#i really really can’t stand rambles and the wretch i was getting angry just thinking about them

[wormtoxin]

updated personas/subroutines: (disclaimer: i still don’t think im plural, sorry)

Pepper/Clover: the main one, not even one of the subroutines really, just the blank slate object which all the others act upon. The physical body. The only persona recognized by society.

Autopilot: the regular forms and functions of being a human being. Wake up, brush teeth, go to class, come home, go to sleep. Sometimes one of the others sneaks in and replaces it without my notice, especially when I’m talking to other people, and I don’t care for that shit at all. Routine.

Rambles: Vile little subroutine that makes my mouth move well before my brain. Sometimes I feel like I’m going on and on and I can’t stop. I don’t like conversation much because having to talk necessitates Rambles and then I feel totally out of control and I hate it. Objectively this one has its uses but it’s also my least favorite.

The Wretch: Self-loathing subroutine. Convinced it’s a worthless fuckup and probably correct. Self-sacrificing while being selfish, apologetic while seeking sympathy, paradoxically victim and passive-aggressor. The worst of both worlds. I actually put a lot of time and effort into being properly accountable the way a human being should be, but sometimes i get overemotional and I spiral and that part’s The Wretch i think.

The Doll: Control, poise, perfection, submission, obedience. Maybe if it’s perfect we can get it right this time. If it’s just perfect then nobody can criticize it. Next time it’ll get it. Never does. Masking, I think? Maybe some kind of fucked up anti-masking? Can’t keep this one up for long. Wishes it could just be quiet for once and let our actions speak for themselves, but people keep trying to talk to it, and it inevitably slips away. Probably used it more when I was working.

The Dog: Playing, eating, sleeping, rolling, getting off, singing and drawing. Simple bodily expressions. Not so bright. This one doesn’t get much of an outlet. Kind of a lump, occasionally whipped into shape by expectation. I actually kinda like being this one but it’s impossible when being perceived by another human being. The most invisible persona of them all. Immoral (amoral?) and therefore unsustainable long-term

The Magician: Doing, studying, creating, dressing, presenting. A self-styled scholar. Flashy and stylish and confident. Would describe itself as “dark academia” or something similarly edgy-but-trendy. Work and school romanticized, transmogrified into an exciting fantasy. Useful for being productive.

The Witch: Free of responsibility to society or others or ethics. A heartbreaker maneater homewrecker bitch. A natural disaster. An expression not of individuality or self, but force and violence. Claiming anything it wants by any means necessary and destroying everything in its path. Selfish to the core. Chained up in a basement somewhere. It exists but it’s cruel and it sucks so I never ever let it out. But I like to remember it’s there. A trump card, a concealed weapon. Break glass in case of emergency. I feel the shape of its outline like a knife stashed in a boot and I know I could use it if I ever needed it.

Honorable Mentions:

Poetics: Playing with sounds, words, grammar, languages, ideas until they sound musical and pleasing. Etymology research, vocabulary buff, eidetic memory for certain words and phrases, but only when they sound “right”. Possibly used for all five senses, or possibly shares overlap with Composition (visual) and Kinesthetics (touch)

Faux Marxism: Self-righteous understanding of the dialectical materialist view of history. Used mostly for impassioned speeches at inopportune moments (Rambles) or in response to perceived political threats. Poetics and Faux Marxism are both very invested in learning as much vocabulary, history, languages, and multiculturalism as possible, but for very different reasons.

Horndog: you could take all of sexuality and sprinkle it across all the other different subroutines, OR you could concentrate it into one horrible little guy.

Puzzles: The subroutine that just will NOT let a problem go until it’s solved. Character designs, meaningless research inquiries, computer software. Very very very very rarely, actual assigned tasks. The Magician wants what Puzzles has.

Hibernation: Comfy cozy blanket pillow sweater cuddle nap pile. Memorized the rhythms of the winter hibernation episodes of Tanoshii Moomin Ikka and plays them in a loop continually year-round. This one might be straight-up biological. I think I might have a vitamin deficiency.

Fog: The squishy slouchy sweaty medium that fills up whatever psychic dream space all the other personas occupy. There used to be a sense of “me” but it got covered up by all the fog what seems like years ago. That sense of wholeness, control, totality, unification. It existed once. I like to think it’s still out there, somewhere, if I just get my meds right or get enough sleep and if I can just synthesize all the others maybe I can feel “like myself” again. But all the fog covers it up. Memory issues. Whenever I get a sudden moment of clarity, and I realize I’ve been one of the more loathsome subroutines, someone I don’t recognize, I’ll have just stumbled out of the fog. Always comes with a feeling of “Why did I just say that?” Or, “What did I just say?”. Dissociation, maybe???

????: see previous. The negative space that fills everything else in. I don’t even know whether to call this one “Selfhood” or “Synthesis” or “Control” or “Autonomy” or …”Me”. That’s probably most appropriate but it feels like too foreign a word to make sense of. Whatever was here once got swallowed up by the fog, and I don’t know what it is anymore. If it was here I think I could feel like a present sensor and agent in my own life again. This is probably what people expect out of “Pepper” or “Clover”, the flagship of the armada, the face and voice of the operation. I don’t know where that person is. All the subroutines (personas?) are trying to emulate her, stall for time until she comes back. She might not ever be coming back. We might be all we have.

[gilbirda]

for the ask game: Danny Arkham Security Guard?

I've been curious where you're at with that for a while (I assumed the muse has fled and/or you're too busy with other fics), so had to pick that one when I saw it on the list 👀

From this WIP ask game

Haha! I knew someone would ask about it!

Honestly I have struggled a lot with picking this bad boy up... When I finally did a few months ago, the last edit was July 2022 😭

Long story short, summer 2022 was the time I really went down the spiral with Hardcover ship and literally every idea I had was for those two. I think what happened was that I realized there was an untapped potential and market for romance and all the classic romance tropes in DP fandom (I understood why that was the case, but still I was frustrated because I hadn't seen a single fic that made me crazy about any ship in DP) and it left me wanting.

Then I wrote Arkham Guard Danny and I did the bit where Jazz almost shoots Jason, and then I liked the dynamics between him and the siblings and I literally said in the AN if I ended up shipping him, I was debating between Jazz and Danny. *laughs in irony*

So basically I went "what if I write every romance story trope but Jazz/Jason?" and the rest is history.

And every damn time I went back to Arkham Guard Danny, I re read it and realized.... Is just so bad. I saw flaws everywhere. I saw bad characterization. I saw "angry robin Jason" and a bunch of things I don't stand by anymore and I felt like there was no way I could continue that fic and the difference wouldn't be felt. Was I too harsh with myself? Absolutely, but we are our worst critic.

Also? I felt the project running away from me. I started developing worldbuilding and ideas and I got mad because Arkham Guard is supposed to be simple. It used to be the "simple fic" I did while I focused on my magnum opus for DP fandom (Eldritch Ghost King Danny AU - "You and me and our best friend makes three"). If it got complicated I didn't want to write it anymore. And then it did and I dropped it.

Recently I went through a really bad situation and it kind of killed any want to write for dpxdc. I thought - why not go back to the basics? Revisit what really made me start in the fandom, what made me get a bunch of comments like "i got into dpxdc because of this fic". Took me back to when I started, how simple it felt to just write a fic and drop it to the ether and not worry about the things that made me want to stop forever.

So I did. Feels good to pick this up again!

I could go on forever but I won't continue rambling about this project (✿◡‿◡)

If you read up to this point, here's a little bit of what I have so far!

---

“Children,” Alfred stood from his seat, positioning himself between the brothers and their guest. “Let her breathe.”

“It’s okay, Mr. — uh…” She blushed as she realized she never asked for his name.

“Alfred,” the butler smiled, “Alfred Pennyworth.”

“Mr. Pennyworth,” she nodded politely. “I’m fine. I am aware that after that… theatrical spectacle, explanations are needed.”

“Indeed.” Batman cut in the conversation. “Proper explanations are in order. After I deliver the Joker to Arkham.”

“You can’t be serious!” Did the old man go crazy? Back to that wretched place?

Jazz frowned, seemingly sharing his thoughts. She leaned closer to the microphone and spoke in a controlled voice. “Where are you delivering him? In the hospital.”

Bruce took way too long to answer, so Tim did it for him. “Through the front door?”

Jazz didn’t find it funny. “Wait for me.”

“What?”

“I said, wait for me.” Jazz reached for her discarded jacket, eyeing the door to the elevator back to the manor. “Joker is my patient and I need to be there.”

“What for?”

She turned to look at Jason. “He doesn’t deserve to be left at the mercy of some of the people in the Asylum. They could—”

“He can rot for all I care.”

The vigilante walked up to her, getting in her way and using his height and build to scare her into submission. Jazz held his gaze, defiant, muscles tense and ready to throw down if needed.

“You don’t know that place like I do.”

Jason huffed. “Whatever the inmates want to do to him, he deserves it.”

“I wasn’t talking about the inmates.” Her teal eyes steeled with fury. “Arkham has a history of staff abusing their authority.”

[luthien-t]

Pregnancy Scare

Loki X Female! Reader

54. Why’s there a pregnancy test in the trash?

110.You passed out for like an hour.

7.You’ve gone to the bathroom fifty times today.

warning: Angst to fluff, mentions of abortions, mentions of death (if u squint), 

“Hey!! I saw your prompt list, could I request a Loki x reader, with numbers 54 and 110 please ? 🙂 “

“For Loki x F!reader 7 "you've gone to the bathroom 50 times today" and 54 "why is there a pregnancy test in the trash?" Where reader is too afraid to tell Loki she is pregnant because he has stated his fear of being a bad father and since reader is mortal, he doesn't know what will happen to her body. *angsty fluff pls!!*”

More prompts

“I’ll be right back, just gotta go to th-“

“The bathroom, yes, I know” He chuckled and you just stared at him like a deer caught in the headlight. “That wretched bathroom has been stealing you from me all day, love.” His eyes were glued to the book he was reading to you with a smile on his face and you chuckled nervously. “What?” You mumbled and stood, unlatching yourself from his body and looked down at him. “You’ve gone to the bathroom at least 50 times today, I believe” A smirk was printed on his face as he joked.

 “You midgardians and your fragile physiology” His eyes averted from the book and up at you, the smirk on his face slightly dropping and you laugh nervously this time, walking towards the bathroom, taking big large steps towards the door. “Heh, yep, be out in a sec!” You yell through the door and lock it, staring at the door before locking it again, just to be sure, you thought to yourself before pulling out the third test you’ve taken today, checking the results.

