#i have been saying the same thing for a while now and i hate myself for it

[madebycloud]

pt 1 | Not Even at All

jinx/powder x female reader — 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

summary: vi is off limits until her sister gets a date that doesn't end within the first ten minutes. eager to date vi, a certain girl approaches you with a proposal. date jinx. win her over. and for your efforts, she's willing to be generous. (10 Things I Hate About You AU) warnings/themes: fluff, kinda enemies to what, one sided fake dating, highschool, modern au, smoking (reader), kat!jinx, patrick!reader words: 5.8k notes: because of the age difference, caitlyn is in college that's why she's always on calls.. — ✩ part one, part two, part three, part four, part five

You pick up at the third ring, hearing a deep sigh of relief. “Oh, good, you picked up.”

It's Caitlyn.

You put the phone down for a few seconds to eat your sandwich, before picking the phone back up. “What now?” you ask through a mouthful of sandwich. “I just woke up, y'know.”

The line is silent for a minute.

Then, you hear Caitlyn clear her throat. “Are you busy right now?”

It's 9am on Sunday, of course you're not busy. “Kinda busy eating my breakfast,” you reply, taking another bite. “Why?”

You hear some shuffling on the other end, some muttering, and another pause before Caitlyn speaks again. “I have… a proposition.”

A proposition already, and so early in the morning? you put your sandwich down, sitting up and making sure you heard that right. “I'm listening.”

Caitlyn clears her throat again, and there's sounds of footsteps and whispers in the background, as if she's moving somewhere more secluded. “…Do you know Jinx?”

It's a strange question. Pretty much everyone knows Jinx. “Yeah,” you reply. “Why?”

The shuffling resumes, a few footsteps, and the murmur of voices. “I'll cut to the chase. I'm asking for your help. I need you to do me a favor.”

You pause, raising an eyebrow. What does she want? “Depends on what it is.” You shrug. “And what I'd get in return.” You take a sip from your glass.

The murmuring on Caitlyn's end of the line stops, and you hear the sound of a door clicking shut. “I want you to take Jinx on a date.”

You nearly choke on your drink. “You want me to what?” you manage to ask between coughs.

“It'll be a fake date!” she says quickly. “If you can make this date go smoothly and… make her like you, even a little bit, I'll pay you a hundred dollars.”

Your eyes nearly pop out of your head. “100 dollars?!” You cough again. “You can't just throw me under the bus like that. You've lost your damn mind.”

“Please just hear me out,” Caitlyn pleads. “It's not like you have to ask her to marry you. Just think of it as a challenge. You get 100 dollars if you can get her to enjoy a date with you. Come on, you're good with girls, aren't you?”

What does she think you are, some suave James Bond-esque ladykilling playgirl? while you’ve kissed a couple girls, you can't call yourself super suave. 

“Caitlyn, Jinx hates me.” It's common knowledge. Jinx hates nearly everyone, especially people she was in class with. “She's gonna kill me if I ask her out on a date.” You shudder.

“That's why I chose you for this,” she says. “I figured you were the type to face any challenge head-on.”

“This isn't just a 'challenge', it's a mission for the suicidal,” you retort. “You're setting me up to embarrass myself and get ridiculed in the process.”

You hear her scoff. “So you can flirt and tease the whole damn school, but a date with Jinx is the line you draw, is that it?”

You scowl at her comment. You’ve been known to flirt and joke around with a few people at school, but that’s all it is—meaningless flirting with no strings attached. This is completely different—this is Jinx we’re talking about. “You're comparing apples and oranges here,” you protest. “They're not the same, Cait.”

“Maybe,” she replies. “But I've seen how you've charmed your way out of trouble. You're good at talking your way out of things. And that's exactly what I need right now.”

That's true, but that’s with a teacher, or a TA, or a store manager who’s trying to bust you for shoplifting. Not with Jinx, of all people.

“Caitlyn, c'mon. She's either gonna punch me in the face, or call me a dumbass, or both.”

“Just listen,” she cuts in. “All you have to do is go on a fake date with her. You don’t have to actually like her.”

“No, no, no.” You shake your head, gripping the phone in your hand. “No way, no how.”

“150 dollars.”

“You really, really want me to go on a fake date with Jinx?” you murmur. “Are you that desperate?”

“I'm very desperate.”

You groan, rubbing your temples. “Why are you so fixated on me doing this?”

You hear movement on the other line, like Caitlyn's pacing back and forth. “Okay, look,” she begins. “I… really like her sister. Like really like her. Like…”

This wasn't just a fake date. It was a way to get closer to who she liked. “Oh. Ohh.”

“Yeah...”

Wow. This was a lot more desperate than you initially thought.

“But why don't you just ask her sister out?” you ask.

“I did.” She sighs again. “I asked Vi out last week, and she said she can't go on a date with me until her sister finds someone. Jinx has to be happy before Vi can go on dates, according to her.”

What the hell kind of ridiculous rule is that? “So let me get this straight,” you start. “You want me to go on a fake date with Jinx.”

“Yes.”

“Until she becomes my... girlfriend?”

“Yes.”

“And then you can date Vi.”

“Yes.”

It sounds crazy, ridiculous, batshit insane. “Holy shit, Caitlyn.” You run your fingers over your eyes, shaking your head to yourself. “All of this just so you can get laid?”

A huff comes from the other end of the line. “Are we making a deal or not?”

“Hey, wait a minute—I'm gonna need the money first,” you say, drumming your fingers against the table.

“Excuse me?”

“Yeah,” you explain. “You know, the whole dating thing. Dates, food, gas, that kinda stuff. You can't expect me to pay for all of that with my own money.”

Caitlyn doesn't respond immediately. You can hear some shuffling, and you can imagine her biting her lower lip anxiously, maybe staring out the wall.

“There's a high probability I won't even get a Harley after all this,” you add. 

Silence.

“So I'm gonna need the money...”

There’s a pause, then an annoyed hiss. “Don't you trust me?”

“Oh hell no. Give me the money first and then I'll consider the deal.”

She sighs. “Fine. Whatever, I'll give you the money.”

“All of it?”

“…Yes. All of it. All 150. For your shitty, awful fake date.” She huffs. “Deal?”

“Deal.”

—

You step into the office, finding Caitlyn’s mother already hunched over her laptop, staring over the rim of her glasses. You hated coming into this office. It always felt like you were in the principal’s office.

“I see we're making our visits a weekly ritual,” Mrs. Kiramman says, staring at you over her laptop. 

“Only so we can have these moments together,” you reply, your mouth already curving into a grin. “Should I, uh, get the lights?”

Mrs. Kiramman sighs, her eyes scanning over the paper in front of her. “Exposed yourself... in the cafeteria,” she mutters. “I seriously don't understand why my daughter associates herself with you.”

“It was for a good reason, I swear.”

“Oh, really?” She raises her eyebrow. “And what reason is that?”

“I was joking with the lunch lady,” you explain, spreading your hands out. “She was being snippy with me, so I started unbuttoning my shirt, it's not like I was actually going to flash anyone.”

Mrs. Kiramman takes off her glasses and pinches the bridge of her nose, her other hand coming to rest on her forehead.

“But I suppose if we've already looked through all my wrongdoings, you can release me back into the wild, eh?” you continue.

“Just... make it more than a week before coming back here, alright? I don't want to see you in my office every week—you're a walking headache.”

“Sure thing, Mrs. K.”

“And stop calling me Mrs. K.”

—

Jinx kicks the ball here and there, back and forth, side to side. She's taking all of her frustrations out on this ball, dribbling it down the field, passing it to her teammates, dodging opponents.

Her moment of peace is interrupted when a player tries to intercept her pass. She grins, dribbling out of the way and kicking the ball hard into the player's face. 

The coach blows the whistle. “Great practice, everybody!”

Practice over. Jinx tosses the ball aside. She rubs her eyes with the heel of her hands, a headache thudding against her skull. She bends forward to grab her water bottle from the edge of the field, taking generous swigs from the bottle.

Jinx is the captain of her high school's soccer team. She's good—really good. She has quick feet and a mean kick, and she's scored a lot of points for the team. In games, however… Jinx is aggressive. She kicks hard. She kicks fast. She kicks a lot. She does not pull her punches when it comes to her opponents.

She's halfway done guzzling water when a voice interrupts her.

“Hey there, girlie.”

Jinx pauses, swallowing the last of the water in her bottle. She glances up at you, watching you approach her as you shove your hands into your pockets.

“How ya doin'?” 

“Sweating like a pig actually,” she replies, pulling out a small towel and wiping her face. “And yourself?”

You hum, rocking back and forth on your feet. “I’m good. Just thought I'd come and chat with our wonderful captain.”

Jinx grumbles as she slings the towel over her shoulder.

“That was quite a performance out there,” you continue, raising a hand to give her a slow clap. “You were brutal today. Worse than usual, not-gonna-lie.”

Gathering her stuff, Jinx zips up her bag, slings it across one shoulder, then strides past you.

“Hey,” you say, quickly catching up to her. “Where are you going?”

“Where do you think, genius? I'm leaving.”

You huff, following her as she marches out of the soccer field. “Pick you up on Friday, then.”

Jinx makes a face at that. “Oh, right, Friday,” she mimics. “Uh-huh.”

You cock a smirk. “Well, the night I take you places you've never been before.”

“Like where? The 7-Eleven on Broadway?”

“Ha, very funny.” You shake your head. “And actually, no, smartass.”

“Do you even know me?” she asks, not slowing her pace.

You hurry to keep up and shrug. “Yeah, we have the same class on science.”

She stops in her tracks and turns to look at you, eyes flitting up and down, up and down. Once, twice, three times. “You're the one that never shows up in Mr. Viktor's class?”

“Hey, to be fair,” you say, putting your hands up. “That's an 8 a.m. class. No one shows up for an 8 a.m. class at ass o'clock in the morning.”

Her expression remains unamused as she shifts her bag's backpack strap further off her shoulder. “Except you're the only one who never shows up. You have the same attendance rate as Mr. Blitzcrank,” she tells you, turning back around to start walking. “Which is absolutely none.”

“What can I say?” You chuckle, jogging to catch up to her again. “I'm very talented. Gifted, even.”

She mutters something under her breath that sounds suspiciously like “Talented at being an idiot, more like.”

“Hey, I heard that.”

“Good,” she says over her shoulder. “Maybe don’t try to impress me with your shitty grades and your non-existent attendance record next time, then.” Without a second glance, she continues walking, leaving you behind.

“Ouch!” you exclaim. “Rude, by the way!” you shout at her, and you see a flash of a smile over her features.

—

Jinx stands at her locker, gathering her books—a variety of books with names like Introduction to Rocketry, Engineering and Architecture, Chemistry Vol. 3: Chemical Reactions, Organic and Inorganic Compounds and Mixtures, and a few other engineering books, all with worn spines and yellow pages.

“Hey,” you greet.

She doesn't even glance at you as she continues sorting through her books, shoving what she doesn't need aside with a flick of her wrist.

“You hate me, don't you?” you ask, leaning against the locker beside her.

She gives you a side glance but doesn't fully look away from her locker. “What are you, five?” she asks. “I don't really care enough about you to hate you.”

“Rude.”

“It's the truth. As far as I'm concerned, you're better than a mosquito,” she says, continuing with sorting through her locker. “Annoying, but not something worth paying attention to.”

“Mosquito, really?”

She slams her locker shut and locks it. She turns to look at you, adjusting her backpack straps on her shoulders—a backpack that is covered in various patches and colorful pins. “What exactly do you want?”

“Spend Dollar Night at the track with me.”

She arches one eyebrow. “And why the hell would I do that?”

“Come on, the ponies, the flat beer... you with money in your eyes, me with my hand on your ass…”

“You covered in my vomit,” she cuts you off. “That's what's going to happen. If I go within ten feet of whatever greasy-ass food joint and cheap liquor you're going to take me to.”

“Damn, you're feisty. I kinda like that.”

She scowls at your words. “And you're annoying. I kinda despise that.”

“Ouch,” you mock. “And you're a bit more than feisty. You're like... feisty on steroids. Are you always like this?”

Her scowl deepens, and in one second, she suddenly has one of your arms twisted behind your back and pinned to your torso.

She leans forward, her face so close to yours. “Maybe, if you stopped annoying me,” she whispers. “I'd stop acting like this.”

You flinch, letting out a low hiss. “Ow, ow-” You try to pull away from her grip, but she only tightens it. “Ow, okay, I get it—let go, let go!” 

She holds you still for a moment longer before roughly releasing her grip. You stagger forward, rubbing the spot where her hand had been. “What-” you gasp “-the hell was that for?”

“Consider it a learning experience, dipshit,”  she snaps, before stalking off, her long blue braid swinging behind her.

“You can't just-” you start to call after her, but she's already halfway down the hall. You huff rubbing your sore arm. 

Yep. Jinx is as prickly as a cactus. This is gonna be harder than you thought.

—

“She's a freaking Ronda Rousey,” you mutter into the phone, massaging your throbbing arm. “She damn near twisted my arm off!”

“Jinx? Did she hurt you?”

“Just my dignity.”

You hear Cait chuckle faintly. “I'll take that to mean it didn't go very well?”

“You could say that,” you grumble. “She's difficult.” You watch your clothes spin around in the washing machine. “I think this may take longer than you think, Cait. Waaay longer.”

“I can't just flirt my way through this,” you go on, moving to grab one of the nearby magazines to distract yourself. “She's smart, witty, and sassy—the whole package. Very pretty, too. But she's rude.” You shift your phone to fit between your shoulder and ear.

“Rude,” you stress again, flipping to a magazine page with random trivia questions on it. “Who the hell is rude these days? It's all sugarcoating, bullshit, and fake smiles.” You glance idly at the question titled 'How Compatible Are You with Your Ideal Partner?'. You scoff, turning the page. “She's downright ruthless.”

“Have you even tried asking her out?”

“Hell yes I have. I even tried asking her to go to Dollar Night at the track.”

“You tried asking her to go to the race track?”

“You don't think she's a fan of ponies and alcohol?” you reply, grinning.

“I think she's a fan of punching you in the face.”

“Yeah, she did not like that idea.”

There's a pause on the line.

“Okay, I'll admit that wasn't the smoothest plan.”

“Or smartest,” Cait interjects. “Anyway, are you reading a magazine right now?”

“I'm at the laundromat.”

“And you're reading a magazine.”

“To pass the time,” you justify.

“Mhm.”

“I'm boooored.” You set the magazine down on a nearby chair, turning back to watch your clothes spin around. “And I'm tired of watching my clothes spin around. It's boring. I haven't had a good date in ages.” You move to rest your head against the glass. “I need something interesting. Someone interesting.”

Your eyes move across the storefronts and streets outside of the laundromat.

Wait… It can't be...

But, yes.

Yes it is. It's Jinx's car.

Your gaze focuses on the shiny blue vehicle before shifting to Jinx, who gets out of the car and walks over to a nearby music store just down the road.

You hear Caitlyn's muffled voice. “Did you hear anything I just said?”

“Yeah, Cait, I heard you,” you lie, taking your eyes off her car to turn your attention back to the washing machine and your phone. “Uh, I'll call you back. I think I just saw Jinx.”

