#having said that it did look quite stylish on some of the floor tiles

[thedemon-crowley]

you totally adopted eric. it's such a dad move to have to tell your kid to clean their room.

Point being it’s not his room (he doesn’t have a room) it was my flat, covered in glitter.

Are you familiar with how glitter functions?

[nightjarteeth]

Day 4 of the Midsummer Masquerade: Sensory Deprivation

(thanks to CrinklyTinfoil for helping me write the spicy bits <3)

Word count: 3258

Pairing: Valdemar x Finch

Warnings: lemon, tentacles, sensory deprivation, nudity, no actual penetration

(for those who follow my writing, this fic diverges from this chapter of Vervain, Mugwort, & Other Magiferous Plants. this is in no way necessary reading, though.)

“Would you like to see the dungeons?” Quaestor Valdemar asked inquisitively, touching their fingertips together.

“After all, I’d say you’ve earned it after getting past that lock.” Their words implied that Finch was being treated to a reward, but Finch got the distinct impression that they really just wanted to show Finch whatever horrors were lurking down there.

“Oh, no thank you,” Finch replied a little tersely. “I wouldn’t want to waste any more of your valuable time, after all.”

And more importantly, they were more than eager to leave this dark, damp tunnel the Quaestor had lured them down with the promise of a supposedly “intriguing lock.”

As Finch turned to leave, the Quaestor made a pointed coughing noise.

“Are you quite sure about that? You know, I’ve recently acquired some… let’s say, specialized new equipment I could show you. I’ve been looking for someone to test it out on for a while.”

Finch paused. Specialized equipment…?

Wait a second. Was this related to that Midsummer Masquerade thing?

A few days ago, Finch had found an envelope surreptitiously slipped underneath their guest room in the palace. Inside was an invitation written in stylish scarlet ink — and it appeared to be playfully alluding to its intentions, rather than stating them forthright.

Finch had furrowed their brow as they deciphered what exactly the invitation was getting at. It seemed to be a clandestine event… of a decidedly more adult nature.

“Is this some sort of… sex party?” they’d muttered. They approached their door, cracking it open a notch and peering out in an attempt to see who had slipped it under the door. There was no one there.

Whoever had given them the invite had disappeared abruptly, leaving their identity a mystery.

They glanced down at the parchment again.

“Hmmmm. Nope, won’t be attending whatever that is,” they concluded. Finch would be the first to describe themself as a private person — they weren’t a big fan of parties to begin with, much less sexually-inclined parties. To put it lightly, this Midsummer Masquerade thing wasn’t their cup of tea.

For the last two days, they’d been using the invitation as scrap paper, and had nearly forgotten about the upcoming event.

But now…

Perhaps the Quaestor themself had been invited to the Midsummer Masquerade, and was struck in a mood. And perhaps they also preferred to keep such activities private.

Arriving back from their train of thoughts, Finch looked up again. Valdemar’s red eyes were fixed upon them, interestedly waiting for their answer. Finch felt their face flush a little.

Even though just a minute ago they’d been considering how creepy Valdemar was, with their peculiar mannerisms and open adoration of the plague, Finch found themself reevaluating the physician.

They… weren’t unattractive. Actually, once you got past a few minor details — like how they never seemed to blink, or the strange bandages swathed around their head — Finch had to admit there was a certain elegance to their figure.

And who knew? Maybe some experimentation with some questionable equipment in an underground dungeon could release some of the tension of the last few days.

“I have to admit, I’m… curious about your equipment,” Finch confessed, wincing at the accidental euphemism.

“Oh, wonderful,” Valdemar replied. “I’ve been looking to find someone to test it out on for ages.”

They seized a bar of the iron gate, and it juddered open with a loud creak that echoed along the stone tunnel walls.

“In you go,” they instructed, beckoning Finch to walk inside a small elevator that looked like it could just barely accommodate a single person.

“Can two people really fit in there?” Finch asked, unconvinced.

“Don’t fret your little mind over it,” the Quaestor assured them in a not-very-assuring voice. “It will be a tight squeeze, but I’m absolutely sure you won’t mind.”

Finch entered the elevator, noting that the metal platform beneath their feet shuddered a little as they placed their weight on it. How stable was this thing, exactly?

Valdemar moved in swiftly after them, and their chest pressed in closely alongside Finch’s shoulders. Somehow, when they stepped upon the platform, it didn’t shudder at all.

“See? Very comfortable,” Valdemar said, resting a chilly hand on Finch’s head. “Down we go.”

With no indication of them pulling a lever or pressing a button, the elevator rattled on downwards.

Finch shivered against the coldness of Valdemar’s perfectly-still chest. Were they just imagining things, or… did the Quaestor somehow not have a heartbeat? It didn’t feel as if they were even breathing.

But before they had time to fully evaluate this, the elevator had come to a stop, and the iron gate was opening once more. Outside, there was nothing but pitch darkness.

“Well? Come along,” the Quaestor said, looking back behind at Finch, who was not budging.

“Hmmm, that’s right, you need additional lighting. Well, I wouldn’t want you stumbling on anything — an injury might ruin the integrity of the whole experiment. I’ll be right back.”

Valdemar momentarily left Finch with no light except for the dull red glow of whatever magic powered the elevator. Then, they emerged from the dark with a torch in their hand.

“That’s better, yes? Now follow me,” they instructed.

Now that the torch illuminated the area in soft orange brightness, Finch was able to take a decent look at their surroundings. The dungeon was spacious, looking like a place that formerly held a great deal of activity. Tables and chairs were strewn about, with an empty operating theater set at the dead center of it all.

As Valdemar led them through the room, Finch took note of how many of the tables were equipped with sturdy-looking leather straps. One of them still had polished scalpels and a bonesaw arranged neatly across its surface.

Finch gulped. They had a feeling that whatever “equipment” Quaestor Valdemar had mentioned might be of the BDSM variety… but how much could Finch really handle?

“I’ve been searching for a volunteer for this simply forever,” Valdemar wistfully sighed in the meanwhile. “It would’ve been much easier back in the days of the Red Plague — there was no shortage of potential participants in the dungeons back then… but nowadays finding someone sturdy and willing can be a real challenge.”

That’s a very strange way of saying that you’ve been having trouble finding sex partners lately, Finch thought, but kept quiet.

“When I saw the schematic a fellow scientist invented, I simply couldn’t resist recreating it myself. This will be so much fun.”

The way Valdemar said the word “fun” made Finch’s stomach turn in knots. Either this was going to be a weirdly enjoyable time, or it was going to be the most frightening moment of Finch’s life.

In any case, this was bound to be an intense experience.

Eventually, Valdemar stopped at a stone archway with a dark room beyond its threshold.

“It’s right in here,” they said, shining the torchlight so that it illuminated the room.

Finch peered in. The room was empty, with no visible contraption they could see… and then they glanced down at the floor.

Set into the stone tiles was a circular black pool of water. The orange light of the torch flickered over its mirror-like surface, revealing nothing of its depth.

“Wait, what is that?” Finch asked, a nervous twitch entering their normally stoic expression. This… was not what they had been expecting.

“It’s a sensory deprivation pool,” Valdemar replied, their voice laced with excitement. “And you’re going in it.”

Finch felt at that moment that they would’ve been more comforted if there’d been the table with the scalpels and bonesaw inside the room. At least that would’ve been more aligned with the BDSM situation they’d been previously anticipating.

For the first time, they began to question if this whole invitation really was a sex thing.

“I’m going in there?” they asked, taken aback.

“Oh, yes,” Valdemar answered matter-of-factly.

“Is… there anything in that water that I should know about?” Finch asked next, peering into the opaque surface of the pool. It was all too easy to imagine some deep sea leviathan idling under the surface, waiting for someone to dip their toes in.

“Goodness, no. The water’s far too salty for any extant species to survive living in it. And don’t worry about sinking, either… the primary purpose of all that salt is that it’ll allow you to simply float in the water.”

“Any further questions?” the Quaestor asked, suddenly far too close to Finch’s ear. Finch paused for a moment, trying to think of any excuse to get out of this situation they’d foolishly signed up for.

But before they could even formulate a response, Valdemar had already taken their silence as an answer.

“Good, good. Then you may proceed to disrobe.”

Finch hesitated, wondering if they should wait for the Quaestor to leave the room before stripping their clothes off. Instead, they tilted their head at Finch, red eyes looking directly at them.

“If you’re nervous about disrobing in front of me, you needn’t be. I can assure you that whatever’s under that cloak of yours will not surprise me. Unless, you’d rather I leave you in total darkness to remove your clothing?”

“No, that definitely won’t be necessary,” Finch quickly replied, not fancying the idea of tripping over their clothes in the dark.

They weren’t particularly embarrassed about being nude, but they had to admit that the Quaestor’s unyielding gaze was a little unnerving.

Finch turned away to undress, the dungeon air chilly against their skin. When they were fully naked, they looked back. The whole time they were undressing, Valdemar’s eyes hadn’t moved, their face expressionless and giving nothing away.

Finch couldn’t decide if this was vaguely arousing or downright creepy.

They cautiously clambered down the stone steps leading down into the pool. To their surprise, the water was pleasantly warm to the touch.

“All the way in,” Valdemar instructed. “And then situate yourself so that you’re floating on your back.”

Finch did as they were told, leaning back into the pool and letting their limbs go limp. Just as Valdemar had said, they floated with no difficulty, the water seeming strangely supportive of their weight.

“...now what?” they asked after a moment. Gazing up from their position in the middle of the pool, they glimpsed a razor-sharp grin.

“And now I leave you in the dark,” Valdemar said, and turned away.

“Wait! What exactly is supposed to happen to me in here?” Finch asked, suddenly concerned again.

“That’s the whole experiment,” Valdemar stated. “Examining how the mind reacts when deprived of stimulus… Well, there’s all sorts of delightful possibilities. The schematic suggested that it might induce hallucinations — oh, I do so hope it does induce hallucinations.”

Without another word, Valdemar moved toward the stone archway, and the orange torchlight was extinguished. Finch found themself absolutely alone.

If I died in here, it’s likely that no one would ever find me, they thought. Experimentally, they moved a hand in front of their face. Nothing — their eyes didn’t detect even a hint of movement.

After several more minutes, however, they began to feel their mind calm. The chamber was perfectly silent and still — unlike the rest of the bustling Palace, which Finch was still adjusting to staying in. In the complete dark, it was unexpectedly easy to forget that they were deep underneath the building, trapped in a creepy dungeon.

With the pleasantly warm water beneath their body, Finch noticed the tension in their muscles start to gradually fizzle away. Maybe coming down here wasn’t actually an awful idea, even if this hadn’t been the experience they’d expected.

Just as their body began to truly relax, Finch felt a current of water move underneath them. They braced themself. It’s probably just from whatever mechanism’s warming the pool, they rationalized, trying to keep calm.

Then, something smooth and whip-like brushed against their ankle.

Finch jolted on instinct. They thrashed in the pool, trying to regain their balance, but was thrown off by the sheer buoyancy of the water. Finally, they were able to grasp at the pool’s edge, sputtering and panting raggedly.

There couldn’t be anything living in here, could there? The water was, in fact, too salty — Finch could taste the bitterness of it on their lips.

An idea sprang to mind. Maybe this was one of those hallucinations Valdemar was talking about — one of the results they were hoping for. After a few minutes of no sign of further movement in the water, Finch released their hold on the slippery stone edge.

Slowly, they allowed themselves to drift back out into the center, once more closing their eyes and concentrating on staying calm — a more difficult task now, with their heart pounding in their chest as they floated along the surface.

It had to be just their imagination... but underneath, they felt the water shift again, as though something was rising from the depths.

Finch tensed slightly, taking in a deep breath. Halfway through it, the breath caught in their throat as they felt that soft brush against their ankle once more. They focused more intently this time, trying to ignore it.

Whatever hallucination this was shouldn’t concern them. Hell, this experience might be an opportunity to learn something about themself. What would their mind come up with when left alone in the dark?

There was only one way to find out.

The whip-like appendage slowly began winding around their ankle. Finch shivered, their skin feeling as if it were on fire.

Finch felt their limb pulled, the motion deliberate and almost experimental. Whatever was in the pool with them was behaving in a very intentional manner, ruling the possibility of “sea monster” out of Finch’s mind.

On impulse, Finch opened their eyes, but there was nothing to see but the dark. Briefly, they considered reaching their hand out to try to touch whatever was currently wrapping up their exposed thigh and causing their heart to beat wildly.

For a moment, they stretched out their fingertips, only to release them back into the water. Just hallucinations — that’s what the Quaestor had stated. No point in reaching for something that wasn’t there.

A small gasp escaped Finch as in an abrupt motion, the tendril that gripped their leg began to move upwards, sliding between their legs and over their torso.

The water shifted again, and Finch bit down hard on their lip as they felt another tendril join the prior one, sliding gently between their legs as it did so — and sending an alarming spark of pleasure crackling up their spine.

Finch had started to breathe more heavily, feeling the urge to press their legs together onto the unidentifiable tendril as their toes curled. The prior tentacle that had snaked up between their legs prevented this, though, and so they were left a bit of a panting mess as they drifted in the dark.

Then, several more tendrils erupted from beneath, rippling at the surface of the water. They coiled around each of Finch’s wrists and ankles, seizing them firmly.

The message was clear: stop moving.

More tentacles continued writhing up Finch’s body, wrapping them in a peculiarly soft grip. Their chest, arms and legs were soon wrapped and unwrapped as the appendages below seemed to explore them. Soft touches trailed across their body — trails of fire that made Finch’s face redden more and more with every second.

Just. A. Hallucination! Finch frantically reminded themself, trying and failing not to react.

Finch stifled a moan, their hands balling into fists as the tentacle situated across their nether region pressed down none too lightly, rocking back and forth in an investigative manner.

Their bare skin prickled with sensation, and they once more frantically fought to stifle a cry as a warm glow enveloped them. These were some very vivid hallucinations, Finch frantically tried to justify to themself.

After all, if they weren’t hallucinations, what else could they be? Finch literally couldn’t think of any other possibility… but then again, it was difficult to think at all at the moment.

Finch sensed their face going red as they felt a tentacle lightly wrap about their neck. A soft tip stroked down their jawline, its motions careful and precise, like a doctor making an incision.

Another stroked across their cheek, pushing damp hair off to the side as the slit between their legs began to burn with an absolutely vicious heat. Finch felt trapped and slightly frightened, which apparently was really doing it for them judging by the sensations coursing up and down their body.

The appendages continued to glide over their skin, seemingly keen to explore every inch of Finch that was available. Sparks exploded inside of them as the tips of the soft feelers paused on their nipples, beginning to twist and play with them and leaving Finch feeling ever-so-slightly dazed.

They weren’t sure how long they floated in the dark before the shivering and quaking of their body began to mean they couldn’t possibly hold still a second longer. They twitched and shook in the unyielding embrace of the tentacles that had extended from the depths, their breath coming in shallow gasps.

It was as this happened, their world disappearing into a vision of noiseless pleasure, that a surge of heat swept through them. They gasped, and if sinking in the water had been possible, they were sure they would’ve surrendered to the depths below them.

One by one, Finch felt the tentacles fading away. They slipped from between their legs, and removed themselves from their chest and arms. Finch heard the soft splash of water as what they imagined to be thick writhing shapes disappeared back underneath.

The last one to go was the one that lingered about their neck. With one last caress of their chin, it slowly released, sliding gently back into the depths and leaving them once more floating unhindered in the water.

After a few minutes in the perfectly-still darkness, Finch detected the orange light of the torch in the corner of their eye. As the room swam back into view, they felt themselves become reoriented once more.

Finch looked upwards. Valdemar loomed above them at the edge of the pool, head tilting with curiosity.

“You’re back,” Finch noted, hurriedly getting out of the water and desperately hoping Valdemar didn’t notice how flustered they looked.

“Hmmm? I never left the room,” Valdemar informed them. “After all, I had to examine you during the course of the experiment.”

Finch immediately flushed. What… had they seen?

“And besides,” Valdemar added, cracking a sharp grin. “I couldn’t let you have all the fun in that sensory deprivation pool alone.”

Finch decided that for their own peace of mind, they were not going to ask any further questions on this matter — or think too hard about the worrying implications of what Valdemar had just said.

Instead, they asked another question.

“Quaestor… by any chance, have you ever heard of an event called the ‘Midsummer Masquerade?’”

“Midsummer Masquerade…?” For a moment, Valdemar looked genuinely confused — an unexpected sight.

“Ah. I do recall finding an invitation delivered to my estate — but as a rule of thumb, I don’t attend such events unless my presence is absolutely required. I never opened the envelope,” Valdemar replied with a shrug of their shoulders.

Of… course, Finch thought.

Naked in the cold depths of the dungeon, Finch started putting their clothes back on.

[inthestars011]

What it’s like falling in love with him 💓💓🥺 *check venus*

Based mostly on personal experience

Aries Venus- falling in

love with him was like always remembering the feeling of his loose red tee shirt even if you just felt the cotton warmth as it grazed your arm lightly as you walked past in the hallway. He’d stare right through you and make your body go cold, or sometimes he’d lightly smirk and you’d feel the burning of a million suns as they rolled and rolled

into the pit of your stomach without mercy. Loving him was like constant tension, an endless dark corridor. Loving him was like heartbreak that you begged for. He would say he just didn’t want you, and leave, disappearing through the trees and wistful breeze. But he would come back forceful and angry everytime he heard that your arm may be wrapped around another man, he’d ask you where you are and he couldn’t handle the thought of your fingers intertwined into other hands. Loving him made you angry and loving him set you free. You realized that the two of you were just not meant to be.

Taurus Venus- Loving him was like forgetting what it once felt like to be touch starved. Some days he’d let his fingers dance lightly on your leg, other days, he’d kiss your neck as you moaned and begged. Either way you knew you were home, you knew you were safe. There’s nowhere you’d rather lay, than under the sun and in his arms. Both sensations brought warmth and love. You’d laugh as he seemed to make your parents fall in love with him even more than you, he was so scared to lose you. He would cook for you, feed you hot soup when you were sick. sometimes, you’d disagree on things and he’d be kind of a dick. You will miss the golden summers in his eyes, the loyalty in his fingertips. You will miss the sun as it rested in the peaceful sky, the sweet honey in which you’d dip your feet in gently.

Gemini Venus- Falling in love with him was like laughing about the crude joke he made whilst being entranced with his sly smile as he wrapped his mouth around a beer bottle. You wanted him to savour you in his mouth and drink you like he did that Miller lite. He loved to make memories with you, even if memories is all that they are. A faint recall of true love, a remembrance of his smile. Butterfly’s are beautiful but are almost always gone by Sunday morning, he always brought a rude awakening without realizing. You will remember the fresh grass as it tickled your backs and not the sound of your heart as it cracked, you will remember staring at the stars and wanting to bathe in galaxies above, and while you looked up at those stars all he did was stare at you, and you’ll remember how the staring was slightly intrusive but nonetheless mischievous, innocent and cute. He was in awe. You will remember the nervous smiles, the cold bathroom tiles, the time worthwhile. You won’t remember your heart breaking.

Cancer Venus - Falling for him was like finally being cared for. You were an abandoned child left on a door step and he took you in and cradled you tight, he loved you even as you tried to fight, he loved you even when it didn’t feel quite right, he loved you through your darkness, through your stressful nights. As soon as his soft little heart decided you were family, he’d never ever leave your side and you’ll feel his wrath if you dare try. You were sick and broken and he held you, god, he was the only one who held you. He’d be moody and jealous and influence the entire mood of a room, he sometimes made you feel sad and wanting to find somewhere else to hide, crawl back up inside your mamas womb. He always made you comfortable, wrapped you up in a blanket full of love and he would show you there is warmth in not only the sun but also the moon and the stars. With him you didn’t feel unloved, no, love was always all around you and you didn’t have to search very far.

Leo Venus- A love with him was not a love that felt detached, no, you were the centre of his universe and that you were sure. He’d come home and tell you stories, some that made you laugh, some that made you cry. But they captivated you. God, he always captivated you. He was your gleaming star and you were his night, you were just perfect together, the shoe fit just right. He would get jealous, grabbing you and kissing you in front of everyone, you’d say “what the hell?” he’d chuckle and say “I wanted to claim what’s mine”. maybe that was too possessive and annoying or maybe you began to fall in love with it just as you did with his touch that gleamed and burned. people said when they heard you both giggle, the sound resembled two lovers as they intertwined, people would let out an “aww” as you two danced goofily in the living room after a few too many glasses of wine. He gave your heart exotic life under party lights and he let you win everytime at beer pong just because he wanted to please you. It took him a while to really reveal but one day he glanced at you and said “I really need you”.

Virgo Venus- falling for him was like finally being important. He worshipped you in a way that was quiet and soft. He criticized himself he never felt he was enough. He was always on his knees calling you an goddess as you sipped your fresh mint tea. You laughed and you said “I’m nothing of the sorts” he grabbed your face and told you, “ you absolutely are”. He helped you learned to love yourself and taught you so many things you never knew, theres so many things about the world and you really had no clue. He’d fix his hair and never know where to put his hands and you’d laugh and put them on your body and softly say “if you’re not sure where to put your hands; this is where I think they’ll stay”. He‘d shake with a nervous tremble and giggled with excitement. He picked the lint of your sweater and ran his fingers through your hair, he had an angelic type beauty, skin pure and fair. He would get grumpy when he was tired and sometimes it felt like he didn’t care, but he always gave his heart to you, he was always willing to share.

Libra Venus- He loved with a heart that was open and naive, a heart recklessly worn upon his sweater sleeve. He was so kind and soft he was almost unreal to you, he had hair like golden waves and a smile soft and true, he was delicious like candy, a body that was like a meal to you. And he was always read to be devoured as long as he could devour you too. There was red wine, roses on the bed, and fancy dates just for you two, the romance completely swept you away and never failed to enthral you. He was the prince and you were the princess and you giggled because you never knew that in a couple years would be living out a cheesy Taylor swift song in real life but here you were. Kissing the boy of your dreams, drinking champagne, and making love on the satin sheets. “Here we are baby, it’s just you and me.” He softly whispered in your ear, there’s no other words you’d rather hear.

Scorpio Venus- He loved you because you had a deepness about you, you had a sad soul and it struck him the right way. He never fucked with chit chat, no, he had a soul that yearned for more. He was destructively emotional, a mind that was at constant war. He wanted to change but only when he was with you, he could finally see good parts of himself, that he’d never seen before as you kissed along his scars and broken heart. He hated how much he loved you. some days he’d disappear and you wouldn’t hear from him, other days he couldn’t keep his hands off of you as he caressed along your body and wiped away your tears. He’d punch the wall and you hugged your knees, you’d scream as he crawled on the floor and cried, feeling weak. He taught you that love is something to fear. Love isn’t always clear. True love isn’t always comfortable and you felt that as his presence grew near.

Sagittarius Venus- He had eyes, full of lust honesty and fire. Two broken souls looking to move on, Bonnie and Clyde, forever on the run. Who said romance couldn’t be fun? He’d grab your bum and kiss you quick, soon the flame would burn out of the candle wick. He left you crawling for more, ugly, needy on the bathroom floor. You still recall the 3 am calls when you two felt like riding into the night and seeing where the stars take you, you touched the sky with your fingers tip, and then touched eachother and found meaning in the universe. Love can be true even when it is fleeting, a quick and passionate love can be just as defeating. Before you know it, he’s on a train, and you’re wondering why he ever went away. He’ll explain that his gods told him to go where he feels free and he can rest his head because down there he is authentic and true, and that he loves you so, but that place isn’t with you.

Capricorn Venus- He wants the poster image girl, someone sensitive and sweet to balance out his cold exterior. You were the only one who could make him feel truly warm. Before he knew it, he was in love. Perhaps it happened with a little playful nudge or a giggle in the wind. You were perfect for him, a match made in heaven, he was the wish you had been waiting for, your 11:11. He’d be quiet about it but as soon as he felt comfortable he told you about his dreams of picket white fences, lawn parties and kids learning how to play baseball in the yard. He told you he saw your face, Ivory and soft, blurry and faint in every one of those dreams. He worked till his hands hurt and you’d massage them at home, he had a serious look, stern to the bone. You’d kiss him and add the perfect softness to his life, it wasn’t long till he asked you “will you be my wife?”

Aquarius Venus- He wouldn’t dare say the word love, and he covered his ears as soon as the thought struck your mind and the word touched your tongue. Because you were only his best friend, a best friend that wore his stylish blue sweaters and he said you made them look better. You were just a best friend he couldn’t stop thinking about, a best friend that had a mouth he loved to taste, a best friend that he’s seen in only her lace. And you’d say “that doesn’t seem like a best friend to me” but all he’d do is laugh and disagree. Hed say “who’s to say what’s love and what’s lust, what is and what isn’t meant to be.” It hurt you because sometimes he was cold and almost alien like, but he was electric to the touch, he was neon lights and an addicting drug, so this so called “best friend” wasn’t someone you would give up.

Pisces Venus- once you are in love you saw him turn automatically soft, suddenly his hands melted into icecream and you couldn’t help but be addicted to how it was so sweet. He would tell you reminders of his love everyday, it was way of begging you to stay. He would tell you how sometimes you remind him of the flowers in may, or this really heart wrenching song he heard the other day. You would feel special and loved, like you two were angels or specks of stardust continuously falling. His love for you pours out like a waterfall and all you want to do is lay underneath and choke on it and let it drown you in the most hauntingly beautiful way. He is your saviour, your soft reminder of sunny days. He is what you never knew you needed when you always felt defeated, he was a wonderful sparkling surprise, he was more of a god than simply a guy.

[henrycavillobsessed]

Porcelain

Characters: Henry Cavill x Anwen Evans (fictional fiance)

Summary: Henry and Anwen’s life was perfect. Until one day, one phone call, changes everything.

Words: 3,444

TW/CW: Death, car accident, description of injuries, hospital, grief. Slight mention of implied sex; some bad language. 

Notes: So here it is, my latest fanfic. It’s been a while, due to a bit of a mind block. The idea for this came to me, after being inspired by the song Porcelain by Emarosa (link below in case you’re interested). This one is different to my other fics, for one it’s not the usual Henry x reader narrative. I have created a character this time to act as his partner. Also this one is LONG (3,444 words). I have enjoyed writing a longer and more complex story and I hope you enjoy reading it. (As a warning, it’s SAD. I am not ashamed to admit I cried just writing it.)

Link to song: https://open.spotify.com/track/7rk8cH53nI8ffb5ZccjfpT?si=QMVvEmA3TK-3WuQXJanMmQ

“Oww! Shit!”

Henry looked up from the book he was reading in bed. Anwen was rubbing her forehead and looking very wounded. She’d clearly just walked into the doorframe. Again. Henry laughed out loud.

“Don’t laugh at me!” A pillow flew through the air and missed its target of Henry’s face by a considerable amount. He laughed again. 

“I can’t help it. You are so clumsy!”

Anwen climbed into bed, still massaging the sore spot on her head. She scowled at Henry. “If I remember correctly Mr Cavill, it was because of me being clumsy that meant we met for the very first time.”

“Hmm,” Henry reached over and gathered her up in his arms, leaning back against the headboard. He kissed her gently on the faint bruise that was blooming on her pale skin. “I do remember,” he said fondly. 

          It had been over five years ago now. Henry was out with his friend and colleague Simon Pegg, drinking their way through some of London’s best nightclubs. It had been a great night so far, with both men enjoying their freedom; they’d recently finished filming their latest movie and were celebrating. Henry was feeling happily tipsy, and when Simon offered to go to the bar for another round, he didn’t refuse. 

“Get some shots too!” he shouted at Simon’s back as he left their table. Simon waved a hand in response; Henry took that as a yes and smiled. He was just checking his Instagram on his phone when something- someone- crashed into him and he felt the cold wetness of a spilt drink over his shoulder and down his shirt. He looked up incredulously. A woman was stood there with an empty glass and an equally shocked expression.

“Oh, my go- I am so sorry!” she said in a very attractive Welsh accent, Henry thought. He felt his annoyance dissipate immediately. 