Your grip on the small test in your hand tight, your body trembling as you sat down on the bathrooms floor, the tears in your eyes fogging the view and you hoped that maybe it’s the reason why the test result is positive. You blinked your eyes quickly, moving your tears out of the way. The results remain the same. You assumed your period being late 2 months was just a hormonal issue, but now? You were terrified.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” You mumbled and threw it in the bathrooms trash-can. This can’t be happening, this was the third test you’ve taken and all the results were all positive, all you can think about is him, about that one conversation you had with him months ago.

—

Your body laid flush against his chest, your head buried into his neck and his hands untangling the strands in your hair. “Aren’t you worried?” You mumble to him, you just asked him about the possibilities of you getting pregnant. “Why would I be worried? We are two completely different beings, darling. Besides, you’re on birth control. We will be fine.” His voice was calm, he sounded confident but you can feel his heartbeat speeding under your chest.

“We could be the exception, Loki” This time you adjusted your body, with your chin resting on his chest and eyes looking up at him. Lokis expressions flickered quickly between worry and fear. “Darling-“ He started, but you can hear the fear dripping from his tone. “We can’t even comprehend what might happen to you, if you ever carry my child” His eyes were distant and looking away from you and you remain silent, not wanting to ruin the vulnerability he is fighting to hide. “With me? A god? A frostgiant. You could-“ He then stopped and looked at you, as if trying to memorise your features and bit his lower lip, this time you nod slightly with a slow blink, showing him that you understand.

“Besides, I can’t be a father, you know I can’t” He whispered the words to you and you let out a sigh through your nose. You knew what he meant by that, but how can you convince him otherwise when he saw things you only heard through his stories?

—

A knock on the door pulled you out of your thoughts and you jumped slightly, your head turning to the door. “Y/n? Are you still in there, my love?” It was Loki, he must’ve noticed your long absence while you were lost in your own train of thoughts.

“Yes? Give me a minute!” You voice wavered and his shadow under the door stood still, you prayed that he didn’t notice and would drop it but you know he wouldn’t. Yet to your surprise, he said he ordered lunch and walked away. You let out a loud sigh, wiping your tears quickly and washed your face, you have to find a way to tell him.

Your mind starts to wander again as your feet lead you of the bathroom, what if he leaves you? What if this is the final straw for him and a wake up call that you’re just a midgardian who won’t even live past 80? “Darling?” He’s standing by the door frame of your room, watching you. “Is everything alright? I can feel your thoughts all the way from over here.” He chuckled lightly and walked towards you. “I’m just tired, thats all” You stumble on your words quickly and force a smile on your face as he wraps his arms around you, had he noticed your blatant lie? He didn’t show. His arms engulfed you in a tight hug, his lips pressed on the top of your head. “You look like you’ve seen the dead, whats going on?” He smiled lightly down on you and you shook your head, feeling light after his release, black dots forming in your vision. “Nothing, I’m just-“ You swallowed and walked towards your bed, needing to lay down. “woah, woah, woahh.” He whispered as he watched you rush towards the bed as your words slurred the same mantra. Im just tired, Loki. That was the last thing you mumbled before your body closed off on you.

You must’ve been asleep for a while because the sun was setting and the beams were reflecting off of the opposite buildings glass and righy into your eyes. You sat up and there he was, reading his book on the bed next to you. His brows furrowed and his lips pressed into a thin line, memories of the morning slowly coming back to you.

“Hey” You whispered, clearing your throat after.

“You’ve been passed out for like an hour.” His eyes remained on the book, his tone was stern as he flipped a page, even though his eyes didn’t follow the words on the page. “Sorry, I’m just-“ Your whispered words were interrupted by his. “Tired? Yes, I know.” His tone slowly became angry and your hands found the hem of your shirt, nervously tangling it with your fingers. You try to pinpoint why his anger was pointed at you, trying to find a way to solve this.

“Can we continue where we last stopped?” You refer to the book he was reading and his head turns to you, his eyes seeing right through you and you wonder if you’ve done something wrong to upset him. He stared at you for a while, his eyes flickering between your eyes and every inch of your body.

You can feel a wall being built between you two and that there is nothing you can do, both of you remained still and quite for a moment, just staring at each other.

“Why is there a pregnancy test in the trash?” He goes straight to the point and you can feel your heart dropping to your stomach, your knees feeling weak and your hands stop fiddling with your shirt. “Wh-“ He interrupts you again. “Why. Is. There. A pregnancy test. In the trash?” He speaks slowly, though his voice was stern, you can hear the fear dripping through the words.

“I’m sorry.” You spoke quickly, tears threatening to spill in your eyes and you look up, away from him. He shuts his book with a slam and sits up, looking at you, reading your face and the multiple emotions switching in your eyes.

"I'm sorry" You repeat again, your words hidden behind the breaking of your voice and the sob threatening to shake through your body. Loki sat still, waiting for you to calm down, his brows no longer furrowed but his eyes still filled with anger. "What is all this, y/n? Is this why you've been going to the restroom all day?" He asks, whispering the words to you, trying to keep his emotions out of this. You nod and he lets out a sigh through his nose. "I can go get an abortion and we can get past this, Loki. I'm sorry for lying and I didn't want to tell you until I was sure and-"

"Stop." He rests a hand on your knee, trying to stop you from rambling on and on about this. "stop, before you say something you might regret." He continues and you bite your tongue, trying to decipher what he means by that.

"You know I love you, darling. But this is a lot to take in." He whispers to you, his head leaning towards your and you nod, blinking to try to stop your tears from falling. "I know you don't want a child with me, Loki." You whisper back to him and he shakes his head. "It's not like that." His eyes drop to your hands, shaking slightly. "I want one with you, but-" He looks up at you and you read his eyes, filled with fear and conflict. "I am not fit to be a father, darling. Not one worthy of such title." This time you shake your head and cup his head. "But you are, my love!" You hold his hands in your face and lean closer. 

"I don't even know how to hold a baby, Loki. But this is our child. We will manage." You smile gently at the words our child and he shakes his head slightly. "What would happen to you?" He asks, your shoulders drop, eyes looking anywhere but him. "What am I to do without you here? With a child I can not raise alone?" A chuckle escapes your lips and he furrows his eyebrows.

"If I am not fit to carry this child, My body wouldn't have allowed it happen, love." The hand Loki had on your thigh pulls you closer to him and you mumble to him. "I promise you, If I ever feel like my body is giving to much, I will tell you and we can find a solution. Like we always do." Your arms wrap themselves around his neck and he remains quiet. As if debating and calculating his next words.

"Ruma." He says before kissing you softly and you raise an eyebrow. "What?" You pull away from his lips, your head tilted slightly. "If the child is a girl, we will name her Ruma." A smile slowly appeared on his face and you chuckle. "Oh really?" He nods again. "And Murö for a boy." You giggle at his sudden shift and your head tilts backwards, your body shaking with happy tears.

"Already thinking of names? We're not even entirely sure, love" You look back at him, his arms snaked their ways around your waist, pulling you to his lap, adjusting your legs around his waist.

"Be quiet." He whispers, shushing you along the way and you try to hold in a giggle. "Let the child rest, now." One of his hands slipped under your shirt and you smile widely at the view unfolding in front of you, joyful tears forming in your eyes. 

[airi-p4]

Never have I ever - Chapter 2

Chapter 1

Well- The ending of chapter 1 felt mean, so wrote another chapter to give this fic a proper enclosure. There’s a little pinch of Adrien salt- you’ve been warned.

AO3 __________________________

Luka POV

The awkward silence of the shocking confessions breaks a minute later, when the doorbell rings. My mind comes back to earth as I see Marinette jump a little.

Adrien, it reminds me.

The buzzer makes me snap out of my short - too short- fantasy and I clumsily stand up to open the door.

“Hi, Adrien” I greet, trying to sound as natural as I can, even when, actually, I have a pit in my stomach.

“Hello, Luka. Sorry I’m late” he apologizes, moving his gaze over my shoulder to look inside.

“It’s ok- come in, we still have some food and drinks if you’re hungry” I nervously gesture to him to get inside. He shakes his head in negation.

“No, actually- I’m here just to pick Marinette up. We have to go now” At his words, Marinette stands up and meekly nods at her husband.

“Oh- Again?"

My tongue slips, dammit! but Adrien doesn’t seem to care much and just shows me a sad smile. "Yes… Family matters. You know my father…"

"Of course" I say, turning my head back to look at Marinette. She has a dark expression as she grabs her cardigan and bag to get ready to go. "It's a pity, though. I wish you could stay" My eyes are on Marinette while I say this.

“Yeah, me too…" Adrien sighs and I can tell he means it. The pit in my stomach worsens, guiltier. "Marinette, c’mon!” he rushes his wife.

When Marinette is almost ready to go, Adrien moves towards the elevator. "See you, Luka, everyone. Oh- and Happy Kitty Section debut Anniversary!"

“Bye Adrien” Kitty Section members wave at him from their chairs.

Marinette rushes to follow her husband, her high-heeled shoes doing its characteristic sound that must certainly be annoying the neighbors of the apartment below. She stops when she reaches the door where I'm standing and looks up at me.

“Thank you for inviting us- and for the dinner and- for everything. It was nice seeing you again. I had a great time”

I can clearly see in her expression how she really doesn't want to go. She sighs once and raises on her tip-toes to kiss my cheeks. Nothing special, just la bise- except it seems to last a little longer than usually should have (but that could be my imagination). We exchange a look and she shows me a sad smile before disappearing with Adrien through the elevator doors.

My heart beats faster and I sigh.

How am I supposed to recover from that now? I close the door and return to the table. The rest of the band members are also showing concern.

The fun is over.

“We’ll go too," Ivan says, one arm on his wife’s shoulder and the other holding the baby stroller. "Thank you for having us. It was great seeing you all again” Mylene adds with an honest smile.

“Sure. Take care of the baby” I open the door for them. “Of course. See you soon” Ivan says and they cross the door to the elevator. “Bye” I wave at them.

It's only Rose, Juleka and me now. An even deeper sigh leaves my mouth.

"You really had to do it, Juleka…" I mumble while I sit down and take another shot. I miserably rest my forehead on my hands.

“What are you going to do?” Rose asks.

“What can I do?” I laugh, ironically. “She could have meant anything. It doesn’t mean she feels like that right now, you know? Besides… she’s married. I can’t undo that"

“Don’t pretend you haven’t noticed what she meant. You must have noticed more than any of us”

I know that, dear sister but “Still-” I can’t seem to assimilate it.