—

Jinx pushes the entrance door open, juggling a small bag of CDs in one hand and rifling through her purse in the other. Her lips form a small 'o' when she finally pulls her keys out...

...and looks up to see you sitting on the hood of her car. She groans to herself.

“Nice ride. Vintage fenders.” You turn around to face her, leaning back against the hood.

Jinx stops a few feet away from you, shifting the bag of CDs to the other hand. “Are you following me?”

“Nah,” you shrug. “I was at the laundromat,” you pause, gesturing to the building in front of the store she just walked out of. “Saw your car. Thought I'd say hi.”

“Hi,” she grumbles.

Jinx walks over to her car, but you quickly stand ahead of her, placing yourself between her and her vehicle. “You're not afraid of me, are you?”

“Why would I be afraid of you?” she retorts, her nose wrinkling.

“Some people are,” you reply. 

“I'm not.” “Maybe you're not afraid of me… but I bet you've thought about me naked.” You smirk, taking the time to wink at her.

“Am I that transparent?” she mutters. “I want you... I need you... Oh, baby, oh baby.” Jinx rolls her eyes dramatically as she tries to step around you, but you shift your body to block her path again.

“Now, don't ignore me,” you tease.

“Let me pass, I have places to be,” Jinx says irritably, trying to step around you for the third time, only for you to once again move and block her.

“Come on now,” you urge. “Just a few minutes of your time.”

“You're being a pest,” she complains. “What do you want?”

“Just a little bit of your time, that's all,” you answer, holding your hands up in surrender before resting them back on the car. “C'mon. You don't have anything better to do anyway, right?”

“Piss off,” Jinx snaps, reaching out and grabbing the handle. The door swings open, throwing you off balance and causing you to topple forward.

Jinx throws the bag into the passenger seat, slams the door shut, and starts the car. She doesn't hesitate to throw the car in reverse, and you have to lunge out of the way to avoid being hit.

RUDE! You scowl in Jinx's direction, watching her drive away. With a sigh, you reach into your pocket and grab your phone, heading back into the laundromat. You begin to dial Caitlyn's number.

The phone only rings once before it's picked up immediately. “Well? what happened?” she starts without any sort of introduction.

“I just upped my price,” you declare.

“What?”

“200 dollars a date.” You stand your ground. “In advance.”

“And why are you increasing the price?”

You sigh heavily, rubbing your forehead. “I told you she's difficult,” you remind her. “She's prickly, short-tempered, and violent,” you explain. “I'm increasing my price because I'm taking a hell of a lot more risk dealing with her.”

“Forget it.”

“Forget her sister, then.”

Silence falls for a heartbeat. Then, reluctantly, she grunts. “Fine. 200 dollars a date. But I want results.”

“No promises,” you warn her. “And first things first, we need to find some way to make Jinx actually want to go on a date with me. How well do you know her?”

Caitlyn hums. “She's Vi's sister, so we have some, ah…” She searches for the correct word. “History,” she finishes awkwardly. “But I'm not an expert on Jinx's inner workings, if that's what you're asking.”

“Great.” That really wasn't the answer you were hoping for. How was it that Caitlyn was apparently able to make this plan without knowing anything about Jinx? “Do you think Vi would have anything?”

“...Maybe,” she responds slowly. “I could probably ask Vi.” She pauses. “Actually,” Caitlyn continues. “I might know someone who... might know Jinx pretty well.”

“Who?”

“Ever heard of a kid named Ekko?”

—

He glances over his shoulder at you, a paintbrush in hand. “What do you want?”

After a bit of searching, you're able to find Ekko at his usual spot—painting the empty space on the school wall. Some of your friends mentioned that he usually hung out here during free periods.

“I want to know about your friend... Jinx.”

Ekko rolls his eyes, resuming his painting. “Yeah, sure, stranger I don’t even know.”

You huff in annoyance. “Alright, listen,” you begin. “I'm not here to cause trouble, or gossip, or any of that. I…” you pause, shifting uncomfortably. “I'm trying to ask Jinx out on a date,” you explain. “So I thought you might be able to help me.”

That makes Ekko pause. He blinks slowly, slowly glancing back over his shoulder at you. “…You’re shitting me, right?”

“I'm not,” you insist. “I'm being serious, alright? and I'm not getting into some of the details, but I…” you pause awkwardly. “I kind of need this date to happen.”

“You need this date?” Ekko echoes, staring at you. “The hell does that mean?”

“I mean,” you reply, avoiding direct eye contact. “I just need it to happen, and for reasons I'm not going to disclose,” you add. “I need it to go really well. You get me?”

Ekko scoffs but nods his head. “Sounds like you're desperate or something.” He sets his brush down, turning around to face you. “Why Jinx, anyway?”

“I…” you start, not really sure how to explain this to Ekko without spilling every detail. “Let's just say my reasons are my own.”

“Hm.” He studies you up and down. “First off, who the hell even are you? how do I know you're not some creep trying to take advantage of Jinx?”

You open your mouth to defend yourself, but then close it and sigh. “Okay, you have a point,” you admit. “But listen,” you soothe. “I'm not a creep. I'm a senior student, like you and Jinx. I want to ask Jinx on a date, and no one really knows her all that well, so I thought you could help me because she's your friend-”

Ekko shakes his head, picking up the brush once again. “Nah we're not that close anymore.” He gives you a sidelong glance. “Jinx and I used to be close friends a few years ago,” he explains, returning his attention to the painting. “But things between us… got complicated.”

Juicy. But that’s none of your business, and definitely not Ekko’s place to share. So you move on, clearing your throat. “Right. Um… Okay, so back to Jinx,” you begin. “You still know her better than most, right? you must have some good insight on her.”

“I don't know,” he replies slowly. “Yeah, I know a bunch of things about Jinx. But… honestly, there's just as much that I don’t know.” He starts painting again. “She changes her mind like… every five seconds. She's unpredictable. Reckless. Wild. Dangerous.”

“I'm not here to psychoanalyze Jinx,” you clarify. “I just need to know… how the hell to even talk to her one-on-one, without her throwing a pencil at me or something.”

Ekko snorts. “Oh, that's easy.” He glances at you through his eyelashes. “Good luck.”

—

“Of all the places you want to meet up, you chose here?”

You straighten up and glance over at Caitlyn, who's standing off to the side, looking around the place. She looks rather out of place here, especially compared to the other customers in the pub—greasy-looking old men, rough-looking teenagers dressed in leather and denim, and drunken bums hanging around the slots.

Caitlyn grimaces as another patron spits tobacco juice to the floor. “Gross…” she mutters, wrinkling her nose.

You shrug, taking a puff from your cigarette. “You're never late,” you reply. “And this place is never busy. Figured it would give us privacy.”

“Right.” Caitlyn takes a seat on a nearby stool, folding her legs neatly. “So… how's Ekko?”

You line up the cue ball to the 8, taking one last look down the table before glancing at Caitlyn. “Um… he's good,” you reply. “A bit unhelpful, but that's alright.”

You aim the cue ball at the 8 again and give it a good hard smack, watching it glide across the table. It hits the 8 ball, which rolls a few inches before stopping. Damn. You’re just off.

“What about you, how's Vi?” you ask, taking a drag from your cigarette and exhaling a billowing cloud of smoke. You set the pool stick down.

Caitlyn coughs, fanning her hand in front of her face to try and clear the smoke away from her lungs. It doesn't work very well. “First thing you should know...” She snatches the cigarette from your hand and drops it to the floor. “She hates smokers.” She stomps on the butt to snuff it out.

“So, you’re telling me that I'm a-” You make air quotations with your fingers. “-non-smoker.”

“For now, yes.”

“Alright, alright. No smoking, got it.” You lean your pool cue on the wall. “Happy?”

“Another thing…” She purses her lips, eyes flicking over your features. “Vi mentioned that Jinx… likes pretty girls.”

Silence.

“Are you telling me I'm not pretty?”

Caitlyn jumps as soon as the words leave your mouth. “N-no!” She gestures at you. “You’re pretty. Definitely pretty.”

“Well, that’s reassuring.”

Caitlyn reaches into her pocket, pulling out a thick sheet of paper with a few bullet points written on it. “Anyways… there’s more.” She glances over the list, then looks back up at you. “Jinx likes: …art, drawing, bombs, explosions, tinkering, sweets, plushies, dogs, punk music...” She continues reading down the list. “Dislikes: teachers, school, rules, authority figures, boredom, being told what to do, being ignored…” 

She shoves the list into your hands, and you stare down at the words written in neat, orderly rows. “That's everything that I could get out of Vi.”

A few likes and a bunch of dislikes—what an absolute nutcase.

You look back up at Caitlyn. “So what does that give me? am I supposed to… bribe her with art supplies, draw her a picture, give her some sweets, then blow up a building?”

“Have you ever been to The Last Drop?”

You respond with a nod. You've been there a few times... it's usually filled with shady people, but the alcohol is reasonably priced.

“Letters to Cleo will be playing there tomorrow night.” 

“No.”

“Come on, it's just one night-” Caitlyn coaxes.

“No.”

She gives you a nudge. “Just assail your ears for one night. It's her favorite band, after all.”

It's a stupid idea. Spending your free time in a bar, listening to some god-awful music? It's the perfect recipe for a terrible night.

But if it's what Jinx likes...  “Fine.”

“Atta girl,” Caitlyn grins, clearly satisfied. She pulls out her phone, glancing down at the time as her fingers dance over the screen. “Oh… and I'm throwing a party on Friday night,” she says, looking back up at you. “It's the perfect opportunity.”

You blink. “Opportunity for what?”

“For you to ask out Jinx, of course.”

“…I'll think about it.”

—

Your car pulls up to a stop out front, the engine making a low noise. You step out of the car and start walking towards the entrance when you notice Sevika standing outside.

Sevika looks up, and her lips stretch into a smirk as she sees you. “Ah, my friend,” she greets. “It’s been a while.”

You shake her hand. “It’s good to see you again, Sev.”

Sevika eyes you up, raising an eyebrow in surprise. “Didn't have you pegged for a fan,” she says. “Aren't they a bit too pre-teen belly-button ring for you?”

“Just a fan of a fan,” you reply. 

The door is slightly ajar, and you can faintly make out the music coming from inside.

“Did a blue-haired girl come in by chance?”

Sevika nods towards the door. “Just sent her through. She's with some other gal.”

You nod and head towards the entrance when Sevika calls out to you. “What happened to that girl you brought in last time?”

Ah, right. It has been a few months. “I dunno,” you reply with a shrug. “I just never called her again.”

Sevika chuckles and shakes her head. “That figures.”

You squeeze through the crowded floor and eventually find an open spot at the bar. The music from the stage is so loud you can feel the floor vibrating under your feet.

You flag down the bartender and place an order, then start idly scanning the crowd. You can make out a flash of blue hair, and your gaze lands on Jinx singing along to the chorus of the song.

You rest against the counter and watch Jinx dancing along to the music. She’s happy, and surprisingly, no “attitude” is present—not the usual scowls, or frowns, or cold looks.

Seeing her like this… giddy, with a wide smile and flushed face, makes you find yourself… smiling.

Huh. That’s... something.

—

Jinx, who is thisclose to having her eardrums explode, yells at the top of her lungs, “I NEED AGUA!”

“Sorry, what?” Lux yells over the music.

“I need agua!” Jinx yells again.

“Agua?”

Jinx nods and points to the bar.

“Alright!” Lux yells, but Jinx is already pushing past her through the crowd.

Jinx manages to reach the bar and signals for the bartender. She glances around as she waits, her eyes landing on you a few feet away. 

Shiiit.

Before she can catch your eyes, you look at a random patron nearby, pretending to be looking at something else.

The bartender walks up to Jinx, shouting over the music. “What can I get for you?”

“Two waters,” she responds, casting a glance back in your direction only to find you completely focused on the stage.

The bartender brings out a pair of water bottles from the cooler and sets them on the counter. Jinx fishes out some change and pays, then grabs the water bottles.

She approaches from behind and raps a knuckle on your shoulder. “If you're planning on asking me out again, you might as well do it already.”

Playing dumb, you gesture back at the stage. “Do you mind? you're kind of ruining it for me.”

Jinx seethes, but stays where she is. “You're not surrounded by your usual cloud of smoke.”

The music dies down for a while to give the band a rest, so you no longer have to yell over the music. You turn to face her. “I know. I quit.”

“You... did?” Jinx gives you a weird look, trying to figure out your angle here. “Are you feeling alright?”

That's a pretty fair question, to be honest, because for once in your life, you're actively not trying to flirt with someone.

What's even more weird is that Jinx is actually engaging with the conversation. Jinx moves closer to the stool, standing beside you. “Since when?”

You clear your throat, avoiding her gaze. “Since… yesterday.”

“Yesterday? you quit smoking just yesterday?”

“Just yesterday.”

Jinx looks you up and down. “Why?”

You look over at the band, who are currently changing out their gear. “Because... apparently they're bad for you,” you mumble. With a shrug, you gesture back towards the stage. “They're no Bikini Kill or the Raincoats,” you reply. “But they're alright.”

You step into the crowd, and Jinx is surprised enough to be momentarily stupefied. “Wait-” she sputters before following you. “You know who the Raincoats are?”

You stop in the middle of the crowd, spinning to face her. “Why? don't you?” you ask. “I saw how you were dancing out there. I’ve never seen you look like that...”

“I.. well, I-” she stutters, before clearing her throat and collecting herself. “Yeah, I do,” she replies. “I’m into grunge and punk and stuff. Ever heard of Nirvana?”

You scoff. “Of course. Who hasn’t?”

Jinx laughs, and you resist the urge to smile when you hear it. “Yeah, fair point. What about... Siouxsie and the Banshees?”

“Love them. But you can't tell me you don't know The Damned?”

Jinx's eyes light up at the mention of The Damned. “Hell yeah, they're awesome,” she exclaims, before frowning. “Wait, how do you know The Damned?”

You give yourself a pat on the back. Nailed it. “Excuse you, I have excellent taste in music,” you reply. “How do you know The Damned?”

“I'll have you know, I'm very into music,” she retorts. “I've got a collection of 1300 CDs. Mostly punk and grunge, but some 70s rock and other stuff.”

Her response is a pleasant surprise to you… and maybe attractive. But you squash that thought down because she's Jinx, and no way are you going to feel your heart flutter at anything this woman does.

You whistle. “Only 1,300? That's cute. I have almost 2,000.” 

“No way.” She shakes her head. “No WAY you have 2,000 CDs. You're bluffing.”

“I'm not,” you insist. “I've got 2,000 pieces of music in my home.”

“Damn. You got me beat, then.” She looks around the club, then looks back at you. “Anyway, I gotta-”

“Come to Caitlyn's party with me. Friday night,” you cut her off.

“-Why should I?” 

“-Because I guarantee you'll have a fantastic time.” 

She laughs at your persistence. “You never give up, do you?” she mutters before walking away through the large crowd.

“Was that a yes?” you yell after her.

Her only response is a middle finger held high in the air.

You cup your hands around your mouth. “I'll see you at 9:30 then!”