“Hey, don’t worry about it, accidents happen. How much have you had to drink anyway?” he asked cheekily. 

The woman’s ivory skin blushed, contrasting prettily with her ebony hair, which was cascading around her shoulders in thick waves.

“Um, I actually don’t drink,” she admitted. “I have just shown you how uncoordinated I am; I really don’t need to throw alcohol into the mix.” 

“Very wise. Hi, I’m Henry Cavill.”

“Anwen Evans, nice to meet you.” They shook hands and were making pleasant small talk when Simon returned with the drinks.

“What on earth happened to your shirt?” he asked Henry. 

“Anwen happened. Anwen, this is my friend Simon Pegg.” 

Anwen’s face lit up. “I love your movies! Hot Fuzz is just hilarious!” she said to Simon, who smiled widely and they spent the next few moments quoting lines from the film. Simon looked sideways at Henry, and saw the way he was looking at Anwen, and cleared his throat.

“Well, it’s been lovely to meet you, but I must get on. Henry, I’ll call you tomorrow,” he said, winking at his friend. Henry mouthed a silent thank you, grinning. 

After Anwen explained to her girlfriend’s that she was going to continue the night with Henry, prompting a lot of excited giggling and whispering, she sat herself down at Henry’s table. The hours flew by as they got to know each other. Anwen was an up-and-coming chef, who’d recently opened a new restaurant nearby in London. She told Henry about the restaurant’s menu, and Henry promised to try it out soon. In return, Henry told her about the films he’d been in. He was mock-outraged when Anwen admitted she’d never seen a Superman movie, let alone Man of Steel, and laughing, she promised she’d check it out soon. Conversation naturally flowed between them, Henry felt so at ease with her, and it turned out they had quite a bit in common. As Henry told Anwen about his akita Kal, Anwen told him she also had a dog, a golden retriever named Ciri.

“Ciri?” Henry had asked. “As in Ciri from The Witcher?”

“Yeah! I’m such a huge fan, I’ve read all the books, and I’ve played all the games!”

Henry laughed. “You are never going to believe who I’ve just been cast as for my next job…” Anwen’s jaw dropped to the floor when he told her. 

The night ended with Henry walking Anwen home to her nearby townhouse, and they shared their first kiss on the doorstep, swapping numbers with the promise to meet up again soon for a date.

          Now back in the present, nearly six years later, Anwen had moved into Henry’s penthouse, with Ciri who Kal adored. Both dogs were curled up at the end of the bed now, fast asleep.

In Henry’s arms, Anwen cuddled in close. “Yes, so if it wasn’t for me tripping and drenching you that night we wouldn’t be here now, so stop taking the piss!”  

“Okay, okay!” Henry laughed. “I do worry though, you know. You’re like… like porcelain. So easily broken. Be more careful, I’d hate for something to happen, for me to lose you. I love you so much, my Annie.”

“Don’t be so soft! I’m not going anywhere, not for a long time. And I’ll love you until the day I’m gone, and if I can love after, then I will then too. So shush,” Anwen replied, placing a kiss on his lips.

“Anyway, I’m not that breakable, I don’t think. Wanna test this theory?” 

Swinging her legs around Henry’s waist, Anwen straddled him and seductively removed her top. She was braless underneath. Henry whistled low, and licked his lips.

“Yes ma’am.”

          Henry and Anwen’s life continued in perfect bliss. Both had never been as happy as they were with each other. Anwen was now an established celebrity chef, having opened many more restaurants worldwide, written a few cookbooks and even been on television a couple of times. Henry’s career as an actor was skyrocketing, his role at Geralt in The Witcher making him a household name. This meant that he had to travel all around the globe for work, however this didn’t impact his and Anwen’s relationship in the slightest, as she regularly went with him, using the time to research new recipes for her business. When they had spare time, they enjoyed exotic holidays, and it was on the white powder sand of the Maldives that Henry proposed. Anwen had burst into tears and accepted immediately, and they’d spent the rest of that holiday on their private island mostly naked, enjoying each other as an engaged couple.           Their home life was refreshingly normal however. Behind closed doors, they were just Henry and Anwen, not the famous actor and the celebrity chef. They both took in turns to cook dinner, did the housework together and spent the evenings cwtched up on the sofa watching old movies. Laughter was a staple in their home, in fact they only ever rowed when England played Wales at rugby during the Six Nations. Life was indeed bliss, and it seemed nothing could burst this content bubble they were living in.

            One average day in late autumn, Anwen was sat at the kitchen table, with her laptop open in front of her and Ciri snoozing quietly at her feet. Dressed in a pair of comfy sweats and a loose off-the-shoulder jumper, her hair piled artfully messy on top of her head and holding a large cup of coffee in her hands, she was looking at wedding venues online, finally making a start on planning their special day. A huge binder was also open on the table with multiple sheets on paper sticking out of it. She’d made plenty of notes and had lots of ideas; it was now time to put them into action. Henry walked into the kitchen, looking very stylish in back jeans and a tight black t-shirt. He was holding Kal’s lead and the akita was tip-tapping on the tiles behind him, clearly very excited about going for a walk. Ciri didn’t even raise her head, happy enough to stay in with her mum and continue her nap. 

“I’m going to take Kal with me to the meeting with my manager,” he said to Anwen. “Then do you fancy meeting me after with Ciri and we’ll take them for a walk in the park?” 

“Yes, my love, sounds lush. How long will you be do you think?”

“Not sure, I’ll call you when I’m done.”

“Sounds like a plan!”

“What are you up to today?” Henry asked, walking over to Anwen and kissing her on the top of her head. “Wedding stuff?”

“Yeah, I’m gonna send off some emails now this morning and then go to this bakery and try out some wedding cake samples,” Anwen smiled.

“Well, I’m jealous! Have a great day honey, I’ll call you later. Love you!”

“Love you, bye!” she called as he walked out the front door.

          Henry’s meeting was going well. His manager had quite a few prospective roles lined up for him, and Henry was interested in the majority of them. His mind wandered to Anwen every so often; he still missed her when they were apart. As the meeting was coming to a close and Kal started getting excited again at going for another walk, Henry’s phone rang. He looked at the caller ID- withheld number. 

“Hello?”

“Is this Mr Henry Cavill? I’m a nurse here at London hospital. We have you down here as Miss Anwen Evans’s emergency contact.”

Henry paled. “Is she okay?”

“I’m afraid Miss Evans has been involved in a serious accident. We have her here at the emergency department. Can you get here straight away?”

          Henry had never moved so quickly in his entire life. After giving his manager a hurried explanation and asking him whether he’d look after Kal, he’d gotten in his car and sped through the streets of London, not caring that he was breaking the speed limit. He parked illegally, jumping out of the vehicle and sprinting into the hospital. His mind was in overdrive, all sorts of scenarios going through his head. He felt sick with fear and exertion. Flying into the emergency room, he looked around wildly, finding a nurse sat at the front desk.

“Anwen Evans? I’m here for Anwen Evans, I’m Henry Cavill,” he cried desperately. The nurse didn’t hesitate.

“Come with me.”

She explained to Henry what had happened on the way. “Anwen was crossing the road at a zebra crossing when she tripped halfway, according to witnesses. There was a speeding car, who didn’t see her. He… he ran right over her. He didn’t stop. There are police looking for the car and driver as we speak.”

The flash of anger that Henry felt was so severe that his steps faltered for a second. But then he pushed it away, to be dealt with later. All that mattered now was Anwen. 

“Mr Cavill, Anwen is in a bad way. She has a serious brain injury, and multiple body fractures. The trauma team managed to get her stable, but it’s touch-and-go. The next twenty-four hours are critical,” the nurse said gently. “Prepare yourself before you go in.”

She opened the door to the dimly lit room. The sound of machines beeping dominated the otherwise peaceful atmosphere. Henry moved closer to the bed, his mouth dry, hands shaking. His Annie was lying in the bed, connected to the machines, wires snaking out from every part of her it seemed. Her beautiful black hair was covered by thick white bandages wrapped around her head, and every part of her skin was purple and blue bruises. Her striking green eyes, usually so full of love and sparkle, were swollen shut. Henry had never seen anything so heartbreaking; tears coursed unbidden down his cheeks.

“Can I sit by her? Hold her hand?” he choked to the nurse. 

“Of course, pet.”

He pulled up a chair to her bedside and ever so gently took Anwen’s hand in his. It was reassuringly warm. He could do nothing for a moment but stroke it slowly. Worry filled every part of his being. 

“I’m here Annie. It’s your Henry. Come back to me, you can get through this,” he whispered, and then as sobs wracked through him, he added, “you said you’d love me until you’re gone and I’ll be damned if you’re going anywhere yet.” 

For the next few hours, Henry didn’t leave Anwen’s side; he didn’t let go of her hand. He held onto hope that she would get better. After all, porcelain could break yes, but it could also be fixed. And he would do anything to fix her. 

          As it approached eighteen hours since Anwen’s accident, a nurse came into the room and caught Henry fighting not to fall asleep. She softly tapped him on the shoulder.

“Mr Cavill, go and get some rest. You’re more than welcome to use the family room just next door. Freshen up, get an hour or so sleep. If anything changes, I promise I’ll come and notify you immediately.”

Henry considered this, torn between not wanting to leave Anwen’s side and the need to at least wash his face. 

“I’ll be half an hour, tops. Annie, I’ll be right back.” He put her hand down, and exited the room, rubbing his tired eyes as he went. 

He hadn’t been gone five minutes when a terrifying beeping screeched out from Anwen’s room. He ran out of the bathroom still with wet hands, his heart in his mouth. He halted in the doorway, petrified at the scene unfolding in front of him. 

A team of medics were working hard on her, the unrelenting beeping just adding to the frenzy of the situation. Anwen’s heart had stopped; someone fired up a defibrillator. The shock that went through her echoed in Henry. He just didn’t know what to do. He was vaguely aware of someone trying to lead him away but he just couldn’t move, couldn’t tear his eyes away, panic rising, threatening to overspill. His Annie, his Annie was there dying on that bed, and he couldn’t do anything but watch. And then suddenly, the most sinister sound yet. A flatline. Followed by a voice.

“We’ve lost her. Time of death, eight fifteen AM…”

Then silence.

The sound that tore its way up and out through Henry’s throat was that of a wounded animal. He screamed, the feeling pure agony.

“No! NO! There must be something you can do! My Annie! Annie…”

The doctor looked at him with sadness in his eyes. “I am so sorry, Henry. So sorry. Please, everyone, give him some space.”

The rest of his team followed him out; the nurse that had told Henry to go get some rest was crying silently. 

Henry stood rooted to the spot, in a state of absolute denial. Only a day before they’d been in their kitchen together, making plans to walk their beloved dogs, she was planning their wedding. Their wedding. Agony ripped through his chest, sobs wracked his body, his breathing erratic, his heart shattered, never to be healed again. Broken, like porcelain. 

          Henry didn’t know how he got through the funeral. He’d been to the funeral home, and dressed her in her favourite dress and shoes, and spent a long time brushing out her hair; he’d done that when she was alive, but the familiar act did nothing to ease his pain. When he got to the church, he walked down the aisle with her coffin on his shoulder, his heart heavy because he should have been watching her walk down the aisle in a white flowing dress towards him, he should be becoming her husband, not burying her. When it came to reading her eulogy, he was overcome with emotion, for the first time in his life not able to talk in public. His mother helped him down from the podium; his father continued the speech. There wasn’t a dry eye in the house.

At the wake, he got blind drunk. No one saw him for a week afterwards.

          The news of Anwen’s death was plastered all over the newspapers and online. Headlines such as “HENRY CAVILL FIANCE KILLED IN TRAGIC ACCIDENT” and “CELEBRITY CHEF ANWEN EVANS DEAD AT 27” accompanied photos of the both of them. The hole in Henry’s chest got bigger each time he saw it. He threw himself into his work; being someone else for at least 12 hours a day was easier than dealing with real life. Because the grief was all consuming, terrifying, never-ending. When he got home to his cold and empty penthouse, he couldn’t escape it; Kal and Ciri looked at him sadly every night, the question in their eyes: “where is our mummy?” Henry had no answers for them. He spent each evening sat in the dark, in silence. There was no laughter, no enjoyment in life since she’d gone. 

          A few weeks later, Simon came to visit. He’d been dropping in regularly, terribly worried about his friend. Henry looked, quite frankly, awful. His hair was long and the curls unkempt, he’d let his beard grow out and he had deep purple bags under his eyes. He’d lost a lot of weight too, although he hadn’t stopped working out. Simon sat down next to Henry on his sofa, nervously voicing the question he’d come round to ask.

“Henry, it’s the awards ceremony tonight. Will you be going?”

Henry looked at him like he’d gone mad. 

“Look,” Simon continued. “You’ve been nominated for Best Actor. It’s highly likely you’re going to win. Remember how she… how Anwen was really looking forward to going.” This was true. The red dress she’d been planning to wear was still hung up on the back of the bedroom door. “If you don’t want to go for yourself, why don’t you go for her?”

Henry thought it over. He hadn’t been out, apart from work and the gym, since before the accident. The thought of going to such a high-profile event caused panic. Yet… an image of Anwen, smiling before him in that red dress suddenly entered his mind. She had been so excited; she’d even helped him write his acceptance speech in case he did in fact win Best Actor. Go for her, Simon had said…

          And that’s how, just hours later, Henry found himself back on the red carpet, surrounded by flashing lights and crazed shouting as paparazzi tried to get his attention. He posed for a few photos before hurrying inside and taking his seat. He ate the extravagant three-course meal without really tasting it, drank the wine without really feeling it. Simon sat by his side, a welcome support; a truly great friend. Then, finally, it was time for the awards to be given. 

Henry clapped and cheered as each person won their nominated categories; showing his support for his fellow actors and actresses. Seeing them so happy actually lifted his spirits for the first time since… before. Then it was time for the winner of the Best Actor award.

“And the winner is… HENRY CAVILL!”

Henry sat in shock as the cameras and spotlights panned to him. Simon was on his feet, screaming “I knew he’d do it!” and then he was helping Henry up. “Go on mate, to the stage. You won, you bloody won!” 

In a daze, he walked towards the stage, then across it, accepting his award from the host. The applause was tumultuous; it took a few moments for it to die down, and then everyone in the audience was waiting expectantly for his speech. Henry drew a blank; he had no idea what to say.

“You can do it, handsome!” a heartbreakingly familiar voice whispered in his ear. He looked to the side and his breath hitched in his throat. Anwen was stood there, a wide grin all over her face, looking devastatingly beautiful in the red dress she’d planned to wear tonight. 

“I’m right here with you. I love you.”

Tears welled and spilled from Henry’s eyes as he turned back to face the audience. 

“This award,” he started. “is for my Anwen. My Annie. I couldn’t have been the actor who deserved it without her love and encouragement. She was my everything. She still is. I owe this, my entire career, my entire life to you, my angel. I miss you more than words can describe, and I love you even more.

As he left the stage to even louder applause and cheers and flashing lights, he looked up, seeing the love of his life again, smiling, tears sparkling on her cheeks, blowing him a kiss as she faded away.

“Goodbye my Annie,” he whispered. “Goodbye.”

[partywithgyu]

𝓢𝓬𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓶𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓒𝓸𝓵𝓸𝓻𝓼

//𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓢𝓸𝓸𝓫𝓲𝓷//

♡♡♡♡♡

Pairing: Soobin x Reader.

Tag: Café!au.

W/C: 1810.

Chapter summary: Soobin starts working at Screaming Colors.

Chapter 1.

♡♡♡♡♡

1

Sage green were the tiles on the wall. you faced as you arranged the many things placed on the counter. Packets of sugar you placed in a cup. The cup was to be placed on the collection counter. There were a series of tasks you'd have to do every morning to prepare for the day ahead of you. You enjoyed doing them. At least, now you did. For life seemed to be more monotonous, you found tiny packets of joy in tasks as simple as arranging packets of sugars. 

 The sound of the door swinging open made you look up. Finally, your co-workers Huening Kai and Beomgyu had arrived. It was something you'd anticipate. Working in a busy café all by yourself would be difficult. The place was understaffed because it had opened recently. You even brought the issue up to the owner once. The old lady told you, with the sweetest smile, that she would hire another person soon. All you could do was try to not get distracted by her colorful, fancy earrings as she spoke. Seeing her smile, you smiled, hoping she'd stick to her word. Well, she didn't hire anyone very soon. 

She stuck to her words, though. Today was the day the new guy was going to start working. "Good morning," said the two boys in unison as they walked toward you. "Morning," you greeted them. Your eyes then landed on the boy who had walked in behind them. The tall boy gave you a small, polite smile. "Good morning," he said awkwardly, making Huening Kai laugh. Laughing when nothing funny had happened was a very common thing for Huening Kai to do. You were used to it. "He's Soobin, the new guy," informed Beomgyu. "Oh. Nice to meet you." "You too." 

 On your first day of work, you were unsure of if you would be decent at the job even. Well, you were pretty good. The best thing about being a barista was the power you held. You had the power to set the tone of someone's day. People walking in, yet to consume their daily dose of caffeine, interacted with you every morning. You tried to make the interactions as positive as possible, even though some of them seemed rather cranky with clouded minds. 

 Your interactions with the customers were amazing. At least, that's what Soobin thought. Taking orders was your job. Preparing the drinks and meals, were the jobs assigned to Beomgyu and Huening Kai. Though Beomgyu had taken over the duty to explain to him how the café would be run, you had managed to gain his interest. You truly enjoyed the job, he could conclude. The morning he had spent placing muffins and pastries on the plates, when they were demanded and then washing the rather colorful plates and cups. 

 "I hope you had a good first day," you said to Soobin. There was a smile on your face as you adjusted the bag over your shoulder. The shift did come to an end after all. It was evening when the four of you found yourselves walking down the same lane as you always did. "Yes. Thank you," he said to you, making you chuckle. You found the formality cute. His nervousness showed through his awkward mannerism.  "Don't thank her. I taught you everything," said Beomgyu, confident as ever. He really did take pride in his mentoring. Soobin shyly turned to him. "Thank you," he said to Beomgyu. It was a rather funny sight to watch someone actually take Beomgyu seriously. Huening Kai and you shared a look before laughing. "Wow. He's so nice," you praised. "You were like this when you joined too. Look at you now," said Huening Kai, earning a light slap on his arm. "I am nice." 

 The not so meaningful conversation came to an end when the lane did. Waving at the other three guys, you turned to the left. Everytime you'd part ways with them here. This was when you felt more lonely because someone once waited for you, right at the turn, on weekends. The boy named Yeonjun, was your lover. Outside the café, you were lonely because most of your time you would spend with him. Living in apartments just a series of steps away, made it easy for you to do so. When you two were kids, you would build sand castles with him. That was your earliest memory of being his friend. The latest memory was the one of him ending the relationship for he had to move to the states. You two were distant, soon the memories would be. He hadn't even cared to call you once or twice. Not even his new number you knew. The birthday wish you had sent to them on instagram, was never read. As if, he had realized that he was happier without the relationship. 

Still you tried to convince yourself otherwise. You held onto meaningless hope, you wished you could let go of. You couldn't. Such things weren't as easy to you as you wished they were. 

On Sunday, Soobin was the second one to arrive. He had walked in to see you lost in your thoughts as you stared at the green tiles. The golden sunlight highlighted the tip of your nose. Your lips were curved into a frown. It was a sight beautiful but sad. You were more cheerful the day before. He cleared his throat to earn a cheerful greeting. You smiled when you saw him standing there. "Good morning," you said to him. "Good morning," he said shyly before heading to the back room. 

Few minutes later, you watched Beomgyu and Huening Kai running into the store. Startled, you could only question the reason. "Why are you guys running?," you asked. The two boys were panting. Beomgyu even sat down on the floor. This only made you wonder if you should lock the door or something. "Will you guys answer?" Huening Kai decided to destroy your curiosity. "We saw Miss Park's car on our way here. Didn't want her to know that we were late," he let you know. The two of them then rushed into the back room. Soobin who walked out as they went in, gave them a look of curiosity. "The owner is on her way," you let him know. "The two of them don't want her to know that they're late again so the rush," you explained. The tall boy came and stood beside you. "They're late often?," he asked casually.    

 "Yeah. The two of them plan on coming here together. Beomgyu oversleeps. Huening Kai is an angel who waits for him without complaining. That's how they get late," you went on. Soobin's lips formed  a small 'oh.' His face to you seemed rather beautiful. The comforting kind of beautiful. It was his nose that caught your attention. It was so cute. You wished you could tell it out loud or maybe poke his cheeks. You couldn't. That wouldn't be a normal thing to do. So, you didn't do it. You looked outside, through the glass door to see the owner of the café named Screaming Colors, getting out from the red SUV. 

Bright colors really were her thing. At least it suited her bright personality. Even this early in the morning she could get herself to walk into the café with a smile on her face. 

 "Good morning, Miss Park," you greeted the lady. 

  "Good morning, Y/N," she said to you with a warm smile. Miss Park was a stylish woman. Anyone you knew her, knew that. On this day she wore an orange coat over black trousers. To compliment the coat, she wore huge, sunflower earrings. The yellow color was indeed eye catching. "How are you?," she asked. Dragging your attention away from the yellow earrings you looked at her. "I am fine. How have you been, ma'am?," you asked her. "I've been good. I thought of coming in and checking if everything is going well," she said as looked around the café. 

"So, this is the new guy?," she asked. "Yes." "Nice to meet you. I am Choi Soobin." The tall boy bowed slightly while introducing himself. "Nice to meet you, Soobin. I hope you work diligently," she said. She always smiled as she spoke. Some giggles too were heard as she spoke. This woman always sounded so happy, you felt rather dull compared to her. "Where are the other two guys?"

  "We were cleaning the staff room," lied Beomgyu as he walked outside the room. The taller boy, who definitely didn't seem like a good liar, followed the older. "Ah. Good. Good." Them being praised by the older woman for work that you did wasn't the best thing in the world. It just made you stare at Beomgyu with a blank expression. He just gave you a small, mischievous smile. These were the things you had to deal with quite often now. 

 "I know we don't have a lot of staff. It's a new café. There are no dorms around. It's difficult," she said to the four of you. Her apologetic tone made you  feel the need to tell her to not worry. But then again, the manager wouldn't even arrive before noon. Also, Beomgyu really couldn't even get up on time. On a few days, he had definitely arrived much later than he had today. You noticed that his apron wasn't even tied properly. He wanted to make you facepalm so hard. You could not do that. So all you did was give him a small glare. 

 Soobin looked over at you, secretly wishing for this boring conversation to end soon. It was rather awkward to him. Especially since it was just his second day of work. But then again, he didn't have a lot of plans for the day. His best friend who seemed to have been making their friendship complicated had moved to the states. No explanations for the impulsive kisses were left behind for him. He was left to remain curious. Wondering if he was just one of the many people Yeonjun had made such impulsive decisions with. He wished he would have been more than that. Somehow, no one in college felt like they were more than that. They were all left to wonder if there was a reason he didn't date anyone. He was a player they assumed. To Soobin, he didn't seem like one. He was so caring and genuine. Someone Soobin could connect with. He had to be more than just a player.

He would forget about him sooner or later, he assured himself. His classmates had stopped talking about him. His name was not mentioned as much in conversations anymore.

"Well, what about your friend who was interested?," the old woman asked you.

 "Yeonjun? He moved to the states." 

♡♡♡♡♡

To head to my masterlist click here.

[kingsuckjin]

The Enigma of Bunny |Pt.1

Pairing: Jungkook x reader, Jimin x reader, Yoongi x reader, Jin x reader, Taehyung x reader(later)

Genre: alternate universe!au, fluff, smut(later), horror, mystery

Words: 5.8k+

Warnings: eventual yandere themes, mention of mental illness, hints of possible abuse. The O.C. is so kind and naive she's basically a doormat right now and its a bit sad.

Notes: this is my first time writing on tumblr so please be kind ❤ sorry for all the mistakes

Synopsis:

You find a very sick young man in an alley and out of the bottomless barrel of kindness that is your heart, you decide take him home. only then do you realize this stranger doesn't speak, but that's not the only strange thing about him by far. Who is he? Where did he come from? What happened to him? And why can't he remember anything or even speak?

Prev // next

---

Who said rain was relaxing?

It was pouring and you couldn't be mote distraught right now, but you had done it to yourself.

You listened to the sound of the rain beating on the roof and let out a huff as you opened the refrigerator.

Yup. You were definitely missing ingredients for tonight's dinner that you had craved so desperately.

You wanted to slam the refrigerator door closed in exasperation but it wasn't really the appliance's fault you ate all the eggs for breakfast.

You paced the kitchen floor for a moment deciding whether or not just to order take out when you heard thunder roll.

No, you would feel too bad having someone deliver you food when there was a store just right up the street, plus it was definitely cheaper. It's not like a little bit of rain would kill you anyway. Not to mention you had been on your computer working and stuck inside anyway, it was about time you left the apparent, rain or shine... or terrible storm.

You donned a rain coat, rain boots and your yellow and blue polka dot umbrella before stepping out into the hall of your apartment building.

A scoff from behind you as you were double checking to make sure your door was locked.

You turned around to see your black haired, pale neighbor on his way back to his apartment.

Even though he seemed to always be irritable for no reason towards you, his eyes with their shape and upward tilt at the ends and his overall face reminded you of a cute cat.

You were snapped out of comparing his features to a feline as he looked at your umbrella and rolled his eyes.

"What?" You furrowed your brows at him. You knew he thought your umbrella was probably childish or stupid looking or something that wasn't up to his cool standards so as soon as you asked you slightly hid it behind your back a little.

"Nothing. Here’s your mail, it was overflowing and getting all wet and it looked ugly. Had I known you were coming out anyway, I would've just left it." He said and handed you the slightly damp stack of envelopes.

"Oh thank-" you went to say but he was already retreating to his apartment.

That was Min Yoongi for you though, occasionally doing nice things for you without you asking but acting like it was just a big inconvenience anyway making you wonder why he even bothered.

You headed down the stairs only to be met with another neighbor and your sort of friend, sort of crush, Jimin, who was just coming in from back outside the building as well.

"Look who finally decide to come out of their apartment! And in the worst weather of the week too." He gave you a smile as he closed his umbrella with rubber ducks all over it. It dripped water all over the tile floor and you hoped no one would slip on that later.

"Nice umbrella." You said without even a hint of sarcasm. He glanced at yours and returned the compliment.

You were just glad you didn't have to feel ashamed of your own with the bright yellow birds pattered across his.

"Yours is cute too. Hey, you want to maybe do a movie night sometime this week if you're not still too busy?" He sifted his fingers through his blonde hair with a smile. Both gestures combined along with his question were enough to make your knees feel slightly weak.

"I-uh-yeah! My place again or..."

"Yeah, that would be great. Your sofa is so much more comfortable than mine."

His sweet smile showed in his eyes and your heart melted to combine with his water puddle on the floor from his umbrella.

"I- I like my sofa too." You were nervous and scrambling to pull yourself together. He just chuckled at you and your stupidity. You were probably making this weird and you knew it would be best if you just split before you uttered anymore nonsense. "I- I'll text you later, okay? Promise." You told him and then realized you really didn't need to through the promise in there, probably.

"I'll hold you to it." He gave you a wink as he headed inside his apartment.

"Okay." You answered quietly but you knew he was already inside.

You stepped out of the doors of the apartment complex into the downpour and thunder.

You popped up your umbrella and began to walk as your thoughts were consumed by the first and last movie night you had with Jimin.

He had looked so disinterested in the movie he had picked out that near the end he was just sighing and yawning and saying he wishes he was at his house so he could just lay down, and that he was tired. So you didn't understand why he would want to make it at his house this time if he had felt so uncomfortable at yours even though he had just now told you differently.

To you he was such a confusing person with his stylish attire and yet he owned a cute little duck umbrella. You wondered how was he able to not get made fun of about his cute umbrella and you did. You wondered how often attractive people got made fun of or if people thought everything they did no matter what it was just made them more attractive.

You had to stop thinking about Jimin once you entered the store and focus on the things you needed because you'd rather starve before making a second trip out in this.