“You could have said something- anything at the wedding and she would have turned to your side, you know?” Juleka mutters and it makes me snort.

“Oh, no, Juleka! You know that’s not true! She made her choice. I made mine. I have no claim on her- I never had it, and never will” I shrug, taking another shot to try to cope with my wretched feelings. “Nothing can be done”

“Maybe yes, maybe not...” Juleka teases under Rose’s encouraging humming.

“I don’t want to do this to Adrien. He’s my friend” I blurt out.

“That has nothing to do with him, Luka. It’s for Marinette to decide”

Maybe Juleka is right, “But that doesn’t change the fact I can’t do anything about it”, I tell them, and they can’t disagree or counterattack this time. They pat my back instead, supportive, and Juleka quietly apologizes for pushing it too far.

Tomorrow I’m going to feel horrible after drinking all that alcohol, but I certainly need it.

'What am I supposed to do? Why are you doing this to me, Marinette? I had already resigned a long time ago. Why now? So unfair...' I swallow another shot.

____________________________

The doorbell buzz awakes me. When did I fall asleep? When did I even arrive back at my apartment? My memories are blurry. The tour was so tiring, no wonder I'm exhausted. I stand up and, still numb, move to open the door.

Marinette.

I need to blink a few seconds to process what's happening. Am I dreaming? No, I don't think so. Why does she look even more surprised than me? Why are her eyes so red?

"Luka? Why are you here?" Her question confuses me.

"I live here? Shouldn't I be the one asking instead?"

Marinette squeaks at my answer band blushes in embarrassment. "Oh, right. Juleka said- you were coming back next week and-" she's rambling, just like old times…

"Wait- Juleka said what?" I sigh. My sister knows my schedule perfectly, why would she…? Oh, right. "She's gonna hear me"

"No, please!" Marinette begs me with sparkling eyes. "She only tried to help me! Don't get angry at her! Please…?"

Marinette really knows how to play her cards against me, huh. I guess I'll let it slip this time. Mostly, because there's something I'm more concerned about than that now.

"She helped you? What happened? Have you been crying?" She seems to be desperate. I haven't seen her like that since- she married Adrien maybe? The way she avoids my eyes indicates something serious may have happened. I'm more than worried now. More after her minute of silence.

"I- I ran away from home" she finally confesses, after a deep breath. "I have nowhere to go and Juleka told me I could stay here meanwhile since you were out on tour. She gave me her spare key. I'm sorry, I didn't know-"

"You escaped? Why? What happened?" I try to remain as calm as I can while I attempt to understand the situation.

Marinette avoids my eyes again and bits her lower lip.

"I- I asked Adrien for divorce" she responds in an automatic flat voice, after a hopeless sigh. "For the second time…"

I gasp. "What? Divorce…? Why…?" I can't hide my astonishment. She sighs again.

"I've fallen out of love, Luka. I don't love Adrien anymore. I'm not sure I ever did. That place- the Agreste's- it doesn't feel like home. It never did. "She explains. "You can imagine the fuss when I told them…" she says.

I know she's wrong- i can imagine Gabriel Agreste disowning her, doing the impossible to avoid a divorce- and yet still come short in imagination.

"I can't go back, Luka. They won't listen and I feel like a prisoner there. It’s suffocating. Please, can I- can I stay here tonight?" She asks, with a shy smile.

I don't need to think much to give her an answer. "No, you can't"

"What…?" She asks, as if for making sure she heard it correctly.

"You can't stay," I repeat.

She seems shocked. Well, I'm shocked too. What is she even thinking? Did she really think I would say yes?

"Please, Luka! I have nowhere else to go! Adrien is looking for me and I don't want to go back! I can't go back! Please!"

"No, Marinette. You can't stay here. You're a married woman- Adrien's wife, even if you really wanted to divorce. You can't stay here. Plus, I don't want to be involved. Imagine how worse the fuss would become if they find you here" I explain, and she seems to reflect.

My heart aches at her heartbroken and betrayed face. But, what else can I do? Marinette's happiness comes first, like always…*sigh*

"Besides" I continue after my inner thoughts, "fall out of love, you say? That could be a phase, Marinette. I've been a direct witness of the happiness in your eyes when you married Adrien. I'm sure you can make it work out in the end. Isn't that your speciality?" I try to smile, unsure of accomplishing it.

Marinette's eyes focus on mine in a determination that surprises me. "No, Luka. It's not a phase" she says. "I considered it too, for months. But it's not. Remember the drinking game at your place?"

'I knew I should have stopped that stupid game when I had the chance. I'm stupid'

I nod and she continues. "I meant every word of it"

It's my turn to open my mouth in a 'O'. I don't know how to respond.

"I regret choosing Adrien over you, Luka. There has always been that voice in my heart- that emptiness… and I think it was you. All this time- my missing piece to be 'happier'. I truly believe that is you" The more she talks the more my words get stuck in my throat.

"You don't know that, Marinette" I can finally manage to answer. "There's no guarantee it would have worked between us. You followed your heart, and there's no mistake in that. I think you shouldn't regret it. And I also think you should go back to Adrien and sort things out"

Why does she have to make it so hard for me? Can't she see how much it hurt me to let her go? And here I am repeating the same actions from the past...

"I see…" Marinette lowers her face. "So I'm too late, huh? You don't love me anymore… of course you wouldn't, after 10 years..."

How many times is she planning to surprise me today?

"Marinette, listen-"

"Marinette"

A new known voice interrupts me and Marinette jolts and trembles in fear.

Adrien.

"So here's where you hid every time you disappeared, huh?" His cold voice makes Marinette's face turn white he takes some steps closer and directs his speech to me next. "I didn't expect that from you, Luka. I thought we were friends!" He yells, and Marinette hides behind me. "You never stopped until you confused her! Forcing your feelings on her! I knew you had never stopped loving her. But she's my wife, dammit! Just accept your defeat and stay away from her!"

I almost forgot how jealousy has always been one of Adrien's biggest flaws. Somehow, I'm not surprised by his words. He's still the same he was ten years ago… This is so tiring to deal with...

"Adrien" I try to sound calm to counteract his wrath. "I think you're misunderstanding everything, as usual. Come in"

I open the door and Adrien and Marinette reluctantly follow me inside.

"Listen. First of all; Marinette has never spent any time with me recently, besides the last few minutes when she arrived. See? My suitcase and my flight ticket. I've just come back after months of touring. You can check it online if you don't believe me" 'but I think that, as my friend, you should already know that' I keep to myself.

Adrien's nose scrunches while examining my boarding pass. I continue.

"Secondly: I don't know where Marinette has been going, but I just suggested she should go back home. With you" he seems surprised at this. "I don't want to be mixed up with your problems, Adrien, no matter what my feelings are. It hurts me that you thought I would. Marriage is something that involves two people- only the two of you. Perhaps you should put more walls around it but" I know his father has been part of their problems, "but, in any case-  just don't drag me in your issues, please. It's for you two to resolve them, not me."

Marinette looks embarrassed at my words, in guilt for her childish actions. It wasn't my intention to make her feel bad, but I'm speaking my honest feelings.

And I'm also protecting myself. I don't want to be hurt again by false hope. And if there really is the tiny possibility… it would go down the drain with a bad start like this. I'm being selfish in my own way.

"And third: I'm disappointed. I thought we were friends, Adrien. I thought I always made it clear how I was a friend to you- of yours. When have my feelings gotten in your way? As far as I'm concerned, they only helped you realize your own feelings, after your 'just a friend' self lies" Adrien's anger seems to have been replaced by shock. "And you come here and accuse me out of nowhere? This is not what a friend does, Adrien. I'm just an easy excuse for you, aren't I?  You just don't want to face the problems, so you blame me instead for them. Stop using me to justify what you can't control. I know it's hard to be rejected- and to face some kind of problems, but you just have to, no matter how hard it is"

Adrien looks apologetic and Marinette seems to relax a little, looking at him in some sort of pity. I know they meant nothing bad, but they are acting like kids. I’m too tired for this.

"Just talk, listen to each other, come to an understanding- give in, if necessary- and accept each other's resolutions, even if they hurt. Like adults"

Once again, Adrien shoulders tense in embarrassment. But he soon calms down and composes himself.

"I'm so sorry, Luka. You're right. I have no right to get angry at you. I'm sorry for jumping in conclusions… I overreacted. I'm very sorry for what I said" I nod and Adrien understands I'm accepting his apology- even if there's also guilt in me because of my inner wishes. He moves to hold one of his wife's hands, but she rejects it. He insists holding her tighter next, and she finally gives in to listen. "Marinette. Let's sort this out, together. I promise I listen to what you have to say. I promise I won't let my father interfere with us anymore. Come back home, please?"

Adrien sounds sad and my heart can almost feel his pain. Marinette is not looking at him. Instead, she's partly hiding behind me, squeezing my shirt. She seems determined to stay and Adrien sighs.

"I'm sorry, Luka. Can I ask you to take care of her for now? She's so stubborn sometimes… I'll be back at home. I hope you come back soon. Bye, Luka, and thank you"

"Of course, Adrien. I'll send her home in a minute. See you later” I say, and Marinette gives me a betrayed painful look.

As if it wasn't painful for me…

Adrien crosses the door and leaves me alone with Marinette, who seems ready to confront me with a mix of anger and sadness.

"Why did you say that!? I told you I don't want to go back! I can't go back!" She yells in anger "I thought- I thought you meant it that evening, when you drank that shot! Why are you encouraging me to go to Adrien? I thought you still… I was ready to move on…with you"

If only she knew how long I wished for these words… And if she really means it- I can't let the chance go down the drain. I want to tell her I'm doing this for my own selfish reasons. Being Marinette, I'm sure she'll understand. I place my hands on her shoulders to catch her attention.

"Marinette" she jolts at her name being called. "Do you mean it? Because, it’s ok if you don’t but, if you really really do mean it- Is this how you plan to start something new? With rotten core and corrupted baggage from a previous relationship? A bad start would only lead to a worse ending. I haven't been in stand by just to ruin it before it even becomes real" Marinette keeps her eyes on mine, listening carefully. "You have to sort things out with Adrien, first. And" I continue "when you do, I'll be here for whatever you need me"

Her eyes get teary and a little sad, but she seems to start understanding. I keep explaining myself.

"Because- I don't want you to move to me just because it didn't work with Adrien and I'm the easiest choice for being in love with you. What I want never changed, Marinette. I want you to be happy. That's all"

Marinette remains quiet, reflecting and assimilating my words. I've never been good with them.

