#here it is!!!! it sounds like bad fanfic but it's been so surreal and this is really what it felt like for me don't judge me too harshly pls

[libbytwq]

hey can i be sappy for a moment, i feel like getting a thing off my chest (positive vent)

I love you all in the SMG4 Tumblr community so much. Y'all are absolutely epic and amazing and so creative and just. chill.

I've always been so nervous about joining set fandoms/fandom communities, cuz usually the community is huge and overwhelming, toxic, scary, crazy, and the idea of being in those communities and interacting with people in those communities and being in there not just to post a dingle fanart from it and dip, but to help be a big part of the community and whatnot sounded... overwhelming.

Then I slowly began getting super hyperfixated on SMG4, much more than I usually am, leading me to post more about it. Fanart, things I notice, goofy theories... more than just me saying a couple things i like about it, posting a fanart, then moving onto something else.

I started kinda just exploring the SMG4 tags and gradually, I began recognizing most of the people in this community more and more -- recognizing art styles, etc. I noticed how small a community it was.

And it was a mostly chill community. I wasn't really seeing much drama or questionable things, maybe some criticisms about the show or theories or whatever, but nobody was at each others throats. Plus, the fan OCs were super neat.

I had begun posting more and more SMG4 content, drawing fanart, their OCs, and the fact people were so just... chill and welcoming about it was so nice. It wasn't nearly as scary -- we are all just vibing here. Most of the artists you look up to will probably see your work, and give it attention too.

It feels super strange to be considered an SMG4 Tumblr artist, having people literally enjoying the things I make and making things for me when they make things for SMG4 fanartists... its honestly super surreal. But so so exciting and euphoric.

Cuz yall are so awesome!! Yall make my day so bright. Yall are the best.

I'll be honest, when I first was slowly being a part of the SMG4 community -- sometime right after summer vacation began -- I had been dealing with some petty but difficult irl person issues.

I don't want to get into it too much, but I had basically messed up in a pretty bad way (enough to make me feel bad the moment I did it, but not enough that we couldn't move on and mature from it), and the people involved were hurt worse than I thought they were, and instead of trying to talk it out they resorted lying about being my friends for months before school ended, and over summer break, tried to cancel one of my Scratch account and drag my followers there into drama that they had no business being in, for the simple reason being "you don't deserve all that fame".

Despite their attempt at trying to cancel me not really working out very well, it very much affected me negatively and made me very very scared about using Scratch again. I still post projects there sometimes, but i felt weird when i do it. I felt like those people were watching my every move, waiting to try and drag me down again. It felt so strange and scary to feel like the people I once cared so deeply about are breathing down my neck, waiting for me to make another wrong move and add it to their proof of why I'm an awful person.

It sucks ass.

The SMG4 community here on Tumblr, despite none of you knowing I was going through anything at all, you all helped a lot. Just existing.

Being a welcoming community that I feel safe to be silly and normal in.

I've never been the best at expressing appreciation, but let me just say:

I think of you all so highly and I never want you to change.

Keep making silly art. Or fanfics. Or AUs. Or OCs. Or whatever you like doing in this tiny close-knit fandom.

Keep doing everything you're doing to make this community mean so much to me.

❤️❤️❤️

...this sounds like im leaving the community,, IM NOT I just wanted to get it off my chest cuz ive been experiencing the emotions™ yknow, sorry that its not like my regular posts lol, im not gonna post like this much LMAOOO

TL;DR: yall are fuckin awesome please keep being awesome forever and ever ily bye

[crispydonuts]

Found a file in my gdocs of my unfinished (and now deleted) damianya fanfic where they’re adults in the regency era and are in a marriage of convenience hehehaha. This was supposed to be the final chapter and it is incomplete and kinda wanna share it here haha, happy reading!

———————————————————————

It was a fine morning when Anya started to complete some documents that were left by Damian when he went out to war. The tip of her quill hits the paper as she finishes signing some documents, which were needed to be finalized and approved by Demetrius in order to start working on the important deals from across the country.

Today marks two years since the war between Ostania and Westalis has ended. The peace treaty was signed by the kings, Donovan Desmond and his troops were sent to prison for stealing the lands of the west without the country’s knowledge, their unjust treatment towards the citizens, and causing conflict between the two countries.

Anya thought to herself. It has been two years since the countries signed the peace treaty and everything went back to normal…

Two years since she gave birth to Raphael and Roxana, the twins that were once inside her womb are now jolly four year olds that run around the manor’s gardens and bringing noise and laughter to hers and to the servants’ lives.

Two years since she started to take over the affairs of the Forger household and rebuilding the Desmond dukedom from its downfall, alongside being officially named as the grand duchess of the Desmond Dukedom by Demetrius himself.

Two years have passed and still no signs of her husband’s return from war, still waiting patiently for any sign that he’ll return, breathing in one whole piece.

If Anya will be honest, anxiety sometimes waves over her with thoughts that he might not return, or something bad has happened that nobody has the heart to tell her of.

A knock on the door abruptly paused Anya’s thoughts, returning her back to reality where the desk is occupied with paperwork and a quill with dried ink on her hand.

“Come in!” A maid holding a tray that held a familiar black brooch and a letter came in. The maid walked towards the Duchess, placing the tray on the table.

“A letter came in from the military, my lady.” The maid informed her. A letter from the military could only mean two things: the status of a man if he is alive and breathing, or the man is deceased and the body was found after weeks of searching.

“Thank you, you may now go.” Anya replied and the maid left soundlessly to the room. Reaching for the letter, she cradled the letter on her hands like a fragile trinket, feeling its rough texture and the smoothness of the wax stamp in blood red. She reached for the letter knife then sliced the folded paper open, only to present a paper that changed in color due to time. Nervously, she read the letter with care.

To my beloved, Anya,

I snuck into the night to write this letter as a reply to your message from three months ago. Forgive me, my love, that I took a long time to reply as I was still trying to convince myself that I am finally going to be a father of two children. Believe me when I tell you that I was so ecstatic when I read your letter that I have to contain my joyous cries at midnight.

It still feels surreal that in a few months, probably when I get home, I’ll see you holding our children onto your arms with a smile on your bright face… Getting to watch our family grow and watch our children get married…. Oh, just thinking of such things are filling my insides with joy!

The war is still a long way before it ends, most of our men have perished in both painful and painless ways. It was traumatizing to watch such a tragedy in front of everyone’s eyes. To tell the truth, I just want to return home. Although it may sound cowardly of me but this is the truth, all of us don’t want to experience more of this traumatic event where our skin and clothes are tainted with blood from people we were ordered to kill… Because these people have families, wives, children, and friends waiting for them back home, and this fact continues to eat my conscience alive.

I wish I could run away from this place and return home, where you are right now. Maybe if I have the choice to refuse the order to be in war, I would’ve helped you during your years of pregnancy and spend the rest of our lives in bliss and happiness-

[caffeinated-creepshow]

TRATM XIV: A Suggestion That Sounds Surreal

Chapter fourteen of The Raven and the Mockingbird, a T-rated Deadman Wonderland fanfic from 2013-17. Since this an archive, I am not editing the chapters as they are posted. Follows an OC named Tsumetai and her relationship with canon character, Toto Sakigami.

Word count: 1374 | Original Quotev post | Summary and masterlist

Full chapter below the cut

Finding someone as reclusive as Tsumetai is -- as it probably sounds -- is somewhat difficult. After all, she's had her entire life to learn how to hide properly. The only way to make it any easier is to be her best friend of all time, and thankfully for Sanae, that's what she is. So when she's not locked up in her room, not with Toto, and not in her other usual haunts, there's one place left to check. With the most defeated sigh, Sanae resigned to taking a look. This mystery place is an unused air vent in a random corner of the G Ward. If it weren't for all the things that can be heard in that air vent, it would be a fairly pleasant place to be...If cramped metal spaces are pleasant to you.

The most unpleasant part of the entire thing is getting to it. Some of the most reckless and heinous Deadmen have cells near the air shaft. Sneaking past them isn't necessarily difficult usually, but if you catch them on a bad day, they'll yell harassing comments and hurl insults your way until you're long gone. In resignation, Sanae made her way for the vent.

'Maybe my luck will be on my side and all of the Deadmen there will be asleep or something!' she hoped, trudging slowly towards her destination. When she began to hear their voices, she knew her luck had run dry. 'Figures. I can't ever catch a break when I need it most, can I?' Changing her steps to light, noiseless ones, Sanae crept up before stopping and stooping to the ground. Surveying them, she saw that they were currently preoccupied with something. 'What could possibly hold their interest that intensely?'

"After all this time, we finally managed to catch you!" the tallest of the bunch -- a woman with a shaved head -- sneered. "Do you know how long we've been waiting for this day?"

'Who?' Daring to get closer, Sanae craned her neck as far as she could, hoping to get a glimpse.

"You've made quite a name for yourself," added a fat man. "But that's to be expected from Mockingbird's play thing."

'Tsumetai?!' Without a single thought for her own safety, Sanae jumped to her feet and rushed over, pushing people out of the way. When she found herself at the front, she was faced with a sight that was...Sickening. Hunched over on the floor sat Tsumetai, hair ratty and lip bloody. Her jacket was torn in a few places, and the glove with the needle points had been taken. "What's going on here?!" Sanae demanded, turning to face the Deadmen.

"This little bird has been trespassing on our territory ever since she got here, and we've finally caught her so we could teach her a lesson!" the woman with the shaved head answered, a smirk growing on her face.

"So you take away her only means of self-defense?" For a moment, the tall woman looked confused, before realization dawned on her.

"Mockingbird has taking such a liking to the little Raven, she should be able to defend herself without it," the fat man remarked. Casting the man a sidelong glare, Sanae reeled back and punched him directly in his jaw. A grotesque crunch resounded from the hit as he fell, immediately reaching for his face and clutching his now broken jaw.

"Unless you all want broken bones, or broken bodies for some of you, I suggest you allow me to take her away from here without resistance," Sanae snarled. Nightingale is a terrifying one, but just then, she was at her most ferocious. "Are there any objections?"

"Of course," the tall woman began. Before another word could come out, Sanae had grabbed her shoulders, bent her forward, and kneed her in the ribs.

"Any more objections?" The rest of the Deadmen were silent. For as reckless as they all were, none would dare test someone as powerful as Sanae. "That's what I thought." Facing her best friend once more, Sanae knelt down and gently helped her up. Putting one arm over her shoulders, she supported nearly all of Tsumetai's weight as she headed back into the thick of G Ward.

Once in the safety of Sanae's room, she laid Tsumetai down on her bed. During the walk, the girl had come to, only to be met with a throbbing lip and growing migraine.

"I'll try and find some pain killers. Take it easy until I come back," Sanae commanded softly. With a weak nod, Tsumetai slowly raised a hand to her lip. The blood had stopped, but the swelling had already begun. With a groan, she felt around the blanket surrounding her. Surely her glove would be there. When her fingertips met nothing new, she began to panic.

"I can't do anything without that glove..." she whispered. "Sanae must have got it back..." Closing her eyes once more, Tsumetai tried to relax. Just as the tension in her had left, the door slammed open and in stomped Toto.

"I can't believe they would try that!" he yelled, unaware of Tsumetai's splitting headache. "None of them were even close to a challenge! They must have gotten you by surprise." Plopping down next to Tsumetai, an incensed Toto set the glove on her stomach. "I at least got you're glove back, though." Attempting to smile through his anger, Toto looked down at her with sad eyes. "I don't understand how they got to you, though. Did they ambush you? Overtake you? What was it?" His voice was a mere whisper as he lied down next to her. "Please just tell me."

"There were too many all at once to fight off. At the start, I held them off well enough, but then they came from behind and...I lost, I guess. They knocked me out, so I have no clue what happened afterwards."

"They couldn't have..." He trailed off, unable to get the word out.

"No. They couldn't have raped me, or done anything of the sort. If they had, my clothes would be have been askew, and more torn than they are now."

With a sigh of relief, he quietly breathed, "Thank god." Gently, he wrapped an arm around her and buried his face in her shoulder. "You wouldn't want to know what I'd do to them if they had."

"I'm sure you're right..." They lied there for a while, until Sanae returned with what were indeed pain killers.

"Alright Toto, you should probably go. She's going to need a lot of rest," she said as she sat on her nightstand. With a crushed sigh, Toto kissed Tsumetai's forehead before getting up.

"Treat her well," he said quietly as he left. With a raised eyebrow, Sanae followed his exit with her eyes, before getting up herself to close the door.

"Okay. First off, getting you those pain killers." Helping Tsumetai sit up, she handed her the small pills and a bottle of water. Once they were gone, Sanae gave her a few moments to gather herself before speaking. "I know who we need to talk to to figure out what's going on with Toto."

"Oh really. Do tell."

"Somewhere in the staff of Deadman Wonderland are two twins named Chan and En. From what I could scrounge up from old records, they worked for the old director of the prison. They're still employed here though, most likely as guards. If we can find them somehow, and get them to talk, we may find what you're looking for."

"But how do you plan to get them to just tell us?"

"We tell them almost all of what we know...We tell them about the escape plans that've been cooked up, but not the one that will be put in action."

"You would risk that?!" Despite the soreness in her muscles, Tsumetai jolted forward to face Sanae directly. "Those plans are close enough to ours that they could easily take the strategy used against them to defeat us."

"If we figure out what makes Toto tick, that might not be the case."

"What are you suggesting, Nightingale?"

"I'm suggesting that you two -- the Raven and the Mockingbird -- are the key to our escape."

[chrsitophwaltz]

MICKEY MEETS FC BAYERN (PART 4/4)

for the entire houston clownery experience click here

psa: if you’ve read the last 3 parts, then you know the drill. i just wanna add that i don’t know how coherent this is bc writing it drained me already. i typed it straight from my garbage brain so this is obviously NOT SAFE FOR WORK. if you’re brave or thirsty enough, or have holy water at the ready, then by all means please proceed.

*matthew mcconaughey voice* alright alright alright

we’ve reached the end, folks! it’s taken me longer than i thought to put this part out. mainly because my brain still can’t comprehend that this actually happened. y’all know that feeling where something happened and you just floated right through it then a few hours later when you’re all alone it hits and destroys you like a fucking trainwreck?

yeah, that’s what it’s been like.

so to recap:

friday: the team arrived. i was positioned nicely near the bus exit and my mind, body, and soul had been buzzing and ready for that moment. i had it all well-rehearsed too: niko steps out, i scream like a banshee for his name, he comes over-- with soft hair and glorious stubble and all-- to sign my shirt and take a gazillion pics. oh, and of course i try not to faint or drool all over him. it was almost fullproof. the problem? he never stepped out. he and thiago went straight to the airport for a press conference and were never in the team bus. i was ready to unleash death right then and there.

but oh well. all hope isn’t lost. i’m gonna be five rows behind the bayern bench the next day during the game anyway. got the tickets within an hour or so after sales opened. i can thirst to my heart’s content over him and his beautiful backside for two hours. and i had this huge ass sign ready, asking for his bottle. it’s bigger and brighter than my life. he CANNOT possibly miss that, right?

saturday: game day! i’ve been buzzing the entire morning and early afternoon. today’s the day! my first time inside a football (american) stadium too. and i was kinda nervous about my sign’s debut too. what if he does see it and give me his bottle? what would i do? do i manage to keep cool or do i smash it right into my eye socket in front of him? until now i still don’t know

so we go down to the stadium. my sign was getting some attention too. people, bayern fans and madridies alike, stopped me and asked what it meant (i had to sheepishly explain to random people that yes, i am indeed asking for his bottle, and no, y’all don’t wanna know why). some guy even got it on his video camera but idk what he did with it sjdfdjkfdjkfsfs

i got settled into my seat and h o l y s h i t i was so close to the pitch and the bench! all the drama? i got it! all the shirt-changing action? i got em too! and all the angry niko antics??? best believe they’re seared into my mind forever and ever!!!!

(dare i say, with full risk of sounding like a downright whore, the man’s got real juicy buns in the back oven. like, fuck me!!!! he’s fit as fucking fuck!!!!!!!! he also loves to whistle and scream instructions and mouth off to hansi on the bench. oh, and to randomly thrust his hips like nobody’s fuckin business!!!!!!!!)

(srsly niko, why do that???? GET OFF MY DAMN NECK!!!!!! PLEASE!!!!!!! my 17-year old sister was beside me and i had to be 110% a responsible, sane adult!!!!!!! even the guy sitting behind us eventually caught on to my thirst since he saw me filming niko the whole duration of the game sddbsjfdjfnsm)

anyway, niko LOVES to hydrate and he probably finished around 4-5 bottles of water. at one point he looked over at where i was and i’m sure as h e l l he saw my sign (it was a huge ass board). but guess what? it’s like he knew just how desperate i was and kept on sexily chugging. god fucking dammit, niko!!!!

y’all know what happened to all those bottles? NOTHING! they’re just piled up on the bench never to be used again. i was right there, niko! A CRUMB! just one fuckin crumb was all i asked for!!!!!!!!!!!! he could’ve thrown that bottle straight at my fuckin face and i would’ve THANKED him

the game ended, we won, and NO BOTTLE. a bitch was sad!!! a bitch was going STIR CRAZY!!!!! the team only had one day left before they left for kansas city. i’ve been trying to get info on how to get into the practice session so i can see him and all the boys. but of course! the training session might as well be in secret because it’s invite-only!!! even the paulaner bbq event was closed. the only events that were open were the mall meet-and-greets. but those wouldn’t have niko or the rest of the boys in them.

please bear in mind again that i decided to shell out extra just to make that one day extension happen. 

i had to see the entire team. i needed to experience niko up close. if i don’t get to do this now, then god knows when i’ll get the chance to do so again.

so, driven by desperation, i made a totally uninformed decision to go to the hotel at some random time the next day. ultimately, it was either the hotel or the carl lewis track. i figured the hotel would be a safer bet since i’d been there before and it was closer to the mall where the meet-and-greets would be (just in case the worst happened and i failed to catch them before they left for practice or wherever).

hotel or track? hotel.

what time? probably 8:30.

did i know what i was doing? absolutely fucking not.

but hey, couldn’t hurt, right? it was bonkers. truly bananas. but what choice did i have? in the end, i just wanted to be able to tell myself that i tried.

sunday:

i’ve been thinking about what to call this part. here’s some of what comes to mind:

1. crazy binch follows crazy idea and it works? it’s more likely than you think!

2. if you like it (i LOVED it) then you should’ve put a ring on it (I MCFUCKIN DID!!!!! in my head at least sksdjfksdfsdfh)

3. the day kathleen krüger probably wanted my head on a spike (and i don’t blame her)!

so the events from parts 1 and 2 happened. saw and greeted kathleen krüger in decent german. it was going pretty well. somewhere in there, during the sven/leon mishap, it finally happened. the moment that i’ve been waiting for. perfection!

*record scratch* eh, not really.

look, i’m 5′3 (and 1/2, i’m gonna insist on that). leon is 6′2. sven is about 6′3 or 6′4? anyway, y’all get it. they’re tall af.

and niko? a very sexy 5′9.

so in the haze of mortification and embarrassment brought about by the sven/leon mishap, i completely missed niko going out of the hotel. the binch literally had to be positioned in between sven and leon and all the other tall german people milling around the hotel. my ass had been on alert for him nearly the entire week (and let’s be real, for months) and when the moment finally presented itself, it completely flew over my head. i nearly ruined my own damn plan.

thankfully though, i’d been chatting with the bayern staff earlier and they knew that i’d been waiting this whole time to meet niko. i wondered out loud, “ugh, when is niko gonna show up he’s usually one of the earlier ones” and the guy in the red audi fcb tour polo shirt frowned and said “what? he literally just went out. didn’t you see him?”

my world literally stopped. i wanted to slap myself. my ears were ringing.

niko, already out? how could i have missed him? had he already gone up the bus???

i literally did a 360 so fast i gave myself whiplash and saw through the glass doors the man i’d been waiting forever for. he was clad in his blue coach kit of shirt and shorts. i could also swear he was glowing like an angel (probably bc of the bright sun or the product of my thirst-addled brain, idk).

there was another problem, though: he wasn’t stopping. he was going straight for the bus. and his leggies were f a s t.

and where was i? still frozen in shock inside the freaking hotel!!!!

i’m not the fastest person in the world but man, adrenaline really does work wonders! thank goodness my brain chose that moment to regain its function and spurred my body into motion. with no fucks left to give, i ran full tilt through the throng of people leisurely heading out, past the security guards who looked at me like i was insane (i was), out of the hotel and into the courtyard where there were about 50 or so fans behind the barriers who had gathered to catch a glimpse of the team.

it was like everything was in slow-mo. there was kathleen, patiently standing near the bus door and taking inventory of the players and staff before they leave. and there was niko, with literally one foot lifted to go up the first step into the bus.

my brain did a quick calculation. even with adrenaline, he’d already be up and inside the bus by the time i get to where he was. they may have let me inside the hotel, but i knew the bus was off limits. i had to stop him before he’s out of reach. and i knew that if i missed him, then that would be the absolute last time i’d see him in houston. that was my last chance.

i already had one foot dipped into the proverbial pool of shame. i was vaguely aware that i had the hotel staff stationed near the door and some fans looking at me bc of my marathon sprint antic. why not just take the full plunge, right?

so i did the only thing i could do to stop him: i screamed for him. throat open, full diaphragm, lungs out screamed: “NIKO! NIKO PLEASE!” my voice and the desperation that it was absolutely dripping with echoed within the walls of the hotel entrance.

i don’t even know the others’ reaction to that anymore, and i don’t really wanna know. all i know was that it worked! he stopped and turned around to look. and god was he. so. beautiful!!!

overjoyed that he paused, i ran straight towards him. there was a body in front of me that i barely dodged in my haste and i belatedly realized it was the team photographer taking shots of the departure. i nearly bowled him over and destroyed his expensive camera but thankfully i somehow managed to do a the matrix-esque maneuver and ducked under his arms and up again straight back to niko. the look on my face must’ve been shocking and horrific (i bet) because as i zoomed in on niko, i saw poor kathleen just behind him, still near the bus door, go tense with her eyes as big as saucers.

look, i understand. if i were the team manager of a popular football team, and some woman was running straight for one of my charges, with A Certain Look on her face, and with the bus door wide open, i’d be worried af. she probably thought i was gonna attack niko (somewhat true, but not in the way she thought...or was it?) and/or infiltrate the team bus. my intentions were pure (ish), of course, but my face didn’t reflect that.

the Queen knew martial arts and could’ve karate-kicked me off the face of the earth and away from niko, but she didn’t. so thank you, kathleen. and i apologize.

safe from kathleen’s wrath (for now), i turned my full attention to niko. i was finally in front of him!!!!! my dream had finally come true!!!!!!!!!!!

my brain and my soul were trying to leave my body and i wasn’t really 100% percent in the moment, but even with the little presence of mind i had left it was too much to bear. niko looked a bit perplexed, like i might attack him or something (with the way i looked, ran, and shouted like an animal i totally get it), but still managed to look relaxed, open, and friendly. he looked at me expectantly and i felt my mouth move to ask for an autograph and my hands give him my cardboarded jersey and sharpie. i wasn’t in control of my body anymore but thank god it knew exactly what i wanted.

niko, a true angel sent down from the heavens above, gracefully took my shirt and sharpie. i’m pretty sure my mouth was wide open and probably had some drool hanging off, and i could feel kathleen’s stare boring holes into the side of my head. as he was signing it, my last few brain cells were roasting.

his hair was soft and ungelled, and was damp (he looked like he recently just came out of the shower) and as his head was bent down, That Stray Lock of Hair flopped into his forehead. it nearly made me pass tf out!!! the sun was also shining brightly and his stubble was already silvery (thanks to bayern’s season of clownery!) so when the light caught it, it literally shone. each strand was literally p e r f e c t i o n. perfect length, perfect texture (from the looks of it; i didn’t dare touch no matter how much i wanted to bc thankfully i still had one fragile shred of dignity left, and i’m sure kathleen would’ve brought out the shotgun), perfect everything. i was about to have a coronary right then and there.

i’ve thought a lot about what i wanted to say to him if i did get the chance to meet him and talk to him. i remembered all the highs and lows of last season and as he finished signing my shirt, i thanked him and said “good luck, niko. and don’t listen to everything they say; you’ll always have people to stand behind you and the team no matter what.” at least that’s what i thought i said. i don’t really remember bc i was half spaced out. but i must’ve said something to that effect bc he looked up from what he was doing and gave me a big, and dare i say, relieved (?), smile. god, his eyes. they were so green. and soft. and really, really kind.

he was probably surprised that i said that to him, what with my earlier crazed stunt. but of course, ever the gentleman, he said “thank you so much” G O D!!!! HIS ACCENT!!!!! if you haven’t heard him speak in english yet, or just speak at all, now’s the time to google that shit. it’s deadly af on video, but goddamn, like everything else about him in person, it’s truly something else live.

mercifully, when he gave me back my shirt and pen, i still had enough life left in me to ask for a picture before i finally passed out. i never would’ve forgiven myself if i forgot!!!

me: thanks again, niko. is it alright if we take a picture?

niko: sure, of course! (god i love him; also, he loves to say “of course” for some reason sjkdhfdfjsdkfh)

so i had my shirt and sharpie in my left hand, and was trying to work my phone with my right hand. niko sidled up real close to my left side and HOLY FUCKING SHIT. he was so warm. and his arm was f i r m. he was leaning really close and my brain was short-circuiting from trying to memorize every single detail and trying to work my phone camera.