Not only did you pick up eggs but you decided on a few snacks too just to be safe from eating the ingredients to dinner again before dinner.

As you were ringing up you heard a voice behind you.

"Oh hey! I knew you looked familiar."

You took your change and turned around to see a man's chest and broad shoulders. You looked up to see the man you had a crush on all through out university... and apparently you still did.

"Oh! Hey Seokjin! It's been a few years hasn't it?" You smiled at him warmly as he smiled back at you widely with his plump lips.

How many attractive people were you going to run into today looking like you just crawled out of the gutter?

"It has! You look like you've aged quite elegantly."

Your smile almost faltered at his comment.

Aged? It had only been three years since you graduated, in fact, he was two years older than you. You did your best to try to take it as a compliment because that's what he meant by it, obviously. Right?

"Thank you! You still look really, really good." You looked him over again but realized you were very obviously checking him out. You felt like slapping yourself for saying too much like usual. Fortunately he dodged it all just like he did in the university days, blocking out completely that you were awkwardly, nervously, and unintentionally flirting with him.

"I know, I work hard to stay this handsome." You had never been able to tell if he was joking or not when he said things like that, but you had always internally agreed. "What do you do now a days?"

You felt he might be judging your sweatpants that you didn't bother to change out of for what was supposed to be a quick trip to the store. You looked at his dress pants and white button up shirt that seemed to be wet around the shoulders from the rain.

"Marketing." Was your only answer. You didn't know what else to say about your situation and you couldn't really tell him you were pretty much a shut in, now could you?

"You?" You decided to deflect the question away from yourself.

"Just... business, you know? The same boring stuff we went to school for." He replied as he paid the cashier for his things and was handed his bag.

"Are you walking too?" He was probably judging by your rain coat and you were attempting to juggle your umbrella and bags.

You nodded.

"Which way?"

You pointed to the left.

"Ahh, darn. I'm heading right. Well, it was really nice seeing you again. Maybe next time I'll have more time and it won't be raining and we can maybe catch up."

His words gave you a hopeful smile.

"That would be nice." You agreed.

"Bye Soomin!" He gave you a smile and wave as he walked the opposite direction. You raised your hand to return the wave and lifted the corners of your mouth in a smile before heading to the left.

That wouldn't have been so bad...

had Soomin been your name.

Seriously, you had been pretty good friends with him for three whole years until he graduated, how had he not remembered your name? You use to help him with his papers and everything, you've even met his parents before.

You felt a little hurt, a bit broken and even more so when you remembered Soomin was one of the many short term girls he had dated while friends with you. Seokjin had always done that. He had to know you liked him back then but he had never once spoke about it. Truthfully it wasn't even all that great being his friend because he always-

You were suddenly snapped out of your thoughts by a groaning and a strong cough coming from one of the alley ways you were about to pass right before you got to your apartment.

You peeked in worrying that maybe someone was hurt or something.

You saw sneakers poking out from the other side of a dumpster with it eclipsing the view of the person.

It was probably some poor homeless person trying to get out of the downpour but you really hoped it wasn't someone hurt or something.

You took out a little bit of money in hopes that it was just a vagrant seeking shelter and started towards the still coughing person.

He didn't look homeless, was your first thought. It was a guy only a few years looking younger than you and his jeans and t-shirt didn't look dirty or ripped or like he had worn them for days, just wet.

He sat against a brick building with his head to the side and his eyes closed. He looked sick... or drunk? You didn't see any wounds on him but you thought it might be better to just ask.

"Sir? Are you alright?"

His reply was just mutters that didn't even seem to be words with his eyes still closed not bothering to even look at you. You were beginning to get pretty convinced that he had just had one too many drinks before another terrible cough ripped from him. It had that chesty rattle to it like maybe it could be pneumonia or something.

Concerned, you knelt in front of him and looked at how pale he was but his nose and cheeks were slightly pink. His face reminded you of a poor little defenseless bunny rabbit. Water droplets ran from his soaking wet, strands of deep chestnut hair and down his face. He let out another groan and you couldn't help it anymore.

You reached forward and touched the back of your hand lightly his forehead head. Despite the cool rain on his skin, his head was burning up.

You were now very worried.

Maybe you should call the police? But you wondered if they'd even do anything. You couldn't just leave him here, right? It simply just wasn't in your nature.

You decided to try to half pack, half drag the stranger the little bit of the way left home.

The good news was, he seemed a little less out of it once you got him up off the ground, but not by much, you still had to pretty much take all his weight with his arm around you along with carry your groceries, umbrella and make sure he didn't fall.

The bad news was, he was much, much heavier than he looked and was very hard to get up the stairs to your apartment and through the door. You hoped none of your neighbors would pop on back out and witness what looked to be you kidnapping a drugged looking young man. To your first piece of luck of the day, no one saw you.

You were aching, wet, tired and sore by the time you pretty much got him to your sofa where you let go of him and let him fall back.

Once down, he was back out instantly, groaning and coughing.

You managed to put the groceries away and get some medicine down him basically by shoving it down his throat, but you had to so the fever would stop.

You then rummaged through your closet until you found a pair of pink pyjama pants that would fit his slender frame and you grabbed a thick blanket and a towel too.

You were apprehensive as you peeled his wet shirt off his fevered groaning body, it just felt so wrong. You knew you had no choice but to undress him even though he was pretty much unconscious, you had to get him out of those completely soaked clothes before he got any worse.

You looked the other direction and struggled quite a bit, mumbling a string of apologies as you did your best to keep any inappropriate areas covered with the blanket.

You had dressed and wrapped him up in a blanket before drying his hair and propping his head up on a sofa throw pillow.

"I'm so sorry for all this, but at least you can rest now out of the rain."

He seemed to sleep more peacefully now, he groaned a lot less, but you kept checking up on him as you made dinner anyway.

It felt hopeless to get him to eat or drink even just a little, he just couldn't be be awake long enough to and he didn't seem aware at all.

You forced some more medicine down him before bed and felt his head after he let out another atrocious cough. His fever felt like it was gone for now so that was a plus you guessed.

He laid there helpless and sick as guilt throttled your heart.

You simply just couldn't help but brush some hair from his closed eyes to get a better look at him.

His lips were slightly parted showing a bit of his front teeth which you pinpointed to be the reason you thought he might look like a bunny. He had a strong nose, pretty eyelashes and a freckle right under his slightly cracked lips. Not only was he cute but actually very handsome.

"I hope you bet better soon so I get to hear why you were out there in the rain like that. I'm kind of curious. Anyway, I better get to bed. I'll see you in the morning bunny boy." You said hoping he was too out of it to actually hear you before you stood and walked off towards your room.

You didn't know whether to close and lock your bedroom door or not. On one hand he was a stranger and might panic with waking up in an unknown place. But then again, what if he woke up and needed you for something or got worse in the middle of the night?

You decided to close it but leave it unlocked.

You didn't hear the footsteps throughout the house, but what woke you up was the doorknob to your room turning and the door squeaking open.

You sat up in bed disoriented for a moment but as you looked towards your door you gasped. There was a figure standing in the doorway not very well lit by the very beginning of sunrise filtering through the curtains in your bedroom.

The figure audibly gasped too.

As you looked at it for a split second longer, you remembered.

"Are- are you finally awake?" You muttered and started getting out of bed but the guy quickly took off running.

"Wait!" You called after him and raced from your bed to chase him, your feet pattered fast but still tiredly against the wood floor.

There was more light in the living room and you watched as he stood in the middle of it looking around with wide eyes like a trapped wild deer, pink pyjama pants and abs on full display.

"Its okay." You said reassuringly as you crept towards him hoping he wouldn't take off again or fight you. Your arms were out, palms facing him as if to let him know you meant no harm. "You're probably scared and I would be too. I found you nearly dead in an alley." You tried to explain but he began coughing hard again and you winced practically feeling the pain of the strength of it shaking his muscular body.

He let you tiptoe close enough to guide him by the shoulders back to the sofa and set him down. His smooth skin was beginning to feel overly warm again.

"Do you want me to get you a drink? Are you hungry?"

He just looked up at you with big brown doe eyes as you awaited his response.

"I'll- I'll just get you something anyway." You decided after a moment.

As you scoured your refrigerator, you couldn't help but think about how odd he seemed. Was he so sick he lost his voice? Maybe he was deaf? Maybe he was just scared and thought you kidnapped him?

You thought that if he thought you had kidnapped him or something wouldn't he have left already instead of waking you up? Not to mention with muscles like that he could definitely take you in a fight.

You doubted he saw you as a threat, he was just confused.

You made breakfast of pancakes for the both of you.

Juggling two plates, two glasses of milk and a bottle of syrup you went back into the living room to see him waiting patiently for you on the sofa.

You were honestly surprised he didn't just sneak away while you were cooking, you probably would've.

You handed him his food and sat down with him to see him just staring down at his plate.

"Do you not like pancakes? Is it weird I'm feeding you?" You questioned and when you spoke he looked at you with those big confused brown eyes, but he never responded.

You shrugged it off and put syrup on your pancakes before digging in.

You became very aware he was just sitting there watching you eat.

"You should eat. I promise they're good." You urged.

He picked up a pancake from the stack with his hands and with no syrup, just crammed the whole thing into his mouth.

At least he was eating now.

His cheeks comically bulged as he chewed and you'd be laughing if you didn't think that something just wasn't right again. No, it would be borderline wrong to laugh, he didn't look to be joking to you.

You had a feeling he could hear, just maybe not talk. Maybe he was mute?

You decided to test that theory later but to try not to stress him too much now. It was a miracle he was letting you even sit this close to him with how he had dashed away from you when you had woken up.

You didn't know what you were going to do with him, it was still raining outside and he had still been coughing all morning. You couldn't just release him back out into the rain, unless he wanted to go that is.

Who knows what had happened to him anyway. He was definitely a strange one.

You watched him still shoving food into his mouth with his hand and ignoring the utensils that you had provided.

You picked up your glass and took a drink with him eyeing you with this new movement. He then picked up his glass and tipped it to his face too sharply making the milk splash out from the sides and onto his face and down his bare chest.

"Oh!" You were surprised by the milk now dripping off his chin. He looked confused covered in the milk and seemed to be looking like he was wondering where he went wrong.

You felt so sympathetic towards him and you wanted to tell him it was okay and just an accident as he looked from the glass of milk back to you, but you didn't think he'd understand.

You patiently took the glass from him and set it on the coffee table before taking both empty plates to the kitchen and returning with paper towels.

You tried to hand him the paper towels so he could clean himself but he just looked at them in your hand.

You sighed and crouched down in front of him, wiping at the milk on his face and felt yourself blush as you cleaned his chest.

"All better." You looked up at him with a smile and you were surprised when he copied yours.

Your heart fluttered, it was sweet.

You quickly stood to your feet and he let out another harsh cough as you discarded the paper towel.

He picked back up the glass of milk and tried to take another drink only for him to spill it on himself again.

You sighed before going to get more paper towels and this time kept the whole roll in the room for any more accidents.

For most of the day you stayed in the living room getting some work done on your laptop while he watched whatever you had turned on for him.

He looked pretty into the drama show, just gazing at the screen with his mouth slightly parted.

You began to think about what to do with him when he got to feeling better. He obviously couldn't talk for whatever reason and doing basic everyday things were hard for him. Maybe he was mentally disabled?

You finally decided upon taking him to the police station when he got to feeling a bit better and when the weather improved.

You watched as he tilted his head at the screen as he watched a dying man in his bed with a woman taking care of him, refusing to leave his side.

"Noona, why do you care for me so much? You need to go out and live your life, not spend it on me. I'm dying, and you've done enough. Forget about me, be free." The actor said dramatically.

"I can't! I would never! I will be here until you pass. I love you!" Tears streamed down her pretty face.

He looked so enthralled in the show, did he understand what they were saying?

There was a knock at my door making the still shirtless guy jump in his seat a little and look at it with wide eyes of surprise.

I closed my laptop and got up to answer it.

"Hey!" You perked up upon seeing Jimin's lovely face.

"Hey, you never text me last night so-"

He caught a glimpse at the man on my sofa behind me.

"Oh. You're busy. I'm sorry, I'll just-"

"No! No no! That's um... that's just my cousin. He decided to make a surprise visit from Busan last night. That's why I forgot to text you."

Jimin eyed the guy in the pink pyjama bottoms. "Hey" Jimin waved to him with a friendly smile, but Jungkook didn't return it, he just looked at him with indifference.

You wondered for a split second if Jimin knew sign language before deciding against that specific lie.

"He's- hes uhh..." you leaned in and lowered your voice so only Jimin could hear. "He's special needs."

"Ohhhhh." Jimin let out along with a nod of understanding. "Well its nice you're caring for him right now. Well when does he go back to Busan?"

"Uh soon. Soon. My aunt should come get him." It was a lie, but you didn't know what else to say.

"Well text me and we can just reschedule, alright?"

You nodded.

"See you soon then." He gave a little wave.

After you closed the door you turned to look at the man on your sofa in the pink pajama bottoms with dried milk still on them.

You had to get him to get dressed... somehow.

Thankfully he was able to do so himself but unfortunately decided to do so right there in front of you when you had handed him his now clean, dry clothes he had come here in.

But at least thankfully he could go to the bathroom on his own and did so as he pleased.

He mostly just watched dramas the whole day and when you went to make some dinner he followed and just sat down on the kitchen floor and watched you like a hungry puppy.

You idly chatted to him as you cooked but of course he never responded.

"What should I call you? You won't tell me your name. You thought for a moment as you looked at him.

"I guess I'll just call you Bunny for now until I can get you to the police station and see if anyone's looking for you."

"I wonder how old you are, twenty two? Twenty three?" You now asked "I'm twenty four, you can't be too far off from my age."

When you were done you sat him at the table and you sat on the other side.

You went the extra mile and made sure his noodles were cooled just in case before setting them down in front of him.

He went to reach into the bowl with his hands. Though they weren't hot, you still felt like it was important to teach him the proper way to eat.

"Bunny, Bunny, no." Your voice stopped him. You picked up and handed him his chopsticks which he struggled with like a hard level puzzle before you saw it best to get him a fork which he still struggled with but not nearly as badly.

You had put a straw in his cup too this time and one in your own to show him how to drink from it.

It made you think about how was he eating and surviving before? How did he not know how to eat and drink but he could change himself and go to the bathroom? Did whoever care for him before feed him themselves?

"So you really like those dramas, huh?"

He glanced at you before going back to eating. "Have you always liked them?" Of course you got no response again but he did acknowledge my voice and you knew he could hear the dramas he had been watching because sometimes he would respond to what they were saying with a head tilt. He wasn't deaf, you were positive now. But did he know what you were saying?

"Bunny." You waited a moment and tested him. He looked up at you. Did he understand this was what you were calling him? He looked at you expectantly for a moment before going back to his food once again.

Okay so you figured he was smart enough to learn his nickname already.

"Bunny." You waited once more and repeated for the entertainment and to be sure. You could only smile not only as he looked at you again, but put down his fork to show you you had his attention.

"Well I guess that name stuck pretty well. How did you get it so fast? Do you understand what I'm saying?" You asked and he just looked at you before his eyes shifted around the room.

He eventually went back to eating,

You went back to your food too thinking you might be confusing him with all this testing.

After dinner he went right back to watching his dramas. When you finished working you decided you wanted to watch a movie. You thought you might scream if you were forced to over hear another over reacted out episode of whatever drama had captured his attention so much.

"Can I have the remote Bunny? You've been watching your shows all day." You held out your hand for the remote he was clutching tightly. He looked at your hand and high-fived you.

You rolled your eyes.

"No the remote." You pointed at it. He looked down at it and clutched it to his chest.

"I understand you're a guest, but I'd really like to have a turn before bed." You said and went to grab it and he jerked it away from your grasp.

"Bunny! I want to watch tv!" You almost yelled at him. He made a discontented noise of objection.

"Please?" A heavy sigh came from your chest. You were attempting to hold out on the verge of getting upset with him again. He pouted but placed the remote in your hand and looked to sulk about it.

You felt bad about it only seconds later, but this was your house, and you were so use to living alone and not having anyone to have to share things with. You really were on the verge of loosing it with all those dramas.

You flopped down next to him on the sofa and flipped through the stations until you settled on a zombie movie just getting good.

He gasped and stared wide eyed at the creatures on the screen.

When someone started to get eaten he began to yell loudly and scramble for you.

"Hey! Hey! It's okay! Its alright, Bunny!"  You comforted as he attached himself to your arm. He yelled every time there was a scary moment so you just turned it back to his dramas in defeat. Had something happened to him maybe? You had noticed he seemed so anxious all the time.

Not long after you switched the tv back to what he wanted, there was a knocking on the door making him squeal and jump in his seat again dramatically.

As you stood to answer it and he clutched onto the blankets on the sofa for dear life.

"Uhhh hey." Yoongi stood outside my door rubbing his neck.

"I heard some yelling and I wasn't asleep yet but are you okay?" He asked and I watched as his eyes flicked to Bunny on the sofa the back to me.

"Yeah, someone was just getting a bit scared. I- uh-"

He gave me a strange look.

"So your boyfriend was the one making all that noise?"

"He's not my- I don't even-" you didn't know how to explain it. "You have a second?" You asked and he gave you a confused look but nodded.

"Stay here Bunny. I'm not leaving." You told the man on the sofa before stepping out into the hall and closing your apartment door behind you.

Yoongi was probably going to judge you and you knew it already, but you needed advice and it was better than asking your crush.

"I don't know him." You whispered.

His eyebrows shot up.

"What do you mean you don't know him? Why is some random guy you don't know in your apartment?" He was rightfully a bit shocked and you began to explain to him the story making him sigh once you were done.

"So he's like special needs and you felt bad? He could be violent for all you know. Why haven't you been to the police? Was it just because the rain and him being sick?" He was obviously trying to understand.

"I don't know but its supposed to be nice tomorrow, I'm taking him then. I don't know, but he acts like he didn't even know how to eat." You told him and watch his brows lift in shock once more.

"I'm kind of scared to find out where he was from, what if they didn't treat him so well? You know? What if something traumatic happened to him."

"Why do you care so much? You don't know him." Yoongi said rather bluntly but you shrugged.

"I just do I guess. I care about a lot of stupid stuff."

"I noticed." He muttered. "Listen, you can't just keep him though like a pet, hes probably got family. Taking him to the police station is the right thing to do."

"Yeah, I know."

"Well let me know how it turns out."

"Oh! If you see Jimin from downstairs in 3A and he brings up my cousin from Busan just... I told him... I had to lie. This is kind of a weird situation, you know?"

"Why would you care enough to make up a lie about it?" Yoongi scoffed.

"I- I just kind of like him so..." You admitted as you fiddled with your fingers. "Anyway, thanks for the advice and understanding."

"Yeah, if you need help with anything or whatever I guess... like I just live right there. Or like if he decides to go full crazy and hack you up tonight or something..."

"Uhh thanks?" You furrowed your brows trying not yo imagine that scenario.

"Yeah. I'll see you later. Good luck with uh, him." He said and he walked back off next door.

There was a knock from the inside of apartment and you opened the door to see Bunny standing on the other side. You headed back in locking it back up behind you.

After a little bit he looked to be nodding off on the sofa so you left the tv on and headed to bed.

Once you got into bed though Yoongi's dark words about Bunny hacking you up played in your head.

You decided that if the stranger wanted to kill you already he probably would've, not to mention he couldn't even drink from a cup properly let alone possibly murder someone. To you Bunny seemed kind, he had big, gentle eyes, a warm smile and the cutest teeth you had ever seen, and that's what reassured you enough to sleep.

"Noona?" You were startled awake in your pitch dark room.

"Noona."

You had never heard the voice before but it was soft and sweet.

Who was this noona? Was this the sound of Bunny still watching tv?

Why did the voice sound like it was in the room with you?

"Noona." You looked around to see Bunny standing just feet from your bed.

Was he speaking?

You couldn't understand for a moment and just looked at the dark silhouette, unable to see his face.

His voice was so sweet, soft and gentle like a breeze.

You attempted to shake off your awe struck demeanor to get back to the fact he was waking you up for some reason.

"What is it? What's wrong?" You pushed your blankets off you and sat up in concern.

He took a gentle hold of your arm with his warm hands large enough to completely encircle your wrist, and led you from your bed and off through your apartment.

[crystalgirl259]

Wolves Of Secrets Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Lone Wolf

Dark was the night as the full moon shined over the great city of Ninjago. The cold, misty wind whistled through the city as the citizens went about their own business, either going home to be with their families for the rest of the evening or to their evening jobs. The city of Ninjago was built on the sunny side of a gentle mountain and was truly a beautiful place. Its grace was only matched by the backdrop of lush, green forests which have helped shape the ancient city to what it was today.

The city had a very clear Japan, Tokyo feeling too it.

The city's skyline was growing with stylish skyscrapers and they each represented the many different aspects of the sizeable city. Businesses were booming in Ninjago and it had attracted a lot of attention. A few new cultures had left their mark not just on education, but also upon the city's identity. What historically was a city of predictability has grown into a new culture of variety and it's this that united the nearly 6 million people to this day.

It's this multicultural identity that had truly left its mark.

Hundreds of gastropubs, bakeries, and clubs offer a plethora of culinary choices. Those who felt hungry for something else could enjoy art galleries, musical activities, photography, or one of the many other recreational activities. Just outside the main city area, right on the edge of the dark forest, stood a large, lone house. In this house was a very special family. From the outside, this house looked cosy. It had been built many, many years ago with white bricks and had spruce wooden decorations.

Small, half-rounded windows added to the overall style of the house and had been added to the house in a fairly asymmetrical pattern.

The house was equipped with a large kitchen, two bathrooms, and three bedrooms. It also had a large living room, four bedrooms, a roomy dining room, a garage, and a large basement. The roof was high and slanted to one side and was covered with black ceramic tiles with a small chimney. Many smaller windows let in plenty of light to the rooms below the roof. The house itself was surrounded by quite a modest garden, with mostly grass, a few colourful flower patches, and a small shed at the other end of the garden.

Inside the house, a young teenage boy sat on the couch, eating popcorn and watching a movie.

This was Lloyd Garmadon. He had long, blonde tousled hair, and brown arched eyebrows with bright emerald green eyes that many people would state could sometimes glow in the dark. He wore a dark green jacket with a white t-shirt and black pants and black and dark green sneakers. As the clock was about to strike midnight, Lloyd was about to turn the boring movie off when suddenly with was a rustling sound outside. Fearing the worst, he quickly switched off the TV, grabbed his coat, and ran outside.

As soon as he stepped out into the cold night, however, instead of the rustling he had heard mere seconds before, all he could hear was an owl hooting nearby and the wind howling through the trees.

He was about to go back inside when all of a sudden he heard a loud crash from the other side of the house. He quickly ran towards the sound and was shocked by what he saw. He saw a full-grown, grey timber wolf sniffing around some turned over trash cans, snacking at the rancid chicken meat. He looked to the steel doors to the basement and was horrified to see another wolf attempting to jump out. As soon as the grey wolf sensed him, it slowing turned around to face the teen with a low growl, baring its sharp teeth.

Lloyd, however, was completely unfazed by this and he simply stood up straight.

"Get back inside!" He roared, startling the wolf for a second before it crouched down and started snarling louder. Instead of running away, however, Lloyd simply lowered onto his knees and bared his blunt teeth at the wolf. His emerald green eyes suddenly turned to a stunning gold that shined in the dark. The teen and the wolf snarled at each other as Lloyd slowly crawled forward, making the wolf back up. The grey wolf suddenly yelped as it fell back into the dark cellar.

Lloyd's eyes returned to their normal color as he stood up and looked into the dark pit.

Suddenly one of the wolves jumped up and bit into his thick coat's sleeve, ripping it off as the wolf fell back down. Not missing a beat, Lloyd quickly closed and locked the cellar doors, looking at the full moon as the wolves muffled howls sounding into the night...

****************

The next morning, as the rain came pouring down, Lloyd quickly got dressed and ran down to the cellar. He loudly slid the iron door open and stepped inside where he saw his mother Misako and his uncle Wu slowly getting to their feet as the finished getting dressed. His mother had ash grey hair braid into a ponytail with a snowy white streak and pale green eyes. She wore a pale khaki utility jacket with dark brown pants and a short, dark green scarf.

Wu was an elderly man with a long white beard.

He was wearing white robes and a conical straw hat. They both yawned and stretched as Lloyd glared daggers at them.

"I think that chicken was off." Misako gagged as she clutched her stomach.

"I can't believe you two." Lloyd glared Breaking out and raiding the bins."

"Oh, Lloyd!" She cried as she rushed forward and examined his arm. "I am so sorry! I didn't break the skin, did I?! Does it need stitches?!" She panicked, but he pulled his arm away from him.

"You always say how I have to stay hidden from humans and never give in to our wolves." He growled as they walked back upstairs to the kitchen. "Yet the moment you get a chance, you're out of the cellar and away!"

"You don't understand how powerful the pull of the full moon is," Wu explained. "When you're old enough to take wolf form-"

"I won't be a hypocrite, who says stay hidden and then breaks out at the first whiff of food!" He replied and turned to his mother with a slightly disgusted look. "And that chicken..."

"Actually, your mother's not the only one who's been eating things she shouldn't, is she?" Wu frowned as he opened the trash can to reveal the leftover popcorn.

"Yes, and you were still dressed when you came outside, young man." Smiled Misako when her son froze. "Didn't we agree in bed at 10 on school nights?"

"I'm going to miss the bus." He quickly said and ran for the front door. When he made to grab his coat, however, he let out a long sighed when he saw the missing sleeve...

****************

Lloyd blushed furiously as he kept his eyes on the school floor as the other students stared and laughed at his soaked clothes. He let out a small growl as he shivered; his mother owed him a new coat.

"Hey, Lloyd!" A voice called out and he looked up to see his friends Zane Jullien, Jay Walker, Kai Smith, Nya Smith, and Cole Brookstone stood by their lockers, waiting for him.

Jay reddish-brown curly hair with brown eyebrows and light freckles with dark blue eyes. He wore a blue jacket with a white stripe over a white t-shirt and blue pants with an orange wooly scarf.

Zane had platinum blonde, almost white, hair that stood up straight in something like a crew cut and bright icy blue eyes. He wore white pants and shoes with a long-sleeved, cyan blue shirt under a navy blue knitted vest.

Kai had tall, thick spiky brown hair, shaped like fire and bright amber eyes that shined like burning embers. He had a focused expression on his face, with a scar visible on his right eyebrow and bandage above his left. He wore a red half-zipped-up jacket over a white shirt with some kind of Japanese symbol on the back of the jacket and brown pants.

Nya was Kai's younger sister who had long black hair kept in a ponytail, pale pink lipstick, small dimples on her cheeks with dark brown eyes, and she had a beauty mark on her right cheek. She was wearing a leather jacket over a white shirt with blue stripes and dark blue torn jeans.

Cole had a very muscular body, being the strongest kid in the whole school, with long, shaggy black hair and bushy eyebrows with very dark green eyes that reminded Lloyd of cold emerald stones. He wore a black leather jacket and pants with a dark brown tank top and black heavy-duty boots.

Lloyd smiled as he walked over to them. They were the only people who could possibly understand the struggles he faced every day as a teenage werewolf; because so were they. Well... sort of anyway. Only he and Nya had yet to transform on a full moon, but they knew it could happen any month now and they were both nervous and excited.

"What happened to you?" Jay asked when they saw he was dripping water into the hallways.

"My coat got eaten by werewolves." He deadpanned.

"Don't you start too." Kai groaned.

"We've already had this from... Oh, Pixel!" Nya suddenly smiled as the said girl walked over to them. Pixel had pale, almost white, skin with wide lips and bright green eyes. Her hair was styled like Nya's and was a very light platinum blonde. She had a purple dress with red details and an opening in her left arm that showed a part of her chest, and red heels. Lloyd simply smiled and rolled his eyes. Pixel Borg was the only one in their friend group that wasn't a werewolf.

She was a very good friend to them, mostly to Zane, since childhood and it hurt them they couldn't share their secret with her.

