol.

Word Count: 3.3k

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“You can’t be serious,” Joel looks at you, exasperated. 

“Serious as a heart attack,” you respond, smiling wide. 

“Hell no!” he says, amused at the very idea. 

“What, Sarah’s got that precious little goddess dress from the costume store, and they were right next to it!” you exclaim. 

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You’ve just presented Joel with a gold and white roman general costume you found while you and Sarah were shopping for Halloween costumes. You took her to the costume shop after picking her up from school and the two of you were over the moon. Halloween is your favorite holiday hands down - you and Sarah have always had that in common. It was one of the first things you bonded over, and Joel was thrilled that the two of you wanted to do that together. You hadn’t been looking forward to finding a maternity costume though - it was still early September, but you knew one that fit well right now would be pretty uncomfy by the end of October.

You and Sarah walk a few aisles in before stopping in your tracks at a beautiful mythology display - long dresses and beautiful accessories with the names of different Greco-Roman goddesses in a row, with a family-costume display showing mannequins of an adult man, adult woman, and a teen girl and young boy. The young boy’s costume had a shield and chest plate of worn-looking plastic, and the teen girl’s costume was a long ombré-colored dress with little gold appliqués printed on the hem.

Sarah was enchanted. And you were enamored with the childlike wonder she felt touching the low-quality polyester and spandex blend. The adult women’s costume mirrored the toga-like shape of the girl’s, but was one-shouldered and of a different shade. Sarah saw them and immediately knew what she wanted to be for Halloween this year - a princess in this goddess dress and you an empress to match. The names on these costumes were inaccurate as hell, but you weren’t here to hold Spirit Halloween to historical accuracy or academic integrity. The look on her face made it clear you couldn’t say no - especially when you saw the Maternity option hanging in a thick plastic bag next to it closed with a plastic snap. At least this costume would hang loosely no matter how much you’re showing by Halloween. Might even drive Joel a little crazy. 

Once you agreed to it, you decided just the two of you couldn’t do it alone - not when there was only one member of your family to be left out. You grab the Adult Men’s costume hanging next to the mannequin - it was different from the boy’s, not some sort of battle armor, but labeled Emperor to match the adult women’s. It’s white and lined in gold leaf appliqués just like the goddess costumes. It's a beautiful costume, with a cape and a little caged skirt thing hanging over the tunic. You’re especially fond of the myriad golden accessories accompanying this costume - wide bangles and a little headband of golden leaves. You’re torn between cackling at how much Joel would undoubtedly protest such an elaborate costume and practically salivating at the image of him wearing it. He’d look ridiculously hot in this costume — you’d just need to convince him. 

Joel isn’t totally averse to costume-wearing, especially for his girls’ favorite holiday. He would put on a little something here and there to appease you or Sarah - maybe a cape or a few accessories. You’d seen pictures from one Halloween a few years before you met them with Sarah in a pretty little pink fairy costume and Joel in a much too small pair of wings and a feathery tiara, holding a matching wand. Seeing it never fails to make you smile.

Joel is a wonderful father to Sarah - he can always tell her No when necessary, whether it has to do with her health and safety, development, or due to financial constraints, but always explains to her why. As much as he’d love to spoil her to pieces, he wants to make sure she grows up with a realistic understanding of the world around her, and understands both her privilege and the difference between Want and Need. The way he communicates with her and makes parenting choices with a focus on the kind of person she is and will become is in large part what drew you to him - to a place where you not only felt comfortable being with him, but having a child with him. You are more than confident he’ll be a wonderful father to your next child as well — he’d made that clear when you’d first found out.

When it wasn’t necessary to tell Sarah No, however - he couldn’t ever look his little girl in the eye and resist. Letting her polish his nails, play with glittery make-up, and wearing little wings to match her own were just a few of the things he’d done to make her smile. If the only reason to say “No” was that he didn’t want to, well it simply wasn’t reason enough.

With this knowledge in mind, you were fairly certain Joel could be convinced to put on this elaborate costume - maybe with some work boots instead of the mannequin’s little sandals, though. And a pair of shorts under the skirty pieces, probably. Once you and Sarah have picked out the shades you want and spent way too much time staring at the wall of accessories for your own costumes, you leaf through the men’s costume bags for Joel’s size and snag one off the rack. Sarah’s eyes go wide when you turn around and raise your eyebrows at her, and a huge grin spreads across her face - she’s laughing excitedly at just the prospect of her dad in this elaborate costume, and shaking her head vigorously while agreeing - it has to come home. 

____________________________________________

“C’mon baby. Y’all’s are beautiful but this?,” says Joel, gesturing to the elaborate white costume you’ve removed from the bag and hung up to present to him in all its gilded glory. “This is insane. Looks more like a damn wedding dress than a Halloween costume.”

“Oh but Joel, it’s so beautiful! I know it’s a little elaborate, but Sarah and I are already gonna be matching. We want you to do it with us! Dress as a family for the party,” you plead, and you can see his resolve beginning to crack. He shakes his head, both hands on his hips, and glowers at you, though it lacks any real contempt.

“Darlin’ I think it’s precious that you and Sarah got these little matching costumes. Hell, nothing could make my heart happier than seeing you two looking so gorgeous together in these pretty dresses she chose. But y’all are my beautiful little stars of the show, let’s be honest,” he finishes, placing his hand heavily on your hip and drawing you closer. “You, Sarah, and her perfect little sister on the way,” he grins, resting his other hand on your belly and locking eyes with you. 

“That’s kinda the thing though, Joel. This is the last Halloween we can do this, just the three of us. Every Halloween after this will be a different kind of special, but it’ll never just be us and Sarah again after this year. You know she’d love it, no matter what the reason,” you say with a slight smirk, knowing you and Sarah both want this, at least in part, to mess with Joel. 

He locks eyes with you,and his are gentle and wistful at the idea. You’re both elated at the mere thought of the future ahead with your growing family, but the change is a big shift for all of you. You worry about Sarah more than anything. You’ve had this conversation a couple of times already — the age gap between Sarah and the baby is so big, you just worry she’ll feel left out when you two get busy, or get hyper focused on the baby those first few months. 

You aren’t afraid to admit that you’re scared — scared you won’t be able to give the baby everything she needs or scared you won’t bond like you should. It’s a big relief to you, a new mom, that this won’t be Joel’s first rodeo. He’s already assuaged your worries on multiple occasions during this pregnancy and preparation period with his existing knowledge in child rearing. There’s not a man in the world better suited to fatherhood, and his quiet confidence and reassurance when your anxieties arise comfort you more than he’d ever understand.

But the fear is still there — fear of not being enough, leaving Joel to feel like he’s alone in this all over again, even with you standing beside him. You’re especially scared you won’t ensure Sarah continues to get all the attention and love she needs. You know fully well that your love can only multiply — it does so a little each year a new set of students arrives at your classroom door — but your attention can unfortunately divide, and sometimes will, despite your best efforts. 

Yes you both want to mess with Joel a little with your request that he wear this elaborate costume that’ll make him a bit bashful; but more than anything, you want him to do it with the two of you for Sarah. To make that choice to remind her that the two of you would do anything for her — as goofy as the request may be — no matter how much your lives change in the coming years. You want to do as many special things for her as possible beforehand — and you need his help for this one. 

“I just — I know it’s silly, but I want her to enjoy this chapter as much as possible before things change. And I know you do too, I’m just…,” you look down at your feet as you say this, unable to find the words to continue. Your eyes mist over as you think about it, and before you know it, you’re in his arms, face pressed tightly against his chest. His hand holds the back of your head, pulling you close, thumb moving gently back and forth over your crown, soothing the concerns he could see encroaching as you spoke. 

“Sweetheart.‘S not silly at all,” he pauses, searching for the words to help you find solace in your unease. “I know you’re worried about that, I do. And do you know how much it means to me that this is on your mind? That you’re busy growing a little person in there, having to think about mothering a baby for the first time, and she’s at the top of your list?” Joel stares at you with a sincerity that aches in your chest before he continues, “And that’s why I want you to remember that she knows. You’re an incredible mother already, baby, and none of that’s gonna change. The fact that you’re concerned about it in the first place is enough. I really believe that, baby. Sarah’ll always know that we’re here.”

You’re crying for real now, burying your face in his chest again as he squeezes you tight, resting his head on yours as it lies in the crook of his neck. He closes his eyes and holds you for a bit longer, slightly swaying back and forth to soothe you. He knows the hormones are playing a part in your worry and reaction, but also knows better than to identify them as such. No matter the cause, you’re experiencing these feelings — and no matter how fleeting they are, he’ll make sure you get what you need. 

After a minute or two of holding you in silence, Joel pulls his head back and looks down at you, rubbing your back to rouse you from your trance. You look up at him to see a small smile on his face and enough warmth in his eyes to have you weeping all over again.

“Alright darlin’, let’s go give this ridiculous getup a shot,” he says, gesturing toward the bedroom with his head.

“Really Joel?,” you ask, voice filled with hope and gratitude. 

“Course baby. If I’m gonna wear it, gonna damn well make sure it fits right.”

“Wait’ll you see the accessories!” you say excitedly, wiping your eyes and sniffing back the last of your tears.

“Oh good lord,” he huffs out, rolling his eyes playfully before grabbing your hand and leading you to the bedroom, costume in hand.

______________________________________________________

~ Halloween Night ~

“Have I told you yet how gorgeous you look in this costume?” you ask in Joel’s ear as Sarah runs ahead of the two of you toward the door to Tommy’s. 

“Only about seven times since I first put it on, sweet girl,” he says to you through a smile, chuckling at your insistence. “Better give it a rest, or my head’s gonna be too big to fit through the door by the time we get home.” He smirks at you, squeezing your hand in his as you cross the yard. 

“Ah, I think it’ll fit just fine,” you reply, rubbing a gentle hand against his chest. “Did I tell you how sexy you are tonight yet?,” you whisper closer to his ear now, smiling while you do it, grinning wider as a light blush touches his cheeks before he smiles at you as well.

“Hmm, I’m not sure. Mighta mentioned it once or twice.” His brows furrow as he feigns consideration. “I’d much rather talk about how incredible you look tonight, darlin’,” he whispers into your neck before pressing a kiss to your bare shoulder, all too softly for the hormones rushing through your system. He knows it too, when your eyes go wide and your own cheeks flush, and is far too satisfied with himself for your liking. Years into your relationship and he can still drive you wild with so little — you have plenty of tricks up your sleeve as well, but the second trimester has been giving him an unfair advantage lately. 

Before you can gather your thoughts, you’re behind Sarah at Tommy’s door as he opens it to greet you, cowboy hat on and beer in hand. Otherwise, still dressed in his work flannel and jeans. Damn, Joel’s gotta be jealous right now. 

Tommy hugs Sarah and ushers her inside before looking at the two of you, eyes widening as he takes in Joel’s appearance, pretending to hide the elation growing on his face at seeing his brother in such an elaborate outfit. 

“Well ain’t that a lotta gold? Not sure what I expected when Sarah told me, but this wasn’t it,” he says, biting back a laugh. “Gotta say brother, didn’t think you had it in ya,” he says, clapping Joel on the shoulder, unable to conceal his entertained grin any longer. Joel rolls his eyes in response, and along with Tommy, looks to you.

“Now you look beautiful honey. Though I gotta say, if you’re goin for one of the Vestal Virgins, I think you may be in trouble,” he jokes, looking down at your growing bump and pulling you in for a hug.

“Aren’t you a riot,” you say flatly, rolling your eyes and smiling at his comment before hugging him back, “Hi Tommy. Y’all having fun in here?”

He moves aside so you and Joel can enter the house and Joel follows after Sarah to grab you both a drink. He’ll grab a beer like his brother, while you’re relegated to a soda without caffeine for the time being. 

“Course we are!” He waits until Joel moves further away and leans toward you with a mischievous glint in his eye. “I have to say — Thank you. Thank you so much. For that,” he gestures toward Joel at the little drink bar with Sarah. 

You chuckle a little with him, “You’re welcome. Go easy on him tonight though, alright? I know he’d much rather be wearing what you are right now,” you ask.

“Alright, alright, I promise. But please take pictures. Take so many pictures,” he laughs, and you laugh with him. “Seldom I get to see my brother like this, I’m gonna need a record of it.”

“Oh yeah, that’s kinda the idea. Speaking of which, you really put some effort in on the costume for tonight, huh?,” you ask, unimpressed, but good-natured.  

“Hey, I’m hosting! A little busy gettin’ everything together. Besides, a cowboy hat always suits me,” he gives a winning smile before changing the subject. “Now how are you and my little niece doing tonight?,” he asks, moving a hand down to your belly and bending a bit to greet the little one from outside. You place your hand on top of his and move it over to the side where you’ve been feeling the baby moving around lately.

“Say something to her again,” you instruct, “she’s been wiggling up a storm today.”

Tommy speaks to the baby above your belly again and you feel a little foot move ever so slightly against his hand. The way he lights up warms your heart, and you’re nearly overcome with emotion. He’s so excited to feel her that he hugs you to him once again. 

The two of you talk a bit longer about the newfound quickening, and you’re elated at his enthusiasm. It’s an incredible feeling, knowing just how much this baby will be loved — how surrounded she’ll be with family, and how happy everyone will be to have her there. Before you can think yourself into happy tears, Joel returns, smiling wide overhearing his brother’s excitement. He has a beer in one hand and an odd-looking green drink in the other, adorned with a black bendy draw covered in skulls. Your eyes widen as he hands you the cloudy slime-colored monstrosity. Tommy looks warily at the drink, and excuses himself to go talk to Sarah instead. 

“Oh Joel, what is that?!” you ask amused.

“Go on, try it darlin’” he says, gesturing for you to take a sip.The morning sickness had been rough in the beginning, and though it had tapered a few weeks back, you weren’t exactly looking to reawaken the nausea anytime soon. 

You sip with hesitation. It’s surprisingly tasty, a little fruity and fizzy. When you look down in it to find two gummy eyeballs staring back at you, bobbing around in the green. You laugh aloud at the sight, and Joel smiles so wide his eyes nearly close - he has two favorite sounds, and that’s one of them. Soon enough, he’ll have three. 

“It’s delicious, but what the hell is it?,” you ask through the laughter. 

“Sarah and I thought you might like a little Halloween mocktail to shake things up. I think it’s lemonade, sprite, and some of that blue stuff? Might be some pineapple or orange juice in there too, I think Sarah just started adding stuff. Gummy eyeballs were apparently a necessary garnish - she said they’re ‘on theme’ and that you’d agree.”

“She’s very right. Thank you sweetie, I appreciate it,” you say, taking another sip before kissing his cheek. You got him this time, and he grows a slight bashful blush at the public affection, but it’s never unwelcome. 

“Course. Happy to experiment for you anytime, sweetheart,” he grins back and you lose the battle, jaw dropping open a bit in response, eyes wide at him. 

He laughs again and puts his arm around your waist, pulling you into his side, before kissing you gently, just enough to keep the rise going. The two of you look over to see Tommy and Sarah talking excitedly, mixing some sort of other “punch,” this time in a shade of red. You raise your cup to Joel’s lips, and he takes a sip, looking surprised at the quality of their amateur mixology. You lean your head against his shoulder as you both look on at the party, wistfully watching your daughter enjoy herself. You stay there for a while, doing everything to remember the final Halloween of this beautiful chapter, just before a new one begins.

[the-dragon-hearted]

Part 2

There is a universe, somehow, where Silco drowns again.

It's not a quick sort of thing - never is. That time he spent under the waves, tasting the sick concoction of Piltover filth and Zaun's rot, it may have been the longest moments of his life. Vander's hands around his throat didn't help in that regard.

This drowning is... different.

The decay of Zaun's dying streets is still there: the taste of his home akin to a corpse. It's curling up on itself after too much abuse and crying for justice. The stench of Piltover is there too: metals and shoe polish. Smoke too... if he went up to the surface and took a breath he'd smell Vander's last moments of glorious violence.

He doesn't.

He stays in his office below the waves, the river waters twisting the light into geometric patterns that dance around the sad conglomeration of lost souls. He's... drowning, and it fills him with familiar rage. This helplessness. This confusion. The same damn question ripping into his brain like a certain mouse into his late cat.

Why, Vander. Why?

What did he do to deserve... this?

The wily witty one, Mylo, sits at Silco's desk, at its corner. He's spinning a pencil around mindlessly, staring at the fish through the glass. Claggor's taken a seat on the floor, close to the door but out of harm's way should it slam open. He's taken to picking at his sleeves, suffering in the silence that must be drowning them all.

Silco doesn't quite care to change that. He's drafting letters to critical players in his game and prestigious business partners (he's sticking his head in the dirt and hoping that if he tries hard enough it'll all go away).

The blue girl, Powder, she has no qualms with breaking the silence, humming away an old lullaby. A pathetic sort of call for Piltover's better nature, a reminder of the siblinghood between Zaun and her filthy brother of a nation. Powder doesn't know that, she just knows it at Felicia's lullaby - perhaps Vi's lullaby. She was too young to remember much of Felicia, surely. She's snatched one of Silco's nicer pens and taken a seat next to her sister, intent on taking that mechanical pen apart. Vi is unnaturally still, staring into space when ever Silco dares to glance at her.

He's glancing at all of them, like a cornered rat. Which is wrong in itself. He's the danger here - likely more dangerous than any enforcer the children could've run into. Yet they lounge, unsure of what else to do and far too shaken to question.

What Silco would give for Vander to kick down the door. What he would give to see that familiar rage burning in the man's eyes as he demanded to know where his children were. Only then would the world make sense again.

Silco would grab Mylo - the boy was the closest - and the knife in his desk was always in arm's reach. Vander would trade himself for one of the children and there the plan would all fall back into place. Vander, helpless. The children, dead. Silco, victorious, his vengeance complete and Zaun's future ensured.

Instead, he's playing office worker with four awkward orphans.

Why, Vander? Why him.

Of all the people - of all the requests -

The door flies open and Silco hates how his heart soars. The children jump to defensive positions in a familiar dance they've all learned from Vander. Big ones protect the younger. Weapons are whatever you have handy. Look mean - look tough. Don't show them you're scared.

It's not Vander, it's Sevika. She's hardly in the room before the exclamation leaves her shocked lips: "Vander's dea-"

She cuts off as her eyes snap to Vi, the biggest and brightest colored of the bunch. It seems even the ever-ready Sevika is shocked silent by this... ridiculous situation.

"Sevika?" Vi manages in desbelief.

Silco's newest enforcer looks to him for direction. Oh, joyous reunions all around. Silco leans back in his chair and throws her a scathing look.

"Sevika, say hello to our guests," he emphasizes, massaging his head.

This is a nightmare, somehow. It should've been the greatest turn of events - a ridiculous stroke of luck from a dead man's foolishness. Instead, it's a weight around Silco's neck, heavier than any hand. Trust. A fickle, dangerous thing.

A heavy thing.

Sevika does not say hello. She takes a long look at all the children and then stared incredulously at Silco, it doesn't take a mind reader to guess what she's asking.

What the fuck is going on, Silco?

He'd like to ask a certain someone the same thing, but apparently, Sevika heralded the news he'd expected and dreaded.

"You have news on Vander," he supposed.

Sevika shook her head with a sharp scoff of disbelief: "Yeah. He's dead. The enforcers just shot him down a few blocks from the Last Drop."

The children take the news predictably. Quietly, though. None of them speak a word, eyes watering but keeping their jaws clenched. Claggor and Mylo sit back down, Mylo laying back on the desk and spinning his pencil once again. Powder sniffles, trying to muffle her cries. Vi stays standing.

Vander's dead.

This isn't a bad joke. This isn't a trick or a trap or an idiotic attempt at... anything. Vander's dead and he left Silco everything.

He's drowning.

It's Vander's fault again. This time though, things are different. Silco fought his way out of that river, blood running down his face and sickness bubbling out of his lungs. A baptism of pain and betrayal - he'd walked away with a purpose: the same determination a gnawing fox has to escape a trap that caught its foot.

Now, there's no determination. There's no direction.

"You wanna tell me what's going on here?" Sevika demands as she saunters into the room and gestures to Vander's four children. Lost and alone and looking to Silco for his answer.

Vi's watching him closely, hands closing into a fist. She doesn't trust him, maybe she knows something. Maybe she's smart enough to recognize that Vander's friends wouldn't take the news of his death with a smile. She's hurting. She's angry. She's moments away from snapping - just like Vander would be in her place, but she stays quiet for the younger one behind her.

"I assume you mean our guests," Silco hums as he looks away from Vander's successor. There is a smile on his face, but it's one of necessity. He doesn't know how to feel so he settles on the reliable guise of amused near-apathy. It keeps him confident and all others unnerved.

Sevika throws him a very demanding look. She thinks he has the answers.

"Vander sent them," Silco muses after a moment, pretending to return back to his work. "It seems I'll be looking after them for the immediate future."

It slips out of him as easily as blood from a head wound. It trickles to the floor and stays there, staining the soles of his shoe with... sentimentality. And yet the moment he says it, the confusion eases.

Sevika is staring at him in disbelief. Mylo and Vi are watching him something... softer.

Relief.

This doesn't change anything - if anything it makes his path clearer. Vander's out of the equation. With proof of his backing, his territory and his sympathizers open themselves to Silco like clams in boiling water. The children are... useful.

They're Vander's. No point in killing them now that the old Hound is dead. Silco's never been one for waste... they'll be capable and useful.

This changes nothing.

"We'll move into his territory tomorrow. His absence will leave certain fools the fester," the order seems to relieve some of Sevika's nerves too. She likes plans of action.

"We're going home?" It's Powder who asks it, hope in her teary voice.

Silco manages a dry chuckle: "If only it could be so simple."

There will be turf wars, at least until Silco utilizes some of his more... useful tactics. Hopefully, Vander's softer alliances will be sympathetic to the children. They'll have to stomach Silco. It's taking a breath of fresh air as his mind begins to churn again: reworking his plans around the children and their painfully reminiscent late Father.

Like he said: they're useful. That's enough.

He can make it mutually beneficial, while not completely forsaking the words on that damn napkin he has half a mind to burn.

This changes nothing.

[epickiya722]

You know what, I expected that they would have Chloe not mention Chad at all. We already know they do not care about continuity.

But I'm going to tell you my problem with not having Chloe mentioning Chad.

Just throwing it out there, it's not that the fandom really cares about Chad like that. I don't really care about Chad like that. (They could have done better with his writing. As for a lot of other characters.)

It's not that the fandom is like "oh, how dare they take away our favorite white boy". It's not that. No, scratch that. It's part of this following reason.

It's that the OG VKs and AKs were done dirty before and it continues. Oh, but it's not just that. See, them leaving most of them out is an "excuse" for something else that I'll talk about later.

Just follow with me here.

Not too long ago they released the Red version of Uma's song, What's My Name. In the song there is this part...

This is Red's part, just so we're clear. They had her make remarks that the VKs are "middle-aged". Mind you while on a song belonging to UMA. The VKs would just be reaching their 20s at this time. Just their 20s!! If you're including Celia, Dizzy and the Smee Twins as VKs (because technically they are) they would probably still be in school.

What's makes this part worse is the "cradle to the grave" lyrics. The songwriters obviously were not thinking when they put that in. They didn't register what fans might they think when hearing those lyrics. Do I have to say it? Like, really think about it.

With this part of the song and no mention of Chad in Chloe's video, it's them saying "well, it's not like the AKs and rest of the VKs are important anyways!"

That's the problem right there. And that's a problem that leads into a bigger problem.

Let's think about the Sea Three. It's like they're already trying to replace them with Uliana, Hook and Morgie.

"But Uma is there!" They knew damn well that Uma would bring in more fans to watch that movie. Uma is a beloved character, why wouldn't they include her? It's the same reason Brandy and Paolo are back playing as Cinderella and Charming.

See, Disney will market off Black and other people of color. They'll be like "oh, we can give this character this, but not this". They can have some good traits, but they still have to get some bad. (Example, Tiana could be a princess!! But she had to spend most of her movie as a damn frog!)

Let me start with Uliana.

What sucks about Uliana and her crew to me is that it seems this time they really want fans to hate on a Black girl... again.

See, I bet in 2017 they didn't anticipate on fans adoring Uma and actually sympathizing with her. And it helps that China is a damn good actress and singer.