(note: my lock screen is niko drenched in beer after they won the bundesliga. thankfully, i turned off my phone’s auto lock just the night before. imagine if he saw me trying to unlock my phone with his wet self plastered on my screen. i never would’ve survived the shame.)

as i was skin on skin with niko, my organs were literally failing. my hands were shaking and sweating, and my camera just. wouldn’t. set. on. photo. it went to video, to slow mo, to god knows what else. it was already getting embarrassing and i was mumbling apologies to niko bc i was sure i’d already taken more than enough of his time. and i haven’t forgotten that kathleen was still there! still staring at us, at me, and witnessing every single mortifying thing!!!!

niko, literally heaven itself incarnate, was so patient though and just chuckled. oh. fuck. me. his chuckle. y’all know his voice is deep af, right? and you know that certain r a s p that comes with it. well, fuck. he did this deep ass raspy chuckle that went straight down to my loins!!!!! christ on a bike!!!! my inner whore was literally about to jump out!!!!! i’ve fantasized about hearing it in person for so long but jesus fucking christ I WASN’T READY. ALL THIS TIME AND MY BODY STILL WASN’T READY!!!! AND I’M DAMN SURE IT WILL NEVER BE READY!!!!!!!!! NO ONE IS READY FOR THIS ATTACK!!!!!!!!

g o d. anyway, he finally took pity on me. he chuckled (i’m on the brink of death here!!!) and reached for my phone to help me take the goddamn photo. he set it on photo (freaking finally, thanks niko) and we posed for the photo. hell, he was so close again. while i tried to smile and look somehow decent, i just had to take away as much detail as i could before we parted.

1. i already said this, but his h a i r. so soft. and houston was freaking humid. while mine was literally about to turn into a bird’s nest from the humidity, the man just couldn’t look fugly if he tried!!! he literally had NO FRIZZ. damn niko, tell me your secret!

2. his stubble was SO CLOSE. every strand? PERFECTION. no words could adequately describe it. and holy shit, his jawline and cheekbones. if i touched it i could literally lacerate my goddamn hand. and he had no pores??? fucking sexy cryptid

3. his c h u c k l e (he wasn’t chuckling anymore, but that shit stays with you till the end of time)

4. HIS S C E N T.

okay. i have a scent kink. i know. TMI. like this whole write up is one big banner for too much fuckin information. but holy shit. HOLY S H I T. until now i still don’t know how to fully describe, and i probably never will succeed in fully conveying what it was truly like (and if my brain embellished some of it; i was really too far gone to know anything anymore), but fuck. f u c k. he wasn’t wearing perfume or cologne, i’m sure of that. nothing too artificial that stood out to my nostrils. probably bc they were going to train under the houston sun and spritzing was wasted and unnecessary. but remember that he was fresh from the shower, so that was basically his main scent. it was very nice, very crisp, very clean. basically, sexy as hell. classy. panty-melting!!!! hell, i don’t know!!!! you know what i mean!!! idk if it’s from the hotel toiletries (if it was, good job post oak hotel!) or if it’s his own (then i need to know niko! what products do you use???). but yeah. clean and crisp. d***y supreme.

and there was also something else. it must’ve been his natural scent. and god. GOD!!!! a bit woodsy (?) and quite sweet. i’ll stop there before i say something that REALLY crosses the line.

so my thumb moves, and we take the photo. ONE FREAKING PHOTO. that’s all i managed. i wasn’t able to look at it until my uber ride to the mall later on, and i really would’ve liked more to take with me and stare at when i’m....lonely. but it was magically HDR, and i looked passable. and niko. again: perfection!!!! now that i know what he’s like in the flesh, nothing else will ever come close. but this does come quite close.

after the photo was taken, i manage to squeak out another “thanks.” niko smiled again (kill me one last time, why don’t you) and squeezed my arm lightly before saying goodbye and finally going up the bus. kathleen could breathe a sigh of relief now.

i don’t know how long i stood there. surely not that long since i still got to take pics with serge, manu, and lewy. but it did feel like forever and i haven’t shaken myself out of it. as i’m writing this, exactly one week later after it happened, i still haven’t shaken myself out of it. i don’t think i ever could.

i’m just thankful to whichever deity made this happen. my houston trip was finally complete (i haven’t met everyone yet at that point, but i just somehow knew deep inside that it would all work out). i got what i came for and more. my extension was not only worth it, but completely priceless. i’ll treasure this whole day and that little moment i got with niko for the rest of my life. that’s for sure.

just to end this, i just wanna say something. i know this was one whole crazy and thirsty post, but seriously. he’s a really nice man. a good man. it wasn’t for more than a few minutes at most, but it felt like forever in my mind. and in that short moment, i just knew he tries his best. i’m a true blue niko stan but even i know he made mistakes. i’m clearheaded enough to acknowledge that. but he tries, and he succeeded. and no matter how calm and cool and collected he always appears to be, you can still see how much it all affects him. hell, he literally grayed in front of our eyes in less than a year. his eyes were a little less bright at the end of the season as compared to his presentation last july. when i gave him that little message of support, i literally saw the relief in his eyes and how much he appreciated it. he and the team have been through quite the ordeal last season, and there are no guarantees it will be easier this time around.

you don’t have to like him, you know. but please. a little basic human respect still goes a long way.

there, i said my piece. and it’s done! thank you, fc bayern, for being so nice and game and all-around wonderful. thank you, kathleen krüger, for staying calm long enough to let me have my moment with niko. and thank you, niko, just for being... you. now here’s the ONE picture i’ll treasure for the rest of my life:

[lin-nin]

Tribulation & Tenderness - Chapter 10

Ship: Main Technoblade x Reader, some Dream x Reader

Plot:   You're a princess in a Kingdom suffering a years long famine. In a   desperate attempt to help your people, you accept one simple offer:   Marriage to the crown prince of a neighboring kingdom. Anything to help  your people survive. Surely it can't be too bad, can it?

Chapter List: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 Disclaimer:   Cross-posted on Wattpad (discontinued) and Ao3. This is based off of everyone's CHARACTERS. I do not write fanfic based off the actual people.

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Chapter 10: Wedding Plans

< | Previous Chapter

Your first night at the new kingdom was rough. You laid in your bed for hours, your blanket pulled to your chin. You wanted nothing more to sleep- it sounded like a blessing at the moment. It didn’t come easy, and you eventually moved to look out the window instead. The blanket hung around your shoulders as you did, a quiet sigh spilling from your lips. The view outside felt completely different at night, the soft glow of the moon spilling over the land. In the surrounding city you could make out the warm glow from the lamps. It was surreal, feeling so much more different than your home.

You pondered about what your life here would entail. Techno hadn’t really said too much. You figured you would be told as the days went on what to expect. You figured most of your time as of current would be dedicated to preparation for the wedding. Maybe even some training, if Techno found time to do so. You didn’t know what his duties would entail, and how similar they would be to George’s. You’d adjust inevitably. Exhaustion was weighing heavy on you, your gaze once more shifting to the bed longingly. You weren’t entirely sure if you would be able to fall asleep just yet. You pondered going to the library, but decided against it. That was on the other side of the castle. You didn’t have the confidence to go alone at night, either. Beyond Techno and his brothers, you didn’t know who to trust.

So, with a defeated sigh, you trudged back to the bed and wrapped the blanket tight around you. Might as well try to sleep. Absorbing yourself into your thoughts would only lead to exhaustion tomorrow. Which wasn’t what you really wanted. You knew tomorrow would inevitably be busy. The wedding had been mentioned multiple times, you knew there needed to be planning for that.

It felt like you had only blinked, head full of thoughts of the wedding, when you were cracking your eyes open. Light spilled into the room through the window you had gazed out of earlier, making you sigh. Breakfast. The thought made your stomach turn a little. This would be your first proper introduction to the court. Sure you knew plenty of people, but you had managed to evade dinner last night due to the tour. You couldn’t as easily escape the obligation of breakfast. If you did, your body would make you pay dearly later. Besides, you couldn’t avoid it forever.

You peeled yourself out of bed, wandering towards the closet. You wanted to make a good impression on everyone, without being so horribly overstated. You freted, before settling on one of your simpler dresses. You set it aside, thumbing through your jewelry for something to wear. You briefly ran your thumb over the necklace Dream had given you, marveling it. It was almost tempting to wear it, to have that comfort and security you had always felt with the blonde. Yet you decided against it, choosing something less understated that your mother had given you on one of your birthdays.

Once satisfied with the choice in clothes, you stole away to the bathroom. It had been a couple of days since you last bathed, and you figured it wouldn’t hurt. You did skeptically eye the full bath, trying to guess when servants had slipped into your room to fill it. No matter. Steam rolled along the surface of it, and you couldn’t help but sigh as you slid into it. It worked rather quickly to relax your muscles and nerves. You definitely needed that. You eyed the small shelf by the tub, picking up a few of the bottles to smell them.

One smelled of vanilla, which you deeply considered. The other you smelled carried the scent of rose and lemon, a scent you easily recognized. It was hardly different from the one you used at home, which you had forgotten to bring. The only thing that seemed to be missing was the base note of patchouli, and you did miss the earthiness just a touch. All the same, you were content that this was here, wherever it came from. You quickly used the bottle to help freshen yourself up. A quick run over with a damp cloth ensured you were rid of any dirt. As the water began to cool, you finally pulled yourself up and out of the tub to dress.

You lingered in the room, fingers running over your dress a few times. Nervously. You really didn’t want to walk into the dining hall alone. As if to answer your silent pleas, there was a knock on your door that you quickly answered. Techno stood on the other end, peering down at you through his glasses. You offered a soft smile, trying to hide your nerves.

“I figured I should walk with you to breakfast. Since we missed dinner and all,” He explained, but you only nodded. You stepped out of the room, shutting the door behind you as you did so.

“Right, sorry about that, still. I appreciate you walking with me.” Your hands once more smoothed down over your dress, almost fussing on if your appearance was perfect. Who all would be there? Perhaps just a few other nobles, maybe the King’s advisors. It shouldn’t be too big, should it?

“Making things seem distant between us would only give people reason to dislike you.” The words only served to make you shudder, a frown on your face. You easily recalled Philza’s words of the advisor, the thought causing your stomach to turn. This was going to be a rough breakfast, you already knew.

“Right. Some people aren’t exactly excited about this. That’s fine. I’m prepared for that,” You muttered in an attempt to reassure yourself. Techno reached up, giving a reassuring pat against your back.

“They’re harmless. It doesn’t matter what they think,” Techno muttered as the pair of you descended the stairs. You sighed but nodded. He was right, honestly. It wasn’t like the king hated you, and the rest of the royal family seemed to at least not hate you. So long as they didn’t hate you, you hoped you could stomach the rest. From down the hall you could already hear Tommy making a fuss, causing you to smile. That helped ease your nerves. It was a different environment than you were used to.

You glanced at the table as you walked in, relieved by the familiar faces around the table. Techno moved towards his father, pausing to pull out one of the empty chairs and motioning you into it. Your eyes scanned the few unfamiliar faces as you sat down, trying to ease your anxiety.

“Mornin’ Techno! Mornin’ Techno’s wife!” Tommy called as Techno sat between you and his father, causing the pink-headed prince to glance at his brother.

“She’s not my wife yet, Tommy,” he simply clarified, sounding far from amused.

“How’d you sleep, kiddo?” Philza detracted the attention from his rambunctious nephew, offering you a smile. You relaxed a little, appreciating the older man’s words.

“I slept alright,” You murmured, offering a feeble smile. You hadn’t slept great, or all that much, and you had a feeling it showed on your face.

“It’s a new place, that’s always rough. I’m sure it’ll get better soon.” You could only nod at his words, thankful for the reassurance. He was nice, and truthfully you enjoyed that about him. He felt very much fatherly. Techno slid a cup in front of you, steam billowing from it. You smiled thankfully, offering a quiet thank you as you picked it up. Tea was definitely acceptable this early in the morning, especially as a slight chill clung to the castle.

The man sat beside Philza cleared his throat, offering a gentle smile. Your attention quickly turned to him, brow furrowing a little. He wasn’t someone you recognized- definitely didn’t meet him yesterday. “A pleasure to finally meet you. I’m Eret- cousin to those three.” He motioned to the prince’s as he talked, and you nodded slightly.

“Nice to meet you. Techno never mentioned having a cousin.” You set down the cup in your hands, glancing at Techno briefly. He furrowed his brow, a soft ‘heh?’ leaving him.

“He likes to forget about him.” Wilbur spoke up, causing Tommy to laugh. You sighed, shaking your head with a small laugh.

“I don’t know how! Eret’s been here since he was little,” Tommy spoke between laughter, making your gaze turn back to the brunette across from you. He seemed almost embarrassed, shrugging.

“I’m sure Techno had a lot on his mind whenever he spoke of the kingdom, there’s a lot of people to remember here.” Eret didn’t seem too bothered by the lapse of information, and you shrugged.

“He mentioned Tubbo, though. Is he forgetful enough to mention a family friend as opposed to his actual family?” You teased, throwing a sly grin at Techno. It was easy to slip into this with the egging on of his brothers.

“Oh- Did he really? I mean, I practically did grow up with Tommy,” Tubbo asked, head popping up.

“You’re like a little brother to us, Tubbo. You were always there, Eret didn’t come to the kingdom until Techno was almost seven, remember?” Wilbur pushed, and the brunette seemed to purse his lips in thought.

“Not well, no. We love Eret anyways!” The man between Eret and Tubbo scoffed, a hand holding his head. Tired brown eyes stared at his plate, a glass bottle in hand. He looked rough, stubble lining his jaw and brown locks falling into his eyes. You eyed the brown liquid within the bottle as silence fell over the table.

“That’s Schlatt, the advisor Philza spoke of yesterday,” Techno’s voice came quietly against your ear, making you jump in surprise. When the hell had he gotten there? Your attention quickly turned back to the man as he took a drink from the bottle. Was that alcohol?

Physically, you could see the similarities between him and Tubbo, but that was about it. Even now, the younger brunette seemed largely uncomfortable next to him. It made your chest pang, wondering what all had happened to cause the rift in their relationship.

Schlatt stood up with a grunt, sloppily pushing in his chair. “Come on, Tubbo. We’ve got work to do,” Schlatt called. There was a drawl in his voice that made you rather uncomfortable. You didn’t like him, and you had a feeling it was similar to the way the princes felt towards him.

Tubbo looked down to his plate, seemingly steeling himself. “Yes, Schlatt,” he muttered softly. What had Schlatt done that had made the brunette become so quiet? You didn’t like it one bit. Before Tubbo could even move to follow his father, you spoke out.

“Actually, I was hoping I could borrow Tubbo for today!” Tubbo’s head snapped up at that, eyes wide. You blinked, not even sure what you were saying. Schlatt stopped his walk, bottle hanging from his hand as he turned to look at you. Perhaps glare was a better word? You swallowed, steeling yourself as you continued, “I’d really appreciate his input on the wedding plans.”

“The wedding,” Schlatt sneered, eyes narrowed. His gaze moved from you, to Techno, then to his son. “Whatever, take the bastard for the ridiculous wedding. Like I give a damn.” With his words, he took a swig from the bottle before sauntering out of the dining hall. With his leave, the tension in the room seemed to dissipate.

A relieved sigh escaped Tubbo’s lips as he slumped in his seat, closing his eyes. “Thank you so much,” He mumbled into his hands. You sighed, shaking your head a little. Not exactly what you had expected, but you’d take it. 

“I hate that he keeps calling you that,” Tommy grumbled, while Wilbur just patted his shoulder.

“It gets him away from Schlatt for today, so what’s it matter?” Wilbur offered with a shrug. Tommy just continued to grumble under his breath while Tubbo offered a weak smile.

“You don’t actually have to help with the wedding. I just didn’t feel right leaving you to go with him.” You brushed it off with a smile. It was true, though. You truly didn’t want to send Tubbo off with Schlatt. The man gave off a bad vibe you didn’t like in the slightest. So, coming up with an excuse seemed the most feasible. The king sighed and shook his head, otherwise staying quiet. You had a feeling this wasn’t too different from a normal morning.

“Actually, I wouldn’t mind helping! If everyone doesn’t mind,” Tubbo sheepishly chimed, moving to rub the nape of his neck. Tommy groaned dramatically, slouching in his chair.

“Tubbo, come on. You’re gonna make us do stupid wedding planning all day? With Eret and Wilbur and Techno? At one time?” You snickered a little as he complained, head shaking. Wilbur smacked him in the back of his head in response to his dramatics.

“Your opinion doesn’t count, Tommy.” His voice was so plain, even as the young blonde whined and rubbed the back of his head.

“I’ll show you what does count! I swear, I’ll beat you so hard you won’t be able to remember your own name!” He shoved at his brother, and you shook your head.

“I don’t mind if you tag along, Tubbo. I’m sure the input will be appreciated,” You spoke over the ruckus of Wilbur and Tommy as the two pushed at each other. The words seemed to make Tubbo glow with excitement, almost as if the whole thing with Schlatt hadn’t ever happened.

“Alright, boys, go outside before you break a plate or the table. Go on, do your fighting there.” Philza spoke from behind them, and your head popped up. He must have moved while you were focused on Tubbo. Tommy was stuck beneath Wilbur’s arm, the older yanking him around. Philza unceremoniously pulled out the chairs they sat on, forcing them apart as he shooed them away. He looked exasperated, but fond of their antics all the same.

“I’ll judge!” Tubbo called, standing up hurriedly. He gave a brief, sloppy bow towards the king before running after the two princes.

“Is it like this every morning?” You sat down your utensils, reclining in your seat.

“Not every morning, but a lot of them. It wasn’t always this way,” Eret shook his head but smiled. You turned to Techno, where he stared towards the door with an affectionate look in his eyes. It was almost sweet, seeing the way he gazed after the rambunctious trio.

“It only started to get like that a few years ago. Not quite becoming of princes, but they don’t seem in a rush to behave like royalty.” Techno’s voice had the same fondness his gaze did, and you hummed in acknowledgement as you sipped the last of your tea, cradling the cup close.

“Not anymore, at least. We should go and start doing some planning ourselves,” Philza muttered, turning towards the king. The man nodded, slowly rising from his seat.

“Please see to it your brothers don’t destroy anything this time, Technoblade.” He gave him a pointed look, making him sigh and nod. The king walked away, Philza tailing behind him. Leaving you, Techno, and Eret sitting.

“Well, let’s get started? There’s no telling how long it’ll take. Especially since Wilbur is currently in the process of fighting Tommy.” Eret shook his head as he spoke. You nodded, moving to stand. A hand entered your vision before you could even get to your feet. You shook your head, unable to help a laugh.

“Should I get used to you not letting me get out of my seat on my own?” You managed a lighthearted jab at him as you took his hand, allowing him to gently pull you up.

“Yes.” The way he said it was so flat and monotone, you couldn’t stop the laugh bursting from your lips. You just shook your head, giving a lopsided grin.

“Thank you, Techno. Wanting to teach me to fight but not letting me get out of a chair without hovering.” His lips pursed at that, eyebrows furrowing. Like he saw nothing wrong with it. Not that there truly was, it just seemed almost contradictory. Eret even seemed equally amused, though he didn’t poke at his cousin the way you did.

“I’ll go ahead and get the boys before they destroy each other. I’ll meet you in the ballroom with them.” Techno gently pushed you towards his cousin, before striding off in front of you. You shrugged, walking alongside Eret towards the ballroom.

“It’s gonna be an interesting day, isn’t it?” You questioned, glancing up at Eret. Of course he was tall. It really did run in the family.

“Most likely, yes. They’re never quiet, and Tommy gets antsy quick,” Eret said with a laugh, making you smile. You didn’t think you would mind too much if it made it lively. It would take care of the uneasiness you felt regarding the wedding. A relief to the tension you had a feeling might form if it were just you and Techno.

“You didn’t always live here at the castle?” You broached the silence that had spread over the pair of you, and he hummed a little.

“No. I came around the time I was eight. Their mother was my aunt, and some things happened with my parents. Philza ended up adopting me, so I’m just a cousin on their other side now,” He chuckled, and you nodded. That made some sense. It just seemed the castle was hardly lacking in boys to run the place.

“I see. I imagine that keeps it rather busy here.” You shook your head, following as Eret opened the door to the ballroom.

“Very. Right! This is where the majority of the wedding will be held. The celebrations, namely. The formal ceremony will be held in the gardens, we’ll go through those in a little bit.” Eret clapped his hands together, leading you through the ballroom. He pointed to various spots, explaining the plans he had for the celebrations. You would nod along, pitching in your own opinions when you felt it necessary.

“I think you should go to the brothel and get some women,” A new voice chimed in from near the veranda, making you jump.

“I like the way you think, Big Q! It’s not a party without some women!” Tommy responded, and you turned towards the voices. You blinked at the new person standing among the princes, a lopsided grin on his face. His black hair was splayed messily on his head, smudges of dirt along his face. You had a feeling he had been messing with the other, who also had dirt on their faces and bodies. What a mess. Tubbo and Tommy even seemed to have a few forming bruises on their arms, Tommy’s hidden by the same green bandana he had worn in the portrait you saw in the dining hall. 

“I don’t think the princess is fond of the idea of there being whores at her wedding, Quackity,” Wilbur piped up upon seeing your rather deadpan face. The expression was similarly mimicked by Techno, who stood behind the four of them.

“Princess? Oh- shit!” Quackity did a double take, before giving a hurried bow. Seemingly remembering exactly who he was talking to. Amusement at the almost embarrassed look on his face caused your lips to twitch up into a smile.

“Right. Yes. I would prefer there to not be women from the brothel at my wedding, Quackity.” You tested his name out carefully, and he slowly stood up from his bow. Tommy snickered from behind him, failing to hide his amusement at the fool he seemingly made for himself. He rubbed the back of his neck, laughing softly.

“I would also prefer to keep it that way,” Techno said as he stepped around the group, back towards you. He stood on your other side, leaving you in the middle of the two men. Which made you feel incredibly small.

“You two are so boring, what’s the fun without women?” Tommy groaned, trailing behind Wilbur and Tubbo as they wandered over as well. 

“You’ll have fun anyways, Tommy. You always manage.” Tubbo barely looked at his friend, eagerly listening to Eret as he went over what he had been telling you once more. The group gathered around you, but you hardly minded right now.

“I was thinking, Tubbo and I could do some of the music. We’ll have other musicians too, but I think it’d be nice to be able to play. It’s not every day your little brother gets married,” Wilbur talked, grinning over to Techno. Techno huffed, head shaking as the older affectionately threw out the term.

“Oh, that’d be wonderful!” You lit up with a smile, fully on board with the idea. Wilbur smiled back, seemingly fond of your approval.

“And,” he started, his grin turning almost mischievous, “I think it would be even better if our groom here plays a piece himself. You do play violin after all, Techno.” The words made your hopeful gaze turn towards Techno. He looked almost neutral, though his eyebrows were furrowed and a faint flush painted his cheeks.

“Well, I-” He grumbled, looking down to you and your soft smile. He gave an almost frustrated sigh, looking away. “Fine. I’ll play something.” He huffed a little.

“Perfect! So we’ve got rough plans for the ballroom decorations and the music.” You clapped your hands together, grinning.

“What the hell, Techno? You never play for anyone!” Tommy whined, eyes wide as he looked between you and him.

“It is his wedding, Tommy. It’s only fitting he plays,” Tubbo defended. Tommy, Tubbo, and Quackity bickered about Techno’s playing as Eret led that large group towards the veranda. Techno held your hand as you went down the stairs. Tommy made a mocking gag sound, and Quackity simply imitated Techno, holding his hand out for Tommy.