"Did you hear last night in the forest?" She asked with a big smile on her face, but they all shrugged. "Howling." She replied and they froze as she pulled out her cell phone. "Here, look what I found on Carper's Lane this morning." She explained as she showed them a picture of a paw print in the mud. "I'm going to compare it to paw-print photos of different dogs."

"What, every type of dog?" Cole scoffed.

"This is proof." She insisted. "Proof that there's something weird over there in the forest."

"Pix, if your father found out that you snuck off into the forest in the middle of the night again he wouldn't be too pleased," Zane warned.

"If I can prove there is some kind of undiscovered creature in the forest then that alone would guarantee my scholarship into Horizon Academy."

"You know your father could pull some strings and get you in there no problem." Jay pointed out.

"I know, but I want to earn my spot and my father understands and respects that." She explained.

"Hey, Pixel!" One of the cheerleaders, Maggie, suddenly called out. "I saw something weird in the forest, you!"

"Haven't you got hair-curlers to play with or something?" Nya snapped before she and her friends quickly walked away.

"I really need to start my research, I'll catch up with you all later." Pixel smiled before she made a beeline for the library; as soon as she was out of sight, Nya suddenly grabbed the boys and shoved them into a nearby janitor's closet.

"Alright, who was it?" She glared.

"Wasn't me!" Jay exclaimed fearfully and the rest quickly denied it as well. Lloyd eyed each of them carefully. It could only have been Cole, Kai, or Zane; they were the only ones who spent the full moon on Zane's father's property deep in the forest. Since she couldn't transform yet Nya stayed in their apartment in the city and Jay spent it on her parents' junkyard on the other side of the city. The only problem was that Dr. Jullien's home was far from where Pixel said she found the paw prints.

He also knew the guys wouldn't go near the city, full moon or not.

"Maybe it wasn't one of us," Lloyd suggested. "My mom managed to get out the cellar last night and when I got them back in they started howling, and that paw print could have come from a normal dog."

"I suppose." She sighed when the bell suddenly rang; the group sighed as they made their way to their first classes. Lloyd quickly ran to his locker to get some of his textbooks when he suddenly caught the scent of something odd. It was a new scent, meaning whoever it belonged to was here very recently. He was about to follow the scent when he walked right into one of his teachers, Miss Koko. She had bright orange hair with amber eyes.

She wore orange lipstick and a pale brown suit.

"Lloyd, what are you doing? It's time for class." She ordered and Lloyd quickly scurried to his first class, making a mental note to investigate the scent later...

****************

As soon as Lloyd ran into the classroom he immediately took his seat next to Jay. This was one of the few classes he and all his friends had together. As soon as he took his seat a teacher he hadn't seen before walked in with a big smile on his face.

She had greying brown hair tied in a bun and a dark blue dress.

"Welcome aboard students! My name is Ms. Laudita and I'm your new Social Studies teacher," She smiled as a student stepped into the room. "Everyone! This is Morro Ren, he's new here so I hope you'll all make sure he feels welcome." She explained and Lloyd was suddenly hit with the same smell from before. He looked up and saw the new kid eyeing them all cautiously. Lloyd quickly looked to the others and saw they had realized the same thing as him.

Morro Ren possessed long jet black hair with a dark green streak dyed in it and dark brown eyes.

He was wearing a pale green shirt with torn brown pants and black boots. As he moved to take a seat at the back of the class, he and Lloyd glared each other down without a word. The class continued as normal until the bell rang and Morro all but ran out, Lloyd and the others following close behind. As soon as Morro stepped into an empty stairwell Kai and Cole blocked his path.

"What are you doing here?" Nya growled.

"What?" The new kid asked, confusion clear on his face. "I'm looking for-

"No, here! On our territory!" Jay exclaimed.

"Do you not know the rules?" Zane asked.

"You can't stay here." Kai huffed.

"If my mom and uncle get a sniff of you-"

"I don't even know you!" Morro snapped as he took deep breaths.

"Exactly!" Lloyd exclaimed in frustration.

"I don't care whose territory this is; I'm not sticking around anyway, and why would I in this dump?" He sarcastically asked. "No smelly brats tell me whether to stay or go." He stated before shoving passed Kai and Cole and running down the stairs...

****************

Later that day everyone was sat at their usual table in the cafeteria, enjoying their lunches. When Pixel and Dareth had joined them, Zane had explained what had happened with Morro when Pixel asked why they were all in a sour mood; leaving out some key details of course.

"We're not smelly!" Cole hissed angrily as he devoured a large slice of cake.

"Well, except for Jay." Kai shrugged absently, getting a hurt cry from the said boy and a kick from Nya.

"You did kind of start it." Pointed out Pixel.

"No, we didn't." Nya defended.

"Someone must know something about him or his family." Suggested Zane. "Seen moving vans, something." He added as a member of Kai's soccer team, Chad, walked over to their table.

"Hey, Kai, are you going to ask the new kid to try out?" He asked though it sounded more like an order.

"I don't think he's the right sort for the team." He replied, keeping his eyes on his food.

"Fine, I'll ask." Chad huffed and walked over to Morro's empty table.

"Wait." Cole gasped but it was too late.

"Relax guys, he won't bite." Pixel frowned at their behavior and the group shared nervous looks. They turned back to Chad and Morro when the new kid suddenly got up and right into a startled Chad's face.

"I don't like soccer and I don't want to hang around with you and your weirdo friend! You got that?!" He roared, sending a pointed look at Kai and everyone sat at the table.

"Obviously, they don't teach manners where he's from." Nya glared as Chad speed walked over to them on shaking legs.

"Next time, you need to approach the weird kid." He hissed to Kai as the cheerleaders suddenly pushed passed them and over to Morro's table, completely looking over the way he had just spoken to Chad. Before the new kid could escape, a blonde cheerleader named Harumi Jade took a seat next to him and practically curled around his arm, much to his disgust. Harumi had long white hair with long bangs fashioned in a bun with chopsticks.

She wore a green jacket with matching pants, a white shirt with red lotus flowers, and full lips painted red.

"Hey cutie, since you've only just got here the principle thought it would be a good idea for someone to show you around, and we know everything about this school; all the best clubs and people to hang out with." She explained as she flashed him a big smile.

"Those weird kids, who're they?" He asked as he pointed over to Lloyd's table, where they were still watching him.

"Oh, that's just Lloyd Garmaddon, Pixel Borg, Zane Jullien, Jay Walker, Kai Smith, Nya Smith, and Cole Brookstone." One of the cheerleaders happily said, only to cower away at Harumi's glare.

"Their families have lived here for centuries." She quickly dismissed. "Never leave the area, don't like strangers or questions."

"They're all cuckoo!" Another cheerleader added.

"What are we talking about them for? Let's talk about you." Harumi smiled as she leaned closer, only to gasp when Morro suddenly stood up, grabbed his bag, and stormed off, leaving a furious Harumi and a dumbfounded Lloyd behind...

****************

After an awkward lunch, with Harumi and Chad and their groups giving them the stink eye, Lloyd and the others finally had had enough and went to their lockers to get their stuff for their next class.

"Are you guys joining us on Miss Jinro's forest stakeout?" Zane asked hopefully.

"It's open to anyone but is part of the ninth grade syllabus so all freshmen have to go," Pixel added with a smile. The others just rolled their eyes and chuckled, only to stop when Cole suddenly froze right in front of them. They looked over the taller teen's shoulder and were irritated to see Morro looking through his own locker from something.

That wouldn't have been a problem if it wasn't for the fact that his locker was right next to theirs.

Before they could do anything, however, Chad and his gang pushed them and 'accidentally' knocked into Morro, causing him to drop his bag and pieces of vegetables to come flying out. To say he was still sore about what Morro did in the cafeteria was an understatement.

"I thought I smelled something funny," Chad smirked as his gang laughed. "Is that your snack, freak?"

"Piss off," Morro growled. Unfortunately, this only made Chad angrier as he marched over to the new kid and violently shoved him into the lockers.

"Got a problem?!" He challenged, failing to see the veins on Morro's hands darkening as he bared his teeth. Before anyone could even blink, Morro suddenly jumped up, almost as high as the lockers, and pounced on the bully, sending them both to the ground. Feeling their stomachs dropping, Lloyd and his friends didn't miss a beat as they ran to stop the fight before any serious damage was done.

Kai and Cole managed to rip a snarling Morro off Chad while Pixel and Jay checked on the jock to make sure he was uninjured.

Quickly, Nya and Lloyd pushed the new kid into an empty art classroom just as Miss. Koko burst through the crowd of onlookers.

"What on Earth is going on here?" She glared as Zane, Cole, and Kai leaned against the door to the classroom, and Jay and Pixel helped Chad to his feet. Meanwhile, in the classroom, Nya and Lloyd mirrored their friends leaning against the door as Morro curled up on the ground, gasping for breath.

"What are you doing?" He cried out between breaths. "Get out!"

"Just breathe." Lloyd tried to reassure but Morro started growling as he backed further away.

"You have to get out!" He screamed as the veins in his face and neck started turning dark and his brown eyes turning a stunning yellow. Realizing it was too late now, Morro slowly looked up at them with a defeated look in his eyes. "I'm so sorry." He whimpered before he erupted into growls. Nya and Lloyd could only watch as his body shrunk and rearranged itself.

His clothes fell off his body as his skin was replaced with thick dark brown fur.

His face stretched out into a muzzle as his blunt human teeth sharpened. Once it was over, Morro slowly stood back up, but instead of a human, a full-grown timber wolf looked back at them. He snarled at the two teenagers before he suddenly started running around the room and on the tables, knocking several art supplies onto the floor.

"Morro!" Nya shouted and the wolf jumped down and snarled at them again.

Slowly, both teens knelt down to the floor with their heads down; when they did raise their heads they revealed their own bright yellow eyes, causing the wolf to freeze. He stared at them for a few moments before relaxing and lying down on the floor. Unfortunately, things weren't going so well outside the classroom for the others.

"He's crazy!" Chad cried as he finished telling his side of the story to Koko.

"You started it!" Pixel exclaimed.

"And where is Morro?" She asked but everyone just shrugged and looked around, still leaning against the door. "I'll catch up with him later; you two, follow me." She sighed as she led Pixel, Chad, and his group away. The friends waited until the crowd of students finally disappeared before they quickly ran into the classroom; only to find a human Morro putting his shirt on as Nya and Lloyd picked up all the items he had knocked over.

"I knew there was something about you guys." Morro smiled like a child on Christmas Day. "It's true, isn't it? You're all like me!"

"We're not like you!" Cole quickly said, a look of rage on his face, causing Morro's smile to drop.

"Yeah, we don't show off and pick fights and invades other packs' territory." Kai hissed.

"You're a danger to us all and the sooner you leave, the better," Nya added when all of a sudden the door to the classroom opened and one of the teachers walked in, only to freeze when he saw the state of the classroom.

"What happened here?" The teacher asked in shock. Morro simply huffed in annoyance as he pushed passed the stunned teacher and stormed down the hall and out of sight. They just let him go. Lloyd wanted to chase after him but he knew the others were right; Morro didn't belong here...

****************

After school, the gang went to their favorite hangout, the Yin & Yang Bistro, to gather their thoughts. They would have gone to Wu's tea shop, Steep Wisdom, but they didn't want Lloyd's uncle to listen in on their conversation. Alas, instead of a quiet place for them to discuss what they had witnessed as they had hoped, the gang had to watch as Miss Jinro's forest stakeout class met at the cafe to prepare.

"Apologies, students." She sighed as the class started to get impatient. "We're waiting for the last few stragglers to show and then we go."

"Ya've got five more minutes unless yer buying somethin'" The cafe owner, Mr. Burke, grumbled from the counter.

"I still think we should tell someone, you know," Jay whispered.

"Yeah, let's tell Mom and Uncle Wu that a strange werewolf just showed up at our school and trashed a classroom after trying to attack a student." Lloyd laughed bitterly.

"To be fair who hasn't wanted to kick Chad's ass." Kai snicked, only to yelp when his sister kicked him under the table.

"This isn't a joke Kai." She hissed as Pixel and Zane walked over to them.

"Are you coming to the forest walk too?" Zane kindly asked.

"Pass," Cole said as the rest scrambled for excuses. Just when they thought their day couldn't get any worse, however, Harumi and her army of cheerleaders suddenly walked in and scanned the room.

"Hey, Burke, has Morro been here?" She asked sweetly.

"Who?"

"He's this tall and dreamy and he beat the crap out of Chad."

"Ah, the Dobsons' new foster kid." Burke laughed and the gang paled.

"M-Morro's in foster care?" Zane asked.

"Yeah, must have been a bad boy ta get moved all tha way up here for a fresh start."

"He's an orphan?" Cole gasped as a look of shame on his face, hard with the others.

"Most foster children have parents somewhere." Pixel stated. "He was probably moved up by Social Services so he to get away from them." She added and Lloyd's stomach dropped in horror. Morro was probably all alone in the world, stuck in a strange place, with no-one to turn to; trying to make it in the world all alone and he and when he does meet another one of his own kind they reject him. Before anyone could say another word, Lloyd, Cole, Jay, and Kai ran out of the bistro, leaving everyone in a stunned and confused silence...

****************

The four teenage boys spent the better part of half an hour tracking the new kid all over the entire city until they followed his scent to the forest at the edge of the city. The giant forest was tremendous, gloomy, and lush. Its canopy was ruled by willow, oak, walnut, and cottonwood, who let through enough dancing beams of sunshine for a hodgepodge of sprouts to rule the insect riddled soils below. Many people were too scared to enter.

Only nature lovers, hikers, and the occasional dog walker ever went in the forest.

Coiling branches clung to many a tree, and a potpourri of flowers, which desperately tried to avoid the shadows, spruced up the otherwise homogeneous scenery. A mixture of beastly sounds, most belonged to foraging animals, added life to the forest, and were out of sync with the sound of the wind blowing gently through the forest. Many normal humans had gotten lost in the dense green world, but Lloyd and the others knew this place like the back of their hands.

They decided to split up, hoping to cover more ground.

Jay and Lloyd went to search closer to the road while Cole and Kai went deeper into the forest. As they walked along the empty road, Lloyd suddenly grabbed his friend's arm and pointed further up the road where they saw Morro Ren walking along the edge of the road, his head down. They knew must have smelled or heard them, so he was simply ignoring them.

"Morro!" Lloyd shouted as they ran to catch up to him.

"Don't worry, I'm out of here." He growled, still looking at his feet as he picked up the pace.

"Please don't! We're sorry, don't go, we can help you." Jay pleaded.

"Help?" He scoffed. "I've had help; counseling and other stupid shit."

"You need to learn to control your wolf self before someone gets hurt... probably you," Lloyd explained, only for them both to jump when Morro suddenly turned around and glared daggers at them

"You're just like the rest of them!" He snarled.

"We know about the Dobsons," Jay replied in a trembling voice. "We know you're alone."

"So?"

"We're like you, you saw that." Lloyd tried to reassure, only for the new kid to shove them away.

"You might like me, you think the same as them!" He snapped. "You're just trying to make me better; but, you know what? What I am, what I turn into, that is way better!" He roared with a big grin on his face. "It's better than anything I've ever known and I'm not letting anyone take that away from me!"

"We're not gonna let you do this," Lloyd warned.

"Go ahead, stop me!" He jeered with a cruel laugh. "Use your wolfy powers and see how long it takes for someone to find out what you are; because no one at school knows your little secret, do they?" He asked and they looked away, their thoughts drifting to Pixel for a brief second. "I thought not; I've got nothing to lose here, unlike you." He smirked before taking off into the forest at full speed.

"Hey!" Jay cried as they chased after him.

"Stop!" Lloyd called as he disappeared into the trees. If they hadn't been werewolves Lloyd and Jay might have lost him, if not for their incredible sense of smell, or Morro's cheap cologne. They quickly tracked him down and before the smug kid could even blink he was tackled by them both. They all cried out and grunted as they rolled down the hill and crashed into the dirt trail. After they managed to untangle themselves, Lloyd was shocked to see Pixel and Zane standing in the middle of the trail with Miss Jinro's forest stakeout class.

Seconds later Kai and Cole came running over the hill and into the awkward tension.

"Sorry, we're late, everyone." Kai weakly chuckled. "Seen any squirrels yet?"

"No, you lot have scared off every animal for miles." Miss Jinro glared before turning to the group of students. "I'm sorry, everyone, we'll have to come back another day." She sighed as they walked away, leaving the gang, Pixel, and Morro alone. As soon as the teacher and class were gone, Pixel glared and advanced towards the group of boys.

"Well done, guys! This was something important to me and Zane." She snapped.

"There's something important we have to do." Cole tried to explain.

"Like what?"

"Morro is more important than any club." Lloyd glared. "The thing is... Morro and I... are related?" He quickly lied, shocking everyone. "Distant cousins; he's the black sheep of the family, and I didn't want him here, so I treated him badly, which is why he lashed out and trashed the classroom."

"We don't have to be best friends, but Morro's here now," Zane added.

"OK." Jay smiled.

"Sure." Pixel sighed.

"Welcome to Ninjago." Cole smiled as he gave the new kid a firm handshake.

"You really don't like soccer?" Kai suddenly asked. Everyone stared at him for a few seconds before they all burst out laughing, Morro included...

****************

Later that evening, as the sun was starting to set, casting it's beautiful orange and shadows among the forest, instead of going home with Zane and Pixel, Lloyd and the others stayed in the forest to have a talk with Morro. There were things they needed to sort out.

"So... where you from?" Kai asked.

"My parents used to live in Stiix; they... they died when I was two," Morro mumbled, his eyes fixed at the rustling branches of the trees.

"And nobody knows what you are?" Cole asked in shock and awe when he shook his head.

"So, what did you do for the full moon last night?" Jay asked.

"I couldn't stay in my bedroom, could I?" He scoffed. "I climbed out of my window and made for the forests."

"So it was your paw-print that Pixel found!" Lloyd gasped; none of them would have been nieve enough walk so close to the city in wolf form.

"Was it your first full moon change?" Asked Cole sympathetically, knowing how scared he was for his first full moon transformation.

"Second." He replied. "The first got me kicked out of my last foster home."

"What happened?" Jay asked.

"Don't know." He shrugged. "I went to bed and woke up in a ditch naked; turns out I trashed my bedroom, so they kicked me out." He mumbled before clearing his throat and straightening up. "Anyway, what about you? I mean, full moons must be epic out here."

"Yeah, they're pretty cool." Cole shrugged.

"Well, I and Nya haven't started transforming yet." Lloyd sighed.

"So, I know more about this stuff than you do?" He laughed.

"Yeah, you're the expert." Kai laughed. "That's why you lost it with Chad in front of half the school."

"I didn't know that could happen." Morro glared. "I only thought werewolves went hairy at the full moon."

"We feel the urge to change when we feel threatened or angry too," Jay explained. "Learn to control it, and you can transform whenever you want."

"How do you know all this stuff?"

"Our parents tell us." Kai shrugged and Morro's eyes grew to the size of saucers.

"You have parents like us?" He cried.

"Well, sort of." Lloyd winced and turned the others, who all gave their nods of approval. "I live with my Mom and uncle who are like us, Kai lives his sister and his parents are werewolves too but they're usually out of town on business, Cole lives with his dad but Lou's human, Zane lives with his dad who's one of us and Jay lives with his parents, but they're both humans."

"I'm adopted but they know what I am and they don't care." Jay quickly added when he saw Morro's confused look.

"We were all born this way, you're normal." Lloyd smiled. "Everything you thought made you a freak: sight, hearing, speed, sense of smell, they're all completely normal for a werewolf; if you stay you'd have a pack, at last, people to teach you."

"So, say I did stick around, only for a bit, no promises." He quickly said when he saw the hopeful looks on their faces. "No rules, no lectures, you can keep your group hugs and your big, furry family, I'll do things my way."

"A lone wolf, huh?" Kai smirked. "I think you and I are gonna get on great."

"Next time you lose control over your wolf self, what happens then?" Cole asked.

"Well, that'll be an interesting day, won't it?" Morro smirked as he got up and walked away. Lloyd and the others shared a nervous look, worrying about what the new day would bring...

[loyally-unfaithful]

—; even if i am fooling myself, my feelings are true . (4)

word count: 5.3k

pairing: origami cyclone | ivan karelin / gn!reader

genre: hurt/comfort

summary: even if he was lying to you by pretending to be your lover, he told himself it was worth it. it made you happy. it helped you. he’s helping you. this ruse is only done in good faith. 

if it were to make you smile, if it were to help you brighten up, then all his lies and deceptions could be forgiven, he rationalised.

a/n:  this chapter do be monologue city,,,

i have arthritis i would like a refund for my bones.

the hero knows he promised to see you again the next day, but it’s been a few days now since he has last seen you. you must be back at home by now. alone. were you okay? he can’t help but feel worried about you due to your limited mobility. guilt stings even more painfully now that he had calmed down. he has virtually subjected you to a prolonged radio silence after leaving abruptly.

and he still needed to tell you the truth...

the hero had put off meeting you again, because it meant seeing you again. it meant he had to tell you the truth. it meant he’d no longer be able to meet you.

he chastised himself. what was expecting? really, what did he expect to happen? he berated himself, guilt clawing at him. what was he doing, impersonating your lover? he felt ill. he should’ve stopped meeting you after that campaign ended. but for reasons that escaped him, he continued. was it selfishness? was it greed? what pushed him to continue? whatever had happened, it wasn’t supposed to. he was just supposed to check in on you, make sure you’re getting on well, and move on in his life. he was supposed to stay neutral, indifferent, objective. you were just any other stranger that he would help throughout his career as a hero. but you had been so lovely and so unassuming that he must’ve…? without realising it, he had gotten himself too involved and was now in too deep, allowing his shameful self to form feelings for your kind and beautiful self. trying to distance himself from you to no avail, he found himself uselessly fighting feelings that have sprouted without his permission. he was fighting a losing battle, and a war that wasn’t tilting into his favour. he had hoped that these stubborn feelings would disappear, hopefully sooner rather than later, but it seemed that they refused to leave him alone.

the blond let out a harsh sigh. he’s noticed he has been doing that a lot, much more that usual. when it went well it went wonderfully, sublime; when it went badly it went awfully, dreadful.

he can’t keep going like this.

it’s not fair for you.

it’s not fair for him.

he can’t lead you on, and he can’t continue to delude himself.

each step he took to your residence were heavier than the last. listlessly, he dragged his feet. it had rained last night, making this walk even more unpleasant and gloomy. concluding what was both the slowest and fastest walk he had ever had the displeasure of taking, he lifted his gaze off of the pavement to take in your house. it was superficially identical to the other houses in the neighbourhood, but then again, houses in this district of the bronze stage often looked the same. it was a modest one-storey house, which felt anything but modest. it looked oppressive, intimidating. it terrified him. what was in store for him within those walls terrifying him further.

knowing that simply anticipating would do him no good, ivan shook his head, trying to shake his nervousness away, to no avail. he tried willing his legs to move, to get closer to your house, with no success. fixed in place, immobilised by dread. he stood idle, head turned down, in front of your home for what felt like an eternity, surprised that you hadn’t noticed the stranger in front of your property first.

he sighed.

the pathetic puddle by his feet reflected an even more pathetic him.

he stared silently at kotetsu’s reflection under him: « you’ve gotta tell them. they deserve to know. ». with a disappointed sigh, he gazed back at the small pool who gazed back with his disappointing face. he, “kotetsu”, had told himself to tell you the truth. but did he have the courage to?

no longer able to bear taylor’s silent judgement, ivan lifted his head and slowly climbed up the front steps to your front door.

the puddle, murky as it always was, remained as unbothered as it had always been.

his finger hovered over the doorbell. did he have the courage to? he bit his lips hard enough to draw blood. could he meet your eyes? momentarily retracting his hand, he resisted submitting to his anxiety and willed himself to push the bell.

ivan could hear the ringing echoing inside your walls.

and then silence.

one beat.

two beat.

then another.

were you not home?

you always had very quiet steps, he told himself. everything is ok.

his knee jerk reaction to the prolonged silence was to take it as a sign that today wasn’t the day. a message from a power above telling him that he can postpone it for another day… whenever that other day was. his usual reaction would be to take this as an opportunity to throw in the towel and go home. but for you (and for himself), he’ll fight his impulse to cower away.

but still… this silence was slightly concerning.

had something happened to you?

the hero’s mind jumped through different conclusions to rationalise your lack of response.

maybe you went out…

maybe you weren’t awake…

what if you had hurt yourself and couldn’t get bac—

he reached out to ring the doorbell yet again, but stopped halfway as the door creaked open.

« how can i help y— taylor? » you had sounded as surprised to see him as he was to you.

oh. you were ok. he breathed out in relief. you were ok.

« please, come in, you offered, moving out of the way. sorry to make you wait, i wasn’t… i wasn’t expecting to see you… sorry about the mess… you mumbled. »

the hero gulped, fighting the fear that rose up within him from hearing the door click closed behind him. he can’t run away. no going back now: he had to tell you the truth. taking his mind off of his nerves, he decided to look around and observe the interior of your house. you said “mess” but the house is more or less in order, unless you were referring to the few stacks of books that littered your house. still... he struggled to call it a mess, as the odd misplaced books here and there didn’t even feel out place within your humble abode: it blended with the other decor into the stylish deep green walls and light brown tiles. the only thing he could qualify as being messy would be the light covering of dust that was slowly gathering on some of the furniture’s surface, along with the few papers and knickknacks strewn about, but they were out of the way enough that nothing ever seemed cluttered.

to his delight, the curios have all been of japanese origins, from the hand fans (« an ōgi! » he noted excitedly.) to the rough stacks of woodblock prints (« where did they get so many ukiyo-e prints? » he asked himself.). in fact, closer inspection would suggest that quite a few of the furnishings decorating your house were japanese in nature: the tapestry hung on your wall (he was sure those were called a tenugui.), the forgotten matcha tea set on the kitchen counter (« there was even a chasen?! »), and the japanese pottery and porcelain safely tucked into a glass cupboard (he wonders if he could get the opportunity to use the hagi ware chawan amongst the set.). he had to stop himself from literally beaming in excitement and dashing to ogle the wares. who would’ve known you’d have such a collection in your house? he needed to calm down, lest he attracted your suspicion, and swallowed his bubbling elation.

he followed your lead to wherever you were walking back to, inquisitively taking in his surroundings, distracting his mind from his previous anxieties.

« i, uh… no one’s been home since i went to the hospital. you walked back towards your open living room. and i’ve kinda been putting off cleaning. you laughed. – don’t worry about it… he assured you, still taking in this unknown territory. »

briefly, he let his attention back to you and to where you walked: to your open living room, which was connected to your kitchen. further to the side, he could see the stairs that led to your suspended bedroom. it seemed that this house had more or less the same make and architecture as tiger’s apartment, though with drastically different decor, he noted. though with more than less difficulty, you managed to get around your house just fine. despite your pronounced limp you continued at a regular, albeit slowed, pace. your gait was sometimes slowed by the fact that you sometimes had to hang on some of the fittings to maintain your balance and ivan had to fight the urge to rush over and help you walk.

you probably wouldn’t like for him to encroach on your newfound autonomy, he figured.

after finally reaching the living room, you had carefully sat yourself down on the floor in front of the coffee table. noticing the crafting papers and shavings surrounding where you sat, he thoughtlessly asked: « were you making something? no wonder you took a bit to respond. i’m sorry for interrupting you... – mhm, i’m just making menko cards. you elaborated as you carefully positioned your impaired leg. and it’s alright, you couldn’t have known. – menko cards? his interest was piqued. – yeah, just thought it would be fun, you shrugged. wanna help? – sure! he answered delightedly, failing to hide the eagerness in his voice. i mean, why not… you just laughed at his childlike enthusiasm. – i’d really appreciate it you could help me cut out the picture, you asked. »

he eased himself down next to you, trying his hardest not to appear bothered by your proximity. everything is ok. he’ll help you in this last activity. because it had interested him. because he wanted to treasure the last moments he got to spend with you. the very last. he doesn’t like the finality of that, but the truth had to be said. guilt stung like an open wound whenever he remembered that he was lying to you. he wouldn’t be mad if you condemned him for “exploiting” you. if he were to tell you the truth there was no way you’d forgive him, much less continue to seek out his affection. your resentment would be well deserved, even if the thought of being disliked by you hurt him.

his despair grew as he thought of the aftermath. it would leave him heartbroken, but what about you? you would’ve been deceived, not once but twice: by both he and your former lover. he really didn’t think this decision through, did he? this was a selfish and cruel scheme to begin with. just a misguided attempt to assist someone who didn’t even asked for his assistance. he doesn’t want to doubt your resilience, but surely, if he came clean you’d be deeply saddened and devastated again… he didn’t want to be the reason you felt lost again and returned to being miserable. he didn’t want to be the cause of your melancholy, the cause of a relapse. but that was exactly what he was going to cause you, wasn’t it? he was the cause of your grief and strife.

if this ended with him broken-hearted, he’d end up shattering whatever had remained of yours and leave you inconsolable.

this was a mistake. he’d caused you more pain than solace. this was a mistake. lies and sweet words aren’t what would have saved you. they weren’t what you needed. this was a mistake.

what would he even say? a “sorry” wouldn’t suffice. not even the sincerest apology would fix this. those words would only hurt you more.

he made his bed, now he had to lay in it. if only he never roped you into this.

spirit down again, he sighed and looked upon the table to tackle his newly appointed objective. a sharp contrast from the rest of your orderly home, the table was cluttered with random bits of paper and cardboard (both circular and rectangular, of various sizes), different crafting materials like scissors and box cutters, and hero related paraphernalia.