This is good. Not great, maybe, but not awful either. You didn't get kicked in the face for asking, so you're taking that as a win.

—

“How did it go?”

You tap your fingers on the steering wheel. “Hey, Cait…” you hesitate, glancing around at the empty street. “How much money does it take to buy 2,000 CDs?”

The line goes dead.

…

After a few minutes of silence, it rings again.

“You've got to be kidding me.”

[skelleste]

2024 Art Summary

A selection of art from the past year. You can find a little about each image below.

Happy New Year (Again!)

Just like last time, it's time for another self-indulgent end-of-year post. A lot of things happened and unfortunately I don't feel that I made as much art as I did last year. I got bombarded with people asking me for art trades when I opened them last winter and I still haven't done most of them. I'm used to only a few randos that I mostly turn down requesting them, but having a bunch of friends ask all at once was a bit unexpected. If you're still waiting, I haven't forgotten and will make it eventually. Unfortunately I have the "I shouldn't draw for myself until I do my owed art" mentality most of the time and it just results in doing absolutely nothing because, quite frankly, I often don't want to draw other characters more than I want to draw my own. I'm going to have to be extremely selective about art trades going forward. I also moved this year for the first time ever, and that threw a big wrench in the works. The reason I moved so soon was because my insane sister was moving back in. She threatened to poop in my brother's bed (she's 22) and threatened both of us with violence and my parents were like "yeah that's fine". So uh, yeah, goodbye to living that sweet, sweet, chimpanzee lifestyle. All of that aside, I still made plenty of things, and I'll talk about a few of them here.

January

Some of the last comic panels I worked on before the art trade fiasco put working on the comic to a halt for almost a whole year. These are sketches, but the whole page is done now, of course. This was probably the most time-consuming panel so far, as I had to draw an indoor scene with 9 characters (technically 10 if you count Scott twice). I'm not sure if any of the panels that I have yet to work on will surpass this one in amount of time needed. There's a reason I made this one of the first scenes on the laundry list.

February

The first art trade. I had the pleasure of drawing Mumbo, Jumbo, Balder, and Dash for Chalkrub. I don't feel too great about the background, with its wonky perspective and odd colors, but everyone seems to like how it turned out anyway. It's my third most popular piece of art on this whole site as of writing this.

March

I made this for no reason other than I wanted to draw something edgy for edgy's sake. It had been a while since I made any art of this nature, and Ferdinand is my go to OC for it. My taste in art is not the same as what I draw. I make what I do because it's more about the enjoyment of the process than the aesthetic appeal of the final piece. When I focus on personal aesthetic appeal, I end up not drawing for 9 months at a time because I hate injuring my hand on inking all the time. So if you're some edgy artist and ever wondered why the fuck a cartoon shitposter extraordinaire follows you, there you go.

April

Another art trade, this time for 888goober888 on DeviantArt. A perfect example of a classic case of the eternal false promise "yeah I'll just finish this detail and then be done." And then there's 3,000 brushstrokes worth of individual grass blades. Tee hee.

May

This was a painting I started, and then put down because it was awful to work on, and then I picked it back up weeks later and finished it. The miseries I suffer for not trusting the process. It was a backburner project for a backburner project, which is the website. This painting is now the homepage background, ready to greet all visitors to my nonsense.

June

Commission for Porcumoose. I get the standard array of OC types in my commissions, because every client wants something different from the last. This time I felt very fortunate to draw something I personally like, and I this was my favorite commission from the whole year. This is my way of saying to the public at large "Please pay me to draw more spooky shit please please please".

July

Art Fight month again. I was planning on attempting longest chain with a friend, but he fell ill and we cancelled that plan. I decided to do a slow art year instead, which means fewer attacks with higher quality. My personal favorite from fighting for Team Stardust was this attack, Osireon (a fanmade eeveelution) for Sqveel. Thank you to everyone who attacked me! I always appreciate every single one. Next year is the big 10 year, and I plan on making it special.

August

August always begins with a week-long break from art for me, simply to rest after Art Fight. I also had a week-long vacation shortly thereafter, so half of my month was already spoken for. I had also started the process of moving and lost even more time to that. I can't recall exactly what all I made during then because it was very little, but one of them was certainly catgirl Maudlin. Here she is in all her glory.

September

This is when I moved, and I did not have access to the internet on my computer for a little while. I also spent much of my available drawing time working on a commission, so this was another month where I made very little for myself and cannot recall what little there was. Scatterbrain pineapple is going to teach you French while I jog my memory with blunt force and drywall.

October

Alright, now we're talking. On a whim I decided to participate in Goretober, because I couldn't stop thinking of stupid slapstick ideas and I thought someone scrolling through the tag and seeing this stupid shit randomly in the mix was funny. I was correct. I have one last prompt that I'll get to when I get to it, but aside from that one, this was my favorite drawing from the season. I think I've raised the bar on my own cursed content.

November

After Goretober, I took a break from regular drawing and leaned in favor of website progress. I made a handful of long-needed art assets, animated a custom cursor, created directories for future comic releases, and more. There is still much more to do, but a lot of the necessary code is sorted out.

December

Fuck those art trades (respectfully). I'll do them when I do them. I started working on the comic again for the first time since last February and I've already got a few more pages done. I don't really publicly talk about the comic very much, and yet I'll have random people take interest in the characters, the site, the prospect of a comic coming into existence, etc. and so I should really get on that. As much as the trades have been delayed, this is a project that was started much earlier and honestly could've been done by now if I didn't have to live for so long with people who are blasé about abusing each other. It needs to be completed.

These are just a small selection of my artworks throughout the past year. If you would like to see more, then you can peruse the blog. It's been my goal to get the comic done for the last two years, and we're going on year 3 now. Same old, same old. You'll see more art from me soon. I hope your new year is fruitful and full of peace. See you in 2025.

2023 || 2022

[floral-and-fine]

Green and Silver

Prince Nuada Silverlance x fem reader

Fem reader x Adopted siblings Hellboy and Abe

A/n: Sooooo… this has been in my drafts for a little under 2 years 😅 and this week I was determined to just go ahead and finish it. It’s kinda long about 12,800 words and it’s kind of a slow burn. Also I gave the reader plant related powers. Enjoy!

Warnings: lemon and probably a lot of things that don’t go with canon

Summary: The reader is determined to help mediate the conflict between man and magical beings, through her efforts Nuada ends up falling for her.

Entering your old room, a smile graced your lips as you saw that all your plants were alive and well. Someone must have been caring for them in your absence, you thought as you stepped over the healthy vines and roots that had spread over the tile floors. At first you assumed it had been Abe, but seeing how overgrown some of the plants had become, it seemed more likely that Red had been the one watering them.

You worried your lip wondering if maybe he didn’t hate you after all?

Things have always been rocky between the two of you. Constantly butting heads since you were children, always seemingly on opposing sides on certain topics, fighting for father’s attention.

You had always suspected that there was a little jealousy as well. Unlike Red, you could blend in with everyone else, you weren’t forbidden from leaving the compound, or forced to live a life in hiding.

It all came to a boiling point when you made the decision to leave. He wouldn’t look at you when you said goodbye. When he had found out the night before while you were packing up what you could, he was furious and both of you said a lot of things in anger. You immediately regretted it right after.

You left fearing that Red would never speak to you again, but your abilities were better suited out there, not on missions hunting down paranormal enemies.

You wanted to help, really help. You wanted to bring forests back to life and assist in places that had been ravaged by wildfires and deforestation. Staying here felt like you were doing more harm than good.

To make matters worse, shortly after your departure, Liz admitted herself into the hospital and then father died. When you returned to mourn his death with your family, Red tore into you. He blamed you for all of it, claiming if you had been around none of it would have happened.

You hadn’t been back since then.

Looking around your room, you couldn’t help but notice how homesick you had become. So much of your life was spent in this compound. You never intended to be gone for so long.

Your room was designed similar to a greenhouse with a glass ceiling to let in plenty of sunlight. Various sized pots filled with plants and vibrant flower beds lined the walls. Right in the center of the room was a hammock where you used to take midday naps. Your old record player was still sitting on your desk collecting dust along with all your books and art supplies.

Your father had made sure that you, Abe, and Red had some space to yourselves that suited your needs. He always so thoughtful of your individual needs.

You picked up an old frame, wiping the dust away with your sleeve to reveal the photograph under the glass. Your fingers traced over the familiar faces smiling back at you.

You had truly missed them all.

“So,” a voice suddenly spoke up from the entrance of your room. “You really did come back.”

You spun around to see Red leaning against the door frame. You laid the picture back on your desk. “I saw the news… Hellboy is everywhere right now. Thought maybe I could help.”

You swallowed thickly as the two of you stared at each. God, you didn’t think it would be this weird and tense, but simply being in the same room didn’t feel right. You wished you knew what else to say to fix it, but you got the feeling he didn’t want to talk.

“Well guess that’s it, I just wanted to see it for myself,” he shrugged and turned away, heading back down the hall.

All you could do was watch, wondering if it would ever be like it used to.

…

“He spoke to me at least,” you sighed, shoulders slumping while you sat on the edge of Abe’s tank with your feet dangling in the water. “I honestly expected worse, another screaming match or something like that.”

Abe’s head bobbed in the water as he swam closer to you and noticed how your frown deepened, “And that makes you… more upset?”

You groaned, throwing your head back, “I know, I know, it sounds crazy, but if he had yelled and maybe even slammed a few doors too, it would’ve felt more normal, more like it used to be.”

Abe chuckled a little, “Yes, I suppose you’re right. The yelling would be far more familiar.”

It was true that you and Red growing up always seemed to be fighting or arguing. It was just the nature of your relationship while Abe and Professor Broom were the mediators. Which was why it was so unnerving to be treated like a stranger, so coldly, by the person you had come to think of as your brother.

“I’m glad Liz is back,” you added. “She’s always been good at keeping him more level headed.”

“Me too,” Abe nodded, carefully climbing out of his tank. “And I’m glad you're back as well.”

“Got somewhere to be?” You asked.

“Director Manning is bringing in someone new,” he explained. “I believe he wanted the entire team to be present for introductions.”

“Ah, I see.”

“You could join us, if you’d like,” Abe offered, putting on his goggles and breathing collar.

“I probably shouldn’t, I’m not officially back,” you sighed, rising to your feet. “Pretty sure the government still wants these types of things confidential.”

You walked with Abe down the stairs, your wet feet leaving behind dark footprints on the red carpet. You smiled at him as he left the room.

Without much else to do, you made yourself comfortable in the library. About an hour or so later, you were curled up in one of the arm chairs invested in a first edition copy of ‘The Time Machine.’

Immediately you perked up when you heard everyone bustling about and on the move.

“What’s going on?” You asked, setting your book aside and standing.

“We’re loading up,” Red stated without his usual enthusiasm. “To go on a goddamn wild goose chase,” he added with a scowl.

You furrowed your brow giving Abe and Liz a confused look.

“We’re going to the east end of the Brooklyn Bridge,” Liz explained while going in for a quick hug. “It’s good to see you,” she added.

You hugged her back. “The Troll Market…?” You questioned, putting it together. “Thought we gave up on that myth.”

You heard Red snort loudly, “Yeah, but this time will be different.” He rolled his eyes and shook his head as someone new approached you.

“Ah! You must be Ms. Y/n,” the strange figure said with a thick German accent. He was dressed in a suit that resembled vintage deep sea diving gear. “I am Dr. Kraus,” he introduced himself.

Your eyes widened for a second, realizing that there was no head or face beneath the helmet, just a strange mist. “Uh, yes, nice to meet you,” you half smiled.

“Will you be joining us?” He asked eagerly. “On the mission?”

Your eyes flickered to Red who seemed irritated but not completely against it.

“I suppose I could.”

“Fantastic,” Dr. Kraus clapped his hands. “I look forward to seeing your abilities for myself. I have read extensive dossiers on all of the team, including you,” the doctor explained. “Your powers seem quite… intriguing.”

“Why would you read my file?” You inquired. “No one knew I was coming back, and technically I might be here but I’m not with BPRD anymore.”

“Ah, yes, but you see I’ve heard stories about your missions from a good friend,” he explained. “So I asked for information that pertained to all of you.”

You looked at the doctor uneasy, before following the back of the group as they made their way to the hangar.

Arriving at the destination, agents filed out of vehicles and began prepping the area with practiced efficiency. Liz directed them where to install the cameras while Red and Abe discussed plans with Dr. Kraus. You tried your best to stay out of the way, simply resigning yourself to observe everyone else at work.

“Aren’t you going to go with them?” Liz asked as she grabbed the bird cage that held a little canary.

You shook your head, “I think it’s best if I stayed here. I don’t want to press my luck or step on any toes.”

Liz pursed her lips and nodded, “It’ll get better y’know, Red just needs time.”

“Yeah, I hope you’re right.” As much as you wanted to be part of the action, just like in the good old days, you knew Red already had enough on his plate as he unwillingly adjusted to Dr. Kraus’s lead.

“Help Manning keep an eye on things,” she instructed with a slight eye roll. “I’ll be back shortly.”

You looked back at Director Manning who was still completely astonished that the little old lady was actually a troll.

“What a hideous creature,” he muttered to himself, staring at the monitors. Eventually he peeled his eyes away and turned to look at you, seemingly forgetting what he was going to say as he saw you through the lenses of the Schufftein glasses.

You lifted your brow, “What? Do I have something on my face?”

“You’re… very glowy,” he answered, somewhat entranced.

You chuckled, “Thanks.”

His eyes followed the swirls of green that traveled along your figure like vines.

“Better keep watching the fragglewump,” you suggested with a small smirk.

“Yes, of course, you’re absolutely right,” he said, turning his chair back around.

You, Liz and Manning stayed behind, keeping an eye on surveillance. Over the radio, Red shared how amazing the troll market was. A part of you wished you had gone with them, but it was too late now. Maybe one day you’d be fortunate enough to return and see it for yourself.

With a heavy sigh Liz stood up and left the back of the truck.

“Everything alright?” You asked her, immediately joining her outside.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she muttered, fidgeting with her hair then her jacket.

“Liz,” you said gently, knowing her well enough to see that something was bothering her.

She rubbed her forehead and took a deep breath releasing it slowly. “I’m pregnant,” she admitted.

“Oh,” you blinked in surprise. “Oh wow, that’s huge!”

“Yeah, tell me about it. I still can’t believe it myself.”

“Who else knows?”

“Just you and Abe right now,” she answered, kicking some gravel away with her boot. “I can’t seem to find the right time to tell Red.”

The two of you stood side by side watching cars and pedestrians passing just taking in the moment. You couldn’t be happier for Liz and Red. Your small family was getting a little bigger which was also a comforting thought especially after so much loss.

“Ah!” You suddenly shouted, unintentionally scaring Liz in the process as you started jumping beside her. “I’m going to be an aunt!”

She laughed, “Yeah, I guess you will be. I hadn’t really thought about things like that.”

“I’m so excited! We’re all going to love this kid!” You promised.

After making sure she was good, you returned to the truck giving Liz some space, not to mention you knew leaving Manning alone wasn’t the best idea. He wasn’t what anyone would call helpful in an actual crisis.