“Quackity, stop it, I’m not holding your hand,” Tommy complained, nose wrinkling. You shook your head, eyes rolling. They really were like children. 

You peered at the flowers as you walked to the gardens, looking for any you recognized. Eret spoke about the plans, and you absently nodded along. At least until he showed you where the ceremony would be held. “Here?” You murmured curiously, looking at the flowers. Your fingers ran over the petals, trying to note the flowers you did see. The easiest to identify was the roses- why was it always roses? Red bled into the white from the edges, and you smiled just slightly. They were pretty, most of the ones back home were either red, white, or yellow. Rarely hybrids. The only time you received a hybrid of one was from dream, but they were never red and white. Always red and yellow.

Curled near the roses stood a plant with broad green leaves and occasional clumps of pink flowers. It was faintly familiar, and you struggled to place it. You remembered Dream stating that they weren’t the best flower, trying his best to remove it from the gardens. You had no idea why, though, as it seemed to be doing just fine here. A hand grabbed yours as you went to run your fingers along the leaves, tugging it away.

“Careful,” Techno mumbled. He dropped your hand, lifting the leaves carefully. Behind them was a thick branch, coated in thorns. You had barely noticed them, stretching out about an inch. You had been so focused on the flowers.

“Thank you,” you murmured, turning back towards Eret with a soft smile. “This’ll do wonderful. What’s next?”

“That’s most of the basic stuff for decoration at the moment. I think Nihachu wanted to discuss catering? I have to get some stuff together for your dress, but I can come find you when I have,” Eret explained. You nodded, seemingly content with the idea.

“Do we have to come along?” Tommy groaned loudly, clearly growing bored with all of the proceedings. You laughed, head shaking.

“You never had to, Tommy. I think the only people obligated are Techno and I.” You shrugged, letting the group move back towards the castle.

“Come on then, Tubbo. Let’s get out of here, this is so damn boring.” The brunette looked towards you as if for confirmation, and you simply waved your hand. You didn’t expect them to truly tag along for too long. Especially Tommy, he didn’t seem the patient type to deal with planning.

“I’ll come check in later!” Tubbo tried to offer as Tommy, and Quackity, practically dragged him off. For what, you had no idea, but you didn’t want to ask questions. This thinned out the large group, allowing you to let out a soft breath. It was less crowded, which you definitely appreciated.

“Nihachu said she’d be in the dining hall with some samples of food for you to try,” Wilbur spoke, pausing at the top of the veranda. He watched Techno help you up, Eret slipping away from the three of you to go do what he needed.

“Sounds good with me,” You hummed. This might be one of the longer parts of the day, but you didn’t mind. Food was important, especially for a wedding. Even if it was stunning with beautiful music, you knew it would feel empty without proper food. As most celebrations would. Inside the dining hall was the same woman Wilbur was with the day prior, fussing over various plates on the table.

“Nihachu!” Wilbur called, causing the blonde to look up. She grinned up at him, practically bounding over to him to give him a hug. 

“Staying to taste the food?” She asked, focusing on him for a few moments.

“I’d never miss an excuse to eat it outside of meals.” He ruffled her hair, making her wrinkle her nose. She turned towards you and Techno, grin softening to a smile as she curtseyed slightly. 

“I’m Nihachu, it’s so nice to finally meet you,” She greeted warmly. You couldn’t help but return the smile, almost relieved to see another woman among the boys you seemed constantly surrounded by.

“You too. It’s a blessing to have someone who isn’t a prince to deal with.”

“Hey!” Wilbur gasped in offense, echoed by Techno’s quiet ‘Heh?’ of confusion. Nihachu only laughed, covering her mouth with a hand.

“Come on, there’s lots to try and discuss. Everything can be mixed and matched, as well. We have plenty of time between now and the wedding to refine everything.” She motioned the three of you towards the table, pointing to various dishes and explaining them to you. Some of them were unbelievably good, and you made sure to point that out. She seemed pleased with the praise each time, making note to include whatever you praised into the catering.

As she pointed to one of the dishes, you noted the ring on her finger, piquing your interest. “Are you married?” You asked without much thought, motioning to the simple band. Nihachu glanced to the ring, cheeks reddening slightly.

“Oh-! No, not yet, at least. It’s a ring my girlfriend gave me to promise she only had good intentions,” She murmured in embarrassment. Wilbur laughed beside her, trying and failing to hide the fact. She pushed at him slightly, trying to bring the focus back to the food instead. 

After a couple of hours of tasting and discussing, it was finally finished. She seemed content with the feedback, promising she would make sure everything was perfect. She actually seemed quite ecstatic to have the job she did. She simply took the paper she made her notes on, running off towards the kitchens once more.

“Right, all that’s left is the dress. Eret is setting up in one of the spare rooms,” Wilbur informed, motioning towards the exit. “I’m going to help Nihachu clear this.” You looked on in amusement as Wilbur began picking up plates, finding it hilarious that a prince was taking care of dirty dishes. All the same, you didn’t say anything and left the room with Techno. He was quiet as he led you towards the spare rooms, eyebrows furrowed.

“Do you need me to help with the dress?” He murmured, not exactly looking at you as he hovered outside the door. You blinked a little, processing the information. He didn’t want to help? Then you realized you were probably getting measurements taken, and who knew what else. Was he too embarrassed to help?

“I should be fine. Why don’t you go talk to your father about getting Tubbo a room here? Get him away from Schlatt,” you offered an alternative with a smile. A look of relief flooded his eyes, and he nodded.

“I’ll come get you in a while,” He informed, watching as you slid into the room. Eret smiled at you from where he was hovering over various fabrics, motioning you towards the middle of the room.

“I see everyone decided to abandon you,” he joked, picking up a strip of paper and walking towards you. All too familiar with the process that was about to happen, you lifted your arms. Eret took the paper, placing it against your arm and marking it.

“Wilbur decided to stick with Nihachu, and Techno really was trying to find a reason to not come in here,” You laughed, watching as Eret moved around, taking various measurements and marking them onto the strip he was using.

“That sounds like him. You send him off?” He leaned down, wrapping the strip around your waist snuggly.

“Told him to talk to his father about getting Tubbo one of the spare rooms in the castle, the boys mentioned it yesterday and I see why.”

“Schlatt is questionable at best. It would do Tubbo good to get away from him. I need to measure your legs,” He murmured, eyebrows furrowing. His cheeks painted pink, and he seemed to have only just realized what it entailed.

“It’s just measurements, Eret. It’s not scandalous,” you muttered reassuringly. You shifted the skirts of your dress as needed. Eret fell silent, seemingly embarrassed as he crouched in front of you to do the needed measurements on your legs. You tried your best to not laugh at how flustered he seemed, keeping any comments to yourself.

“Right, okay,” he cleared his throat, standing up and walking back towards the fabrics. You followed, peering over his shoulder. “Is this everything you were hoping for?”

“It’s… not, no. I never really planned to have a wedding with the prince of another kingdom, let alone one who was to become king. I thought I’d marry a noble in my own kingdom and live out my life there,” You explained. Eret picked up one of the white fabrics, holding it against your body and examining it. For what, exactly, you weren’t sure. Still, you let him do as he needed.

“That makes sense. Are you disappointed with this, though?” He seemed to want to talk, but you weren’t entirely against it. Not many people had cared to ask you how you felt about this whole thing. 

“No, not at all. It presents options I was never granted back home.” Eret held up a delicate lace, layering it over a fabric to hold against you.

“Good. Hopefully everything turns out as you want it to. I think that should be all now? There’s not too much to be done until the dress is actually made,” He murmured, setting the fabrics down.

“Perfect, just call on me whenever you need me to check in or anything.” You beamed, only glancing at the fabrics as he continued to shift through them. You truly trusted him on whatever he was deciding to make. Everyone here seemed competent enough, though it made you feel a little useless. You supposed all you could do truly was offer feedback, which they seemed content with. 

Techno was leaned against a wall outside the room, glancing up when you opened the door. You smiled at him, and he simply pushed off the wall, motioning towards where your rooms were. “Get changed, put on pants,” He said flatly, making you arch an eyebrow at him.

“What for, exactly?” You questioned, following him all the same.

“Unless you want to learn to fight in a dress.” He glanced at you, eyebrows raised in question. Your stomach flipped in excitement, and you desperately suppressed the urge to run to your room.

“I think pants would be better for that,” you laughed, nerves leaking through the sound. Finally, you were going to learn to fight. Next Chapter | >

[nextqueue]

All An Act (part one)

Genre(s): romance, slow burn, angst, drama

Pairing: Ji Chang Wook x OC black female

Word Count: 3.2k

Summary: Aliah is a new foreign actress in South Korea who just got her first big break as a lead actress in a drama. Her co-lead is the ever amazing Ji Chang Wook whom she has always had a silly little crush on. 

[a/n]: I am not the best with summaries so please read and let me know what you think. (you can leave summary ideas also I don’t mind). The overwhelming lack of black writers and black characters in fanfics on this app is wild to me so I will only be writing from the angle of a black reader, if ya don’t like it I am 100% sure you can find plenty of stories to cater to your demographic here. All feedback is welcome! Hope you all are have a blessed day or night (depending on where you are from)! 

“Okay Aliah, we are going to go over the kiss scene now.” 

I feel my palms start to sweat and feel for one of my coping skills but find none because of the wardrobe. I start flicking my nails against each other to placate the need to chew on them. 

“Hey. There is no need to be so nervous. I got you.” his hands engulf my face and my heart rate picks up without my permission. This is not helping at all. I want him away from me, I need him away from me. I won’t be able to breathe if he is so close. I can’t think. 

The director yells action and I lose all my anxiety. 

He looks into my eyes willing me to understand what he is trying to convey. My eyes close on their own. The kiss was shy at first like how we discussed at the meeting then something snaps and we both seem to forget about acting. The way he pulls me to him makes me think he wants more so I give him more. I open my mouth to him and he happily dives in. His hands slide down my back and come to rest on my hips, pulling me flush against him. He is hard. I rub against him a little then pull away when a soft groan leaves his lips. I barely remember my next lines and everyone can see his internal struggle to remember his lines. 

He recites his lines perfectly after covering up his slip up by pretending he is short of breath, genius really. This is why he is one of the best actors in Korea and I aspire to be like him. 

The director yells cut and we both snap out of our stupor. I feel my face, willing it to cool down I remove myself from the set to catch my breath and process what just happened. I kissed Ji Chang Wook. The Ji Chang Wook. My hand finds its way to my lips of its own volition. Touching where his lips once laid. My makeup artist comes to touch up my makeup snapping me back to reality. 

“Hey. Calm down. It was just a kiss kiddo.” she rubs my arms lovingly.

“I know.”

“But?”

“But...it’s Ji Chang Wook. I have been a fan of his for years now and this all just seems so surreal.” I spread my legs to make it easier for her to reach my face. She is a tiny little thing, barely reaching my shoulder. 

“I understand that but you have to focus.” 

“Was it really that bad?”

“No, but I could tell you weren’t just acting because I am constantly in your face.” she looks me dead in my eyes, challenging me to say she is wrong. I can’t do anything but look away and blush.

The director calls us back for a few more takes of the scene, I can do nothing but try to still my heart for the rest of the evening. It seems like forever before the shooting is finally done and my lips, I know are completely swollen and raw from the intensity of the kisses. The director had us try at least fifteen different kisses from different angles. With each one Chang Wook was patient and gentle, always talking to me before and after and making sure to hold me gently in between. I couldn’t help but feel special. 

I’m not so dense that I would think he would catch feelings from a couple of kisses and touches. Packing my stuff up at the end of the shoot I try my best to keep the events of the day out of my mind. I don’t want to dream about him, tonight, I have managed not to so far and we have been filming for three months so far. Tonight is different though. I know I am going to, my emotions are too high and I was far too sensitive to his touches all day. The way his hands gripped my face each time like I was made of glass. The way he gazed into my eyes as if he was asking permission each time. As if he was trying to tell me something other than what the script was saying. The way his lips would brush against mine before claiming mine. The way it seemed like he was trying to brand the shape of his mouth onto mine. Wanting me to only know his lips, his shape, the feel of him, the taste.

I feel something cool touch the back of my neck making me jump and turn to face it. It is him. Standing there jacket and jeans on with a smile on his face, looking like the most perfect boyfriend. 

“Hey, you okay? I was calling your name.” I watch the way his lips form words partially because it’s a habit. After all, I’m hard of hearing, but mainly because I like looking at his mouth. 

“Yeah, I’m okay. Just deep in thought, I guess.” That wasn’t necessarily a lie.

“Mmm, okay. I was wondering...what you were doing after. Would you like to go get something to eat?”

I look around in bewilderment barely registering that he is addressing me. I search for my manager and best friend, seeing her across the set talking with the director. He follows my line of sight and looks back at me with a soft smile.

“If it is okay with your manager of course.” he concedes. 

“Oh...uh… it should be fine but let me text her.”

I watch for her reaction after I message her. She checks her phone briefly then looks over at me giving me a thumbs up. My phone pings, she is asking if I have my keys and if my phone is charged enough. I nod at her and she shoos me away after giving Wook a glare. He bows to her then turns back to me with a brilliant smile on his face.

“Great! Let’s go. I have somewhere I wanted to take you. I think you will like it.” 

He leads me outside the set to the parking lot where he guides me to a motorcycle. I almost missed the fact that he is talking to me about riding his bike because his hand is resting on my lower back and seems to be attempting to burn a hole through my clothes. 

“I hope you are okay with riding my bike.” 

“I am more than okay with it! I love motorcycles!” the smile that graces his face was everything I could have ever wanted. 

Grabbing the extra helmet from the back of his ride he turns to me looking expectantly at my hair. I quickly take my locs down from the complicated bun they are in and put them into a low ponytail. I missed one and he tucks it back in with the rest before sliding the helmet on my head. His fingers expertly clip the strap under my chin and tighten it. With each brush of his fingers against my skin, I feel my entire body heat up significantly.

“Comfortable?” I nod and give him a small smile. 

“Good. Do you know how to ride?” I nod again.

“Great.” he hops onto the beautiful beast of a vehicle and starts it. It sounds amazing and the excitement of riding finally hits me dispelling the nervousness of being with him a little. He looks back at me after he slips his helmet on, nodding towards the space behind him. I happily hop on and settle in behind his large form, finding the footrest easily. I grab onto the sides of his jacket but he has another idea. Grabbing my hands he wraps them around his torso making sure my palms are laid flat against his stomach. The nervousness settles back in tenfold, I tense up against my will. My thighs squeeze him and my hands subconsciously curl into his shirt. His stomach flexes and I swear I hear him chuckle a little.

Soon we pull out of the parking lot and begin flying down the highway back to Seoul. I relax some once we have been riding for a few minutes. The cool air feels good against my skin making the ride more enjoyable than stressful. I feel warm everywhere my body touches him and find myself drawing closer to him. My hands spread out over his stomach, I lay my chest to his back and rest my head against his broad shoulders. I feel safe.

Far too soon, we reach our destination. A little shop out of the way of the hustle and bustle of the city. He lets me dismount first then gets off to help me take my helmet off. He pulls my hair out of its hold and slips the tie around his wrist. He takes my helmet along with his into one hand then grabs my hand to lead me into the shop. The smell of beef and seafood hits me as soon as we cross the threshold. Wook calls out to someone for a table and they answer back telling us we can choose anywhere to sit. Clearly having been here before he leads me to a table in the corner of the shop a little way out of sight. Understandable, considering his fame. He makes sure I am seated comfortably at the little table before he seats himself and this warms my heart. 

I look everywhere but at him when he sits, yet I can feel his gaze heavy on my face. I am saved when this cute little old lady comes to give us the menus and hugs Wook tenderly. I can’t help but smile at the interaction. She scolds him for losing weight and not visiting often enough, then she turns to me.

“Now who is this beautiful woman?” she asks him while bowing to me. I shyly bow back as deep as I can from my seated position.

“This is my co-star in my new drama. Her name is Aliah.” for some reason my heart hurts a little at his explanation but it really shouldn’t because all he did was tell the truth.

“Pleased to meet you, Miss.” 

“Oh, you speak Korean well!” her praise is the standard for everyone that hears me speak the language so effortlessly.

“I approve. Treat him kindly please.” I bow again to her as she leaves, her words confusing me. 

“She is my grandmother’s best friend and like family.” Wook explains.

I nod in understanding then reach for a menu but his hand on top of mine stops me. Looking up at him I find he is watching me intently. 

“I can’t help but notice you don’t speak much around me. Why is that?” 

Of course, he noticed it. I don’t actively mean to do it’s just whenever he is close around me I clamp up. Honestly, I don’t know how I have been able to be around him every day and act with him. I just become a nervous anxious mess around him outside of acting. Acting is easy. Real-life isn’t.

I steel myself before looking into his eyes.

“You make me nervous.”

“I do?”

I nod my head. He still has his hand on top of mine.

“Oh, well I’m sorry. I don’t mean to. Is there anything I can do to help?” he removes his hand from mine and I desperately want it back.

“No. It’s really not you. I just…” I trail off realising what I was about to say. About to say I just like you is all.

“If it makes you feel any better you make me nervous as well. I don’t know what to do or say to get close to you and I just feel awkward. I asked you here so maybe I could do just that, get closer to you.” 

His rambling reveal shocks me. I would have never thought in a million years I could make him nervous. A giggle escapes me against my will and he looks up at me sharply.

“Sorry!” I clamp a hand over my mouth but the smile won’t leave my face.

“No, it’s fine.” his eyes seem to twinkle with mirth at my outburst.

“Should we order?” I nod enthusiastically. I ask him what he likes best here telling him I will eat whatever he orders since it is my first time. He orders a beef platter, seafood platter, a lunchbox, and a few bowls of rice for both of us. I am pleasantly surprised he ordered so much food but silently thank him nonetheless. I am starving after a whole day of filming and just snacking.

After our mutual admissions conversation began to flow easier. We talk about everything and anything. He shares stories about his family and I share mine. We laugh as he cooks the food over the grill for us. I tell him about my struggles coming to Korea as I pour Cola for the both of us. We continue chatting in between swallows of food until the subject of relationships comes up.

“So, do you have a boyfriend?” he asks the question so nonchalantly it irritates me a little. I would like there to be some sort of hesitation when asking. Looking him dead in the eyes I tell him no, I hope he understands the message behind my eyes. ‘No, I don’t have a boyfriend because I want you’.

“No? Why? Is there anyone you are interested in?” he is staring down at his rice, stabbing it and mixing it kind of roughly. His tone changed. At the end, it changed. I realise he is acting, something I have come to realise is not okay with me. Liars are my biggest pet peeve which is ironic considering my line of work now.

“Because I am picky I guess. I have someone in mind but I’m not sure he would feel the same way.” I decide to mess with him a little, if he can act so can I.

“Picky? What do you mean by that?” 

I set my utensils down giving him my whole attention.

“Well before I even came to Korea there was this idol I had always loved and respected from the time I was a little girl. You know Bang Yongguk?” he nods and sets his utensils down as well.

“It was him. For years he was my standard for men. His morals and the way he approached the world was so gentle and open. I fell for his character and personality rather than his looks.” 

“So is it him that you are interested in still?” I have his full attention now. It’s now or never Aliah.

“No, it’s not him, although I would love to meet him and speak to him at least once in my lifetime.”

“There is a new man.”

“Yes.” his eyes trace the lines on my face, his fingers tap a quiet rhythm into the table. His body is leaning towards mine. I am sure mine is doing the same.

“Who is this new man? Describe him to me.”

“I think you already know who he is.” I pick my utensils up and resume eating, breaking the spell we were in. He stares at me for a few moments before also finishing his food.

He calls for the cheque when we finish and I try to pay for my half of the food at least but he refuses, saying something about how when I am with him I will never have to pay for anything. He thanks the Granny then grabs our helmets making his way out of the shop. The Granny stops me before I can exit and pulls me down to her to whisper in my ear.

“He thinks highly of you. He has never once brought anyone here let alone a woman."

"How come?" her admission startles me.

"This is his safe spot. He comes here when he wants a home-cooked meal but isn't able to go home. I'm the closest thing to family he has in the city. He doesn't bring anyone here because he wants to keep his personal and family life completely separate from his line of work."

I slowly nod as she sends me off after dropping that bomb on me. It makes me view Wook in a completely different light once again. This is something that has been happening since the first day we met.

I know he comes from a single-parent family and is an only child. I am not surprised he turned out as well mannered and kind as he is after speaking with his mother once over a video call. The way he approaches people though is unique, he watches them first to see how they react to the environment then approaches them in a way that makes them comfortable. The first time we met he approached me with a smile on his face and kind words on his lips. He made me feel comfortable like I was part of the team. Anything I didn’t understand he was kind enough to translate. He was patient and quite understanding almost to the point where it became overwhelming, almost. He knew exactly when to back off and give me my space. 

The ride home was peaceful, so peaceful I fell asleep. Never in my life have I felt so safe with someone who was not my immediate family. 

“Aliah. Hey. Wake up beautiful.” 

I open my eyes to Chang Wook’s face inches from mine. He is holding me up in the seat of the bike. I rub the sleep from my eyes and smile at him. It’d be nice to wake up to his face every day. I caress his cheek taking in all of his features, the unevenness of his eyes, the slight crookedness in his jaw, the few blemishes he has are all that makes him so perfect to me. In my haze, the only thought running through my head is to kiss him. God, I want to kiss him so badly. 

“We are here.” I know he feels the shift in energy, the tension I created, so why isn’t he acting on it. 

He helps me off the bike and takes the helmet off then takes my hand, leading me inside the apartment complex. I don’t want him to go. That’s all I say to myself as we reach my door and I key in the code.

“Do you perhaps...want to come inside?” I shyly ask. I know hope is shining brightly in my eyes, I should feel embarrassed but I can’t bring myself to care enough to be. 

He hesitates, a war clearly raging within him.

“As much as I would love to, and trust me I want to so very badly, I don’t think I should.” he kisses my hands and bids me good night. I watch him until I can no longer see him down the hallway then I rush inside and run to my living room window. I catch the last glimpses of him as he exits the building, mounts his bike and rides away.

What was I thinking! Honestly, what was I planning to do after if he came in? Becky is asleep in her room, I vowed to wait until marriage, he doesn’t seem like the one-night stand type. Stupid, stupid, stupid, that’s what you are stupid. A dummy. What is this man doing to me?

[erekiosuncreativeideas]

The Part-Time Puppeteer - Chapter 09

<= Chapter 8

Summary : Lukas gets to have a conversation with a friend.

Also available on AO3 : https://archiveofourown.org/works/23828971/chapters/81432325

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Heehooo, new chapter ! I hope you'll like it !

Thank you again for all your comments, likes and reblogs. You're always making my day !

I get to see them when I wake up and let me tell you, this is the best thing I could get before going to work. Thank you so much.

This fanfic also makes me realize I'm not as bad at writing slice of life stuff as I first thought- Huh, good to know.

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Chapter 8 - “Was… Was he always like this?”

It was such a strange feeling for Lukas… Having won that duel when he had been so convinced he had no chance to begin with. He had been prepared so much to be downgraded to being a stagehand again that he had never truly considered what he’d do if he ever beat MJ.

So… He was an actor, now? The realization seemed surreal, like he was just imagining things… And yet, here he was, sitting in the staff break room, staring into space. His body was there, but his mind was somewhere else, lost in thoughts and unable to focus on the current situation. Even when other stagehands had come to congratulate him, telling him they were happy he put the diva in his place… He replied, saying thanks and every variant of it, without really being there at all.

In hindsight, the fact he had won wasn’t the reason he was feeling like this- it was that it had been so easy. Just like DJ Grooves had said, it was… A switch to flip. Sure, it required him to put his anxiety aside- but on this particular occasion, the anger he had felt towards MJ had been a way to temporarily shift his… Priorities, in some ways.

What the investor had said regarding the show had created quite the mess in the crew. While the Conductor and DJ Grooves had joined him for a private meeting regarding the scenario, most of the stagehands seemed lost. Lukas couldn’t blame them- with how the project had been questioned, it was hard to know whether to continue their job or wait for new instructions. A lot of them were exchanging thoughts about the whole thing: how they had been lucky most of the search of actors hadn’t officially started, how they were worried about a lot of their work going to waste… It was all understandable.

To think he might have been with them, perplexed about the same things… Apparently, fate had decided something else for him.