« people don’t usually make menko cards… he muttered. why not just buy the hero cards (‘my own are still collecting dust aren’t they…’)? he quizzed, flipping around a finished card of himself. despite his doubting tone, he carefully placed the work back down and got to cutting the few images off of few magazine pages. – that would be too easy. you shrugged. besides, i was planning to gift them to my niece. the bugger has bought everything i could find, and well… afford, in the shops. you admitted. – that makes sense… he replied, focusing on the task at hand. – the rascal loves all of this hero stuff but she absolutely loves sky high, you chuckled. it’s all she talks about. it’s like she lives and breathes the guy, said she wanted to be a hero and help people like he did. » you pretended to be annoyed, but he could hear the fondness in your voice. even though he’s supposed to start distancing himself from you, to start preparing himself for the upcoming heartbreak, he can’t help but continue to be endeared by you.

this was all so… incredibly mundane. everything just felt so incredibly ordinary. your interactions, the things you did together. it’s like it’s always been this way. the things you spoke about, and even the silence that you would share. there was always a certain comfort to be had together. it’s like this was normal, and he was the one you were always with. it’s like this was a routine. who knows, maybe in a different world, one where you two had met through different circumstances, maybe the two of you would’ve gotten together, he mused. but he had already ruined any chance of that he concluded. maybe had your lives gone a different way… maybe in another lifetime.

maybe this life wasn’t the one he was supposed to meet you in.

you sighed, straightening your back, before curling over your work once more: « sky high’s power is wind manipulation right? you pursed your lips. if i had that kind of power, i’d just spend most of my day flying to places. can you imagine? never having to put up with traffic? you rambled thoughtlessly. »

unbeknownst to you, ivan’s mind wandered back to a few years ago when he learnt that without the involvement of his custom made jetpacks sky high’s power could only allow him to float, and fought to stifle the laugh that crept up his throat. oblivious, you asked, sounding half-curious half-bored as you continued to abuse the material under your hands: « hey love, if you could have any next power in the world, what would you pick? »

ivan tilted his head towards you, and let his hand drop back down on the carpeted floor. change his ability for a different one? any kind at all? he took the time to ponder it, seriously considering the question. of course, he admired kotetsu’s and barnaby’s hundred power, but could he really utilise that correctly, what with the constraints? what about edward’s power? he had an actual chance to be a hero with his ability… or even lunatic and his fearsome control over his devastating blue flames. if he could use that for good? to help people? there were too many different abilities, each one more capable than the one he actually possessed.

« hmm… i guess… anything that’s useful; something that can be used to help others. he answered truthfully. i’m sorry, that must’ve been really vague. he laughed nervously. you shook your head with a smile. – that’s very noble of you, you praised as you continued working. truthfully, i envy your integrity. you confessed. – mm? why is that? what next power would you have chosen? he inquired. – oh, like if i had a second next power? you replied absentmindedly, focused on a particularly stubborn piece of cardboard which refused to cut. »

wait. did he hear that right?

« are… are you a next? » he asked, sounding something like perturbed.

« hmm? »

« is there something you’r… »

there wasn’t any need to elaborate: your face had said it all. like a criminal caught red-handed, your expression was the perfect picture of shock. he would even think you were scandalised. you pressed your lips into a thin line, eyebrows knitted in dismay.

« must’ve be a freudian slip… » you tried to laugh, neither of you amused. « it’s really nothing noteworthy or important— » you started on a lie, but grimaced slightly.

catching unto your tic, he pleaded, voice serious: « tell me the truth… please… »

you shifted in you seat uncomfortably, eyes dashing across your room looking at everything except his eyes. you were deeply aware of the eyes laser-focused on you, locked onto you to the point where you swore it could bore through you. you sighed and resigned yourself to telling him the truth. the entire truth, and nothing but the truth. it’s not like you could lie to his face: « before i tell you, do you promise not to leave before i finished explaining everything? you opened your mouth and closed them again. you’re free to hate me all you want, but please don’t… you turned away and bit your lips. »

he didn’t know what to anticipate. was your ability that alarming? he nodded, preparing himself for… whatever you were going to reveal to him.

« it’s honestly nothing incredible… you started. i couldn’t be a hero with it… i swear. it’s... you paused, as you tried to find the right words to divulge your ability. the right words to explain it clearly without making it into a fuss.

lie detection, you said, plainly, without much relish or fanfare. um... my ability only allows me to see through lies, or anything meant to deceive: lies, half-truths, manipulations, omission of detail… you hesitated. illusions.

i guess, neither of you ever noticed… they, um, taylor, didn’t know either… »

it’s shocking how easily this fabricated world crumbled.

you knew? what do you mean?? ivan had sat facing you, frozen in place. by fear, confusion, apprehension. he felt embarrassed, ashamed. were you just playing along to spare his feelings? he really should’ve told you earlier. look at where his inaction led him.

he should’ve been the one who came clean, instead of forcing you to tell the truth on his behalf.

« how long…? half wanting and not wanting to know the truth. he had a guess. if what you had said was true then... how long have you known? »

still not facing him, you cast your gaze downwards, clasping your hands together: « since the first time… when i saw you, i knew you weren’t the real taylor and just assumed it was you, origami. what with your involvement during the campaign and all... i’m guessing i’ve assumed correctly?

the hero sat motionless, but made no attempt to disprove your assumption. if what you had said about your ability was true, then there would be no point to lying.

at first i really… didn’t understand why you kept visiting me, as my former partner no less. i still don’t, for that matter… though i’m willing to give you the benefit of the doubt and assume that you have good intentions. i knew it was you, so i was a bit standoffish and suspicious when we first met… i thought you wanted to take advantage of me while i was helpless to stroke your own ego, or conduct some sort of ploy to boost your own popularity. i’m... really sorry for assuming something like that about you… i’m not sure where i got that idea as you never seemed to be that kind of person... you had been so sincere when i asked why you kept visiting me and kept pretending… well not pretending, you seemed to have genuinely cared about me, that i guess i started to drop my guard and trusted you.

your eyes were tinged with a sadness and confusion that he wished to get rid of, but it was no longer his place. it never was his place. you shook your head.

i’m really sorry. i really truly am for not letting you know sooner instead of letting it go this far… at first i… i played along because i didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable or feel humiliated by revealing that i could see through your disguise, and i wanted to wait for you to come clean first. but i guess… somewhere along the lines you’ve become a part of my routine and i’ve become quite fond of spending my time with you. of you. you quickly added. i know that i was going through a vulnerable moment of my life, which may have made me too trusting, but i really mean it: i’m really happy that i met you that day. i know you were just playing your role and that nothing ever meant anything… and i’m aware that you could’ve just… up and left whenever you got tired of dealing with my crap. even though it’s all fake, i’ve really enjoyed the time we got to spent together and i’m really happy i got to be with you. i’m really happy for being able to get to know you as a person, origami. »

you tried to smile to convey your gratefulness, but it came out wrong. it wavered and was visibly bittersweet. as you said that, your voice held such remorsefulness that baffled him. it was his fault in the first place, trapping the both of you in a punishment of his own creation. he should be the one apologising to you, he should be the one begging you for forgiveness as he explained himself. he should be the one who told you the truth. you had every reason to feel disgusted by him and hate him, and yet, here you were putting yourself down for his sake.

you were slightly surprised when you heard him respond, his voice no longer bearing that confident tone and smooth accent that you had recognised to be taylor’s. instead it was the boyish voice you had come to know was origami cyclone’s. but this time, it was devoid of any energy and lacked the boisterous intonation that often accompanied his words: « no, i- i’m the one who should apologise: i should’ve been the one to tell you the truth… if anyone should feel angry or betrayed, it should be you… i was the one who decided to set this all up after all…

after facing you, it was his turn to look away, avoiding your gaze.

i didn’t mean let it go this far … lying to you to this extent and for this long… but of course, i allowed it to get out of hand… i’m sorry, i should’ve told you sooner, if i ever made you uncomfortable at any point during this whole mess i’m really sorry. i... it was stupid. you never reached out for help and i’m sure you would’ve gotten through this just fine by yourself. my intent was never to manipulate you for my own gain or to use you… i had wanted to help you, naively thinking that i could fix you… it was selfish of me to just force my way into your life and help you, even though you never asked for mine. it was foolish to think i could just… pull the wool over your eyes like that, and it was unfair to you.

the blond considered stopping there, allowing a tangible silence, even more oppressive than the tension, to invade the room. should he tell you? should he…? he tried his best to summon a renewed determination. it was high time that he was honest to you, he told himself. honest to you. honest to himself, as well.

i suppose it’s pointless to lie to you, so i’ll tell you the truth: i... i— the circumstances in which we met were less than ideal, and i wished that we could’ve gotten to know each other differently, but… during the course of… whatever it is we had, i had stupidly hoped that the closeness i felt between us wasn’t imagined, and that you felt the same affection for me as i did for you.

despite his fear, he dared himself to turn back to where you had sat, bracing himself for what your eyes held. will it be repulsion? hostility? regret? vilification? he was scared, but even so he faced them.

my appearance may have not been mine, but my actions were. you’re free to doubt the validity of my words, but… even though i was pretending to be someone else i- my feelings are true. »

finding himself surprised for the umpteenth time that day, you fully turned to face him. you didn’t seem to be reacting badly, but you weren’t reacting much at all. you simply sat there, stunned at his display of honesty. were you combing through his words to detect any possible lies? he figured he deserved that level of distrust, after doing nothing but lie to you. he knows he shouldn’t feel so relieved when he wasn’t even in the clear yet, but at least you weren’t reacting badly and he was infinitely grateful for your seemingly infinite graciousness.

finally, you seemed to have recovered your voice: « i believe you. »

three words. three simple words that managed to lift all the weight off of his shoulders. you believed him. he didn’t deserve your forgiveness, and yet you gave it to him freely.

« could i see… no, nevermind. you had retracted your hesitant request. i’ve already made you go through too much for my sake. i’m grateful for being able to see you, regardless of who you look like. »

he shook his head, relenting: « you deserve to know the truth. it’s the least i could do after everything i made you endure… » with a blue flash, “taylor” disappeared. in their place was a young man with a mop of unruly blond hair. he fidgeted nervously with his hands under the baggy purple varsity jacket he wore, which coupled with his hunched posture, made him look smaller than he probably was. his striking and alluring purple eyes seemed to be permanently locked into an expression of worry and refused to meet your eyes. « i’m sorry… i’m probably way off from what you expected... » he muttered, dejectedly.

not expecting any sort of positive reaction for his underwhelming appearance, he turned his amethyst eyes elsewhere. he waited for your reaction, anticipating the worst. always anticipating the worst.

in one swift motion, you reached out to embrace him tightly. his body tensed up, having been caught off guard by the sudden affectionate gesture. his hands dropped from their hovering around your form as his wide eyes ran wildly across the room before they returned to settle on you. confusion laced his voice as he softly called out your name. he didn't know what to do with his arms as you wrapped your arms around him ever so gently. should he return… your gesture? but his arms laid uselessly next to him, still too stunned by your response.

yet again, he felt that same tingly feeling where you held him. the warmth that you brought to him reawakened those butterflies, making him feel light and fuzzy. is this ok? is feeling like this ok? is liking you ok?

« stop saying stuff like that about yourself, origami… you keep underselling yourself. you’re incredible, you’re kind, and yet you’re humble. your voice was soft as you spoke. i wasn’t just waxing poetics when i praised you, not just lip service to appeal to you because i could see behind your trick. i meant it when i said i admired you. even before i met you, i’ve admired you. »

you pulled away, if only to place your hands on either side of his face and to lift his eyes, making him face you, properly face you, for the first time in a long time. he was taken aback by how gentle and soft your gaze was. who were those kind eyes for? surely not him. he didn’t deserve such honest adoration. there was no reason for admiration, contentment, or appreciation to have their eyes on him. and yet, those compassionate eyes continue to gaze back at him. your beautiful eyes continued to look back at his own dull eyes.

was this really ok after everything he put you through? was it really ok to derive so much comfort from your hold?

you hoped your continued eye contact conveyed your sincerity.

« origami, you’re one of the most selfless and brave person i’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing, and now i’ve come to learn that you’re handsome to boot. you never cease to amaze me in the best way possible, and im so so grateful that you’re still here ori— finally waking from his daze and regaining some semblance of control over his limbs, he moved his arm to return your hold and wrapped them closely around you. he allowed the warmth he felt to fully consume him and buried his face in the crook of your neck, trying to get as physically close to you as possible. – ivan. he whispered in your ear, almost afraid. – ivan…? you echoed. – … my name is ivan. – is that so? then... thank you, ivan. thank you so so much. thank you for being here for me. thank you for everything. »

he knows now with certainty that he adores the way his name sounded with your voice. he couldn’t see your face from the position you were in, but he could imagine your captivating smile. the same one he adored so much. your careful hands had traveled to his head, stroking his hair, playing with an errant lock, and he adores your touch.

the small kindling that you had lit turned into a newfound courage that consumed him like wildfire. this unwanted and foolish adoration he held for you had proven itself to be phoenix, renewing itself as heartfelt and profound.

if you had allowed it, then he’s sure it was ok to be like this. to like being with you.

he adored you. and he hopes you adored him in kind.

« i— »

as he was about to say something, his communicator beeped relentlessly and he has never hated that sound more in his life until now. taken slightly by surprise, you both let go of each other and looked confused at each other—though he was intimately aware of where you rested your hands when you let go of each other: one on his shoulder, the other one on his hip. the latter of which he thoughtlessly gripped with his free hand, keeping it in place, not willing to part from you quite yet. not willing to let go quite yet. he whipped his right hand up, fumbling between taking this call and apologising to you for having interrupted what had been a very pleasant moment, the unexpected call flustering him. up until now, it had never annoyed him quite to this extent. he grumbled something you didn’t quite catch. his gaze flicked back and forth, from you, to his communicator, back to you.

he needed to take this, he needed to be there for agnes’ briefing. it was time sensitive, but so was the thing he wanted to tell you. he was torn: he needed to tell you something. he needed to answer before his employer forcefully answered his call for him and intruded.

« i… »

the indecision was clear in his eyes, so instead you made the choice for him: « it’s alright, go. »

you let your hand trail up his jaw, and placed it there. his attention was immediately brought back to you and the pleasant buzzing that often followed your touch. you smiled as you felt his hand follow your own and moved to rest it atop yours.

« i’ll be cheering for you, love. »

a/n:  might fuck around and make a fluffy sequel who knows

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[florenceandthemachine]

since we’re back on our bullshit pls consider: jackson in glasses and stiles losing his mind at how soft he looks in them thank u and goodnight

now that we.... back on our bullshit?

“hey Siri were we ever not on our bullshit?” “no”

“ok ty”

anyway here’s a little short thing because the only thing Stiles loves more than Jackson is Jackson in some big handsome dorky frames, ahahaha ha h a!!!!!!  what a nerd, am I right? h haha hahahhahhh!!!

--

Jackson would probably get them in college. He’s getting his pre-law stuff out of the way so he can get into law school a year early, and taking an accelerated program even then so he can graduate at the same time as Stiles does with his masters in criminal justice.

(And partially because his parents said that they would pay for his schooling, which in Jackson’s mind meant the sooner he was done with school, the sooner he could burn that bridge and never look back.)

He got accepted into UCLA, and accepted because he wanted to go there, thank you very much, not because most of the pack had been accepted there as well. And Stilinski, for some reason, how had such a weird level of scholarship fuckery that he basically had a full ride—Jackson could admit that was impressive, because if anyone knew what it was like to fuck the system so successfully, it was Jackson. 

As great as college would be, as great as it would be for Jackson to become more independent, and more reliant on himself and the pack, as great as it would be for Jackson to have his own “great bi awakening” (”shut the fuck up, Stilinski, I swear to Christ—”).... college would be a whole new realm of issues for him. 

The most annoying was easily the least problematic—staring at screens for ten hours a day hurt his fucking eyes.

It didn’t seem to be something that could be helped, either—staring away from the screen helped his supernatural healing kick in, sure, but the irritation came back as soon as he was looking at his laptop.

Old Jackson would have probably shut up and stared at his laptop screen until he went blind, because he was NOT one to deal with things in a healthy manner. 

New Jackson was.... a little better, in that it only took him a few weeks before he asked Derek what the fuck was up. 

As it turned out, blue light was an issue for werewolves, so that was cool. 

It was an easy fix, but that didn’t mean that Jackson was thrilled about it. He had never had to wear glasses before—he had kind of hoped that becoming a werewolf was going to head that off at the pass before even age would affect his vision—so he was less than looking forward to the next pack study session. 

As usual, he was one of the last people to show up to the huge table they had basically claimed in the Darling Law Library (it was his week, next week would be in the Biomedical library for Lydia), and he slunk to the furthest end of the table before pulling out his glasses, glaring daggers at anyone who dared to make a remark.

They weren’t bad looking, of course. Jackson had basically picked out the nicest designer frames he could find, ignored anything having to do with a prescription, and paid extra for the blue light filters. The result was something he could live with—a nice dark frame, thick enough to add credibility to his profile without being bulky, stylish in a timeless way instead of something trendy that would be out of season in a year.

By the time Stiles showed up, they had already broken into their little teams—Allison and Lydia were flipping flash cards at a frankly impressive rate, Scott and Isaac were busy working on translations that neither of them were getting quite right (seriously the formal vous was not that difficult) and Jackson was nearly buried behind a pile of books. 

Truth be told, he had literally taken less than a minute to forget about the glasses—the relief from his headache was great, but nothing he could really focus on. So when Stiles sat beside him and Jackson looked up, catching his gaze, he literally had no idea why Stiles cut himself off and started to gape at him like a fish.

Jackson did the worlds slowest double take when, typing up several more passages from law textbook, he saw Stiles still staring at him. He moved to push his glasses up, and—oh fuck, that’s right, he was wearing glasses—and suddenly Stiles’ staring took on a whole new tone. 

“Can I help you?” he snapped, his self consciousness coming out in a sneered whisper that would probably have been much curler sounding if he had any volume in his voice. Stiles, for what it was worth, seemed to shake out of his stupor.

“No, no, Jackson, you just... I mean... you have really nice eyes. I can’t believe I didn’t notice before.”

Jackson frowns, scanning the heartbeat for a lie, but Stiles is being honest... and that’s something that he’s not sure how to deal with quite yet, so he just shrugs it off. 

“All of me is pretty, Stilinski, now get to work.”

--

As Stiles was so fond of saying, once was an incident, twice was a coincidence, and three times was a pattern, and Jackson was pretty sure that he was up to six times and counting where he had adjusted his glasses, or pushed them up into his hair, or even tapped at the side of the frame, and had Stiles immediately snap his attention to him. 

Which wasn’t a bad thing, he figured. He was man enough to admit that he had definitely grown to appreciate how Stilinski grew into himself over their first year of college—gone was the awkward, s scrawny teenager, and in his place was a more confident, self respecting, young adult...

... who just seemed to revert back into a teenager whenever Jackson did something like, take off his glasses. Or clean his glasses. Or push his glasses up. Stiles would always falter in his step, or trail off in his speech, or—as Jackson noted, pulling his glasses off as he pretended to read and sticking one of the arms in his mouth—literally walk into a doorways.

And it just. Kept. Happening.

It got to the point where Stiles got a B on his midterm (which was NOT the end of the world, like Scott kept reassuring him, but for a perfectionist like Jackson... well, he could definitely relate to how stressed out Stiles got about it). 

He even started to try to leave his glasses at home when he could, but that was always a recipe for disaster. Because now that Jackson had noticed Stiles looking at him, it was all he could notice, even without his glasses off. The only difference was that he now had a headache, so he was already irritable, which meant he usually started snapping between the second and third time he caught Stiles staring at him, which meant that there was more than one study session where Lydia had sent them all home early.

The most recent of which ended in Jackson, sitting in his car, rubbing his temples and growling, as if that would help the headache. He had all but threatened to gut Stiles if he looked over one more time, and Lydia had taken a minute after declaring the session was over to mentally shake Jackson to death. 

“You two get to study alone next week until you can play nice. Whatever the fuck is going on, fix it. With him. Immediately.”

Jackson hated Lydia. Mostly because she was always right.

--

Since they had been banned from the library by She who Wields the Table Reservations, Jackson had decided to announce that they would be taking a study break—Stiles only seemed too happy to oblige, especially if Jackson’s idea of a night off was terrible food and bad movies. He had threatened Stiles under risk of bodily injury to secure the good couch on the fourth floor of the student union while he went and picked up far too much fast food for two growing boys, even if one was a bottomless pit and one was a werewolf.

“So, are you finally going to ask me out or what?” Jackson asked, an hour into their “study session” where neither of them had even attempted to crack a book yet. After giving up on forgoing the frames, he had started wearing the glasses more and more often—even when there wasn’t a laptop in sight, just a couch and a table littered with wrappers from their greasy, delicious haul.

He figured it was the safest way to address the tension between them. Either Stiles would snap at him and storm off, or laugh about it and shrug things away, or they could actually fucking get somewhere like adults—Jackson wasn’t picky, he just wanted something to fucking progress.

Stiles promptly choked on a curly fry, looking at Jackson like he was crazy, opening his mouth to prepare for what Jackson knew was going to be a protest—so he was surprised when Stiles closed his mouth again, tilting his head. 

“Fine, but you better be taking me somewhere nice.”

Jackson laughed and threw another fry at him, shaking his head. “Fucking finally. Here I thought you just liked me for my glasses.” he said with a smirk, looking at Stiles over the rim of his glasses in a way that he knew would have Stiles blushing so prettily in no time flat.

Stiles tiled his head a little at that, a small smile on his face. “Don’t get me wrong, the glasses look is definitely... I mean, it’s.... god, you’re so pretty, but dude, just ask Lydia. I’ve been gazing longingly at you ever since you announced you wanted to go into family law to help make sure no kids wind up in your situation.”

Jackson frowned—that was at the beginning of freshman year, just over a year ago, there was no way—but Stiles heart was ringing true. 

Oh. 

“Oh.”

Jackson pinked up, and Stiles crooned.

(On Halloween, Stiles talks Jackson into doing a couples costume—Batman and Superman. Jackson shows up to Stiles’ apartment in a suit, tie, and his glasses, and Stiles—clad in his Batman suit—is pissed. All Jackson has to do is open his button down shirt to reveal the big “S” underneath and Stiles has to pick his jaw up off the floor.

“My hero.” he breathes.

They barely make it to Lydias party before midnight.)

[l-sincline]

Cybernetics- Cyberpunk!Sonic AU- Chapter 8

Amy Rose has been working tirelessly at her broken down booth for as long as she can imagine. Ever since Tails left their work to join forces with the revered hero of Mobius, ‘The Blue Blur’, she’s grown lonely and desperate to make her life exciting. A strange customer comes in one day asking her to fix his cyborg arm, what she didn’t know was that he would be the catalyst for a brand new life.

AO3 Tags:

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Amy Rose/Shadow the Hedgehog, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Amy Rose (Sonic the Hedgehog), Shadow the Hedgehog, Sonic the Hedgehog, Miles “Tails” Prower, Dr. Eggman | Dr. Robotnik, Rouge the Bat, Whisper the Wolf, Cream the Rabbit, Knuckles the Echidna, Badnik (Sonic the Hedgehog), E-123 Omega, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Cyberpunk, Angst, Slow Burn, Partners in Crime

AO3 Link

Previous/Next

Bugs buzzed monotonously by her ear, body truly screaming at her to stop moving and lay down now.

“We’re almost there.” He’d promised quite a few times.

She’d at one point exasperatedly asked how he made this trek. He pointed out that he had the chip, and that also when he chose not to use the chip, he had the shoes. Amy supposed she’d have to figure something out. But until then, she was stuck feeling like death while the sun slowly left them less and less light. Her feet felt about ready to fall off, and at this point she wouldn’t be opposed to it, then she would have to lay down and take a break until her feet got replaced by cyborg parts. Unfortunately, unless there was a saw around here, she got the feeling that though they hurt, her feet were firmly attached to the rest of her for many years to come. She stopped when she bumped her head on Shadow’s shoulder blade on accident, not realizing that he had stopped. She looked up and saw him glancing back at her, silently pointing to the building ahead of them. The outside looked just as old as the rest of the buildings, vines and moss grew up the side, but the difference would be that this building had no cracks, no holes, and even had glass in the windows. The thick vines had been pushed away to grow around the doorway, which held a black, steel door.

“This is it?” She whispered. Shadow nodded and beckoned her to follow once more, stepping up to the door and opening up the scanner attached to it, allowing it to scan his face. Once it had, she heard the soft clicking of the mechanism allowing it to unlock, and soon she was following him inside.

The inside was clean, fixed up just like he’d said. The floor was tiled and a round, maroon carpet sat in the middle of it. To the right was a couch with two love seats and a coffee table, as well as a large ProjScreen attached to the wall, the furniture sat on top of a rectangle rug that was the same color as the round one. To the left there was kitchen, complete with an island and any appliances one would need to cook as well as a fridge- she had no idea how they got any power out here, but she’d ask about that later. Lights dotted the ceiling to make up for the lack of windows on the first floor, and in the middle of the back wall there was a staircase leading up. Amy looked over to see Shadow had taken off his cloak and hung it on a hook on the wall.

“Shadow! Watch out!” A voice cried from the steps, and Amy found herself being tackled and pinned to the ground. She cried out in pain, she wasn’t sure how much more of a beating her body was to take today, but she hoped it wasn’t much more as clenched her teeth and squinted in pain.

“Rouge! She’s no danger- get off.” He demanded exasperatedly.

‘Rouge’s weight left her and she opened her eyes, taking Shadows hand that he offered and allowing herself to be pulled up. Then, she looked over to see who exactly ‘Rouge’ was.

She was... an Android. White metal, bright blue, glowing eyes. Equipped with fake lashes and makeup. Two wings protruded from her back and her ears gave away that she was modeled to look like a bat mobian. She currently wore a robe- it looked soft, and it was pink, matching slippers she wore on her feet. Aside from all that, she was much curvier than your typical Android would be, at least from what Amy had seen before.

“Rouge, this is Amy. She’s coming on board as our mechanic.” Shadow introduced her. Amy held out a hand.

“It’s nice to meet you...” She spoke softly, and cautiously, not wanting to incite any more anger from the Android woman. Rouge was silent, studying her up and down. Judging her. Amy couldn’t tell what the Android was thinking- it was strange, Androids tended to be easier to read because they weren’t actually mobians.

“I like your pants.” She said suddenly, crouching down to grasp one of the straps. “They’re practical and yet, very stylish.” Rouge observed before standing back up to look at Amy. Her facial expression didn’t give much away, but her body language told Amy that for now, Rouge would leave her be.