"But Luka…" she calls me "I've been thinking about this for months. I told you, remember? I want to be happier… with you" she says, staring at my eyes. I freeze, remembering how she drank that shot that evening. Her next words don't make it any better. "I've loved you before, years ago, and I still do. What if I'm too late when Adrien and his father finally allow me to divorce and go separate ways? There will probably be a trial, the press, the fuss- it could take so long…"

"Oh, Melody... I've loved you for more than 10 years, expecting nothing. Knowing I didn't stand a chance, accepting my place and respecting your boundaries. Always encouraging your happiness... Why do you think I never married or dated anyone for so long? Can't you see it? I can never stop loving you. So- what's another 10 years when there's a tiny bit of hope now?" I give her an honest reassuring smile and she blushes.

"Will you give me a chance, then?" She has hope in her eyes and her face comes closer. I fight the urge to kiss her, not wanting to ruin things before they even begin. Patience.

"Only if you still want so after you talk to Adrien and sort things out" I answer. She holds my shirt in her hands and I offer her a lovestruck smile I hadn't planned to show her. She grins back in hope and I melt. "I'll be here as long as you want me. In any way you need me. You owe me nothing. Just be honest to your heart and find your clarity"

Marinette nods happily and soon reaches to kiss me, but I turn my face just in time so she misses my lips and her kiss falls on the corner of them. She makes a disappointed grumpy sound, but I kiss her forehead instead, like in old times.

"Go back home, Marinette Agreste. I'll be here whenever you need me. Oh- and congratulations on your dress- I knew it would be a hit. I saw it in the onboard shopping catalog. You’re amazing"

"Thank you, Luka. I'll be going back" she says, taking a step behind and giving me my apartment's spare key she got from Juleka. "See you later" she smiles, before crossing the door.

"See you later" I answer. My love struck smile fixed in place as I see her disappear inside the elevator.

She does look happier and at peace with herself. I try to keep my feet on the ground, but I can't help it but hope: maybe I really do stand a chance this time.

Good thing I've always been patient.

________________

A pair of shot glasses and a half-empty bottle of gin and tonic rested on the table of Luka's apartment.

"Never have I ever wished to kiss you"

Two glasses get emptied and refilled.

"Never have I ever thought you would really wait another five years for me"

The previous action is repeated, between giggles.

"Never have I ever dreamed for you to love me back"

And again.

And suddenly, Marinette says:

"Never have I ever thought I could be happier than now"

Lips curl into wide smiles as the shot glasses remain untouched at the affirmation. Instead of drinking, the newlyweds kiss with sincere love.

They definitely couldn't be happier.

FIN

[glittercracker]

Kingkiller Crap

So, I’ve never really posted much here that involves my own thoughts. There are a number of reasons why, but whatever. I feel the need NOW to post some thoughts, and having no working independent blog (yet!) I suppose this is the place to dump them. PSA: none of this is about anime. None of this is frivolous or fun. TW for sexual abuse. You have been warned! So. I’ve been rereading the Kingkiller Chronicles. aka “Name of the Wind” and “The Wise Man’s Fear” and “That Other One That Shall Not Be Named.” This reread was, at the beginning, almost an afterthought. A way to keep my 13 yo happy on a 7 hour car ride. Except, he could not have cared less, and I got sucked back into the story (and okay, if that is how all our audiobook car rides go, meh? At least it keeps me sharp!) I raced through book one, and bought book 2 on audible with an eye to my upcoming surgery and recooperation. Book one was problematic in the places I remembered, but also as generally engaging as I remembered. And then book 2 happened, and surgery happened, and I have had weeks to lie in bed listening to this bloody interminable sequel, and I find myself lost in a morass of, “WTF was I ever THINKING?” Namely, how did I ever love this book enough to pine for the next? It’s been hard to put a finger on exactly what is making this time through book 2 both a slog and also vaguely, creepily uncomfortable, but if you’re interested, my rather stream-of-consciousness ramble of thoughts ensues. First, the male gaze that rears its head at times in book 1 predominates here. But while I don’t love the way Kvothe describes women, I also have 2 degrees in literature, and I’m beyond that being a reason not to read an otherwise engaging book. Second, Kvothe is a Gary Stu, for all of Rothfuss’s protestations to the contrary. Again, so far, so much traditional high fantasy. But while, say, Aragorn is content to just quietly be Awesome At Everything, Kvothe is a braggy little shit of a Gary Stu: the person you hated for announcing their perfect scores in that hs class you could never quite master. I could fill several pages with examples, but for some reason what really made me want to kick him in the head was not Felurian’s disbelief of his virginity (though really, jfc, REALLY?) Nope, it was the end of his time w the Ademrae (sp may be off, remember, I’m listening not reading!) when he crows about having learned the history of his sword 2 days earlier than expected. Why does this stick out? Oh, idk. Maybe bc he sucks so hard he can’t even get past the first obstacle in his practical final exam? Yet he still has to tell us how fucking awesome he is for remembering 6000 names of previous owners.

I know, I’m supposed to forgive his teenage idiocy. The internet sympathists (no pun intended!) keep telling me this. And I suppose that I would, IF this were a simple first-person narrative - but it isn’t. Let’s repeat that, and really think about it. This story is being narrated by an older and presumably wiser Kvothe who has lost everything - whose abilities have been expunged to the extent that he can’t open his own chest of Cool Stuff. He shows humility in his actions, mostly. And yet when discussing his 16 yo self, the humility evaporates, and he speaks with no kind of perspective or lens of accrued wisdom. He still compares women to instruments waiting for the “right” player (i.e. him) and defends this choice of words by saying, essentially, “You aren’t a musician, you don’t know!”

Interesting assumption for an innkeeper in a medieval-esque world. Interesting assumption if this is in fact authorial interjection, too, because I suspect the majority of this book’s audience *are* musicians to at least an extent, and I also suspect that the majority of us (yes, us - I own several beloved instruments, including a harp custom made for me as a wedding present from my husband) would not equate a human lover to even the most beloved of instruments.

But all of this is well-trodden critical ground. As far as I can tell, though, my third issue isn’t: although it’s perhaps the most glaringly tone-deaf example of all of Rothfuss’s excruciatingly tone-deaf portrayal of his world’s women. Namely, the two girls kidnapped and gang-raped by the fake Ruh.

Almost all of the criticism I’ve read on this section of TWMF concentrates on Kvothe’s treatment of the girls’ abusers. What’s interesting is that no one ever seems to write about Kvothe’s treatment of the girls themselves. Yes, he treats them kindly. He tends their wounds, he feeds them, he tries (and succeeds, of course) to draw Ellie out of her shocked stupor. 

Yet what he never once does, from the moment he takes control of the situation, is ask their opinions on any of this, including what their next step should be. He just decides to bring them back to their families - families who, in this type of society, might well disown them for being “ruined”. And the girls themselves, namely the intelligent and savvy Krin, seem to go blindly along with what he says. Why? Would Krin at least not question this, or object to his making decisions for her, when a group of men had so recently and brutally taken away all of her agency? Would she not question whether being brought back to her family is the best thing for the catatonic Ellie?

Okay, apparently not. So they return to their apparently very forgiving town. Kvothe stands up for the girls against the village shithead: thank you, Kvothe, bc I’m sure Krin could not have said those words herself. He assures the reader that they are with people who will love and care for them despite what has happened to them: thank you, Kvothe, though it’s stretching my credulity a bit that you would assume that no one will take issue with their deflowering. But then he “gifts” the girls the spoils of his slaughter: the horses, the valuables, the wagons. And I was about to give him a (grudging) pass for being decent about this, EXCEPT: he goes on to say that these goods are meant for the girls’ dowries. Specifically, to make them worth enough financially for potential husbands to overlook their loss of virginity. He even tells Krin not to settle for a less-than-lucrative marriage.

And suddenly, I was outraged. Why? Because a man who had witnessed the full extend of these women’s abuse brought them back to a backwater town believing that he was being magnanimous both in doing so, and in giving up whatever share he might have taken of the spoils of the debacle to make them financially lucrative marriage prospects. Because he never asked these traumatized girls if they might rather cut and run with the money than use it to make some man overlook their abuse in order to make them his property. He never even questions the idea that they will be grateful to submit to marriage contracts that will no doubt require them to have sex with their husbands, even though these women have been abused to the extent that they cannot sit a horse for *two days* after being rescued. And the worst part is that 20-something frame-story Kvothe doesn’t question this either; he just goes on to gloat about people singing songs about his daring rescue. Maybe I was just ready for a straw to break my benefit of the doubt. Or maybe this really is as outrageous as it feels. Either way, I can’t help being angry at Rothfuss. As a writer, I am very well aware that character and author are not the same thing; that authorial intent is not the same as authorial beliefs. But there are moments in some books when I have to wonder if that line is blurring, and this is one of them. Kvothe has literally JUST left a female-dominated country full of independent women happily doing their own thing. He has given these girls the means to find themselves a situation that will never require them to be beholden to a man again - even houses ffs, in the shape of those 2 wagons, should they want them. There are so many options beyond marriage: I can’t, for instance, think of a medieval society that didn’t have its version of a convent. Or, for Krin at least, why not the University? For that matter, why not marry her himself, and then set her free to do as she likes under the awning of a respectable marriage? 

Instead he returns them to their fathers, and likewise gives their fathers the means to marry them off with no argument. Who, after all, holds the reins of the horses at the end? Why does Kvothe assume that these families will actually use the wealth even in the dubious way that he recommends?

And in this, I think, I am justified in giving Rothfuss the stink-eye. This is one more instance for Kvothe to play the hero with no real attention given to the consequences. Kvothe himself, I think, would be appalled. He has suffered so much deprivation in his life, so often been marginalized, scapegoated, powerless, how on earth could he so easily consign others to that fate? How could he think, loving Denna as he does, having heard her words to the beaten girl in Severin, that buying these girls husbands who will “overlook” their abuse for the sake of wealth is anything but a wretched life sentence for them?

Sigh. There was a time when I desperate awaited book three. Now, given the other women’s lives at stake in this series, I’m not so sure I want to know.

[the-durin-boys]

Sorry Bilbo!

I’ve been gone for a long time, sorry about that!!

--

You like Thorin. There’s a mutual respect between you and for the past few days (weeks but it’s been on the down-low). You have been pushing Thorin to talk to you more and more, waking up early with him, scooping just a little bit more food into is bowl, offering to take up watches and wash the dishes, and while this definitely caught the attention of the entire company (Bilbo not included) it certainly hasn’t  been picked up by the Dwarf King, one of the sharpest yet most oblivious people you know. And that’s how you started your day, waking up early and gently waking everyone else before Thorin could kick them awake. You then had Bilbo help you make up a quick breakfast and get everyone on their feet and ready to start the day.