His attention was caught by the sound of a door opening, and he lifted his head. He didn’t know how much time had passed since the directors had started their meeting or how long he had been sitting in there… But he was pretty sure it had been at least a good hour. And so, when the student recognized Mike through the door frame, a feeling of confusion settled over him. Wait, didn’t he go to comfort his asshole of a twin…?

When the two young men’s eyes met, the puppet maker’s expression lightened up slightly. It didn’t take long for Lukas to understand his friend had been looking for him. Thus, he wasn’t surprised when he saw the other approaching him, before sitting next to him at the table.

-“Hey,” Mike greeted him, his voice clearly showing things hadn’t gone so well with MJ.

-“Hey,” he answered back, his expression turning concerned: “You alright?” he asked. He didn’t want to ask about the actor unless his friend actually wanted to talk about it- contrary to some people, he had been raised with manners and tact.

Said friend put his elbows on the table, leaning in as he rubbed his face:

-“I wish I could say yes, but I’m not,” he replied honestly. His mismatched eyes glanced at him, a sigh leaving his lips: “It’s not because of you,” he assured, probably not wanting Lukas to feel guilty. Well, too bad, he kinda did, with how upset Mike seemed to be.

-“Do you… Want to talk about it?” he offered, wanting nothing but to help his friend to feel better.

At his question, the puppet-maker remained silent, as if he were hesitating. Lukas waited patiently- he knew that if Mike needed to open his heart, then he would, but if he didn’t want to, then… It simply meant he wasn’t ready to, which was fine. The law student wasn’t going to force him. Eventually, though, Mike sighed again, moving his hands back to the table as he answered:

-“Morg- MJ, I mean, he’s not… He’s not a bad person,” his voice was faltering and he had to rub his eyes to hold back his tears: “I know he’s not easy to deal with, but… But he’s a nice person once you get to know him.”

“How much do you need to dig to find that ”nice person“, deep down?” Lukas thought to himself with sarcasm, but he did everything he could to keep those words to himself. Mike being related to that diva, the former most likely wasn’t objective- hell, Lukas’ relatives certainly weren’t perfect, but he still loved them nonetheless.

-“I’m sure he is,” he lied, his tone kind and comforting. With how Mike was dealing with everything, it wasn’t hard to guess some things had been said between the twins, and that it probably wasn’t the first time nor the last. Sure, Lukas couldn’t stand that guy, and the current situation wasn’t improving that, but he had no right to judge Mike for loving his brother. Still, what a great relationship… Not.

The puppet-maker sniffed and looked away. His eyes were getting red, just like his nose.

-“Sorry for… What he said to you,” Mike added after a minute: “And for… Him trying to punch you.”

-“It’s… It’s fine,” the student assured him, even if it wasn’t. Still, his friend didn’t need to hear that right now. Apparently, the other instantly noticed Lukas had just lied, as a weak scoff left his mouth, an insincere smile taking place onto his lips.

-“It’s not, you can say it,” he admitted with a shrug: “You wouldn’t be the first one to tell me that, anyway.”

Lukas turned his head, caught red-handed. Well, at least he had tried, he supposed… It was obvious Mike had gone through unpleasant conversations about his brother’s behavior- lying about everything being fine most likely wasn’t a good thing to do in those circumstances. The puppet-maker wasn’t stupid, after all.

-“Was… Was he always like this?” the young man dared to ask, slowly turning back to his friend, hoping this wouldn’t offend him. But it didn’t- on the contrary, Mike imitated him, facing him again. His expression showed sadness, pain, but also… Inner conflict.

-“… No, he wasn’t,” he shook his head, taking a deep breath as he tried to repress other, new tears: “A lot of stuff happened when we were kids, and… That left a mark. He’s never been the same since then.”

-“Do you… wanna talk about that?” the student asked, hinting at whatever trauma MJ had gone through. However, his friend frowned:

-“No. No, I don’t- I can’t,” he breathed out, leaning back against his chair: “Look, I’m… Not supposed to talk about that. It’s very… Personal, and I guess it just… Slipped out,” his eyes glanced to Lukas apologetically: “Sorry. I promised not to talk about it again, and he… Really wouldn’t like the fact I told you.”

Lukas tilted his head to the side with a wince- yeah, that was understandable. Still, he couldn’t help but be curious about what Mike was so secretive about. What kind of trauma could justify acting like an asshole to everyone? Sure, one could have gone through a lot of stuff, but that didn’t allow them to be a bitch to their friends and especially not their family! With how hard Mike was trying, it was frustrating to see the diva just… Hurting his own twin because he was frustrated or angry.

-“No, it’s fine- I get it,” he agreed, deciding not to push the topic any further: “You don’t have to tell me. Is he still around?”

-“No,” Mike shook his head, his breathing finally calming down through efforts: “He’s gone back home. I always tell him to when he needs to… Calm down.”

-“Do you think he’ll be okay?” Lukas asked out of politeness. To be completely honest, he couldn’t care less about MJ’s tantrum, but it was obvious his friend needed to speak about it. Comfort was the minimum he could offer for that.

-“I don’t… I don’t know,” the other confessed, rubbing his face again while his eyes stared into space: “It has never been that badbefore. I’m not gonna lie, this kind of thing happens… A lot. But this time, he just… Refused to talk to me. Usually, I can get him to speak his heart a little, you know? Today, he ignored me and drove back home- he didn’t even look at me.”

“What a jerk, what a jerk, what a fucking jerk,” Lukas did his best to keep that thought to himself again. Seriously, how could one act like an entitled brat that much?

-“Why… Uh,” he paused, joining his hands together as he struggled to find the right words to convey what he wanted to say: “Okay, this is going to sound bad no matter what I say, but… If he’s acting like that to you, his own brother, why would you… Keep trying?” At his sentence, Mike looked up, frowning at him- of fuck, he had been too direct, he should have kept his mouth shut: “I-I mean, don’t get me wrong, I understand why! But… You seem really upset, and you said it kept happening, so, you know…”

The student was now rambling, trying really hard to make up for his lack of tact, but eventually, Mike’s frown turned into a weak, genuine smile:

-“Because I love him,” he answered as if it were blatantly obvious: “And I guess… Because I feel guilty too,” he then admitted, looking away with an ashamed expression. Well… That was new. Him, feeling guilty? But what for? After all, Mike was perhaps one of the nicest person he had met! Apparently, his confusion must have been quite visible as the puppet-maker sighed.

-“Listen, I really can’t talk about this, it’s… Like I said, it’s something very personal for MJ. Still, well… MJ and I went through a lot when we were kids, but he had it much worse than I did. Compared to him, my childhood was easy. So… I kinda feel like I owe him my help, now that it’s over, because I couldn’t be there for him years ago. That’s all I can tell you.”

The law student fell silent- yeah, he could get what the other was saying. Still… He couldn’t help but feel like Mike was putting his own feelings to the side, prioritizing MJ’s first. It wasn’t healthy. A simple look at the puppet-maker was enough to see how upset he was!

-“Does he… Know you feel that way?” Lukas dared to ask, a bit hesitant after his previous question.

A soft and sad scoff left Mike’s lips:

-“No. I haven’t told him- but trust me, it’s fine, I’mfine,” he replied, his expression showing more determination: “I want to help him the best I can. I know he doesn’t actually want to hurt me, and that’s all I need.”

It took Lukas a lot of willpower not to retort anything about that, and so he simply nodded. Oh, he wanted to tell Mike he didn’t have to play the role of a punching bag, that he didn’t have to feel guilty about something that had happened when he was literally a child… But it was clear that Mike wasn’t going to change his mind. Plus, it wasn’t like he could have a say in this, he was just a stranger. He had no idea what had happened during the twins’ childhood and… Well, even if he didn’t think any of that would justify MJ’s actions… He still had to give both of them the benefit of the doubt.

Nonetheless, he couldn’t help but feel like this was really unfair.

-“Thanks,” the other added, visibly glad Lukas hadn’t insisted. He let out a sigh before glancing at his watch, his eyes widening as he quickly stood up: “Crap, my break’s over,” he mumbled, and then spoke louder: “I need to repair some costumes. I’ll, uh, see you soon.”

-“Oh, yeah,” the student nodded awkwardly: “Good luck.”

-“I’ll definitely need some of that…” the puppet-maker sighed again and quickly left the break room, barely looking back. His face had looked so stressed, but Lukas couldn’t blame him: with what had happened with his twin and the fact that his work had gone to waste… Yeah, that seemed to be a lot. Furthermore, Lukas guessed Mike had to postpone the work on the new puppet, considering he had to wait for the new script to be validated. Poor guy wasn’t going to design a new character when no one even knew said character’s personality yet.

The young man let out a sigh, his eyes glancing around: what was he supposed to do, now? He had been promoted, sure, but what could he do if he had to wait for his role to be remade from scratch? Even the other stagehands didn’t know what to do! It sure was a weird situation to be in. Maybe he could lend a hand to whoever needed it? There had to be someone out there needing assistance or something…

After taking a deep breath, Lukas stood up and left the break room. His legs led him through the different part of the studio, hoping to find something to do. At some point, he passed in front of a door, where loud voices could be heard through it- the Conductor’s, Grooves’ and the investor’s. Well, seemed like it was the meeting room, which was probably the last place Lukas wanted to be right now. It didn’t sound like they were arguing, no, it sounded more like an intense discussion. He couldn’t understand anything, as the voices were muffled, though it was enough for him to quicken his pace.

He then found a group of stagehands ready to put the props and backgrounds for the Moonjumper’s home back in a closet, never to be seen again. There were a lot of stuff and so, naturally, the young man decided to help them. The stagehands he joined were touched by the attention and thanked him for it. Once they were done, they offered Lukas to tag along for other tasks, and he happily accepted. Not like he had anything else to do anyway and, well, it was always a good thing to be close to the crew.

Hah, helping the stagehands… Not something MJ would do, huh?

In any case, the hours passed and most of the work was done by the evening, when it was time to leave. After saying goodbye to his co-workers and making a quick stop to Mike’s workshop for the same reason, the young man took the last bus of the day and headed home. What a day this had been… Lukas’ mind was unable to think anymore- how could he, after everything that had happened in only a few hours? His shift had been… Wild, to say the least.

Once he got home, the first thing he did was to let himself fall on his couch. Were all of his shifts going to be so exhausting…? He sighed in one of the cushions, already feeling tired enough to fall asleep- nope, he still needed to eat and do his homework. Doing the latter after such a day of work sounded terrible, though he didn’t have a lot of choice, as he didn’t want to procrastinate. Plus, thankfully, law was something he was interested in, so at least it wasn’t boring, just… Time-consuming.

After the previous night, he really, reallyneeded to sleep a good amount of hours. With that new, motivating goal in mind, the young man hurried up to put a quick meal in the microwave. As he ate, he started his homework in the meantime, his tired brain doing his best to produce a good essay. Thankfully, it was a short one, allowing him to go to sleep earlier than what he had first thought. And so… He went to bed, his head full of memories from today. He wondered what the next day would have in store for him…

It actually took two weeks for the studio to get a new, validated version of the script. In the meantime, Lukas kept helping the other stagehands the best he could. He visited Mike in his workshop during his breaks, trying to see if his friend was feeling better. It took a few days but soon enough, they were back at talking about various topics. Visiting Mike also let him have a look at the new character designs the other was preparing, various versions he was planning to show the directors, so they could pick a particular design. All of them were really different from one another.

Lukas didn’t get the opportunity to read the script yet, as the Conductor and DJ Grooves wanted to be sure it was perfect before showing it to the team this time. However, Mike had gotten some information on the new characters and changes, as he had to design them and couldn’t do so without knowing their personality. Thus, the other shared him the secret info he had been given- and so, apparently, the new character was going to be a ghost ruling over a forest or something like that… Mike wasn’t given too much information on the setting itself, but the student still got to learn that this character was going to be charismatic, sadistic, and mischievous. From what the puppet-maker had learned, he told Lukas the directors were most likely inspired by his performance to write this new character.

This was… Really flattering. For days, he had thought they had disliked his improvisation, but it seemed like he was wrong. Learning that made his day- his week, even!

Eventually, the script was finally ready and finished, with the investor’s approval. Lukas received a copy and was told to read his parts for the day after, so he could get familiarized with this new character. He was… Strangely excited to do so, knowing this character was based on him. In the meantime, the crew made another audition announcement, this time featuring all the new characters and removing the ones that were cut.

Lukas didn’t think he would be one of those people but… He actually couldn’t wait to go back to his job!

… Too bad this passion was going to be stained in the near future.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Oh boy I love ending my chapter ominously huh

=> Chapter 10

[cookiedoughmeagain]

Thanks for the tag @halfthealphabet ! Fanfic writer questions ...

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

er, 190 apparently. Not really sure how that happened. There are a few more on the way for the AU-gust challenge :)

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

Not including the episode notes; 491,066

3. How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

It’s actually more than I thought: the total list is 16, though almost all of my fics are for Haven. In fact I got curious enough to work it out; literally 90% of them involve Haven.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Wrong Number (Nuke/Threegulls)

Anticipation (Threegulls)

Tell Me You Meant It (Naudrey/Nuke/Threegulls)

I Love the Sound (Nuke)

I Could Stand To See A Little More (Naudrey/Threegulls)

5. What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

Definitely ‘Addicted to the feel of her skin’, by a long shot. 110% angst from start to finish.

6. What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?

Hmmmmm well … maybe ‘Made of Aether and Held Together with Love’ (an alternative version of Dwight and Duke’s final scene). Or I like the ending to the series that begins with ‘I Could Stand To See A Little More’, and also the ending to ‘Tell Me You Meant It’, aaaannndddd the ending to ‘The Three Of Us’ which I just went to re-read and it actually made me cry because it is kind of emotional but in a happy way :)

7. Do you write crossovers? If so, what is the craziest one you've written?

Yes, I’ve got a few. Not sure about the craziest, maybe The Smuggler and The Big Bad’… Haven and Buffy ... what happens when a vampire drinks Crocker blood full of aether?

8. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yesssss, mostly M/M or M/M/F, mostly Nuke or Threegulls. Almost all of it is Haven. There’s some fluffy stuff, some angsty stuff, some stuff with restraints and planned out games, some where they just jump each other, some getting-together stuff, some established-relationship stuff, some based closely on canon, some in AU settings pretty far from canon, some non-con stuff, some crossovers. I’m currently working on something involving shibari (even though I know nothing about it, so we’ll see how that goes!) Oh and a couple of things in the works for Lost Girl :)

9. Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

Yes - it’s lovely to get comments, so it just seems like the natural thing to respond.

10. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

No. Mostly due to writing in a small and friendly fandom I think :)

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Someone copied and pasted some of my stuff into their fic (without any prior interaction with me). That was a pretty surreal experience reading my exact words in some stranger’s fic. 

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes!!! Amazingly yes! Into Russian!!! Still blows my mind that that happened. The original is here (explicit PWP)

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Not much, a little bit with @greyhavenisback - ‘Proposal’ (fluffy Nuke fluff :)

14. What's your all time favourite ship?

Nathan/Duke

15. What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

Too many. There's a Buffy/Firefly crossover that I’m kind of sad I stalled on. And a Haven/Firefly crossover that I can’t quite seem to get together, even though I know how I want it to end which is usually a fairly solid sign I’ll finish something. And my current ongoing WIP has potential plot spanning at least 27 years so that … is going to keep me busy for a while lol

16. What are your writing strengths?

Well … we’ve established I’ve written a fair amount of smut, so I guess that’s probably on the list. Most of those top-five-by-kudos are pretty smutty ones. And, idk maybe characterisation, dialogue. I think what I’m drawn to most is describing how these characters talk to each other, how they feel about each other, how they react to each other. So sometimes that’s a line of dialogue, sometimes it’s trying to describe the tone of voice or the type of smile or the way one person reaches for another, or the way their breath catches when one of those other things happens. Trying to capture an emotion and pin it down into words on a page. I think that’s a big part of what keeps me writing so hopefully I have some aptitude in it XD I’ve had some really nice comments about specific lines of dialogue being in character :)

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Plot. Planning anything out, but specifically any detailed kind of a plot. Like I always have really vague thoughts that it would be cool to do a Haven crossover with something like White Collar or Leverage … but those intricate crimes and cons type of plot lines are really just beyond me.

18. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I don’t have the language skills to do that. It’s not something I’ve come across as a reader.

19. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Haven! I never expected to even read any fanfiction, let alone write anything. Then Duke Crocker and Nathan Wuornos buried their way into my head and here we are ;)

20. What's your favourite fic you've written?

Ooooof, I’m supposed to pick one?

OK Let’s go with Made of Aether and Held Together with Love (an alternative version of Dwight and Duke’s final scene, in 1770 words) because it tackles the one aspect of canon that I really can not get my head around why the writers did that. Like, I’m not saying everything else is perfect but I can kind of let most things go. And I can understand why they might have wanted to write Duke’s ending the way they did … but in that case, guys, you can’t also give Lizzie the ending you did. It doesn’t make any sense; pick one or the other. And there’s no attempt in the show to explain that contradiction; it just feels like they didn’t think it through, which is frustrating.

And I like how that fic worked out and how I can visualise it happening because it would have been so easy for them to actually film it like that - I can almost convince myself it actually happened on screen ;)

Tagging ... anyone who sees this! I think most people I'd tag already have been, but if you see this and you write stuff, give it a go - always interesting to look back over old stuff :)

[redrosesartcabin]

The cave incident: Kenji x first perspective reader pt. 2 of 2

(Link to part one https://redrosesartcabin.tumblr.com/post/641312472793546752/the-cave-incident-kenji-x-first-perspective )

“Looks like we are stuck here”, Kenji said with a calmness, that however had that kind of underlaying tone that suggests a storm of panic coming soon.

“Hey hey hey: Not so fast. Let’s not give up just yet”, I answered softly, “Maybe if you could stabilize the motorcycle whilst I climb on top I could reach the edge of the cave”.

“Ok”, he said sceptically.

He held the vehicle whilst I stood on top. My fingers reached to the edge, but I was definitely still too far away. I knew that had been the only option, but still I tried contemplating.

“Ok, maybe if you sit on top and I get on your shoulders-“

“Y/n”, he interrupted that thought process bluntly.

“What?”, I grunted

“Stop. This may not be the deepest of caves…holes…cave-holes, but this ain’t a three feet puddle. Face it, we are stuck. We have nothing that could us even close”

“Yeah yeah, ok, you’re right”, I had to admit. Not something I liked to admit, but he was. But I sure didn’t do it without a glare.

“What are you looking at me like that for? Did I suggest riding the motorcycle?”

“Oh I see: now you want to blame it on me! The macho man finds himself in a bad situation and needs a scape goat. Ain’t that typical for you”, I hissed back.

Usually, or especially in the beginning, he would’ve kept on discussing and defending his greatness, but this time, to my surprise he flinched.

The quiet settled in faster than a second could pass.

He sat down on the ground and seemed to space out for a moment. I couldn’t move for a while, that’s how much that reaction surprised me.

Finally my body obeyed me again. I got down on my knees before him, trying to catch his eyes.

“Kenji, are you ok? I’m sorry I-“

“NO”, he interrupted me, “you’re right. I did try to act like I was better. I can’t seem to stop it… It’s a wonder anyone likes me at all”

“Oh hey now: What’s with the sudden change of attitude?”, I asked concerned, “didn’t you consider yourself the charming glue that holds the group together? Where has that Kenji gone?”

He let out a sad sounding laugh, “That Kenji did a run for it. That Kenji did call himself that but … did anybody ever say that about me because they genuinely thought that about me?”

“Did they ever dispute it?”, I asked, trying the lighten the mood, though I was starting to get his point.

He however still didn’t look convinced. I sighed in deeply, “Look: You might’ve started off as a jerk. Maybe even a major one. You might’ve come off as a rich, spoiled child. Which in many regards, is what you are: But you’ve proven, that that was just your outer shell. You’ve proven, that you are compassionate and understanding. And you know it.

We all have flaws. Some more than others. Some appear more undesirable and annoying than others. And especially those are hard to get over, because those have been acquired by default of how you grew up”

“Oh wow”, he simply answered, “I didn’t know you understood me… that well”

“I like psychoanalyzing people”, I answered with a bemused smile before I returned to the appropriate serious expression, “but besides that: I think we connected… or at least I thought so”

“No no … you’re right: We have but… I just… nobody ever even tried to understand me that way so deeply like you have, not even our other friends”

“It’s a gift I suppose”, I smiled, a concerned frown planted on my brows, “but I might have just also taken a liking in you”

“That’s the thing: I have taken a liking in you too. That’s why I realized more quickly this time, that this thing that I keep doing is just such an asshole move. I’m sorry”

“It’s ok-“

“No! It’s not ok.”, he interrupted me. The pain he had in his eyes almost hurt: I had never seen him so serious and broken, “I didn’t want to be like this. Not with you anyways. I know It’s not impressive or great. Yet that has been planted in my brain for so long. Like a tumor you can’t get rid of. And I just don’t know how to be different. How to connect to others my age that way.”

“But you do. You’ve shown who you are. You see: Getting out of a habit is a process. There are high and low points. Moments where you succeed and some where you slip again. But eventually you won’t slip at all. It’s a matter of patience and, you could say, practice. But eventually: eventually you’ll be the version you’ve always aspired to be”

He looked at me directly now. His gaze struck deep as he gifted me the most honest and cozy kind of smile he had ever mustered up, “How are you this understanding and patient with me? How do I deserve it?”

“I love you, that’s-“, I interrupted myself as he stood up in an abrupt motion and stared at me with his eyes wide open.

“Oh”, I whispered, “I slipped”, I said out loud, “that confession was way too sudden. Sorry”

He ignored my blabbering and asked instead, with a voice as quiet as a mouse, “When did you plan on telling me that?”

I chuckled saying, “probably never”, and averted my eyes as quickly as I could.

“So, it took us falling into a cave and an accidental deep talk huh?”, he said, seeming a little stunted at it all.

“I mean: I was afraid. I’ve always been someone afraid of rejection and I didn’t think you’d like me. And you apparently-“

“Do”, he interrupted me. Now I was the wide eyed one.

“I’ve been afraid too. And not even that cave made me slip You just seemed too kind, too smart for me”

“Oh wow”, I could only say.

I stood up as well again now.

The wind was cool down here and with the sun setting. The pink and red hues of the sun set crept down the hole and lay on Kenji like a bright shadow surrounding him making the moment even more surreal. He literally looked like I was looking at him through rose colored glasses.

I had to chuckle. Luckily, that loosened the tension and he laughed back.

Kenji dared to step forward now. He came closer and closer until I could feel his hot breath on my face. I looked up at him curious and expectant. He gave me that look with half lidded eyes, knitted eyebrows that suggested a certain gesture.

I closed my eyes and led myself be led by the motion he had initiated until I could feel soft lips on mine. A moment I thought I could only ever dream of had settled and I felt at peace.

“There you are! Guys I found them, they are more than fine!”, Kenji and me suddenly heard Sammy yell.

We broke apart quickly, a little embarrassed to be caught in the moment of our first kiss, yet very happy to be found.

We looked up where we saw Sammy and Bumpy standing. One second later Ben followed who scratched Bumpy’s head and whispered something I could decipher as “good girl”. Bumpy apparently was the one who had discovered us.

At last, the others came as well, who brought a big rope with them.

“Come on you guys. I fear we got to leave the motorcycle behind, but we’ll get you out in no time”, Yaz said and we kept it at that.

And in a matter of second we were up again, holding hands as we stood before our rescue squad.

Brooklynn smiled, “I knew it”

“I can’t believe I didn’t believe you. Again!”, Sammy had to laugh as well, “but there they were smooching it away”

“We were not smooching”, I pouted

“Wait: You two?”, Ben and Darius asked in chorus.

“Am I really the only one who noticed? Come on guys!”, Brooklynn asked. We all laughed at that heartily.

I had to give it to her: She really had a feeling for people. Not even I had noticed his feelings for me or vice versa.

“And that’s why you are the unboxing girl and not us”, Kenji chuckled.

“Very funny Kenji”, Brooklynn retorted, “but seriously: It took you both to fall into a freaking hole to confess. You both are chicken”

To back up that point both Darius and Ben made chicken noises at which Sammy laughed and Yaz rolled her eyes, but with an endeared smile as she looked at Sammy laughing.

‘Those two should confess too’, I thought but kept it to myself: They’d figure it out eventually.

“Ok enough of us and kissing in a cave…hole…cave-hole”, Kenji announced, “let’s get home”

“Let’s do”, I smiled.