Amy let out a breath of relief as Rouge turned to look at Shadow.

“Does that mean Omega can finally be fixed...?” She asked hopefully.

“I do believe so.” He replied.

“Omega?” Amy wondered aloud.

“Don’t worry about it for now, you need to rest up, you’ve been smacked around a bit more than I think you’re used to today.” Shadow nodded to Rouge, and the bat android stepped forward and lifted Amy’s bag from her shoulder.

“I’ll take this to your room and get everything ready for you.” She explained before turning and spreading her wings, flying up the stairs. Shadow chuckled.

“What’s funny?” Amy asked.

“I think she’s excited to have another girl in the house.”

She ‘ooh’ed quietly, following Shadow as he walked over to the kitchen.

“Sit.” He gestured to one of the stools that sat at the island. Amy sat down gingerly and put her hands in her lap, watching him open the fridge and stare at it absentmindedly. She couldn’t imagine it was easy to get food out here, but then she remembered his teleporting trick and supposed that it was quite possible that he... went grocery shopping? That would be a funny sight to see. He shut the fridge door and leaned down to the freezer door, pulling it open and selecting something from it before tossing it on the table. He pulled out a toaster from next to the fridge and plugged it in before getting to work on unwrapping the food while beginning to speak to her once more.

“The room won’t be great, but you can start to get your own stuff to put in there once you... adjust to our living style.” He explained, popping what she now saw were frozen waffles into the toaster. “ProjScreen- on.” He called, louder than he had been talking to her previously, and she shifted slightly to turn and watch the ProjScreen as he continued to shuffle around in the kitchen. What she saw made her stomach turn.

“-from what we can see, this woman and her partner made a complete fool of the Blue Blur.” The female cat gossip show anchor chided.

“While we up here in the neon city aren’t exactly big fans of any criminal, watching these two lay waste to the Blue Blur is exceptionally funny.” The male deer replied, partially to the camera. The woman laughed.

“As part of our ‘down with the Blue Blur’ campaign, I just want to play that absolutely humiliating clip again!” She cried joyfully, clapping her hands together before turning in her chair to watch the screen behind them.

The screen showed a projection from the angle of what seemed to be a surveillance camera. It was a slow-mo shot of her rolling and shoving herself off the Blue Blur, immediately followed by Shadow’s cyborg hand appearing on screen and hitting the Blue Blur square in the back, sending him tumbling forward and scraping on the ground. Thank god the camera panned towards the blue hedgehog instead of her and Shadow, or else there’d be video proof of them just disappearing. But instead it zoomed in on the Blue Blur, who struggled to get up before collapsing. The video cut off just as Tail’s feet came in frame.

“Now that is just too funny!” The cat woman cried again, smile wide on her face.

“I have to agree with you there- but now we have to get to the more interesting topic- who was that woman?” He asked enthusiastically as a grainy, zoomed in projection of her face from when she was falling came up behind them.

“Now, thanks to some intelligence we do know she ran a shop in the outer ring, but the real question is how did she get wrapped up in all this drama? I mean, Mobius’ most famous vigilante scooping her up and trying to take her away from the mystery cyborg man- what do you think happened?” She questioned her cohost.

Amy grimaced, they were making it out to be some sort of romantic triangle from what she could tell, and before she could hear what the deer had to say, Shadow cut in.

“ProjScreen- off.” He called out. “Sorry, I don’t know why Rouge watches that crap. It was probably uncomfortable to see your face like that.” He apologized gruffly as she turned back around, watching him slide a plate across to her.

“It’s fine.” She reassured, “It was honestly kind of interesting to see how they talked about me- us. They... liked that we knocked down the Blue Blur.”

“Of course they did.” He snorted. “Inner ring folk hate him.” Amy shrugged in response, not knowing what more to say on the topic.

“So, what have you made for me, chef?”

“Toaster waffles with peanut butter on them for protein, plus some apple slices for some good sugar and vitamin intake. Just something to get you through the night, there’ll be something better in the morning.”

“Thank you.” She smiled slightly, glad to be digging in to the food. The waffles were a bit stale and the apples were a bit mushy, but it was better than what she usually ate, so she continued to munch on it happily as Shadow walked over to the living room half of the bottom floor. By the time she was finishing up, she heard Rouge land on the tile at the bottom of the stairs.

“Your room is ready.”

Amy looked over with a tired smile, standing and putting the plate by the sink she had spotted earlier before walking over to Rouge.

“Thank you... for all this.” She turned back to Shadow before stepping up the stairs. “I know this is weird... for both of us, but thank you for giving me this chance and keeping me from getting arrested.” He merely grunted in response and Amy assumed that was the best she was going to get and followed Rouge up the stairs.

They went up two floors before stepping out of the stairs and into a hallway, Rouge passed one door on the left before coming to one slightly past it on the right and pushing it open.

“Here you go, call me if you need anything- I’m a floor down.” She explained as Amy stepped in the room, closing the door behind the pink hedgehog. Amy could hear her slippered feet walking away.

Too tired to care about what the room looked like, Amy leaned against the wall and unlaced her boots, kicking them off before walking over to and collapsing in the bed. She let out a deep sigh before almost immediately falling asleep, too exhausted physically and mentally to even consider what her day had been.

[justanoutlawfic]

Coming Home: Chapt. 4

Summary: Emma isn't the only one with a box of memories. David and Mary Margaret go over it together, while making a plan for how to keep their daughter in town. Meanwhile, an unknown ally is helping them along.

Also on AO3/FF

January 6th, 1989

 Emma had been quiet ever since she moved in with them. Mary Margaret did everything she could to open the little girl up but it had been a challenge. She had it expected it. August barely said two words to them after he arrived in Storybrooke. Even so, Mary Margaret knew this could be a longer placement and she wanted to get Emma acclimated as much as possible. A few days after Emma arrived, Mary Margaret decided to take her shopping.

 “I have lots of stuff back at the house,” Emma said as they walked into the only office supply store in town.

“You do, but I got a list from your new teacher,” Mary Margaret explained. “School starts again on Monday, so you’ll need some stuff I didn’t want to get you until we met.”

“Like what?”

“Like a backpack.”

“I have one already.”

 Mary Margaret didn’t want to point out that Emma’s backpack was falling apart. It could barely hold the beautiful baby blanket that was inside of it along with the one other outfit that she had from her previous home. Instead, she steered Emma over to the section where they were lined up on the wall.

 “Well, I want to treat you to a new one.” Mary Margaret gestured to the selections. “You can pick any one you want and a lunchbox.”

Emma tilted her head and Mary Margaret had to stop herself from smiling too wide. “A lunchbox? Normally I get free lunch at school.”

“Well, you could get lunch from the cafeteria or you could have yummy stuff that David makes you.”

Emma seemed as though she was debating it for a bit. “David’s food is yummy.”

“It is, huh?” Mary Margaret held out a pink one for Emma to inspect, which got a wrinkled nose. “No pink?”

“I like yellow…and red.”

“Well, I’m sure we could find one of those.”

 She and Emma looked down the section, with Mary Margaret offering different ones to her. None really seemed to catch the little girl’s eye. Mary Margaret reached to grab some ice packs for the lunchbox when she saw Emma examining a denim backpack. It would be big enough for all her stuff and was quite stylish, if Mary Margaret was being honest.

“That one, sweets?” Emma looked up and nodded. Mary Margaret smiled. “I like it too.” She took it off the shelf and put it in the cart. “Now for the lunchbox.”

 Emma found a Rainbow Brite lunchbox she liked. It was bright yellow and had the characters on the front. Alongside of it was a matching thermos, which would be perfect for soups or pastas that David liked to make. Next, they went to look at the supplies. Mrs. Anderson had requested a huge box of crayons, some glue sticks and scissors. Emma looked nervously at the list.

 “I’ve never been to a new school before.”

Mary Margaret set the list onto her purse and knelt down to her height. “It’s a little scary, huh?” Emma nodded, her green eyes widening a bit. “Well, you know I’m a teacher, right?”

“Yeah, for bigger kids.”

“4th grade. But, I happen to be friends with a lot of the teachers and I know Mrs. Anderson is very nice. She has a fun classroom with lots of toys. You even get to take a nap halfway through the day.” Emma still didn’t look convinced. “And if anything were to happen, you know you could always come find me.”

“Really?”

“Pinky swear.” Mary Margaret held out her pinky and waited for Emma to wrap hers around it. “The best part is, the kindergarteners get their very own playground, with a twisty slide.”

Emma’s eyes seemed to light up at that. “I’ve never seen one of those.”

“Well then I’m sure Mrs. Anderson and the other kids will be happy to show it to you.”

 Emma suddenly flung her arms around Mary Margaret’s torso. Mary Margaret nearly fell over, but caught herself before wrapping her arms around Emma.

“I’m glad my new foster mom is a teacher.”

Mary Margaret stroked Emma’s golden curls. “Well, I’m happy to have you as a foster daughter, Emma.”

“Emma.”

Mary Margaret stood up with Emma in her arms and turned to face the source of the voice. It was Mr. Gold. In one hand, he balanced a cane. In the other, was a basket filled with stationary and pens.

 “Mr. Gold,” Mary Margaret said, politely. She didn’t know the man too well, outside the fact that he practically owned the whole town. Granny was always complaining about how high he made the rent. It was partially why she and David had bought, instead of rented. He also owned an antique store on Main Street, but she had never been inside. “How are you?”

“Quite fine, dearie.” He looked over at Emma, who was clinging to her foster mother. “So, Emma.”

“David and I are fostering,” Mary Margaret explained. “This is our newest placement.”

Mr. Gold nodded, though he didn’t look thoroughly convinced. Why would he think she was lying about a thing like that? “Right.” He blinked a few times, before a smile came across his face. “Well, have a lovely day, Mrs. Nolan and…Emma.”

 Mr. Gold walked away, the sound of his cane scraping against the tile floors. Emma clung a bit tighter to Mary Margaret.

 “Who was that?”

“Mr. Gold, he owns a shop in town.”

“Oh.” Emma’s eyebrows furrowed. “He kept staring at me. You’re not supposed to stare.”

“I know, sweets, but he means no harm.” Mary Margaret rubbed her back. “Come on, we need to find you some new sneakers.”

 October 26th, 2011

 Mary Margaret didn’t have much from her time with her foster daughter. The possessions stayed in a box in the back of her closet. A few toys like the Cabbage Patch doll she had gotten for Valentine’s Day or the stuffed lamb that David had selected for her. There was the sign that once hung in her room “You are my sunshine”. Finally, she had Emma’s old lunchbox. She wasn’t sure why that was the one thing she kept. Maybe because it wasn’t just a connection to Emma, but her ex-husband too. David would make both of their lunches every night before he went to bed. Normally, PB&J for Emma and some leftovers for Mary Margaret. Still, they were always appreciated.

 At the bottom of the lunchbox was a post-it note that David had put in there, just as he did every day.

 Hope you’re having a good day, Emmy. Love, Daddy.

 Daddy. Emma had started calling them by proper parental names just a few months into staying with them. They had no doubt that they would be able to adopt her. There was no reason why they shouldn’t be able to. And then, it was all taken away because of a stupid mistake that she made.

 She knew David had never forgiven her for it. Sure, he said he didn’t blame her but Mary Margaret saw the look in his eyes the days after Emma left. The way he stopped touching her. He was the one that had called Helen and told her that they didn’t want any more placements. Why would he have done all of that if he didn’t blame her?

 They had been divorced for such a long time and yet Mary Margaret could still remember everything about their divorce. Life before Emma’s arrival and after she left was fuzzy, but that was clear as day. The silence turned to fighting, but even that dissipated. Before she knew it, she was going to Gold and asking him to draw up divorce papers. The man that had once given them such hope that they were going to be a family was making it clear that they never would be.

 Neither stayed in the house. Instead, they sold it and split the profits. David started renting a house not far from where they once lived, while Mary Margaret moved to a loft in the center of town. It was small, perfect for a new divorcee. There was even the clawfoot tub that she had always dreamed of.

 She still would’ve given anything to have him back.

 The door to her loft opened and Mary Margaret looked up to find David standing there. After avoiding each other for years, Emma was the one thing to pull them back together.

 “She talking to you yet?” he asked.

Mary Margaret shook her head. “I tried to visit her room at Granny’s but she wouldn’t open the door.”

David threw himself onto the couch and let out a sigh. “I pictured this with her as a teenager, but not now.”

Mary Margaret gently rolled her eyes. “Please, you would’ve been the favorite when she was 13. All teenage girls hate their moms.”

“But their moms are the ones they go to when crap hits the fan.”

She smiled, even though she didn’t want to. “I guess that’s true.”

“Besides, I don’t know if she ever had a favorite. We both gave her what she needed in our own ways.”

Mary Margaret nodded. “I guess that’s true.”

 David’s eyes traveled to the box in front of her. He made his way down to the floor and lifted out the lamb, running his fingers through the dingy fur.

 “I nearly forgot about this,” he whispered.

“I didn’t keep a lot after we moved, but this was just the stuff I couldn’t part with.”

“Yeah, I have her old sun pillow.” He shrugged when Mary Margaret looked at him confused. “I keep it on my couch, a reminder of what could’ve been.”

Mary Margaret nodded. “I go through my closet every week, I tell myself I’m reorganizing it, but I think it’s just an excuse to look through all of this.”

 It’s weird how easy they can communicate. Mary Margaret told herself it was for Emma. She was their weight to the world.

 “You’re punishing yourself,” David said.

“I guess I took over for you.”

 David looked at her strangely. Mary Margaret closed the box and started to head back to her closet.

 “Did you have a reason for coming over?” she asked.

David bit his lip. “I know we don’t get along the way we used to Mary Margaret, but once upon a time, we did.”

“A lot has changed since then.”

“I know that. I was there.”

 And then you weren’t. But she had asked him to leave, so could she really blame him for that?

 David continued on, pulling himself up. The plush lamb was clutched tightly in his grip. “We want Emma to stay, there’s no doubt about that. So maybe we can just try to put the past behind us. If she just sees us fighting, that’s not going to remind her of the good times that this place brought her.”

Mary Margaret set the box down onto her bed. “I guess that’s true.”

“So…truce? At least for Emma?”

 He extended the lamb and she allowed her hand to go over it.

 “Truce,” she whispered. “For Emma.”

*******************************************************************************************

Not much had changed in Storybrooke in the 23 years since Emma left. Granny’s grilled cheese was no exception. The way she somehow managed to combine the three cheeses and perfectly toast the bread was a marvel. She hadn’t been able to find one like it since she left all those years ago. The onion rings were huge and never left her hungry.

 It was hard to find reasons to hate the town. As much as she wanted to only remember the bad times, ever since she ran into Mary Margaret it was nearly impossible. Memories of running around at the beach or the park. Getting ice cream after school with David. Sitting on Mary Margaret’s desk while she graded papers and occasionally let Emma put unicorn stickers on the pages.

 Why did she have to remember all of that? It was hard enough having to remember the bad, but remembering the good meant that there was something great and she was forced to leave it.

 “Miss Swan.”

 Emma nearly dropped her sandwich at the sound of Mr. Gold’s voice. She looked up in shock, but he just had that same steady smile on his face that he always had.

 “Mr. Gold,” Emma placed her sandwich down and took a swig of her root beer. “You trying to take 10 years off my life?”

He chuckled. “Just wanted to see how you were enjoying our town.”

“It’s…practically the same.” She looked around the diner. “Weird how no one’s aged.”

“Oh, they have, just not in the ways you’d expect.”

 Emma cocked an eyebrow. She remembered being scared of this man when she was 5 years old. Now, he was more of a mystery.

“I heard you’re staying with us for a bit.”

“Just until I can get my car fixed. Then I’m out of here.”

“I’m sure Ms. Blanchard and Mr. Nolan were sad to hear that.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “Forgive me if I don’t care about how they feel. They’re the ones that gave me up.”

“Life is more complicated than we normally think. Sometimes, parents have to let go and regret it.”

“What would you know about it?”

 Emma reached down to take a bite of her sandwich and when she looked up, she saw a haunted gaze over him.

 “You don’t know what I know.”

She felt even more puzzled by that. “Pardon?”

Gold snapped out of it, returning to his no-nonsense stare. “Your parents didn’t want to give you up.”

“Foster parents,” Emma corrected. “And they did.”

“There are always three sides to the truth, Miss Swan. His, hers and the truth.” He reached into his briefcase and pulled out a manila envelope. “I happen to have the third.”

“How…”

“You were quite young when all of that was going on, but let me remind you that I was their attorney. Everything that happened, went through me.”

 He placed the envelope on the table, making sure to be careful of her ketchup dipping bowl.

 “If you don’t believe them or me, believe the legal documents.”

 He reached down and stole an onion ring from her plate, popping it in his mouth.

“I’ve always preferred fries,” he mused, walking away.

 Emma stared at the envelope. It was thick, with her first name on it. She wasn’t sure how much she could trust it. Mary Margaret and David could have paid him to falsify something. Then again, Mr. Gold didn’t seem like the type.

 Slowly, she picked it up and put it into her backpack. She’d read it. Not for them, but for herself. After 23 years, she deserved answers.

[letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked]

Words On My Skin (Part 8)

Bucky Barnes x Reader Soulmate AU

A/N: Sorry this took forever! My best friend is back in town, and I’ve been busy! To compensate, I made this part looong! Though, if I look at this part any more (meaning: going back and editing), it will never get posted! So forgive me, but I refuse to edit this! XOXO

Thanks for being patient! -Kristin-

Warnings: UNEDITED, swearing, idk... 

Main Masterlist // WOMS Masterlist

 “Oh, my god! You need those shoes!” Wanda gushed, grabbing your hand and dragging you into another store at the mall in New York City, boots clunking against the tiled floors of the busy mall. She skips into some fancy shoe store, hair swinging behind her, picking up a random pair of nude pumps with a peep-toe. “You would rock these heels.”

“You’re lucky Stark pays me an obnoxious amount of money and refuses to let me pay rent.” You huffed, shifting your multiple bags up your arm, “I think I’ve spent enough money to last me a lifetime, in just this short shopping trip.”

Wanda had made good on her promise, making sure that you updated your closet with things that were more stylish and updated. She’d taken you to a few random, name brand shops, and was now pulling you through some fancy mall in New York City. Vision and Caleb were trailing behind, chatting about Vision’s new interest in cooking… though you weren’t sure if he could actually taste what he was cooking. Caleb was talking about loaning him some copies he had made of his grandmother’s cookbook.

You thought you’d be fine shopping with just Wanda, but – apparently – Bucky had thrown a goddamn temper tantrum about you shopping without security, so Vision and Caleb had joined you by the third store. You’d let it go, deciding that it wasn’t an argument you’d wanted to deal with.

Even if he was such an overprotective dumbass, sometimes.

“If you’re worried about money, I’ll buy them.” She replied, flagging down a sales associate. “Stark set me up with a card.”

“I’m not worried about money, anymore.” You smiled, shifting the bags, again, “I have more money than I know what to do with, lately.”

“Do you want me to carry your bags?” Caleb spoke up from behind you, pausing his conversation with Vision, “I don’t mind.”

“Oh, my god, that’d be lovely.” You sighed, sliding the bags off your arm and into Caleb’s outstretched hand. “Thanks, man.”

He nodded, turning back to Vision to talk about the difference between baking soda and baking powder.

Meanwhile, the sales associate brought back the appropriate size shoes for you to try on, and Wanda gave her four more pairs of shoes to grab in your size. You hadn’t even noticed her browsing through the aisles. “Wanda, how the hell are we going to carry this back to the car?”

“We can just make Vis and Caleb bring them back while we go to the girly underwear store.” She winked, holding your flats while you shoved your feet into the pumps, nodding when you tested them out. “If your closet looks the way it does, I’m sure your underwear collection is just as sparse.”

You looked down, a blush warming your cheeks, “You might be right…”

“I figured as much.” She laughed, twisting one of her many rings around her fingers. “I don’t know about you, but a good set of underwear can completely brighten your day. I feel so put-together, with a matching set.”

“I’ll take any advice on how to feel put-together,” You sighed, slipping off the heels and grabbing another box that the associate had set on the bench. “I’ve been stressed out more-so than usual, because Bucky is projecting his stress onto me, without realizing it.”

“You can feel his stress?” She asked, eyebrows shooting up in astonishment, “I didn’t know that was something that could happen with soulmates.”

“He’s been overworking himself.” You rolled your eyes, zipping up the backs of a pair of black, caged booties, “Even if we didn’t have the soulmate bond, you can see it in his eyes. They get all dark when he is stressed out.”

“You should be the one overworking him, not Avengers business.” She winked, bursting out into laughter as your eyes widened and blush spread to your neck and chest. “You should be overworking him all night long.”

“Oh my god, Wanda, stop it.” You whined, clearing your throat as your heart rate sped up at the thought of you and Bucky getting intimate. “We’re still in the early stages of our relationship.”

She gaped at you, shocked, “Have you even kissed, yet?”

Looking down in embarrassment, you shook your head, “Uh, no. Not, yet. We’ve only really ever hugged and held hands.” You cleared your throat, again, unzipping the pretty boots and putting them in the ‘yes’ pile. “I feel like a fucking teenager.”

“How the hell do you deal with the sexual tension?” She laughs, shaking her head with a large grin on her face. “You two work out, together… I’ve seen that man work out, and I don’t know how you deal with it.”

“Lots of cold showers.” You giggled, slipping on another pair of red heels, “I don’t want to overstep.”

“You’re literally soulmates.” She rolled her eyes, swiping her hair behind her ear, nodding at the heels. “You’re meant to be together.”

“Still.” You sighed, slipping off the heels and putting your flats back on. “That doesn’t mean we need to jump each other’s bones right off the bat.”

She hummed, putting on what you liked to call her ‘plotting face’. You could tell that she was plotting some sort of evil plan to try and get you and Bucky to further your relationship. She’d tried it the week previous, by talking about how she was going to take you lingerie shopping, today, and winking at Bucky. She’d, also, got the rest of the team – sans Steve – to make sexual comments when you were both together.

It was awkward as hell, but you and Bucky just decided to ignore them.

“I have an idea.” She suddenly sprung up, a large grin on her pale face, white teeth fully on display. “You’re going to go along with this idea, whether you like it or not.”

Oh god.

“You scare me.” You gulped, shoving the shoes back in the appropriate boxes so you could pay. “I’m not doing anything I’m not comfortable with.”

“It’s nothing too terrible.” She smirked, following you to the cash register. “Just a little… revamping of your work-out clothes, underwear, and giving that chest a little… oomph.”

You glanced down at your chest, a frown on your face. It wasn’t that bad, you weren’t necessarily upset about your… assets. “What’s wrong with my chest?”

“Well, the grandma bra I guarantee you’re wearing, for starters.” Wanda giggled, ignoring the weird look from the woman ringing up your shoes, “You could use an upgrade.” She leaned against the counter, crossing her arms and giving you a smug grin, “Imagine the look on Bucky’s face if you walked into the gym with a sports bra that actually gave you boobs? He’d really want to throw you down onto the mat, if you know what I mean.”

“Wanda!” You hissed, face heating up in embarrassment as you glanced around at the other women in line and the woman ringing you up, “There’s people around.”

“So?” She scoffed, waving her hand nonchalantly and rolling her eyes, “You’ve been with Bucky for like… six months. You haven’t even kissed, yet. You two are literally the definition of a slow-burn romance. It’s infuriating. I hate slow burns. What, are you courting?”

“Shut up.” You mumble, taking your bags and thanking the sales woman, “I’m throwing out all your romance novels.”

“I’ll throw you through a wall, if you do.” She raised an eyebrow at you, lips pressing into a hard line. “I can move things with my mind, remember?”

“Quit meddling with my love life.” You grumbled, following her out of the store to reconvene with Vision and Caleb. “We’re getting to know each other. We have the rest of our lives for the… intimate stuff.”

“The ‘intimate stuff’ is the best part!” Wanda whined, looping her arm through yours, “Right, boys?”

Vision frowned, face scrunching in confusion as he thought about what you were talking about, “I don’t…”

“Just say ‘yes’, Vis.” Wanda chuckled, letting you go to grab Vision’s hand, “Anyways, us ladies are going to go girly shopping. Would you boys mind giving us some privacy and bringing the bags to the car? I promise we will be fine, and I will call if there’s an issue.”

“I suppose we can do that.” Caleb replied, a small smirk on his face. “Girly shopping isn’t really my forte, anyways. I prefer the fun stuff, like fast cars and food.”

“Such a manly man.” You rolled your eyes, lips turning up into a small smile, “Coming from the man who literally yelled at me for not knowing the difference between sorbet and sherbet.”

“I’m a food connoisseur.” Caleb laughed, lips stretched over his straight teeth as he juggled your bags onto one arm, so he could run his hand through his spiked up, dark brown hair. “You know the difference, now, don’t you?”

“Only after you sat me down and made me watch an entire video about how each of them are made differently.” You snorted, pulling at your sleeves as you noticed some civilians trying to slyly take pictures of your little group. “Anyways, we should get going. I want to be back to the compound by five, so I can finish my paperwork.”

“Shoot me a text when you’re done, and we’ll meet you.” Caleb nodded, stepping closer to Vision, “I’ll go show Vision around some kitchen stuff, so he can learn more about cooking.”

“Go nuts.” You waved, looping your arm through Wanda’s so you could follow her along towards the women’s underwear store. You stayed close to her, taking note of all the civilians who seemed to recognize the Avenger, and the soulmate of The Winter Soldier. “So, where did Vision find this newfound love for cooking?”

“He said he wanted to be able to make my favorite dishes, to lift my spirits.” She smiled, eyes lighting up, “Though, he can’t actually taste the food… nor does he eat.”

“It’s the thought that counts.”

When you arrived at the fancy pink and black themed store, you were immediately overwhelmed with lace and silk. There were so many different options, and you had no idea where to even start. There was lingerie, different types of underwear, all types and sizes of bras, robes, pajamas, garter belts, shapewear, and anything else that went under your clothes. There was even an attached subsidiary store for the younger women, which sold the work-out gear that Wanda was mentioning, previously.

“What size are you?” Wanda broke off from you, browsing the racks. “You look like you’re about to have an anxiety attack, just let me handle this.”

You repeated your size, fingers gliding over the silk material of the nearest robe, which was a pale, blush pink with large pockets and lace trim. “I like this.”

“So, buy it.” Wanda replied, hand already full of hangars and undergarments, “We’ll start with bras and lingerie, then move onto work-out clothes and underwear.”

“Do I have to buy lingerie?” You whined, grabbing the hanger with the robe and moving on to a silky nightgown that matched it. “I don’t think I really have any use for it…”

“Yet.” Wanda sung, branching away from you and filling her arms with more items.

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

Bucky: How’s shopping?

You grinned, waiting in the dressing room for Wanda to return with a different size babydoll piece that she claimed was a must-have. Though, everything you’d tried on that fit was apparently a ‘must-have’.

You: Pretty sure I’m lucky Stark doesn’t charge me rent. The dent in my bank account is pretty sizeable. How was your meeting?

Bucky: …do I have to keep going?

You: Yes. It’s part of your deal with the U.S Government.

You: I have no idea where the heck I’m going to put all of these clothes…

Bucky: Just make Wanda organize your closet. She did this crap to all of us. You’re her newest victim. Though, she’s nicer to you and Nat about it, than she was with us. She bullied me the whole time.

You: You’re three times her size you big baby.

Bucky: She’s thrown me through a wall. I choose my battles, now. I just let it happen.

Bucky: We’ve got a three hour slot for the gun range tomorrow, by the way.

You grimaced, as a knock on the dressing room door sounded through the small room.

“I got it.” Wanda called, as you got up and unlocked the door. “I, also, started a small check-out pile for you, so just give me the ‘yes’ pile, so I can go give it to the sales ladies.”

You grabbed the hangers, rolling your eyes as you traded, “Small, my ass.”

“Your ass isn’t small.” She grinned, sending you a wink, “Bucky’s a lucky man.”

“Shut up.” You chuckled, shutting the door on her. You sat back down, quickly typing your reply.