They made Uma the "big bad" in the second movie, continuing the "let's make the Black girls and women antagonistic" (Audrey, being played by Sarah Jeffery who is half Black, being mean to Mal and Cruella being played by a Black woman, Wendy Raquel Robinson).

Again, though, that shit didn't work so they're trying it again.

Don't believe me?

Here's the thing. If they wanted Bridget to have this sad backstory who was bullied... why did they make it a Black girl? And why is this character just so happen to be Uma's aunt and Ursula's sister? They couldn't have made another villain character be her bully? To be the reason as to why Bridget aka Queen of Hearts hates Cinderella? In fact, how about Maleficent? She's right there!!

From the looks of the trailer, it may be Uliana did something that made Bridget hate Cinderella. So they couldn't have Maleficent be manipulative and do that then? Why come up with a whole original character related to one of the most other notorious Disney villains (who is Black in the Descendants universe, by the way, Whoopi Goldberg) for just that? Hm?

No, Disney said "let's make trick the fans, make them think that Dara will be playing a sweet, innocent princess and then reveal she'll be playing this bully who we made up".

See, they couldn't use Morgana from the second Little Mermaid movie because one, there's her name. We have Morgie in the movie and his mother's name is Morgana. Two, when the first Descendants movie came out, Disney made it a point to make it seem that the first films of the animated films were canon. Meaning that, yeah, sequels were ignored.

In the case of Chloe and Chad!

As I mentioned before, it comes off that the AKs and VKs are being brushed aside. And yes, it's a problem.

The problem isn't having a new generation. I personally am not upset seeing these new characters, let alone new actors. I hate how they (not the actors, not them) went about this.

They could have easily announced Malia Baker playing Chloe from the start. But no, they didn't do that. On top of that, no mention of Chad??

Disney didn't have Chloe mention Chad because they want to play off him being an OG AK and white and have the fandom feel some kind of way towards Chloe who is of color. They want people to be antagonistic towards and annoyed at Chloe. See, they let this Black girl be a princess... but they'll probably have her be annoying in the movie, some perfectionist, oh and no mention of her supposed brother.

When you think about it... while Uilanna is the Uma here, Chloe is the Audrey.

Hm, a girly princess who wears blue, who is the daughter of a beloved Disney princess whose race was changed for the Descendants, played by an actress who looks racially ambiguous but happens to be Black, who has some connection to Chad (or lack of), who also comes off as some perfectionist, an often annoying character trait.

Now, don't that seem like Chloe is the Audrey here? Just this time, our princess is nicer.

Like with Uma, Audrey was meant to be disliked, but come the third movie fans grew to like and sympathize her.

This time around with Chloe, it's like Disney is trying to be sneakier about getting the fans to hate her.

Again, it's the "they can have this but they can't have this" with their Black and other characters of color.

"It's not about race." Disney made it about race. If it wasn't, they wouldn't have done previous antics with the other characters. If wasn't, Disney would have easily kept Cinderella and her family white from the animated films, if they still wanted fans to dislike her, just as they could have with Aurora and her family, but they didn't. They made fans believe Dara was going to play a princess and just knew fans would be like "Brandy could be Cinderella" because of that, and once they had Brandy be Cinderella? Well, you see what happened.

Simply, just my opinion, Disney has the intentions to make Chloe hated or at least less popular. They're just not trying make it not racist, but still still are racist about.

Now, I'm not saying the movie is going to be oh so terrible. The thing is, a fourth movie could have been a more excitable thing for fans if Disney stopped doing most of these characters dirty with their racism and favoritism.

[stariekis]

EP 6 . the meeting (2) — note ¹ : the second part is finally here ~ and ou this is getting serious 🫷🏻our y/nwon are making MOVES ? we surely know that they are down bad for each other your honor ☝🏻 n e waysss my loves enjoy the episode <3 reblogs and feedback is welcomed ):

Jungwon returned to the backyard where the other boys where. Jay, Sunoo and Sunghoon were sitting on the porch while Jake, Riki and Heeseung where just messing around.

— 'Who was it buddy ?' Jay asked, jungwon's heart was still beating pretty fast as he sat on one of the chairs. — 'One of your sister's friend, they are now in her room' Jay nodded his head and looked at his phone again.

— 'Well Jungwon tell us' Jake approached the place where the other one where, Riki and Heeseung following after him. Jungwon looked at them confused — 'About the girl'

It is the right time to tell the boys that the girl from his university ? He wanted to but if he did they boys would probably tease him for the rest of the day.

— 'What about her ? It's just a girl i saw at uni nothing more' He answered playing with the ring on his finger while looking at his friends.

— 'Why are you so nervous then ?' Riki asked looking at Jungwon's hand playing nervously with the silver hoop. He stopped right after.

— 'You guys will never leave me alone won't you' All his friends smiled at him, the answer was obviously a no.

While the boys where talking in the backyard, the girls where having their own conversation in Yunah's room.

— 'This is the perfect opportunity y/n please let us help' Minji said while you were laying on the bed with your head hidden under the pillows. — 'You guys knew it and didn't tell me that's so mean'.

— 'But now we all know so we can help' Hanni said — 'Yunah ask your brother if we can hang out with them please' she added. You got up as quickly as possible looking at your friends with open eyes and tense jaw, Yunah on the other hand has a smirk plastered on her face.

She then started running downstairs, you and your friends running after her.

She opened the door that leads to the back yard, her brother and his friends looked at her with a shocked expression. — 'Slow down big girl, what do you want' Jay asked — 'Can we stay here for a bit with you guys?' Jay looked weirdly at his sister, she never asked him something like that before. But he didn't actually mind at all so he looked at his friends searching for their approval, all of them nodded their heads at the idea.

Jungwon and you, on the other hand, were a complete nervous wreck. Your eyes met and you smiled at him, the same way you always do whenever you are around him, trying to look relax and calm. Even though you weren't at all.

You and your friends stepped out of the house. All of them took all the empty seats, leaving the only one right next to Jungwon on purpose, they had a smirk plastered on their faces. You stood there, not completely sure if you wanted to sit there or run away once again — 'You can sit there, he doesn't bite i swear' one of Jay's friends, a tall and blonde boy, said. You giggled a bit at his comment.

You approach him and sat right next to him. The chair was pretty small, your and his knees were brushing against each other from time to time. You swear to good that you could pass out at that exact moment.

As everyone started talking with each other you and Jungwon just sat there, waiting for the other to start a conversation or not.

— 'The sky looks pretty today don't your think ?' You heard him asking, turning your head towards him and, when you saw his side profile looking at the sky, you looked up right away.

— 'It is really pretty yeah' Looking at the different colors of the sunset your smiled. What you didn't notice was that Jungwon stopped looking at the sky some time ago, his eyes were all over you now with a smile on his face.

After that the rest of the day continued perfectly. Jungwon and you talked a bit more and it wasn't awkward at all, finding out how similar you two actually were and how much you both have in common.

But, even though minutes ago you where wishing for the day to end, when you had to go back home you felt actually sad about it.

Hanni and Minji already left leaving you, Minju and Moka with the boys. — 'It was nice meeting you guys, you are actually fun to be around' Moka said with a sweet smile on her lips as she took Minju's hand in hers. — 'We should do this more often' she added.

— 'I don't know if i want to hang out with my brother more so we'll talk about that' Yunah stood right by their side. You got up from your seat, Jungwon had his eyes on you all the time and, when you made eye contact with him for the last time, he smiled and waved his hand. You returned the smile and followed your friends that were already going to the front door of the house.

Jungwon let out the biggest sigh ever. — 'Why were you so tense Wonie ?' Riki pointed out. Because he always gets this nervous everytime you were around.

— 'He is scared of women just like you Riki' Sunoo answered, and a whole new conversation started because of that. Jungwon thanked Sunoo on his mind for changing the topic.

He couldn't stop thinking about you for the rest of the day, he went to bed with your sweet smile plastered on his mind. And you were in a similar situation, the softness of his voice and the way your hands brushed against each other from time to time had your mind spinning.

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[sullustangin]

Inspired by that Edna Mode post you reblogged, I'm curious in the early days of Eva's creation of her Voidhound persona did the standard Voidhound costume have to go through any adjustments because some part of the costume was impractical or unsafe? And were there any suggestions on things to add to the costume "because that's what the pirates in holofilms wore" that were shot down without even trying them out it was clear it was a bad idea?

Oh, golly! You've tapped the lore vein. I'm so sorry in advance. I also apologize for being SLOW on this because I had to remember/write down some of the headcanon explanations (because I sometimes forget that the Voidy costume isn't canon.....).

~~

I wrote about the appearance and the influences here in our universe, basically making the Voidhound costume an ode to the Shadow and other pulp mystery-solving heroes. There isn't a perfect Voidhound armor in game right now, but Columni Restored Smuggler/Targeter (pub side) is the current one in use for cut scenes. As for how Eva remembers it:

~~

The process of creating the costume was actually pretty fun. It came hand-in-hand with winning Nok Drayen's treasure.

Eva was a just-turned-20 moron, but she was streetwise enough to understand that everyone was going to want to be with her...or bump her off. She was already smart enough not to sign anything as 'Eva Corolastor.' EC sufficed at the gaming tables. But how did she keep her head now that she'd inherited the rep of best smuggler in the galaxy? Risha, as ever, was three steps ahead of her. "You can't walk around looking like that and demand a higher paycheck." She tossed Eva a fashion magazine. "You need an upgrade in general, but look at the expensive stuff first."

The costume came about as a collaboration between Eva and Risha. There was a spandex version, with a mask. "Not enough armor, not enough deflection capacity." "No matter how shiny it is." There was a Mando version, because it had a helmet, but that was veto'ed by Corso. "Letting people know you're a girl will make men like me think twice."

"Assume the lowest common denominator of the galaxy is Corso."

"Hey now!"

"You said it. Sorta."

Bowdaar stuck his head into the hallway from the galley.. "If I see a bounty hunter approaching me, I rip off arms first, ask questions later."

Eva pointed in his direction. "That's a better argument."

The form of the costume finally arrived while Eva and Risha were watching an old holofilm. The plot twist was surprise/secret twins, a comedy of errors for one hundred minutes.

"Wanna be my twin sister?" Eva asked Risha. "The costume. That bossy bad bitch thing we're making."

"...that would lend us some flexibility as to who actually does the negotiating. If one gets caught, the other shows up in the costume, reasonable doubt -- gotta let us go." Risha sucked the melty ice cream off her spoon as she rolled the idea around in her head. "She's going to have to make a hell of an impression if the same audience sees her twice, played by two people."

"Acting lessons for each other might help." Eva gestured at the holo screen. "Not like plotline acting, but compromising with each other and how we normally act to create that character that gets the big paycheck."

"The costume is also going to have to cover a lot of recognizable features, least of all what a pale freak you are," Risha quipped, holding out her arm next to Eva's.

"You might plan on peeling yourself back to 20 when you're 90, but I assume I'll live and die in the same skin. Plus I'm still on iodine for the cosmic radiation." Eva got to her feet. "Stand up."

Immediately: "Lifts," they said in unison; Eva was short.

"Padding."

"Binding or compressing."

"Can we leave that to the costume to make the illusion? We need to move in this thing."

"And let's not forget looking good."

~~

The button-down shirt. The vests. The neck scarf, to add a pop of color. The black blastweave greatcoat and trousers. The boots.

They had a fight over the rebreather mask (Eva no, Risha yes), but that was settled when Bowdaar pointedly hooked a claw into the mask and ripped it off -- and took half of Risha's foundation with it; the humidity in there had steamed the makeup off. No masks. Thick cake of makeup instead, in a foundation shade halfway between them, with complimenting colors for both.

There was another fight about the hat. "I hate hats," Eva said, eyeballing the atrocity Risha had on her head. "One more thing to get ripped up or ripped off. Helmet, if anything."

"I couldn't think of a more inelegant piece of gear," Risha sneered. "The hat can cast a shadow, obscuring the face in holos and in person without any risk to the makeup. It can be made of blastweave. Also." Risha drew out a long, thin hatpin. "You'll have at least five to ten of these in your hair at any time. Think of them as additional weapons."

To make her point. she stabbed Corso's sandwich on the table.

"Now, now, ain't nothing a that a toothpick couldn't handle," he drawled as he plucked it back out of his food. Corso had gotten used to the constant argument over Miss Dark and Broody and Paid Better.

~~

Then Akaavi Spar, Mandalorian of Clan Spar, came on staff and things really got fun.

She was surprisingly impressed by the costume. "Thought you'd hate it for the duplicitous nature," Eva barbed as she spun around in the greatcoat, as Risha finished removing her hat.

"I think it is a tool of cowards, but your people have a preference for live dogs as opposed to dead lions. For its function, it serves purpose," Akaavi stated, leaning back against the bulkhead in the lounge. "It also presents some interesting tactics, if you don't manage to kill yourself first."

"I like the sound of that," said Eva, as Risha said, at the same time, "That's her job. I'm just supposed to look the part."

First: after a mishap with a jetpack and, on a separate occasion, rocket boots, Akaavi applied a vigorous coating of flame retardant to all of the costumes.

Then came the delicate, almost gossamer-thin comm line that Akaavi threaded through each and every hat with such skill. No earpieces needed; Eva could be fed lines by Risha and vice versa. "Don't act surprised. Mandalorians are self-sufficient," Akaavi calmly said when Eva caught her one morning, early, sitting in the lounge and doing the dainty work.

That made the knitting thing much less of a shock later.

Customized smoke pellets and flash-bang grenades. Selectively activated hidden pockets. The final version of Eva's holdout knife set-up. The hand-held zipline launcher. Those were all Akaavi's contributions as well.

~~

Then came Corellia.

"The press is calling you the Voidhound," Akaavi reported as she flipped through pages on the Holonet.

"What a stupid, unoriginal name," huffed Risha. She eventually found the hat annoying, while Eva found that it grew on her.

"Hound caught the wolf. And the press gave it to me, so that's one thing I don't have to give to them. Anything we called this thing would be a tell on ourselves," Eva rationalized as she lined up a bunch of shots on the bar. "We were going to have to name this suit sooner or later."

"It's taken on a life of its own," agreed Akaavi. "It is not you. Yet it is."