‘Best accident ever!’, I thought, and I’d like to think, so did Kenji…

(I hope you liked it!) (please leave feedback if possible. Also: Feel free to send requests for one shots if there is something specific you’d like to read in regards to Kenji x reader fanfics (though I won’t accept every suggestion if its about something I have little to no experience with I hope you understand <3. With that I wish y’all a great day!)

[haberdashing]

No Puppet Strings Can Hold Me Down (15/?)

The Magnus Archives fanfic. An AU that diverges from canon between episodes 159 and 160, in which Peter Lukas’ statement that “he got you” takes on a different meaning.

on AO3

Jon was a little surprised that more didn’t change after that conversation. It made sense, he supposed--he and Martin were already in some weird sort of limbo, and Jonah Magnus’ presence being out in the open just made that limbo even tenser than before--but it was surreal, going about the same sort of half-formed daily routines, being more or less stuck in the safehouse with Martin, as if nothing had happened.

Jon did get his wish to sleep on the couch, at least. It wasn’t that uncomfortable, really, and he’d been right in predicting that he’d fit on it better than Martin had, his body only slightly scrunched where Martin’s feet had dangled off the couch entirely. A small victory, given the current stakes, but a victory nonetheless, and Jon would savor every one of those he could get.

Martin went for walks more often than he had before, too. Without Jon, naturally, so Jon got to pace around the safehouse for hours on end while Martin got to enjoy the serene beauty of the Highlands up close and personal. He probably needed the time to think, though, and Jon couldn’t begrudge him that. Jon just wished he had time to think like that, time when he was truly alone, when he didn’t have to worry that focusing on a thought for too long would bring it to the attention of his bodily captor and potential world-ender.

Some of Martin’s walks were just for the sake of fresh air, exercise, something to do, but some were walks to the village to get any number of supplies needed to keep the house functioning, such as it was. (The house was a little worn down, a bit of a fixer-upper, but then, Jon supposed that the same could well be said about the people living there currently as well.)

It was while Martin was on one of those longer walks to the village that Jon started wondering, absentmindedly, what it was like out there, what Martin was up to without him... in another world, where things had gone ever so slightly differently, perhaps Jon would be there by Martin’s side, but as it was he could barely even picture the village in his mind’s eye...

At least, Jon could barely picture it at first, but that changed soon enough. Suddenly, his mind filled with an image of the village, of Martin chatting at a checkout counter with an unfamiliar woman who must be one of the village’s residents. Jon couldn’t tell if what he saw was happening now or had happened on some prior visit--the lighting seemed off for it being today, but maybe it just wasn’t quite as gloomy down in the village as it was here in the cabin, or perhaps the clouds had cleared a bit since he last checked.

At any rate, Jon focused all his attention on this image, this vision that the Eye had granted him, tuning out the world around him in the process.

The woman, who had thick curls dyed a bright and unnatural color, looked at Martin quizzically. “I hope you’re not all on your lonesome out here, dearie. Even a small space can seem awful empty if you’ve got no one to share it with--I learned that one from experience.” She half-exhaled, half-sighed at the end of her speech, a hint that there was some greater story there, some tale of old woe that this woman--the cashier, was she?--had lived through some time ago.

Martin, for his part, didn’t follow up on the hint. “Oh, no need to worry about me, I’ve got company. I’m actually living with my- my boyfriend.” He tripped over the word a bit, but not unduly so, not any more than Jon had back when he’d been dating someone who fit the bill.

Jon watched the cashier’s expression closely after Martin finished speaking, sparing only a brief glance at Martin’s own wide-eyed stare, but the woman didn’t seem too bothered by the idea. “Oh? What’s his name? I don’t think I’ve seen him around.”

“His name’s John.” Jon wasn’t sure how, given that the two words were homonyms, but somehow he could hear the extra H in Martin’s voice, could hear him misspell the name despite it being pronounced the same. At first he almost thought he was imagining it, reading too much into it, but-

“Or Johnny, sometimes? Though that’s mostly just- just the two of us, he doesn’t like strangers calling him that much. He’s a bit shy, you see.”

Jon had never gone by Johnny. Jon had barely ever gone by Jonny, a brief escapade in music and rebellion during uni aside, and Martin had no way of knowing about that, no reason to call Jon by such a nickname. He was just mixing fact and fiction, using a bit of the truth to give the villagers (because Jon knew that such gossip was bound to spread further than one curious cashier) a false but believable idea of what was going on in that cabin far away.

God, Martin was good at this, and Jon loved him all the more for it.

“Like attracts like, I suppose.” The cashier winked at Martin, an action which made Jon notice for the first time her colorful eyeshadow.

“You’re not wrong there.” A bark of a laugh, one that might have sounded genuine to someone who didn’t know what Martin laughing from the heart sounded like. “But he’s even shier than me, I swear. Can’t blame him, really--he’s been through a lot lately, got a few bad scars back in the city, I think he’s worried people would look at him funny around here...”

“Well, I for one would love to meet him. Tell that John to come down to the village with you next time, alright?” Another exaggerated wink.

“...I’ll try, Margie, but no promises. He’s a stubborn one, that one.”

“Men always are, aren’t they? Present company excepted, of course.”

“Of course.” Martin laughed along with the cashier, but his laughter sounded a little forced, a little strained, at least to Jon’s attentive ears.

Jon’s mind was racing as the vision ended, as he was unceremoniously returned to his captivity in the cabin, though he couldn’t entirely explain why. Martin had told a falsehood to paint a prettier and less complicated picture for others about what was going on here, that was all.

And yet... Jon couldn’t help but imagine what might have been, if things had been different. Jon couldn’t help but think over that conversation and wish that it had all been true.

Jon wanted nothing more than to be Martin’s boyfriend, on some sort of impromptu vacation in the Highlands with his beloved, with the worst of his worries being what those living in the nearby village would think if they saw his scars. 

But life was never that simple, was it?

[the-bromance-rec-blog]

This drama is pure gold and I’m obsessed.

It is completely, absolutely beyond my comprehension that this isn’t more popular. Apart from being an amazing show by itself, it checks off every single tick on my personal requirements for a perfect bromance show. God Gracious.

Folks, really, if you are in for some angsty, intense, mesmerising, and above all, i’ll-sacrifice-my-life-for-you sort of bromance, do yourself a favour and watch this.

The Guest (K-Drama)

Genre: Mystery, Thriller, Detective, Supernatural, Horror/Exorcism, Drama

Synopsis (taken & modified from MyDramaList):

Twenty years ago, Yoon Hwa Pyung, a young psychic born into a shaman family, learns about a powerful demon called "Son" (Guest). The demon has the power to control other demons and allow them to possess weak people. The possessed people then go mad, kill their families, and stab themselves in the eye. Hwa Pyung, Choi Yoon - a young boy born in a religious Catholic family, and Kang Kil Yeong - the daughter of a detective, fatefully meet when their families get interwined in the killing spree of this mysterious demon.

Twenty years later, the demon killings starts again. Hwa Pyung is now a taxi driver who uses his power to seek out possessed people in order to help them, Yoon is a Catholic priest who is talented in exorcism, and Kil Yeong is a detective who doesn't believe in ghosts. The trio meets again and tries to work together to defeat "Son".

Length: Complete - 16 episodes, 70 minutes each

Personal review:

+ The bromance.

+ The bromance.

+ The bromance. Yeah, I think you get my point by now...

This is the kind of bromance that I’m always begging to see in every fictional material I consume. Chemistry that grows naturally and believably - checked; Characters going through life-and-death situations together - checked; A duo consisting of one that is calm & reserved and the other hot-tempered & reckless - checked; Protective of each other from beginning till end - checked.

I’ve been a fangirl for a long time now - the amount of fiction with bromance that I have seen would not be below the 100s range. And I can confidently tell you: the male leads’ chemistry in this show easily makes it to my top 3. I mean, when was the last time you saw two characters literally racing against each other to see who could die for the other person first?

And have I told you about that ‘underwater’ scene in the finale? Beautiful is an understatement. Period.

Introducing the one underwater scene that tops all underwater scenes ever known to humankind.

+ These are the 3 words I’ll use to describe the story: Captivating, haunting and solid. The Guest had me rewatch the whole thing (with better definition and better sound system!) immediately after I finish it the first time, no joke. Packed with great plot twists and a praise-worthy mystery, the show effectively uses this whodunit formula to have you keep guessing “who is the real villain?”. Also, it would be easier to appreciate it if you don’t mind horror and some minimal, ‘well-censored’ gore. After all, this is a show about exorcism.

+ The cast: The main cast is a trio of a taxi driver, an exorcist priest and a police officer (this combo somehow sounds like it comes from a fanfic...) who are closely connected to each other through a tragic encounter. Let me guess what you are thinking: “There is a lady in the poster so one (or both) of the male leads gotta fall in love with her and mess up the plot with their cheesy romance!”. I am here to assure you: There is zero romance in this show. Among the trio is pure teamwork to defeat a common enemy. There chemistry is just brilliant and oh-so-naturally developed.

Trust me also when I say this: I freakin’ love the female lead, as much as I do the male leads. She is strong, hard-headed and a total badass. As impossible as it may sound, her role in the team is to protect (yes, she protects the 2 male leads lol) and to mediate the guys whenever they quarrel (which is all the time, by the way (￣��￣)). Take my words: You don’t come across a female lead like this everyday. This is rarest of the rare.

I’d also like to take this chance to declare my adoration for Kim Jae Wook who took on the role of our ultra-cold-on-the-outside, super-sweet-on-the-inside priest. Sir Priest, you are too handsome to be real and your legs are unworldly. Are you sure you didn’t pop out from some shoujo manga?

I’m totally not sorry it took you a long time to scroll past his ridiculously long legs...

Once again, Korea does their wonders with their casting choices. Every single actor and actress - main and supporting - does their job remarkably and adds so much life to the story. Bravo, just bravo.

+ The filmography: Surreal lighting, gorgeous angles, excellent colour palettes. 11/10 score - I rest my case.

- Negative point? What negative? I’ve met a Korean drama that completely engulfed my heart and soul - what makes you think I have anything bad to say about it?

Very important advice: If you are giving this a go-ahead, watch it in the highest definition you can possibly afford to. You’ll thank me later.

[blackhakumen]

Mini Fanfic #532: Mario and Friends React to Them Acting Crazy in Strikers Charged (SSBU)

Mario

Mario: (Starts Growling in Anger..... Only to Calm Himself Down by Taking a Few Deep Breaths on Screen)

Samus: (Turns to Mario) You seem to calmed yourself down pretty quickly there.

Fox: Yeah. To be honest, I was kind of expecting you get a bit more mad there, Mario.

Mario: (Chuckles Lightly While Rubbing the Back of his Head Back and Forth) Well, you see, Peach was the one who actually taught me to deep breaths exercises. Especially in sports games.

Samus: (Genuinely Surprised) Really?

Peach: (Smiles Brightly) That's right! I wanna make sure my handsome knight in shining armor doesn't get himself stressed out too easily.

Mario: (Smiles Brightly) I was meaning to thank you for that, Peach. I really think this exercise is working pretty good so far.

Peach: (Hugs Mario's Arm with an Heartwarming Smile) You don't need to thank me for that, dear~ You know full well that your health and happiness are the two things that are most important to me, right?~

Mario: (Kiss the top of Peach's Forehead) Of course, dear~

Luigi

Luigi: (Grits his Teeth in Anger Towards the Screen All While One of his Eyes Starts Twitching) I....am.... Luigi.......

Dedede: (Eyes Widened in Genuine Surprise) Damn, boy.....I never seen you get this pissed before...

Cloud: Neither does any of us. (Frowns a Little) Did someone say anything to you during the game that made you that upset?

Luigi: (Shrugged) Maybe? (Chuckles Lightly) Honestly, it's so been long since any of us been on that soccer field that I don't really remember quite a lot of what happened there. Other than growing big that one time-

Daisy: (Immediately Hugs Luigi)

Luigi: (Taken a bit Back By Daisy's Sudden Hug) D-Daisy?

Daisy: Luigi, you know that if there's anything that is bothering you.....(Looks Up to Luigi with a Sad and Nurturing Look on her Face) I'm always here to listen and help, right?

Mario: (Place his Hand on Luigi's Shoulder) So as Peach and I as well, bro.

Peach: (Nodded with a Worried Frown)

Tifa: (Frowns Worryingly Along with Everyone Else in the Living Room) And the rest of us too. We're always here for you whenever you need us, Luigi. That's a promise.

Dedede: That's right. And I'mma smack someone in the head with a mallet if anyone talk shit about you, boy! That's also a promise.

Luigi: Guys, you have nothing to worry about here. I mean, sure, maybe something did happened during the game that made me upset that day...a-and maybe I do have a few people looking down on me every now and then, but I promise you I'm perfectly okay now that I have all of you with me in my life.

Daisy: (Snuggles onto Luigi) We believe you, sweetie. We just wanted make extra sure that you're loved and appreciated here.

Luigi: (Smiles Softly) I know. I love you guys.

Daisy: (Gives Luigi a Loving Kiss on the Lips with a Smile) We love you too, Weegie~ So much~

Peach

Peach: (Starts Stomping Around in Anger Before Crying on Screen)

Bayonetta: Goodness. (Starts Smirking Playfully Towards Peach) I never realized our sweetheart of a princess became such a brat in this one~

Palutena: (Starts Snickering) I know, right? This almost seem so surreal yet so funny to watch.

Peach: (Facepalms While Blushing in Embarrassment) I was really hoping you all wouldn't see that.....

Samus: So.....(Starts Smirking Towards the Princess as Well) you mind giving us a rundown on what's happening on that screen?

Peach: ('Sigh') I was only trying to get into characteron the soccer field, okay?! (Crossed her Arms and Begins to Pout) I didn't want anyone to think of me as just an ordinary, boring princess. So I figured I act more like a drama queen of sorts.....I think it worked too well in my opinion.......

Fox: (Watches Peach Yelling at one of her Teammates Before Stomping Around Again on Screen) It definitely shows alright.....

Daisy

Daisy: Hot stuff! (Place Her Thumb on the Side of her Butt, Which Cause it to Sizzle) Yeah~

'Silence'

Cloud: (Eyes Widened in Complete Shock) Did we..... Seriously just watched that?

Tifa: (Eyes Widened) Yep......

Dedede: (Eyes Widened) Y'all, I'm having so many feelings on this right now it ain't even funny......

Samus: (Facepalm while Sighing) What the hell was that, Daisy?

Daisy: (Chuckles Awkwardly) Sorry you guys had to see that. I...uhh....really don't have a excuse for this one....

Luigi: You know......

Daisy: (Turns to Luigi) Hm?

Luigi: I...for one....(Starts Blushing while Smiling a Little) Adore your "Hot Stuff", dear.

Daisy: (Stares at Luigi for a Couple of Seconds Before Giving him a Seductive Smirk) Oho~ You do now, huh?~

Luigi: Yeah. (Starts Smirking a Little as Well) I always have~

Daisy: You know.....(Seductively Sat On Luigi's Lap) I wouldn't mind giving you that "Hot Stuff" right now if you like, my sweet, handsome Weegie~ (Ruffles the top of Luigi's Hair)

Luigi: (Chuckles Lightly) I would love that very much, my strong, beautiful princess-

Mario/Peach: NO SEXY TIME IN THE LIVING ROOM!!!!!!

Daisy: (Glares Back at Mario and Peach) Ah what?!!

Luigi: (Glares at Mario and Peach as Well) Ah come on, you guys!! Why can't you just-

Mario: (Giving Luigi a Hard Piercing Glare) Luigi........

Peach: (Giving Daisy a Hard Piercing Glare as Well) Daisy.........

Luigi: ('Sighs in Defeat') Okay.......

Daisy: (Sighs Loudly While Getting Off of Luigi's Lap) Fiiiiiiiiiine......(Resume Back to Snuggling with her Man) But we're still cuddling!!!

Luigi: Yeah!

Yoshi

Yoshi: (Starts Yelling in a Somewhat Gibberish Language on Screen)

Cloud: Does anyone has any idea what he's saying here?

Samus: Nope.

Fox: No clue.

Dedede: That would be a "no" for me, boy.

Daisy: (Noticed Yoshi Making his Way to the Front Door) Hey! Sweetie!

Yoshi: (Turns to Daisy) Yeah, mom?

Daisy: (Points at the TV) Do you have any idea what you were saying here?

Yoshi: (Turns to the TV and sees Himself Yelling and Grumbling in Literal Gibberish) Uhh....I guess it stands for "We'll beat you next time"? (Shrugged) I dunno.....

Daisy: Thanks, sweetie!

Yoshi: (Opens the Front Door and Walk Outside) You're welcome.

'Door Close'

Daisy: (Turns Back to Everyone Else in the Living Room) What do you guys think? Seems accurate enough?

Samus: (Shrugged) Eh. It'll do.

Donkey Kong

DK: (Begins to Whimper in Sadness and Fear as He Starts Running Away on Screen)

Tifa: (Immediately Starts Feeling Bad for Donkey Kong) Awwwww.... Poor DK......I wish I could give him a hug and tell him everything will be okay.....

Cloud: (Shrugged) Eh. I'm sure he'll be fine. He is Donkey Kong after all.

Tifa: True.....But I still can't help but feel a little bad.

Cloud: (Smiles a Little) You know, Tifa, this is what I love about you the most. (Kiss the top of Tifa's Forehead) You're always nice and caring towards other.

Tifa: (Smiles Softly as She Snuggle Onto Cloud) That's what I love about you too, Cloud~

Cloud: (Chuckle Lightly) Come on now. I'm not that nice.

Tifa: (Pouts at Cloud While Cuddling with Him) Don't try to deny it with me, mister. You are good boi and a sweetheart too!~

Cloud: (Sighs while Smiling a Little) Yeah, yeah. I know.

Diddy Kong

Diddy: (Happily Cartwheels on Screen)

Dedede: You know, I've been noticing something.....

Fox: (Raised an Eyebrow) Like what?

Dedede: Diddy's theme song. It sounds psychedelic.

Fox: (Starts Hearing Diddy Kong's Theme Song on Screen) Huh. You're right. I wonder why he chose that style music....I always thought he was more into hip-hop if anything.

Dedede: (Shrugged) Maybe he was trying to be psychic.

Fox: Maybe.....

Wario

Wario: (Holds a Bob-Omb on Screen....) I give up.....(Which Explodes on his Face)

'Silence'

Dedede: (Eyes and Mouth Open Widen in Complete Shock) Did....Did that boy just took a Bob-Omb to the face? Over just a soccer game?!

Samus: I know, right? The crazy thing about it is that their soccer game isn't even over yet.

Luigi: It's true......This all happened in the first half of the game.

Dedede: Man, WHAT THE FUCK-

Waluigi

Waluigi: (Does a Dance Alongside his Teammates on Screen) Wa-Lu-igi! Yeah, yeah, yeah!!!

Cloud: The hell kind of dance is that?

Peach: It's the "Waluigi Dance".

Samus: (Raised an Eyebrow) The Waluigi Dance?.....

Luigi: Yep. It was actually well known at the time.......it only lasted in a couple of weeks though.

Fox: Never thought I would see the day that Waluigi invented an actual dance craze before....

Peach: Well, in all fairness, some of us have seen him dance before. (Smiles Softly) I for think he's a decent dancer.

Waluigi: CHEESE! (Punches the Camera on Screen)

Dedede: Well, goddamn, Waluigi! Where the hell was all of that anger when you didn't get invited to the tournament?!

Palutena: (Shrugged) I guess some people don't have that same kind of energy anymore.

Everyone: (Nodded in Agreement) Yeah.

Bowser

Bowser: (Fiddling his Sharpen Claws Together while Laughing Evilly on Screen)

Tifa: I wonder where Bowser get those sharp claws from.....

Samus: He probably made them in scratch.

Tifa: ..........(Shrugged) Yeah. I can believe that.

Bayonetta: (Glares at the Screen) Oh sure. He has ALL the time in the world to sharpen his claws....(Immediately Gets Even More Angrier) But when it comes to cleaning his own fucking mess, he does nothing but lay down, sleep, and let Palutena and I do ALL THE DAMN WORK!!!-

Palutena: (Immediately Gives Bayonetta a Nice Shoulder Massage) Easy there, girl. Calm down. You get worked up way too easy when it comes to us and Bowser. (Kisses Bayonetta's Cheeks Lovingly) Feeling better?

Bayonetta: (Smiles Softly and Relaxingly While Blushing) Much better~ (Turns Around and Gives Palutena a Loving Kiss on the Lips) Thank you, darling~

Palutena: (Smiles Softly) Anytime, dear~

Bowser Jr.

Bowser Jr: (Starts Acting A Lot More Confident and Cool on Screen)

Peach: Awwwwwwwwwww~ He's so adorable when he has confidence in himself.

Mario: (Chuckles Lightly) Yeah. Must've got it from his father.

Samus: Or one of his siblings.

Peach: (Giggles Softly) Maybe.

Petey Piranha

Petey: (Starts Doing Limbo on Screen)

Palutena: You know..... Petey looks less scarier the more I see him like this.

Mario: (Smiles Brightly) That's right. We were able to convince him to have more fun and enjoy himself in sports games.

Petey: (Eats one of His Teammates Whole and Then Spits Him Out on Screen)

Mario: We couldn't stop him from eating people though.

Samus: Yeesh....

Reaction Over.....

Dedede: Man, Y'all are taking these sports into a whole new level of craziness

Fox: Yeah.....This might be the most insane one we've seen yet.

Peach: ('Sigh') Well, rest assured, this is definitely the last time we take any of these sports seriously. I think we've all finally grown past that phase by now.

Daisy: In other words: We're getting too old for this shit.

Luigi: Yep.

Cloud: Well I'm glad you guys are able to calm yourselves down in more sport titles. ('Scoffs') Could you imagine how things would be like if any of us acted like that?

Dedede: The town wouldn't live to see another day if we acted a fool like that.

Samus: Dark..... But pretty accurate assumption.

@keyenuta

@26shann

@cyber-wildcat

@ma-lemons

@albion-93

@chompycroc

@luigifan00001

@mariah2014

@italian-love-cake

[daydreamerlxnd]

3 Days of Bliss (a short story made by me)

So I wrote a short story, sadly it’s not a fanfic, I’m bad at those lol. One day I just woke up and decided to write this. English is not my first language so feel free to correct me if there’s any grammatical or spelling errors, I’m always ready to learn more <3

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

           Phoebe, a brilliant name for a radiant person. A good friend of mine. We are on a road trip to a place that Phoebe will love for sure. I made an appointment with an artist. I decided to bring her to the artist's workshop and make some art. Phoebe has been a big fan of art for a long time, as far as I remember she always has been passionate about creating and learning about art since she was a child. My car moves swiftly across the highway towards our destination meanwhile Phoebe just spacing out into the road. We are enjoying each other's company and silence as all friends would do. About half an hour, we arrive at the place that we're supposed to make art for today. The town looks peaceful, almost like there's no trace of humanity compared to the workshop on the other side looks welcoming and humble.

                    As soon as we enter, a man around our age greets us with a smile on his face. He has long and wavy brunette hair that tied back messily. He is the true embodiment of an artist. The shirt he is wearing is smudged by the paints though it is hidden by the apron. He is lanky although there might be a little bit of muscle hidden behind the shirt, perhaps by carrying all of the art equipment. The building is quite empty but fills with various artworks along with the paints, canvas and brushes. At the centre of the room, something catches my eyes. A large glass platform is placed on the floor. The artist introduces himself as Kyle then tells us to change into the outfit he prepares. He says he is going to teach us to make art using our body parts. Kyle dips his hands in the paint while encouraging Phoebe to do the same. Phoebe hesitates to do so at first, but after watching Kyle spontaneously paint the glass platform using his hands, she starts to do it too. Kyle decides to turn on the music simultaneously doing their masterpiece while I just watch and take pictures of them. I already agree to be the cameraman throughout these three days' trip. Phoebe starts to use her feet to paint. She's suddenly dancing around the platform, each of her steps matches the beat of the song. Her pace is light. Almost seems like she's floating. Kyle and I are mesmerized by her, she shines like the sun on the crack of dawn. Before I even get to take more pictures of her, Phoebe drags me on the platform. We dance together along with Kyle, making art just by our footsteps.