You: UGH. Fine. I’m going to complain, though.

Bucky: I expected nothing less, darlin.

You: Just for that, you don’t get to see anything I bought.

You realized just how dirty that sounded, right after you clicked send.

Oh god, this is how people start sexting conversations…

Oh Jesus Christ, what have you done?!

Your heart leapt from your chest as your phone buzzed in your hand, his reply popping up quickly.

Bucky: Oh? What might that be, darlin?

Say something snarky!

You: That’s for Wanda and I to know, and you to never find out.

Bucky: Wanda’s a lucky woman.

“Did you try it on, yet?” Wanda called, scaring you into dropping your phone and swearing quietly. “I want to see it.”

“Hold on!” You called back, quickly switching the top and trying to contort your arms, so you could close the clasps on the bra part of the outfit. “Okay!”

When you opened the door, letting Wanda slip in, she raised an eyebrow at your flushed appearance. “What’s up with you? Why are you all blushing?”

“I was… texting Bucky.” You admitted, adjusting the strap and looking away from her prying gaze. “I think it turned into something dirty.”

“Let me see!” She squealed, snatching your phone from your hand and glancing over the texts. “Oh my god, you’re flirting with him.”

“I flirt with him, all the time.” You grumbled, sitting down on the small, plush bench. “It’s never been this… inappropriate, before.”

“Wow… this isn’t even inappropriate.” She snorted, rolling her eyes and handing you the phone. “You should send him a picture of what you’re wearing.”

“NO!” You shrieked, hands covering your face. “I’m not ready for that, yet!”

“Fine…” She sighed, putting the items in the ‘no’ pile back on the hangers. “At least take a picture of the bag, so he knows what store you were just at.”

“That… isn’t too bad.” You bit your lip for a moment, willing your cheeks to stop flaming up and removing your hands from your hot face. “This is just… still so new.”

“You’ve had boyfriends before, right?” She asked, gathering all of the hangers of the outfits that didn’t fit. “That guy at the club was your ex, right?”

You groaned, rolling your eyes, “Unfortunately, my exes are all just like him. Self-centered, entitled jackasses.” You shook your head, remembering the faces of the boys your mother forced you to date. “I’ve dated 6 guys in my life, and Jack was the longest… and the last, before Bucky. We dated for a year, until I was eighteen.” You stood up, turning around to remove the lingerie and put your regular clothes back on. “My mother wanted me to date the types of boys who would further her connections as a lawyer. Rich people are always needing a lawyer.”

“Then,” You continued, pulling your shirt back on, “when I broke up with Jack for cheating on me, that’s when I decided that I was going to do what I wanted with my life. I told her I wasn’t going to college to be a lawyer, I got kicked out, and I decided to leave the state to get away from her. We were living in California, at the time, so I moved to Florida to go to college. I didn’t see her until the day I graduated, when she flew all the way to Florida to tell me how much she was disappointed in me…”

You swallowed thickly, willing the negative feelings to leave your body. “I left Florida, following my boss to Rhode Island, and continuing to be a Personal Assistant. She passed away four weeks before I got the job here.”

“I heard about that.” Wanda leaned against the wall, face soft with sympathy, “Pepper and Rhodey where talking about it a few days before you started. Pepper was excited to have someone who studied mental health and have assistant experience. She said she took a chance and was excited when she met you in the interviewing process.”

“Well, I have a lot of reasons to be an advocate for positive mental health.” You lifted your lips a little, meeting her eyes, “After all the shit I went through, in my life, if I could make one person feel like they matter enough to better themselves and have a positive outlook in the world… that’s a win in my book. It’s the reason I chose mental health. I learned so much in my time in therapy, that I wanted to be able to do the same for other people.”

Wanda was silent, eyebrows furrowed together, teeth pressing against her lower lip and chewing on it as she took in your words. After a few moments, her eyes looked a little misty, as she quickly cleared her throat. “You… remind me of someone. Someone who – after all the shit he went through – tried his hardest to help people.” She twisted one of the rings on her thumb, running a finger over the smooth metal, “I think that’s another reason why I like you so much. You remind me of him. He was too good for this world. So are you.”

With that, she quickly darted from the dressing room, muttering about putting the items on the return rack and needing a bottle of perfume.

You picked up your phone, biting your lip as you stared at the picture of you and Bucky from the sushi restaurant that was your background and lock screen. Your heart hurt. It hurt for Wanda, and the person that she was talking about. You didn’t know all the details about her past, but you did know that she had a brother who died. That had to be who she was talking about…

Your phone buzzed in your hand, and a little notification popped up from your old college friend, Farida. She’d replied back to your picture of a scarf you bought her from some fancy name brand store and called you insane for spending that much money on her. Her quirky little text brought a smile to your face, making you instantly feel better.

You quickly replied that you wanted to see her and her husband soon, since they’d moved with their new baby to the New York area, pretty recently.

Another text came in, from Bucky.

Bucky: What’s up? You went a little dark for a second, there. I could feel you from here. Are you okay?

You smiled at his concern, typing out a small reply of being okay, and that you were coming back, soon.

“Y/n, are you ready?” Wanda called into the dressing room, lightly knocking on the door, “The boys want to get back, and I think we’ve bought enough to start your closet.”

“To start my closet?” You scoffed, exiting the little room with the rest of your ‘yes’ pile. “I’m pretty sure you’re going to have to organize all of this for me, so I know where the hell to put it all.”

“I would love to.” She grinned, grabbing your hand and dragging you to the cash register. “I did that for everyone else who has no knowledge in fashion. Who do you think made Bucky buy the leather jacket he likes so much?”

“He does look good in that leather jacket.” You mumbled, sliding your card through the reader. Ignoring the fact that you just bought enough stuff that there was a goddamn comma in the total price and multiple bags of undergarments and work-out gear. “I can’t wait to see Bucky’s eyes bulge from his head at the new leggings.”

“That won’t be the only thing bulging.”

“Wanda!” You squealed, slapping a hand over your face. “I’m seriously burning all your romance novels!”

“Your reactions are just too good to stop!” She laughed, pulling you out the door. “Besides, you’ve been together long enough to start saying naughty things.”

“I don’t actually know if he considers us together.” You mumbled, removing your hand from your face with a small sigh. “I know we tell people we’re soulmates, and the world knows from the TMZ article… but we’ve never actually established any of that stuff.”

She frowned, rolling her eyes in exasperation, “You both act like you’re in a relationship, why not stick a label on it?”

“I don’t know… I don’t exactly see myself with anyone else.” You followed her out of the store, glancing around for Vision and Caleb – not spotting the dark haired man and the android, anywhere. “We just haven’t…”

“DTR? ‘Defined the relationship’?” Wanda supplied, a small smile spreading on her face. “I’ve been watching American reality TV. I’ve been learning the slang.”

“Ew. Watch something that’s actually worth watching… I’ll show you Netflix.” You laughed, as you sat down on the bench to wait for the guys. The mall was starting to get busy, people husting through the crowded halls of the giant building. You watched as a young mother pushed her toddler along in a stroller, her partner walking alongside of her as they made their way into the baby store a few shops down. “This soulmate shit’s weird.”

“I wouldn’t know.” She shrugged, eyes flitting down to your exposed tattoo on your wrist. There was no reason to hide it, anymore, when everyone knew whose soulmate you were. “I don’t have a soulmate.” Her eyes glossed over, lost in a memory that you couldn’t see. “My… my brother had a soulmate, though. He never got to meet her. The poor soul is without him, suffering, and there’s nothing I can do to help them.”

“It happened to my grandma.” You held her hand, which was surrounded in a twisting, red light. “It was the hardest thing she’d ever had to live with… but she managed to live her life. There is always hope.”

“I hope so.” She sighed, realizing that her powers were starting to show in public, and reigning them back in. “At least that’s one less thing I have to worry about in my life. Though… it’d be nice to know that someone is destined to love me… like in the books.”

“Someone does love you.” You smiled, catching sight of the boys, who were leisurely walking down the crowded path. Vision, though wearing civilian clothes, was catching the eyes of everyone around. “Just because you don’t have the tattoo, doesn’t mean that someone isn’t destined to love you.”

She followed your line of sight, cheeks flushing red at the sight of Vision walking with Caleb. “You might be right.”

“I know I am.” You pulled her up, thankful that Caleb had brought your bags to the car. “Now, lets head home. I have to mentally prepare to shoot guns, tomorrow.”

“It’s not that bad.” Caleb snorts, grabbing your bags from your hand and glancing around the shops – as someone with training always does. “Squeeze. Don’t pull. It’s fairly simple.”

“Speak for yourself.”

Part 9

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

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[originaldetectivesheep]

Tales of the Missing 3 - Lo que no se puede llamar "amor"

There are some things expressed without words -- there are some things, for which there are no words, in any tongue, to express.

Lo que no se puede llamar "amor"

Davíd shook his head, not playing along with Miguel's monologue about what he'd do with their client, what he'd do to Nicole who was probably just over through the door into the house, might be hearing what they were saying about her while they were working over the foundations of her mud room.  He couldn't say anything back if he didn't want to get it from him, virgin, little boy even though he had at least a decade on the Mexican mason and two kids – three by now – back in Cúcuta, but there were some things that just weren't right – and there were a lot of people, white people even, around here who knew Spanish.

"Come on, man," Miguel said, reaching up to pick down another brick from the stack, "throw me a bone here.  You seen her, right? She talks to you, man, even if she don't talk to me – you gotta thought about what it would be like, get a piece of that."

Davíd held up his left hand, the plain gold band on his ring finger gleaming through the grimy stone dust.  "I'm a married man, bro; too much to even think about.  All I want to do is get this floor done, get back for Christmas and see my new baby.  I don't got time to jerk off on the job."

Miguel shook his head, trying to do sad but not getting much past disappointed.  "Your wife got you whipped, man; no good." He seated the brick in and scraped out the extra mortar as it squeezed up at the seams.

Davíd just gave him a look.  "Nobody's whipped: I do my job, I send the money, and Felicia takes care of the kids. Three now – I ain't showed you Jorge's pictures yet.  How many you got with your motel girls from Randolph?"  That shut him up, and Davíd took down a couple more bricks to finish laying the corner.

Still, though, Davíd thought as they worked, Miguel finding other things to rant about, he had eyes.  Nicole was a picture: the look people went for when they cast hot rich housewives in novelas and pornos, always perfectly made up but like she wasn't wearing anything, that soft brown hair twisted up in a chignon at the back of her head, stylish even in the loose comfortable clothes she put on to sit around the house.  Maybe she was making an extra effort because there were strangers in and she didn't want them to think she was sloppy – maybe she was making an effort because there was something else there.

Miguel was right – she talked to him.  She talked with Finn, the boss, when they were coming in and out, businesslike, making plans, making sure the invoices came, that the schedule worked, and she'd talked at everyone in a few stilted words of high-school Spanish on the couple times she brought out coffee or water on breaks, but she talked to him more – she maybe talked to him special, or maybe he was just dazzled by her eyes, her smile, and didn't see it when she might be talking the same to other guys.  But she did talk to him, yeah, going through the house to use the downstairs guest toilet, or when he was the last one out picking up tools and making sure the dust got swept out of everywhere it shouldn't be, unplugging the heater, and any time she did she had a smile for him – a smile and the feeling like she might want to put an ivory-white, manicured hand on his scarred brown arm.  What was it, that bit, right before Thankgiving, that day they were sprinting to get the front steps done in time for them to set before her guests started rolling up?  

"So how do you say 'Happy Thanksgiving' in Spanish?" she'd asked, while he was scraping flecks out of his pants on the back steps. "Feliz día de Acción de Gracias," he'd answered, not getting it, and then she'd smiled pure golden sunshine.  "Feliz día de Acción de Gracias," she said, slow and careful and making sure the vowels were right, the accent in the right place; "that's funny – I thought it was 'Happy Thanksgiving in Spanish'."  She'd giggled a little, and he smiled, too – bad jokes, dad jokes, but you didn't do dad jokes with strangers unless you thought, even a little, that you might want to be a little more familiar: someone you could let your guard down with and just be silly, be comfortable, be yourself, be together. And if Nicole was like that with him, when she was like that with him, Davíd couldn't help feeling something for her: not love like he had with Felicia and the way he felt when he was home with her, the kids around the house with her, lying in bed with her nestled in his arms, and it wasn't lust like he'd had back when he was chasing her, back before her like when he just wanted to grab a girl and drag her in, kiss her deep, push her down, take her body and make her moan and beg for it.  It was something else, something different: something like it was both and neither and the other side of the universe from anything like it, a passion that didn't make any damn sense and ran up on his heart out of nowhere like it was about to explode.

They got the bricks laid down, the whole of the under-layer finished, and now all that was left was to set.  Davíd and Miguel wrestled the pallet of tiles up out of the truck while Finn measured again, and it turned out the room was half an inch shorter and almost an inch less wide than he thought: they'd have to cut the tiles and the saw wasn't in the truck.  "No sense not doing a full day," he said, "we can't lay the tile today, but we can cut the ones that need cutting, and they'll be ready when we come back, and we can get the whole floor done in one shot.  Miguel, come with and help me move it; Davíd, I guess you stick here and keep an eye on the gear and the tiles.  I don't need to lug the two of yous around."  Finn beckoned back out at the truck in the driveway, and Miguel shrugged and followed him out; Davíd sat down on the steps and thought about a cigarette, then thought better of it: it was still Nicole's house, still her rules.

"You're – Finn didn't leave for the day, did he?" Davíd started a little, because he hadn't heard her come up – hadn't heard her open the door behind him.

"No, ma'am – he measure the floor.  We need to cut the tiles.  They go and get the saw – we not done today, yet."  She was as beautiful as ever, one arm reaching up along the side of the doorframe such that her lopsided blouse looked like it was about to fall clean off her other shoulder, and he was covered in mortar grit, a dozen nicks and pricks from stone edges and corners swelling up and puffing over on his hands.

"Well, you don't need to sit out on the stoop waiting for him," she said, and paused for a second – that she paused at all made it significant, made it something, made Davíd's heart jump up into his throat.  "Won't you come inside?" He nodded, tongue sticking dry in his mouth, and stood up to follow her back in through the door.

"I've got to say, it's coming along really well," Nicole said, nodding at the mud room.  "But it has to set, right?  So you won't be putting the tiles on today?"

Davíd nodded. "Yes, ma'am; that's right."  It was good to talk about work – less nervous, less conscious that it was just him and just her in this house, alone.

"But then, after that, you have to come back again to redo the baseboards for the new floor."  She turned around, facing him, not close really but so close, so close – "And wouldn't that be getting late?  Wouldn't that be cutting it close – to go back to Colombia and see your family for Christmas?"  There was a different note in her voice – not messing, but a strange soft tone like she was invested, like it mattered, like almost she felt bad about taking him away from his wife and kids she'd never met, never seen.

Davíd shook his head and cracked a smile.  "Yes, ma'am; it probably be late, but I make it work.  I got to be back this time – my wife have a new baby and I not seen him in person yet."  He shook his head again.  "I just keep looking at the pictures she send – I run my phone battery out, all the time."

"I –"  She paused in the kitchen doorway, brushing at a phantom strand of hair that wasn't on her cheek.  "I've seen – and I thought about it, that it wasn't fair that you're always running out your phone showing the pictures to the other workers.  And, right, you must be looking at them again, all the time, when you're home – so I thought, and it's probably too much, and maybe it's a dumb gift, but – I'd like you to have this."  She reached around the corner and came back with a plain, budget, digital picture frame, and pushed it into Davíd's hands, her own hands soft and warm and alive on his.  "Feliz Navidad."

He took it, not quite understanding the why, not understanding at all that soft and breathless feeling in her voice, and like his arms were moving all of their own accord he reached out and wrapped around and held her close.  Nicole gasped a little at the initial shock, but instantly, when she wasn't kissed, when she felt him, his body, close against her and she could feel that strange and raging and nameless and inscrutable passion from every pore, a tension vibrating on the same frequency as her own heart, she understood – or didn't and she was just reacting, too, her hands pressing in on his back, not seeking or desiring anything else but this embrace, this moment, ready for it to last forever and the rest of the world to drop out and fade out around them.

This wasn't love – whatever this feeling was, it couldn't be called love.  Love made demands and asked for changes: love made children and reached for big houses and knitted together to make one life out of two.  And this wasn't lust, a lust that would have torn down this embrace into desperate thrusting, to take and be taken before anyone could have second thoughts.  This was something else and it made no sense and it didn't need to, sole and solitary and self-sufficient, two people who needed merely this from each other and understood the need and desired nothing but its fulfillment, nothing else in the world, nothing.

Out in the driveway, the truck's tires spun on the gravel out by the street, and the spell was broken.  "Gracias, señora," Davíd said, the hand not holding the picture frame barely tracing on Nicole's arm as she released as well, her hands feathering down to his waist.  "Y feliz Navidad." She smiled, and just like that the last touch was gone.

Maybe, that was it as Miguel and Finn toted the saw and the table inside, plugging it in while Davíd organized up a stack of tiles and stowed the picture frame under the front flap of his overalls.  Maybe that would be it, only ever a few words more and the job would be done and they would never see each other again.  But even if it was, they had had that moment – they would always have that secret, that bond between them that couldn't ever be called love.

further Tales of the Missing ...

[writingdummy]

coming home to you

pairing: jeon wonwoo x reader genre: fluff word count: 2.1k admin: mingyu omg wow i know right a/n: haha long time no see i hope you like this shitty piece of writing that admin jun really likes and was written for @svteenthings​

The light snowfall in the still of the night gave the expressionless man a sense of relief. It was subzero but not cold enough to give him frostbite as he stood, puffs of air emitted from his lips as clouds being vapourized as he filtered the air. The contrast of the warm air against his icy, thin frames that sat on the bridge of his nose made them fog up unnecessarily. With a simple, swift motion, he pulled away his scarf from his mouth, lips parting from the dry, stark air embracing the skin it couldn’t obtain the moisture of before.

He didn’t notice the stares of people walking by as he leaned against the cool light post, that had a light bulb that was ready to be replaced. He now leaned his head against the surface of the metal post, not noticing the frozen moisture on the lamp post melting and seeping through a few layers of his thick coat. The flickering of the yellow-tinted light from up above him didn’t faze his cold stare off into the distance as if he was deep in thought. Of course, didn’t it seem as though he was waiting for someone?

Alas, it did definitely seem this way - almost as if he was a well sculpted statue -  but in the reality of things, his rather still figure suddenly came to life, as if someone had just prodded him gently through the layers of his long jacket and the knit turtleneck he wore underneath to keep him warm in the shallow wintry days.

The bright white headlights of a seemingly passing car made him squeeze his eyes shut, raising a hand to shield his eyes, scrunching his nose in slight distaste as the car pulled up in front of him. The sound of the window rolling down though made him attentive as he moved his gloved hand away, tucking it back in his pocket to preserve his warmth even in the gentle cold. A younger looking man sat in the driver’s seat, black hair sitting neatly on his head. There was no sorts of effort put into the style, but it was still very stylish. Of course his outfit on the other hand was very trendy, even coming into the early months of the year when it was deathly cold in their country.

“Need a lift?”

The almost smug smile of the man sitting in the driver’s seat made him think twice about the offer before realizing that paying him gas money would probably be cheaper than getting a taxi even if gas was more expensive these days. But thinking through the pros and cons of the situation, getting into his car meant sitting somewhere warm with a driver he could trust rather than someone random who recently passed their driver’s exam and was not safe with their maneuvers. He pulled open the door wordlessly by the handle as the window closed once more, the younger man in the driver’s seat drew a sigh in relief as the door closed with a small thud.

“I could feel my nose getting runny, Wonwoo. It’s your fault if I get sick,” said the younger man with a playful jut of his lower lip adorning his thin pink lips. His face was flushed from the momentary meeting of the air from outside with his skin, compared to the dry yet warm air that embraced him as he reached out to turn the knob. The blast of warm air made the older of the two shiver in delight, feeling his fingertips melt as if they were ice meeting a hot pan on the stove.

The brown haired man named Wonwoo couldn’t help but feel a twinge of annoyance building up in his chest as he braved the younger’s joke with a pitiful smile despite feeling the trembling of his bones deep beneath his pale skin. He pressed his slightly cracked lips together, rubbing them as if he was wearing his usual minty lip balm to restore some heat into them. His tongue pressed against the roof of his mouth to let out a cluck of disapproval. He didn’t even need to move his gaze to the younger man to know what kind of expression he was wearing.

“Let’s just get going. Idling on the side of the road isn’t good for the environment, Mingyu.”

Taking a tight hold onto the clasp between the passenger seat and driver’s seat, the driver whose name was Mingyu pulled the car’s mode into ‘drive’ and set off successfully and safely. Whirring through the quiet streets was quite peaceful, especially with the quiet noise of the radio and their breathing. Wonwoo rested his elbow on the cushioned armrest attached to the door, resting his jaw in his palm as he waited, stone-faced as he stared out to his surroundings.

The irony that he didn’t think about being outside, enjoying the crisp weather while he was there.

The car slowed to a stop in front of a tall glass building, a rather familiar sight to both the men. Wonwoo tucked one of his hands back in his pocket as he got out of the car, leaning down after getting out.

“Thank you for the ride.”

The genuine smile that played on Mingyu’s lips at that moment couldn’t help but make him return the expression gratefully to the younger boy, though looking away from him as if he wouldn’t catch it. With a small wave from Mingyu that he could see from his peripheral vision despite how blurry it was, he closed the door at that moment, off to find the apartment room that felt like home. Home was where the heart was after all.

The wait in the elevator felt longer than it usually did but that may have been because there were usually more people getting off on floors before he did. He was arriving rather late at night, when everything was still, peaceful and calm compared to the usual rush of the city even during the earlier hours of the evening as the sky was painted with beautiful pinks and oranges.

The silence was rather nice after a day with the boys of his group. He tuned into the music softly playing in the elevator, reminded of a melody that he had helped to compose while in the practice room one night with the shortest of the bunch of them, Jihoon. He couldn’t help but smile fondly to himself as he looked down to the tiled floor of the elevator, running the sole of of his shoe across the smooth floor as he recalled the look on the younger one’s face as he had strung together a beautiful melody. Sadly, it sounded too similar to another song they were both a fan of by IU, or else it would’ve been used.

The ding that sounded through the quiet and still atmosphere alarmed him though, a quiet gasp escaping his lips as the doors in front of him slipped open. He pressed his lips into a line as he took a step out into the corridor, knowing well that other people awake at this time would be too tired to recognize him if they really could. Pulling his scarf down, he pulled a set of keys from his coat’s pocket which also had his company access card on it. He unlocked the door quietly, turning the knob. He bit his tongue gently though as the door creaked quietly, a thud sounding out. It made him flinch very noticeably as his eyes adjusted to the dimly lit surroundings compared to the corridor he had just entered from. He slowly closed the door behind him, slipping off his shoes by the entrance before heading to the kitchen to begin preparing himself a late night - or in this case, early morning - snack.

But the moment arms wrapped around his waist, he bit his lip, sharply inhaling as he did so. The crinkling noises of the ramyeon package he had begun to open must’ve sounded a lot louder than he thought it had through the apartment from the small kitchen. He felt her head rest against his back, as if she was urging him to continue on with preparing the late night snack. Yet the groggy voice that spoke out to him in slight slurs had him smiling to himself, in awe of how his girlfriend was so cute.

“You’re home so late,” she said quietly, moving to adjust the blanket she had wrapped around herself that had rested upon her earlier when she had been asleep on the couch whilst watching a television show on Netflix. He guessed that Netflix had stalled for a while, seeing as though she was ahead a few more episodes than was normally possible for her in a day.

Wonwoo only hummed with lack of a better response. He was tired as well as he felt the toll of the practice he had done earlier that day. The hours had droned on… Passing time wasn’t as easy as it used to be. Lately it had been this way though, with comeback preparations already underway, even while midst their current one as is. All the members of his group were incredibly hardworking, and he couldn’t have imagined not being amongst the amazing people he worked with. They were all so fun.

Although he did wish from time to time that he could do places and do things that people in their 20s would do, and sort those issues out together with a lot of alcohol, partying and meeting new people. All three of those things were always very hard to handle with a man like him, who didn’t bother to learn about the party scene or even much about socializing to begin with.

The soft snores that came out from behind him though brought him back to reality as he popped the ramyeon cake in the water that had been boiling for a little while. He attempted not to shift too much, although it was hard, especially with the girl’s head resting between his shoulder blades at around his spine. The tall boy couldn’t see how it was any comfortable though. As he added the rest of the ingredients, he felt the figure behind him jolt awake. This made him turn around while holding her arms, smiling a bit as he wrapped his arms around her after letting go.

“Y/N?”

The small hum against his chest made him close his eyes, almost forgetting for a moment to continue.

“Should I take you to bed?”

The nod against his chest was felt before the girl began to shake her head frantically. Her warm breath through his sweater hit his chest and he couldn’t help but release a laugh as he kneeled down in front of her with his back facing her after taking the pot off the stove. She slouched a bit, wrapping her blanket around her further as she leaned down to climb on, resting her cheek against his shoulder as she positioned her arms around him. He held her thighs with a firm grasp as he raised himself slowly, their soft breathing sounding through the hall as he began to walk to one of the two small bedrooms which had a double bed in it. The door was propped open slightly.

Wonwoo prodded the door open with his foot, to not let her fall as he moved to enter the bedroom. The disorganization of the room made him smile a bit more than he’d admit to, pressing his lips into a line to attempt to suppress the lifting of the corners of his mouth. He sat down on the unmade bed, attempting not to bounce on it as he slowly loosened the grip he had on the soft flesh of her thighs. But as his grip loosened, her grip around his neck tightened although still loose from being incredibly groggy.

“Don’t go,” her voice croaked out, a shiver running down his spine from the sound of her voice.

The heavy pit of guilt made his stomach drop intensely, deciding against leaving to eat before going to bed. Instead, he gently kissed the top of her head after turning around, smiling gently as he pushed her over playfully.

“Wait here, I’ll be back.”

After putting a lid over the pot, brushing his teeth and changing into a long sleeved shirt and comfortable pants, he slipped under the covers next to her, moving to wrap his arms around her. He pecked her cheek gently before closing his eyes and letting slumber take over him finally after so long.

[aburntship]

New Post has been published on AMEPAC Furniture

New Post has been published on https://amepac.org/bathroom/decorating-the-bathroom-on-budget-cool-diy-ideas-you-should-try/

Decorating The Bathroom On Budget – Cool DIY Ideas You Should Try

We don’t typically think of bathrooms as being stylish but that doesn’t mean they can’t or shouldn’t be beautiful and charming. This is one of those times when the little things matter and that’s exactly what we’re going to focus on today. Get ready to be bombarded with a ton of cool bathroom decorating ideas on a budget, each meant to improve the space without breaking the bank. These ideas will show you how to keep the bathroom remodel cost low by crafting all the accessories yourself. In order words, let’s plan a DIY bathroom remodel!

In every bathroom there are those everyday must-have items like the toothbrushes or the liquid soap dispenser. Since you basically have to have these things anyway, why not make them look nice and turn them into decorations? This brings us to our first DIY project which comes from yourdiyfamily. Its mail goal is to teach you how to make a stylish wall-mounted toothbrush holder so be sure to check out the tutorial if you like the design.

But what about the makeup brushes? They can get pretty annoying because they leave stains everywhere and they also roll right off a shelf or counter if you’re not careful. Well worry about that no more because we found a way to store them in a way that’s practical and that also looks nice at the same time. The solution comes from fun365.orientaltrading and involves the repurposing of mason jars plus lots of beads and cute tags tied with leather cord.

Having all sorts of beautiful and useful accessories and toiletries in the bathroom is definitely nice and all but they need to be stored or displayed somehow too and for that we suggest this easy-to-build and wall cubby. You can find the tutorial along with everything else you need to know about the project on fun365.orientaltrading.