"I'd like to keep it as a business partner only."

~~~

As a sort of postscript, the deployable hanglider got one test flight on Ziost before Eva disappeared.

[olivia200312]

Chapter 2: Staying || Bound By Destiny (Ardyn Izunia x Reader)

Summary:

You may have read stories of girls (and boys) being teleported into gaming worlds such as Final Fantasy XV, but have you ever imagined that one of them gets teleported into our world? Y/N is a 25-year-old young woman who just escaped from an abusive relationship. One night, an unexpected thing happened while Y/N was about to sleep. A canon character got transported into her world. Chancellor Ardyn Izunia is known as a tragic man with a devastating past. The Gods from his world decided to punish him by cursing him that he'd never find love and sending him into a new world called Earth.

What would happen when Ardyn meets Y/N? Will he love her?

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

Ardyn was awake and he grinned at her, causing Y/N to blush. Just why? Why did she have to have a crush on Ardyn, who is a fictional character? Yet, he was here. She stuttered, trying to say words while placing the fedora hat away on the chair and where Ardyn's trench coat was. 

"I-I'm sorry! I didn't expect you to wake up fast!" Y/N stuttered 

Ardyn showed a sly smile and sat up. "I was just teasing you, my dear." He then looked around, and his sly teasing dropped to a frown. He looked even more concerned. "Where am I?"

"You are at my apartment," Y/N answered Ardyn's question. "I was minding my business when I found something glowing and that's when you appeared."

Ardyn was a bit impressed but he felt also... thankful. This young woman saved his life. If no one stepped in to save him, he would have lived on the streets, on this unknown planet. Wait, this is planet Earth like Shiva said? Is this his punishment? Being stuck on this planet with possibly no way home? How can he work then as the chancellor? Not to mention, he was someone shrouded with mystery. Y/N tilted her head a bit to the side and Ardyn looked at her. 

"Is this planet Earth?"

Y/N nodded. She was surprised. How did Ardyn know that this is Earth? This is not Eos, that's for sure. "Can I ask what happened?"

Ardyn decided that it was best to explain so he did. Y/N listened to every detail. She never heard anything like that before. Sure, some people wrote about a canon character being teleported to Earth, someone being teleported into the franchise world, or a franchise being collaborated with another franchise. She wondered if the government held a deep secret, a special connection with the outside world somewhere in the universe. Was Eos connected to Earth? 

Once Ardyn finished explaining, he didn't stop looking at Y/N. He just noticed something. She was a beauty. And also, she looked a little bit similar to his deceased lover, Aera. Y/N may not have the same blond hair color or blue eyes, but she had some similarities. Y/N was clueless about it but she went on: "Wow... That must suck." She then became suspicious and crossed her arms. "You aren't here to make here forever dark, are you?"

Ardyn couldn't help but chuckle. How foolish she was. He did want to bring darkness in Eos after being betrayed by the Astrals and younger brother, Somnus. No one helped him. Even perhaps Aera knew what was going to happen to him. Why didn't she warn him about it? Or tell him? Ardyn held even anger towards his once beloved. But he missed her dearly. What if... Y/N was a reincarnation version of Aera? Impossible. "No. I failed to bring darkness for my revenge. His Majesty defeated me in a battle."

Y/N couldn't help but feel sorry for him. "It's because of the betrayal, right?"

Ardyn looked at Y/N with his dark eyes, causing her to shudder. She should've been more careful. "How do you know that, my dear?"

Y/N wanted to come up with something, to make Ardyn feel that he wasn't bad. But Ardyn detests lairs and he can detect it easily when someone is lying. She sighed softly and decided to tell the truth. "You are a... a..."

"A what, my dear?"

"Fictional character," Y/N responded nervously.

Ardyn was taken aback. How was this possible? Was he a fictional character on this planet? How? He saw Y/N looking nervously at him. He remembered so many victims... The ones he made nervous and killed them. But he could've killed Y/N right now and there. Or some minutes ago but she... saved his life. She was also a beauty and she reminds him of Aera. She was also like a new creature that he had met on Earth. But she was a human like him. He also wanted to see if magic existed on this planet. He has Starscourge after saving many infected ones when he was not immortal at the time. He was only 33 years old and stuck forever in this body. 

"I-I'm sorry to disappoint you, sir. I know that it's a lot to take in."

Ardyn chuckled and even heck, he even laughed a bit! "We are not in public, my dear. This is not Eos now, isn't it? Just call me Ardyn."

Y/N smiled a bit. "Very well then, ... Ardyn." She then stood up and went to her closet. She opened it and searched for a baggy shirt that would fit Ardyn. He couldn't help but watch her. Just as he was about to ask what she was doing, Y/N let out an "Aha!" and showed Ardyn a baggy black shirt. "You can stay here if you want. I don't want you to sleep on the streets."

"That is very kind of you, my dear," Ardyn said with a genuine thankful smile as Y/N gave him the black baggy shirt. "Where may I change?"

"Follow me." Y/N led the way as Ardyn followed her. The bathroom was not far. Y/N turned the light on as she entered her bathroom. There was a bathtub with curtains and a toilet. Oh, the bathtub also looked nice and big enough for your legs to be in the water too. Just imagine a hot relaxing water in the bathtub...

"You can change in here."

Ardyn entered while Y/N closed the door to give Ardyn privacy. She went to the kitchen to make something for Ardyn. What was his favorite food to eat? She decided to make him some (choice). She knew that Ardyn lived for many years to taste all kinds of foods. So, what was his favorite? Ardyn came out through the door and heard noises in the kitchen. He wore now a baggy shirt and he took out his shoes as well. He saw a small corridor/hallway that led towards the front door to the outside and there were Y/N shoes so he placed them down next to hers. He went to the kitchen and there he saw Y/N making food. 

"Ah, you're done. I made some food for you," Y/N said as she turned around with a plate of food on it. "Have a seat."

Ardyn did as told and he sat down. This world is indeed a bit strange for him. He was treated all the time as someone important since he was a chancellor, the one of Niflheim. Y/N set the plate down in front of him and sat down across from him. He began eating while the girl watched him. "How does it taste?"

"Splendid!"

After eating, Y/N led him to the living room. "Now about the sleep. When looking at you and since you are a chancellor, you sleep in beds?"

Ardyn smirked with a chuckle. "My dear, I am immortal, I don't need sleep. But yes, I sleep in beds."

Y/N nodded. "How about I take the couch and you sleep in my bed?"

"Now, my dear, it's not wise for a gentleman to let a woman sleep on the couch," Ardyn said with a frown. "How about we share the bed?"

Y/N stiffed. She blushed. Never had she shared a bed with a man before. But Ardyn is her damn crush and yet he was here! Ardyn grinned once he noticed her blush. Y/N grumbled a "Fine" before walking to her bedroom, Ardyn following close behind. What he was saying is the truth. It's not wise for a gentleman to let a woman sleep on the couch. Y/N was already in her short pajamas and laid down in bed. Ardyn laid down next to her and closed his eyes. Like he said, he didn't need sleep since he was immortal. Y/N moved to sleep on her stomach and slowly closed her eyes. Sleep took her in rather quickly. 

[parkjayssi]

[Edited]

Hello! How are you? I hope you're fine. I wanted to participate in the fictional character game. I don't know if you know Doctor Octopus/Otto Octavius from the Spider-Man movies (played by Alfred Molina) but I wanted to ask for him.

How our relation would be in another life/dimention/universe? How he treats me? Is he a good man or a walking red flag (a toxic man)? How passionate he is? Does he care about me?

My initials are S.B.E. and my favorite color is aquagreen. The reading type I want is Tarot.

(PS: I hope I'm doing this well and I'm not breaking any rules...)

(PS2: if you want a bit of help on knowing the character's personality I can give you this page/article: https://funkymbti.com/2021/02/23/spider-man-otto-octavius-doc-ock-infj/)

Here's your reading for you, I will use my intuition:

I've chosen Draco Malfoy for your reading. I have seen a forest with vivid dark green (and with a tiny blue hue) leafs. I also saw the Slytherin snake (the green one), maybe meaning that you're from that Hogwarts house. I have seen a white/albino snake too, maybe this would be your's and Draco's pet. I have seen a girl with long brown curly hair (probably you) smiling at him and laughing, he was in that mood too. You and him where grabbing your hands each other. Yeah, I have seen you in the Slytherin uniform. You two were walking in the forest (taking a stroll). In this reality looks like you have reddish brown hair or you're redheaded, with freckles, brown or green doe eyes and pink full lips. You're a bit shorter than Draco (probably 1.60 meters), I can saw that you also use Y2K aesthetic and clothes, you're usually wearing yellow or blue clothing in this universe, mostly like a yellow striped white tank top and denim jeans. Also in this reality or lifetime you use ribbon themed hair clips (one with a white ribbon and other with a baby pink one), you also joked in this reality by putting a pink ribbon on your pet snake's head and then took a photo above her (yeah, the snake's a female). You (with Draco) have found that albino snake in the forest too, but not in the same day you guys were taking that stroll in my vision. You have met Draco one year ago, when you have changed school. He tried to mock you, but you standed up for yourself and defended your persona (and maybe you verbally attacked him a bit). He liked your determination, and then the two of you started liking yourselves. You two were starting dating like 5, 6 or 7 months ago. I have also seen that you did a vacation to another forest or other area of the U.K. (with a beach too) via driving with Draco and his friends or group. I've started hearing the song "Sabotage" by Beatie Boys (maybe it starting playing on the radio or some of the Draco's friends (or either him or you) putted it). You and Draco are starting this relation and is going fine in this universe, but maybe it can have one or two breaks and then consolidations. But I want to think than in more than one year the two of you will confess and marry/commit maybe? I have also seen that, in this reality, you have a enemy that is an Asian girl from the Gryffindor house. She's know for having black hair, white skin and strange white irises/eyes. She has a cold face and demeanor, and I have seen an image of her in my mind pointing at oneself with her wand (with a serious yet cold face), she's on a dark grey to light grey gradient background. The name of this strange Asian girl (probably from Korea or Japan) can possibly be Yuu, Sabrina, Amanda, Jazmin or Julietta/Juliet/Juliette. I thought about "Zamora" too.

thank you for joining and the reading! this was full of details so thank you for that. as for one thing that i can actually see that would happen is me owning an albino snake. i do think they are very beautiful and interesting species. also you were very close to my height! i'm actually 1.64 metres tall. i'll be doing your reading for dr. octopus according to the questions you've asked

YOUR STORY: the dynamic and your fate cards pulled : queen of cups, justice (rx), queen of swords, the lovers (rx), 10 of swords (rx) so, as for your first question. queen of cups indicate that something about this relationship is nurturing and caring. i don't necessarily pick up any romantic feelings at first, but you both try to fulfill each other emotionally and feel secure together than separated. as for your second question, i pulled justice(rx) and oh boy, this is where everything goes downhill. there is a lack of balance here despite the comfort. it's almost like a false bubble that keeps both of you from reality. with how doctor is during the whole franchise, he needs time to heal and it evidently shows in how he treats you. he's a mixed flag and it shows with the card, because he is, in fact, a good man, but very selective with whom, with the queen of swords coming into view. he can be mature, but behind all that is a man with repressed trauma, slowly taking time to heal. his trauma holds him back from being an actual nice man to you. even then he does try to hold both of you together. as for passion, we got the lovers, but, in retrograde. this man is passionate, but here again, passion isn't enough to keep a relationship going. you both have different ideals and values, not seeing eye to eye, which let the flame flicker even before it gets the chance to light up. not to mention, again, i see that he isn't ready to invest in a relationship wholeheartedly in the first place with everything that's happened to him, no matter which dimension. you both seem to be better off as friends/co-workers, if i am to be honest. as for your last question, i got 10 of swords, in retrograde. this confirms what i've been saying. he does care about you, but he's not open to the idea of committing to anybody else. it seems like he's pretty rigid with his decision. nonetheless, i also see that he does care for you, like a lotttt. even if it's in a platonic way, both of you do give yourself some sense of peace and that is more than enough he could ever ask for. ultimately, you both could be the type of friends who comfort each other through utter chaos and in the marvel universe? that is really precious than you can imagine. hope you liked your reading! please provide me feedback if you can. that helps a lot with increasing the quality of my readings

[psblooms]

santa doesn’t know you like I do

jake sim x fem reader mini series smau

previous- masterlist - next

NINE

Jake didn’t remember the moment he fell in love with yn ln, which was weird because sim jaeyun was always a boy with a good memory; He remembered seeing 7-year-old yn playing alone in the park of his new neighborhood rocking a teddy bear on a swing; while all the kids were screaming and running around, yn played with the bear as gently as you would treat a baby. Little Jake felt genuine curiosity for the girl in pigtails and ribbons that oddly matched the bow of her bear, and when he talked to her in his limited language after moving to a new country and she answered him with a voice softer than the wind of that day; little seven-year-old jake knew at that moment that he wanted to know more of her.

Yn loved the Christmas season, Jake knew that pretty early on in their friendship, she loved winter, hot drinks, and the bright colorful lights that December brought, he remembered 10-year-old yn helping him and his family put up the Christmas decorations as soon as Jake birthday passed, yn was always a curious girl so when she asked “why are there only 4 puppies?” while organizing the ornaments for the tree and Jake explained his family tradition “we have one for each member of our house” and even though she smiled and told him how much she loved that, a part of him felt a yearning feeling in her voice.

He remembered yn at 15 crying in her new bed because the moving truck lost her teddy bear, where the only comfort her parents gave were the cold words telling her to “stop making a big deal out of this, teenagers don’t have teddy bears” he remembered hugging her so hard in hopes of helping her hurt less and he remembered the face of yn at 16 when Jake gifted her a teddy bear with a pink bow in her birthday with a note that said, “we can’t replace bear but you can have someone that helps you remember him”.

he remembered yn at 17 counting days for the college entrance exam, studying and sending applications to the farthest universities possible, he remembered her excitement when her acceptance emails arrived (which was even bigger than the joy she expressed when her high school crush asked her on a date) and he remembered her even bigger smile when they decided to go to the same college.

he remembered yn at 18 packing all her life in a suitcase before going away from her hometown, how even if she wasn´t smiling, her eyes had these hopeful sheen, relieved for finally leaving, and how the whole car ride was her waiting for the fresh air of a city without surreal expectations on her.

he remembered yn at 19 asking him to be roommates during summer break because she hated sharing showers in the dorm building, he had never agreed to something faster, just like 7-year-old jake, 19-year-old jake still wanted to spend more time with yn.

he remembers yn at 20 running to his room to tell him she got her first internship at a clinic, he remembers 20-year-old yn waking up at 3 am to make him a cup of coffee and pat his back while he was working on a project, getting sweets for them after her work, he remembers getting texts asking for him to get stuff for the grocery store on his way home, he remembers yn face when he forced her to try a new recipe for a dish he saw online, he remembers loving the routine that he fell in while living with yn.

He saw her relationships come and go, he started dating too, and he liked the girls he dated at the time, and he liked seeing yn coming home happy after a date; but at the end of each relationship and each heartbreak either his or hers, jake always wondered what would it feel to be loved by yn. he tried not to think of the what ifs as often, maybe once every full moon, but he could never bring a conclusion to his own secret dilemma: he found someone who knew him inside out, who was next to him in all his ups and downs without expecting anything back and he was pretty sure he knew yn in the same way, there were times where they wondered if they shared the same mind; but that only made jaeyun more hesitant over his romantic feelings because if he confessed them and it did not work out, he would be throwing away a friendship that gave him the best moments of his life.

he loved her, he always knew it, and as they grew up, that love he felt grew and transformed with him. he didn´t know what made him realize it: it could be the sleepless nights they share now in college or the gifts she makes for his birthday, it could be her hugs and how warm she felt, it could be how well she knew him or how they've shared pretty much half of their life together. but he was never brave enough to face the consequences of that fact.

he didn´t know what he was going to tell her the moment she walked through the door: he didn´t know if he was going to keep up with the lie or not, he didn´t know if it was a small argument or if it was going to affect their current relationship; he just knew he was going to say he was sorry, he was sorry for his attitude, and he was sorry for not being able to explain why it happened. he just knew he hoped she would forgive him and he hoped she wouldn´t leave the house angry anymore; he knew if that happened he would spend another sleepless night and he just hoped in this one his heart will finally calm down.

Jake couldn’t remember the moment he fell in love with yn ln, he always just knew that her presence was one of the most important things in his life, and he would go ages without telling her how he really felt only to keep seeing her smile for the rest of time.

taglist: OPEN (@ghostiiess, @02zluvbot, @greenmilkyee, @addictedtohobi)

[vertigoblockbuster]

Info Dump: Ardra Nakshatra

In vedic astrology, Rudra is the ruling deity of Ardra nakshatra, the 6th lunar mansion in the Hindu zodiacal system. Rudra is a form of Lord Shiva the Destroyer. Within Hinduism Shiva is one of three principle deities, the other two being Lord Vishnu and Lord Brahma. In extremely simple terms, Brahma is the creator of the universe, Vishnu is the preserver of it, and Shiva destroys it to recreate a new universe.

Rudra is very different from the other gods. Rather than desiring nice clothing and adornments, Rudra prefers to wear animal skin and tree bark. A graveyard is his preferred dwelling place over a peaceful home. He doesn't wash or cut his hair and searches for a deeper meaning that he values above all earthly comforts. One who has Rudra nakshatras (Ardra, Mula, and the two Bhadrapadas) prevalent in their birth chart has the power to unleash their anger onto untrue, impure things. Lies, harmful people, and corrupt institutions are the types of animals Rudra hunts. Evil is washed away by his storms and a clean slate is made available for good things to manifest.

Shiva is eternal and therefore is not literally "born," instead he is an embodiment of an energy that existed in Brahma first. The story of Rudra's "birth" from Brahma goes like this: Brahma worked hard to create beings to help him in forming the universe. When they disobeyed him because they did not want to mingle with lower earthly things, Brahma understood their reasoning but was simultaneously furious at their disobedience. His rage built up between his eyes (think of how we scrunch our faces when we become angry) and when he pulled it out of his head it took the form of a howling baby that was purple and androgynous, Rudra.

To help Brahma in his creation of the universe, Rudra was instructed to separate his male and female forms and make eleven copies of himself so that they could reproduce together. These beings formed from Brahma's fury were full of anger and threatened to destroy the world that he was attempting to create. Brahma instructed Rudra to control his anger by meditating. Rudra threw himself into yoga to conquer his mind and become peaceful. Brahma was pleased with the work that Rudra had done on himself and renamed him Shiva. Literally translated, Rudra means the "howler" or the "most frightening one" while Shiva means "calm" or "benevolent." Rudra's self-mastery through yoga is why he is revered as one of the original masters of the practice, another being Brahma. Rudra is perhaps a more notable yogic master because of the inner rage he had to conquer within himself. His path to self-control was more challenging because he is the embodiment of Brahma's anger.

When used unhealthily, this destructive force is inflicted on innocent people and things around the native with Rudra influencing their chart. It can also be turned inward by the native onto themselves. Here we can see the archetype of the tortured bad boy or the tragic bad girl. No superficiality is tolerated (at least not comfortably) at this point in the zodiac and must be destroyed, including one's own character.

Some of the symbology associated with Ardra includes the color green (Ardra translating to mean moist one or fresh one), a jewel, a human head and a teardrop. The color green reminds us of the rich landscape of a forest after a storm. After a violent downpour the plant life is hydrated, nourished, and rejuvenated. Here is a reminder that storms, while frightening experiences best avoided from a superficial standpoint, are not only beautiful on a deeper level but necessary for growth. This same principle can easily be extended to human beings and is the major lesson we learn from Ardra nakshatra: Anger is not bad. We need anger. The challenge is directing it properly.

The symbol of the jewel evokes ideas of the formation of diamonds. It is commonly known that tremendous heat and pressure are required to form diamonds, and that they are held around the world to be extremely valuable. Again, we are brought back to the idea of using our turbulent, angry emotions (think of the heat and pressure required for a diamond to form) as tools to create a life that we truly value (the diamond itself).

The human head and teardrop are associated with Ardra because it is a nakshatra of intellect, deep reflection, and also of anguish and suffering. Crying has been said to be a remedy for those with prominent Ardra placements in their chart because it releases pent up emotions. After crying we are left with a clean emotional slate and there is now space to recreate ourselves.

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

I credit Vic Dicara for the information on the story of Rudra/Shiva. Please check out his YouTube channel Vic Dicara's Astrology if you are interested in learning about vedic astrology.

[heidengamedev]

Welcome to my gamedev blog!

My name's Heiden and I'm a solo developer with a passion for quirky emotional narrative games!

Work In Progress:

Who's That Mokemon?! (Working Title)

Being made for Yaoijam 2024. A comedy RPG where two boys go on an adventure to break the sleeping curse on their village! Will feature 64 creatures to wrangle, train and evolve. Form your very own mokemon party, kiss your rival and discover the secrets of the island!

There's no way I'm going to be able to finish during the two month jam, but will be diligently working on it during the jam!

Finished Games (in reverse chronological order):

Hug Embassy (2024)

Hug Embassy is looking for a new intern! Could that be you? A short 10k VN with hugging mini-games that can be played in-browser in a single sitting.

Available for Windows and Browser. Free.

Half Haunt Halloween (2023)

Move back home to your supernatural family and earn enough money to prevent the electrical company from shutting off your power! A 30k tragicomedy money raiser about making do with what you've got when the whole system is rigged against you. Also your little brother is a weeb. Nya~!

Available for Windows and Mac. Commercial Release.

A Heart of Butterblue (2023)

City girl Phebe has just inherited a farm. Her father was also just murdered and her grandfather is mysteriously missing. But she's mostly focused on adapting to her new routine.

A 30k horror western VN/farm sim with fully playable farming mechanics (plant, water, harvest, sell, plant), a foraging system, active clock and three characters to get close to and attempt to befriend.

Available for Windows, Mac, Linux, and Steam. Free.

Tomorrow for Mar (2022)

Cast spells on a large cast of quirky characters as Mar attempts to pass their university final while battling the world's most obvious crush. Awkward.

A 2.5D VN with puzzles.

Available for Windows, Mac, Linux, and Steam. Commercial Release.

Also available in French and Italian.

Ziva and the Wolves (2021)

Ziva is dying and there is no cure. Two knights both want the same legendary sword for opposing reasons. The three of them travel deep into the depths of the Goddess' temple to determine the fate of their lives.

A 5k VN with puzzles that take the form of SRPG battles.

Available for Windows and Mac. Free.

Heart is Muscle (2021)

Flex your way to become mayor! The town of Swoleville elects their mayor by way of a flexing contest, and poor Boro has just lost to his archrival. He's got 24 hours to contest the results but also-- the world might be ending?!

A comedy RPG/VN about getting stronger, helping people and saving the world!

Available for Windows, Mac, Linux and Steam. Commercial.

A New Don (2021)

Fia is set to inherit the title of Donna in one week, but has to survive the rest of the family's murder attempts first to get there! Features a nameable giant pet hog.

A 24k mafia-themed otome thriller with two LIs each with their own ending and a slew of bad ends.

Available for Windows, Mac, Linux and Browser. Free.

Also available in Spanish.

Kill the Prince?! (2020)

A prince is being married against his will. An assassin(?) is hired to take care of the issue. Wait, what? This game is gay?

A 5k comedy VN with espionage mechanics and four weird outfits to dress our assassin up in.

Available for Windows, Mac, Linux and Browser. Free.

Also available in Portuguese and French.

The Girl With The Gray Hair Awakens (2019)

A girl wakes up in a room with no memory and no color. Die, continue, die, continue again, and you might break the cycle.

Made in 72 hours as a 'flash gamedev challenge'.

Available for Windows, Mac, Linux and Browser. Free.

The Bog's Heart (2018)

Travel deep into the heart of the bog to find a cure for Meg's mom! But also your dog starts talking? That can't be normal.

A short (~5k) VN with puzzles made for Acejam 2018.

Dr. Frank's Build-A-Boyfriend (2017)

Dr. Frank's ex-boyfriend just stole his research and he's out for REVENGE. Build yourself the hottest bestest boy ever to SHOW UP his STINKY EX!!!!!

A 18k black comedy with point and click elements and a crafting system as well as a customizable custom made boyfriend!

Available for Windows, Mac, Linux, Steam, Nintendo Switch, Playstation Store, Microsoft Store.

Itch.io and Steam version Free. Console Port with New Epilogue Commercial.

Elvine (2013)

Elvine flees a horrible attack on her village to the ruins of an old castle. There she awaits news of the outside world while the ghosts of the past creep up on her...

A 32k somber otome game with two LIs and four endings. The first game I ever made!!! Look at how far I've come, omg.

Available or Windows, Mac and Linux.

[jsehungergamesau]

Jameson Jackson, winner of the 26th Hunger Games

[Please check the pinned post on our blog for trigger warnings. This can be read as a stand-alone fic set in the same universe. Sorry in advance :) -Mod Oakley]

°○°○°○°

"Jameson Jackson!" Read the colorful woman from the Capitol.

The young man couldn't hold the gasp in the back of his throat at the sound of his name being called. All heads turned towards him and he looked around with bewildered eyes, but he took a deep breath and stepped out of the holding area for the 17 year olds. A pair of peacekeepers guided him to the stage but Jameson kept his head high and he.. smiled. Not only that but he hummed a familiar jaunty work tune as he neared the stage. He knew he couldn't let them all see his true emotions. No, Jameson was the one who always lifted the spirits through the hard work days, he couldn't let them see how terrified he truly was.

He might have been smiling, yet try as he might, his eyes betrayed him when he scanned the crowd. They were damp with unshed tears that caught the light of the warm summer's day sun. He looked from the crowd up to the treetops, one more time before being led away to the city hall clock tower.

Saying goodbye to his aunt Marry was filled with hugs and tears. Promises to take care of herself and to do what she needs to to survive. The older woman gave her nephew an iron locket with a small picture of his parents inside. A token to remember home while in the games. Jameson held it close to his heart and hugged her for as long as their time allowed, singing a quiet soothing song to Marry before being separated. 