            We decide to take a tea break. Three of us are drinking tea while making small conversations to spare our time. While we're talking, I can't help but notice that Kyle never takes his eyes off Phoebe. As someone who is also a man, it kind of bothers me the way he looks at her though I try not to think of it that much. After that, we continue to work on the piece. The artwork actually turns out great! I had never usually held any significant adoration for art until today. Others might think our artwork is just a mixture of paints without any particular pattern or reference. However, art is not all about beautiful sceneries and portraits. It's about the meaning and emotion we put in it. Take the case of Starry Night by Van Gough. Even though he was the one who made it, he thinks of it as a failure though now almost everyone knows and praises his art. Besides, people find his story and the meaning behind all of his art pieces mesmerizing and eye-opening. Both of us thank Kyle for his guidance and willingness to help us throughout the class, he even takes the chance to give Phoebe his number in case we want to meet up again. After saying goodbye to Kyle, we check in to our hotel to rest and prepare for the next day.

            I hear knocking on my door early in the morning, waking me up from my deep slumber. It must be Phoebe, she's an early riser after all. Phoebe seems enthusiastic about today's activity. She gobbles up her breakfast while I remind her to drink water, worried that she might choke on her food. Not too far from here, there is a music class that we will visit soon. Phoebe wants to learn to play a musical instrument ever since she saw me playing the piano once. We meet a Chinese woman in her 50s soon after we arrive at the class. She has a bright smile, friendly and sweet too. There are multiple instruments placed in the room, Phoebe obviously impatient to play all of them. I thought she wanted to play the piano though she reaches the violin at the corner of the room instead. The madam proceeds to teach her the right position to hold the violin while I do my usual task. I try to find appropriate lighting to take their pictures, most of it turns out great because of the madam's cooperation. Phoebe also looks natural while playing the violin, she always has been quick-witted. Phoebe exclaims to the madam that I'm really good at playing the piano. I am flustered when the madam requests me to play it though I do not dare to refuse someone's wish. It's been a while since I played the piano, I sit on the chair with caution. I touch the white tiles lightly, almost scared that it might break. Melancholy piano keys echoing in the air, the sound greets my ears like a bittersweet reunion of two soulmates who weren't meant to be. Phoebe sneakily takes a picture of me, making me stop from continuing to play the piano. Both of them give me an ovation even though I don't think I deserve it. I'm sure that they're just being kind to me. "I really want to be good at playing the violin now. It will be nice if I can do a duet together with Neil" says Phoebe in a child-like manner. The madam agrees while I'm flattered by their praises. Phoebe starts to become more persistent in practising after that. A duet with Phoebe as a pianist and violinist sounds surreal, kind of romantic may I say.

            It's the last day of our trip. Today we're going to do some photoshoots, as always Phoebe will be the model. We check out from the hotel at 5 am in the morning and drive straight to the destination. It's kind of rough travel because we need to climb the mountain near the town before the sunrise ends. On top of the mount, there are lots of wind turbines that make you wonder how far our technology has developed. The scenery is breath-taking, the greenery soothes my eyes, what's more, my lungs are filled with fresh morning air. It is a wise decision to pick this place as our photoshoot's venue after all. This is also the reason why I choose to be a full-time cameraman instead of a professional pianist. I always have been passionate about photographs more than playing the piano. Phoebe looks beautiful today, she's wearing a white dress that really compliments her ocean eyes. She's stunned by the sun slowly rising up on the horizon. A lot of pictures are taken during the time, she doesn't even need to pose that much. "Neil, dance with me." She whispers while looking at me with adoration in her eyes. I take her hands, leisurely melts away in her gaze. As if all of our concerns are gone like it's actually an ordinary voyage between two soulmates. Phoebe suddenly bends over, she starts to lose her composure. I hold both of her arms, trying to get her to her feet again. No one can ever imagine someone who is as strong as Phoebe is in pain. She's been sick for a long time now. Instead of getting further treatment, she decides to spend her last remaining days with me. She wants to learn and does things that she always wanted to do since forever. There are a lot of activities that she wishes she could do. In the end, we decided to decrease it into three activities only. The trip is going great, she keeps glowing throughout our journey. Every picture I take throughout our journey is magnificent. She reminds me of the star at the centre of the Solar system. The sun that peeks through the clouds during one of those gloomy rainy days. She never fails to bring lights in one's self. Although, her eyes can't hide the fact that she's slowly dying. The trip back to our hometown feels sombre though Phoebe never let her smile wear down until the end.

            I didn't come to her funeral today. Instead, I just lock myself in my bedroom accompanied by the dusty piano. I only play it once in a blue moon though I drag the cover on top of it revealing an old yet still sturdy piano. The dust flies around the room. This might help to distract me from the loss of a person very dear to me. I start with a delicate movement though it gradually turns into a desperate for melody of someone who refuses to let go. My slim fingers dance across the white tiles with fury, longing and regret. She was bedridden as soon as we got home. I knew that her body couldn't handle it, it might be risky yet she was still eager to go on with the trip. I should have stopped her, I had the chance but I lost it. I weep silently, the white tiles are drenched by my tears. The way she shines in my eyes, the way every single of her gesture makes my heart flutters. I was in love with her. I was in love with the sun that was no longer here. The rain pours down from the sky as if it's also grieving with me. I stop playing though the rain never stops. The sun is nowhere to be found either.

[thanks-captain-obvious]

Hi pips! I'm back but this time with a long-ass fanfic as my contribution for Jasonette July! So buckle up buttercups 😉

100 Days With You

Chapter 1 • Coming Soon

July 01, 2020

Wednesday

Gotham, USA

Day 0

The sunlight draped over his room, casting it in an almost surreal effect. Jason groaned and rolled over on his bed, refusing to face the day as of yet. He was simply too tired after an eventful night from his... extracurricular activities, so to speak.

After a long month of absence from all the villains not just in Gotham but that of the whole of America, they finally broke their silence and at the same time, all evil figures in America, big or small, attacked in the same time. It is bad enough that Dick had to actually asked Cass to come back from Hongkong to back him up in Blüdhaven. Hell, even Superman had made a pact with Luthor himself just to ward off the villains in Metropolis.

Gotham didn't fair much better. Even with the help of Rogues, for one minute there, Jason thought that they would really lose. For some reason, the villains retreated without so much as a word. Even the Joker himself seemed to follow this pattern surprisingly and it made Batman tensed even more.

So to his apartment he go, only going so far as to strip his jacket and helmet before plopping himself to bed.

He had a feeling something big is going to happen, he just isn't sure what is.

After his musings, he decided to get up from his bed and check back on the residents of the Manor. While he may not have lived there now, he still cared about its inhabitants even though he won't say it on their face. Besides, he needs to go see what plan will Batman come up to counter attack the villains.

Not that Jason intends to follow him, anyway.

So after a quick shower and throwing a crisp, clean shirt over his head, he drove in the direction of the Wayne Manor, blissfully unaware of the events that will fucked him up even more than his death.

As Batman had informed them earlier in the day at the Cave, someone had somehow managed to take reign on the villains to organize them to give a strategic attack such as last night. The Justice League had been quick to dispatch heroes from other continent to help America and discussed tactics. Jason thinks its futile because whoever had planned this had a month-long ahead of planning from them and they should just go with the flow.

Which brings him back to now, in the middle of the fight with Scarecrow. Off to his side, he saw Batman fighting with Joker and Robin fighting Two-Face while Red Robin is trying his best to ward off Riddler.

While the Batfam is fighting the major villains, the Rogues is handling all the goons fair enough. Mr. Freeze is nowhere to be seen which made his hairs stood on edge. Red Hood clearly remembers Mr. Freeze joining the fight last night.

Just what the hell they are planning?

Apparently, the split second tension from him is enough for Scarecrow to land one good hit on his abdomen.

He's fucked.

In his periphery, he saw Scarecrow stood over him to release the fear toxin in his face. He laughed because helmet, duh.

Red Hood rolled over and dusted himself, but goons had jumped over him and he quickly lose his balance and really isn't that just fucking grand because he happens to be on a side of the building.

Fight as he might, he still stumbled over to the edge and even as he saw Red Robin tried to get to him, Red Hood knew Tim wouldn't make it in time and fuck, it's not like its his first rodeo anyway.

Falling, he closed his eyes and braced for the impact as his body slammed the grounds.

He couldn't help but thought as the darkness surround him that at least this time around the pain is quick as the shock passed throughout his body.

The next time he opened his eyes, it was in a quick burst of light and to the smell of alcohol. A loud crying of a baby is heard in the background but he couldn't care less because his head aches and what the fucking fuck where is he?

Did he somehow got revived again? Can't he just stay dead, please?

"Oh my, its a bouncing baby boy!"

A voice seemed to declare from somewhere.

"Quick, what do you want to name him dear?"

A male chirped up in excitement. Jason couldn't comprehend the muffled reply to the question but thankfully, the male voice is loud enough for him to catch the other half of the conversation.

"Jason sounds wonderful dear."

—

And there you have it! Let me know if you'd like more or you have any questions.

I have the second chapter draft already but I'm not quite satisfied with it so it may take a while for me to post it!

See you next time!

Here • Next (Coming Soon)

[consumedkings-archive]

ancient names, pt. xii

A John Seed/Original Female Character Fanfic

Ancient Names, pt xii: splinters

Masterlink Post

Word Count: ~11.4k. (ash shut the fuck up challenge has been brutally failed)

Rating: M for now, rating will change in later chapters as things develop. Tiny tiny TINY hint of something more explicit for like one second if you blink.

Warnings: uhhhhhhh descrips of an anxiety attack, Elliot turns feral like 2x, Joseph is V creepy (what's new--so I guess like, some Joseph/Deputy if you squint again), brief allusions to assault, also some very very very VERY minor steaminess mentioned but it's like just John being himself inside his own brain so. Yeah.

Notes: "what do you MEAN you're closer to your best friend and actual working partner than me, the guy who tried to drown you like a week ago" - @starcrier​, impersonating john seed

I don't want to sound like a broken record but I mean it when I say: THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU! This chapter is 11k words long and I don't have anything to say for myself, I just want y'all to know it wouldn't have happened without y'all (which you know by now).

I've been staring at this chapter for like 3 days so I'm gonna keep this short but. I hope you enjoy! Everyone say thank you to @starcrier for proofreading this hot mess and then we can move on to wishing John and Elliot would just bang it out already.

“So what the hell was that?”

Elliot didn’t particularly want to think about it, and she especially didn’t want to discuss the nature of her last John Seed Interaction with Joey. She knew how that was going to go—and even if she didn’t, she’d hardly figured out the whole thing herself. She didn’t think her heart had stopped hammering even after he’d left.

I told you, there’s just the one. This one, El, me.

Boomer’s cold nose pressing against her chin pulled her mind away from the feeling of John’s fingers in her hair, his arm slid around her waist, his mouth on hers, the faded scent of his cologne washing over her. Already she felt the heat crawling back into her face and she swallowed thickly, closing her eyes as she planted a kiss on the side of Boomer’s face.

“It wasn’t anything,” Elliot said, before she could think too much on how the lie coming out of her mouth made her feel. She’d never lied to Joey—not about anything, not about her ex-boyfriend or her mama or anything —but it felt like a losing game to be honest about what had happened, especially before she’d even figured out how she felt about it.

“Didn’t look like nothing,” Joey replied, sitting on the edge of one of the beds. “And you’re doing that thing you do when you’re trying to lie.”

“It was nothing, ” Elliot insisted. There was no heat in the words. She pulled Boomer into her lap and rubbed his belly, watching the Heeler loll his head dreamily against the affection. The blush was starting to fade from her face now, and in its place was the stabilizing familiarity of the hound.

Joey watched her for a moment before she said, “Crazy that Boomer didn’t rip John’s throat out.”

Deciding against answering—because the answer would almost certainly sound like she was defending John , which she did not want to follow up whatever it was that had just happened—Elliot instead pressed her cheek to Boomer’s and shrugged.

John kissed me, something in her mind said, furiously rebellious, and I kissed him back. Fuck fuck fuck.

“El,” Joey said quiet, “we have to get out of here.”

“Yeah,” Elliot agreed. “We will. We can hitch it Fall’s End, you think? And get... Supplies, and a car, and...”

Her voice trailed off. The idea of walking all the way to Fall’s End from the compound, unarmed—because the Seeds would certainly not give them arms if they could help it—exhausted her. While the drugs that the Family had pumped into her were mostly out of her system by now, save the occasional faint wobble in the corner of her vision, her body still ached; her lungs still strained to fight off the sickness she’d gotten just days ago, which had been blissfully tamped down from her senses while she was high but was now back in full force.

“But it’s dangerous,” she added after a moment. “With the—the others still out there. I thought if Ase died it would be the end of them, but—”

“The big one.” Joey’s voice was a quiet agreement. “He’s going to be mad. I thought I heard him last night, when we were getting out of there, after John and Jacob brought you back down.”

Another quiet pause stretched between them. Elliot couldn’t help but think back to what John had said: that he hadn’t shot Ase that second time, but Jacob had. She couldn’t remember for the life of her if John had been holding the shotgun or not when they got down the slope. She couldn’t remember if she saw Jacob with a shotgun. She couldn’t remember much from that night, anyway, besides the dread that had flooded her body when Ase had made her look into the woods, and the strike of the woman’s viscera against her face when she’d been finished off.

Sleep had not come easily to Elliot, in the last twelve hours, and she didn’t imagine that it would any time soon. Her life had become one exhausting blur of blood and panic, with only the occasional respite of quiet, and Elliot felt deep in the marrow of her bones that pattern wasn’t going to be changing any time soon.

“Let’s just take advantage of the quiet while we can,” she suggested after a moment, rubbing her eyes tiredly. Already she wanted another cigarette, the gentle rattle of her lungs on every intake of breath told her to rethink that urge. Joey made a low noise of agreement.

The brunette slid off of her seat on the bed, scooting over until they were next to each other and she could give Boomer’s belly a steady pat. Elliot rested her cheek against Joey’s shoulder. She sighed.

“You think those Seeds are plotting something?”

“I think they never stopped,” Joey replied tiredly. “Not for one second.”

Elliot made a soft noise of agreement. She wanted to ask her what she remembered of the night before—if John was being honest when he said Jacob had delivered that second blow, if she thought that it even mattered who had done it.

It does matter, she thought tiredly. It matters to me.

“We’ll lay low for a few days,” she murmured. “Get back on our feet, and let them think.... Whatever they want to think. And just keep our wits about us until we can get to Fall’s End. Maybe one of us should stay, in case someone tries to call for us.” She closed her eyes, and for a moment, Elliot could almost pretend things were normal; it wouldn’t be crazy to think that maybe this was all just a bad, horrible dream.

But she couldn’t have dreamed up the way John had kissed her—one hand in her hair, the other gripping her hip, like he was hungry. Hungry for her . She had always wanted that, she thought; for someone to be starved for her. How did he know? How did he always know what she was weak to?

“And then we’ll get out of here,” Joey said, her voice soft and tired, too. Elliot couldn’t imagine how tired she was, after it all.

“Yeah,” Elliot replied. She steeled her voice, but her eyes stayed closed. “Then we get the fuck out of here.”

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The best sleep she’d gotten in days was on a bed in the Eden’s Gate compound, Boomer tucked into her side. It was only an hour or two—certainly not the full night that she needed—but when she woke up she was already feeling better.

Better, and more aware of what had transpired.

She’d yelled at John about shooting Ase, and John had said that was Jacob, and there was no way to affirmatively know that he was telling the truth short of taking his word on it, and if there was one person who she didn’t trust the word of, it was John Seed.

Well, maybe Joseph less than him, she reasoned absently, rinsing her mouth with water that wasn’t contaminated with drugs in the bathroom, splashing it onto her face. Then John, then Faith, then Jacob.

She tried not to think about how troubling it was to consider Jacob the more straight-forward of the Seed siblings, even more so than Faith, but while Elliot felt desperately like she wanted to protect the girl—she knew that was the point. Joseph wouldn’t have picked Faith if she was truly as pure as she liked to put on.

Boomer buffed in the main room of the cabin, nails clicking on the wood flooring. Elliot dried her face and headed out the front door to see what he was fussing about; Joey still slept quietly, probably glad to sleep without drugs weighing her system down and an immediate threat—well, immediately beyond the Seeds—hanging over her.

“Stay,” she murmured. “Stay with Joey, Boomer.”

The Heeler whined, low and exceptionally pathetic, before crouching low to the floor and settling. She closed the cabin door behind her and wiped her hands absently on the front of her jeans, gaze flickering across the yard. Joseph had apparently gathered the members of Eden’s Gate from hiding and they now milled about, heads turning wherever she went, hostile but controlled. For now. It wasn’t unlike the first time that Elliot had walked into the compound with Burke and Whitehorse, as she moved across the yard to the chapel; almost surreal, the world fizzing around her in a white-static as she remembered the way it felt to have Joseph look at her and say, and Hell followed with him.

Dreadful.

Fall was now in full swing, which meant that though the sky was clear, the afternoon had a bite to it that was trying to work its way under her clothes and into the marrow of her bones. From the side of the church, she could see the treeline of the woods that surrounded the compound; against her better judgment, Elliot stopped at the chainlink fence and stared.

The monster in the woods that she’d seen last night still stuck to her—wadded up somewhere right in the hollow of her jaw, locking her mouth shut from being able to talk about it. It wasn’t like she’d know what to say if she could talk about it, anyway; I saw something big, and scary, and it was in the woods and it knows me. What would it matter? It had just been the drugs, anyway. A madness shared by a group of people, seeing what they wanted to see, melding with the things that Elliot hated the most.

Seeing herself, hearing herself, and not recognizing who she was anymore.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

She didn’t have to turn around to know who it was; the slick, rich timbre of Joseph’s voice rattled through her, straight down to the marrow of her bones. If I could have only gotten a good look at it, something in her said, like the monster had been real, like something really was out there trying to slide under her skin.

“Joey and I are leaving,” Elliot said, by way of response; she could feel Joseph’s eyes on her, his footsteps against the packed dirt hitting soft behind her before she saw him stop just in her peripheral. “As soon as I can get to Fall’s End, we’re leaving.”

Joseph was quiet for a moment. And then he said, “You seem troubled, deputy.”

“Well, I did get fucking drugged out of my mind,” she snapped.

“You’ve seemed troubled for a while,” he replied. “Prior to the Family, to all of this.” He gestured vaguely at the compound, absently adjusting the yellow-tinted glasses on his face. Not once did he look at her, pin her with those eyes, but rather kept his gaze focused on the forest where she’d been looking. “I saw you before, Elliot. Before you were even a junior deputy. You were different, then.”

It shouldn’t have felt like a violation to know that Joseph had seen her, known of her, before all of this—but it did. It felt like a violation because she had no way of controlling it. Joseph may as well have flipped through an old yearbook and read all of the things friends had written to her, or pried open her diary.

Elliot said, carefully and meticulously planting each word, “People change.” She was determined not to lose her temper with Joseph, not the same way that she did with John or Jacob—it made it difficult to feel justified, when the man was so hard to rattle as it was.

“People are changed,” Joseph corrected her in his easy cadence, “by the things around them.”

The pressure of her molars grinding together was beginning to make a headache bloom just behind her eyes. What the fuck does he know, she thought furiously, the idea that the person that she was today had been entirely out of her hands making her stomach wrench with something vicious. Joseph was full of shit, and he wore stupid sunglasses and preached hollow, empty words, so what did it matter?

It mattered a lot. It meant that she’d had no hand in who she was now, and that she wouldn’t be able to change it if she wanted to; as though, in the instance that she didn’t want to feel hungry and hurt and needing all the time, she wouldn’t be able to make it change herself. She’d have to wait.

“If I put you in a perfect, empty bubble of a room,” he continued, when she didn’t argue, “and left you there, would anything about you change?”

“You’re the last person I would take psychological observations as truth from,” she managed out after a moment, finally turning to look at him—and he did too, at the same time, like he was ready for it. Anticipating it. Knew that she would do it all along.

For a long moment, he didn’t say anything. He just watched her, his eyes glued to her own, and finally he said, “Elliot, it’s not uncommon in people who are abused to—”

The word abused rinsed her system like an ice bath. It catapulted her mind somewhere else, somewhere far, away, but the muscle memory pulled through anyway, spitting the words, “I’m not abused,” out of her mouth to overrun whatever psycho-babble bullshit Joseph was trying to tell her. She might have tried to swallow down the volume of her voice had it been anything else, anyone else, but she felt it shoot up with hysterical rage.

“Deputy—”

“I’m not.” And now she didn’t know if she was saying it for his sake or something else. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”

“I know that you have scars,” Joseph replied, his voice firmer now than before. And that dragged her head back, neurons firing off left and right. Red alert, they screamed, abort mission. “Scars that you don’t get from nothing. Scars that—”

“—need to stop fucking talking—”

“—only mean that you don’t become like this without—”

“Like what?”

He stopped. Something passed over his face, but only for a moment—not long enough for her to decipher what it was. Against her better judgement, she stayed where she was instead of walking away from him; perhaps it was a morbid curiosity, to know what it was that the great and mighty Joseph Seed thought she was afflicted with.

And then, with a soft, delicate kind of pity, Joseph placed his hands on her shoulders and said, “Hurting.”

This was all wrong. The pressure of Joseph’s hands on her shoulders did not quiet the roar in her head, did not bring her any kind of comfort. Nausea welled up inside of her like a black bile; her body wanted to purge it, a venom seeping from a wound. Vaguely, she was aware that she wished he’d said something else—anything else, anything other than hurting, anything that could give her the footing to be angry and furious and spit her poison at him.

But there was nothing.

“You don’t have to keep pushing it down,” he continued, his voice low and almost urgent. “Absolution isn’t out of your reach forever.”

“Shut—” Elliot sucked in a sharp breath; she reached up, but her arms felt like lead weights. “S-Shut the fuck up—”

“Elliot,” Joseph murmured, squeezing her shoulders, “you might be able to convince yourself that you’re fine, but I see you.”

Ase’s glassy eyes, her fingers twisted in Elliot’s. Sisters. Do you see?

“Aren’t you tired?” His voice, sliding under her skin, trying her on. He was the monster in the dark of the woods, humming as he lifted the edges of her skin and peeled them back. “Aren’t you so tired, Elliot, of all of this running? All of this anger?”

He was too close, now, his hands on her neck, cradling. Joseph leaned in and rumbled, just against her temple, “It must be so hard, living with it every day. I can help you rest.”

Her brain scrambled for a grip, anywhere; she was only vaguely aware of pushing Joseph’s hands off of her shoulders, that they met resistance for a moment before he gave way for her. Anything, anything but that, don’t fucking look at me, I didn’t say that you could, don’t fucking touch me.

She willed her feet forward. Away from the fence, away from Joseph, away from the church and around the back of one of the buildings.

“It’s not uncommon in survivors, Miss Honeysett. The nightmares , reliving the moment — it’ll get better. I promise.”

But she still felt his hands on her; not Joseph, but him, his hands grabbing her mouth and her hair, pinning her against the door, the taste of copper flooding her mouth when she sank her teeth down and ripped. She still felt the grip when she closed her eyes, and the doctor said it would go away and it would get better, but how long was she supposed to wait? How long was she supposed to feel like this?

I see, she thought frantically, the… The grass, and… I hear… I hear —

“I can see that you’re hurting. I’m only here to help; you just have to let me. I can help, Elliot.”

“Elliot,” John said, sounding surprised to see her come bolting around the corner. He leaned a little, to see where she had come from, and then looked back at her, reaching up. “Why are you breathing so hard? I thought I heard shouting. What’s—”

“Stop,” she bit out, grinding the words between her teeth before she let them out. “Don’t—”

“Okay,” he replied quickly. His hands hovered for a moment before dropping; his gaze drifted again, lingering behind her, before he returned his attention. “Okay, I won’t. Why don’t you sit down?”

I see you.

“No!” Elliot snapped, taking in a shaky breath. The adrenaline wouldn’t stop; not even with the distance between herself and Joseph, not even with John’s voice anchoring her to the ground. “No, I’m not fucking—sitting down. Take me to Fall’s End so I can get—so I can get out—so I can—so I—”

She didn’t think when she grabbed John’s arm to steady herself. Looking back on the moment later, she thought maybe it was a force of habit; he’d been around for a lot of moments like this. In the last few days, they’d gotten through a lot. And—

And he hadn’t had to come back for her if he didn’t want to. And he hadn't had to kiss her if he didn’t want to. He didn’t have to do any of those things, and he did them anyway, and somehow she only felt worse than before; it had been easier when she could hate him blindly.

“It’s supposed to storm tonight,” John said, and if he felt anything about the way she was gripping his arm he didn’t say. Something uneasy flickered in his face, and he added, “You should probably wait until tomorrow, deputy.”