Balin was the first to wake after you, and though his eyes aren’t as good as they used to be, he can still see the stolen glances you take in Thorin’s direction, so when Thorin does wake, Balin sits down next to his king, but in this moment, his friend. 

“Are you oblivious or just cruel, old friend?” Thorin blinks, not fully understanding the question. 

“What do you speak of so early in the morning?” Balin sighs and smiles. 

“The lassie. She isn’t exactly being subtle about anything.” Thorin begins to roll up his bedroll. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Balin just shakes his head and pats Thorin on the shoulder before walking away and muttering under his breath, a big smile on his face. 

“Poor oblivious man.”

On the other side of the camp, you’re sitting with Bilbo, taking your time in tying the water skins to your belt, so caught up in your little world that you don’t even notice yourself letting out a dreamy sigh. Bilbo looks at you and quirks an eyebrow, puffing into his pipe as he does so. 

“Something on your mind, (Y/N)?” You don’t even mean to glance up at Thorin, but all you’ve been thinking about for the past ten minutes is how Thorin reacted to being woken up. You had to be gentle, of course (Thorin is a warrior always on guard), so when you woke Thorin up, you had to catch his dagger. Thorin was confused, still mostly asleep but it only took a few words of reassurance and then, for some odd reason, Thorin and his sleep clouded mind tucked his cheek into your hand and gently kissed your palm, saying:

“Good morning, Amrâlimê.” After which he dozed, leaving you with a bright red face and fingers tangled in his hair. As soon as you were able to slip away from Thorin, you had to take a good long while to settle your beating heart and cool your flaming cheeks before you could actually wake the rest of your friends. 

Bilbo’s eye catches yours and he’s quick to follow your line of sight to see Thorin. His eyes move away from Thorin who’s standing with Balin, discussing something or the other, and back to you. Bilbo sputters on his pipe and he stands. You, confused and concerned, stand also, trying to comfort your brother out of his coughing fit, but all Bilbo does is wave the mouthpiece of his pipe in your face. 

“No. Absolutely not. I do agree, and as your brother, I forbid you from doing anything with that man.” You make an offended sound and knock Bilbo’s pipe away from your face. You feel your cheeks flush as you glance over Bilbo’s shoulder and see Thorin looking your way. 

“Excuse you, Bilbo, I think I will do whatever I please, thank you very much.”

“I am your brother-”

“Not my father.” 

“If he was here he would agree with me. You are being reckless and you should have never come, you are in constant danger, and now you’re throwing yourself at some-some-some dwarf who you’ve only just met!” The resounding sound from the back of your hand against Bilbo’s cheek completely silences the entire camp as everyone stares in shock. Bilbo stumbles back into the arms of Ori, but he’s quick to his feet and storms towards you, furious. You don’t back down, puffing your chest and staring him in the eyes. As Bilbo approaches you with determination, Thorin steps forward, quickly placing himself between you and your brother. Bilbo huffs, staring behind Thorin and to you, and you do nothing to hide your vicious glare.

“Bilbo. That is enough. You need to calm down.” You bite at your lip as Bilbo cowers under the mighty stare of the King, and you feel tears pick up in your eyes. 

“Thorin,” You gently place a hand on his arm. Thorin looks down at you, but you don’t look up at him, tears welling. “It’s okay. I was the one that hit him.” You look up at Bilbo who’s shoulders relax at the sight of your tears. “I’m sorry Bilbo.” 

“(Y/N)-” Bilbo steps forward and you take two steps back, quickly swiping up your bag and making your way into the surrounding bush.

“I’ll be back.” 

“(Y/N), I’m sorry!” Bilbo tries to run after you but is stopped by Thorin’s arm. 

“Master Baggins.” Thorin gently pushes the burglar back towards the camp. “I will go after her. I do not think it wise to continue to ignite the situation.” Bilbo wants to protest but he knows that Thorin is right, and that he shouldn’t have said those things to you during your argument, because in all honesty, Thorin is a respectable dwarf who would never do anything to you, but you are Bilbo’s little sister, and he didn’t want you coming for fear of you getting hurt or dying, and now he can see that you aren’t so little anymore and that scares him, so Bilbo just sits down with his back to the company and relights his pipe, muttering angrily to himself.

Thorin, true to his word, quietly follows after you, stepping carefully through the undergrowth trying to find you before something else does. He follows gently in your footsteps, careful not to lose the very angry trail that you’re leaving behind. As he approaches you, he tries to make himself known, as to not startle you when he called for your attention.

“Who does he even think he is? I’m not a fauntling, I make my own decisions!” Thorin hears the distant clack of a rock being thrown, and as he enters the clearing that you’ve sat yourself in, he sees you lob another rock an impressive distance followed by some angry mumbling as you search for another rock. Thorin, despite himself, smiles and picks up a rather interesting looking rock - valueless, but with pretty colors that he thinks you’ll like. 

“Try this rock, I think you’ll like it.” You flinch, startled. 

“Thorin!” You exclaimed. “You scared me!” He smiles. 

“Apologies, that was not my intention.” He offers the rock to you and you gently take it out of his hand, turning it over in your palm. You look it over, but instead of throwing it like you have all the other rocks, you pocket it. “You know it’s not safe to be out here alone.” Your cheeks flush red and you look away from him. 

“I know, I’m sorry. I overreacted.” Thorin hums and for a minute neither of you say anything. 

“If I may ask, what happened to upset you so?” You look at him but don’t say anything, and for a brief moment, Thorin’s stomach twists in fear that he asked a personal question. You haven’t even known each other for long, of course you wouldn’t want to answer that. Mahal, you must be feeling so uncomfortable right now-

“Bilbo doesn’t see me as an adult. He treats me like I’m a faunt.” Thorin almost sighs from relief. “I mean, I’m an adult, I’m capable of making my own decisions! I don’t need him interfering with my life and the choices that I choose to make!” You pause for a second, hand reaching into the pocket with the rock. You fiddle with it for a moment, staring out into the woods. “Like I know that he’s trying to do his best, cause we’re the only family that we have, but that doesn’t mean that I can’t take care of myself. He didn’t even want me to come with him! It’s ridiculous!” You sigh. “I’m sorry, I just dumped a whole lot on you, didn’t I?” 

“It’s alright,” Thorin assures. “Sometimes you just need someone to talk to. Though I don’t think you should have hit Bilbo.” 

“I know!” You bury your face in your hands, the tips of your ears turning a burning red. “He just made me really upset, and I would never even do that! But he was talking about my love life like that’s something that he gets a say in, and I-!” You sigh. “I don’t know. I need to apologize to him, I acted brash and rude, not very Hobbit-like of me at all. Perhaps I’ll bring him back a flower crown. He’ll like that.” 

“Oh?” Thorin looks at you incredulously. “What will a flower crown do?” You seem to perk up at Thorin’s question.

“Oh, well you see, flowers have different meanings, but when you put them together, they can spell out a message like ‘I’m sorry,’ or ‘I love you,’. I don’t really know where to start looking though, maybe I can pick some while we walk, I don’t want to take up too much time.” 

“Don’t worry about time. We have a river in our path, but because of the rain last night, it is probably too swollen to cross. We’ll be waiting around for a while anyways.” You look up at him with big round eyes. 

“Are you sure?”

“As long as you teach me how to make a crown.”

“Really?” Thorin nods.

“A favor for a favor.” You smile up at him, and Thorin feels his heart jump as he returns the affection. “Should we get started?”

The pair of you are out in the woods for far too long, but time seems to escape Thorin as you ramble on about different flowers. He had no idea that they could mean so many things.

“My cousin, she’s a Sackville-Baggins - wretched woman - sent over twenty-four bouquets of orange lilies! Can you believe the nerve of her? Right after I helped her weed her garden too. Apparently, I pulled too many weeds and then her flowers started to die. To die! I had to tell her that that’s not how gardening works, and I even sent over a close friend of mine to help her out! He was very much obliged, but he was sent make in the same hour, and behind him, orange lilies!” Thorin hands you another blue hyacinth, which you take absently as you continue to talk, weaving it into the crown with ease. You managed to find a small field of different flowers, and you were overjoyed, grabbing Thorin by the hand and tugging him towards it to find a spot to sit.

“What do orange lilies mean?”

“They mean hatred. And she sent a lot of them, too. Let me tell you, she was not invited to afternoon tea that day. That showed her. Though she never formally apologized, she did send over one blue hyacinth, which was good enough for her apparently.” You tie off the flower and sigh, looking over the crown. “Do you think Bilbo will like it? I hope he accepts it, I feel really bad about the whole situation.” Thorin smiles gently at you, a smile that you do not see, but that’s okay. 

“I think he will.” Thorin picks a white flower next to him. “What is this?” You set the crown in your lap.

“That’s a daisy.” You gently take it from him, your fingers brushing his. “It means innocence and purity.” 

“And this?”

“That’s a daffodil. It means regard and chivalry.” Thorin lets you take the flower as he picks another. 

“What does this one mean?”

“That flower is a white heather. It symbolizes protection.” You also take this flower, and you take a second to ponder a thought as you look over the flowers in your hand. “Thorin, is it okay if I make you one? A crown, I mean.” Thorin looks surprised. 

“Only if I may make you one as well.” You grin.

“You don’t even know how!”

“Well I do have an amazing teacher here with me, don’t I?” 

“That you do.” And then you set off, Thorin close behind, and yet again, time passes by much too quickly.

“This...is much harder than I thought.” You laugh, bumping your shoulder against his as you watch Thorin struggle to weave together steams. 

“You’re doing great!” Thorin frowns. The flowers are falling apart and the band of the crown is loose. 

“I don’t feel like I’m doing great.”

“You’re doing much better than I did when I first learned how to make crowns. At least yours is being held together, I couldn’t get mine to stay for two weeks!” You giggle as Thorin lets out a frustrated sigh. “Here, let me.” You carefully take the crown from his hands, fiddling with the stems for a second before giving a gentle tug to one, and then the whole crown tightens. “See? There you go, all better.” Thorin takes the crown back from you. He had taken a while picking out the flowers, asking you the different meanings. The colors of the crown clash, but you’ve reassured him many times that the colors don’t matter, it’s the message that he’s trying to convey that matters. The crown is filled with carnations and asters. Thorin thinks that it looks rather simple but you’ve told him that you think that it’s beautiful. Your crown, on the other hand, is one that Thorin envies. 