A few friends from the paper processing mill came and Jameson couldn't help but laugh, "Be sure to have a song written for me, would ya, lads?" He joked, playfully hitting one of their arms. Only a few of them smiled. "Buck up now, I've taught you all enough! You can lead the tune without me. Even if Jerry does sing like a broken water pipe." That got them laughing.

This is how he wanted to be remembered. Positive and joyful even in the face of the worst possible thing to ever happen to a young person in this country. He smiled goodbye until the doors closed.

Finally his best friend came to see him, and he let his mask slip. Maria was a slight girl with tanned skin and long frizzy blonde hair she kept up in a bun, and she hugged him tight enough to bruise. Maria was born without a voice in her lungs, so the two taught each other to sign from an old book when they were little. She loved when Jameson would sing and when they would dance together at the harvest close festivals.

Jameson had nicknamed her Maple from her love of the sweet syrup from the trees. They've only had the chance to taste it a few times because peacekeepers would punish them if they got caught dipping their fingers into the collection buckets. But it was Maria's absolute favorite. So the nickname stuck.

Neither of them ever saw each other romantically. They had shared a kiss once but almost immediately decided it didn't feel right. Yet they still remained thick as thieves. In his private thoughts, Jameson wouldn't have minded if they shared a home together. Perhaps not as husband and wife, but it would be theirs and they would be happy. Especially compared to the alternative that was his imminent fate now. 

They stand with their foreheads pressed together in the quiet and Jameson quietly humming from his chest. There wasn't much to say, really. They said their goodbyes this morning when they split into their standing areas. So the two of them try to savor the other's company for all that it's worth.

She kissed his cheek, “Goodbye, Jamie.” She signed, and any idea or dream of a happy future with Maria was extinguished as soon as the heavy doors closed behind her.

°○°○°○°

Everything became a blur after that.

The train ride, speaking with his mentor and fellow tribute from 7, pulling up to the Capitol, the ridiculous outfits, the chariot ride. The whole time he smiled and waved and laughed- he felt unmoored. Floating in his own mind as he watched himself perform the jolly tribute from District 7 act for the entire country to see. 

Jameson came back to himself while in the training center. A pair of identical faces had joined him at the camouflage station without him noticing, and upon realizing he wasn't actually going crosseyed he jumped.

Oh right, the twins from District 8. The brother, Tim, had volunteered as tribute to be with his sister, Tamery, who was reaped from the bowl. Neither of them could stand being separated, so they walked into the games together. Jameson wondered if either would walk out, and if one did, which?

"See, if you add a bit more of the raspberry juice you get a darker mixture." Tamery explained as she took the bowl Jameson was idly swirling around, smashing a few of the red berries into it and mixing it around with a stick. Dipping her fingers in, she painted a swatch on her arm to demonstrate, "See? It's almost black now. If you added some charcoal it would be easier but not everyone can make a fire."

Tamery then began mixing several things together as Tim leaned back on his hands, watching Jameson with a faint grin. When she was done, Tamery had made a color that when swatched on her own skin, basically disappeared. It matched her skintone perfectly. 

"That's incredible! How did you learn to do that?" Jameson was impressed, looking from her arm back to their pale faces and ashy blonde hair. They must not have gotten a lot of sun working in the factories. Jameson could relate since his own complexion outed him for working in the paper press mills back home.

"We worked with the dyes back in 8." Tamery explained with a small shrug.

"We have to figure out how to make everything the exact shades of colors the customers want." Tim picked up from his sister, "Sure there's standard recipes for each color, but most of the time we have better results by eyeballing how much of each dye to use." He grinned, using some moss to paint a deep purple texture onto his arm that made it look bruised. 

"Fascinating!" Jameson exclaimed, truly intrigued by the pair, "In the paper mill, we usually just make white, so we just bleach the tree pulp. But occasionally we use these powders to make colored stationary. It took weeks for the gaudy orange to wash off my skin."

The twins barked similar laughs to each other. 

"Oh tell me about it! When we were dying a batch of red silk, it looked like we had bloody hands for ages!" Tim snorted. Nobody comments about how it might become a reality soon.

"Though seeing the Capitol folk walking around with dyed skin makes me think that they were inspired by us." Tamery rolls her eyes with a smirk. "It took the preps almost two hours to finally scrub us clean. I think they had to take some skin with 'em as a souvenir to make it work. To add insult to injury, one of them was dyed robin's egg blue."

Tim scoffs with a roll of his eyes as well and they all go back to painting, listening to the instructor on how to use stones and bark and other unconventional materials to hide themselves from plain sight. Jameson was okay at it, but when the new trio moved to the traps and snares station, Jameson picked up the skill quickly. 

After learning the basics, the gears in Jameson's mind turned and he fashioned a tripwire that would drop a massive weight onto a test dummy. The weight crushed it's plastic skull and for a quick moment Jameson felt pleased with himself. Then he remembered he had an audience and scanned the room, several tributes had watched him and he could feel his cheeks burn. He was used to people watching him perform, but this was different. This was showing the others his skillset, even if it was new to him as well. Tim and Tamery clapped for him but they all quickly moved on to another station.

Jameson and the twins got on like a house on fire. They were all witty and laughed like the career pack at stupid jokes. And without saying anything, they all decided to team up in the arena. It made for better odds to be in an alliance than staking it out on your own.

It was a good thing too, because Jameson watched Tim wrestle his instructor to the ground and Tamery disarmed her knife wielding instructor in seconds. Jameson had tried to pick up a bow and a spear but they didn't feel right. He found some small throwing axes and hit the targets from a good distance away, but his mind kept going back to the hunting snares.

So while most of the other tributes took their lunch break, Jameson stayed behind a little longer to learn some more complicated traps. Whipping branches, pitfalls, small stone catapults, rope snares that left people dangling 20 feet up. He stuffed his brain with as much knowledge as he could until he was pulled away by the twins, one grabbing each of his arms and dragging him.

“C'mon, pull your own weight, James!” Tamery laughed.

Two days later while showing off their skills to the Game Makers, Jameson didnt hold back. Taking several minutes to construct an elaborate trap from rope and weights and netting. 

When he used a spear to trip the wire, a cluster of ropes with small weights on the ends got flung a few inches off the ground and tangled around the ankles of a practice dummy. And before it could fall over, two weights dangling from ropes were released- and met in the middle to crush the dummy between them.

The people observing him gave a few impressed nods before dismissing him.

He scored a 10.

°○°○°○°

Jameson resisted wiping his hands on his sleek navy blue suit as he walked up the stage to meet Lucky Flickerman, shaking the weather man- turned host's hand firmly with a brilliant smile and having a seat.

"Jameson Jackson! What a very musical name you have!" Lucky proclaimed as an icebreaker, his copper powdered hair shiny and perfectly in place. Jameson quietly admired his mustache as he chuckled at the host's words. "Very bouncy and fun to say!" Lucky then repeats Jameson's name to a jazzy tune a few times that makes the audience giggle and clap.

"Yes well I am actually quite musical myself, according to my mates back home in 7. They can hardly get me to shut up sometimes." Jameson grins cheekily, causing the audience to laugh, "Though, those guys just call me JJ for short."

"JJ! Incredible! So you do sing? Did you put on any performances growing up?" Lucky asks, leaning forward as the crushed velvet of his blue suit shifts under the lights.

"Hah, maybe one or two when I was younger at school. But mostly I sing to pass the days in the paper mills. Keeps the spirits up, yaknow? If everyone is happy while working, then you know the paper you write your love letters on is made with love." Jameson has to resist rolling his eyes. That was corny even for him.

But the people love it, it makes the audience collectively aww and put their hands to their chests at the sentiment.

"Well you can't hold out on us, then! Would you like to sing a little something-something for the people?" Lucky looks to the audience conspiratorially, "What do you think, folks?"

The citizens of the Capitol roared with cheers and encouragement. And Jameson pretended to hide his face in one hand and wave them all off with the other, but this just seems to goad them on until Jameson sighs dramatically and stands, “Alright alright, you've swayed me!”

Lucky shushes the crowd and Jameson took a deep breath, singing from his stomach a tune from back home, his voice rich enough to fill the large room by himself. He thinks of Maria as the people hang on to every note that pours from his mouth.

Stay with me til dusk my dear,

Sway with me til morning comes.

Together we'll sing 'long with the breeze,

And here we'll sleep for eternity. 

Stay with me, my dear, my love.

Stay with me,

Stay.

As he holds the final note the audience erupts into applause and Jameson humbly takes a bow with his hands clasped tightly together. 

"We're almost out of time but Jameson, that was enchanting! Absolutely enchanting! Thank you so much, was that a song from your District?" Lucky Flickerman asks, his stark white teeth gleaming unnaturally under the studio lights. 

"Yes it is. It's sung as a lullaby for many of the children." Jameson lies. Yes it is a lullaby, but its a song about two lovers seeking sanctuary in the forest. He didn't want them all to latch onto the wrong idea about him though.

"Incredible, absolutely incredible. Well, here's hoping that all of Panem won't lose your special gift so soon, James."

"Thank you, sir. I really appreciate that." Jameson smiles winningly.

Lucky gestures for him to take another bow as the timer dings for the next tribute to come on, "Jameson Jackson, ladies and gentleman!" The crowd cheers and applauses again, sending Jameson backstage where his face falls and he heaves a dramatic breath.

"That was a lot." Jameson chuckles faintly, hands on his knees as if he just ran a mile. He felt a pat on his back from Tamery as she passed him to go on stage.

"Thanks for the bode of confidence, James." She remarks, fluffy rainbow skirt bouncing around her hips as she walks on stage when her name is called. 

Tim then helps Jameson stand again, his own suit colored in a bold gradient to match the sunset, “You blew us all away, JJ.” He pats Jameson on the opposite shoulder before lightly pushing to send him back to his team.

°○°○°○°

Jameson lied awake for a long time in his room the night before the games. He should have been sleeping, but his mind was like an angry trackerjacker hive. Staring up at the ceiling, gently rolling the grape sized locket in his fingers, he couldn't help but think of home. Occasionally bringing it up, he clicks the locket open to see the yellowed pictures inside. 

He stared in the dark at the small hand drawn portraits of a husband and wife he never remembered meeting, but shared so many similarities to himself. His father's soft eyes, his mother's nose and faintly rounded cheeks. The same thick curly black hair. Jameson couldn't help but smile at his father's styled mustache. It curled in a funny way towards his nose that Jameson always assumed he must have greased it to keep its shape somehow. He remembers his Aunt Marry using the word “dapper” in a teasing tone to describe the unique look of her late brother.

To Jameson, Aunt Marry was his true mother in every way. But she insisted that she always wanted to be an aunt, so the title stuck like sap. She raised James by herself and never once complained- never complained around him, anyway. She taught him all the songs he knew and so much more about how to survive. How to live and how to smile despite the hardships. He wishes there was a picture of her in the locket, but there was barely room to fit his parents into the cramped space.

The surface of the locket had a relief of a maple seed- a "helicopter" as the older folks of District 7 had described them when they began to shower down in autumn. Twirling all the way down like dancers until they touched the ground safely. Jameson wasn't sure what the nickname for the seed was referring to, but he remembers picking up small handfuls of them and tossing them in the air so they spun back down into Maria's hair. Revenge was swift as Maria got back at him by shoving a handful of the seeds- and some dirt for good measure- down the back of his shirt. Jameson couldn't blame her, it was a nightmare trying to untangle the deceptively spiky seeds from her frizzy hair. The frizz always collected debris so easily when it was let down.

He absently ran his thumb over the polished gray metal as tears rolled down his cheeks. He missed District 7. He missed home so badly. 

Exhaustion finally took over him at some point. The sound of his younger self's laugh and the crunching of leaves under Maria's shoes echoing in his dreams, before they slowly morphed into nightmares.

°○°○°○°

Jameson could hear the blood rushing in his ears as the metal platform slowly raised him up.

He made a plan with the District 8 twins on the last day of training that they would try to meet and stay as a group. Jameson told his fellow tribute from 7 that if she could find them she could join if she wanted to, but she just shrugged and told him maybe.

The cornucopia glared like a raging hot fire against the harsh sunlight, reflecting golden light into everyone's eyes. Jameson tried to get his bearings of the surrounding area but all he could see was white. 

He understood quickly why his jacket was so thick and why his pants were lined with some kind of warm water proof material. He pulled his knitted hat more firmly over his ears as a harsh wind bit through his little exposed skin.

Snow. 

The arena was a snow covered forest of pine trees nestled between three mountains. The sun was dazzling against the brilliant sparkling white of the snow and Jameson had seconds for his eyes to fully adjust- and take in what was directly in front of him.

“Let the 26th annual Hunger Games… BEGIN!” Announced the air before the bongs of the final countdown began.

Jameson knew he wouldn't stand a chance in the middle of the bloodbath, but he did see a small backpack not too far from him. And when the alarm rang out he bolted for it. About half the tributes slipped immediately and fell and Jameson nearly joined them. Catching himself on a knee before springing forward again.

He slid right past the backpack the first time because the entire ground around them was pristine glass-like ice, but he quickly scrambled back up- just in time to dodge a spear being thrown at him. He turned his torso just enough to avoid being stuck like a kebab as the spear stuck into the ice, sending a web of small cracks across the ground. Jameson didn't hesitate, he grabbed both the pale blue backpack and the spear sticking out of the ground. To say the least he was not great with a spear in training, but it was better than no weapon at all as he skated across the ice field- finally gaining traction in the snow at the edge of the field and sprinting for the treeline.

He didn't dare look back as he crashed through the naked brush. The echo of canons followed him the deeper into the sparse forest as he went. He knew he wouldn't be able to easily hide his footsteps, but neither could anybody else without great effort. So Jameson decided to get as much distance as he physically could and ignore the trail he blazed behind himself.

It took about an hour of traveling through ankle high powder before Jameson found a rock outcropping to hide under and take stock of his mystery supplies. He'd never been this exhausted in his entire life. Sure, he sometimes went and chopped up branches when they were too big for the wood chipper, but he worked in the paper mill. He wasn't a proper lumberjack. While he could climb trees and did so often, he was a shop kid who worked in the paper presses. He didn't have the same level of skill for scaling trees like a squirrel, or the stamina from long work days in the forests. Shaking the doubts in himself aside, he carefully started pulling everything out of the bag and laid it all in a neat row.

There wasn't much.

Thick dark tinted goggles, flint and steel, a shiny piece of plastic material that Jameson realized is a thermal blanket, a small pack of jerky, and an empty tin thermos that was already cold to the touch. And of course the spear, which looking at it now, Jameson saw it had something- someone's- blood on it already. 

Okay. Horrifying. But he could work with this. Hell the silvery blanket was already way more than he could have prayed for in an environment like this.

He throughly cleaned the blood off the spear with snow- throwing some fresher powder over the stark red stain when he finished- and slipped the goggles on, already so thankful that he wasn't being blinded by the sparkling snow anymore. He was starting to get dark spots in his vision from looking at the blinding white for too long.

Jameson debated for a while after packing everything away if he should keep waiting for the twins here in the rocks or move on– when he heard the noise of snow crunching under foot. 

Two sets of feet. But was it them?

Jameson tucked himself deep into the rocks, spear at the ready, he strained his ears to get an idea of who was here.

"Are you sure he went this way? I can barely see anything out here!" One person, a boy probably, whispered harshly. Jameson could hear his teeth chattering already from his hiding spot.

"Yes, I'm sure.” The second voice, probably a girl's, snapped. “Besides, we've followed the tracks this long. It's either JJ or somebody else. Let's just hope it's not that little boy from 10. He seemed like a sweetheart." 

“Okay, but if they try to kill us I'm killing you again myself.”

The girl let out a snort for a laugh.

Jameson perked up at the familiar bickering and carefully peeked his head out from his hiding place. Immediately brightening when he saw the matching pair of friendly hazel eyes look in his direction when he called out.

As soon as they get into the outcropping Jameson says, "Are either of you hurt? Did you manage to grab anything before getting out of there?"

"Tim managed to get a few ice picks and some kind of spiked shoe cover things. I grabbed a bag of apples and some rope but that's it. Tim got into a bit of a scrape over the ice picks, but I shoved the girl off and we got away with only a few small cuts." Tamery said, vaguely waving to a thin slash going across her eyebrow and cheek but missing her eye entirely. Tim was sporting a few slashes in his jacket and a slightly bruised eye but that was about it. Jameson checked them over but there wasn't any deep gashes, so they should be fine. He gently pressed some clean snow to Tim's cheek and told Tamery to use clean snow and wash the blood off her eyebrow. They were all incredibly lucky.

Jameson wondered how long the luck would last.

It turned out, not even a day and a half.

The first night was horrible. Jameson and Tim wrapped themselves around Tamery as they all shared the thin thermal blanket. They had dug out a small burrow in the snow with their hands and ice picks, hiding themselves inside for the night. At least they weren't out in the wind or exposing themselves with a fire. Tim poked his head out like a rabbit when the projections of the dead tributes shone across the sky to the tune of the anthem. 

When it finished, Tim snuggled back in, relaying the 5 tributes who were killed today in the bloodbath. He frowns and looks at Jameson, "I'm sorry, JJ, the girl from your District… she didn't make it..." 

Jameson pales as Tamery hugs him tightly, he clings back and hides his face against her jacket, hoping the cameras couldn't see his tears while they were in the burrow.

No fire means no extra warmth, so the three huddle close and fitfully tried to sleep through the night.

As soon as the sun broke over the mountain the three went hunting. They had basic knowledge of snares from their training but not much in the way of hunting with weapons. Jameson took the rope from Tamery, unraveling it into thirds to make thinner cord and setting up some simple traps to hopefully catch some hares. Tim spotted the tracks for them so they crossed their fingers that it would work.

In the meantime they all debated the pros and cons of starting a fire. 

It was daylight so it wouldn't be terribly noticeable like it would be at night, but the smoke could signal somebody to their location. However if they strayed from other tributes for too long the game makers would probably send something at them. Something far worse than getting jumped by a career pack.

They decided to risk it and built a small fire inside their burrow to conceal the smoke somewhat. Jameson shoved as much snow as he could into the cup of his thermos and set it on the coals to melt and hopefully boil. He repeated this several times while Tim kept watch. Tamery used the end of JJ's spear to slice into an apple and passed out slices to each of them.

It was quiet for the most part. They all decided to stick together and have nobody wander off. So when the trio went to go check on the snares for any rabbits, they were slightly more prepared to face off against the boy from District 4. 

The fight was brutal, and Tamery thought her wrist was broken, but Tim got the final blow and used JJ's spear to finish off the other boy. The canon fired and Jameson immediately searched the boy's belongings for any food. Tamery debated shucking off his jacket, but Tim turned it down, queasy about the blood soaking through it. Instead he took the laces from the boy's boots and his gloves which were a little tight on Tim's hands but worked.

They watched the hovercraft carry away the body over the small mountain range and Jameson felt a little sick holding the new knife and small sack of bread. But what else could they have done? The boy was just as ready to kill them as they were. He swallowed back his tears and checked on the snares.

They decided to try and move uphill after making a splint out of branches and one of the boot laces for Tamery's wrist. Tim holds tightly to her other hand as Jameson leads them through the trees. It was when the sun was about to kiss the opposite mountain goodnight when a scream echoed up from deeper in the forest. Another canon sounded. Could have been anyone. They decided to make camp for the night.

About a quarter of the way up the mountain the next morning, they came across a pool of some kind. It was frozen over with a layer of powdered snow so they didn't have a good sight of what was under the ice. Tim tapped the glassy surface with his spear and it chimed like one of the crystal glasses at the dinner table back in the tribute's center. The hairs on the back of Jameson's neck stood up as he whipped his neck around. Something was off, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.

"Hey, Tim? Maybe lets leave the weird glass pond alone." He says slowly, trying to pinpoint what changed. The ringing of the ice still sang around them in a sweet tune. Carrying much longer than it should have.

"But nothings happening?" Tim replied uneasily but lifted the spear to tap the surface again.

"Well don't do it again!" Tamery hissed, grabbing the spear to stop it. The twins began to bicker then there it was. 

A low rumbling coming from higher up on the mountain they were climbing. All three heads slowly turned up and in the distance they saw a massive rolling wall of snow. It was somewhat unclear if tapping the lake caused it or another tribute higher up did, but they did not stick around to debate. Sprinting as fast as they could back down the mountain as the avalanche chased them with accelerating speed and hunger.

The avalanche was louder than anything Jameson had ever heard in his life, and he had visited the giant dam in District 7. But this, it was roaring loud and deep unlike anything Jameson had ever known. 

He and the twins were going as fast as they could, but Tamery slipped on a hidden patch of ice so Jameson had to double back and help her up before they all kept sprinting into the trees.

"CLIMB!" Jameson commands as they make it a few trees in, he boosted up Tamery and Tim first before scampering up behind them. Unlike District 7 kids who have an innate ability to scale, it seems that District 8 kids don't have the same climbing ability. But they are going as quick as they could as Jameson looked back to the too-close avalanche. "Hold on! Hold on!" He called, wrapping his arms tight around the trunk of the tree and the twins do the same. He thinks Tamery is screaming in fear but its drowned out by the crashing sounds of the snow rushing into the forest. Jameson is just praying the tree holds steady and the snow doesn't pile high enough to bury them from the ground up.

The tree they cling to as a lifeboat shudders and threatens to give way a few times. Jameson pressed his forehead to the trunk and thought he faintly could feel his fingers bleeding from gripping so tight to the bark as stray snow and ice chunks pelt his back.

Jameson was about to call up to the twins and see how they were holding up- but something hit the back of his head. His eyes rolled in his head and blacked out almost immediately. The last thing he was conscious of was feeling his grip slip from the bark. 

Then nothing.

°○°○°○°

In his dreams he's looking up at the gold dappled light through the trees. The first warm winds of spring blowing through the branches and his hair. He looks to his right and finds Maria- his Maple- using her deft fingers to weave a crown from the fresh green grass they were laying in. He reached towards her but there was some kind of unseen barrier between them. He sits up and touched it again, the invisible surface rippling under his fingers and Maria did not seem to notice him at all. But she did turn her head in the opposite direction, and Jameson followed her gaze.

The trees beyond them were breaking and curling forward, as if they were snapping joints into place to create some kind of rooted mass of a beast. Giant spikes for teeth and claws, the approximation of where eyes would be; burning like hot coals. But Maria didn't move, simply staring at the monster that was coming to kill her.

Panic settled into his bones, he started pounding on the invisible separation, screaming her name to no avail. He couldn't even hear himself. Just the gentle rustling of the leaves over head and the gnarled snapping of trunks and branches barreling towards them.

Maria slowly stood up and turned to face Jameson, and he jumped back in horror. Her eyes were now deep black gouges where sockets should be, her jaw hinged and hung low on her head, broken. She was made entirely out of wood. She was a wooden puppet and suddenly Jameson could see the strings that held her up disappearing into the dark sky above- when did it become dark? He looked back to her in horror, but her empty eyes stared empty into his. A block of wood acting as her hand waved to him. Jameson goes to put his hand over hers but found his hand had also been transformed into timber. Looking down so has the rest of himself, it was all roughly carved into a mockery of a person's body. He wanted to scream but he felt his jaw unable to move. He uselessly paws at his face and found that he doesn't even have a mouth.

James suddenly snapped his head up as the howling tree monster barreled into them both, breaking whatever barrier was there and snapping strings, trampling them both bodies into sawdust and splinters. He could feel the arm-like logs crush every part of him, collapsing what was once his ribcage and knocking Maria's head from her body entirely.

He tried to scream again, but the only sound came from inside his own head, as if he was trapped inside a wooden casket with no hope of escaping.

°○°○°○°

He's not sure how long he was out for, but when Jameson's eyes fluttered open it's a herculean effort to not let them close again and go back to sleep. His head throbbed in pain, but more so than that, he was cold, and his body immediately began shivering. Which in turn did not help his pounding headache and he groaned low in his chest. 

Tim was the first one to enter his vision and the boy from eight's smile was like a ray of sunlight, "Good morning, James. Thought we really lost you out there. Have a good nap?" He laughed shakily, tucking some of Jameson's hair back under his hat and pulled it more snugly over his ears. 

When he managed to push through the pain in his head and ask how long he had been out, Tamery pipes in that it had been about a day. The twins took turns explaining what had happened up in that tree. 

Jameson got knocked out by something- a chunk of flying ice- and Tim leaped down to catch him. Tamery held onto Tim as he held onto Jameson's dangling body over the rushing snow. It was a miracle the branch didn't snap while it held all three of them at once. They used some of the rope to tie everyone to the trunk and they both held onto Jameson, hoping he wasn't dead.

Eventually the avalanche did stop, and weirdly it seemed like the extra snow just distributed itself across the arena evenly. Must have been some weird game maker stuff. They didn't spend too long thinking about it. The twins worked together to lower Jameson's body down and they assessed the damage. The back of Jameson's head was bleeding sluggishly, but after cleaning as much blood as they could they found it wasn't that deep of a cut- but it still left him out cold. 