Next up, a really cool idea for a toilet paper cover planter. The gist of the project is that you can make a faux planter with a hollow interior so you can hide an roll of toilet paper inside it. Keep it on top of the toilet or on a shelf and never be caught off guard. Also, that extra tp roll won’t look unaesthetic and your guests will have something cool to talk about when they discover this stash. Find out the details on ohohblog.

Baths can be really relaxing but sometimes you feel the need to do something while you’re soaking in the tub and that’s actually what trays/ bath tables are for. In case you don’t have one yet, be sure to check out lovecreatecelebrate to find out how to craft a bath table with built-in glass holders from scratch.

Some of the things we mention in this article are fun to have around while others are items that everyone has in their bathroom in one form or another, such as the bathroom rug. Most rugs or mats are plain and boring so if you want one that’s also funky you either have to be lucky finding one in a store or you have to craft yourself. We’re big fans of the latter so here’s one of our favorite DIY bathroom rugs. It’s made of pom-poms and was featured on mallooknits.

Open shelves are great in the bathroom because they don’t take much space, they can be installed anywhere and they’re easy to put together which makes them great DIY projects. We have a funky examples for you to take a look at. It’s a project from heylilahey and it shows you how you can use copper pipes an fittings plus some wooden boards to build a shelving unit for your bathroom.

Speaking of common things that everyone has in their bathroom, a soap dish is an interesting case now that liquid soap dispensers are around. In any case, if you do use one, be sure to check out lovecreatecelebrate to find out how you can make it out of concrete. It’s one of the simplest projects ever and there are plenty of cool ways in which you can make the design your own.

Let’s not forget about the always useful towel rack. Sure, those radiators that double as towel racks are pretty practical but a bathroom still needs a separate hook or two because these are not just for towels but also for bath robes, clothes and other things. Want to see how you can make a lovely farmhouse-style rack? You can find all the details on angelamariemade.

Aren’t these shelves charming? The horseshoe accessories are both practical and decorative at the same time and the actual shelves are easy and inexpensive to make which means that decorating the bathroom on a budget is actually quite simple. We suggest using reclaimed wood for this because it has more character plus it’s cheaper and chances are you already have some leftover pieces from other projects. To learn more about the requirements, head over to mountainmodernlife.

The shower curtain is another important element in a bathroom’s interior design and decor. A lot of times it’s a must-have, not just a decorative element. That being said, it’s totally understandable to want to customize this element. A particularly interesting idea in this sense can be to make a macrame shower curtain by gluing lace onto a plain and regular curtain. The inspiration for this comes from abeautifulmess.

Another idea can be to paint a plain shower curtain. You could create an ombre effect and you could even use a stencil to paint something on top, like this “I woke up like this” text featured on abeautifulmess. The project is not as messy as you’d think and it really encourages one’s creativity.

A box would come in handy for all those small items that usually clutter up the counter space or the cabinet. Of course, a simple cardboard box isn’t very aesthetically pleasing so you should find a way to customize it somehow. One option is to wrap rope around the outside of the box and to cover the interior with some fabric as shown on ourkidthings. You can use the box to organize toiletries and other things.

Let’s talk about shelves a bit more. We found these really cool DIY marble shelves on abeautifulmess and we really like the direction the project is headed. We’re pretty excited about the idea of having a way to put those leftover tiles you might have from previous home renovations to good use by attaching them to wood boards to make these lovely bathroom accessories.

These rustic-industrial bathroom shelves featured on cherishedbliss are quite charming too and so is that sign. Isn’t it amazing how much something as small and as simple as a sign can change the decor and the ambiance of a room? The shelves themselves don’t lack character either, especially with that worn look and the industrial details.

Not totally committed to the idea of attaching shelves directly onto the bathroom walls? That’s understandable in some cases. But what about the ceiling? Maybe you could use that surface somehow. The swing shelf featured on deeplysouthernhome shows you how such a strategy can work out. This is basically a swing used as a shelf. It’s fun, unusual and pretty all at the same time.

Looking for a way to organize and group up the items on your bathroom counter? Use mason jars. They’re great for that and you can paint them to make them look pretty or so they can match the accent color you’ve chosen for your bathroom. If you like this vintage look showcased here then check out the tutorial on masonjarcraftslove to learn how to obtain it.

You know those bath mats that are rigid and don’t actually soak the water but let it drip onto the floor? They’re quite nice even though they’re not soft and fluffy. They’re also quite easy to craft in case you’re interested in the idea. We found a nice tutorial on themerrythought which could help.

Everyone has at least one or two mason jars around the house and if you don’t you can just buy something that comes in a jar and use the content. You can then repurpose the jar and turn it into a soap dispenser. You’ll obviously need to make a few modifications to the jar itself. You’ll require a soap pump, some spray paint, a paring knife, glue and sandpaper. With these things you’ll be able to make a unique mason jar soap dispenser that you can proudly display on your bathroom counter.

Decorating a bathroom on a budget is easier than you think as proven by all the cool DIY projects we’ve gathered here but the list is not over. We have plenty of things to share with you today, like this nautical towel holder that would be absolutely perfect for a beach house bath or any nautical-themed home. As you can imagine, it’s super easy to put together but check out h2obungalow just to be sure everything is done right.

Most bathrooms have cabinets which are great for storing a bunch of things and for keeping them out of sight. You might think there’s not much you can do to improve or to personalize a cabinet’s design or look but that’s not actually true. One of the options is to give the cabinet a cool barn-style door like the one featured on shanty-2-chic.

Let’s not forget about the lighting fixtures. Their role in very important in any bathroom. Did you know you can make your own bathroom light fixtures if you want to? We suggest an industrial fixture because it’s easier to put together and because the design can be simple and even a bit rough around the edges. This one, for instance, has three Edison-style bulbs and can be installed above the bathroom mirror.

Yes, I know we’ve already discussed shelves and we showed some great design ideas but let’s check out one more project. These DIY floating shelves stand out through the fact that they’re unusually thick. That gives them a sturdy and also minimalist look which would suit most modern and contemporary bathrooms.

Not enough room in your tiny bathroom for wall-mounted shelves? Well don’t be disappointed about that too much because there’s probably one space which you didn’t take into consideration: the portion of wall above the door. That’s actually a perfect place for a storage shelf. You could use it to keep extra towels or toilet paper rolls up there or to display things like small planters or cute little flower vases.

We almost forget about the mirror which is perhaps the most important bathroom accessory. You can change the look of your bathroom by simply replacing the old mirror with a new one. It could be nice to try a different shape and even a different size this time. You can install the mirror yourself if you follow some easy steps. Check out the instructions on how to professionally install a bathroom mirror first.

There are also a few things you can do to make your existing bathroom furniture look nicer and to give it a fresh and new look. For instance, you could give the vanity a quick makeover. You can change its look from boring and generic into original and chic. This can be done by slightly altering the design of the drawer fronts and by installing new hardware. You can find more tips and ideas in the project describing how to turn a builder-grade vanity into a custom piece.

Perhaps your countertop could use a makeover too. Replacing the counter with a new one can often be an expensive project plus that would mean you’d have to make other changes around it as well and at the end of the day it’s just not worth it. On the other hand, simply change the look of the existing counter sounds like a more appealing option. Perhaps you’d like to try this faux marble countertop look. Spoiler alert: it’s actually concrete.

If by chance there’s any space next to your toilet, you could fit this brass toilet paper holder in there. Well, the actual top holder is actually just a small part of this wooden organizer but you get the idea. There’s a compartment in there for the brush too so you don’t have to keep it on the floor anymore.

Speaking of DIY brass toilet paper holders, we have one more project to show you on this subject. This one is in fact just that: a separate wall-mounted toilet paper holder and its design is simple and quite elegant actually, with a bit of industrial flair. Check out the full article to find out what you need in order to make something similar.

Right now you should have a general idea of how you can decorate and personalize your bathroom on a budget and we hope you’ll try some of the projects we showed you here today. Remember that the finishing touches are important and that the little things matter.

The post Decorating The Bathroom On Budget – Cool DIY Ideas You Should Try appeared first on Home Decorating Trends – Homedit.

[newkate]

Siege Harder

For @noirearrowshoot: a Die Hard / Dragon Age 2 mashup for @teamblueandangry Let it Glow event!

mHanders, sfw. CW: about as bloody and violent as Die Hard and DA2. But actually fluff. ~4,5k.

During Satinalia week the College of Enchanters was always almost empty. Most students and staff went home, to celebrate with their families or catch up with their friends. The only children left were the ones who didn’t have a home to go back to: orphans, or those who’d been disowned by their parents when their magic came in. That happened rarely now, mostly in remote and fervently devout areas of Ferelden and Anderfels. Every year one teacher stayed in the College with them, helped them put together their daily meals and a little holiday feast, and made sure the little ones weren’t scared to sleep in their emptied dorms.

This year it was Anders’ turn. Hawke grumbled, of course, but he understood. They lived in town, a short walk from the College, they spent every night together. He would be fine alone for just a week. He could use the opportunity to spend more time with Bethany’s brood, remind them he was definitely their best and most beloved uncle, no matter how hard Uncle Varric tried to buy their allegiance with thrilling stories and lavish presents or how allegedly cool and handsome Uncle Fenris was.

Still, Hawke could visit his husband and bring him Satinalia treats. That wasn’t clingy or lovesick, that was just good manners.

He bought a few things at the market: some sugared plums and roasted nuts, some toys for the little magelings. He walked to the College Square, whistling a festive tune, and then his hands went numb and all the lovingly wrapped parcels spilt into frozen mud.

There was a templar on the main balcony. He was at the same spot where Dean Fiona would stand at the start of each term, to address the new intake of students and their families. Seeing the shiny helmet there instead of her smiling face felt like the worst kind of nightmare.

“Magic must be leashed!” the man yelled. “Magic must serve us! We must cleanse this place!”

There were others, more helmets bobbing in the doorway behind him. The great doors, the main entrance to the College, had always been flung wide open in daytime despite the drafts it caused in the lobby in winter. The mages wanted to have that symbol: the College was free, open to the world. Now the doors were shut. There were a couple of city guards pushing and pulling at them, but by the way the doors didn’t budge at all they seemed to be barred from the inside.

A crowd of townspeople gathered under the balcony, exchanging worried words. Two full squads of city guards were there, shuffling in place, probably awaiting orders.

“What’s going on?” Hawke asked the nearest one.

“Templars,” the woman said. “Templars came from Maker knows where. Took the College, shut the doors, said they’d kill the kids if we try to siege. How many kids are there?”

“About two dozen,” Hawke muttered and stepped closer to the building.

“Anders!” he yelled through his cupped hands. “Anders! Anders!”

The templar on the balcony stopped the speech and probably glared at him - not that Hawke could tell through the helmet.

“Anders!” he kept going. “Anders!”

Two floors above the balcony a window opened and a dear, beloved face peeked out, and Hawke nearly whimpered in relief.

“Hello, love!” Anders yelled, smiling, a gave him a wave. “We’re all fine, we locked ourselves in the library! The kids are being really brave! I’m just trying to figure out how…”

“No!” Hawke screamed. “Stay put, babe! Don’t do anything! I got you, you just stay safe!”

More templars popped out onto the balcony and craned their heads up to look at him. Hawke tensed, expecting them to hit Anders with a smite, but they made no attempt to. He was probably out of range.

“You don’t have to!” Anders screamed, smiling wider. “It’s fine, really!”

“No! Look after the kids, just be safe!” Hawke answered, and then, in front of half the town and all those mystery templars, blushing like a girl, he yelled on top of his lungs: “I love you!”

“I love you too!” Anders replied, leaning out of the window more, as if he wanted to leap into Hawke’s arms - and how wonderful would that be, if Hawke could really catch him like that and whisk him away from danger.

“Don’t you dare!” the templar roared. “Don’t anyone fucking dare get in here! You two, get away from the doors! If the city values these children’s lives, nobody will interfere with our work! We need four covered carts drawn by good horses in front of these doors by noon. We will take the children to a safe location and check them for possessions. We will release everyone who’s clean…”

Hawke dramatically flipped the templar off and ran into an alley leading away from the College. He needed some supplies, but mostly he needed to disguise his approach. They wouldn’t know what would hit them.

Half an hour later, armed and extremely dangerous, the former Champion of Kirkwall sleekly penetrated the templars’ defences through the laundry room window.

He nearly got stuck in there. He spent a few horrifying, humiliating moments wriggling in the narrow frame, frantically trying to suck his stomach in. He should have expected this, really - he’d barely managed to squeeze into his old armour. Quite a few belts had to be left unfastened, which, in his opinion, looked dashing and stylish.

Eventually he struggled through, softly landed on the tiled floor and tiptoed toward the main entrance.

There were two templars by the barred doors. They were busy ripping coat hangers out of the cloak room. Some other broken furniture were already piled in front of the door to reinforce it in case of a siege. Hawke cut them both down before they could reach for their swords. He moved the barricade, unbarred the doors and lingered there, considering his next move.

He could open the doors and let the city guard in. But that would alert the rest of the templars right away, and any chance of subtlety would be lost with a throng of flat-footed guards bumbling around the place. It didn’t matter if Anders and the children were safe in the library, but if the templars would manage to capture them…

No. He’d handle this on his own.

Hawke considered the layout of the place, the routes to the library and best possible spots for traps and ambushes, and began working his way up.

The next two templars he came across were at the doors of the College vault, trying to tamper with the locks. Hawke was going to sneak closer to watch and listen and figure out what they were up to, but, as it turned out, the last fifteen years of happy, sedate married life took their toll not just on his waist circumference. His steps were a lot heavier now. The templars heard him, wheeled around and drew their swords, and he had to kill them both before he could find an opening to secure and interrogate at least one.

Hawke took his boots off after that and proceeded soundlessly. The next templar he found was in the Dean’s office, swigging her prized Orlesian brandy straight from the bottle and rummaging through her desk.

“Hello,” said Hawke, stepping up to him from behind, and put the point of his dagger to the man’s inner thigh through his skirt. “Nice and easy now, if that goes through your femoral artery--”

The templar screamed, twisted around, carelessly sliced himself on the knife and smashed his bottle over Hawke’s head. Hawke staggered backwards, a little dazed, and cut his right heel open on a bottle shard. The templar reached for his sword, and managed to half-draw it before collapsing in the pool of his own blood, his skirts turning redder.

There were clanging footsteps in the corridor: several templars were running here, alerted by the scream. Hawke slipped outside, wrapped his neck scarf over his foot to stop smearing bloody prints over the floor, dashed around the corner, curled in the empty dumbwaiter shaft and closed the hatch behind himself.

If they found him here, he’d have no choice but to kill them. But what he really needed was intelligence on their numbers and intentions.

“Dead,” said one of the templars once they reached the Dean’s office. “Go check on the others downstairs.”

Someone clanged past Hawke’s hideout and soon announced the discovery of the other bodies.

“I bet it’s that fat old man with the stupid beard,” said someone else and Hawke tried to memorise the voice to be sure to kill that one with extreme prejudice. He was not fat, and only forty seven, and his beard was gorgeous. Anders adored it.

“Look, these tracks, that must be his blood. He’s wounded. He won’t be trouble much longer.”

“Still, we better make sure…”

They moved away, and he couldn’t hear them anymore. But it stood to reason that they would search this floor and guard the staircases. Hawke climbed up the shaft, fumbling and slipping in the darkness, as far as it would take him. It didn’t go all the way to the library floor, but it made a decent shortcut, anyway.

This level of the College was mostly classrooms, where the students could practice their spells without endangering priceless books in the library. There were no signs of the templars here so far. Hawke curled on a chair by a window in an empty classroom to pick glass out of his foot, rest his tired muscles and have a little think.

Something had been bothering him about these templars since he saw and heard the first one, out there on the balcony, and only now he’d managed to put his finger on it. It’s been fifteen years since the Circles had been abolished and the templar order effectively disbanded. Hawke had been thirty two back then, but of course plenty of templars had to be as young as nineteen. Still, even those would be in their mid-thirties by now. But all the templars he’d come across had seemed younger. Suddenly he regretted not taking their helmets off to make sure. Where had they been hiding all that time? Where did they get their lyrium from, come to think of it?

There was a soft sound outside, and Hawke drew his daggers and hopped there on his good foot to take a look.

There was a boy of about eighteen, in College apprentice robes, huddled under a desk in one of the empty classrooms. He saw Hawke loom in a doorway and flung his arms out, as if about to cast an offencive spell.

“It’s all right,” Hawke said. “I won’t hurt you. What’s going on here?”

“I don’t know,” the boy said. “I got separated from the others, I think they hid. The templars are going to kill us, aren’t they? I’m so scared!”

“We’ll be fine. I can use a little help, though. What’s your name?”

“Jean…”

“I’m Garrett. What schools do you specialise in?”

“I’m… not very good,” the boy said meekly. “Can’t really control what happens, it just goes wild. In the olden times I’d be Tranquil by now.”

“No worries, we all learn at our own pace. My nephew iced himself to the floor just the other week, shit happens. He’s five, though, but I’m sure you’ll both get it when it’s time. Come on, we better get this over with. Do you know how many templars are there?”

“Lots. Maybe thirty. Shouldn’t we just wait here? What can we do against so many, we’ll both die!”

“We won’t,” Hawke said soothingly. He led Jean into another classroom and shut the door behind them. “I have a few tricks up my sleeve.”

“The stairs are that way…” Jean gestured behind them.

“Sure, but they must expect me to come up there. I know a secret passage, it’s over here. We’ll flank them and pick them out one by one.”

There was no secret passage, of course. They were almost up to the blind wall that didn’t connect with the library floor in any way when Jean fell back a little, drew a dagger from his sleeve and aimed a confident stab between Hawke’s ribs.

Hawke caught his hand mid-swing and broke his wrist with one vicious twist. Jean wailed in pain and fell to his knees, and Hawke perched himself on a desk and disapprovingly shook his head.

“Backstabbing an old rogue? Really, did you think that would work? And, just so you know, these robes are tailored for every apprentice, and yours don’t fit. Come on now, how many of you really are there?”

“Help!” Jean yelled. “Attack, now!”

“The rooms here are soundproof,” Hawke said. “The kids cast tempests here all day every day, the walls and the doors are very thick. Answer the question.”

Jean spat out a string of curses, cradling his broken wrist to his chest. Now that he didn’t keep up a carefully gormless wide-eyed expression he didn’t look as young, but still seemed barely in his twenties.

“All right, let me introduce myself properly,” Hawke said. “I’m Garrett Hawke, the husband of the man you have trapped up there. I used to be pretty famous when I was the Champion of Kirkwall. And afterwards for a bit. If you know me from The Tale of the Champion, you don’t really know me. Varric, bless his britches, left out a lot of ugly stuff. Like the agony I can inflict on you with or without my knives, while keeping you alive. Please don’t make me do that. How many of you are there?”

“There was ten of us before you showed up,” Jean gritted out. “You killed my best friend, you fuck!”

“Oh, I went through half of you already? Good. Now, explain to me why do I have templars in my city fifteen years after the order was abolished. You must have been, what, seven, when the last templar snorted up his last doze of lyrium? Is someone still training you in secret? Come to think of it, why haven’t I seen any smiting from you lot?”

Jean bared his teeth in defiance, and Hawke sighed and reached for his knife.

“We’re not really templars,” Jean said quickly. “We got the armour from that crazy old man who used to collect them.”

“Names, please. What man, where?”

“I don’t know, some guy in Kirkwall, we didn’t ask his name. We got word he had lots of good stuff in his basement, but there was mostly just templar armour. So then we had this idea…”

“What idea, to cleanse this place? But if you’re not even templars - ah, right. The vault. You’re just robbers, aren’t you?”

“It’s not right, what happened to the templars,” Jean said, suddenly solemn. “The mages are a threat to us all. They’re mixing with us and polluting our blood. There will be none of us normal people left if this is allowed to continue. They’ll rule over us, like in Tevinter. The templars knew that. They were protecting us.”

Hawke could rant on that topic for days. But in the end, here was the truth: there was now a whole generation that didn’t remember what things were like in the olden days, even for the ones who had no mages in their families. What Kirkwall was like for the last three years of Meredith’s rule. What happened when the templars broke the accords and set out to eliminate the mages and their sympathisers wherever they found them. What the templars were like when they ran out of lyrium.

Hawke had made his peace with the former templars a long time ago, even though that was a long and winding road that involved punching at least one Knight-Captain in the face and scarring the poor sod for life. A lot of them were victims too, orphanage brats forced into it, made addicts, brainwashed until they didn’t see “the robes” as people any more.

These young ones, though, they grew up during peacetime, in a kind of prosperity Ferelden and the Free Marches hadn’t known since before the Blight. They took for granted everything their parents’ generation had fought for. For reasons Hawke couldn’t begin to understand, these boys have built up new romantic ideas of what the templars had been like. The helmets weren’t just a convenient disguise for robbing the empty College, Hawke could see it now. These boys were proud to wear them. They thought themselves champions of the just.

He suddenly felt very tired, old and defeated, but this was not a time to feel sorry for himself.

“Why all the theatrics, why not just empty the vault in the middle of the night and run?” he asked.

“Because if we have the kids as hostages we can take everything,” Jean said. He seemed suddenly encouraged - probably, since Hawke hadn’t replied to his speech about the templars, he assumed he’d won the old man over. “Not just whatever we can stuff in our bags. The books upstairs are priceless. The city will give us those carts and horses, they’ll cave in, I know it. We can load up half the library in those. And nobody will chase us. We’ll ride away, and then we’ll disappear. Nobody would have seen our faces. Look, your husband locked himself in there with all the children, he wouldn’t open. We’re going to set fire to the doors and smoke them out. If he keeps on being stubborn, children might die. He might die. Now, if you convince him to let us in, nobody will get hurt. You’ll both come with us, to keep the children from freaking out. And when we’re clear, we’ll let you go and give you a share. With five of us dead, you can have half of what was to go to them.”

“Hang on,” Hawke said. “Wouldn’t it take a while to fence all this? The books and the trinkets from the vault are all highly specific, very traceable items. To get the right price you need the right buyer. How are you going to cut me my share before you even sell anything?”

“No, that’s the best part, we already have a buyer! For the artifacts, and the books, and the kids…”

“The kids?”

“Only the elf ones,” Jean said. “We were going to let the human ones go.”

Hawke sighed, grabbed him by the neck, hauled him toward the window and swung him out.

“Hawke!” yelled the Captain of the City guard at the sight of him. Now every guard from the barracks seemed to be here, including the off-duty shift, lined up and in a middle of some kind of tactical briefing. “That better not be a hostage!”

“Why would it be? This is the ringleader of the gang!” Hawke helpfully explained, dangling his wheezing captive over the courtyard stones. “He has information about slavers in the area! Get a blanket or something, my arm’s getting tired!”

“Hawke, we talked about this!” the Captain screamed mournfully. He pulled off his own cloak and instructed the guard to stretch it under the window.

Hawke let go and watched Jean plunge down with a howl. He bounced off the spread cloak and fell onto the stones, and screamed when the guards attempted to pull him up.

“Hopefully broke another bone,” Hawke muttered and gave the guards a thumbs-up. “The door's open, by the way! Come in!”

“Hawke, please stay put, just don’t do anything,” the Captain started, and Hawke shut the window and limped to the stairs. Anders and the children were still safe, if Jean was to be believed, but he couldn’t wait any longer.

He ran up the stairs to the library floor. Jean hadn’t lied: there really were just four fake tempars left there on the landing. Two were facing the stairs with their swords drawn, waiting for Jean to walk Hawke into the ambush, hopefully already with a knife in his back. Two others crouched by the massive oak doors that led to the library proper. The door was splattered with oil, and small blue flames already danced up those dark patches, not hot enough yet to eat into the old wood, but moments from it.

“I’ll give you one chance to surrender,” Hawke managed before they all rushed him.

He’d wanted to fight them. For all the fear and helplessness they’d made him feel, for all the memories they’d dredged up. For Anders, for the children. But even as he dodged the first attack he already knew that fighting four swordsmen alone was a stupid idea. It would have been even fifteen years ago, when he’d been young, fit and sharp from regular skirmishes, but it was spectacularly unwise now.

“Should have waited for the guard,” he sighed to himself as his arms screamed in pain from parrying the sword blows, as his knees loudly popped whenever he rolled under a sword swing. “Should have waited.”

In the end he only took a few glancing hits, shallow wounds Anders would fix in one breath, and only once slipped on the blood still gushing from his foot. Luckily, falling spared him from a stab he wouldn’t have been fast enough to side-step. After he felled the last robber Hawke smothered the fire with the stolen templar skirts and slumped by the singed door to catch his breath.

With his ear to the door he could just hear Anders’ voice, steady and clear. He was entertaining the kids, keeping them calm.

“And then they all attacked me and stabbed me right through the heart!” Anders said, eliciting a few gasps from his audience. “But Justice, my good spirit friend who lives inside me, always comes to my aid in times of trouble. He popped out, healed my wound, defeated all the templars and ate them.”

“Gross!” laughed a few children.

“Right? Spirits are not like us, you see, he didn’t see anything wrong with that. He knows better now. But he’ll still always protect me and all my friends and students. So don’t worry. You’re always safe with me.”

“Justice will save us from the bad men?” asked a child that sounded about as young as Bethany’s latest masterpiece, five-year-old Malcolm.

“Even better, this time my husband will save us! The bravest and most handsome man in all the Thedas! He’s so charming and gorgeous, and there’s no better fighter. These cowards are no match for him.”

Hawke smiled to himself and knocked on the door.

“Babe,” he called. “It’s me, it’s safe to open. Bit messy here, though.”

He heard Anders’ footsteps approach, the bolts inside slide free, and then the door opened and he saw his love again, smiling, safe and unharmed.

Hawke stepped through and shut the door, leaving the corpses behind.

“Let the guards clean up before the kids come out,” he said and drew Anders into his arms.

They kissed, and it felt just like that first time almost two decades ago: everything else fading away, Anders clinging to him with his whole body, making desperate noises against his mouth.

“You’re safe,” Hawke said afterwards, gasping a little for breath, and stroked Anders’ fair hair, traced the familiar silver streaks in it with his fingers. “I know you probably could have dealt with them by yourself--”

“Yes, but I was worried about the kids. You remember how Justice can be around the templars. I knew they’d be no trouble for you.”

“They weren’t even real templars. Just stupid brats playing at a heist.”

“Good,” Anders said and kissed him again, and Hawke melted into it, forgetting all about his injuries. “It did unsettle me a little, seeing them again. But I knew there had to be a simple explanation. It’s all over, it can’t happen again. It never will.”

“Never,” said Hawke, as if swearing a vow, and Anders led him inside the library, closer to the windows, where the children were waiting, quiet and worried.

“Who wants to see spirit healing of a real life wound?” Anders asked, and all the kids threw their hands up and clumped around them to watch as Anders healed Hawke’s foot, the cuts on his arms and ribs.

“Is he really the handsomest man?” Hawke noticed one teenage girl whisper to her friends sceptically, but he ignored it.

Afterwards Anders channelled Panacea to heal Hawke’s tired muscles and strained joints, cuddled Hawke to his side and told the kids about their wedding and their top three most romantic dates. The Guard Captain popped inside the library and gave Hawke a well-worn speech, chiding him for interference with the proper protocols. Hawke nodded along and, as usual, promised it wouldn’t happen again.

After the bodies were removed and the blood was mopped up they finally left the library. The kids instantly split up into little groups and dispersed through the building, desperate to run and play after hours of being cooped up and probably scared out of their minds despite their teacher’s best efforts.

“Can we go home?” Hawke begged. He couldn’t imagine leaving and letting Anders out of his sight again.

“You know I can’t leave the children. Especially now. They’ll need me.”

“They seem fine.”

“They’re relieved now. This will wear off by supper, and there will be tears. You can stay here, though.”

He gave Hawke his beautiful, warm smile, the same one that had dazzled Hawke all those years ago. The smiles revealed more lines at his eyes now, but that only made them more radiant.

“After we tuck the children in,” he said. “I’ll take you to my room and give you your Satinalia present. And your reward for rescuing me today.”

“Are they the same thing?” Hawke asked hopefully. “Twice?”

“It’s a surprise,” Anders smiled and gave Hawke’s butt a loving squeeze. “You’ll have to wait and see.”