…

The BPRD truck rocked and swayed as the ground below started to rumble.

Curious if it was just a tremor, Liz opened the doors to the truck, Director Manning stepped back as you and Liz walked out onto the street to see what was going on.

For a brief second everything stilled, everyone’s eyes searched the surrounding area collectively wondering if it was over. Then suddenly the road abruptly cracked like an egg with large thick vines breaking free.

Automatically you recognized that the creature was plant like, leaves covered its body and its head reminded you of a closed flower bud. For a moment you simply took it in, amazed that such a creature existed.

People began screaming and fleeing from their vehicles as the green monster further sprouted from the ground almost resembling a beanstalk.

You remained entranced as strangers ran past you, until Red retrieved a large gun affectionately nicknamed ‘Big Baby’ from the truck's armory.

“Wait! Please!” You pleaded, placing a hand on Red’s arm. “Let me try to reason with it.”

“Are you out of your mind? Look at that thing!” Director Manning argued from the back of the truck.

You ignored him, instead looking at Hellboy for permission.

“You got 2 minutes, Green,” Red instructed as he continued to load his gun. “After that, I’m going in for the kill.”

You stared up at the massive creature, its tentacle-like limbs thrashing around it. The green glow from its center and head was similar to your own, you wondered if it was like you? Would you be able to control it like other plants even though it was sentient?

It was funny to think that you might have more in common with this forest god than you did with anyone else on the planet.

You shrugged off your sweater, dropping it to the ground. Your eyes began to glow as you slowly approached the creature with your hand outstretched. Swirls of glimmering green light traveled down your arms to your palms.

Its flesh felt smooth, waxy, and cold but there was also a subtle pulse beating beneath your hand. Looking up at what you believed was its face, you met its glowing eyes which were warm and very much alive.

The beast howled, using one of its long tendrils to swat a helicopter away.

“Please stop,” you begged. “I don’t want them to hurt you.”

Another tendril came slamming down too close for comfort, successfully smashing a car flat.

“Listen!” You yelled at it. “They’ll kill you.”

You could sense its rage and its fear as it screeched and wailed, thrashing about. It didn’t recognize this world. Where were the tall trees, the giants, the other gods?

“The world has changed,” you said softly. “I’m sorry, this isn’t your world anymore.”

Its body slumped as it whined at you, head tilting to the side.

“It’ll be alright.” You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. “It’s time for you to rest,” you urged.

The creature’s glowing eyes dimmed as it started to fold in upon itself slowly, almost as if it was falling asleep. It started to shrink back down almost in the same fashion when it sprang from the earth, until finally it was a small seed again,

You crumpled to your knees, your own soft green glow fading as the danger seemed to pass. Examining the still crowded street, you noted the damage it caused, it was severe but it could’ve been much worse. A large breach remained in the ground, the cars that were the closest were crumpled like cans.

You cupped the seed in your palm. It was frightening to think that all you had to do was add some water to grow a huge plant monster from this little bean.

“You didn’t destroy the forest god,” the princess said in complete awe, kneeling beside you.

“I couldn’t let it be killed,” you explained, still admiring the seed. “I’ve never seen anything so terrifying yet so beautiful before.”

“That’s quite accurate,” she smiled. “The gods were the Givers of Life and the Destroyers.”

You looked over your shoulder, all the rest of the team and the other FBI agents were busy dealing with crowd control.

You turned towards Princess Nuala offering her the seed.“Here, you probably know more about it than any of us do,” you said, but in all honesty, you just didn’t want it to end up in Director Manning’s hands or the FBI’s. The BPRD already had enough trophies.

The princess looked at you full of curiosity, carefully accepting it and tucking it away in her dress. “Thank you.”

You stood up and joined the rest of the group.

Dr. Kraus informed you that the casualties were minimal considering all the destruction caused in such a short period of time.

Your eyes met Red’s who gave you a nod of approval before you all departed to return home.

…

“Hello, my lovelies,” you greeted your plants as you shuffled into your room after a long hot shower. Dressed in a long silk robe, you strolled past all your ferns and flowers, reaching around to turn on the irrigation system near the wall. “There we go,” you hummed as water slowly started to trickle out.

Stretching your arms over your head, you approached your hammock and climbed in, reclining on your back with one of your legs hanging off. Using your foot, you pushed it against the floor, gently rocking yourself.

Laying there, you admired the night sky, watching thin wispy clouds floating across the full moon. Your mind drifted back to the forest god, Nuala had mentioned that it was the last of its kind. You started imagining a world full of magical beings like that, it seemed wondrous. Perhaps you made the right choice coming back. You were happy that you saved it.

You squinted once you realized you were absentmindedly humming along to a Barry Manilow song. Swinging your leg over the edge of the hammock, you sat up. The music seemed to be coming from below.

Your feet softly padded through your room towards the door, wondering who in the world was blaring ‘Can’t Smile Without You’ this late at night.

Focused on the music you allowed it to lead you through the halls. You and Red almost ran into each other, stopping outside the golden doors. You both stared awkwardly at each other.

He had an open can of Tecate in one hand and the rest of the six-pack in the other. He sniffed, eyes darting to the door, “Wanna see what the hell is going on in there?”

You nodded, but as soon as he pushed the large doors open the music changed, going from Barry Manilow to a classical piece.

“Ah,” Abe said, jumping a little, clearly not expecting the sudden intrusion. “Hello Red and y/n, you’re both up late.”

“What are you listening to?” Red grumbled.

“Oh, uh, Vivaldi,” Abe answered quickly. “Il cimento dell’armonia.”

You narrowed your eyes and shook your head, “Don’t play dumb. I distinctly recall hearing Manilow just a few seconds ago.”

“Not here, I’m afraid,” Abe said sheepishly.

“Hey,” Red said accusingly, pointing at Abe while stumbling forward. “What’s that?”

“It’s just a remote.”

Red’s eyes moved to Abe’s other hand.

“Oh, this, yes…” Abe mumbled revealing the CD case.

You peeked over Red’s shoulder, reading the title out loud, “Popular Love Songs?”

You and Red had completely different reactions as it dawned on you both.

“You fell for the Princess?” You and him asked at the same time. Red appeared to be in total disbelief while you looked utterly delighted.

Abe sat on the steps in front of the fireplace as he delved into the details of his growing crush. Both you and Red joined him, sitting by his sides.

“You’re in love,” Red announced. “Have a beer.”

Abe tried to politely decline but Red wasn’t having it, practically thrusting the can into Abe’s hand.

Red sighed, freeing another beer from the plastic rings and looked at you, “And well, you’re back, so you get one too.”

You graciously accepted Red’s version of an olive branch, cracking open the can and taking a sip.

“So what track?” he asked, returning to the reason that brought the three of you together tonight.

“Eight,” Abe answered, then explained his love and connection to this particular song. Lifting the remote, he clicked a button and ‘Can’t Smile Without You’ began to play again.

“I wish father were here,” Red confessed, taking another drink of his beer. “He’d know what to tell you… us.”

The sentiment was one you all shared. Each of you were facing new problems, dealing with complicated feelings of loss and love. Professor Broom always looked out for the three of you, offering advice and guiding with a gentle hand.

Abe began to sway with the music, singing along with the lyrics. You weren’t sure if it was the beer or the music, but soon you and Red both joined in belting with him.

You couldn’t quite recall the last time the three of you hung out like this. Red, Blue, and Green back together again, it felt right.

Eventually you parted ways, the boys leaving to get more beer and talk about their girl troubles while you retreated back to your room. Your heart and mind felt lighter now, your relationship with Red seemed to be on the mend, relieving you of a weight that had been crushing your spirit for too long.

…

“How did they stop it?” Nuada asked as he flipped through another book before tossing it aside. “How were they able to return the forest god to a seed?”

Nuala's eyes briefly darted to the red emergency button on the wall before answering her brother.

“One of them was able to… speak to it.” She wasn’t sure if that’s exactly how it worked, it seemed more as though you had willed it back into its dormant form. It was a curious thing, you like so many of the others she had encountered here were so strange and unique, to be able to have control of such a powerful and ancient being was truly impressive.

Nuada snapped another book shut, “They spoke to it?”

“I’m not sure how else to describe it,” she said, shrugging her shoulders slightly.

“Where is it now?” Nuada pressed.

“I have it.”

“They returned it to you?” He asked skeptically, furrowing his brow.

Nuala nodded, reaching into a pocket of her dress and revealing the green seed. “They trust me,” she responded. “They have been… better than I expected, kind and honest.”

Nuada scoffed, casting aside another book. “Do not do this, it won’t work,” he turned his head away, sneering. “I will never trust their kind or the ones that help them.” He carelessly grabbed another book before dropping it on the floor with the others.

“I’m simply telling you what happened,” she argued. “The one who saved the forest god didn’t want to see it destroyed, she said it was beautiful.”

Nuada paused, fingers resting on the spine of another book, deep down he was glad that the elemental wasn’t killed. It was, unfortunately, the last of its kind, perhaps using it was selfish of him. If they would have killed it instead, its death would have weighed heavily upon him. An entire race would have been completely eradicated and he would’ve been the culprit who ordered the last one to die.

That was the last thing he wanted, there was already so little of his world left to save. When he closed his eyes he could still picture the world as it was, how it should be.

“Perhaps you can give these people a chance,” Nuala reasoned.

“No,” Nuada said sharply. “The Golden Army is the only way.” He had already sacrificed too much to give up now, killed his own father, lost his good friend, Mr. Wink.

Upon hearing the conviction in her brother’s voice, she knew that her words could not sway him without any other options, Nuala quickly pressed the emergency button.

…

You were laying on your bed, warm and relaxed, your eyelids heavy and your body drained. You hazily dreamt about giant magnificent creatures and exploring the wonders within the troll market. Red had mentioned how incredible it was, how every creature, no matter how strange, walked freely without stares or causing a commotion.

Ever since you were little, you found yourself longing for a place that encapsulated the best of both worlds, a place that balanced the ordinary and the fantastical. It was an intangible dream that slipped through your fingers like dust or smoke.

Suddenly alarms began to blare and red lights above flashed. You sprang up and scrambled out of bed, almost tripping on your silk robe as you ran towards the door.

But you stopped midstep, taking a second to think things through. Swiftly turning back around you opted to use the exit that led straight to the library.

You ran down the narrow spiral staircase, taking two steps at a time, hoping you wouldn’t be too late.

Everything seemed to stop when you stumbled down the steps past Abe’s tank and saw the scene unfold before you, a white haired man with a silver spear was preparing to strike while Red was distracted.

You acted without thinking, grabbing the man from behind, wrapping your arms around his waist tightly as you tried with all your might to hold him back. All you knew was that you had to stop this man from killing your brother.

Your fingers curled over his chest and you planted your feet firmly on the floor, you acted as an anchor using all your weight against him.

Vines sprouted from your hands, they twisted around his arms curling around his fingers right before the spear could plunge into Red’s chest.

Nuada’s eyes went wide, he couldn’t budge. He felt the warmth of your person pressed against him. Looking down at your hands on his chest and waist, his eyes followed the vines. He could barely wiggle his pinky finger within the fabricated restraints.

As he recovered from his stupor, he found himself amused by such a brazen tactic. He could feel your heart pounding in your chest and your breath tickling his neck.

It was a desperate move but effective.The prince suspected that you could keep him bound like this with ease if you chose.

Abe quickly tended to the Princess. While Red rose to his feet and dusted himself off. Confidently he approached Nuada, his glare was full of fury while his stone hand curled into a tight fist by his side.

The men didn’t exchange a single word as they stared at each other. Eventually, Red turned his attention to you. “You did good, Green.”

…

With his arms now bound behind his back, Nuada sat silently in an interrogation room. His face was expressionless like a stone statue. Even with his current status as a prisoner, there was an air of superiority.

He stared at you coolly from across the table. His yellow eyes had already analyzed his surroundings and now were focused on you.

You were different from the Red one, far less aggressive with calm eyes and a peaceful presence. He doubted the demon would have sat in silence as patiently as you had.

“I get it, you know,” you started quietly. “That’s what makes this whole situation so complicated, because your motivations make sense, they’re relatable wanting to protect your people, your way of life.”

Nuada curled his lips in disdain, he didn’t want your sympathies, pity, or your ‘understanding.’

“We aren’t blind to the blight you and your people face,” you pointed out. “All fae folk deserve better. If only we-“

“How would you know?” He seethed, interrupting you. “Your world isn’t the one that’s vanishing!”

You shook your head, “Like my brother, I’m caught between worlds, while I’ve come to love humanity for what it is, my true home is in nature… and with that I’ve had to bear witness to mankind’s abuse to the natural world-”

You closed your eyes, anger from years past resurfacing. You had dealt with your own internal struggle, hoping to find a balance between the man made world and the natural world.

“If I could I would change the hearts of man, make them all see what’s truly important, what’s really at stake here.”

Nuada narrowed his eyes. “So…” he drawled, putting the pieces together. “You’re the one that spared the forest god.”

“And you’re the one that sent it to die for your cause,” you retorted, more heatedly than you intended.

He looked guilty for an instant, eyes downcasted, “My people, our way of life, this is the only way I can save them… the truce between mankind and elves has only brought us loss.”

“If I’ve learned anything,” you sighed. “It’s that you can’t blame humans for their nature, not when you have lived for thousands of years, while a human life is so quick and fleeting,” you explained. “With such little time, it makes sense that they’d act with the greed and selfishness of a child. Even in old age they are practically children.”

“You speak as though you are not human,” Nuada noted.

You glanced at your hands, anyone who simply looked at you would assume that you were human just like them, but you weren’t and unfortunately you didn’t have any answers as to what you were or how you came to be.

“I don’t know what I am,” you said without divulging any additional information.

You leaned forward on the table. “Give us a chance to help, to find another way, no more lives lost… no more races or species extinguished.”

He sighed, his shoulders slumping, not in defeat but in exhaustion. All he wanted was to save his people, and somehow that goal became twisted and sour.

“What do you propose?” He asked, sounding broken. “My people have given up, the Golden Army was the single source of hope that I had clung to… I see no other way.”

“We change the truce,” you suggested. “We create a way for both species- for all species to thrive.”

Nuada’s eyes flickered to yours, still not convinced, “You make it sound so simple.”

…

“Prince Nuada has made it clear,” Manning shared exasperatedly. “He won’t work with anyone else but you.”

You could feel the blame and judgment radiating from Manning, he didn’t like this deal and neither did his superiors, but the prince’s threat of the Golden Army was still very real. Rocking the boat, especially after your ‘negotiations’ would surely lead to war.

Manning leaned back in his chair, “We could use this to our advantage,” he considered. “You can gain his trust… and simply take the crown pieces when he least expects it.”

You immediately rose to your feet. “Ugh, I can’t believe you people sometimes, always looking for an easy way out, instead of doing what is actually right,” you spat. “Maybe the prince has a point…”

“Oh come on now agent-”

“I’m not an agent,” you reminded him, eyes narrowed. “I don’t follow your orders or your commands. I’m going to do what’s right.”

You stared daggers at the man, not hiding your hostility towards him, “They had the opportunity to eliminate humanity a millennia ago, instead of proving them right, maybe we should focus on proving them wrong… the truce needs to change.”