They loaded Jameson onto Tim's back and they started walking away from the mountain, seeking shelter so they could take care of each other. Tamery's wrist is properly broken now after trying to catch Tim and was sporting a new splint. The twins managed to find a tight cluster of pine trees and Tim dug out another burrow. Tamery held onto Jameson so he wouldn't lose more body heat and Tim started a low fire just outside their burrow. They needed to keep Jameseon warm as best they could.

5 tributes were killed in the avalanche.

Evidently, the fire did attract another tribute, but Tim had finished them off quickly and drug the body away from camp for pick up. 

Jameson felt a bit numb. Already Tim had killed 2 other tributes. He looked over to him and could now see the slight hollow look in his eyes despite his easy grin. 

"Why didn't you let me go?" Jameson asked, "You could have just dropped my body and let the avalanche take me. Why did you risk your necks for me?" 

Tim scoffed like it was the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard, "Because we're a team. And I'm not the kind of man to let my friends go without a fight. You can't ditch us that easily, James.”

Friends. Jameson could feel both his stomach twist and his heart warm at the word. It was wonderful that the three of them had bonded, but then reality crashed back onto him like a dead tree. 

Only one walks out. Only one person walks away from the arena alive.

He swallowed that down and pulled Tim into a hug the best he could while laying down. Faintly Jameson was aware they're on camera, so he reached his hand out to Tamery and pulled her into the hug as well.

That night, after they coaxed him into eating and drinking something, Jameson was squished between the twins. They had extinguished and buried the fire under snow, but Jameson still stayed awake for a while, listening to the world outside their little bubble. 

There were no faces in the sky that night.

°○°○°○°

The next morning, they decided to stay hunkered down and give Jameson some time to recover. 

Tamery checked to see if the coast was clear before collecting some sticks to build another small fire once the sun didn't cast the mountain's chilled shadow over their little sanctuary.

All things considered, they were doing okay. They had food and some water left, a small source of warmth and company.

"I didn't see any names last night. What about the night I was knocked out?" Jameson asked Tamery while Tim was out setting some more snares. They lost their original traps to the avalanche and the jerky and bread were gone. 

Tamery hummed in thought as she set two apples next to the fire to roast them, "Girl from 12, and boy from 11 I think. I didn't really pay attention to all of them but I heard a few more canons during the avalanche so that's…" She paused to count in her head, "13 total? I think?" 

Jameson nods slowly. 13 dead, and he would have been one of them if Tim's hand slipped. He's extremely grateful as he bites into his piece of the last frozen bread roll.

They spent about 2 days in this location. The trees provided cover and they had a good amount of food to ration thanks to the traps. The trio spoke quietly of their lives back home, the family and friends they miss dearly. They even swapped stories to pass the time and keep Jameson from focusing too much on his pain. 

At some point, another canon fired in the distance, and some time later a silver parachute hangs itself neatly on a tree branch. Tim scampered quickly to get it and brought it back into the burrow. 

They're not sure exactly who it was for, but inside was a steaming pot of hot chocolate. Little white puffs still floated around as steam lazily rose up. They each savored one large sip of the creamy drink before they decided to save the rest for later. For a special occasion.

The next morning Jameson decided he's well enough to move again. The twins shared a doubtful look with each other but they packed up camp anyway. The trio decided to head for the opposite mountain. Tamery pointed out that there wasn't snow at the top of one so maybe the rocks were warmer somehow? They didn't think too hard about it, the hot chocolate helped a little but the cold had been slowly getting to them. They needed to move.

Unfortunately they weren't the only ones who had this same idea about the rocks without snow.

When they got to the rock shelf up on the mountain they quickly realized it was occupied. 

A fight broke out and everything happened so fast Jameson barely processed any of it at the moment.

Two larger tributes were cooking at a fire when the trio approached. They had a sword and an axe and they rushed the three of them. Tamery tried using her good hand to swing an ice pick but it was barely any good. Jameson tackled the girl with the axe and wrestled her for it, ripping it from her hands as Tim stabbed at the boy with the spear. Jameson rolled away from the girl and kicked some of the hot coals into the other boy's face- causing him to thrash wildly with the sword. It had cut Tim's arm deep enough for him to drop the spear and the other girl to nab it. Tamery came around behind her however and plunged an icepick into the girl's back. The other boy screamed and turned on Jameson, but Tim stepped in front of him as the sword plunged deep into Tim's side. 

Jameson was in shock and couldn't move- watched Tim fall to his knees clutching his side. Tamery snarled and leaped at the bigger boy. Jameson didn't see what she did because he was focused on Tim, but soon enough two canons fired and Tamery limped back over. Covered in blood. Jameson was just quick to leap and catch Tim as he finally topped over.

Tamery's face broke as she fell to her knees with them and ripped her brother away from Jameson's hands to hold him close herself. She wailed into the quickly cooling night air and Jameson crawled over to be by them. Taking Tim's hand he whispered to him over and over again, "I'm sorry, Tim. I'm so sorry. Why would you do that-? You- I'm so sorry…" 

Tamery tried her best to choke off her tears as she pressed her hand over the rapidly spreading red stain on her brother's light blue jacket. 

Tim coughed faintly, his breathing was shallow but he looked up to the two above him. His lips cracked as he smiled again, "Mind.. mind singing me away, James? Better-" He coughs again, specks of blood spraying out. "Better to hear that than my dumb sister crying." He chuckled wetly.

Tamery smacked him, but it was barely a tap. She pressed her forehead to his and tried to swallow her tears and noises down.

Jameson quickly wiped his eyes and nodded quickly. He took a shaky breath and started to sing a gentle tune, never letting go of Tim's already cold hand. A song about the warmth of home and being surrounded by those who love you most. Jameson cursed himself for letting his voice shake, but Tim didn’t seem to mind. His hazel eyes drifted from his beloved twin back to Jameson and finally settled onto the sky. Strange lights of greens and blues and purples danced over their heads. Tim thought they are the most beautiful colors he had ever seen. 

His hand went slack in Jameson's and the canon fired. 

It took a long time to pull Tamery away from her brother's body after Jameson slipped the other tribute's and Tim's unneeded supplies into his own backpack. 

"Tam, we have to go-"

"No! I'm not leaving him!" 

"Tamery, it's not safe here- more people will be coming soon. We have to move!" He pleaded.

"Fuck you, James! Its your fault this happened! If you had just-"

"What could I have done?! We were both fighting and he stepped in front of me! So much was happening I-"

"YOU COULD HAVE NOT LET MY BROTHER DIE!" She screamed, her voice echoing across the arena. "IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN YOU!" It felt like the whole mountain shook under the weight of her grief. 

Jameson swallowed hard and set his mouth into a tight line. He knew deep down she was right. But there wasn't anything he could do. In that moment he swore he was going to get them off that fucking mountain. The easy way, or the hard way. 

Turned out, to nobody's surprise, it was the hard way. Jameson had to pry Tamery away from her twin's body and practically drag her down the mountainside kicking and screaming. Which was impressive in its own right because she gained a massive gash in her leg to match her broken wrist during the fight. 

It took about an hour for Jameson to find a cave and pull Tamery inside. She was exhausted at that point, refusing to look at JJ as he did his best to clean and wrap her injuries with the new medical kit he took. He handed her a cup of water from the thermus and some rabbit meat and sat against the opposite wall to her. She spent a long time just staring at the objects in her hands uncomprehendingly before she finally took a bite. When she did, Jameson suppressed a sigh of relief as he moved to make a small fire on the stone floor. They're deep enough in the cave he wasn't too worried about their light being spotted immediately. 

Though upon lighting the small blaze he realized they're not a cave. What he thought was the back of the cave seemed to stretch further into total darkness. It was a tunnel. A tunnel that stretches past the pitiful light of the fire and down deep into the heart of the mountain. Jameson swallowed hard then suddenly hoped Tamery didn't notice. What could be in there?

Tamery didn't notice as she pulled her knees close to her chest and buried her face in her arms, effectively blocking out the world. Jameson's heart broke for her. He could not even begin to fathom what must have been going through her head. Losing a sibling was one thing, but your twin? The person you had literally spent your entire life with? That was something else entirely.

"Guess I'll take the first watch." He mumbled to himself half heartedly, warming his hands over the small fire and scanning back and forth. From the pitch black night at the mouth of the cave, back into the pitch black nothingness in the throat of the tunnel. The fire seemed to temporarily protect them from being swallowed with its small bubble of golden light.

He didn't dare to even hum to comfort himself, afraid that a tune would carry farther than he'd think and alert someone- or something, whatever- to their location. 

Jameson watched the coals burn low and wondered to himself if he could have done anything to save Tim. Maybe it should have been Jameson that died on the mountainside with the twins watching over him instead. But no. He stepped in the way, and Jameson couldn't stop stubborn Tim even if he had a chance to try.

Jameson's head was dipping dangerously low when he decided he couldn't stay awake any longer. He got up and gently shook Tamery awake, but she wasn't asleep at all. Her gray eyes rimmed red and her cheeks were damp. Heavy purple bags rested under her eyes as tears quickly cooled her face. Jameson took Tim's- his glove off to wipe them away before they froze to her skin. 

They stared at each other, grief and regret bouncing between them like a hall of never ending mirrors, until Tamery grabbed his jacket front and pulled, hugging Jameson tight. He did not hesitate to return it just as fiercely. 

Backs against the cave wall, Jameson dozed on Tamery's shoulder with the thermal blanket wrapped around them both. They didn't utter a word to each other as the fire flickered out.

°○°○°○°

It was hard to tell what time Jameson was shaken awake. It was still dark outside the cave's mouth and Tamery looked panicked as she slapped her good hand over his mouth. Jameson was about to protest when there was the sound of something inside the tunnel.

Breathing. Low and slow. Sleeping.

Their eyes silently met and communicated. As fast as they dared, the two picked up their camp and carefully made their way to the mouth of the tunnel. Pausing every few steps to let the faint crunching sounds of their boots on rock settle back into harsh silence.

A shift and rumble of an unseen beast's body made them pause after a few more steps. Daring to look back, they saw a set of glowing yellow eyes illuminated in the darkness.

There was a beat of stillness.

Jameson and Tamery bolted, practically threw themselves out of the mouth of the tunnel and down the mountainside like two bullets shooting from a gun. All the while an enormous furred beast chased them with slobbering snarls and booming steps. When it roared, Jameson and Tamery couldn't stop their own screams of terror as they fled, half running and half rolling down the lower part of the snow covered mountain. 

Adrenaline gave them the wings to fly through the ice-covered powder in the dim early morning light and Jameson's mind reeled.

Where could they even go? 

There were very few places to hide, and there was no way Tamery could climb a tree fast enough with her leg. His head throbbed with the remnants of his lingering concussion. 

Suddenly, an idea hit Jameson like a block of ice. 

"Get to the cornucopia!" He yelled, turning on his heel as he threw the axe at the hulking white monster that was all dingy white fur and yellowed teeth. Some kind of muttation that Jameson vaguely figured was inspired by a bear of some kind. If the bear was built like a brick house and had two extra rows of shark teeth where its gums should be.

The axe struck the creature in the shoulder but it easily dislodged from its flesh, the weapon flying away in an arch before being lost to the powder immediately. But it bought Jameson enough time to catch up to Tamery who was limping as fast as she could. He managed to help drag her along and he forced himself to ignore her cries of pain. He yelled encouragingly at her to keep moving. Just keep running. They were almost there!

As soon as they broke through the trees that surrounded the golden cornucopia, the careers who made camp inside it immediately burst out with weapons drawn. When the beast shatters two trees in its rampage, however, the tribute's faces turn from a pack of dogs on a hunt, to a bunch of terrified children.

There was a flurry of confusion as Jameson and Tamery ran across the ice- the cleats on their boots gripping into the ice and allowed them to not slip on their asses. In fact, it allowed Jameson to shove Tamery out of the way as they split off, sending her skidding across the ice with a shout and allowing the giant beast- with no traction on the ice- to slide right into the career pack.

The sounds of screams and crunching bones filled the crisp morning air and Jameson froze for a moment to witness the carnage. 

The stark contrast of bright red blood on the pristine white snow was dizzying. He could feel the meager dinner from last night churn in his stomach, but he had no time to throw up,  as one of the careers from District Two tackled him to the ground. She was furious, yelling at Jameson and trying to plunge a massive hunting knife into his head. He dodged left and right before getting his spiked boots under her and kicking her off to go sliding- away from the beast. 

A couple arrows stuck out from its matted fur but it barely seemed to notice as he was tearing into the stomach of the girl from 1. Jameson quickly scrambled to his feet and looked for Tamery in the confusion, spotting her darting into the mouth of the cornucopia. He quickly joined her and they both hid behind a black crate, splattered in the blood from the other tributes. 

Tamery clutched her freshly bleeding leg. Teeth clenched so she wouldn't cry out when Jameson put pressure on her reopened wound with a cloth. They both listened for an agonizingly long time as the beast tore the small career pack to shreds. The wet sounds of meat being torn from bone and whimpers of agony ringing out into the air as snow began to fall. Snowflakes immediately melting into the warm pools of blood.

Jameson located a small handheld crossbow among the piles of supplies located inside their hiding place. He loaded it as quietly as he could. He knew it wouldn't do much against that creature, but if a tribute came in there all it would take is one shot to the head…

The sound of the three booming canon shots seemed to scare the beast back to its cave, grunting and huffing with every step to keep its balance on the ice.

Jameson and Tamery stayed where they were, not wanting to expose themselves to survivors or draw the attention of the monster back. 

They waited and listened as the hovercrafts retrieved the dead before they let out matching sighs of relief. Jameson handed the crossbow to Tamery before moving to check on her leg. The torn cloth bandage was soaked through so Jameson turned his back to look for a medical kit, “They have to have some proper bandages stashed somewhere in h-”

He froze in place when he heard the click of the safety being flicked off of the crossbow. Horrified, Jameson didn't need to turn around to know that Tamery had the bolt trained on Jameson's back. He slowly lifted his hands in surrender and turned around to face the stand-alone twin. 

Jameson searched her face and could barely get the whisper out around the knot in his throat, "Why?" 

Tamery just shook her head, face hard set with tears cutting through the smudges of grime and blood on her face. "Get. Out." She spat through her teeth. Jameson felt himself shaking.

Confused and still pumped with adrenaline. He shook his head and went to speak again but she cut him off, "Get out, Jameson Jackson! I don't want anything more to do with you!" Her voice was rough, it starkly contrasted the anguished scream from last night with a coldness that cut through Jameson's bones. "You have put me and my brother into so much danger. It was your idea to climb that mountain and it was your idea to lead that THING into the careers! How long until you get me killed with your stupid plans! Just like Tim!" Her eyes narrowed, “Was that your game plan from the start? Make us trust you then get us all murdered?”

“No! Tamery I would never-”

“Bullshit! One one of us walks out of here Jameson Jackson and it shouldn't be you.”

"Then why don't you pull the trigger?" Jameson asked, his chest twisted into a harsh knot. This is probably the first time in his life he has truly felt betrayal.

Tamery hesitated. Jameson could see her hand shaking the small crossbow, "Because," she took a deep breath, her hazel eyes once holding glimmers of a rainbow, now were dark like a raging thunderstorm, "Because Tim would be so disappointed in me."

For the second time in 24 hours, Jameson's heart shattered.

“Tamery-”

“Go.” She growled, baring her teeth with a cornered animal.

Jameson swallowed hard and slowly stood up, never turning his back on the crossbow trained on him as he grabbed a sack of random supplies. He wanted to say goodbye, but something from the treeline startled him. He took off running as soon as left the mouth of the cornucopia.

He swore he could feel his heart bleeding in his ribcage. 

This was the nature of the games. It was better this way. Better than having your friend kill you at the end of the line. He held in a sob.

Jameson ran deep into the forest before scaling a tree, wrapping his arms around the trunk and allowing himself to break. Just a little. Hastily wiping the tears from his cheeks before they could freeze to his skin. Taking deep shaky breaths he tried to center himself again. But the images of Tim dying and Tamery's fury flashed in his mind and the tears started up all over again.

He had to get it together. Tamery had half of the supplies when they escaped the cave so Jameson maybe had a day or two left of food if he rationed. She took the flint and steel as well as his silver thermal blanket. Upon searching the sack of supplies he hastily grabbed, all he could find was more rope, a knife, and some sort of.. wheels? He picked one out of the bag and realized it was a pulley. There were only a few of them but the rope threaded into them perfectly.

Gears turned in Jameson's mind and he started formulating a plan. Afterall, there were only so many of them left.

Going back to their old camp in the cluster of trees, Jameson began using his ice pick to dig a new burrow. But he wouldn't be sleeping in there. No, under a layer of snow, Jameson carefully laid out a rope snare that led back to the highest tree in the cluster. Carefully weighted with a heavy branch, all Jameson had to do was wait for someone to go inside and investigate and the trap would go off.

He built a fire, not caring that it gave away his position in the quickly setting light. That was the point. He toasted the last apple, boiled more snow into water, and sipped the hot chocolate. The sweet creaminess of it felt bitter in Jameson's stomach now, but it was warm and filling. He threw some green pine branches onto the fire, immediately making it more smoky, before he traced his own steps in the snow towards the big tree. Jameson had made sure to thoroughly stomp around the area so his tracks would be harder to follow to his hiding place. He shook some of the lower branches free of their snow, just for added measure.

Then he hunkered down in a high up branch and waited.

This was by far his worst night in the games. 

Without Tim and Tamery's body heat or the protection of the thermal blanket, Jameson could feel his body heat being leached out of him with every gust of frigid wind. He tried to see it as a blessing when the snowflakes started coming down in larger globs. The fact that it was snowing at all meant it was technically warmer than a cloudless night sky. And feeling the snow pile against his back, he convinced himself it would add more cover from the wind. Jameson pulled the hood of his jacket tight over his face and tried to stay upright. 

His head was pounding from his concussion and the exertion of the day. Between that and the bitter cold he wanted so badly to just sleep. He didn't feel the cold as much when he slept, but he knew it would be a bad idea.

Catching himself dozing, Jameson began to wrap some extra rope around himself and the trunk of the tree when he heard it.

Snap!

Jameson tried not to jump, instead freezing in place and listening carefully to the movements below.

In the distance he heard a canon fire.

Who was that? Tamery? Jameson thought to himself before getting thrown back into his own situation. 

He looked down and saw a tribute, cautiously walking into his fake camp like a nervous rabbit, ready to bolt at any moment. It was hard to tell who it was- they were bundled so much in a long blue scarf that Jameson couldn't see much of their face. But it didn't matter. 

Setting his resolve, Jameson put a hand on the log weight attached to his trap and watched as the tribute approached the fire. He watched the tribute take their thin gloves off to warm their hands- Jameson could see from his place in the tree that their fingers were blue. Almost touching the licking flames with seemingly no fear of being burned.

They did this for a minute, giving up as they turned to the burrow, carefully crawling inside hoping to seek shelter from the wind. 

There was pressure on the rope.

With a heaving push, Jameson shoved the heavy log out of its wedge and the rope snapped tight, ensnaring whoever was inside by their ankles as it dragged them out. The burrow collapsed on top of them before their body got ripped across the firepit. They let out a scream as the hot coals caught on their clothes and started to burn almost immediately. But the rope and pulley system Jameson rigged wasn't finished in its trajectory. Jameson must have miscalculated-  because it practically flung the tribute into the air before gravity clutched them in its fist and slammed them back down onto the frozen earth. It looked as though something invisible grabbed the tribute's chest and tried to drag their heart directly into the ground.

There was a sickening thud and crunch, but no canon fire. Jameson scuttled down his tree with his knife in his teeth. He didn't want whoever that was to suffer- so without even registering their frostbitten face, he plunged the knife down. Through their scarf, and into their throat. 

The canon sang. 

This was the first person Jameson had directly killed. Sure, he led the beast to the career pack, but before that it was Tim and then Tamery who had actual blood on their hands. This was the first time it properly stained his now-gray gloves.

Red oozed from the tribute's neck, seeping deep into the pristine white snow. Globs of snowflakes were already working hard to try and cover the red as Jameson cut the tribute's ankles free and backed away into the shadow of the falling sun's light.

As soon as the craft crested back over the mountain out of sight, the Panem anthem began to play, displaying the faces of those who had fallen that day.

Three out of four members of the career pack, someone Jameson barely recognized from the training center, and the little boy from 10. The one Tamery wished would join their party if they ever found him. Was he the one Jameson just killed? 

He immediately discarded the thought, knowing it to be true deep down but if he let it, the thought would break him. 

No, that person was too big to be the boy. He remembered the twelve year old being so much smaller. It couldn't have been him. But he was so much lighter than Jameson expected for any of the older tributes…

He slammed the lid shut on that train of thought before it could go any further. He screwed it tight and hid it away deep in his mind. He couldn't afford to lose his grip now.

Only one walks out.

It shouldn't have been Jameson.

It should have been that little boy.

What did they all think of him now back home in District 7?

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Jameson carefully took apart his trap and stashed everything in his backpack. Sparing a glance to the blood stain in the snow before turning harshly and walking out of the ring of trees. 

He couldn't stay here and let the guilt swallow him whole. 

°○°○°○°

Trudging through the snow was difficult when it had gotten to knee-height and he could barely see in front of his own face. Jameson forced himself to keep moving, steering clear of the hollow areas under the trees where no snow collected. 

He remembered his aunt warning him and Maria never to play in them when they were children. Yes, it looked like a perfect place to build a fort, but Marry grabbed one of the branches and gave the whole tree a harsh shake. It sent pounds of snow crashing down through the branches and filled the gap almost instantly. 

"You would be buried under there and suffocate in the snow. Nobody would be able to find your tiny bodies until spring when it all melts away." 

Maria had burst into tears at the scary thought, but they both got the message loud and clear. 

Still, the patches of dry-ish earth under the canopy of a pine tree looked extremely inviting. A shelter ready and waiting to keep someone trapped forever. Maybe one of the faces in the sky had tried that already.

How many of them were left now? Jameson thought to himself, shivering with each step he took. He counted in his head as he wrapped his arms around himself. 

He had to stop when he realized. 

Killing that other tribute meant that Jameson was now in the top three. Everything was happening so fast in the games he barely registered that they had made it that far.

It was him. Tamery. And the career girl from District 2.

Jameson immediately scaled up a tree to hide, a new shot of adrenaline heating him from his core. Surely the game makers wanted a grand show for the finale. So what on earth could it be?

It took about an hour of him clinging to the tree, the cold slowly tempting him to doze off when he got his answer.

The mountain with no snow on its top, it wasn't a mountain at all.

It was a volcano. 

The top of it burst into a shower of orange fire and rock. All Jameson could do was watch in horror as the lava rapidly spewed out like a giant canopy, sending burning rock and magma across the entire arena.

But after the first spew, Jameson watched helplessly as the main river of lava flowed directly towards the cornucopia. Replacing the ice field with boiling magma. The steam from rapidly melting snow connecting with the unrelenting lava blocked out any visibility in a barrier of white. Jameson couldn't see what was happening down there but all he could think about was Tamery.

All of the lava seemed to flood directly into the ice field, but burning hunks of rock still flew across the entire arena, catching some patches of the forest on fire in an instant. Jameson knew he had to move, but where could he go? 

Even if he did try to run away, the game makers would try to either flush him back towards the others or lead them to him. He was paralyzed with indecision until he heard the canon fire. Jameson snapped his head up to the sky to see the image of Tamery, his friend from District Eight, blaze across.

“Tamery…” Jameson whispered, willing himself not to let it come out as a cry.

Something inside of him shifted. It was like he was drawn back into his own mind as his body moved without his input.

Jameson climbed down the tree, ignoring how the top had caught alight. 

He couldn't fully comprehend what he was doing or what was happening around himself. His hands moved independently from his mind.

Tying knots, looping rope around branches, a small ball of fire whizzing past his cheek-

He chased the ball of fire to where it landed. It had melted a deep hole through the snow and partway into the ground. He followed it with his ice pick and started to dig.

By god did he dig.

His icepick moved fast but rhythmically down, down, down into the earth as the world around him began to glow brighter.

At some point he found himself grunting with effort to climb out of the hole he had made. 

How had he dug that so fast? It didn't matter. 

Jameson watched his stiff hands as they set up a very similar snare to the one he made earlier that morning. The one that killed the small boy from District 10. Only someone so small could have flown so high.

Jameson found himself wishing that this trap would actually work on someone bigger than a scrawny twelve year old.

It didn't matter. His mind blurred as he finished his project, not fully sure what this thing would do but he covered the pit with a layer of pine branches and snow. 

Jameson climbed a tree that wasn't on fire and waited.

Naturally, the game makers didn't want this going on forever, so it wasn't long until Jameson heard crashing footsteps and unhinged laughter from the woods. The girl from District 2 staggered into view from below, and Jameson felt nothing.

Dancing flames licked at the trees behind her as she called into the night air in a sing-song voice, “Jaaaamesooonnn,” She sang and Jameson became an ice statue. 

“Jamie-son, Jamie-son, Jamie-son JACK-son!” The girl sang in the same jaunty tune that Lucky Flickerman had playfully done at the interview. He could see her now through the branches, half of her body was covered in cuts and burns, her snow clothes flaked away from her in chunks of ash. “Come on out, little songbird.” She mocked in a cooing tone, another cackle seemed to rip from her throat unbidden, “COME ON OUT!” She yelled, arms throwing her loaded bow around with an arrow nocked into place.