“Fuck. Off,” Elliot said. “Take me to Fall’s End or—”

This seemed to reassure him that she was doing fine. John arched a brow at her loftily and said, his voice a light challenge, “Or what?”

“Hey, John? Hey?”

“Yes?”

“Fuck you?” It returned a bit of normalcy to see him roll his eyes. Her fingers wadded into his shirt sleeve, she said, “Or I’ll walk there myself.”

“You seem to think that relieving me of the burden of your constant verbal assault is a threat,” John deadpanned. “And besides, you’re in no position to be threatening me anyway . You’re the one who didn’t want Joey to know that we—”

Kissed.

“Sh—” The sharp sound coming out of her mouth was enough to stop John. She glanced over her shoulder; if there was one person she would hate more than Joey to find out about that, it was Joseph. Oh, he’d probably just be delighted . As she swallowed back the lump of anxiety in her throat, she said, more urgently now, “John.” Please, she wanted to say, but she wouldn’t.

He watched her for a long moment. She didn’t know how to tell him that if she spent a second longer with his human scalpel of a brother trying to peel her skin back she was going to lose it. She didn’t know how to say that even though she hated him—even though he’d kidnapped her best friend and teased her with that stupid commercial and considered the logistics of drowning her—in the last few days he’d been something close to reasonable, something, and she wanted desperately to keep that streak going.

“Fine,” John said after a moment of deliberation. “But only you. Hudson would spend the entire time trying to eviscerate me, and I only just got you off that kick.”

Bad, Elliot’s gut said. But he was right. Joey would have never accepted help from one of the Seeds, and it was best if she stayed here to rest, anyway; she’d been through the worst of it. She could leave Boomer here to help ease her concern, and if someone tried to radio in—either the Resistance members or Burke—it would be better for Joey to make sure they didn’t get lied to.

“Fine,” Elliot repeated, swallowing thickly. “But—we go tonight. Like, right now.”

“Sure, boss.”

She dropped her hand from John’s arm and took in a deep breath, pushing the hair away from her face. When she looked back over her shoulder to where she’d fled from, Joseph was no longer standing there. She had the feeling that he’d been there for a while. Watching.

But she couldn’t think about it much, because John was turning and heading off, talking over his shoulder. “Tell your Hudson that we’re going, and we can head out.”

Yeah, Elliot thought. Easy enough.

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It did not, in fact, go over well.

Or, well, that’s what John could glean from what he heard from the outside of the bunkhouse. Hudson wasn’t pleased—but it was easy to see that it was because she didn’t want to have to say that she owed anything to them. In the long run, even John knew that this was the best option.

Well, the best option was probably not having Elliot do anything. 

“Hudson’s a problem,” Jacob said, arms crossed over his chest as John stood leaned up against the front of the truck. Absently, he swung the key ring around his finger.

“It’s fine.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be convincing Honeysett to stick around?” Jacob muttered. “Seems like giving them the resources to fuck off is the opposite of that.”

“What did you say to Joseph?” he asked, ignoring his older brother’s comment regarding what he was supposed to be doing or not doing. “Before I talked to him last night.”

Jacob slid his gaze to him. For a second, he didn’t say anything, like he was trying to parse out what exactly it was that John was asking him. Because it wasn’t just what did you say to Joseph, it was what did you two talk about, and he wasn’t sure he was going to get even close to the answer that he wanted.

“Just told him what you told me,” the redhead replied, uncrossing his arms and letting them drop to his side. “Burke’s gone. That’s a problem, too.” Another pause, and then: “Seems like we have a lot of problems around here as of late.”

John watched his eldest brother’s receding silhouette. What the fuck does that mean? He wanted to say, but there was no time—Jacob would almost certainly indulge him, and if he derailed Elliot’s plan anymore than it already was, he’d almost certainly get strangled. In the less-fun way.

The door to the bunkhouse opened, and Elliot came out with Hudson trailing close behind. Seeing the two of them together just reminded him, again, of the last time the three of them had been in the same space together. 

I don’t know which, Elliot had said, like there was a John she’d want to kiss, and she needed to find him.

“Are we going?” Her voice, brisk as it normally was, ripped him out of the memory as she reached to take the keys from his hand.

He lifted them just out of reach. “At your leisure,” John quipped, “my liege. ”

“Bring her back, alive and in one piece,” Hudson ground out. “I’m only staying in case the Resistance radios in, and to keep an eye on your stupid brothers. If I had my way—”

“I’d be dead, the Resistance would be flourishing, the cops would be flooding this place, yada yada.” John waved his hand absently. “A pleasure as always, Deputy Hudson.”

“Don’t instigate her,” Elliot sighed. “You sound like a fuckhead.”

“He is a fuckhead,” Joey bit out. “Elli, I’m serious—I can come. You don’t have to—”

And then, in what John thought could only be a surprising act of self-control, she stopped herself. She stopped herself and didn’t finish her sentence, and the moment stretched long and unspoken between the two of them.

More than ever, John felt like the intruder, the interloper. Where he had thought Hudson would need to get used to the tenuous and tentative teamwork he and Elliot had been building, it now felt painfully apparent that the person that was going to be on the outside was him.

“I know,” Elliot replied after a moment. “I know, and I’m—it’ll be okay, I’ll be back soon, okay?  John, I’m driving.”

“I don’t feel like dying.”

“You drive like an old man,” she quipped, and when he arched a brow at her as if to remind her that she’d never once experienced his driving, she said, “ probably, in comparison to me—”

“—right, yeah, the woman who drives like she’s on Monster Jam. I think I’ll pass on the adrenaline rush, but thank you.”

“ Fine, ” Elliot sighed. “You’re so annoying.”

He headed around the front of the truck. Elliot exchanged a few softer, quieter words that he couldn’t quite make out with Hudson and then slid into the seat next to him, buckling up and settling back against the seat with a sigh. As soon as they had pulled out of the compound, she seemed to visibly relax; whatever tension had been holding her shoulders so close to her face had fled.

“Do you want to play a game?” John asked conversationally, after they’d been on the road for about ten minutes; he anticipated her answer but asked anyway. Part because the silence made him uneasy, and part because there was a small chance she’d say yes.

“No.” And then, moving on the offensive: “Do you really believe it?” she asked, and when John waited for her to elaborate, she continued, “All of this—bullshit. That Joseph is saying about the end times, and—”

John cleared his throat. He’d figured this question would come up sooner or later. He’d just hoped to have had more time, first. “I believe in Joseph,” he said after a moment, skimming his hands along the steering wheel. “I always—Joseph has always had our best interests in mind. And he hasn’t been wrong , you know.”

“So far,” Elliot pointed out.

“Yeah, well, that’s still a pretty good record.” He could feel himself getting defensive. “I spent—our parents, they—”

And then the words stopped coming out. They halted in his throat, dragging, shredding inside of him. I spent my whole life waiting for something to say yes to.

“Anyway,” John continued after a moment, eyes grazing the incoming storm clouds, “I would do anything for my family.”

“Ah.” And that was all she said. For some reason, it really dug at him—didn’t she want to push and press, slam on his berserk button until he couldn’t stand it anymore? John let the silence stretch between them for a bit longer before he glanced over at her.

She was about half-asleep in the passenger seat. Every time her eyes began to drift, they’d suddenly flutter awake; without her brows furrowing and her mouth set into a hard line, she looked like she had when he’d seen her in that bar, years ago. Soft, he thought absently as wisps of her hair fell out of her ponytail.

He was reminded briefly of how Jacob had once told him, back when they were kids, that an animal feeling comfortable enough to sleep around you was a sign of trust; and then he thought about how much he was sure Elliot would murder him for even drawing those parallels.

“What were you doing?” he asked, when he saw her eyes stay open for longer than a few seconds. “When I ran into you, I mean. Back at the compound.”

A grimace crossed the blonde’s face. She rubbed her forehead tiredly. “Just thinking.”

“That is quite a chore,” John agreed, and she shot him a scowl.

“Fuck you.”

“If you ask,” he agreed, “politely.”

That bloomed the red in her face, so fair was her skin that it was visible almost instantly. For once, she had no rapidfire response ready. He could hear the gears of her brain grinding and hitching before she finally said, “Stupid.”

John tried not to seem too pleased. Rain began to fall—steady at first, and then pelting the windshield with what felt like baseball sized raindrops. John slowed down as they took a corner, grimacing.

“I don’t want you to tell Joey,” Elliot said after a moment, with no context, though he had an idea of what she meant and it made something sharp and prickly coil in his stomach, right there under his heartbeat. Still, he feigned innocence.

“About—?” he prompted, but before she could clarify he plunged on. “That I’d do anything for my family? Or about how if you asked nicely I’d—”

“The kiss,” Elliot bit out, scoffing under her breath. “You fucking narcissist.”

“That’s still about me,” he pointed out, slowing down more as the wind picked up. “I really don’t think we’re gonna beat the storm.”

“ John.”

“Well!” He exhaled sharply. “What, you don’t want your best friend to know that I kissed you—”

“I’m serious—”

“—and you kissed me back?”

“Yes!” She snapped. “That’s exactly right! Good job, John, do you want a medal for your skills in critical thinking? I know that must have been a real fucking strain for you.”

Great, he thought dryly. Glad she’s back up to full steam. “And why not?” he demanded. “Seems like you and Hudson don’t keep anything from each other.”

“Because she’s going to ask why ,” Elliot replied finally, after she let a long heartbeat wind its way between them, “and I don’t—I won’t have an answer, because I don’t know.”

It was his turn to be quiet. He might have been more discouraged—and fairly—if his brain didn’t keep turning over the fact that she hadn’t denied kissing him back. Not even for a second.

I think you’re doing a great job with the deputy.

In an effort to ease the tension, and ignore Joseph’s voice lingering in his head, John offered, “If she asks that, you could just be honest.”

Elliot waited, because he supposed that she knew he wasn’t done talking; but it wasn’t any fun if she wasn’t going to walk into the punchline, so he waited, too. And when she finally said, “And how would I answer, then, John?” tiredly, he settled back into the seat comfortably.

“That I’m handsome, and irresistible, and there is an undeniable —” He ignored her infuriated groan and plunged on, “—attraction between us.”

“I have an incredible idea. Let’s play the “John shuts the fuck up and gets Elliot to town” game.”

“Now you’re just being mean. ”

A little laugh came out of her at that—the first time John thought he’d heard her laugh in a long time, even considering that they’d only been at this for a little under a week. The sound made a pleasant warmth bloom in him.

“Just focus on getting us to town, grandpa,” she said. “Then we can talk about how mean I am.”

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By the time they got to Fall’s End, the storm had started to hit in full force. John barely managed to pull the truck in front of the Spread Eagle before he watched the wind lean a telephone pole hard left.

“We’re not driving back until this storm is done,” he told Elliot, over the screaming wind. Thunder rumbled, rattling deep inside of the cavity of his chest; two seconds outside of the truck had them drenched, clothes sticking to them.

“Then we’ll have plenty of time to collect up supplies,” she called back, pushing the door of the bar open and stepping inside. John followed suit; he even held his breath, just for a second, with the idea that maybe the Resistance hadn’t left when she’d told them to. But inside it was quiet; the lights were down, presumably from the storm, and all he could hear was the faint sound of the rain pelting the windows and the thunder rolling outside. 

Elliot said, in a sigh of relief, “They left.” John threw the lock on the front door just for good measure—not that he thought Ase’s men would be out in this kind of storm—and then followed her further into the bar. 

“I’m glad that we’re able to get… Fireball for you and Hudson,” John remarked as he inspected one of the bottles, and Elliot scrunched up her face.

“Gross.”

“What? You’re a little country bumpkin. Don’t you love Fireball?”

“Um,” Elliot said, “fuck you. Call me a country bumpkin again, John.” She busied herself with picking up one of the plastic crates and filling it with dry foods, muttering crossly under her breath. He watched her deliberate for a moment before she picked up one of the nicer bottles of vodka and planted it in the crate.

“I’m scandalized!” he exclaimed. “Can’t wait to tell Jacob I drove you down here for you to get alcohol .”

“That’s not the only thing,” she protested, “and we still have to stop by my house. Once the storm clears up.”

It didn’t pass John’s attention that Elliot hadn’t argued with him about driving in a storm like she had before, nor that she seemed to be a thousand yards more relaxed than she had been in the compound. Her hands moved with a different surety now, a different kind of confidence that had been missing before; sleep, he thought, and a day or two without getting drugged would do that to a person.

“Well, I’m going to take a shot,” John announced, shivering. “Before I die of exposure.”

She eyed him warily but continued to busy herself; though her clothes were drenched too, her shivering was purely physical, shuddering in her shoulders and back but not once rattling her teeth or hands. The blonde pushed the wet hair from her face on occasion, and sometimes sniffled, but as John poured himself a shot he thought that she seemed much more composed.

John made his way over to where she was packing things up behind the bar, reaching around her from behind to set a shot down in front of her.

“I’ll take back that I called you bumpkin,” he said lightly, “if you take this shot with me.”

“We’re here to get supplies, John,” she replied flatly.

“And we’re stuck until the storm blows over.”

Elliot narrowed her eyes. She was certainly considering a number of things—the fact that they would be leaving as soon as the storm was done, he would assume—but then, as though she had worked herself up to it, she snatched the shot glass off of the table and took it. John quickly followed suit, but not without a noise of protest.

“That isn’t how you take a shot,” he told her, watching her mouth twist at the taste. “You’re supposed to tap the bar first.”

“I was going to lose my nerve,” she defended, and for once that idea that Elliot was admitting that she had nerve that could be lost made John feel a little good. “ Yuck. I told you Fireball was bad.”

“I take it back. You’re not a bumpkin. You’re a very sophisticated, intelligent, beautiful woman, who just happens to want to live in the country, for some reason.”

Something about what he’d said made her attitude falter, disappearing right before his eyes as her cheeks heated up from his words. She said, after a moment, “Why are you trying to get me to drink, anyway?”

The question was a fair one, he supposed, though as he leaned against the bar near to her he shrugged. “Well,” he began, “it’s fucking cold, for one. For two, since Hudson spirited away when we first met, I never got the chance to figure out what would have happened if you’d stayed.”

The blonde returned to keeping her hands busy, moving briskly. “ I know,” she said, more confidently than he would have expected, and he arched a brow at her.

“And what would have happened, then?”

“I would have gone home with you,” Elliot replied, without missing a beat, sucking the wind right out of his sails. And it was that easy, too; I would have gone home with you, she’d said, like it was nothing, like it didn’t matter that this whole time she’d been fighting him at every turn but was now openly admitting that she had wanted him then.

She would have been mine, something wicked in him whispered, pulling itself out of the dark recesses of his mind. I would have had her, all to myself, for all this time. She’d have been my monster of Wrath. Think about how obedient she would be now.

Before John could say anything, she continued, “Because I was young, and stupid, and we should be thankful that I’m not the same girl I was then.”

He studied her for a moment, watched the way that she absently pushed the damp hair from her face, the way the heat spread in her cheeks. And he said, “Pretend, then.”

Her hands stilled, and she looked at him. “Pretend what?”

“We’re in a bar,” John replied, closing what little distance remained between them, his hand on the bar beside her, gently and half-way boxing her in. “You’re Junior Deputy Elliot, as you are now , and I’m me. Pretend that we’re just in a bar together, and that you’re not a stupid, young girl that was just charmed by me.”

There were a few moments of silence; moments where John thought he might have spooked her off, ignited that hairpin fight-or-flight inside of her, but she didn’t seem like she had adrenaline running through her body; she just seemed to be figuring it out.

“I can’t,” she said after a moment.

“You can’t,” John repeated.

“Yeah. Because—” She stopped, and then said, “we’re behind the bar. If we’re customers, we wouldn’t—”

John couldn’t stop the short, barked laugh that came out of him. The absurdity of the moment just struck him too hard; and when he laughed, Elliot frowned, turning to face him fully and crossing her arms over her chest.

“Well, it’s true!” she exclaimed. “You can’t ask me to roleplay a situation and then put me in the wrong location.”

“Unreal.” John reached up absently, tucking a loose strand behind her ear. “I cannot believe you just completely ruined the moment.”

“It’s not like we were going to kiss.”

“Oh, it’s not?” His hand drifted from where it had been tucking away her hair down, resting at the juncture between her neck and shoulder. The gesture made her eyes flutter; just the sight of that had something pleasant twisting in John’s stomach, this wild little animal blushing from just a little teasing, just a little touch. How touch-starved was his little hellcat, he wondered? How much could he wring out of her, just like this? “We didn’t even go through the whole scenario, you don’t know.”

“I know ,” Elliot said, even as John leaned in closer, even as her arms seemed to instinctively drop from where they were crossed to allow him to crowd in. The meaning of the gesture wasn’t lost on John—he’d seen the way she’d acted when other people touched her, aside from Hudson. The way she threw up a wall or a hand the second someone got in her space. It made it all feel different.

There was a strange moment suspended between them; the air felt thick and syrupy, humid from the storm outside and their drenched clothes and something else, bubbling and fizzing. She would have been mine, that voice said again. Mine, and not anyone else’s. Not Joseph’s and not Jacob’s and and and.

A thick rumble of thunder rolled just above them; John’s thumb skimmed just over Elliot’s pulsepoint. Her heartbeat flickered at the touch, beats after the sound, so that he knew exactly what had caused it. Him.

She still could be our little hellcat. Our little monster. Our little killer.

“John,” she started, maybe by way of warning, maybe for something else; he leaned in, felt her shoulders tighten with tension or anticipation or both.

So good, John, she��d have said, sweet and obedient and his, when he finally got his hands on her, and the sweet cadence of her voice would hitch just the way that he liked. You feel so good, nobody else has ever made me feel like you, I’d do anything for you, yes yes yes.

“I meant it back then.” His hands itched for it, now that the words were turning over and over in his head, now that he was letting the days of frustration and anger fade for just a moment. His voice came out in a murmur. “When I called you beautiful. That hasn’t changed.”

She sucked in a little breath, like she was trying to steel herself. “Don’t fucking play with me.”

“I’m not.” John skimmed his fingers up to her jaw; her chin tilted up like nothing, as though she already knew what he wanted and she wanted it too, and it suddenly all felt like a little bit too much; too raw, scraping against exposed nerve-endings, all of those times she’d spit on his work or bite out an insult into the walkie or dig her nails into him until he’d bled or tried to kill a man for touching her, all blending into sharp edges that caught and tore the closer they got to each other. John would twist and writhe his way in past them, if she gave him the chance—so that he could get elbows-deep in the gore and grit of her, really sink his teeth in.

So much wrath, he thought, when their noses brushed. So much wrath, and look at how sweet she is for me now.

What patience he’d been exerting was rewarded; Elliot closed the last of the distance between them and kissed him. She tasted like cinnamon-whiskey and a little like rain; he wouldn’t have wanted someone less, he thought, someone less wrathful. He liked the infernal in her—he was supposed to be wiping it out, breaking it in his hands and shaping it into obedience, but he liked that when her lips parted and she sighed into the kiss that something felt carnal about that simple, plain gesture alone, because the knowledge of what she was capable of and what she didn’t let others do made this kind of thing feel more.

A heavy gust of wind rattled the front door in its frame; the sound of it, wood colliding and metal shuddering against the strain of keeping it in place, made Elliot jump and pull away. It took all of his willpower not to chase her body heat. Instead, he stayed exactly where he was—perfectly within reach of her, and he thought for a moment that Joseph had been right: she would have never cowed to his methods. This was the only way to—

To what? Break her in? Make her mine?

“I can’t,” Elliot said again, the words brushing their lips together, and this time he hadn’t asked her to do anything so he knew what she meant. “I don’t know what kind of game—”

He felt her pulse jump under his fingers again. “No game.”

“There’s always a game,” she protested.

“Maybe I just want to kiss you,” John offered, and leaned in just a little again, keeping his voice low. “Have you thought about that? Maybe, I just like the way you are when I kiss you.”

Elliot’s head tilted out of reach. He could feel the heat blooming on her cheeks, even in the dark. “Oh,” she said. He waited for an elaboration, and it was several heartbeats before she continued, “You make me so fucking mad.”

John exhaled a sharp breath, hand dropping from her as he lugged most of his weight against the bar top. “It must be so exhausting,” he said, “doing the amount of mental gymnastics you have to do every day to pretend like you don’t want to kiss me back.”

“Well, I—” Her eyelashes fluttered, and she set her jaw, and John could see she was doing that thing where she readied herself for some kind of blow. “It’s—different. When you’re like this.”

“Like…?”

Elliot sighed. “I don’t want to talk about this,” she said, turning back to the crate full of supplies and nudging it out of the way to make room for a second. As the wind howled outside, and rain pounded against the roof and windows, John thought that the most infuriating thing about Elliot was that she’d run her mouth for days and was now deciding to be tight-lipped.

“No, please, continue,” he insisted, his words coming out tight. “I’m just dying to know your official diagnosis of me, Deputy Honeysett. While we’re at it, why don’t we do the whole group? Jacob, Joseph, me, and Faith. You are the authority on fuck-ups, aren’t you?”

“You don’t owe him,” Elliot snapped. Her gaze was hard when she turned to look at him, her words a vicious parry of his anger. “You don’t owe Joseph your blood and guts all the time.”

“He gave me everything,” John bit out. “He’s my brother.”

“So what?” She ground the words on their way out of her mouth. “So fucking what, John? You think I bend over backwards for my mama while she drinks herself to death every fucking day? No, I don’t. I don’t grovel for her affection, I don’t kiss the fucking ground she walks on just because she brought me into this world, and that’s more than you can say Joseph did for you. So I’ll say it again—so fucking what, he’s your brother? What does it fucking matter?”

I don’t know, John thought, his brain scrambling to piece together a response. But nothing came. He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know how to explain to Elliot that before-Joseph and after-Joseph were so drastically different, and that if he went back to before-Joseph, he didn’t know who he was going to be.

“I don’t,” John managed out after a moment, all of her softness gone. He’d misstepped on his way in, and now those jagged edges were latching on to him; no room to back out and escape her dissection, no room to delve in deep and find refuge in the space between her ribs, either. “Do that, for him.”

“You do,” Elliot snipped, turning to him now. “I’ve seen it. I told you I have. You’re not that stupid, John.”

Her words lit something angry in him—something wounded, something hurt, something that wanted desperately for Joseph to tell him he did a good job and that didn’t want to admit it. “Well, that can’t be true,” he said, “because Joseph didn’t ask me to go back for you at the campground, and I did anyway. So what’s your diagnosis on that , Doctor Honeysett?”

Elliot’s baby-blues flickered for a moment, impatient to exit the conversation but unwilling to relinquish any ground she’d gotten. She is so fucking stubborn, he thought as he watched the tension in her jaw. So fucking stubborn, even when she practically crumbles the second I touch her.

“I don’t know,” she said finally.

“Well I do ,” John replied angrily, “and it’s that outside of my loyalty to Joseph, there’s you, and I want both.”

“Fuck you.” Her words weren’t angry now, but strained, scrambling for a foothold somewhere; not a damsel in distress, but a damsel under duress, Joseph had said. “You sound so—fucking stupid saying shit you don’t—”

He kissed her again—no tentative questioning, now, no delicate pauses between breaths to try not to spook her. He took her face in his hands and kissed her, pinned in the corner of the bar between the terminal and the bar top itself; John waited for any sign that she wanted him to stop, but her fingers fisted the front of his shirt and kept him there.

“I do mean it,” he said against her mouth, fingers threading in her hair, just at the base of her scalp. “I want you too , Elliot.”

“You—can’t,” she said. “You can’t have both. I won’t—”

I can, John thought furiously as he kissed her again, as he felt her tense and then relax against him, like each touch was a potential for vicious impact but it turned out not to be. Not quite, anyway. She still felt sharp, like he had to slide past each jagged every time he went to kiss her, but it was worth it, to hear her say his name against their kiss. I can, he thought again, a mantra. To grip too tight or to hold loosely; he didn’t know, but he was afraid of the departure, so he held tighter. I can. You’re mine, and I can have both.

I will have both.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The storm didn’t let up, which meant that Elliot was trapped—with John, with what she’d done, with what she’d let herself do. Kiss—and enjoy kissing—John Seed.

It had been stupid to indulge again. It had been stupid to let herself take his words— I want both —at face value because John had proven time and time again that even he couldn’t swallow back the duality of his own existence. The bark and the bite. But though she wanted desperately to pretend as though she didn’t want or feel anything, though she wished that she could wipe the memories from her mind forever, John’s hands on her face grounded her; they rooted her to the earth, and he didn’t kiss her like any man had ever kissed her before. It was like he was starved for her.