“I agree with Ms. Y/n,” Dr. Kraus said. “I’ll contact my superiors at Interpol. We should all work together on this.”

You excused yourself from the meeting, feeling frustrated and angry despite Dr. Kraus’s support. No wonder Nuada had no hope, that the only solution he could see was eradicating all of humanity.

Even you had to remind yourself that not every single person was like Manning. Somehow, someway, you wanted to bring all magical beings out of the shadows, give them a place where they could exist, where they could strive.

You threw open the doors to the library, ready to share all your grievances with Abe but unfortunately he wasn’t inside. Instead you found Red.

“Hey,” he started slightly startled by your abrupt entrance.

“Hey,” you muttered back, your fists still tightly clenched by your side.

“So, it looks like the meeting went well,” he joked, noting your tense body language. He knew it took a lot to make you this mad, but once you were, it was like setting off a bomb.

You rolled your eyes and began pacing the room. “I can’t believe those idiots are in charge!”

He nodded, all too familiar with it. He missed the days when father was around to handle all the administrative crap.

“They’re all absolute imbeciles, literally the worst!” You continued to rant. “I hate all the red tape and bureaucratic bullshit… Can you believe that Manning suggested I try to steal the crown pieces? After all this? I manage to find a peaceful solution and he’d rather I betray the elves because it’s easier… the selfish bastard! I’m so glad I left!”

You stopped in your tracks and sighed, recalling how Red and Abe were practically stuck here, trapped into being part of the BPRD. “I’m sorry Red, I’m so sorry for leaving you and Abe here to deal with this alone.”

He shrugged, “y’know I’ve given it some thought and I figured if given the chance, if I could blend in like you, I’d probably would’ve left a long time ago.”

“Still,” you added, taking a seat next to him. “I wish things were different.”

For a while you and Red sat, sharing stories and memories of the good old days before drifting into a comfortable silence. Eventually, you retired to your room. Unsure what to expect over the next few weeks or months or however long this ‘mission’ took.

First things first, you’ll be accompanying Nuada back to his clan’s palace. Maybe you should start packing a bag, you wondered. It was strange, you had just arrived and now you were leaving again, at least Red wasn’t pissed at you this time. In fact, he had already agreed to keep watering your plants.

You stood there admiring your plant babies, thinking back to how you acquired most of them. Professor Broom would come home from some mission with a pleased look on his face as he gifted you a single seed from wherever he had been. Every time you were so eager to see what would grow, you loved them all as much as you loved your father.

A knock at your door snapped you out of your thoughts.

“Princess Nuala?” You asked, surprised to see her at your door. You stepped aside, allowing her into your room.

Her eyes lit up as she saw all the green. “Incredible,” she whispered, her fingers brushing over the delicate petals of a gardenia.

“Thank you,” you murmured, watching as she took in your little version of paradise.

“I heard that my brother has agreed to work with you,” she shared, redirecting her attention from all your plants to you.

“For now, at least,” you sighed, still feeling overwhelmed. “I’m pushing for the terms of the truce to be upheld as well as updated,” you added. “Magical beings need more, deserve more…”

Nuala smiled, “An ambitious plan, but I’m sure you’ll find support from our people.”

“I hope so. We’ll need all fae folk to be willing to give this a try.” Although in truth, what concerned you the most was making sure the officials of the BPRD held up their end of the deal.

“I believe you’re quite capable of accomplishing this. Abraham speaks highly of you,” she said.

“He’s a good brother that’s why,” you chuckled. “He has a lot more faith in me than I do.”

“The three of you are quite close,” Nuala noted.

You nodded, “We’ve always been there for each other, without them, without our adoptive father, we’d each be all alone.”

Nuala’s eyes returned to your exceptional garden. It reminded her of how the world used to be, back when her people lived in the forests and the wilds.

“Here, I want you to have this,” she said, holding out her piece of the crown.

Your eyes widened and you shook your head, “I can’t.”

Nuala held the piece out closer to you. “You were the one who convinced my brother to choose another path, you spared the life of an ancient being,” she explained. “I believe you’ve earned it.”

“I don’t feel right accepting it,” you muttered, eyeing the piece of gold in her hand.

“All the more reason for it to be in your care,” she countered.

Finally, you relented and accepted the crown piece, tucking it into your pocket until you could find a safer place for it. One thing was for sure, you wouldn’t be letting Manning know about this exchange.

“Will you be coming with us?” You asked the Princess.

She shook her head, “I’ll be staying here for now. Especially considering that your people still believe that I have the last crown piece.”

She gave you a knowing look, showing that she already understood that people like Manning couldn’t be trusted. “With me here, they’ll feel more… in control, I believe if I were to leave they’d assume I’d eventually betray them and help my brother awaken the Golden Army.”

…

Arriving at the palace it was nothing like what you pictured in your mind. You expected bright halls and lush gardens, but instead it was dark, gloomy, lifeless. You could practically feel the oppression outside these walls pushing in, the constant threat of humans looming over them.

Nuada didn’t exactly look happy to be back, his facial expression was rigid and tight. However, the feeling seemed mutual. The elves who were present for his homecoming didn’t receive him with open arms, in fact there was a wariness in the air as they kept their distance from the prince.

You could feel their cautious stares fall upon you as you stepped forward to introduce yourself. The silence was unnerving, you could hear your heart beating anxiously in your ears.

You exhaled slowly, trying your best to relax. “Hello, I’m y/n, I’m with the BPRD and we’re hoping to work with you and other fae folk in an effort to uphold the truce.”

Nuada sighed, then quickly spoke up, reiterating what you said in elvish or at least you hoped that’s what he did.

You mustered up your best smile and the rest of your confidence and continued to explain the plan, going into how you wanted to improve the life for all magical beings. You watched as their expressions changed, from anxious to curious. A few elves worked up the nerve to speak to Nuada, probably asking him questions about what transpired and if you could be trusted.

Your gaze moved upwards, watching discolored leaves fall. “What’s wrong with the leaves?” You asked yourself, but Nuada overheard you.

“The tree is dying,” he answered simply.

“Can I see it?”

Nuada hesitated, closing his eyes for a moment, before nodding. He gestured for you to follow him.

He walked at a fast pace making it difficult to keep up. As you struggled to follow him, the rest of the palace passed as a blur. Suddenly, he came to a halt at the entrance of a rather barren courtyard. Looking at what remained, you could tell it had once been a lush garden, full of wildflowers, ferns, and shrubs.

Despite Nuada being difficult to read, he seemed bothered by the state of the garden. His gaze was hard as he tried to look past the dead land as if he didn’t want to acknowledge just how bad it had gotten.

In the center was a magnificent old tree with a thick and tall trunk and sprawling branches. However, even from a distance, you could see the tree was sick, the bark was discolored and flaking. Some of the branches were brittle and dry. Just looking at it made your own bones ache.

“May I?” You asked quietly.

Nuada shrugged, approaching the tree with you.

One of the elves suddenly spoke up, sounding rather peeved that Nuada brought you here, but the prince was quick to put the elf back in his place, with a sharp and direct order.

You could sense the web of roots under your feet, they were desperately trying to keep the tree alive. You circled the wide tree trunk, dead leaves crunching with each step you took.

Rolling up your sleeves, thin green spirals appeared on your arms as the light moved towards your hands, making them glow. You pressed your palms to the trunk of the tree. Instantly, you felt what you could only describe as a thirst. Your powers felt like a cool spring as your energy bled into the tree.

After several silent moments, you lifted your hands from the tree.

Long thin branches grew and cascaded down like curtains, shielding you and Nuada within. You watched in awe as small green leaves fluttered down like rain underneath the canopy. The entire courtyard was revived, new grass and plants filled the once barren ground. Clusters of wild flowers bloomed around your feet and climbed up the trunk of the tree.

While you were distracted by the surrounding beauty, Nuada continued to watch you, his stare focused and determined. Quiet, with a hunter-like pace, he crept closer towards you.

He didn’t understand it, he didn’t understand you. It was like beholding a miracle.

You blinked in surprise when you realized how close Nuada was. His expression was unreadable as he observed your face, his own merely inches away from yours.

Your eyes widened as his hand rose towards your face. You gasped when his fingers lightly touched your hair, retrieving a single leaf that had landed on the crown of your head.

He held your gaze for a moment, his mouth opening slightly only to snap shut.

“Prince Nuada,” you said softly, somehow finding your voice. The leaf fell from his fingers landing gently on the grass.

But the moment was broken as the murmurs of the other elves grew closer, they spoke to one another in awe, examining your work closely.

Immediately, Nuada backed away.

A few elves that spoke English, eagerly engaged you in conversation. They were all obviously delighted with what you had done, it was as if you had revived their spirits along with that old tree.

Nuada followed behind as a group showed you around the rest of the palace. They discussed preparing a big feast for later in the evening to celebrate your arrival and the new parameters of the truce.

…

Lilting music filled the dining room as trays of food were brought out. Your eyes widened over all the options, each dish was executed artistically, looking more like artwork than food.

Nuada leaned towards you, filling your glass almost to the brim with a deep red wine. Then stood up and raised his own glass. All eyes were on him as he made a simple toast to new beginnings.

You noted a subtle change in his mood from when you first arrived. He was more relaxed now, conversing casually with his subjects as he ate. He was also unexpectedly attentive towards you, checking if you were alright, translating for you mid conversation when needed, and telling you about elven culture.

You suspected that he missed this, missed being a prince during his exile. It wasn’t that the hardened warrior side of him had vanished, instead another side of him had emerged. This side of him was charming, social, an ambassador capable of persuading even the most stubborn leaders.

It was quite refreshing to get this opportunity to laugh and speak with him and not worry about all the pressures you had been feeling all day.

After dinner, everyone began filing out, one of the servants stayed behind and offered to show you to your quarters, but Nuada dismissed them.

He led you out and towards one of the wings of the palace and up a grand staircase. “You did well today,” he commented as you walked a step behind him.

“Thank you.”

“In a few days we will be hosting officials representing the goblins and trolls in order to inform them of these changes.”

You nodded.

“Until then the palace is available to you, think of it as your home, free to explore and entertain yourself, I recommend visiting the library and the gardens.” He stopped outside of a room, opening the door and stepping aside to let you in.

Standing on opposite sides of the doorway, Nuada looked at you for a moment before adding, “Should you need anything feel free to ask, as your host, it’s the least I can do.”

You grinned at the formality of his words and the change in his behavior compared to your first encounter.

He lifted his brow, giving you a questioning look in return. “What?”

“Sorry,” you smiled wider. “Just didn’t think I’d get the opportunity to see you be so… accommodating.”

He rolled his eyes and turned away. “Goodnight,” he said while heading further down the hall to his own room.

…

You paced around the library, occasionally selecting a tome and perusing its contents before returning it. You were in desperate need of a distraction from how anxious you were feeling, but nothing seemed to work.

All morning the only thing you could think about was the meeting taking place later today. There was a lot of pressure to make all this work, pressures from the BPRD as well as hopeful expectations of the elves.

It was up to you to get the trolls and goblins on board with this plan. Despite how much faith people seemed to have in you, you never saw yourself cut out for all this diplomacy. Fortunately, Nuada would be there, he seemed to have a lot of experience with this sort of thing, and you were grateful for it.

“Lady y/n,” a servant called, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Yes?”

“It’s almost time for the summit,” she explained. “You should get dressed.”

“Oh, of course,” you nodded.

As you returned to your room, you found a sage green dress waiting for you on the bed. The dress had a similar shape and design to the ones Nuala wore with a lovely band of gold along the waist. Lifting it up, you noted the weight of it.

“How many layers does this dress have?” You wondered out loud, unsure how you were going to get it all on.

You did your best, struggling more than you’d like to admit, as you changed into the dress. You recalled all those movies that showed aristocratic women getting dressed and how they always had a servant around them to help, it made a lot more sense now.

You exited the dressing room and examined yourself in the mirror, fixing a few areas around the collar to show off the fine embroidery and checking your hair.

Nuada stood a few feet away from the doorway, taking a moment to admire you without you noticing. He was satisfied to see the color he picked suited you so well, and that the style of the dress .

Finally, he rapped his knuckles against the door alerting you of his presence.

You tilted your head blinking curiously when you noticed what he was wearing, it was a small change, but instead of his usual black and red ensemble, it was black and green, the same shade of green as your dress.

“It’s time to go,” he announced. “Our guests aren’t known for their patience.”

“Oh right,” you nodded, quickly following him out.

Nuada led the way, his hands clasped behind his back as you walked a few steps behind him. Without being asked, he slowed his pace, matching it to yours, his pace going from a brisk march to a casual stroll just for you.

“Any tips?” You asked him as you both stopped outside the thick oak doors.

He smirked, his eyes lighting up playfully compared to their usual seriousness, “Afraid they’ll be immune to your charms?”

“Charms?” You questioned, blinking. “I don’t believe my ‘charms’ have ever worked in my favor.”

“They were certainly effective on my people,” Nuada elaborated.

You laughed, “You’re confusing charm with skill, I believe I impressed them with my powers.”

Nuada shook his head, “It’s more than that, it’s the way you speak and act… you’re…” he paused, mulling over his next words carefully. “Endearing, genuine.”

You looked surprised at the compliment, “I didn’t know they felt that way.”

“That surprises you? Even after you won m-“ Nuada stopped himself from finishing that statement.

He cleared his throat, “Goblins like precious metals and gems, intricate devices and designs, and of course flattery. Trolls are not as bright as other creatures, they prefer honest loyal people who are clear with their intentions. Speak too fast or too complex, they’ll immediately distrust you.”

“Flattery and honesty, I can do that. Thank you,” You nodded, letting it all sink in as the doors slowly opened revealing the large throne room.

Nuada chuckled, “Are you sure you’re not royalty?” The prince smoothed his hands over his attire and pushed his shoulders back. The stern expression that you were most familiar with returning to his face.

“My friends,” Nuada greeted. “I am pleased to see you all here in good health.”

Trolls occupied one side of the room, while the goblins sat at the other, yet all eyes fell on you as you emerged, standing at the prince's side. The high ceilings looked small compared to the giant mountain trolls that managed to cram themselves into the back of the room.

“Allow me to introduce our guest, representing humanity as their ambassador, Lady y/n.”

Unsure what the proper etiquette was for a situation like this one was, you nervously bowed as Prince Nuada finished introducing you.

You followed Nuada as he made his rounds, personally introducing you to important goblin and troll figures. He tried his best to conceal his amusement as he watched you quickly put his advice to work, easily charming various goblins and trolls with a smile and a few simple words.

“She’s not as human as I expected.” Nuada overheard one of the goblins share with his comrade. His smile grew at the comment, glad he had trusted you so far and that the others were beginning to recognize that you were something special.

Gently taking hold of your upper arm, Nuada guided you back to the front of the room. As you crept up the steps, a hush fell over the room. All in attendance were eager to hear what you had to say.

Nuada stood behind you, his hands clasped behind his back allowing you to address the whole group.

You explained the changes that had been made to the truce, specifically the part that specified that each magical species would be granted land that suited their needs. You added that the mountain region that had been granted would need to be shared or divided amongst the goblins and trolls.