Between the cave beast attack and the volcano, she must have completely lost her mind. Her voice dipped low as she scanned the trees around her, singing quietly in a haunting tone,  “Come out, come out wherever you are…” She giggled as if this was a child's game of hide and seek. 

Jameson felt himself slipping, so he carefully tried to shift his weight to get a better hold onto the tree-

The branch snapped under his hand in betrayal. As quickly as it broke the girl from 2 let an arrow fly, striking him directly in the knee. 

A cry rips from Jameson as he feels his entire kneecap shatter on impact. One hand shook as it hovered over the arrow sticking out of his body and he debated if he should pull it or not.

Jameson's gaze locks onto the girl just as she shot another arrow at him like he was an unsuspecting squirrel clinging to the bark. His hand flew up instinctively to try and catch the bolt as it lodged right into his throat.

He tried to gasp as Jameson fell from the tree like a bird shot from the air. His leg with the arrow through it slammed against a branch on his way down before he fell onto his side in a pile of snow. He was choking on his own blood as he tried to grip the arrow in his neck, too in shock to pull it out or do anything at all except struggle to breathe through the blood.

As he desperately struggled to breathe, the girl from two couldn't stop laughing. Her cackle ringing like scrapes on a chalkboard through the air. He looked at her with one eye that wasn't full of snow and just watched her, unable to do anything else. 

Her arms were clutched over her stomach, her laugh howled like one of those hyena muttations Jameson had seen the year prior. She dropped her bow and stumbled around in circles, smiling wide at the sky, “Ladies and gentlemen!” She called, the cloud of her breath easily seen as she stepped backwards towards Jameson, “Your winner… of the HUNGER G-” 

Her words were cut short as she stepped back, directly into the hole that Jameson had dug. 

Her weight broke through the thin layer of branches that concealed the pit and her body dropped down like a bag of stones. She screamed before the rope caught around her throat- cutting off her windpipe and quickly snapping her neck thanks to the extra height of the short drop. 

Jameson lied there, dumbfounded and drowning in his own blood when he heard the canon fire.

It was like a dream when a disembodied voice spoke like a fading radio in Jameson's ear, “Ladies and gentlemen, our winner for the 26th Hunger Games!” 

Jameson allowed himself to close his eyes as the fire blazed around him. He finally felt warm even as the snow tried to blanket him in white.

°○°○°○°

They told him it was two days later when he woke up.

For what felt like a short eternity, floating in the darkness of his own head, Jameson Jackson was certain that he was dead. 

He was certain that if he kept searching this void he was in, eventually he would find his parents and maybe the twins somewhere. But no.

When his eyes fluttered open, he knew immediately he was alive because everything hurt.

His head was pounding, he couldn't move his leg, and his throat felt like he swallowed some of that lava directly. When he cried out in pain his voice sounded gargled, completely unrecognizable. It had even hurt to whisper. 

Very quickly the doctors ordered him not to speak as they injected morphling into his system. The drug dulled the pain almost instantly, and all other emotions that tried surface as well, allowing him to float on a pink cotton cloud of blissful nothingness.

He was very lucky, so they told him. It was hard to believe anything when his mind felt like cloud soup. 

They said they were quick to extract him from the arena. That they were able to save his leg for the most part though he would probably walk with a limp. And they said they managed to drain the blood that had collected in his lungs. But there was something else. 

A doctor with a soothing voice, one that was kind and had a soft face full of sympathy, gently told Jameson that they weren't so lucky with his vocal cords. 

It was a miracle in itself; the chin of his locket had caught the arrow just enough so it wouldn't fully enter his throat. It was that small amount of extra resistance that saved his life. But he was still pierced in just the right way. The woman held his hand and told him he would probably never speak clearly again. 

These words didn't sink in until they weaned him off the morphling two weeks later. Then it came to him all at once like a crushing wave.

Jameson Jackson would never speak again. 

Jameson Jackson… would never sing again.

He followed the doctor's orders and did not even so much as hum. They gave him a wheelchair that his mentor used to push him onto the stage to meet Lucky Flickerman again. The show host obviously carried the conversation after a joke about him being quieter than an avox as they went over the two hour highlight reel of the games. 

The world around Jameson was completely gray. Eyes not able to focus on anything as everyone's words sounded like his head was completely underwater.

He felt hollowed out, like an empty puppet getting moved across a stage without any of the strings in his own hands.

At some point, Jameson registered that he was finally home, back in District 7, but it wasn't his original house. No, they carted him directly to one of the houses in the Victor's Village where his Aunt Marry had already begun moving some of their belongings into it.

For a long time Jameson just stayed curled up on the couch. Staring off into space or gazing into the fire with a heavy pile of blankets over him. He vaguely understood when people came to see him, but none of the pairs of legs or blurred faces registered in his brain. The gentle fingers that ran through his hair were unfamiliar as they lulled him into fitful nights of sleep.

He didn't really know when he came back to himself. But one day, Jameson found himself sitting in front of the fireplace as it was burning low with glowing embers and.. wood shavings?

Jameson looked down, confused, at his hands and was surprised to find a whittling knife in one and a piece of wood in the other. The wood didn't have a defined shape, not really. He slowly turned it in his hands trying to decipher what it was he was making with curiosity. It looked vaguely like an oval. All the corners and edges were rounded, but nothing else remarkable aside from the texture. 

Looking down at himself again, he found his lap full of wood shavings, some shifted as he lifted his arms in mild bewilderment. There was way more than what should have accounted for the wood piece currently in his hand.

He blinked, unsure how he got here, but tentatively resumed adding to the pile. The glide of the small sharp knife steadying his mind.

Some of the wood shavings flew off into the fire as he worked and Jameson realized that's probably why he was sat here. To get as many pieces as he could into the fire and then mostly likely sweep the rest in afterwards.

But he didn't remember where he got these things. He didn't remember moving from the couch. How long had be been sat here?

Upon registering that he did, in fact, have a body, his leg screamed. 

Jameson tried to scream too, but it came out sounding horrible. Choked off and gnarled and like it's still full of pine smoke. Jameson dropped his tool and gripped his leg tight, trying desperately to stop the shooting pain that traveled from his knee to his ankle and all the way back up to his hip and spine. Every movement felt like knives in his bones as hot tears rolled down his face as he let out strangled sobs. 

This seemed to alert someone nearby because Aunt Marry quickly came around the doorway, completely in shock. But it passed as she rushed to him with someone Jameson couldn't see behind her in tow.

When they got Jameson back to the couch and brushed off most of the wood shavings, they carefully helped to prop his leg up on a stool. He kept his eyes screwed shut as the waves of pain rolled through him. A hand found his own and he squeezed. 

A minute later when the pain finally subsided, Jameson opened his eyes to see tanned hands holding out a small plate of food and a cup of water. He takes the cup and plate in shaky hands as he finally looked to his Aunt beside him, and up at the girl before him. 

Maria. His Maple. She was here and smiling down at Jameson with barely contained joy.

“Map-” He tried to say, but his throat felt like it caught fire again, sending him into a coughing fit. He felt soothing hands on his back and heard Marry gently encourage him to drink the water. 

He did and it's the most refreshing cup of water he has ever had in his life- downing the rest of the cup quickly. 

Maria pulls one of the plush chairs over and sits in front of Jameson as his aunt sits close at his side, an arm wrapped around his shoulders protectively. 

Maria begins to sign, “I… We thought you were gone for good, Jamie.” 

It takes a second for Jameson's brain to click back into place to remember how to sign, but tentatively he does so back, “I think I was. For a little while.” 

Maria's honey brown eyes sparkled with tears, “But you're back. You're home.” 

For the first time, it actually hit him.

Jameson Jackson had won the Hunger Games. 

He had won and now he was home again. Home with his aunt and his best friend and his District. He felt a lump form in his throat trying not to cry. He just opened his arms out to Maria.

She didn't hesitate as she threw herself from the chair into his arms, both of them clinging to each other like either of them would disappear if they let go. Aunt Marry wrapped her arms around both of them and they sat quietly like that for a very long time, bodies shaking from time to time with tears of relief.

°○°○°○°

The flashbacks had become part of Jameson's new normal. Alongside with his leg occasionally giving out from under him and needing a cane to walk, and almost exclusively using sign language to communicate, the flashbacks and nightmares have become part of his routine. 

He does pick up the lumberjack's woodpecker code for easier translation around town- tapping out small phrases against his cane fashioned from an off cut oak branch- but he doesn't get much of a chance to use it when something reminds him of the games. A sound of breaking bone from the butcher, a particular cackling laugh, the first cold wind of winter- his mind slipped back into the arena. 

Most often it just makes Jameson freeze, mind drifting off and becoming unresponsive. But on more than one occasion now, Jameson has snapped back into himself when a large pair of peacekeeper arms hoisted him into the air. He quickly took stock and realized he attacked another person in the middle of the square. The people around him looked a mixture of angry and terrified.

Another part of his new normal, for obvious reasons, was the people of District 7 began to avoid Jameson. Either from politeness, a fear of awkward conversation, wariness due to his actions outside the games, or even to avoid their own sadness of never hearing him sing again. It didn't matter.

They kept their distance. And in turn so did Jameson. 

He would only leave his house to purchase food or more off cuts of timber, then go back to his house as quickly as his leg would allow. No friendly waves. No lingering. No small talk. Keeping everyone at arm's length so he wouldn't reach for them when his mind replaced their faces with the boy's who killed Tim.

°○°○°○°

The Victor's Village was left mostly untouched for a long time in 7, having only been built a handful of years ago along with Snow's changes of the entire proceedings of how the games were conducted. 

The houses were a bit gaudy in Jameson's opinion. Though, he did enjoy the extra privacy being separated from the rest of the District gave. But he knew Aunt Marry wasn't as thrilled about it.

Before going on his Victory Tour, Aunt Marry told Jameson that she had decided to move back into their old home over their small general goods store. Jameson tried not to take it personally, he knew Marry's knees weren't like they used to be and the shop was on the opposite side of town. He told her it was alright and pulled his childhood wagon that carried her things.

The camera crew came a week before he was set to board the train, and Jameson gave them a tour of his new home. Showing off a small collection of the creations he has whittled since being home again. 

It was a new thing the Capital was trying along with many other ideas. The victor of the Quarter Quell, a girl named Marvin from District 4, was so fascinating to the citizens of the Capital that they wanted to see more of her after her victory. So they sent a crew to her home and interviewed her. She showed off the hobby she picked up to spend her free time and the people adored it. Marvin's pastime was tying overly intricate, decorative nets- weaving beads and crystals and colorful pieces of coral into some. So because of this popular concept,  Jameson was advised to do something similar to show to the people of Panem on television what the heck he's been up to. Minus the nightmares, the flashbacks, the crippling anxiety, and the chronic pain he now dealt with.

So he stuck with wood carving.

He whittled a myriad of things by that point. Mostly animals he would see running around their forests. Figurines of squirrels, birds, little bears. He also tried creating more complicated things. Spinning tops, perfectly smooth spheres, pipes. And… dolls. 

The camera crew actually flinched when Jameson first pulled them out.

Little dolls with linked-together limbs, they could be moved about by strings from above. Jameson had made a little under a dozen wooden marionettes that were carefully carved and painted to resemble tributes from his games. 

The girl from District Two who shot him. The little boy from District Ten he killed with the trap. The three careers that were killed by the snow beast mutt. The two larger tributes up on the mountain that killed Tim. Tamery and Tim. And finally, one of himself. That one wasn't as carefully made as the others, Jameson's stylist pointed out, “I think the leg on this one is broken. And there's some kind of scratch here on the neck.” Jameson pretended not to hear the comment.

“I plan to carve all the other tributes,” Aunt Marry translated Jameson's sign for the cameras when they started rolling. “I may not have interacted with many of them personally, but it's my way of trying to honor their memory.” That collected a round of heart-warmed coos from the crew, despite their obvious discomfort of how creepy the whole hobby seemed to them. 

“The faces freak me out, JJ!” One of the members of his prep team had cried when he first saw them, “They almost look dead!”

“They are.” He signed and Marry translated uneasily.

They stopped making comments about the puppets after that and tried to wrap up filming quickly. Good. He wanted them all out of his house.

Yes, Jameson did want to honor the fallen in some way of his own. But in reality, this strange hobby was one of the only ways for him to stop seeing the dead in his nightmares. 

He would lock himself away in the attic of the house and spend days, sometimes even weeks on a single marionette. Carving and painting away in hopes that the subject's ghost would stop haunting him in his dreams. But they would always come back eventually. 

The completion of each project gave ease for a few days, not showing up in Jamesons dreams at all. But a new face would take their place. The previous ghost would come back occasionally, but they were no longer screaming.

Each stroke of the knife dug the tribute out from a prison of wood, revealing their features so they were no longer trapped in an awful, dark place. The only time his hands didn't tremble was when he painted them. 

°○°○°○°

Returning from the Victory Tour around the entire country, Jameson was exhausted. 

Smiling for the cameras and standing in the center of the stage signing to the families of the fallen tributes. He didn't try to say anything other than what was written on the cards. Jameson found out quickly when trying to say more to the parents of Tim and Tamery in District 8, that his Capital escort did not actually know sign language, so she was completely lost as a “translator” if he went off script. He tried not to be too upset, it wasn't her fault, but he felt completely silenced by the restraints. There were so many apologies and pleads for forgiveness that the lone standing parents would never get to hear. Jameson just prayed that they could see all the anguish in his eyes and hoped it would be enough. I would never be enough.

The only positive thing out of the entire trip was that he got to meet a handful of the Victors from previous games. 

Marvin from District 4, and Henrik from District 3 connected with Jameson quickly and he really liked them. He made pleasant conversation with them once he had acquired a small notepad and pen. 

Marvin was clever and playful in that almost sharp cat-like way. She laughed easily and was liberal with any shreds of gossip she heard from her time in the Capital. Jameson was surprised somebody so vicious and cold in the arena could act like this afterwards. But then again, he knew all too well how strong certain masks could be.

She put Jameson at ease immediately when she glared daggers at the host behind the camera. The young hotshot made a joke about Jameson needing to speak up, and if they weren't being broadcast live, Jameson was sure Marvin would have ripped the host's throat out for good measure. She gave him a hug and told him to write and not be a stranger. Jameson hugged back tightly and promised he would try.

Jameson was genuinely surprised that Henrik was the last Victor in the original arena based in the Capital. A broken down gladiator-inspired theater that once upon a time hosted events like the circus. But was transformed into the death ring it was inspired by originally to host the Hunger Games. Henrik lived in terrible conditions before the games even began and it was remarkable that he didn't die from exposure or infection before entering the arena. 

President Snow changed the proceedings of everything for the 25th Hunger Games. Henrik, for better or for worse, had just missed the change in management.

He was still lanky and thin, but not quite the sickly skeleton he was when he stepped in the ring. Henrik was very intelligent and curious, asking Jameson almost endless questions about sign language and how he learned it.

Jameson decided he liked Henrik when he started taking notes on his palm for an idea, “I lost hearing in my right ear during my games.” Henrik explained, “Learning sign language could prove to be very helpful. Though not many know it in Three… I think I might have an idea.” 

Jameson really did try to follow along with Henrik's techno-babble, but the drinks had started getting to him by that point so he just listened to the soothing tones of his voice without much comprehension.

Jameson wished he could have spoken more privately to both of them, about their experiences in the games and how they try to cope with it all. But the cameras never left his back on the tour, so neither did Jameson's pleasant mask.

He entered the attic almost as soon as he returned home, planning to lose himself into a new project before the ghosts could even try to find him. Stepping inside his now familiar space, his small haven, he stopped in his tracks.

By his work desk, surrounded by piles of wood shavings he never bothered to sweep up, stood Maria. Her frizzy golden hair acted as a halo against the gray snowy backdrop of the window. In her hands she held one of the wooden dolls Jameson had started making before leaving for the tour. 

She turned, revealing to Jameson what he already knew, and his cheeks burned with shame. It was the beginnings of a carving of Maria.

Maria ever so gently set the wooden version of herself back onto the work table, supporting the head as if it were an infant, and turned to fully face Jameson, “Do you see me as dead too, Jamie?” She signed, face trying not to twist in hurt but failing.

“It's not like that, Maple,” Jameson signed back quickly. The only sound in the room was the winter breeze trying to push its claws into the cracks of the house. He repressed a shiver and pushed forward, “I don't make these just for the dead. I make them because I don't want to-” 

“What? Not to lose me?” She snapped, knowing Jameson too well, “Jamie- you're the one who is pushing away from you! Your friends at the paper mill have only seen your face a handful of times since you've come home!” 

“They don't look at me the same anymore! They treat me differently.” He tried to reason.

“Because you can't be their personal radio anymore?” She rolled her eyes with a bitter laugh.

“Because I've killed people, Maple!”

Jameson and Maria had fought only a small handful of times before. Words choked Jameson's throat when he was upset, so they both signed in rapid fire at each other. He remembers once Maria's father had broken them up by saying “Stop yelling!” And it made them all burst into giggles. But in the attic space, they were alone.

Jameson frowned deeply, “I killed innocent people! Children! It doesn't matter that it was the games, I still have their blood on my hands and it can never be washed clean. And since I can't tell anybody what actually happened in my own words, they see me as a murderer. I can't tell them! They think I'm a monster so now they treat me like I'm- Like I am a-”

“A freak?” Maria finished for him, a scowl deep in her features.

Jameson flinched, immediately realizing what he said and his anger flowing out of him in an instant, “Maple-” 

“You think they see you as a freak because you can't speak anymore?” She scoffed, “Jamie, they see you differently because you are different now. When you came home from the games you were catatonic for days! Barely able to move or show you were still alive in your brain! When you did start moving around, all you did was carve. Not even making anything, you just shaved blocks of wood into kindling. And when you did finally wake up you started avoiding everybody like they were going to stab you in the back!” 

“Can you blame me for that?!” 

“No! I understand that! But I do blame you for pushing us all away when all we want to do is help you, Jamie! You have barely spoken to me at all since you've come back!”

“Not like I can speak anymore!”

Maria laughed, bitter and a hint of self-deprecating, “I wonder what that's like!”

Jameson growled in his chest, he didn't care that it burned, “I don't want to hurt you! I've attacked people!”

“You can't control-”

“I don't want to hurt others-”

“I don't want you to hurt yourself!” Maria hiccuped, roughly scrubbing her eyes with the back of her hand and glaring at Jameson, eyes damp but not allowing tears to fall. 

They stand in the silence. A cold draft danced by Jameson and he instinctively wrapped his arms around himself with a harsh shiver. He hated the cold now. When the first snow of the year came he rarely left the warmth of the fireplace for anything. The first draft he felt sent him into a panic attack. 

Maria sniffed loudly, signing slower, “You don't take care of yourself when you lock yourself away up here.” She looked around the room, it was still somewhat empty, but a shelf held a collection of small statues, and the marionettes of the fallen tributes hung from the rafters. “You ignore me when I knock and throw pebbles at your window, and you don't eat the food Aunt Marry brings you. You… You disappear, Jamie. And it scares us so badly. We think that you won't come back again every time.” 

Jameson was stunned. He didn't realize he got so engrossed in his work. He looked to his side and seemingly for the first time, noticed a small stack of plates next to the door, untouched. He looked back to Maria and didn't know what to say. His hands fluttered, stumbling over his words and unsure how to respond. 

“Let me stay.” Maria said suddenly.

Jameson was completely bewildered, “What? Why?”

“So you don't have to be alone anymore. So someone can be there to take care of you.”

“No I don't-”

“Why?” She asked quickly, “Why do you so badly want to push me away, Jamie?”

“I don't want to hurt you!”

“You could never hurt me, you're so kind and gentle-”

“I hurt Aunt Marry!” He burst out and that made Maria stop. Jameson took a slow breath, not meeting her eyes for a moment in complete shame. Once he gained the courage again, he looked her in the eye, “Once when I was…” He laughed bitterly, “Gone. She tried to bring me back by touching my shoulder. I must have been back in the arena because I lashed out at her. I wasn't in control of myself, I didn't know what was really happening.” Jameson took a deep breath, “But I hurt her… and if you stay, I could hurt you too. I could kill you, Maple.”

Maria closed her eyes, hiccuping again before wiping her cheeks of the tears that managed to escape. 

He tried to step forward, tried to go comfort her, but his leg screamed, sending daggers from his knee outward. He didn't have his cane so he reluctantly froze in place, putting his body weight onto his other leg with a hiss.

When she opened her again, she looked at Jameson with a hardness of finality that sent an icicle through his heart. He immediately regretted his words and wanted nothing more than to take them all back.

“Maple, wait-” He reached for her.

“I can't do this.” She started to walk towards him, moving to the door behind him. “I'm not standing by and watching as you push me away. I-” Maria shakes her head and throws her hands down in frustration, trying to shove past Jameson but he catches her in his arms.

Maria struggled for a moment before they both lock eyes. Maria's honey brown steady and wet, and Jameson's pale blue desperately searching for… what? A sign that she was joking? No, it was obvious that she was very serious about not wanting to stand by and watch him destroy himself. Perhaps he was looking for a second chance? Again, nothing. Jameson's shoulders slowly slumped in defeat as he forced his eyes not to water.

Maria scanned his face and sighed, standing slightly on her toes to kiss his cheek so lightly he almost didn't feel the whisper of her lips, “Goodbye, Jamie.” And she stepped back slowly, Jameson released his grip, and she left.

Just like that she was gone. Jameson stood still, frozen in time until he heard the front door open and close downstairs. He tried to tell himself that this was for the best for the best, that Maria would be safer and happier away from him. 

His resolve crumbled as another draft of cold wind swept through the room, cutting through to his bones. He finally let his leg give out and he crashed to the floor on his hands and knees. When the pain stabbed him again he rolled onto his side on the floor and hugged his knees to his chest. He tried in vain to curl so tightly into a ball that he would completely disappear. Fold in on himself enough times he would become a speck of dust and fly far, far away from here. But he didn't turn into a speck of insignificant dust. He laid curled on the floor, ignored the splinters from the stray wood shavings, and screamed.

It took over three weeks for him to finish the doll of Maria.

°○°○°○°

As the years go on, Jameson is expected to be the mentor for the tributes of the reaped District 7 children. Every year he sternly told himself to not get attached or grow actual bonds with any of these children. It would be harder to let them go if he let them find places in his heart. He never followed his own instructions. Because for the next 5 years, he watched over, cared for, and witnessed the death of 10 children from his district. Every time the canon fired for one of his own, it shattered his heart like the arrow shattered his knee. Even though he knew that he did everything he could by treating these children with kindness and encouragement and empathy, it felt as crushing as Tim's death each and every time.

He had marionettes of them all, alongside several others now.

Capital people that taunted and gawked at Jameson like he was an animal at the zoo, filler for his nightmares, they looked more like actual colorful puppets with their ribbons and feathers. You would think that they weren't real people at first glance, with all of their bright colors and painted faces. But they were. And they were discarded into a corner of the room when he was finished. It felt satisfying in a way, throwing them aside like they did to him when his novelty ran out.

Among the colorful cabinet of Capitals, there was also one marionette that was made to look like the young President Snow. A small silk flower acted as the signature rose on his lapel, and Jameson had added the detail of painting the president's hands red. He thought about Tim telling him about the red dye and how it stained his skin to look like blood. Jameson added some gloss to the red on Snow's hands to sell the effect better.

This one, this likeness to the president of Panem, had its strings knotted beyond hope of untangling and wrapped tightly around the puppet's throat. It was thrown harshly into a dark corner of Jameson's workshop, broken and almost buried in the wood shavings that carpeted the attic space up to Jameson's ankles now in certain piles.

This year, like all the others, Jameson put on his clean shirt and favorite blue vest. Carefully doing up the buttons with clever hands and adjusting his simple black bowtie snugly around his throat to hide the scar. He trimmed his mustache and brushed away the remaining wood shavings off his black slacks. Grabbed his cane, and made his cryptid-sighting appearance on the stage. 

His knee always ached worse on Reaping day, but he tried to stand and smile at the blurry faces of his District. He forced himself not to search for Maria in the crowd, again, as he took his seat and waited as the tribute's names were drawn. He forced his hand to not grip and wrinkle his pants against his bad leg.

Ivy Cinders, and Chase Brody. This year's District 7 tributes for the 32nd Hunger Games. And Jameson's new wards.

Seeing the young woman in the crowd, who was obviously pregnant, crying her eyes out for the boy on the stage made Jameson's heart twist in a strange way. And he knew right then and there that he would be breaking his own rule to not get attached for the sixth year in a row.

[tilly-tilly-2827]

Leave it by Degrees #6

The unhinged love story loosely based on Shakespeare's Love's Labour's Lost that I can't get out of my head.

Synopsis: "What have we done?"

Post in AO3 from here!

Previous chapter from here