It’s magnificent, full of different colors, each flower weaving in and out, creating a pattern on the crown so complex that once you think you’ve found it, another one appears. Thorin doesn’t know a lot of the flowers, and he can’t remember most of the meanings, but he does know that he’s going to wear it with pride. He does remember daisies though, innocence and purity, but he hasn’t commented on how many of those are in the crown. He sees the white heather and another white flower, one that you said was a gardenia. You said that it indicates purity and sweetness. Another flower thrown into the mix are the yellow acacias, but you wouldn’t tell Thorin what they meant. 

“Well, I think I’m all done with my crown. May I?” You ask as you lift the crown that you made. Thorin smiles and tips his head towards you, and you gently set the crown on his head, trying not to think about how your fingers were tangled in his hair just his morning. The crown sits heavier than Thorin thought. He straightens out and you look at him with pride, and suddenly, Thorin’s hands are shaking as he lifts your crown. You also tilt your head, and Thorin sets the crown onto your hair, the softness not going unnoticed. You straighten back out and give him a goofy smile.

“Now we match.” Thorin smiles. 

“That we do.” And then everything is quite, comfortable, and Thorin can’t help but think about how beautiful you look, with the sun in your hair and a smile in your eyes. His eyes flick to your lips, soft and full, and he’s leaning down, and then your lips meet his and the kiss is gentle and it’s sweet as you lean into him and the break for air only lasts for a second before you’re connected again, Thorin’s hands finding their way to your waist as your fingers tangle in his hair. His fingers hook under the edge of your shirt, hand smoothing over your bare stomach as his lips make their way to the crook of your neck. He tugs you closer, and you straddle him, settling into his lap with ease.

“Thorin…” You whisper, and it isn’t anything but his name, but it’s enough for him as he gently moves you to lay in the field of flowers beneath him, pushing up your shirt as you unclip his coat. He dips down again to nip at your neck as you tug at his hair and-

“Thorin Oakenshield you get off of my sister this instant!” Thorin is ripped away by the back of his shirt and you yelp in surprise. 

“Bilbo!” Bilbo ignores you as he yanks Thorin up to his feet. 

“Just what do you think you’re doing? To my SISTER?” 

“Bilbo, I-” Thorin stammers as he tries to right his hair. 

“Are you wearing a flower crown?” Bilbo turns to you. “You made him a flower crown? You’re wearing a flower crown?”

“Well, yes.” You hide your face the best that you can in your hair. “I wanted to make one for you, and Thorin escorted me-”

“He ESCORTED you? I wouldn’t call this escorting you at all! You made him a flower crown! A very obvious flower crown!”

“I did make you one!” You look to your side where you left it, only to see that it had been accidentally crushed. “But, um, it - uh..” Bilbo looks to the apology crown that you made him, and then back to Thorin, and then back to you. 

“Does Thorin know what his crown means?” You flush deep red.

“Well, I mean, kind of?”

“Kind of? Kind of?!”

“Well I told him some of what it means, just not all of it..”

“And what does it mean, (Y/N)?”

“It means ‘I love you’..” Thorin looks to you, eyes wide., 

“That’s right.” Bilbo turns to Thorin. “And do you know what that means Thorin?”

“It means that she loves me?” 

“And what do you feel about that?”

“Well I feel that I love her as well.” Bilbo looks shocked, looking between you and Thorin, before finally landing on you. 

“You are so lucky that I came out here by myself.” He turns to Thorin. “If I catch you again, so help me Yavanna. You will treat her right,” Bilbo pokes a finger into Thorin’s chest. “You will love her, you will cherish her, and if you so much as make her cry..” Bilbo doesn’t finish his sentence but Thorin gets the picture. 

“On my honor, I will love her as my Queen, and as my One.” Bilbo glares at Thorin a second more before he seems satisfied. 

“The reason why I came out here was to tell you that breakfast is ready, and the group is looking for you.” Bilbo says as he turns away. You and Thorin share a look before you’re swept up into Thorin’s arms, and you laugh as you throw your arms around his neck. Thorin sets you down before cradling your face into a kiss. 

“THORIN!” You pull away and look over Thorin’s shoulder to see Bilbo glaring at you. 

“Sorry Bilbo!”

--

Words: 3198

The flower crown that Thorin is wearing means love, secret love, longing, purity, and sweetness.

[fixxofvixx]

Stay With Me - Demon Leo AU - Chapter 23

Hello my lovelies! I know it's been forever since I updated! I blame Final Fantasy VII Remake. It took my soul and never gave it back. I beat the game but I keep playing it. It has a special place in my heart.

Anyway, you didn't come here to see me rambling about my love for fictional sexy game heroes lol. I hope you enjoy the chapter and let me know what you think! 💚💚

😈😈😈😈😈

Your lungs burned with every new step you took. Thanks to Leo, you had a basic knowledge of the layout of the forest and which path to take to hide. You could hear the men behind you, calling out for you to show yourself.

*Y/N, we need to find a place to hide.* The lynx had no problem keeping pace with you. You dove behind a large tree to catch your breath for a moment.

*I...I-I don't know where....* The tears in your eyes made it hard to see the path before you. You had no idea who these men were and how they got into Leo's house when you knew it was warded from intruders. Sibena placed herself in front of you and snapped at you.

*Y/N! Get your act together! If you hesitate, we die. My master didn't give you his soul for you to throw it away. Now, move!" Sibena snapped at your arm hanging at your side and it caused you to shake out of the haze of fear you were in. With a deep breath, you took off into the woods again. You wanted to seek protection with the animals in the forest but considering those men looked like hunters, you didn't want any of them to get hurt. You would have to take care of this on your own. At least....until Leo returned.

You frantically looked around for a place to hide. You eventually came to the large meadow where you had found Leo after Hakyeon had taken him. The large tree was still standing there. For some reason, you ran towards it, hoping to possibly climb it to get away from the three. The meadow put you out in the open however but there was nowhere else to go. As soon as you took off into the meadow, one of the men shouted.

"She's there!" You heard their heavy footsteps behind you and your heart pounded in your chest. Something suddenly whizzed by you and then you noticed the pain in your arm. Looking down, you saw a gash on your arm, the fabric of your sleeve had been cut as well. Blood slowly seeped from the wound.

You ignored the pain as you reached for the first branch of the tree. Dejavu flashed in your head to when you'd done the same looking for Leo. You hoped he would be back soon and help you. Sibena easily launched herself into the tree beside you. Your arm was in agonizing pain now and you wondered if what they had thrown at you was poisoned.

"Aw, come on down, sweetie, we just want to talk." The largest of the three sauntered up to the tree and smiled up at you. He seemed to be the leader of the group.

"Like hell you do. We can talk from here. What do you want?" Your voice shook from the pain and fear coursing through your body.

"Where's your demon?"

"Why do you want to know?" You eyed the other two men as they slowly circled the tree on either side.

"We have some......unfinished business with him. Surely, he's told you about us?"

"No...and how did you get in the house? It's warded from outsiders."

"Well, that's easy. We were already in the house. We've been there for years. You've seen us too."

Confusion set into your features.

"I'm pretty sure I would have noticed three men walking around the house. Try again."

"You're not thinking hard enough. You've even held us in your hands, fleeting as it was. But it was nonetheless exciting! Think, woman!"

You thought over and over and finally it dawned on you.

"Oh my god, the statue!?" Your answer was almost a whisper, afraid to really say it outloud.

"Bingo. Although, we could never hear your voice, we've seen you many times. Shacked up with that wretched demon of yours, letting him touch you. What sins you must have committed! We assumed you were his captive at first but...well, we know now exactly what you are. We would offer to help you but I fear that might be in vain."

"Help me with what?" The other two were on the left and right of you now. They waited patiently on the ground, anticipating their leaders command to come after you.

"Get rid of the demon, of course! Didn't he tell you what we are?" You shook your head and the man laughed. "Demon hunters, my dear, we kill his kind."

Your heart lurched at the thought of these men hunting down Leo. But then realized that they had been trapped in that statue. You smirked at them, crossing your arms over your chest.

"Well, I'm guessing you aren't very good at it, since he trapped you in that statue."

"Not until after we killed his brothers. The demon king created six sons. There are only four now. The more we kill of the hierarchy, the less demons they can create."

You gasped and looked at Sibena.

*It's true. I wasn't aware of how they died but I do know my master mentioned that they were dead.*

Sorrow filled your heart for the loss of Leo's brothers. That sorrow was quickly replaced by anger. These men took Leo's family from him. You knew what that felt like.

"You bastards....."

"Aww, are you angry that you can't have more demons all over you. You smell of him, you know. You are a disgrace to the human race!"

"What the hell have they ever done to you?! If you want to hunt, do it to provide for families who are hungry. Why would you hunt other people?!"

"These.....things.....aren't people, sweetheart. They're a blight on the planet! They shouldn't exist!"

"Well, maybe they think the same about you! So what if they are different? Just because they don't look or live the same way as you, doesn't mean they are less than you!" Once you finished your sentence, you heard movement behind you. You looked around and screamed at one of the hunters who had snuck up on you when you were talking.

He made a grab for you but you were able to dodge it. He let out a growl in anger and you saw that some of his teeth were filed down to sharp points. His hair was long and greasy. Knives and other various weapons clinked around his waist. You moved quickly to the right and hauled yourself up onto the next branch. You could hear them close behind you. You heard Sibena hiss just before the third man howled in pain.

"You damn mangy cat! I'll kill you too!"

*Why does everyone call me MANGY?!?!* You heard Sibena scream in your head and then she lunged at the man, causing him to topple off of the tree along with her.

You quickly climbed higher and higher, desperate to get away from the man that was chasing you. You were almost to the top of the tree now, your fear of heights taking a back seat to the new fear chasing you. You finally ran out of branches and you turned to see the man just below you. You were sweating so much and your lungs hurt from the climbing.

For once, you wished you had wings like Leo to take you away from there. You didn't want to be the weak human anymore.

"I-I'm not a demon so why are you trying to kill me?!" Tears formed in your eyes. You wanted Leo. You wanted his protective arms around you.

"Being a demon's whore is just as bad as being a demon!" The man reached up and grabbed the branch causing it to shake. You tried to keep your balance but he was shaking the branch too hard. He then raised both of his arms and pulled violently on the branch. The wood cracked and you immediately started to fall. You hit the next branch down and landed on your stomach. The force knocked the wind from your lungs. You cried out in pain as the man grabbed your hair and pulled you up.