There were some murmurs amongst them, but it didn’t sound as though they were completely against the idea.

Nuada stepped in from there, answering questions and directing the two groups on what to do next. It was obvious to you that this man was meant to be a leader, it seemed to come to him so easily.

“This could actually work,” he murmured thoughtfully, chin resting in his hand as he watched the trolls and goblins discuss the terms of sharing a territory and rather peacefully in fact.

You smiled and nodded, “it will work.”

…

Over the next few weeks, you traveled to several hidden fae cities and communities with Nuada. Similar to the Troll Market, all sorts of beings congregated in secret, hidden from humanity. You were amazed by the ingenuity of the fae folk and how they managed to find a way to endure, although you knew full well that this situation wasn’t ideal.

Nuada actually seemed excited to bring you along, getting to show you all these unique places that existed right under the noses of humans. And despite his somber appearance, he also seemed to be in high spirits over the plan, over the restoration of the palace, and the allegiances being formed.

To your surprise, you had actually enjoyed these past few weeks with him. He demonstrated that he was more than a warrior, that he was also an intellectual who had interests in engineering and art, and that underneath it all was a man that simply cared for those he viewed as his people, elves and other creatures.

You had worried that working with him was going to be difficult to say the least, that you would have to listen to long lectures about everything wrong with humanity. Instead, he had focused his efforts to unite the fae and become a true leader for his people. He often spoke of the past with a longing in his eyes, one that tugged on your heart strings. You had a similar longing, one where there was harmony between nature and people and now also magic folk.

Browsing through one of the troll markets, you paused when you smelled something delicious, the aroma of vanilla and nutmeg wafting in the air around you.

Nuada chuckled as he observed you. Without asking, he took your hand and led you to a food stall nearby. He spoke briefly to the vendor and handed something in exchange for the pastry that Nuada was now handing to you.

“Thank you,” you beamed. You inhaled deeply before taking a large bite. You hummed in appreciation, the bun was so soft and warm and was filled with something similar to custard.

While focused more on eating than walking, you accidentally knocked into a troll.

The troll growled something in a language you didn’t understand, but you could tell from his tone that it wasn’t anything nice.

Immediately, Nuada lashed out, coming to your defense. He started shouting back at the creature, his voice dripping with venom and his eyes full of rage.

The troll roared, thumping on his chest, looking rather eager to fight.

Clutching Nuada’s arm, you attempted to hold him back, having never seen him this angry before. He reached for his lance, gripping the hilt tightly.

At the sight of the silver spear, the troll seemed to come to his senses, finally backing away, but Nuada didn’t care, all he saw was red.

“Nuada,” you murmured softly, tugging at his arm, hoping to de-escalate the situation. “Come on, don’t let this ruin our day.”

“But-“ Nuada sighed, his rage subsiding as he looked at your face. “Fine,” he relented. “However, next time anyone speaks to you that way, I’m beheading them.”

…

Returning to the palace almost felt like returning home. This time around, the reception of your arrival was warm and welcoming as many of the elves gathered for your and Nuada’s return.

After another large feast, the prince quietly slipped away while everyone else mingled. You tilted your head, watching as he snuck out through the wooden double doors. Excusing yourself from the table, you followed him.

“Nuada,” you reached out, taking a hold of his arm. Successfully stopping him in the hall.

“Hm?” He turned to face you.

“Here,” you slipped the third crown piece into his hand.

He couldn’t hide his utter confusion as he felt the cold metal in his palm, “This is…”

“The final crown piece,” you answered.

“Why?” He asked, his eyes boring into yours.

“I don’t want you or your people to be out of options if this falls through, I trust you,” you said simply. “And I trust you’ll do what’s right… Wish I could say the same for humans.”

Nuada stared at the gold piece in his hand, rubbing his thumb the length of it as he processed your words. He now had all three pieces and could claim the Golden Army.

But…

He lifted his head, his gaze falling upon you, you had provided him with a better solution, one that he was willing to try, to work towards. He’d keep his word, he wouldn’t awaken the army as long as there was hope for his people.

“Thank you,” he said in a quiet voice, that still conveyed his gratitude. “But it should remain with you.”

As he returned the crown piece to you, his touch lingered on your hand for longer than necessary before he said good night.

…

The next morning, sometime after breakfast, Nuada came to your room, seemingly in a hurry.

“I’d like you to accompany me somewhere,” he said vaguely.

You lifted your brow, “Um…Sure?”

“I cannot believe I had forgotten about this until now,” Nuada shared with a lighthearted tone as he took you by the hand and led you down several familiar halls.

“The library?” You questioned as you and him stopped in front of the large doors.

He shook his head, pulling you further into the large room. Nuada led you to a door towards the back that easily could be missed, in fact, despite all the time you had spent in here, you had never noticed it before.

His smile grew as he opened it, inside the walls of the small room were lined with tall cabinets that had rows and rows of tiny drawers. On each drawer were words carved into the wood in elvish. Nuada gestured for you to open one.

Sliding the small drawer open, you peeked inside to find a jar filled with seeds. “A seed library…” you murmured, eyes filled with wonderment as you realized the hundreds, no thousands of plants held in this small room.

Nuada nodded, “Most of these were collected long ago, some of these plants no longer exist.”

“This is amazing,” you started as it all sunk in. “Could I try to plant some? Perhaps I could nurture some of these back into existence.”

Nuada smiled, it was a smile you hadn’t seen before, one filled with youthful excitement, “I was hoping you’d say that.”

“So which ones are flowers?” You asked, eager to get started.

Nuada helped you select a few, explaining that these flowers had the most wonderous scent, that sometimes if he tried hard enough he could recall just how lovely they smelled.

Sitting side by side in a courtyard, you and him prepared a flowerbed, breaking up the soil, making sure it was soft and moist. You rolled a seed between your fingers, your arms glowing, but nothing happened.

“Keep trying,” he encouraged when he saw the look of disappointment on your face.

Taking a deep breath, you tried again, “Can you describe it for me, what this flower looks like? That might help.”

“They’re simple but elegant, like gardenias but larger and smell just as lovely and their leaves are a dark green and appear waxy.”

You could almost picture the flower in your mind’s eye, see it sprout and grow and blossom. Looking down into your hand, you laughed seeing that the little seedling had finally sprouted. Delicately, you planted it in the fresh soil.

“You must think poorly of me,” Nuada stated unprompted. “You must see me as a man who seeks violent solutions, solutions where I willingly sacrifice my people and allies needlessly for my own goals.”

You shook your head, “I can tell none of this has been easy for you, I know that it all weighs heavily on your conscious.”

“Still,” he sighed. “I’m not like you, I hadn’t considered any other option, I hadn’t considered that peace could still be possible. You are… admirable to say the least.”

“You’re mistaken,” you whispered, eyes staring at your hands as they padded the soil. “I may be the worst of them all…”

Nuada tilted his head, you obviously had his attention.

“Before Professor Broom,” you began, your mind drifting to your childhood. “I don’t remember much, but I do remember living in a forest, alone, I was practically feral… unfortunately, I didn’t stay hidden away forever, eventually unlucky travelers and hikers stumbled across my path and all my encounters with them ended the same, who knows how many I killed.”

The memories were foggy, but you could still picture roots wrapping themselves around strangers and coiling tighter and tighter until blood ran.

“I don’t know what was different about father when he found me, but I didn’t kill him. He patiently camped in the woods, keeping his distance from me, but stayed close enough that we could observe each other. I remember him being such a gentle soul…”

You recalled watching him from the outskirts of his camp, he started leaving little treats and trinkets for you in the same spot for you daily. Apparently, he used his experience as Hellboy’s father to help him make a connection with you.

“I have a penance to pay, to both humanity and nature.”

Nuada placed his hand over yours, giving it a gentle squeeze, “I think it’s been paid.”

…

“So,” Red started. “Once you're done with this whole truce crap, what are your plans?”

Nuada opened his mouth to answer the question, but quickly closed it as he realized he actually didn’t know the answer. He assumed that you would be staying with him, living in the palace like you have been, but in all honesty, he had no idea what your plans were, it’s not like he asked or spoke to you about it.

He felt an unpleasant heaviness within him as he acknowledged the possibility of you leaving, moving on to a new and different place to help others.

“I haven’t really thought about it,” you said, working on some needlepoint for the twins’ nursery. “I’ve been so focused on helping the fae, that I haven’t had the time to really think about what’s next.”

You and the prince were currently visiting, mostly to update the BPRD on your progress, but also to spend some time with your family and check in on how everyone was doing. Abe and Nuala appeared all lovey dovey and Liz had shared with you all her crazy pregnancy cravings.

“Well, there’s always room for you here,” Liz offered, absentmindedly rubbing her pregnant belly.

“Thanks, although I’m not sure Manning feels the same way,” you laughed.

“You’re not any worse than Red and they still put up with all his crap.”

“Hey,” he scolded playfully, glaring at Liz. “The BPRD would cease to exist without me.”

Nuada tuned out the rest of the conversation as he contemplated what to do. The thought of you far off somewhere without him stung more than it should. What if something happened to you? What if he never saw you again?

Suddenly you yelped, having accidentally stabbed your index finger with the needle, Nuada’s eyes narrowed as he watched you, he could practically feel the sting of it on his own fingertip. Looking down at his pale hand, he saw a little droplet of blood.

His stomach lurched at the realization. Without a word he withdrew from the group and went out into the hall. On the outside to any of the agents he passed he looked as calm and collected as ever, but inside he was a dam on the verge of breaking due to this latest revelation.

“Have you told her?” Nuala inquired behind him.

Nuada shouldn’t have been surprised that she had followed him, but he didn’t answer her question, he just huffed and turned away.

“Brother,” she urged.

“Have you told the blue one?” He sneered.

“I have.”

He rubbed his forehead, love was a serious matter, especially in their case, it wasn’t something that should ever be taken lightly, because for him it wasn’t something fleeting or lighthearted, it was deep and all consuming.

But when did it get to this point? When did his infatuation become love?

“She has a right to know.”

He began to pace slowly, his arms crossed over his chest. “It’s not that simple,” he argued.

“All the more reason for her to know. We had our suspicions that this could happen,” she reasoned. “That our bond, our ability to feel each other’s pain, could transfer once we each found love.”

His jaw tensed at the word ‘love’, knowing it would only become stronger, that soon you’d experience his every ache and pain and that he’d feel all of yours.

“Human love isn’t as complicated as this,” Nuada stated, glaring at his twin. “What if she doesn’t understand? What if she doesn’t want it and rejects me? What do I do then?”

His mind was already racing with worse case scenarios. The splitting pain he felt over the mere thought of you not loving him had him worried. There was no way for him to stop this, he had no control over it, you and him were now bound to each other, but that didn’t mean you had to remain at his side or even return his love.

“I can see that she cares for you, brother,” Nuala soothed, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Tell her.”

…

It was nice being back at the palace, while seeing your family was great, something about being there made you appreciate the peace and quiet cultivated here. Life was simpler, calmer, amongst the elves.

Nuada, however, hadn’t been the same since returning. You weren’t quite sure what it was, but he was distant, colder. It reminded you of how he had behaved when you and him first met. It’s not as if he was actively avoiding you, but the rapport that you two had developed had seemed to vanish.

As you were walking through the halls, planning to visit the seed library, but halted midstep when you spotted Nuada training in the gardens… in the rain.

You watched mesmerized from the outskirts of the courtyard. Drops of water rolled down his back drawing your attention to the way his muscles moved and flexed. Graceful didn’t even begin to cover the sight before you.

Despite having already seen him in action, you were still impressed by the fluidity and speed of his movements. He transformed something as violent as fighting into something captivating and beautiful like an intricate dance.

Wet strands of hair clung to the front of his face as he spun with a final flourish. He stabbed his spear into the soft wet dirt, his chest quickly rising and falling while he caught his breath.

Nuada raked a hand through his hair, slicking it back as he lifted his head. He gave you a questioning look when he spotted you on the other side of the courtyard. His lips slowly parted, but before he could speak you scurried away full of embarrassment.

You tried to regain some of your composure as you sped walked through the halls, not really paying attention anymore to where you headed. Abruptly, you halted when you noticed that you were walking towards a dead end, but before you could turn around you heard Nuada say your name.

You could hear him approach, stopping once he was right behind you. Your heart sped up as Nuada possessively placed his hand over the center of your chest, his warm fingertips pressed down into your soft flesh as he pulled your back to rest against his wet chest.

Under his palm he could feel your heart beating in sync with his own. His other arm wrapped around your waist holding you firmly in place.

“This,” Nuada began, his voice low and velvety right by your ear. “This was how you grabbed me that night, do you remember?”

“Yes,” you whispered.

Closing his eyes, he sighed wistfully, his breath tickling your flushed face. “Your touch lingered for days and it was all I could think about,” He admitted, his arms winding tighter around you. “I couldn’t recall the last time someone had held me or touched me like that, with such…passion.”

His hand crept a little higher from your chest, gliding over your collarbone before his palm rested on your neck. You released a shaky breath, your head spinning from his touch and the low tone of his voice. You were barely even able to register the words he spoke, completely confused by his intentions.

Nuada exhaled heavily, “I suppose that’s when it started, my infatuation for you.”

“What?” You squeaked.

His index finger traced down the center of your throat as he lowered his hand and loosened his grip on you. “There’s an important matter we need to discuss.”

He started heading towards his room and beckoned for you to follow.

“What is it?” You asked.

He shut the door and stood in front of you with his hands behind his back. “I’ve come to care for you,” he confessed, his expression stern as if he had given you a life sentence.

“I care about you too,” you said in a soft tone.

Nuada shook his head and frowned, frustrated with himself for not being clear and not being more eloquent about it. “It’s more than that… I’m in love with you and there are circumstances that you need to be aware of.”

“Circumstances? Sounds… serious.”

His heart sank at your hesitant expression, but he continued to press on. “You are aware of my bond with my sister, yes?”

You nodded, “if either of you gets hurt, so does the other.”

“Well, I’m no longer bound to her, I’m bound to you.” His eyes studied your face as he spoke, watching your brow furrow as you pieced together what he said.

“How?”

“Because you have become that important to me,” he answered with absolute certainty.

You looked up at him, slowly closing the space between the two of you. Your fingers lightly brushed over his skin as you tucked several loose strands of his white hair behind his ear.

His hand promptly took hold of your wrist, his expression torn as if he couldn’t decide between stopping you or encouraging you.

“You need to understand,” he started, his grip tightening. “That there will be no turning back, I will never let you go.”

You were aware of Nuada’s intentions, he wanted this to be absolutely clear for you, for you to know just how consequential it was for you to start a relationship with him, even if it meant scaring you off. But, surprisingly you weren’t afraid or intimidated by the thought of being with him for the rest of your life.

Through your observations, starting from the very beginning, you had seen how lonely he was. How he was trying to repair things basically on his own. He kept everyone at a distance while he shouldered a burden alone until very recently.

In your eyes, Nuada was more than a warrior or a prince, you saw all of him… he was complex and intriguing and passionate. You wanted to be the person he shared those parts of himself with, and most of all you didn’t want him to be alone again.