Benedict was at the entrance of Out of The Blue at 19:00 sharp. Being led by a six seat table in the terrace, he had to chuckle seeing Sophie Beckett wearing the same navy suit with a white collar shirt, while the other ladies sat next to her were respectfully in their holidays attires; one in a teal colored summer dress, the other in a pink floral A-line.The restaurant was placed at the end of the island, on one of the seaside Villas, and Benedict silently observed the three musketeers from a distance; the two girls were absolutely dazed by the sunset before them, while the other seemed to be completely focused on the small bucket of breadsticks before them. Somehow Benedict couldn’t take his eyes off the girl who sat at the edge of the table, her short brown curls waving in the ocean breeze, the sunset giving her a radiant gleam. The absolute fascination, joy, and wonder on her face ticked something inside him, as if a certain gear had been reattached to their place in his anatomy. 

“I love that you are more invested in the scenery than me, Ms. Beckett.”  He grinned as he slid into the seat in front of her. Her moss green eyes hardened as her gaze met his, Benedict felt a lump in his throat. Didn’t she want him, like she whispered last night? That she needed him?  Quite honestly, her heated gaze last night was the only thing that he decided to join the dinner, to perhaps grab her offer when she was not, well, heavily drugged. Well, maybe not just her gaze, Benedict secretly thought to himself as he again sized her up over her suit of armor. Yes.Perfect. 

“Mr. Bridgerton.” Sophie gave a brief nod, “Thank you for coming. This is Posy Reiling, she would be negotiating the deal…”

Posy gave a little cough. 

“…This is my step sister. Posy.” 

“Nice to meet you, thank you so much for saving my sister.” Posy smiled sweetly, “Please, call me Posy.” 

“Posy, nice to meet you…”

But just as he was about to shake his hand, there was a huge crashing sound from the back, followed by a small yelp. Benedict was quite surprised to see Hugh Woodson collapsed on the wooden floor, papers and papers of Emails dancing around the air, his laptop screen miserably cracked in two. 

“Hugh, are you all right?”

Benedict hurried from his seat, reaching out to help him, but he was a second late. Hugh was already taking Posy’s hand, with a dreamlike daze in his eyes he had never seen before. 

“Are you hurt?” Posy peered into Hugh’s brown eyes, her neck craning up to match his lean figure, “I’m terribly sorry about your laptop.”

“I, I…I’m…Huu, Hu…”

“Hugh.” Posy smiled sweetly, shaking his shivering hand. “I’m Posy.”

The whole universe stopped for just a second, the orange sunset shining from the distance between them. As if everything was in slow motion, Benedict watched Hugh’s pale face turn into the same shade as the sky before them. 

“P, Posy.” He stuttered, “My sister loves Posies. We, we have a patch in our gardens,” Hugh was still shaking Posy’s hand, his glasses almost slipping out from the bridge of his nose . “The, the most beautiful flower in the universe, in my opinion…”

The three watched in awe as Posy’s cheeks turned into a deep shade of crimson, and Hugh wrapped both of his hands into hers.

“Y, you are the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.” 

“Thank you, Hugh.” 

“I, I, I…I fell for you.” 

“You fell for me?”

“I think I’m falling in love with you.”

Both Sophie and Benedict snorted sparkling water out from her nostrils. Kate casually took a bite of a breadstick, almost as if she were watching a rom-com on a Friday night. 

“Was it just me or did I just hear a love declaration?”

Benedict sputtered, not quite processing the scene that laid before him, and by the flabbergasted look from Sophie, he knew she had the exact same reaction. 

“I’m afraid I heard it too.”

Hugh, still grasping Posy’s hand into his, fell into one knee, his usually wandering eyes looking straight into Posy’s blue ones, with fervent passion Benedict had never seen on him. 

“I am in love with you.”

“Oh,” 

“Wow.” 

“Damn”

“Posy, will you marry me?”

“Should I stop him?”

“Oh, yes, please.”

Benedict quickly peeled Hugh from the floor (“But I haven’t got her answer!” He cried out. “But Hugh, you don’t even know her full name!”), also picking up the papers on the floor. Sophie quickly joined him, but when the two raised their heads, the couple was already seated at the table shoulder to shoulder, happily giggling over a cup of lemonade. Barely five minutes have passed but they were already like a couple on the honeymoon faze. 

“Well, that was quick.” 

“I know.” Sophie softly said. “But it was quite beautiful, wasn’t it?”

“Yes.” Benedict smiled, taking a stack of paper from Sophie’s hands. “It’s not everyday you get to see people fall in love,”

“Just like a movie,”

“So, you wish for romance as well, Ms. Beckett?”

“Well, that’s a rather private question don’t you think?” Sophie eyed him wearily but Benedict didn’t miss her ears turning slightly red. 

“Worth a try,” He quipped with a small wink, “Do you think your step sister said yes to Hughs proposal?”

“Oh I literally have no idea.”

“So Hugh. Are we hearing wedding bells tonight?”

Hugh completely ignored Benedict’s question, his chocolate eyes entirely focused on Posy and Posy only. 

“We are starting from friends, actually,” Posy replied, but her eyes never left Hugh, dripping with the same dreamily look. “But Hugh was telling me about the beautiful cathedral nearby, and the one built over the sea…”  

Sophie slid into the seat next to Kate, flinching slightly as Benedict casually seated himself next to her. 

“I was rather hoping that you would sit on the other side.” Sophie said hesitantly. 

“Wouldn’t want to disturb the two loves birds, would you?” 

“Well, yes, but if you’re not going to…” Sophie's words trailed off, noticing that there was still an empty seat. “Mr. Bridgerton, I’m wondering,”

“He’ll be here in a few minutes,” Benedict replied gallantly, looking at the watch, “I think he’s just finished his third rotation of meditation.”

Kate choked on her glass of wine. 

“Excuse me,” Kate coughed, “Went the wrong way. So the rumor is true. The Great Anthony Bridgerton truly on a cleanse?”

“Whistledown does it again,” Benedict replied sarcastically. “I can’t figure out why she’s so obsessed with us.”

“I personally think she’s more besotted with Colin Bridgerton,” Benedict was surprised to see Sophie with a playful smile on her lips. “She seems to know every location your brother is at, now matter how far corner of the world he could be.”

“You are quite an observer, Ms. Beckett.”

Sophie blushed for the first time that night, not being able to quite look back into Benedict's eyes. 

“This one is actually obsessed with Whistledown.” Kate quipped from her seat with a teasing grin. 

“Katie!”

“Actually, Sophie clips all the photos of you from Whistledown, Mr. Bridgerton.” 

“Posy!” 

“That’s a pleasant surprise.” Benedict couldn’t suppress a smirk, seeing Sophie’s face change deeper and deeper into a shade of crimson. Yes, he knew that she liked him, “What part of me intrigues your attention, Ms. Beckett?”

“It’s work related,” Sophie mumbled, slightly squirming in her seat. “Nothing personal.” 

“Oh, then do you clip every photo of my dear brothers? For research purposes?”

“Well, no, but…”

“Then I am flattered,” Benedict tried to snake his right hand to her waist, inching closer to Sophie, “Anything it was about me, what caught your attention is a good thing, I believe…” But he gave a miserable yelp, feeling a sharp pain on the back of his hand. 

“Hands off, Bridgerton.”

A pair of sharp brown eyes were glaring at Benedict, eyeing him suspiciously behind Sophie’s shoulders. 

“I believe we haven’t been introduced.” Benedict managed to croak out despite the striking pain. 

“I believe so,.” Kate smiled elegantly, her hands were delicate despite the enormous strength she demonstrated a few seconds earlier, “Kate. Kathani Sharma. Sophie’s friend from uni. I’m here as her guardian and moral support.”

“Ben. Nice to meet you.” Benedict shook her hand. “Which uni are you two from? My brother and I are from Oxford by the way…”

“YOU.”

Benedict turned his head and saw his brother in his green Khaki pants and a white line shirt, the mixed expression of shock and amusement in his brother’s usually stoic expression. 

“Brother! You missed the beautiful proposal from Woodson…” But Benedict was then interrupted by the last person he had imagined, Kate Sharma. 

“YOU!”

Kate pushed the glass in Sophie’s hands, her posture suddenly became rigid, the corner of the lips tightening. 

Not a good sign, Sophie thought. 

“YOU are Anthony Bridgerton?”

Anthony’s lips turned into a slight grin. 

“You didn’t notice me?”

“Why would I notice you?”

“Well, I am quite famous.” Anthony took a seat next to Hugh, puffing his chests as he seated himself deeply in the chair. Kate scoffed at his words, crossing her arms with a frown. 

“So you’re not only deficient but ignorant as well.” Kate rolled her eyes, “Just as I imagined…”

“Hold it right there. What part of me is exactly deficient…”

“Wait, Katie, you’ve met Anthony Bridgerton before?” 

“He’s the aggravating man I told you this morning!” 

“Ohhhh the guy on the running course? Why didn’t you tell me that guy was Anthony Bridgerton?”

“Why in the hell would I notice him? He was in shorts and sunglasses, he didn’t have the gorgeous sideburns I saw in Whistledown…”

“Oh so you liked my sideburns?” Anthony replied with a smirk. “I’m surprised that those were the only things that caught your mind.” 

“I was being sarcastic, Mr. Bridgerton. Do you need an introduction to dry humor?”

“You didn’t seem so dry this morning actually,.” 

“Brother?” 

“Sophs, remind me to add the word pervert in his wikipedia page,” Kate took a swig of wine from the bottle, (“Katie!” Sophie yelped.) “The world deserves to know that as a fact. And by the way, other than the sideburns, nothing about you was even remotely memorable.” 

“Why don’t we step away from the topic of sideburns?” Benedict smoothly interjected, seeing the color slowly drain from Sophie, “Any preferences on the drinks? The drinks from the bar are exceptionally good…” But Benedict was interrupted yet again by his very brother. Well, his brother would die to have the last word in the argument, he mindlessly thought. 

“Well, I would add infuriating at the top of your characteristic traits but I don’t suppose you even have a wiki page. Wouldn’t want to put useless effort in even searching your name.”

“Oh infuriating would be on top of your resume, Mr. Bridgerton. Seeing how you repeatedly kept going over my pace in the course this morning, I’m shocked those words weren't tattooed on your forehead!”

“YOU were the one overtaking me!” Hearing his irritated tone; Benedict was surprised he didn’t see Anthony jabbing his finger towards Kate Sharma, “You kept interfering with MY pace which I was specifically set at eight kilometers an hour.”

“Is mathematics such a difficult subject for you?” Kate snared, “From where I saw, you were definitely NOT running at eight kilometers an hour. I would barely define it jogging, considering your pace.”

“My apple watch specifically says that I was keeping a stable speed…”

“I thought you were on a digital-free holiday,” Kate raised her eyebrows, “Already breaking your oath, Mr. Bridgerton? Never considered you as a weakling,”

“Katie. Katie Cat.” Sophie tried to tug her back to her seat. “You do realize that you are snapping at the head CEO of Audrey Cooperation…”

“His social standing in society doesn’t mean that he gets the special license to be a total dickhead!” 

“Katie!” Sophie froze in horror, but Benedict had an amused smile on his lips, as if he were enjoying the verbal slander his elder brother was getting. Posy and Hugh were apparently still on the topic of the best wedding cakes. 

“I personally think lemon and raspberries are the best combination,”

“I agree with every word you say, Posy,”

“YOU don’t have any right to call me a dickhead,” 

“Well, I disagree with everything you say,” Kate replied. “I find it difficult to find any other description.” 

“I rather thought of you as delusional,” Anthony snared, “Suddenly walking and suddenly sprinting in the road, don’t tell me that was ordinary behavior…”

“Let me teach you the interval running method, Mr. Bridgerton,”

“I’m already well versed in the area.”

“Then you must know that short bursts of high intensity triggers mechanisms in the body that enhance the burning of the fat, building of the muscle…”

“Improvement in the cardiovascular system, yes I know that.”

“So you do know that by using the interval method your Vo2 max improves two times faster than the regular run,” 

“Speed is no guarantee of efficiency.”

“Well, stability doesn’t exactly bring the thrill does it?” Sipping red wine from her glass, Kate crossed her legs, exposing her glowing legs from the slit of shimmery teal summer dress. and Benedict could swear he heard his brother's sanity shatter into pieces. 

“I…I…I don’t exercise for the thrill.”

“You don’t surprise me, Mr. Bridgerton.” 

“I’d rather focus on endurance, stamina, strength, rather than thrill.”

“Really? I doubt that you can last the first six minutes of my routine, considering the speed you consider as running.”

“You’ll be surprised what I can do in  6 minutes,”

“Um, Brother?”

“Don’t believe you.”

“Katie?”

“Won’t need a minute to make you beg.”

“Brother !."

“Prove it.”

“Kate!”

“Oh, Hugh, I would love to meet you parents tomorrow!” 

“Oh my parents are going to love you Posy, Let me pick you up at the Villa at 11:00, my mother cooks amazing dishes from….”

Sophie took a deep breath, trying to keep herself from yanking all her hair from her scalp. What did she do wrong? Perhaps she shouldn’t have invited Anthony Bridgerton to the table, but she needed him to keep the dinner professional. Perhaps she shouldn't have invited Kate, but she needed her  to keep the air casual…Perhaps this situation was inevitable, her plan was conflicting all along…

“Have you noticed that my dear brother and your Katie Cat are practically eye fucking each other from the other ends of the table, Ms. Beckett?” Benedict whispered into Sophie’s ear, his deep voice sending shivers in her spine, “Bet a pound they’ll be fucking each other in 5 minutes.”

Oh how Sophie wished for a cigarette.

Despite Benedict’s predictions, Anthony and Kate did not fall into intercourse right there on the table as he had expected; rather they went further and further into disagreement. It was rather interesting, Benedict thought as he observed the complete opposite sides of the spectrum; Kate and Anthony practically barking insults at each other from the other ends of the table, while Posy and Hugh whispering endearments, sitting practically glued together in the corner. Despite having seven siblings, Benedict knew that this was the correct definition of Chaos. But thanks to the Chaos, Benedict had managed to lure Sophie Beckett to the bar, who seemed quite shaken by the whole fiasco. 

“Do you mind if I smoke?” Sophie asked him with a guilty look as soon as they reached the stalls. 

“No, not at all.”

“Thank you.” Sophie quickly took out a pack from her pocket, lighting one up in one swift motion. Benedict also took one as she offered him wordlessly, knowing that his brother would be too busy arguing than to notice his violation. But he was surprised how smoothly Sophie offered him a light, expertly lighting him with one settled between her lips with a glass of water in the other. 

“Heavy smoker?”

Sophie smiled weakly between puffs. “Trying to quit.”

“Yet, I never see you without one,” Benedict said teasingly, remembering how he had first seen her with a cigarette between her fingers, “But everytime I see you with one, I always feel it doesn’t suit you.”

“Because I am a woman?”

“No, no, no, no, no.” He almost dropped the ashes between his fingers. “You just give me the impression of…being innocent?” 

Sophie’s gaze averted from his, as she slowly shook her head, with somewhat of a wry smile on her lips. Benedict noticed that she had no further intent to continue the conversation, seeing how she looked out in the dark blue ocean, the surface having a mystic glow in the moonlight, her eyes dimming oceans deep. 

“Sorry about my Brother.” He blurted out, “He’s, um…sexually frustrated.”

“I also have to apologize on the behalf of my friend, especially on her language.” 

“Is she the competitive sort?”

“Very.”

“My brother as well.”

Their eyes met just for a second, both breaking out in a laugh at the same time.

“I still don’t know if we are the worst or the best matchmaker in the entire universe,” Sophie managed to wheeze out between giggles. “Hugh and Posy, yes, but Kate and your brother? I didn’t know if they were going to kiss or shoot each other in the head.”

“Definitely the best, Ms. Beckett.” Benedict laughed, “I could just see the sexual tension between the two sizzling.”

“I know!” Sophie cried out jokingly, “The sexual implications in the conversation was just killing me.” 

As the wave of laughter ceased, Sophie dropped the cigarette on the ashtray, feeling the nicotine in her blood, she finally felt she was ready to talk to one Benedict Bridgerton. 

“I wanted to say thank you, Mr. Bridgerton.” 

“For what?”

“For saving me.” 

“Oh.”

“I didn’t get a chance to say it properly, but you truly saved me from a terrible fate.” Sophie continued, “Thank you. For saving me.”

“No worries. Anyone would have done that if they were in that situation.”

“But you were the only one who noticed.”

Benedict again could return in a grunt. 

“And who stood up to help.”

“I have four sisters,” Benedict mumbled, “Just doing the right thing.”

“Not everyone has the courage to do the right thing, like you did last night.”

“Have we ever met?” Benedict asked abruptly, craning his neck slightly. “Your tone, it's oddly familiar. Do you live in London?”

Sophie’s breath hitched slightly as his piercing blue eyes met hers. “I work in the arts department in the Gunnningworth Foundation,” She managed to croak out. “Perhaps our paths might have crossed in the London gallery somewhere.” 

Benedict only hummed in response, taking another whiff of the smoke. 

“Mr. Bridgerton.” 

“Won’t you call me Benedict?”

“I’d rather keep in professional,”

Benedict groaned, tilting his whole body sideways. “Must we?” 

“Mr. Bridgerton, there is only advantages in this offer,”

“I thought this was a private dinner, Ms. Beckett, away from the foundation or the contract…”

“Wouldn’t you like to be independent from your family?”

Benedict froze, stopping dead in his tracks. 

“You have been working on your projects with the financial funding from the Audrey Cooperation for the past four years, including People Watching, your most celebrated work yet. I do understand that your brother must guarantee you the freedom of your artistic agency, but I can assure you that the Gunningworth foundation will support the same artistic freedom at higher costs.”

“Supporting my freedom?” Benedict sneered; he hated his tone, but Sophie was the one who was crossing the line, bringing up the deal when she promised him privacy, bringing up his deepest insecurities about his work and the family money… “Here you are, invading my privacy on a private holiday. Not the best action to convince me that you would support my creative freedom.”

“This is the extent to show you how the foundation is willing to support you at any costs, Mr. Bridgerton.”Sophie’s voice was quiet, but her words were firm and determined. “The foundation believes that gaining independence from your family funds may broaden your originality even more,” 

“Are you implying that my work lacks originality?”

“No.” Sophie shook her head, a slight panic appearing in her almond eyes, “I was saying that the foundation believes further potential in your works…” 

“You keep saying the Foundation.” Benedict interrupted her monologue, his eyebrows narrowed in irritation. “The foundation believes, The foundation believes…you sound like you are convincing yourself, not me.”

Sophie’s lips were curled into a straight line, biting the other bottom part of her lip. 

“Do you even like my work, Ms. Beckett?” Benedict hated the desperation in his voice, hated the fact that Sophie wasn’t answering his inquires, “You only seemed to be focused on pleasing the foundation of yours,”

“Pall Mall.”

“Pardon?”

“Pall Mall.” Sophie continued, repeating the words almost like a prayer. “Finished in the summer of 2013. Watercolor and pencil on paper. Size 31.0×43.2. Inspired by your childhood memories, the summer you spent in the countryside of Kent. The intricate details of each expression of your families. The soft pastel colors bring out the nostalgic air.”

“Ms. Beckett,”

“The Portrait of a Young Man,” Sophie closed her eyes, trying to picture it in her mind. “Completed in the spring of 2014. Winning your first Wells Art Contemporary. Oil on Canvas. Thick coating method, using the palette knife. The gray background, the dark suit almost drawn almost like a rough sketch…but the details on the face was magnificent. The right side of his eyebrows, the highlight under his eyes, each stroke of your brush creating a beautiful shade, bringing out the specific details of your brother’s expression. The absolute focus on the coloration. Now that I’ve met him in person, I can see how you managed to capture his entire aura. Size 64.1×52.8. ” 

“Sophie,”

“People Watching,” Now, Sophie couldn’t stop the words slipping out of her mouth, “The eight series of portraits created between the period of January 2015 to April of 2016. Your masterpiece,”

For the first time in years, Benedict blushed, his gaze dropping to his feet. 

“You exaggerate. It was slandered by the critics,”

“To my eyes, it was a masterpiece. You wouldn’t believe how much it saved me…” But she couldn’t quite continue her words, she didn’t know why she was suddenly on the verge of tears. Sophie raised her eyes to the sky, no she was not going to cry in front of Benedict Bridgerton. 

“You like my paintings,” Benedict softly said.

“No.” Sophie shook her head, but she couldn’t look into his eyes. “I love your paintings.”

Benedict found himself quite a loss for words. 

Sophie took a deep breath, trying to inhale every inch of air around her. “It would be the greatest honor for the foundation,” She stopped for a second, starting the sentence again, “It would be the greatest honor for me to have the opportunity to support your future works, Mr. Bridgerton.”

Sophie was finally able to look him in the eyes, his ocean blue eyes meeting with hers. The waves were still swaying, she thought, but she did noticed the change in the wind, 

“Would you like to come to my studio, Ms. Beckett…”

“SOPHIE BECKETT!”

Benedict’s offer was completely silenced by the angry voice of Kate Sharma, who had stomped into the bar with a fierce look on her face. 

“THE MOST ANNOYING MAN I HAVE EVER MET,”

“Kate, what happened? Are you all right?”

“WE ARE LEAVING, SOPHIE BECKETT.”

“Kate, I’m kind in the middle of something here…”

“I refuse to spend another second with that infuriating man,” Kate snared, taking another shot the  bartender had wordlessly offered, “Sophie Beckett, you shall not talk with Anthony Bridgerton ever again.”

Linking Sophie’s arms to hers, Kate Shama marched herself out of the bar and the restaurant, and Benedict could only stand them dumbfounded to the speed Sophie Beckett disappeared from his sight.

Did she convince him through? 

Sophie’s mind kept wandering as she stared at the ceiling, watching the five petal wooden fan move round and round in circles. She wasn’t confident if she had succeeded, but she knew that it worked somehow, seeing the change in Benedict Bridgerton’s eyes. Maybe he’ll sign the contract tomorrow. The sooner she finished the job, the faster she could get away from him, knowing that if she had to spend another hour with him, she would fall in love with him all over again, melting herself into his ardent eyes. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t make the same mistakes.  

Kate had apologized for interrupting the conversation, (“Lost my temper,” Kate admitted weakly) and had gone to a midnight run to cool off her mind. Sophie was too tired to understand what had happened between her and Anthony, but she vaguely understood that it had to do with patriarchy and toxic masculinity. Hearing Posy’s peaceful snores next to her bed, Sophie closed her eyes as well, finally noticing how exasperated she was from the events of that day.  

-6 hours later-

“Kate.”

“Sophie.”

“Remember your oath?”

“Sophs.”

“Kathani..”

“No relationships.”

“Mmm.”

“I did clearly say that.”

“Mmm.” “May I introduce you to the term, situationships…?”

[ravendruid]

Be In My Eyes - Chapter 29

You can read the previous chapters here or on AO3. Happy belated Valentine's day <3 (I promise I didn't plan this!) Summary: Time to dress up for Keyleth's date with Vax.

The week rushed by like rapids, especially when, on Miresen morning, every single one of Keyleth’s teachers reminded their classes that the clock announcing finals had officially begun ticking. One month. Keyleth had one month to prepare for what she assumed would be the worst week of her college life. She could only hope her teachers took pity on the first years. By that evening, Keyleth had a meticulously developed study schedule, color-coded by class, to help her organize her time. Would she be able to keep up with it, though? She had to. The last thing she wanted was to fail a class and have to repeat it next year. She decided to try out the schedule that week, rotating between the library and the quiet apartment and inviting her roommates to study with her—which Vax’ildan almost always gladly accepted. 

The exception happened in the middle of the week. Although the holiday itself wasn’t widely celebrated in Emon, the Night of Ascension was still a holiday for those who celebrated, so the University had given them the day off classes. That day, Keyleth, Percy and Pike decided to occupy a table at their favorite café, staving off the snow that fell outside with steaming cups of hot cocoa. She had asked the twins to join them, but Vax had explained to Keyleth, alone in his bedroom as he bundled up with the hoodie Keyleth loved so much and a thick woolen scarf that had seen better days, that he and Vex’ahlia had a tradition to pay homage to their mother during the holiday, so they would be going to the nearest temple to make an offering, and then go out for a meal and celebrate their memories of Elaina (Vax had finally shared his mother’s name with her). Keyleth pondered asking to join them and do the same for her mother, but she figured that it was something the twins preferred to stay between just them. Besides, neither she nor her mother were particularly given to deities.

But the week rushed by nonetheless, and on Folsen evening, when Keyleth opened the fridge and saw a container with freshly made soup and a sticky note from Vax (I hope this helps you stay warm), the girl was ready to put on a pair of fuzzy socks, her warmest pajama and curl into a ball on the armchair and read until her eyelids drooped. Alas, her dream was interrupted by footsteps walking down the corridor as Keyleth removed the steaming bowl from the microwave.

“Oh. Hi Kiki,” Vax greeted. He was wearing a new long-sleeve pajama shirt (black, as usual), a pair of black sweatpants, and his hair was braided away from his face—it was about time that he heed not only Vex’s but also Keyleth’s advice about braiding his hair before bed.

“Hi, Vax. Thank you for the soup,” Keyleth nodded in gratitude. She sat at the kitchen table and started to eat. Vax joined her, sitting on the chair in front of hers, elbows on the table and resting his chin on his hand.

“How were classes?”

“Exhausting.”

“Are you ready for tomorrow?” Vax asked smugly. Keylth looked at him confused, then remembered they were going out… on a date. “Please don’t tell me you forgot about our date?” Vax asked, outraged, seeing the look of realization on her face.

“No... I—I’m sorry.” Keyleth apologized, embarrassed. Vax merely laughed and shook his head. “Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise.”

“Oh. What should I wear?” Keyleth asked, trying to get any possible clue from him.

“Something comfortable and warm.” The answer didn’t reveal anything substantial.

“What time are we leaving?” Keyleth tried another route.

“Do you think eight is too early?” Keyleth shook her head. She was used to waking up early, even during the weekends, so it wouldn’t make a difference in her schedule. “Then, we need to leave the apartment at 8:30.”

“Why so early?” Keyleth asked, finishing her soup.

“It’s a bit far and we need to take transportation. It’s going to be a whole day thing, so you might want to clear your schedule.”

Somewhere so far away that they needed to take an early transportation, that would last the entire day, and that she needed to bring warm, comfortable clothes? Where the hell was Vax taking her? “Should I bring anything special? Food? Entertainment?” Keyleth pushed further.

“We can make some sandwiches and bring snacks for the day. Water, too. As for entertainment, that’s what I’m there for, right?” Vax winked. Keyleth blushed and giggled, covering her mouth with her hand.

“I’m sure you will,” She teased. Vax slapped the table softly and grabbed her empty bowl. Keyleth got to her feet, wanting to stop him, but he waved his hand at her in dismissal and washed her dishes for her. Keyleth couldn’t stop herself from biting her lip at how caring Vax was to her. He had made her dinner, kept her company while she ate—even though he looked like he had been ready to go to sleep—and washed her dishes afterward. I don’t deserve someone so good like him.

“You should go to sleep,” Vax said to her, wiping his hands on the towel. He approached Keyleth and kissed her forehead before he turned to the hallway leading to the bedrooms. “I’ll see you first thing in the morning, Kiki,” he said and disappeared towards his bedroom. Keyleth stood in the kitchen, watching Vax walk away. Only when his bedroom door shut behind him did Keyleth release the longing sigh she had been holding and grabbed her bag to head to bed. Keyleth thought she was going to have trouble sleeping due to anxiety, so the faster she went to bed, the sooner she would fall asleep. However, Keyleth wasn’t expecting the fluttering of butterflies in her stomach, a sensation that seemed to calm her more than agitate her, so she fell asleep as soon as her head hit her pillow.

—

By the time Keyleth walked into the kitchen the next morning (her personal backpack open in front of her in preparation to get stuffed with snacks), Vax’ildan was already at the stove, stirring eggs and plopping two slices of bread in the toaster. On the island sat an evidently larger backpack—a camping backpack—seemingly full and ready to go. Keyleth stumbled on her feet, coming to an abrupt stop as she gawked at Vax’s bag, then at hers, so small in her hands. She didn’t have time to say anything because Vax was already smiling at her and greeting her. 