A vicious gust of wind rattling the front door of the Spread Eagle had broken the moment. John went to the window to make sure it was just wind, and without the smell of him and the heat of him muddying up her conscience, she could busy herself. Loading supplies, gathering whatever she could that Mary May had been holding on to and hadn’t taken with her when they left, because tomorrow she and Joey would be gone, and she would be able to forget about John Seed and the glimpses of goodness and patience she had seen in him, in equal parts with his anger and cruelty.

And she could forget about how she liked those parts, too, because they felt like her own, like someone knew exactly what she felt and was going to accept those parts of her anyway.

By the time they had finished loading stuff up in the truck through quick darts back and forth, the storm had mostly slowed down to rain. John’s teeth chattered as they loaded up into the truck and then pulled around and down the street to Elliot’s house, the heat cranked and the radio flipped off, leaving them with only the sound of the rain to mitigate whatever lingered loud and sharp between them.

“I’ll wait here,” John said, rubbing his hands together. “If you go quick we might be able to make it back before this picks up again.”

“Got it,” Elliot replied briskly, grateful that he wasn’t going to push to come in. He seemed just as deep in his thoughts as she felt, which meant maybe she’d get some peace and quiet on their way back. 

She nudged the door open and ducked into the house, fumbling under the mat for the spare key before opening the door and stepping inside. It might have been a little bit of a mistake to come back home. The smell of her house —a little like pine and her fabric softener, because she’d just ran a load of laundry before all this happened—hit her hard. It sucked all of the air out of her lungs, ripped it right out of her, gutted her instantly.

My home, she thought, with a sense of finality. Because she would never be coming back. She would never come back to this little house, even if Joseph got put down, even if the Family got cleaned out of Hope County. There was a part of Elliot that understood she would never be able to be happy here, not again.

She stuffed clothes, photographs, some books into a bag. She took the time to change into something dry and warm, pulling socks up and lacing herself into some boots. There wasn’t time to take everything that she wanted, everything that mattered, but she had started over her whole life once before and she thought that she could do it again.

It felt like perhaps an eternity had passed as she moved through her house and tried to pick and choose what mattered enough to come with her; in reality, it was probably only ten minutes, but her grip on time seemed to slip away the second she was in the safety of her house, of her own clothes, around her things.

I’m really leaving . The thought swept through her brain violently as she closed the door behind her, zipping up her jacket against the chilly nighttime winds. I’m really never coming back.

Elliot tossed the bag into the back seat, among the other supplies, and then settled into the seat. John looked at the small bag, and then back at her.

“Got everything?” he asked, and what he meant was, is that really all you wanted?

“Got everything,” Elliot replied. She kept her eyes fixed forward, because she thought if she looked over at John and saw the way he was looking at her, she might actually come unglued.

The brunette only waited for a moment longer before he pulled out from in front of her house and then drove them out of Fall’s End. The bar, the church, her house; they all faded away in the rearview mirror of the truck, perhaps the last time she would ever set eyes on the place that had always taken her back and held her—in the way that her mother hadn’t, the way her father hadn’t, the way nobody else had.

John stayed blissfully quiet for the car ride. He didn’t bring up their moment in the bar, or anything that she’d said, but just drove them diligently back to the compound. It was the first time that he’d opted to stay quiet of his own volition, and she was grateful for it.

I want both.

She didn’t know what that meant. She knew what he was saying—in a perfect world, John Seed would have Joseph’s approval and she wouldn’t want to kill his siblings, and she’d stick around and just drop everything she had spent this entire time suffering for. But she didn’t know what it meant, what it really meant to John, when he was saying it to her with his fingers tangled in her hair and his mouth on hers.

It was early morning by the time they got back to the compound, dawn just beginning to creep over the distant mountain range and the rain having slowed. John turned the truck off, the engine ticking as it cooled, and for a second they just sat there, the sound of the rain in the early morning swallowing them up in the cab of the truck.

And then, Elliot said, “I’m really leaving,” at the same time as John said, “You don’t have to go,” and the silence was really awkward then, stretching out endlessly between them. John exhaled sharply, rubbing the back of his neck.

“If you go, it won’t be the end,” he finally continued. “They could catch you and Joey on your way out. Even if they don’t, Burke got out—this whole thing is far from over.”

“So—” Elliot stopped herself, trying to find some composure somewhere inside of her. “—why are you staying , then?”

It wasn’t like she was asking John to come with them. She just didn’t understand the need to stay and burn.

“I told you,” John replied after a moment. “They’re my family.”

The words made her tired. She pushed the door open, a gust of cold wind hitting her and sobering her almost immediately.

“Elliot—”

“I’ve got a lot to do, John,” she said, hauling one crate and then another out of the truck before stacking them and lifting them into her arms. Her muscles screamed at the effort, but it was a good kind of burn—the kind that reminded her that she was alive. The kind that reminded her she was real.

John said, “Okay, El,” as she hauled her things back to the bunkhouse.

Okay, she thought. Okay, okay, whatever you say, John.

It would just make it easier in the morning, anyway.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Elliot spent the entirety of the morning ignoring him. It was probably for the best, anyway; John had a distinct feeling that any conversation between the two of them was only going to end up tense at best, and explosive at worst. He didn’t know how he was going to tell Joseph that they weren’t sticking around.

Another problem for another time.

Once, when the sun came out, he passed Joey on his way to the church. She stopped and looked like she wanted to say something; even when she finally got around to it, her words were clipped.

“Thanks for bringing her back,” the brunette said, watching him warily.

“I wasn’t going to leave her at Fall’s End. You’re not the deputy I want,” John replied dryly, knowing full well that Joey thought he had some nefarious plan to keep Elliot stuck there. Well, she’s not that far off, anyway.

Joey’s lips twisted into a grimace. She said, “I meant before. From the campground. I know you didn’t have to, and Jacob’s pissed you did, so.”

Oh, John thought, not having expected that. He cleared his throat and tried to figure out how it was he wanted to respond—there was no formula in his brain on how to disarm or parry Hudson when she was being genuine.

Before he could come up with something, she said, “Anyway, that’s all,” and turned to head off, walking briskly, effectively ending their conversation and reminding John that their time together was rapidly drawing to a close.

The morning bled into the afternoon. It was a beautiful Fall day, after all of the rain and wind that had been plummeting Hope County into something wretched. John thought that Elliot had to be sleeping off their little adventure in Fall’s End—another event and space in time that he wanted both to lock away forever and keep at the forefront of his mind in equal amounts.

“Hey, fuckhead!”

His head snapped immediately to the front of the yard. They’d been back since early dawn, but he hadn’t seen hide nor hair of Elliot, or even Joey after their little run-in; John was still stuck trying to figure out a way to get them to stay—tell them they couldn’t take a truck, maybe, but even though he knew that’d slow them down, he also knew that Elliot and Joey would carry their shit on foot if they had to, and Elliot wouldn’t be staying without Joey.

However, the problem at hand had immediately made itself apparent; Jacob, turning a truck off after having pulled up next to the one that she had just emptied out and Elliot, stalking across the yard, vibrating with fury. He could feel it from here.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, feeling eyes turn to the commotion. Faith watched him inquisitively from the doorway of the church, leaned against it with the dark circles ringing her eyes. He took in a sharp breath. “Hold on, I’ll—one minute—”

“I’m tired, deputy,” he heard Jacob drawl as he opened the driver’s side door, one leg sliding out. “Don’t you think you can wait to...”

Elliot kicked the driver’s side door hard , in a spartan-like gesture that would have been impressive if it wasn’t so alarming, slamming it on Jacob’s leg and drawing from his eldest brother a bit-out swear that made John think perhaps Elliot was going to be hurtling herself toward death imminently; and maybe Elliot knew that too, but if she did, she didn’t care.

Jacob climbed all the way out of the truck and closed the driver’s side door, the frame rattling from the force of the gesture. Bad , John thought faintly, idly, somewhere very far away from himself. Bad, so fucking bad, what the fuck.

“Hey,” John said, coming around the front of the truck feeling something close to panic at the way Jacob’s expression darkened. “Deputy, let’s—”

“Where the fuck is she?” the blonde demanded. John hooked one arm around her waist the second she started taking another step toward Jacob—not just because he thought Elliot might actually put her teeth in Jacob if she got the chance, but because he also thought that Jacob wouldn’t skip out on an opportunity to try and teach her a lesson. Regardless, John’s presence meant next to nothing; she pushed at his arm with vigor, but her vitriol remained pointed at the redhead. “What the fuck did you do with her, you stupid fucking caveman?”

“Muzzle your fucking beast,” Jacob snapped, his words overlapping Elliot’s. The collision of their voices in apparent discord—Elliot’s high, frantic note of hysteria and fury brutalizing the darker timbre of Jacob’s voice—clattered around in John’s tired brain violently; Elliot squirmed in his grip, and the idea that she might try and headbutt him passed briefly through his mind.

“Yeah, John .” Elliot dripped the words in a sticky honey on their way out of her mouth. She was practically sweating poison, her thrashing stilled for a moment as she used that same eerie, cloying sweetness she had before, with Jace. You’d let me walk around, wouldn’t you? Except now it was pointed at him, this saccharine tone, begging him to do it. “Muzzle your beast, poor Jacob’s scared I’ll fucking kill him.”

Not how he wanted this. Not like this. Fuck fuck fuck. “Elliot—”

A half-cocked grin split across Jacob’s face. He leaned forward, almost within grabbing reach of Elliot. “Yeah? You think you could do it, little girl?”

“We’re not doing this,” John insisted, hauling the blonde back a few feet. “Alright? We’re not doing—”

It was only them, the two of them in the whole world—Jacob and Elliot, desperate to rip each other apart, and John was just the poor fool stuck in the middle.

“Get John to let me go,” Elliot bit out, “and fucking find out. I know you did something to her, and when I find out I’ll fucking kill you—you and your stupid fucking brother and every single Peggy that tries—”

“Okay, alright—” John turned, dragging the blonde— she’s so tiny, how is it so hard to take her anywhere —and started walking her toward the bunkhouse. She dug her feet into the dirt, but he thankfully had an advantage on her in that respect. “We’re done here.”

With his arms locked around her, and wisps of her hair sticking to his face, he heard Jacob call from behind him leisurely, “Only one thing to do with a rabid dog, John.”

Put it down. 

The sentence completed itself against his will in the confines of his mind. He knew already what Jacob was thinking, but that was a problem for another time.

“In we go,” John said, releasing one grip to open the door. The bunkhouse was empty , which suddenly made Elliot’s venom and anger make more sense.

“She’s gone!” Her voice was almost a wail, and as she pulled herself out of John’s grip she began to pace, frantically. “She’s fucking gone and I know he did something, what the fuck was he doing out of the compound? He hates Hudson. I know he does. He did something to her, John—”

He held up his hands to steady her, reaching, but she smacked his hand away.

“Move,” she bit out.

“You can’t kill Jacob,” John replied.

“Fuck. You.” For a second, he thought that she might actually try to kill him. Her eyes swept over him in a way that they hadn’t before— calculating, figuring out the logistics of strangling him or not, the same way that he’d seen her regard other members of Eden’s Gate, the same way she had looked just before smashing a man’s face in with a shovel. 

It seemed her brain came to some conclusion, because instead of trying to kill him she moved to go past him again, but he was faster. His arm hooked around her waist again and hauled her back from the door.

“I don’t mean that for lack of trying,” John snapped, “I mean that Jacob will kill you first .”

She made a wrecked, agonized noise and tried to squirm out of his grip again, but he locked it in tight; the noise was enough to rattle his skeleton, enough to make his stomach twist, but he held fast.

Elliot said, distressed now, “I have to find Joey, I have to—what did he do with her—”

A frantic kind of panic was spilling out of her, bleeding into him, too. She was going to go out there and try to kill Jacob if he didn’t put a stop to it, and though there was a part of him that wanted to let her try—to see how much she could actually do against Jacob—he knew better.

“El,” he said, “don’t. Jacob didn’t do anything to her.” He didn’t know that for sure, but that would be a problem for another time.

“I have to find her,” Elliot insisted, her voice breaking. “I have to, John—”

“We will.” His words seemed to cut straight through the panic, right down to the grit of it, and she stopped trying to split past him. Her hands were trembling though, the blood having fled them as she gripped him.

“Find her,” she gritted out. “ Please.”

Please. John couldn’t remember a time that she’d asked him like that, with politeness. With sincerity. Maybe she had—but it was hard to pick out those moments in all the rage, all of the wrath.

“I will,” John managed out, after those baby blues had him pinned. “I will, El, okay? I’ll find her.”

“Promise me.” Urgency flooded her voice; her eyes flickered over his face, as though to check for a lie, some kind of tell that would out him; but she would find none, because there were none. There was no universe, John thought, where he would say he’d find her and he didn’t mean it. To what end, anyway? She’d leave if he did. “Promise me, I can’t do it by myself.”

“I do.” He took her face in his hands; all of the blood which had fled her fingers was in her face, feverish with panic. Her breath wobbled in her mouth frantically; it was the first time he’d seen her so close to tears without the horror of a bad trip dragging her down.

John knew that he was toeing a fine line between helping Elliot and keeping her. He knew that he couldn’t say he wouldn’t, or he’d risk ruining everything that had been so delicately built between them—but finding Joey would enable them to go. And then what would he do?

Anything I have to.

“I promise.”

[allie-and-her-fandoms]

The Thing I'll Never Regret

Author's Notes: Hello, guys. It's me, ya girl (still need to work on my fun stuff, it seems). Now that college started, I have less time than I already did so yeah. But I found the time to write this ficlet as a gift for the one and only @aconstellationofmemories, my sweet dear daughter (even if her birthday was 4 days ago). Happy Birthday, Min! And enjoy this angsty and trashy Gruvia fanfic. This is also the prequel to another fic I wrote, "Waiting For A Storm". Enjoy or endure!

Tags: angst, hurt/comfort, happy ending.

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“Let me get this straight,” Porlyusica snarled. “You came to see me, in the middle of the night, telling me that you felt nauseous on mornings and more tired than usual for quite a while, which could ONLY mean that this brat over here,” she pointed her index at Gray, “might’ve impregnated you. Is that about right?” Her red eyes sending a cold glare at the two young Mages standing in front of her.

“Juvia apologizes for disturbing your sleep. She knows she was supposed to visit you later, but someone could not wait any longer.” she replied, as Gray mumbled “Sure, blame it on the boyfriend.” After a second, Juvia found the resolve to continue. “So… Is Juvia’s hunch… correct?” the Water Mage murmured, almost too scared to hear the answer from the magenta-haired Healer, the grip of her hand firm on Gray’s, as the ill-tempered woman let out a heavy sigh, her thumb and index finger pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Right now, I cannot tell for certain. I still need to check the magic concentration in your body. That will help me give you a more accurate answer. Until I get everything ready, sit down there.” Porlyusica replied, pointing at a bed under the window of her hut. Both Mages nodded, and their steps lead them to the minuscule bed, as Porlyusica was looking for something in one of her cabinets.

As Juvia sat down on the rather uncomfortable bed, Gray’s fingers found their way on his girlfriend’s shoulder. They were going to find out if a new life will bless theirs soon enough. Half him, and half her. For Juvia, it was almost surreal. Her heart might nourish a new one, one that will bring her and her beloved a new kind of joy. However, as she stood straight on the bed, Juvia felt lightheaded and brought her hand to her head, her vision blurry and her body getting colder and heavier, and the last things she remembered were Gray screaming her name and her side hitting the mattress.

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The first thing Juvia’s eyes met was a bright light that was lit above her head, almost blinding her. As her lips let out a groan, she felt two hands holding hers. Two hands she could recognize as easy as their owner. “Gray…”

“You gave us quite a scare.” he affirmed bluntly, as his eyes softened. “How do you feel?”

“Juvia still feels a bit dizzy, but she should be better now.” she intonated, as her eyes caught the scarlet and gold of Porlyusica’s cape.

“You’ve been out for quite a while, girl.” she berated Juvia. “While you were unconscious, I tried to see what was happening. And…” Porlyusica let out a heavy sigh. That was rather odd; she would yell, grunt or even throw things at people visiting her, but she never sighed. “I do have some good news, and some… quite unfortunate ones. Which ones do you want to hear?” the Healer paltered, as the couple exchanged some worried glances.

“I think it would be better if you told us the good news first.” It was Gray who replied, while Juvia nodded approvingly.

“Very well then. The good news is that Juvia’s hunch was correct. You are indeed expecting. 7 weeks along, to be more exact.” Porlyusica replied, as Juvia’s eyes lit up and Gray’s widened in shock. They were going to have a child.

“And now the bad news,” she continued. “If we all remember correctly, you have defeated one of the Nine Gates of Tartaros by making it explode. In the process, you absorbed many of its Bane Particles. And because we could not get its blood, I was not able to heal you.” Gray’s heart dropped, and Juvia’s did the same. “And this might get you in mortal danger.” Their eyes widened, as the two Mages could not find their words. Mortal danger?

“What… do you mean by that, exactly?” Juvia’s voice was shaking; she knew what the answer was going to be, but she still needed confirmation.

“It means that there is an extremely high chance for you to die giving birth to this child.” The answer was echoing throughout the chamber, as Juvia’s hands went down to her belly, grasping it. The words kept repeating in her mind, as her breaths were shorter and tears were blooming in her eyes. Her gaze switched to Gray, whose eyes were wide open, mouth slightly open and hands shaking.

“I… need some air.” he uttered, heading towards the front door, Juvia following him while mouthing an apology to Porlyusica, who was scoffing “Humans”, but not before her own face darkened. Human or not, it seemed like someone had to pay with their life.

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“Gray, please, wait for Juvia!” she ran after the Ice Mage, panting as she was chasing Gray, who had finally stopped after Porlyusica’s hut was nowhere in their sight any longer.

“Every single TIME!” he spat out, as his fist hit the trunk of an oak. “Every single time, death must taunt me in some way.” He laughed bitterly, earning a concerned look from Juvia. “I cannot lose you, Juvia. Not again…” Gray’s shoulders dropped, as he let his head down, remembering the day they fought against each other. “I cannot let you die. I won’t let you!” he snarled, as Juvia’s eyes widened.

“My love, what does this mean?” her voice was shaking, fearing for the answer she might get.

“Juvia, I want to ask you something. What will you do?”

“What?” Juvia asked, fear seeping deep in her bones.

“What do you intend to do? What is your choice?” Gray’s question came out harsh, fearing for her response.

Juvia’s hands were trembling and as she placed them against her belly, the shakes subsided, as the Water Mage found her resolve. “Juvia wants to keep this child. This life is equally just as precious as ours; and Juvia will do anything within her power to defend this baby’s life Gray, no matter what. Even if Juvia must trade her life for it.”

“I am NOT going to sit back and let you risk your life like this. You deserve to live too! Why… Why are you risking your life for…?” his angry remarks turned into hopeless whispers, as he grit his teeth.

“Gray, we are Mages. As Mages, our duty is not only to go on jobs and make Jewels, but to give help to those in need, and to protect Fiore and all its citizens.” Juvia replied, her voice soothing as the sound of waves washing away the shore.

“I do not understand where you’re going –” Gray remarked, until Juvia’s hands rested on his and his words could no longer make their way out.

“As a Mage, and as your beloved, Juvia will always make sure you are safe, no matter what happens.”

“I feel the same way.” Gray claimed, as he remembered they protected each other. The attack of the Dragons, Simon, Ultear, Invel… However, his train of thought stopped abruptly as Juvia took his hands and placed them underneath her heart, his eyes widening.

“Right now, Juvia feels the same about this baby. This is a new life that was given to her, and Juvia will make sure that she will protect this little one, no matter what, not only because this is what a Mage does, but also because this is what being a mother means.” she replied, her sapphire eyes longing for Gray’s dark gaze.

As she stood there, the Water Mage felt her beloved’s hands being pulled away from her abdomen. Still in shock, she once again tried to look at the Ice Mage, whose face was now stern. “I need some time to myself. Go home.” It whim as all Gray could say before he created an icy wall between him and Juvia, so she would not follow him, leaving his girlfriend in sorrow.

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As his gaze wandered through the waves, Gray’s mind was only on one thing: the fact that he might lose his girlfriend once again. And that in her place, there will be a child left. A part of her that he will most likely have to take care of on his own. The mere thought of this happening made him start to break. This could not be happening!

As he wandered on the shore, Gray kneeled in front of the endless azure that soaked his boots and almost instinctively, he reached to touch the waves, warmth greeting the palm of his hand. The warmth of the sea. The sea. Juvia. Ur.

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“She was my legacy, my tear.” Ur finished her story, a sad smile adorning her face. “Maybe one day, you will feel the same way.” she added, while looking at Gray and Lyon, gaining an admiring gaze from the white-haired boy, and a frown from the black-haired one. “Now off you go. Molding Magic might be a free magic, but even something that is free could be improved with training. While Lyon was running outside the small house, Gray did not budge.

“Ur… Wasn’t your daughter sick, from what I remember? And why did you have to raise her alone?” Gray questioned his mentor, expecting her to hit him or at least yell at him, but he was surprised when he heard her sigh.

“Her father left before she was born.” Ur began her story, curtains of sadness draped over her onyx eyes. “I still don’t fully understand why, but he did. And yes, she suffered from magic outbursts sometimes.”

“And you miss her…”

Ur nodded, a lonely tear spilling on her cheek. “Yes. I might’ve been alone, but she gave me strength. She was my ray of sunshine on a snowy day. I felt like I could do anything for her.” she replied, as she quickly wiped her cheek. “The days I spent with her, the days I was her mother, were the best days of my life. I was not perfect, and I might’ve made a lot of mistakes that I regretted after, but being her mother is the thing I’ll never regret. I just wish I could’ve spent more time with her.” Another smile, now shaded by joy, was leaving her lips. Another thing I don’t regret is having you and Lyon as my students. You may want me to put you in a glacier for eternity, but you now hold my will to live.” Ur intoned as she ruffled Gray’s hair. “Wait… What are you still doing here?! Go train!” her old, stern self pointed at the courtyard, while a scared Gray was running like his life depended on it. As she witnessed that, Ur smiled and whispered “You are the second thing I’ll never regret, Gray, Lyon…”

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As the memory finally concluded, a raindrop hit Gray’s nose, making him snap out of the reminiscence and return to a lead-colored, rainy present. He would recognize that grey skies and that rain anywhere; after remembering the events that played on that day, Gray found himself running on the Magnolian streets, on his way to the home that he shared with Juvia.

Soon after he entered their apartment, he frantically looked for his girlfriend, until he finally found her in their bedroom, her eyes focused on the raindrops that were running down the window.

He carefully got closer to her, and rested his hand on her shoulder, startling her.

“Gray! You scared Juvia to death!” she shrieked, as her hands rested against her heart.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to.” Gray replied, scratching his head with his free hand. “Listen, Juvia… We need to talk about…”

“Juvia already knows your answer, and she will not change her mind.” Juvia’s expression became solemn, as if she knew what was going to happen.

“Wait, what? No, no no, it’s not that, Juvia. I just… I realized where your answer came from, and no matter what you choose… I’ll respect that.” the Ice Mage answered, as the Water Mage was left in shock. “Someone reminded me about how each life is precious in its own way. So, if you want us to have this child,” he rested both his hands against her abdomen, “then I promise I’ll do my best for them. But… I still don’t want to lose you…” Gray whispered, his head lowering.

“Gray… Remember what Porlyusica said? That there is a high risk for that to happen, not that it’s guaranteed.” the Water Mage placed her hands over Gray’s, looking at him lovingly. “Juvia will bring this baby into this world, but she is also going to do her best to live to see what the future may hold for the three of us. Juvia will live not only for you, but only for our child.” she smiled Gray’s way, who was still surprised by this realization.

“This woman…” he whispered. “I’m holding you to that, though.” Gray replied teasingly. “Also, Juvia… Thank you.” a warm smile was sent Juvia’s way, making her heart melt and her cheeks blush furiously.

“For what, Gray?”

“For everything. This life, this child… Everything. Also, I promise you something.” Gray paused, not knowing how to put this thought into words. “I… will do my very best to keep both of you safe, so we can be the family both of you deserve.” Gray orated, making Juvia smile. That’s how he always wanted to see her.

“You mean the THREE of us, right?” Juvia remarked, making Gray scoff.

“Yeah, yeah, like you said.” he let out a soft laugh, while Juvia found herself giggling. Thinking about his master, Gray found himself truly understanding what Ur meant that day. “Ur, I found it myself too now. The thing I’ll never regret.”

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