“I want this,” you promised. “I want you.”

His other hand held your chin, his thumb brushing over your trembling lip as he tilted your head up. He leaned in, eyes boring into yours. “Mine forever.”

Nuada didn’t waste another second, capturing your lips with his and eagerly pushing you against the wall, his tongue swept over your bottom lip before finding its way into your mouth.

Your fingers clutched the back of his head, curling around his wet hair as you reciprocated the kiss with just as much passion. Your other hand ran down his chest, his heart racing under your touch.

His fingers hooked behind one of knees, yanking your leg upward, instinctively you wrapped it around his waist allowing him to be even closer to you, his pelvic bone now grinding against you. He pushed your skirts up so his hands could roam over your thighs while his mouth latched onto your neck.

Nuada, under typical circumstances, would be more intentional about where he left marks but right now he couldn’t care less as little pink and red marks bloomed on yours and his skin.

You had never felt this sort of urgency before, it was as if he’d die if he had to wait any longer before being with you.

In a hurried and rough manner, he undid the sash of your dress then began to tear away all the layers in his way. He moaned obscenely, feeling your bare torso pressed against his own. His lips explored the newly exposed flesh, nipping and sucking.

Even he was surprised by how desperate and animalistic he was acting, unaware of just how much his body craved your touch and your skin on his, he was practically ravenous.

You could hear him panting heavily by your ear as he undid his pants. He pushed your underwear to the side, exposing your slit. Fortunately, you were already aroused because Nuada couldn’t wait any longer.

Taking his cock in his hand for just a moment, he aligned it with your tight warm cunt. In a fluid motion, he thrusted into you completely, pausing briefly as he savored the feeling of being buried in your velvety walls.

You gasped, wrapping your arms around his neck for support as he began thrusting. His pace immediately starting out fast and hard.

Nuada’s cock was long, reaching depths no previous lover ever had. Your nails raked across his pale skin as you cling to him, yet this caused you to hiss as you also felt the sting of it.

“You are,” he panted, “enchanting, wondrous, divine…”

He sloppily kissed along your shoulder, loving every little sound you made as he fucked you. He wondered if he’d regret not taking his time with you, for being so rough with his flower, but he didn’t feel any pain, just waves and waves of pleasure.

There would be time, plenty of time, where he could make up for it, where he would be a gentle, more tender lover, who will kiss and touch every inch of you.

It didn’t take much longer before you came. You moaned his name, muscles now tightening and your toes curling.

Nuada immediately followed, grunting as he rode out his orgasm and came inside of you.

Propping himself up against the wall with his arms, he caught his breath. Leaning his head down he kissed your forehead then along the side of your face. Acting with more self control, he cupped your face, gazing lovingly into your eyes, “I am yours.”

The following morning, things progressed a lot more slowly with your new lover.

Nuada groaned as you straddled him, his back arching off the bed as you slowly took his cock. Casually he fucked you from below, rolling his hips at a leisurely pace as you rode him.

He admired you, taking in all the pink and purple splotches left from the night’s activities, but also appreciating how lovely you looked in the light of the morning.

…

“Have you packed?” You asked Nuada as he entered the bedroom. You were currently packing your own bag, excited to take a small trip back home.

A couple of days ago, you received a message letting you know that Liz delivered two healthy babies. It had been a couple of months since your last visit, so you were already due for another, but this news made it even more necessary to go.

Nuada nodded, placing his hands on your waist. “Do you need help?”

You shook your head, “No, I think I have almost everything I need.”

Nuada kissed you, right under your earlobe. “Are you looking forward to seeing everyone?”

“Of course I am… I can’t wait to meet my little niece and nephew!” You gushed. “What about you?”

“It will be nice to catch up with my sister, see how she’s adjusting to living with the blue one.”

“He has a name, you know?”

Nuada chuckled, but didn’t bother correcting himself.

“What do you think I should have the babies call me? I was thinking of Auntie Green.”

“That is… suitable I suppose.”

Suddenly you grinned as a thought crossed your mind, “This means you’re also an uncle now, because of our lifelong magical love bond.”

He shook his head, trying to hide his smile over your name for the bond. Taking a few steps back, he moved aside as you finished zipping up your bag. Without thinking, Nuada lifted it up from the bed, ready to carry it to your destination for you.

“Uncle Nuada,” you mumbled, but scrunched your nose in disapproval. “Hmmm, what about… Uncle Silver? That’s much better!”

“Must they call me anything?” He muttered.

“Hey! Don’t be like that, plus you might be a biological uncle soon.”

Nuada sighed, “I suppose you are right… in that case, I think I’d prefer Uncle Silverlance.”

He offered you his arm, escorting you out of the bedroom, so you both could be on your way.

[playingcupid-betweenidiots]

Through Her Shadows

Synopsis: Y/N fled her small hometown years ago, haunted by the relentless bullying from the towns popular boy, the one who made her an outcast. When a family pressure brings her back, she's stunned to find that same boy has changed. Seeking redemption, he apologizes and reveals the pain he hid behind his cruelty.

Pairing: Engineer!Jake x Doctor! Reader

Note: This like my second imagine and the first one which is so long, if you want a part two of this then please let me know. I've wanted to start the New Year with something I love to do but haven't done in so long. Requests are open and I will try to get them done in time before exam season (which I might not have a lot of this year)

_________ ♡♡♡♡___________♡♡♡♡__________♡♡♡♡_______

December 2024

"Mom you know I can't get leave at such a short notice.....", I say to my mother on the phone while getting ready for work, "Y/N honey I know but grandma wants to see you, she wants you to come celebrate the holiday with us at least once". I sigh, "mom you know I don't want to come back", I lock my door and head for the bus stop, "honey I know but she wants to see you at least once she says she wants to see you at least once before her times up", I sigh and roll my eyes at my grandmothers dramatics. "I'll see what I can do, you know the hospital doesn't do leave on such short notice", "I know but thank you, I'll make your favorite when you get here", I chuckle, "Thanks mom talk to you later". After hanging up my bus arrived, I sat down and looked out the window.

September 2016

"Move out of my way orphan!", Someone shoves past me, my back hits the wall, "What the fuck!", I say glaring at the person, "Aw is someone mad, why don't you go ask your dad to console you oh oops forgot he doesn't exist for you", the girl laughed in my face. I felt myself growing angry but I knew I couldn't do anything. I can't afford another fight. One more outburst, and I might get expelled, my mother- she can't afford another tarnish to her reputation. I can't do that to her. Not after everything. I sigh and turn around. "Hey nerd, cat got your tongue", I hear the voice of the one who started this all, Jake Sim. This man hated me for no apparent reason, the second I stepped foot into this school he acted like the I was the sole reason of the world being a shitty place. "Don't you have better things to do Sim", "Nah putting someone like you in their place is the most entertaining thing for me so no I don't have better things to do," Jake taunts, his smirk wide and cruel. My stomach twists, but I bite down the anger that bubbles up and turn on my heel and walk away.

April 2017

The hallway buzz with the last-day excitement, but it feels like I'm moving in slow motion. Everyone else is heading to class, packing their things, making plans for the summer, and saying goodbye to our youth. Meanwhile, I feel like I'm just a marking in time, waiting for the bell to ring so I can disappear in the crowd and hopefully be forgotten or be a distant memory. Either way I hope to be a drifting memory like the wind.

The morning after graduation is eerily quiet. The streets are still, the excitement of yesterday already fading into the past. Staring at the suitcase in front of me, half-packed, my hands hover over the clothes inside. I don't move to finish, it doesn't feel real. Graduation was a blur-more like a ceremony I had to get through than something I should've been excited about and how could I be excited, I was finally getting away from the place and people who made my life a living nightmare I couldn't wake up from. Everyone else was celebrating, and I was just.........there. I stand finally forcing myself to finish packing, though part of me was still stuck in yesterday-still stuck in the echoes of his taunts, the heat of anger that I never got to release. But I can't let this tie me down. This town. These people. Him. It's all in the past now.

The suitcase is packed. The door to my room is open. I stand in the doorway, looking back at the life I've come to resent. Everything feels strangely.....mute. The memories of school, of classmates, of fights I never wanted to have-they all blur together, like fading colors in a forgotten painting. I grab my coat, pull it on, and step outside. My mom's car is already idling by the curb, the engine humming softly in the morning silence. Her face drawn, but she says nothing as I get in. She doesn't have to. We both know what today means. "Ready?" she asks, her voice quiet, tentative. I nod, a tightness in my chest that I can't quite explain. "Yeah....ready."

And for the first time, I don't look back.

Present day

I shake my head coming back to reality, there is no good for me to be hung up in the past now. I get off at my stop and head inside the hospital, people greeted me as I walked to the locker room to change into my uniform. Once I am done I head out and to the nurse station. "Chaemin good morning, what's the schedule for today?" I ask as I go over the file of my patients. "Good morning to you too doctor, today you have consultation....." she goes on about my day and I nod.

After a hectic day I sighed feeling happy since my boss allowed me to take leave for the holiday. I get on the bus and call my mom. "Mom I'm coming over for the holidays" I could hear her squeal in excitement, "Oh my goodness I am so happy to hear that I know grandma is going to be so happy." I chuckle and continue to talk to her until I get home and start packing.

Once I got to my parents house I sighed, it's been years since I came back here. I went in and was immediately tackled in a hug. I laughed "Soobin long time", I say to my cousin. "You idiot you haven't come to see us in so long I thought you forgot about us," "how could I when you are so annoying anyone could remember you," he scoffs at my words "as if you are any better", I punch him in the rib "hey!" I exclaim. Soobin scoffs and rolls his eyes, but there's no malice behind it. It feels good to be back in the warmth of family after everything I've been through. It's been so long since I felt this sense of belonging. The house was filled with warmth, laughter, and the sounds of dinner being prepared. I settled in my old room, a bit smaller than I remembered, but it had the same familiar organization-my pens being in a clear box separated in different colors and my books being set to one side. It felt like a time capsule of my younger self.

As the evening unfolded, we ate dinner together, my grandma gushing over how I am finally home for the holidays. Soobin and I bickered like we used to, my aunt chided us both for making too much noise, and my uncle shared stories from his job he got this summer. We all laughed, and for the first time in a long time, I didn't feel alone. I didn't feel like an outsider. It was just...normal. After dinner, we played a few rounds of different games. Me and Soobin teamed up and though we lost miserably, we had fun. We all laughed, and I couldn't help but feel a warmth that had been missing from my life for far too long.

As the last of the laughter died down and the kitchen light was switched off, I grabbed my jacket and stepped outside, needing a bit of space after a long day of family time. The quiet of the neighborhood wrapped around me, and I started walking aimlessly down the street. I hadn't been back here in so long, and everything felt so different, but somehow, it felt the same. The houses, the trees lining the sidewalks-it all brought back memories I had tucked away for years. There was a kind of peace in the stillness of the night. I kept walking, not really sure where I was going, just needing to clear my head. The night seemed to stretch on, and I lost track of time, the quiet rhythm of my footsteps accompanying my wandering thoughts. But then, just as I rounded the corner, I heard a familiar voice, one I wished not to run into during this trip.

"Well, well......Look who's back." I froze. The voice was unmistakable. Jake Sim. Of course, why wouldn't he show up now? I turned, and there he was, leaning against a lamppost, his usual smirk plastered over his face, but something was different-he wasn't as cocky as usual. His shoulders were a bit slumped, and his gaze didn't quite meet mine at first. "What do you want, Sim Jaeyun?" I asked, my tone neutral, though the resentment I'd felt towards him for so long was still lurking in the background. Jake seemed to hesitate for a moment before pushing himself off the lamppost. He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, a gesture I hadn't seen from him before. His usual bravado was gone, replaced by something...apologetic. "I-" he began, stopping himself, his voice softer than I could ever remember and imagine. "Look, I know I've been an asshole. And ... well, I don't know why I've treated you like that. You didn't deserve it."

I blinked, surprised by the shift in his tone. Sim Jake, apologizing? I wasn't sure how to process it, but there was no mistaking the sincerity in his voice now. It felt like he actually mean it. But then I started to get angry. "I guess I've just... had this stupid idea-" "Stop" my voice hiding what I was truly feeling. Jake froze, "What?" "Stop it Jake, you can't... don't do this to me..." For a moment, I just stood there, it was hard to believe that this was the same guy who made my life miserable for so long. But here he was, looking at me with this raw honesty that made me feel nauseous. I crossed my arms, "you hurt me," I said softly, my voice calm but firm. Jake nodded, a quiet acceptance in his eyes. He took a deep breath. "I don't expect you to forgive me right away. Hell, I wouldn't blame you if you never did. But... I just wanted you to know that I'm sorry for being a jerk to you." The sincerity in his apology was like a weight lifting off my chest. It didn't fix everything, and it certainly didn't make up for years of pain, but hearing him say it-hearing him admit that he was wrong-was enough to shift something inside me. It wasn't about forgiveness, not yet anyway. But it was a start.

"Please leave Jake, I want to be alone right now" I said turning away from him. "Y/N..." he was gonna say something but then he stopped, he turned and walked away, his steps slower and more thoughtful than usual. I watched him go, not sure what to make of it all, but something inside me told me this was the beginning of something new-not just for him, but for me too. I continued my walk, my thoughts being a little messed up after the meeting with Jake. I knew the past didn't have to define me anymore.

January 2025

Over the next few weeks, every encounter with Jake felt like another step into a tangled web I wasn’t sure how to navigate. I couldn’t help but notice how different he seemed—his posture, the way his eyes avoided mine as if he feared I might see the truth he wasn’t ready to share. Every time we crossed paths, there was a weight in the air, thick and suffocating, and I couldn’t figure out if it was because of the past, or something else.

The third time I saw him was at the local bookstore. I’d been wandering the aisles, looking for something to distract me from everything that had been swirling in my mind. I didn’t notice him at first, but I heard his voice—the same voice that used to sneer at me in the halls of high school, the same voice that would whisper insults as he passed me by.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice quiet but filled with something unrecognizable.

I froze. I didn’t want to turn around, didn’t want to face the man who had made my teenage years a living nightmare. But something in his tone stopped me. It wasn’t the arrogant, dismissive Jake I used to know. This time, his words were softer, hesitant.

Slowly, I turned to face him. My eyes met his, and I saw it—the guilt, the regret, the longing. It hit me harder than I expected, and for a moment, I couldn’t breathe.

“Jake,” I said, my voice careful. "What do you want?"

He flinched, as if my words physically hurt him. But when he spoke, there was no trace of the old Jake, the one who had laughed at my expense, the one who’d made me feel small.

“I just... I’ve been trying to find the right words to say,” he started, his hands shoved deep into his jacket pockets, his voice trembling with something I couldn’t place. “I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I have to say it, even if it’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”

I blinked, trying to make sense of his words. "Forgiveness?" The word felt strange coming from him, so foreign, so different from the boy who once tormented me. "Jake, what are you talking about?"

He took a step closer, then hesitated, as if unsure of how much distance he could close before I would push him away. "I know I hurt you, Y/N. I was awful, and I... I didn’t even realize what I was doing. I was cruel. I—" His voice broke, and I saw a flash of pain cross his face, something raw and real that I had never expected from him. "I wish I could take it all back. I wish I could undo all the times I made you feel worthless. I wish I could make up for the things I did to you."