"What do you wanna do, boss?" The man holding you yelled down to the man on the ground. You couldn't see Sibena or the third man anywhere.

"Just throw her off. Leo will show up eventually and find her. While he's distracted mourning the loss of his plaything, we'll take him out!"

"Well, you heard the man." He didn't hesitate as he pushed you off the branch. You screamed, hitting various twigs and branches on the way down. You closed your eyes, not wanting to see the ground coming towards you. You would have to apologize to Hakyeon when you got to the Underworld. Perhaps he could take his soul back. Leo would take care of Sibena most likely.

After a few seconds, nothing happened. You cracked your eye open and then both eyes opened wide. You were floating in mid air. You looked all around you and noticed the leader of the hunters looked frozen in fear and confusion. You could see a mist forming around you....or maybe it was smoke. Actually......

It looked a lot like demon smoke. But it wasn't Leo's color. It was difficult to tell completely but there seemed to be two different colors. It almost looked like a beautiful coral and emerald swirling together. If this was from a demon, it was one you'd never met before.

You looked down at the hunters again. The man who had pushed you off had joined the leader now. They started to run but a massive stone wall appeared around the meadow. The orb that you were stuck in floated slowly to the ground. Once you were on the ground again, the orb changed shape. Chains of smoke formed tightly around your wrists that attached themselves to two long pillars on either side of you.

"What the hell is this?! What are you doing?!" The leader yelled at you as he ran towards you.

"Does it look like I'm doing this, you moron? Why would I chain myself to two pillars in the middle of a meadow?!"

"She's right, it isn't her." A woman's voice came from above you and you raised your head to see an older woman in a black dress. The cloak she wore matched the chains of smoke that now held you captive. Huge grey wings flapped almost elegantly behind her. She descended until she gracefully touched the ground a few yards from you. She ignored the two men and headed straight for you.

"Now, human, I have some questions for you."

"O-Okay...."

"Is that how you answer someone?! Are you completely lacking in manners?! Try again!" The woman's voice rose to a frightening level and you automatically flinched.

"Y-Yes, ma'am." Your hands shook as the woman got closer. Who the hell was she? She was obviously a demon but why was she targeting you? Where was Leo?

"A slight improvement. Now, you will only answer when I ask a question. Otherwise, you will be silent. Is that understood?"

Not wanting to anger her any further, you nodded your head.

"Speak, you imbecile! Do you understand?!"

"Y-Yes, I-I understand."

"Good. Now, first, why are you in this forest?" You looked up at her in confusion but answered quickly.

"I....I live here."

"Nonsense! Why does a human live in THIS forest! You are trespassing!"

Suddenly, the chains of smoke holding you immobile sent an electric shock through your body. You cried out in pain but somehow managed to stay upright.

"Let's try this again. Why are you in this forest and why do you have the soul of a demon?!"

Lightning suddenly struck the tree and you screamed. Fear shut you down. You could no longer move and the recurring electric shocks sent through the chains were draining your strength. Finally, you fell to your knees.

"You will answer me!" Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the woman raise her hand, ready to strike you. You tensed, waiting for the blow.

"STOP!"

You raised your head to see Leo, Ravi, and Ken a few yards from you. A sigh of relief escaped your body just before Leo appeared in front of you. He knelt before you and curled his hand around your cheek. He felt the shocks going through your body and black smoke filled the area around you.

"You're shocking her?! Release her, NOW!"

"Leo, my dear, this human is trespassing in your forest. I'm simply helping you teach her a lesson."

"She's not trespassing! She lives here, WITH ME! Now, release her!" Leo's voice echoed throughout the meadow.

"Fine, but do not let her escape. I have questions for her." The woman waved her hand and the chains disappeared. With nothing to hold you up, you collapsed onto Leo.

His arms curled around you instantly. He lowered you gently onto the ground and inspected your injuries. He took your hands and inspected your wrists. Small singe marks wrapped around them. He put his hands over them and healed them instantly. He placed his hand over the cut on your arm and healed the cut as well. He smiled slightly at you in a silent apology but you shook your head, telling him you were fine. You took a glance at the hunters and saw them both beneath Ravi's hellhounds.

"Sibena?"

"She's alright. We found her with her kill just a few yards away. She's sharing nicely with the wolves." You nodded and let your head fall to his shoulder.

"I'm sorry, my love. I shouldn't have left you." He kissed your forehead and then you heard the woman scoff.

"Leo, dear, please tell me you're joking. Why on earth is there a human living in this forest? Ah! I understand! You're keeping her around to feed from later! Are you ill? I can help you instead." She reached out her hand towards Leo but he pushed it away.

"I am not ill. She is NOT food. She is mine. I'm her's. We live here together. She is the person I intend to take as my wife."

"Impossible! Never! I will not have this!" The light darkened in the meadow and you tensed, clutching Leo's shirt in fear.

"Well, see here's the thing. I don't require your approval, Mother."

[kinktae]

camellia || pt. 2 (M)

Y/N is a strong-willed herbalist who knows exactly what she wants; she also happens to make some really good tea. Taehyung is a kind but rebellious prince who doesn’t really know what he wants but he knows that the commoner girl who makes fantastic tea can’t be this damn cute.

pairing: prince!taehyung x herbalist!reader

word count: 10k

genre: fluff, smut, prince au

warnings: the smut scene was meant to be a cute one but somehow it turned filthy and I accidentally made Tae into a raging dom oops

A/N: Header created by me! Inspired by one of my favorite animes ever: Snow White with the Red Hair. 

CHAPTERS: 01 | 02

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PART TWO 

Prince Taehyung was never a tea person. So imagine the castle staff's surprise when he began to request homemade tea every night from to room.

You remembered the first time a maid came and found you about the prince's request for your tea. You nodded politely back at her, but couldn't help the smile that crept onto your face.

Even when you arrived at the prince's door, tray in hand, your smile still didn't let up.

Night after night you made Taehyung tea, sitting at the foot of his bed as he always managed to convince you to stay and chat for a while. Taehyung spoke to you about anything and everything; he liked the way you spoke bluntly and didn't shrink yourself around him. Even when the tea was gone and the initial conversation had died, he'd find new things to talk about, no matter how unimportant, just because he liked the sound of your voice.

“What?” You asked one night, noticing that Taehyung had been staring at you for the past few minutes.

“Nothing. I just really like hearing you talk is all.” Taehyung confessed softly, causing you to glance down at your empty teacup, unable to meet his sincere eyes.

It was the small conversations like that one that would linger on your mind as you made your way down the castle halls, a soft tune falling from your lips.

You were grateful for your friendship with the prince; you had been at the castle for two months now and had yet to make many friends if any at all. 

Taehyung had been the one to encourage you as you took the palace pharmacist entrance exam, which would ensure your spot in the castle. You passed with flying colors, and soon enough you found yourself in the position of court herbalist, a title held by only two other people in the palace, both of which you enjoyed working beside, even if neither was near your age.

Every day you worked diligently, spending hours in the greenhouse, notebook in hand as you took notice of any plants that weren't thriving or growing at expected rates. While it wasn't quite the herbal medicine you wanted to practice, you were grateful for whatever work you could get, as measuring stem diameter was still far more of interest to you than stitching up open wounds.

Although not surprised, your father wasn't entirely thrilled that you had taken up an herbalist position over a medicine one, so you had made it a point to do everything you did with enthusiasm with hopes that you could make him proud nevertheless.

"Have you seen the royal tea girl walking around lately?"

An unfamiliar voice swept out in front of you, the words catching you off guard as you halted your steps. Your eyebrows furrowed as you took silent steps forward, peering cautiously around the corner.

"Oh, poor thing, she's filthy."

Your stomach dropped as you watched a group of four women standing in a semi-circle, talking amongst themselves. You hadn’t seen them before, their faces albeit beautiful were unfamiliar. It was clear from their attire that they were noblewoman of some sort.

"Seriously, what does she do all day? Roll around in dirt?" A woman of golden hair scoffed, her curls bouncing slightly as she shook her head lightly.

"I could never imagine having to crawl through dirt all day. I know she's a commoner but has she really no shame as to parade around like that? I wouldn't be caught dead walking amongst royals with soil on my face!" Another spoke, her tan complexion complimenting the white of her teeth.

A round of cruel laugh fell over the group.

You should turn around. You should stop listening and turn around.

You placed a hand against the wall you were hiding against, fingers falling on top of the gold molding that decorated the inside of the palace walls.

"She's lucky her father is the head doctor. It’s the only reason she’s here, you know. She would've been thrown out the moment she started tracking dirt into the castle with those horrid boots of hers if it weren’t for him." The blonde spoke again through a laugh.

Taking a step back, you pulled your eyes away from the women. Your face burned and insides churned as you began to walk away.

You had never overheard anyone speak so ill of you so freely like that before. Is that what everyone at the castle thought of you? That you were nothing more than some dirt covered royal tea girl?

"Y/N?"

A voice called out from behind you, causing you to turn around mid-step.

"Fancy seeing you here." Taehyung grinned, having had just emerged from a room you had passed by.

"Oh, your highness. Forgive me, I didn't see you." You breathed out, not expecting to see the prince now of all people.

"Tae." He corrected.

You glanced around to make sure that the two of you were alone, "Sorry. Tae."

"Are you okay?" Taehyung frowned at your flustered state.

"Yes, why do you ask?"

"You're shaking."

You blinked at his words, swallowing dryly. He was right; your anxiety was off the charts. Did Taehyung think of you in the way those women spoke about you? You could hardly think clearly, all you knew was that you wanted to get as far away from everyone as soon as possible.

"I just..." You began, crossing your arms over your chest. "I overheard something I shouldn't have."

At your words, Taehyung's face fell, a glimmer of concern gracing his warm eyes. Immediately, regret flooded you. You shouldn't bother him with something as trivial as some women not liking you. The prince had far more pressing issues to worry about, you were sure.

"Actually, nevermind. I don't want to bother you. It's really not that important–"

"Y/N." Taehyung cut you off pointedly. "You can talk to me."

You pressed your lips together, eyes flickering away from his worried ones.

"There were some women talking amongst them themselves about me. How my clothes are always dirty–"

"You work with plants. You're an herbalist." Taehyung defended, an angry look on his face.

You let out a sigh, "Only because my father is the head doctor."

Taehyung blinked at you, obviously bewilderedly.

"What?"

"They said the only reason I'm here is because of my father. And honestly, Tae, they're right." You continued, voice breaking slightly as you spoke, your emotions catching up with you.