“What’s that?” Keyleth asked, all manners forgotten.

“Our stuff for today.”

“That looks—”

“Heavy? Don’t worry. It’s mostly light items. I made a few sandwiches, packed snacks, water and a thermos with peppermint tea.” Vax said nonchalantly, dividing the eggs between two plates. “Don’t worry, I added a lot of honey to the tea,” He added, seeing Keyleth’s stunned face. 

Vax set the plates with scrambled eggs and toast on the table and returned to grab two mugs of coffee. Keyleth finally set her backpack down—now completely useless—and sat at the table. They ate in silence, Keyleth avoiding looking at Vax too much, and then she left him to do the dishes while she returned to her bedroom to finish getting dressed. 

They left the apartment at exactly 8:30—like Vax had planned—after Keyleth replaced her small backpack for her regular knitted crossbody purse with just her personal belongings. Since the sun was shining bright and warm in the clear, blue sky, Keyleth left her thickest jacket behind in exchange for a crochet cardigan with sunflowers covering a beige high-neck shirt and a crochet dark green skirt. She pondered wearing pants for a moment, but then she found a pair of thick winter tights, and her problem of wanting to look cute and fight off the cold was easily solved. Meanwhile, Vax was–well… Vax (still incredibly hot, as usual, nonetheless). He wore his regular black, ripped pants, leather jacket and boots. The only difference was that he had replaced his band and graphic t-shirt for a seemingly brand new plain black high-neck shirt, so tight that Keyleth had held her breath when she first saw him before he put on and buttoned his jacket. 

They took a bus not far from campus, mostly filled with old ladies who gave the pair a weird look—which Keyleth knew was due to her overall sunshine personality, Vax’s dark and broody appearance and the camping backpack he carried—and they sat in the empty back, Vax setting the packed bag between his legs. They stayed in silence for a while, watching the city pass by slowly. People walked on the sidewalks, bundled up in their snow coats and scarves, couples held hands and stopped to watch the shop windows, and children threw balls and built snowmen in the park they passed by, much like what Keyleth and her friends had done a few weeks before, and which, eventually, led to her being in that empty bus, sitting so close to her crush—more than that, actually—that she could practically hear his heart beating in his chest.

“It’s such a nice day,” Keyleth said, more to herself than to him. Vax hummed. His hand found hers on her lap and he took it, intertwining his fingers with hers. Keyleth still looked out the window, now more to try to hide the blush in her cheeks at the gesture. Vax had been so touchy since last weekend… since he shared so much of his life with her. It was like he couldn’t bear to not touch Keyleth, as if her skin on his calmed him. Keyleth wasn’t complaining. She loved every touch, every chill down her spine, every kernel of warmth and softness that emanated from Vax, and she never wanted it to end.

“Is this the part where you kidnap me?” Keyleth asked twenty minutes later when the city landscape outside had given room to large fields and forests. They had officially been out of the city limits for five minutes, and she still didn’t know where Vax was taking her.

“What if it is?” Vax teased, wiggling his eyebrows and smiling mischievously at her.

“Then I regret to inform you that my father will not yield to any ransom requests. Unless you would like a chicken or two in exchange for giving me back.”

Vax snorted and brought her hands to his lips. He kissed each knuckle softly and then said, “I doubt your father wouldn’t give all the money in the world to have you back, Kiki.”

Keyleth wasn’t sure if the heat in her cheeks was because of his gesture of the implication that Vax knew her father loved her so much he would ruin his finances for her.

“Our exit is coming up,” Vax announced, releasing the grasp in her hand and getting to his feet. Keyleth followed him down the aisle, and when the bus stopped in the middle of nowhere, where the only sign of it being a bust stop was a single pole with a hanging sign, Vax gestured for Keyleth to descend before him, following her as he shouldered the backpack. 

“Now I’m really concerned,” Keyleth said, looking around. They were surrounded by tall trees on a single road with practically no traffic. She had no idea where they were in regards to the city proper, but it was clear they were somewhere remote. 

“Do you trust me?” Vax asked, extending his hand to her. Keyleth’s answer was weaving her fingers through his and walking by his side in silence. 

During their short walk parallel to the road the bus had taken, Keyleth glanced sideways at Vax, who looked relaxed and smiled so brightly he could supply enough energy for a small town. His mood was contagious, and soon Keyleth found herself relaxing and smiling as well, walking hand-in-hand with him down the sidewalk and then up a smaller road.

“No way,” Keyleth exclaimed as they reached an ornate iron gate connected to rock pillars. Above it, high enough where a tall van could cross without touching it, was an iron sign that said Emon Botanical Gardens. Keyleth couldn’t hold her joy at the sight of it, and neither could Vax, apparently, because he was shaking with excitement at her reaction, grinning brightly at her, eyes shining like ambers. 

Keyleth squealed in delight as they approached the portico, where a woman waited at the ticket booth. Vax stepped ahead of her and exchanged a few words with the woman that Keyleth couldn’t hear—although, from the look of it, they were familiar with each other—and then signaled her to the barriers that opened on their own accord.

“What?” Keyleth asked, surprised, crossing it behind Vax. 

“Students don’t pay entrance,” Vax explained.

“Do you come here often?” Keyleth asked as he walked towards a large wooden board with the map of the park. She stopped abruptly in front of it, gaping with an open mouth at how large the area was. 

“Vex and I came here often when we needed a break from the chaos of the city,” Vax explained, picking a pamphlet from the holder. “It’s really peaceful. Here,” He handed Keyleth the pamphlet. She opened it to see a smaller-scale map of the park on one side and short descriptions of what the park contained on the other side.

“This park is huge. We’re not going to be able to see it all today,” Keyleth pointed out, noting all the smaller flower gardens, the several ponds and fountains, the orchard and forests of different kinds of trees. “There’s a waterfall?” She asked, not really expecting an answer. “And a butterfly garden!” Her excitement turned up a notch if it was even possible. Keyleth loved butterflies.

“Where would you like to start?” Vax asked, smiling at her. Keyleth pointed at the greenhouse not far from there, and he nodded. He let her lead the way, even though he probably knew the garden so well that he didn’t need a map anymore. 

The greenhouse spawned over a long distance, covering plants from all regions in Exandria, from flowering cacti of the Marquesian deserts to blooming flowers of the Zemni Fields and even a few darker, mysterious flora from the distant lands of Xhorhas. No matter where Keyleth looked, she was welcomed with fragrant scents, a rainbow of colors, and a whole new universe she wanted to explore until the end of her days. She took several minutes to photograph flowers and plants she had never seen before and write notes on the notebook app on her phone, setting up a mental note to return with her camera and a proper notebook. When Keyleth finally uncoiled from where she had been squatting for ten minutes, photographing and copying information from the small description sign next to a bloom of snowdrops, Vax coughed to get her attention. Keyleth’s head snapped in his direction. She had completely forgotten why and who she was there with, so a blush spread on her cheeks as she apologized to Vax bashfully.

“It’s okay. It’s adorable.” He brushed it off, holding out his hand for her to take. Keyleth grabbed it, looking at Vax inquisitively. “Let’s go. I have a surprise,” Vax said, pulling Keyleth with him.

They exited the greenhouse through a side door onto a gravel path. Keyleth’s excitement built up quickly once she saw the first signs pointing in the direction they were going, saying Butterfly House. She found it weird that the butterfly house would be open in the winter since she hadn’t read anything about it in the pamphlet, but maybe it was climate-controlled so they could have viewings year-round. However, Keyleth’s excitement and hope died a little when their path was closed by a barrier, where a note hung from the middle: “We regret to inform the butterfly house is closed until further notice.”

“Vax, what are you doing?” Keyleth asked as Vax transposed the barrier and held out his hand for her. “It’s closed.”

“I know. Trust me,” Vax said. Keyleth followed him down the last of the gravel path and then onto a smaller side path that led to the back of the building. She had no idea where Vax was taking her, but Keyleth trusted him with her life, so she followed as he squeezed her hand tighter in his grip.

“Hello there,” A man greeted the pair when they turned a corner. Keyleth came to an abrupt stop behind Vax, bumping against his back. Shit, we’re screwed, Keyleth thought, knowing they were trespassing.

“Hey!” Vax greeted the man back. He let go of Keyleth’s hand and dropped his backpack on the floor next to the door she realized the man was holding open. Vax then walked towards the man and hugged him tightly. Keyleth finally took a good look at him. He was smiling kindly at them, crow’s feet around his eyes. He seemed to be in his early forties, perhaps, with sun-dappled skin, wild and crazy-looking dark hair, and a black beard streaked with gray, neatly kept in two braids. 

“Is this the lady I’ve been hearing so much about?” The man asked Vax, looking around his shoulder to Keyleth with an even fonder smile. Vax laughed and nodded. He extended his hand to call Keyleth over, wiggling his fingers.

“This is Keyleth,” Vax introduced when she laced her fingers with his. Up close, Keyleth could see the man’s glowing blue eyes and all the signs of someone who had a happy life, even if labored. “Keyleth,” Vax continued, pointing at the man, “This is Kerrek.”

“Kerr is fine,” The man said, extending his hand. Keyleth took it. The handshake was strong but soft at the same time as if Kerrek was holding back on her. His hands were calloused, and there was some dirt under his fingernails, confirming the hard labor Keyleth assumed he did.

“Nice to meet you, Kerr,” Keyleth said politely. Vax had never mentioned him, yet the man seemed to have heard about her. She tucked the information in a mental file to ask Vax later.

“Are you sure it’s okay?” Vax asked, nodding at the building. The man nodded and replied with a wink, “Go ahead lovebirds.”

Keyleth blushed, but Vax chuckled. He looked at her nervously and pulled her inside the building with him, the door closing behind them. The temperature changed immediately, and Keyleth was forced to discard her cardigan with Vax’s leather jacket, leaving them on a bench by the door, and pulled the long sleeves of her shirt up to her elbows. She then followed Vax down a dimly lit hallway to a second door. 

“Ready?” Vax asked her. Keyleth swallowed hard and nodded. 

Keyleth wasn’t sure what she expected, but walking into a brightly lit, hot and humid jungle was not it. The roof was a domed glass that let the bright winter light in without any of the cold, and everywhere Keyleth looked was covered with trees and plants, vines and moss. Once again, she allowed Vax to guide her down the tiled path until they came to a rounded room fully enclosed in class. In the center, a stone bench acted as a barrier to flowers and greenery, and around them—

“Oh. My. Gods.” Keyleth whispered, still not believing what she was seeing.

Butterflies—dozens and dozens of butterflies—flew everywhere, from branch to branch, between flowers and vines, up on the glass ceiling and around the walls. Vax led Keyleth into the middle of the room with a soft hand on the small of her back, stopping by the stone bench. Keyleth spun slowly in place, noting every color, wing shape, and different type of butterfly.

“You might want to close your mouth before a butterfly flies in,” Vax teased. Keyleth snapped her mouth shut but didn’t look at him, still mesmerized by the display.

“Vax, this is—” She stopped herself. A small swarm of five butterflies dove to her and landed on her hair and outstretched arm. Keyleth swallowed a squeal of delight as she turned to face Vax and brought a beautiful blue-winged butterfly between them.

“That’s a morpho peleides,” Vax offered. Keyleth nodded, still awestruck.

“Their wings aren’t actually blue, but—”

“Iridescent, yes. It’s caused by a diffraction of the light from the—”

“Tiny scales on its wings.” Keyleth finished. She looked up at him, surprised that he knew about it.

“I’ve been coming here for a few years. I’ve learned a lot about them,” He explained coyly. Keyleth swallowed, feeling a wave of warmth flow down her body. The butterfly beat its wings and took off to a high branch. Keyleth followed it with her gaze. 

“It’s beautiful,” She whispered, still looking at the emperor on the other side of the room.

“You’re beautiful, Keyleth,” Vax whispered back. She whipped her head back to him, only to realize he was so close to her that their breaths mingled with each other. Vax brought a hand up to cup her cheek and leaned in, making Keyleth’s stomach jump.

Oh gods, is this happening?

“Can I kiss you?” He asked. Yes. Yes! A million times, yes!

“Please—” She practically begged.

Time stopped, or maybe it was Keyleth’s heart that stopped. Something stopped, for sure. Keyleth’s eyes drifted closed, and she surrendered herself to the warmth of Vax’s hand on her face and the firm hold on her waist as his lips touched hers. The kiss started soft and tentative. As if Vax was scared. Keyleth’s hands slid up Vax’s chest to wrap around his neck, pulling him closer. The kiss deepened, full of longing and something else Keyleth’s brain could not decipher in that moment. Some time passed, although Keyleth couldn’t tell if it had been seconds, minutes, or days. But eventually, Vax broke the kiss, his piercing gaze on hers, assessing her. Keyleth smiled against his lips, willing her heart to stop beating so fast. Vax opened his mouth to say something, but Keyleth shushed him before he could utter a word by kissing him again.

Keyleth poured all the intensity of her need for Vax into the kiss. Although she had no idea what she was doing, she had read quite a few romance books, so she pulled all that knowledge off the pages and kissed Vax passionately. When her tongue brushed against his lip, Vax opened to allow her in, the hand on her face lowering to join the other on the small of her back, pulling her harder against him. Keyleth could feel every inch of Vax’s body, her tongue thoroughly exploring his mouth until it met his tongue and started a dance she didn’t know the steps for. Keyleth stopped leading, then, and started following Vax’s experienced instructions. The heat on her body was overpowering, but it was Keyleth’s happiness that screamed the loudest in her ears, together with the thrumming beating of her heart. 

When they finally pulled apart—when Vax pulled apart—they were both panting, eyes wide as saucers fixed on each other, and smiling. Keyleth willed her lungs to work faster and reminded her heart to slow down, lest she pass out from sheer emotion. Her legs were trembling like reeds on a storm, and if it weren’t for Vax’s firm hold on her, Keyleth would surely fall to her knees in front of him.

“That was—” Vax tried, but his breath was still ragged. Keyleth chuckled and nodded, rubbing her nose against his. Their breaths were warm and sweet like a summer night, Vax’s kiss-swollen lips so, so inviting. Tempting. “Gods, Kiki. You’re—” Vax didn’t finish. He leaned his brow against Keyleth with closed eyes and breathed slowly. Keyleth did the same, following his lead once again. He smelled so good and felt so warm and cozy, just like home. “You’re going to be the death of me, Keyleth.”

“I’m sorry,” Keyleth giggled. Vax kissed the tip of her nose. “I’ve wanted to do that for a while,” She confessed.

“Me too.” Vax tugged at the fabric of her shirt on the small of her back, twisting and turning the hem between his fingers. Keyleth gave him a questioning look that made him swallow nervously. Finally, after taking a long breath that puffed against Keyleth’s lips, Vax said, “Kiki, you know I’m in love with you, right?”

Oh. Keyleth’s heart almost leaped out of her chest. It was one thing to feel the love Vax didn’t hide from her, and a completely different thing to hear him say it (like actually say it). Keyleth let her hands slide down from his shoulders and splay on his chest. The jack-rabbit beating of Vax’s heart on Keyleth’s palm made her smile softly as she spoke, “I know. And I–I think I feel the same way.”

“You think?” Vax asked. His tone wasn’t mocking but uncertain. 

“I’m scared,” Keyleth admitted, at last, the feeling she had been trying to repress for a while. “I’ve never felt this way for anyone before and it’s so scary.”

“I know,” Vax replied. His thumbs rubbed tight, reassuring circles on Keyleth’s back.

“My dad was so devastated when my mom died. I—I‘ve never wanted to feel that, or worse… make someone feel like that. I–” Keyleth hesitated. 

“Yes?”

“I never thought I would have what they had. I never thought someone was going to fall for me, or that I would fall for anyone. I promised myself when I was young that I would never fall in love and yet…”

Vax smiled. He rubbed the tip of his nose on Keyleth’s and said, “I understand completely. You know about my father. I don’t have the best examples of what a loving relationship is. I never thought I would ever find happiness in my life, much less something so pure as love. We don’t have to be in a relationship, Kiki, but if you’ll have me, I’m yours.”

“I don’t think I’m ready to be with someone… yet.”

“That’s okay. I’ll wait as long as it takes,” Vax brushed a strand of hair and tucked it behind her ear. Keyleth smiled fondly at him, basking in the feel of his touch, but her smile faltered as she asked him a question she had been dreading.

“And what if I’m never ready?” Knowing that Vax’s answer could mend or break their future was enough to send her spiraling, so Keyleth closed her fists on his shirt, keeping her aloft, keeping her mind steady and grounded.

“Then I’ll always be here as your friend. I’ll only take what you want to give, Kiki. Never more than that.”

“You would stay?” She asked, her voice wavering. 

“Of course. I’m not going anywhere, Keeks.” Vax replied, kissing her forehead. Keyleth slumped into his embrace, sliding her arms under his armpits and holding tightly. She waited for the first signs of the imminent panic attack to retreat down to her stomach and vanish. Only then did she uncoil to her feet, releasing Vax completely, and smiled. 

“Thank you for understanding.”

“You’re very important to me.” Vax pulled away, but instead of completely letting go of Keyleth, he twinned his fingers with hers and asked, “Are you ready to head back into the cold with me?” 

Keyleth nodded and allowed him to pull her with him, retracing their steps to the back door, where they put their jackets back on and Vax slung his bag back on his shoulders. Kerr was still waiting outside, moving crates and boxes when they exited. He turned to Vax and Keyleth with a fond smile, dropped a box on the ground and walked to pat Vax’s back.

“Make sure you and your sister come over for dinner soon, will you? You’re welcome too, Keyleth.” Kerr added, turning to Keyleth. 

“Oh. Thank you for the invitation.”

“I’ll talk to Stubby and let her know,” Vax replied.

“It was nice meeting you, Keyleth.” Kerr extended his hand. Keyleth took it again, shaking it softly with a smile.

“It was nice meeting you too.”

Vax and Keyleth spent the rest of the morning wandering through the multiple flower gardens, fountains and ponds, albeit sad-looking in the middle of the Winter. When the sun reached its apex in the sky, Vax took Keyleth by the hand down a secluded gravel path and into a small clearing of pine trees (the few trees that still had their canopies). Vax removed a thick blanket from the bag, spread it on the floor, and sat down, patting the ground between his legs for Keyleth.

“I should have known you were bringing picnic stuff,” Keyleth said. She sat between Vax’s legs facing him, her legs crossed between them. Vax took another blanket from the bag and set it on her lap, covering both of them.

“You think I would pass up the opportunity to have an outdoor meal with you?” He scoffed. Keyleth didn’t reply. She grabbed the thermos of tea he passed her and took a sip. It was sweet, just the way she loved it, and it warmed her from the inside out. Vax then grabbed two sandwiches and a bag of chips, and they ate while observing the nature and enjoying the quiet. They didn’t run into many people during their walks in the garden, which Keyleth could only assume was due to the cold weather and the fact that most of the plants were dead.

“We should come back in the spring,” She said after a while.

“I already planned on bringing you back.”

“So, what’s the story with Kerr? How do you know him?” Keyleth asked, passing Vax the thermos.

Vax took a sip of the tea, closed the bottle and set it by his side. He then lifted the blanket from his and Keyleth’s legs and gestured for her to turn around. Keyleth did, scooting and resting her back against his chest. Vax covered them again and wrapped his arms around her waist, letting his hands rest on her stomach, where he started rubbing circles with his thumbs. Keyleth basked in his warmth. She could never get enough of the feel of Vax’s arms draped safely around her.

“Do you remember what I told you about what happened with Vex?” He asked her. Keyleth nodded. She knew it was a difficult subject for him. “Well, after all that, Vex and I decided to leave Emon for a while. We found this garden. We lied and told them we were high school students, and they believed us. Mostly because we looked like high schoolers. We found this spot right here, secluded enough that no one could stroll into us, and we made it our place. We had a small tent big enough for us and Trinket.”

“One day, Kerr caught me after the park closed, but instead of calling the cops on us, he extended a helping hand. At first, he invited us to have dinner with him and his wife. Hot homemade meals were hard to come by at the time, and Vex was getting thinner every day, so I said yes. They heard our story, and just like you, they grew angry at our father. But most of all, they felt bad for us and wanted to help us.”

“That’s really nice of them,” Keyleth said. Vax nodded. He buried his cold nose in her neck, making her squeal. 

“They asked us to stay with them until we came of age, but Vex and I… we had been living on our own for a while, and we—we might have been too proud to take such a huge offer. But we did accept a job offer to work here, and we enrolled back at the highschool, using Kerr’s home address as our location. We often went to Kerr’s for warm meals and never refused their invitation to stay on cold and rainy nights.”

“Kerr and his wife treated us like we were their own children. We finally caved in and moved in for our final year of highschool. They even motivated us to go to college and helped us apply for scholarships and everything. Their house is a home to us.”

“I’m glad you found them. I’m glad Kerr didn’t call the cops on you.” Keyleth said, turning her head to see Vax. She nuzzled her nose against his jaw, making Vax smile. 

“I’m glad too. I don’t know if we would still be alive if it weren’t for Kerr.”

“I’m glad you are. It brought you here… to me.” Keyleth whispered and gave Vax a soft peck on the lips. 

“Have I mentioned how beautiful you look today?” Vax nuzzled against Keyleth’s neck. She giggled and nodded in response. “Did you make your skirt?”

“I did. But my grandma made my cardigan.”

“They’re so pretty. You’re both very talented.”

“I’ll make you something one day,” Keyleth promised. 

“Are you cold?” Vax asked, tightening his embrace. 

“No. I’m never cold when I’m with you. You’re always so warm and cozy.”

“Hmm. Same. You’re like a ray of sunshine. You’re so happy and cheerful. It’s contagious sometimes.”

Keyleth thought about his words. People often said she was a ray of sunshine, that she lit up any room when she walked in, but Keyleth didn’t feel that way. She was happy. Keyleth did feel joy in life and enjoyed being around her friends and family. It was the moment she was left alone that Keyleth dreaded the most. When she was by herself with her thoughts, her fears and grief. She had witnessed a few episodes where Vax had preferred to be alone, where his mood was extra broody and grumpy. She understood that better than Vax probably thought.

“Kiki?” Vax called her. Keyleth turned sideways, buried her head in Vax’s chest and grabbed the jacket on his stomach. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No,” Keyleth mumbled against his chest. Vax’s hands cradled the back of her head and he pressed a kiss to her hair. He stayed like that and waited until she finally spoke again. “I’m not as much of a ray of sunshine as people think I am. I also have bad moments—bad days, even.”

“I know. I’ve noticed your moods.” 

“You have?” Keyleth asked, looking up. Vax nodded and caressed her hair down her back. “You must probably think I’m a fraud then.”

“You’re not a fraud, Kiki. Not everyone can be happy all day, every day. I know you try hard to hide the bad side, but you can trust us… you can certainly trust me. I want you to be yourself when you’re with me, even if that means you’re picking at the skin of your nails or chewing on your lip and the inside of your cheek. I won’t be bothered by your jumpy knee or your shuffling around on your seat.”

Oh shit. Vax knew all her fidgets. Was she really that obvious, or was he just very observant? Keyleth always tried to hide her anxiety in front of everyone, and she was almost sure that she did a good job at it, but she had always been more relaxed with Vax. She had always felt safe with him. Of all people, Vax would be the one to understand Keyleth’s faults the best.

As if he read her mind, Vax added, “You and I aren’t that different, Kiki. Depression and anxiety often go hand in hand.”

“I suppose I might have some of yours, too,” Keyleth admitted. It wasn’t for nothing that her father had made her see a professional when she hit puberty.

“And I have some of yours. It’s perfectly valid to have them both, and if someone ever gives you grief about it, tell me, and I’ll punch them.”

Keyleth snorted at the offer. Some of the weight on her chest lifted, but there was something heavy keeping her from being blissfully happy: finals. History proved that academic high-stress situations were not good for Keyleth. “I don’t think you can punch our professors or finals.”

“Ah. Is that what’s eating at you? Here I was, thinking you were freaking out because I’m extremely handsome, and I make your heart almost leap out of your chest.” Keyleth looked at Vax to see him smirking at her. Her face reddened in response. “You’re going to do great, Keeks. You’re smart, talented, and a great student. All our professors love you. If anything, you’re going to do so good that they will need to expand the grading system just to accommodate your knowledge.”

“You’re exaggerating, Vax. I’m not as smart as you or Pike. And I’m falling behind in Anatomy. You’ve seen my midterm grade.”

“Fine, the human body doesn’t agree with you. Does it matter? Are you in Biology for it or for plants, Keyleth? Didn’t you say you were going to drop Anatomy next year anyway?”

“Yes, but I still want to have a good grade,” Keyleth all but pouted at Vax. Couldn’t he understand the high expectations other people had on her? She had always been a top-of-the-class student in high school, and people expected her to maintain that or do better in college, never to go below their standards.

“Keyleth, love. You had a 16 in the midterm,” Vax grabbed her shoulders and looked at her earnestly. “All your assignments have been above 18–and yes, it counts even if I helped you. Even if you have another 16 in your final, you will still get at least a 17 at the end of the semester. I know it’s not as good as an 18 or a 19, but you are still in the top five students in Anatomy, and I know for a fact that you, miss I-will-not-rest-until-I-have-straight-20s, are the best student in your degree.”

When Vax put it like that, Keyleth had to concede to his logic. She knew that she would need a really bad grade on her final to drastically lower her final grade in Anatomy and the general average, as a consequence, but even though it was a low possibility, it wasn’t impossible.

“Fine.” Keyleth pushed Vax away and got up, straightening her skirt. “I guess you’re right.” She said and walked away from him. Keyleth didn’t need to turn her head to see the look of confusion on his face, but she still peeked and threw over her shoulder, “Let’s go see the waterfall… unless you’re done with our date?”

She laughed as Vax scrambled to his feet and packed everything inside the backpack. He was by Keyleth’s side in a matter of seconds, holding her hand and dragging her down the path. Keyleth giggled at his reinvigorated spirits, feeling slightly better herself, too. Vax was right, she knew that, and while she still had a hard time letting go of that particular anxiety, Keyleth knew she had in him a safe harbor. 

“Vax?”

“Yes.” Vax looked at her expectantly, grinning from ear to ear.

“I might barge into your room this month to ask for reassurance. Is that okay?” Keyleth bit at her lip. Vax let go of her hand, only to wrap his arm around her shoulder and pull her to a stop. He leaned in and brushed his lips against hers, giving Keyleth a soft, ghostly peck on the lips that made her want more, and said, “I can’t promise I’ll be decent, but my door will always be unlocked for you, Kiki.”

“Good,” Keyleth whispered against his lips. “I might come to collect some hugs then… even if you’re not–decent.”

The kiss was sensual and unhurried, filled with promises of more kisses to come, hugs to be given, and reassuring words to be whispered in the dark. By the time they arrived back at the apartment, lips red and kiss-swollen, the subject of finals was completely gone from Keyleth’s mind, instead filled with the scent of pine trees and snow and the wonderful time she spent with Vax in nature all day. A much needed-rest before the chaos.