The words hung in the air, and I could feel the sincerity in his voice. But I couldn’t let myself forget what he had done. Couldn’t let myself forget the way his cruelty had shattered my self-worth, how I had spent years fighting to rebuild the person I used to be.

“You can’t just apologize for all of it and expect everything to be okay, Jake,” I said, my voice trembling despite myself. “What you did... it changed me. I’m not the same person I was before.”

His eyes dropped to the floor, and I saw his chest tighten with a deep breath, as if the weight of his regret was physically painful. “I know. And I don’t expect you to forget it. I don’t even deserve your forgiveness. But I need you to know that I would do anything to make it right. Anything to... to earn back some of the trust I ruined.”

I shook my head, feeling a storm of emotions rising within me. "Why now?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. "Why come to me now, after all these years?"

Jake looked up, his eyes filled with an ache that made my chest tighten. “Because I can’t live with myself knowing what I did to you. I’ve spent so much time trying to push it all down, pretending it didn’t matter, but it does. You do. You always have, even when I was too stupid to see it.”

His words struck me harder than I expected, but the pain from all those years of torment still lingered, still pulsed through my veins. I couldn’t just forgive him because he was sorry now. That wasn’t how it worked.

“Jake,” I started, taking a step back, feeling the distance between us grow. “You can’t fix the past. You can’t undo the damage.”

He stepped closer again, his eyes never leaving mine, and the way he looked at me... it was almost as if he was pleading with me, silently begging me to understand.

“I know I can’t undo it,” he said, voice tight, almost desperate. “But I’m asking for a chance. Not for your forgiveness right now—maybe I don’t deserve it. But I want to show you that I’ve changed. I want you to see that I’m not the same person I was back then. I’m so sorry for everything, Y/N. I can’t take it back, but I can try to be better. For you.”

There was a tremor in his voice, a rawness that made something inside of me ache. For the first time, I saw Jake as he truly was—vulnerable, remorseful, and… yearning. Not just for my forgiveness, but for something deeper. Something more.

And as much as I wanted to push him away, to tell him it was too late, to remind him of everything he had done... part of me couldn’t help but wonder if he meant it. If he really had changed.

“I don’t know what to say,” I whispered, my heart pulling in two different directions. “I need time, Jake. I need time to even... understand this.”

His face fell, and for a brief moment, I saw the hope in his eyes die. But then, almost like he couldn’t help it, he stepped closer again, his voice barely audible. “I’ll wait, Y/N. However long it takes. I’ll wait for you. Because I... I don’t know what I’d do if you couldn’t find it in yourself to forgive me. Or... if you couldn’t even... love me again.”

The words hit me like a wave. He hadn’t just come for my forgiveness. He had come because he needed more than that. He needed my love.

But I wasn’t ready.

Not yet.

And as I turned to leave, I couldn’t help but feel the ache of his longing in my chest, too.

[jkftkth]

i really do wonder what a bts comeback will mean and does every member have a plan figured out for themselves.

fan accounts going awol when some members were exploring their artistic individuality and only now resurfacing because a group reunion is closer - it makes you think. was there ever even an artistic connection? or was it more about what has been sold to the audience over musical talents - an entertaining family dynamic/bond fans can project onto. fitted roles where a member is only likeable if they’re playing it just right.

2024 changed my feelings for good on where i think i belong, and there’s probably little that could happen for me to want to be part of bts’ fandom again.

firstly, there’s only so far you can go being a fan of tae and having to witness on a daily basis the level of disrespect he faces from both company and fandom no one else has. when you see quite literally the worst of the worst, day after day, but it’s only a limited amount of fans who voice concern and make actual space for the exclusive severity of it all to be acknowledged and discussed and questioned…you either stay and pretend it’s not happening/it’s not “the actual worst” because it’s impossible to satisfy every fan, orrrrr—

i mean, everything until up to now has been with the intent of a) making us fall for the brainwashing so we stop advocating for him as an individual, or b) exhaust us into quitting being his fan so his label can turn around and say to him hey look—why did you think you could make it when no one likes you?

and i obviously believe other members are a victim in their own way too. because you would have to be living under a rock to not see that hybe does not respect its idols as workers, as money makers, and as humans. neither does it protect most of them, the actual opposite for specifically taegikook and so a fan of the group or not, anyone would naturally want better for hybes idols across the board because they deserve better than staff badmouthing them in official reports and on online platforms.

of course there are other reasons i’ve had enough, such as contractual fan service being pushed so much whilst at the same time fandom reactions being intensely watched and made note of to the extent labels are out here monitoring fanfiction and assigning tropes to members and not caring what type of delusion and hate that cultivates??! to the group motto of “us is always before me” being celebrated, to fandom not actually caring about idols’ rights, to fandom falling for a dirty pr firm’s media manipulation/fabrication so easily, to hybe basically being in all fandom spaces with their dumb ass bots to sway opinion, to i mean the list goes on.

i don’t think i’d call myself bitter, or a hater, or a “solo.”once they return i’ll feel relief for all of them that that chapter of their life is over and they came out safe and sound (🙏), but i confess i have little excitement for a group album because group songs mean one thing for fans of tae and group arrangements always do the opposite of wanting him to shine and group entertainment is hard to enjoy when you know there’s a script running more often than not at his expense.

a tour? well i know there’s sincerity in how important performing is, and it’ll probably mean a lot after 18 months of being forced away from that, so it will be nice to see them doing what they find enjoyable yes. do i look forward to the exerting schedules for the sake of making up for hybes financial losses? do i look forward to the billionaire continuing to rip them off while he carries on riding their success as his own?

i know there are contracts. i know idols’ rights are a topic of concern and few are willing to talk about it and make a change. i know their industry can get really manipulative really fast as soon as they step out of line and that can lead to a really dark reality. i know there’s always a bad guy in the story. i know the group is still important and loved by tae (and jk), i know he wants to think the best of the group’s fandom because he is still a group member, i know i’ll support him wherever he goes but like

it’s just hard to forget the least three years and stay unaffected.

[lightbulb-warning]

i used to freehand comics all the time as a child and since the part i liked was the drawing part i would just draw panel after panel because i didn't want to stop drawing to think about icky icky words, plus the story TOTALLY still made perfect sense! to me! and noone else, but 'whoooo caaaaares omgggg its not like comics and sequantial art are a communicative meeediummmm lmaoooooo'. i spent my entire childhood telling myself stuff like "oh pfft I know this story by heart- ill SIMPLY remember the dialogue and write it later" ...and. I can't help but admire baby maiora's (call that a minora ba tm tsk) fucking audacity? hubris? confident wrongness? kid couldn't even remember to finish the comics in the first place? INCREDIBLE levels of unearned self assurance, wish that were me, genuinely- what an icon!!! anyway i think i have forever cursed myself

[soap-ify]

hello (going to pretend that i didn't disappear AGAIN)

[maddy-ferguson]

talking to new people again is making me realize that (this is gonna sound dramatic) i haven't lived in five years but what i have done is watch a lot of movies and read a bunch of books and believe it or not that actually makes me an interesting conversationalist in some ways (?)

[hauntingblue]

Justice for jolyne wdym emporio defeated pucci

[13eyond13]

.

[guinevereslancelot]

what is it with me and spending stupid amounts of money on frivolous things every january 🤡

[vampyrluver]

I love my brothers so much i want to protect them all wasaaa

[ladyhavilliard]

i've long understood why representation is important but i don't think I actually felt for myself how important it can be until reading loveless and watching Isaac's journey in heartstopper this year... My best friend is ace, but we have very different opinions/feelings/experiences/whatever when it comes to this. I have known about the aro/ace spectrums for so long. And yet knowing and actually seeing/reading someone go through a similiar experience resonates with you unlike anything else.

[classyrbf]

dad bod!toji who’s still the big, muscular man he is but you can tell he’s gotten older and his metabolism has slowed down a little bit. He’s gotten chubbier in his arms, thighs, tummy. Not to mention, he’s started to gray and grow stubble on his face, the perfect salt and pepper mix. Toji says he hates it, always moaning and groaning about needing to hit the gym but you…? You fucking love it. It takes everything in you not to ravish his right then and there, wanting to pounce on him every second of the day. You’re always kissing up on him, grabbing on him, dragging him to the laundry room while the kids watching tv so you could have a quickie. And he’s so confused on where all this extra energy and affection has sprouted from, but he loves it. You’re always so eager for him, fucking your self on his cock, him waking up to you kissing his neck and stroking his dick, dropping to your knees and giving him head without his asking. He wonders what he’s done to deserve all of it.

He’s standing in the mirror one late night with his shirt off, examining just how chubby he’s gotten. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t a little insecure, thinking how gorgeous you are and how you shouldn’t settle for him. “I’m losing myself,” he grumbles. “What’s going on, baby?” You walk in the room, a smile immediately on your face when you see his shirt is off, definitely a sight to see. “I need to head to the gym is what’s going on.” He flexes his muscles in the mirror. You giggle and walk up behind him, snaking your arms around his waist. “I think you look so handsome with a little weight on you,” you whisper in his ear. “Does something to me.” You nibble on his ear before trailing kisses along his jaw, and that’s when Toji realizes why you’ve been so affectionate with him, like a lightbulb going off in his head.

Just mere minutes later, you’re riding him like your life depends on it, slamming your hips down on his, creating a sticky mess between you two. “S-shit,” he pants, “slow down, mama—fuck!” His bruising grips on your hips only tighten the faster you ride him. Your pussy sucks him in with each thrust, clenching around his throbbing cock. “I can’t…you get so me so hot and bothered, baby.” You grin, running your hands down his chest.

He swears he could cum right then and there, with the way you were riding him and that look in your eye, he was ready to give you another kid. And now you were kissing his neck, moaning and whimpering in his ear. “You’re so perfect, Toji,” you mewl. “Fuck me.” His eyes roll back before fluttering shut. “Keep going, yes, yes, just like that, mama. You’re gonna make me fucking cum,” he groans. You keep that same rhythm, squeezing your pussy around him, milking him. He suddenly wraps his arms around you, holding you in place as he thrusts up into you, the sound of skin on skin filling the room. “Ah, fuck!” You cry out, your cum dripping down his shaft. His thrusts grow sloppier and harder and next thing you know he’s filling you up, pushing his cum deeper inside of you with slow thrusts. Laughter erupts from your chest as you catch your breath, kissing him slowly and passionately.

“Mmm, goddamn,” he huffs, pulling you to his chest. “Now I finally know why you’re so goddamn horny all the time,” he chuckles. You blink up at him with a small smirk. “Can you blame me?” You trace patterns on his skin. He can see the look in your eye, that hungry stare you’re giving him, wanting more. “What are you thinking about, hm?” He caresses your cheek. “Oh nothing…just how badly I wanna give you some head right now, but I’ll wait.”

[puppmeo]

Have you ever been assumed to be romantically attracted to someone and even just the thought of that makes you want to throw up . Anybody

[gor3sigil]

Before starting T, when I socially transitionned, I was surrounded by radical feminists who saw masculinity as gross and inherently evil, something to avoid, something to make fun of, something to destroy. The other transmascs in my friend group, sometimes, told me that they didn’t knew if they really were non-binary or if they just were scared shitless of saying “I am a man”. Because they saw this as a betrayal to their younger self who had been SAd and abused.

I saw many of my masc friends and trans men around me hate themselves, not outing themselves as men because it would imply so so much, it was like opening the Pandora Box. Even when we were just together, talking about our masculinity was always coated with bits like “I know we’re the privileged ones but…”, “I don’t want to sound like I have it bad but…”, “Women obviously have it worse, but last time…” and we were talking about terrible traumas we experienced while taking all the precautions in the world in the case the walls were a crowd of people in disguise waiting to get us if we didn’t downplay the violence we faced, or like crying and being upset and being traumatized and afraid and scared and to say it out loud would make us throw up the needles we were forced to swallow every second of every day living in our skin.

Most of us weren’t on T yet, some of us were catcalled every day and harassed in the streets or in abusive relationships nobody seemed to care to help them get out of because they were “strong enough” to do it by themselves.

I was using the gender swap face app and cried for ours when I saw my father looking back at me through the screen. The idea of transforming, of shedding into a body that would deprive me of love, tenderness, and safety, was absolutely terrifying. I knew I couldn’t stay in this body any longer because it wasn’t mine, but I also knew that if I was going to look like my dad, my brother, my abusers, it would be so much worse.

5 years later and I’m almost 2 years on T, and almost 2 months post top surgery.

I ditched my previous group of friends. I was bullied out of my local trans community. But let me tell you how free I am.

I was scared that T would break my singing voice: it made it sound more alive than ever.

I was scared that T would make me less attractive: it made me find myself hot for the first time in my life.

I was scared that T would make me gain weight: it did. But the weight I put on is not the weight I used to put on by binging and eating my body until I forgot that it even existed. It’s the weight of my body belonging to me, little by little. The wolf hunger for life.

I won’t tell you the same story I see everywhere, the one that goes “I started going to the gym 8 times a week, I put on some muscles, I started a diet and now I look like an action film actor”, in fact if you took pictures of me from 5 years ago vs now I’d just have more acne, I’d have longer hair and still look like I don’t know what to do with myself when I take selfies.

But the sparkle in my eyes, my smile, tell the whole story way better than this long ass stream of words could ever.

I want to say some things that I wish someone told me before starting medically transitionning.

It’s okay to take your time. It’s your body, it’s your journey, if you don’t feel comfortable taking full doses and want to go slow, the only voice you need to listen to is your own. Do what feels right.

If you feel overwhelmed, it’s okay to take a break, it’s okay to ask for support.

Trans people are holy. Everyone is. You didn’t lose your angel wings when you came out because you want to be masculine. You are not excluded from the joy of existence, from being proud of yourself, from being sad, from being scared, from being angry. The emotions and feelings you allowed yourself to feel while processing what you experienced when you grew up as a girl and was seen as a woman are still as valid as before. Nobody can take that from you. If someone tries to, don’t let them.

It’s perfectly normal to grieve some things you were and had before you started to transition, like your high soprano voice or even your chest. Hatching is painful. You can find comfort in things that don’t feel right, so making the decision to change can be incredibly scary and weird and you deserve to be heard and supported through this. Wanting top surgery doesn’t make the surgery less intense, less terrifying, less painful to recover from. When it becomes too much you have the right to take a break and take some deep breaths before going on.

You don’t have to have a radical, 180° change for your transition to be acceptable or valid or worthy of praise. Look at how far you’ve come already. It doesn’t have to show, you’re not made to be a spectacle, you’re human and it is your journey.

Oh, and last thing, you know when some people say “Oh this trans person has to grow out of the cringy phase where you think that you can write essays about being trans or transitionning or just their experience because it’s weird” ? If you ever hear this or see this online, remember all the people whose writing you read and, even if they were not professional writers, helped you more than any theorists did ? If you want to write, do it. It won’t be a waste. It can help people. Or it won’t, and even then, if it helped you, that’s enough.

Love every of my trans siblings, take care of yourselves. You deserve the world.