"What? Come on, you know that's not true." The prince reasoned causing you to shake your head.

"It is true!" You exclaimed, eyes watering.

"I don't belong here! I mean, I've always known that. I'm not poised or refined, not to mention I've been here for two months and every guard still looks at me as if I'm some threat to the crown. Even the cooking staff, every time I walk into the kitchen they look at me like I'm some peasant girl who is going to steal silverware or something!"

Tears fell freely down your cheeks but you couldn't stop your upset rambling

"And it's not like I'm doing anything useful here? I take inventory of plants. That's all I do! That's not helping anyone like I want to. The best thing I contribute to this castle is making stupid god damn tea."

At the sound of a broken sob leaving your lips, Taehyung pulled you into him, wrapping his arms around you.

You hardly had time to be embarrassed at his gesture as you buried your face into his chest. You weren't expecting this wave of emotions, but as Taehyung held you, you felt an overwhelming amount of catharsis fall over you.

You weren't a vulnerable person by any means, you'd rather internalize any insecurities you faced and deal with them privately. So to voice them out loud Taehyung had you feeling outrageously fragile.

Taehyung's hands wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you back. He ran a thumb over a wet cheek, beckoning you to meet his eyes.

"Even if your father got you here, it's you and your knowledge that passed that entrance exam and kept you here. Not him."

You opened your mouth to respond but the prince shushed you.

"I'm sorry the staff hasn't been kind to you. We haven't seen a new face in the palace in years, as you can probably tell by the lack of people our age. They're wary of you, and I'm sorry if they aren't treating you fairly." Taehyung took a breath as if trying to compose his thoughts.

"As for those women, were they staff or were they of nobility?"

You sniffed lightly, "Nobility. Or at least, they were dressed as if they were."

Taehyung scrunched up his nose in distaste, causing your curiosity to pique.

"Countesses." He scowled. "Some of them wives of Earls of neighboring kingdoms. Some of them of Counts. All of them wretched."

Your eyes widened at Taehyung's openly verbal disdain for the countesses. You suppose seeing as he outranked them, he could speak freely against them.

"They come to stay every once and a while. It's meant to encourage friendly relations between kingdoms but if you ask me they just come to pretend that they're more important than they actually are." Taehyung admitted causing a small giggle to escape your lips.

Taehyung stared at you fondly for a moment before speaking again.

"They gossip because they're bored and have nothing better to do. You are more than worthy of a to be here. Certainly more worthy than they are. Being born into nobility doesn't warrant significance. It's what you do with your nobility that matters. Otherwise, your title is meaningless."

For a moment, the two of you stared at each other, once again hit with the realization that despite everything that differentiated the two of you, at the end of the day, you were both more alike then you were different.

A smirk crept up onto the prince’s mouth.

“Are you busy? Would you want to go back to your village with me?”

You paused for a moment, staring back at the prince confusedly.

"Wha– Do you mean right now?" You blinked.

Taehyung nodded back at you enthusiastically.

"If you haven't anything else today, of course. I haven't spent much time there if I'm honest. Who better to give me a tour than someone who actually knows the area and the people? It's time to do something with my title. And I'd love it if you helped me."

Taehyung's words were so sincere and earnest that you found yourself growing warm under his excited stare.

"Of course, I'll help you. I'm done for the day, I just need to change into some clean clothes–"

"Great! I'll meet you at the stables in fifteen minutes?" He asked, sounding hurried.

You grinned, "Alright, see you then."

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It was on your ride back to your village, after Taehyung had lead Yeontan through a hidden path away from the castle that the prince finally confessed that he was meant to be attending a meeting later today. You were quick to scold him in light of his confession but couldn't argue with his defense that going out to see if he could help his people was a good alternative for the routine meeting the heads of royalty and staff usually had.

Unsurprisingly, traveling by horse still hadn't become easier since your first time on Yeontan two months ago. You held on as steadily as you could without hurting the horse or the prince, but you couldn't help but let out a small noise of fear every time Yeontan sped up to a canter, your body bouncing in rhythm to his movements.

Even as you reached your hometown, having had finally stopped at the local stables, with both feet on the ground, you still found yourself weak in the knees.

Taehyung had just finished speaking to the stableman about arranging Yeontan to stay here for the day as a royal horse would draw too much attention anywhere else and headed over to where you stood leaning against the wooden fence, looking weary.

"Why the long face?" He joked as he reached you, causing you to roll your eyes.

"Horse joke. Funny." You mused dryly as you retied your cloak tighter around your neck.

The prince gave you a cheeky grin as he reached for his own cloak, mimicking your actions.

"You really don't like riding horses, do you?"

"It's not my favorite activity." You admitted, beginning to lead the dark haired man into town.

"Really? I would've never guessed by your petrified squeals mid-ride and inability to stand immediately after." Taehyung smirked as he walked beside you.

You shoved your shoulder into his lightly causing him to laugh.

"You know, I could teach you how to ride if you'd like." He offered, causing you to turn to face him.

"Really? Wait... Are you sure that's a good idea?" You contemplated, flashing Taehyung a skeptical look.

He shrugged, "The reason you're scared of falling is a lack of trust in the horse and a lack of trust in yourself. Learning how to ride should help with that."

You let out a hum, stepping over a tree branch that was laid out in front of your path.

"I mean, yes. I'd love to at least try! Only if it isn't a bother, of course."

"Sure. I've got plenty of time to spare. It's not like I do much as prince anyway." Taehyung reminded you, somewhat bitterly.

You offered him a sympathetic smile, "That all changes today."

Taehyung and you were taking a more discrete way into the village. As a little girl, you used to take this path often, as it offered a more scenic route back home. You were a fan of nature from the start after all.

"I hear people." Taehyung said after a while, the two of you having had been walking in comfortable silence.

You could hear the excited chatter of your village's people from not too far ahead. And as the two of you walked out onto the pavement of the town you once called home, you couldn't help but smile.

"They're preparing for the summer festival!" You told Taehyung excitedly, eyes running over the busying bodies.

Women and men alike all brushed past one another, arms carrying brightly colors fabrics and other miscellaneous decorations. Children marched behind their parents happily, hands swinging at their sides in time to whatever song laid in their heads.

Taehyung said nothing, eyes wide as he took in the busy market and its people, trailing behind you as you walked.

You were headed toward your family’s old pharmacy. Back when both your family worked there, it served as both a clinic and pharmacy; your mother mainly in charge of pharmacy while your father also worked part-time treating injuries. When your mother passed away, your father reached out your family friend, Dhruv, to help out, along with putting you to work. With both you and your father now working at the castle, the pharmacy had fallen ownership to Dhruv and his family.

“It isn’t that much longer until we reach–”

You turned to speak to Taehyung, only to realize he wasn’t beside you.

You halted your steps, turning around in alarm, lifting up onto your toes to search for the prince’s dark locks.

Your eyes flickered back in forth in panic before they locked onto Taehyung’s concerned ones, standing a few feet back. You opened your mouth to call his name out in relief, but stopped yourself, realizing that even if no one knew what the prince looked like, screaming out his name in the middle of a busy market still probably wasn’t the smartest of ideas.

“Thought I lost you there for a second.” You sighed once Taehyung was in earshot.

“Sorry! I got distracted by everything that’s going on.” He apologized with a lopsided grin as he finally reached you.

You rolled your eyes, a small smirk on your lips, “Gosh, you’re like an excited little kid. You’d better shape up or I’ll make you hold my hand.”

At your words, Taehyung’s eyes widened in surprise, “Hold your hand?”

Immediately, you realized how what you had just said could be misconstrued. You let out a nervous laugh, arms waving in front of you dismissively.

"N-Not in a romantic sense, of course! I just meant so you wouldn't keep falling behind. It’s what mothers do with children that wander! I– Sorry, that was a really stupid joke, just pretend like I didn't say anything–"

Your rambling was cut off by the feeling of Taehyung's large hand intertwining with yours, leaving you speechless.

“I don’t mind if you don’t." He grinned lopsidedly, squeezing his warm hand around yours.

A small noise of agreement left your throat as you turned away from the prince's twinkling eyes. Your face burned and your heart raced. He had taken it so easily, it threw you entirely off guard, and just to occupy your muddled mind, you began to point out the different shops and sellers of the market. Taehyung listened and responded attentively, for which you were grateful. Anything to keep his mind off how clammy your hand was with his holding it.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

“Dhruv!” You exclaimed excitedly as you stepped into the pharmacy, hand slipping from Taehyung’s.

The familiar man perked up at the sound of your voice, eyes widening in surprise as he took you in.

“Hey, look who came back!” Dhruv mused to himself, slipping out from behind the counter to wrap you up in a hug.

For the two years you lived in the village without your father, Dhruv had served as a father figure to you, helping you adjust to life on your own, not to mention helping you with boy troubles when your father couldn’t.

Taehyung watched in curiosity, leaning back against a wall by the pharmacy front door.

“You back for good?” Dhruv asked as the two of you pulled apart, causing you to laugh.

“Not quite. I came back to buy some seeds.”

The man and you continued to talk as he made his way back behind the counter, taking your order as he asked you questions about your new castle life.

“And who is Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome that you came in with?” Dhruv asked you, eyes flickering behind you. You looked over your shoulder to see Taehyung looking slightly out of place as if he wasn’t sure what to do.

“Come over here.” You beckoned him through a laugh.

Taehyung flashed you a sheepish look, moving to walk over to you.

“Forgive me, I didn’t want to interrupt the reunion.” He apologized, offering a charming smile.

“Nonsense! I’m tired of Y/N’s old face anyway, new faces are much more exciting.” Dhruv chuckled causing you to let out an offended laugh.

“It’s nice to meet you. I’m… Tae.” The prince introduced after slight deliberation. Dhruv made no reaction towards the nickname, clearly not connecting the stranger Tae as the prince Taehyung.

“Dhruv.” The pharmacist greeted.

Dhruv turned towards you, “Well, I’d offer you some of your favorite tea like we used to have every morning but I’m afraid there’s been a bit of a water shortage throughout the village lately.”

At his words, both you and Taehyung perked up in interest.

“Water shortage? We’ve never had a water shortage before have we?” You asked, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Oh, it’s been a while since the last one. Been about a month now.”  The man sighed.

You could feel Taehyung physically tense at his words.

“Ah, no worries though. We just gotta get through the summer and things should go back to normal I think. Why don’t I run back and get you those seeds you asked for. On the house, of course.”

You let out a noise in surprise, “Oh please, Dhruv, no. Let me pay you–”

“Hush. You’re like family to me at this point. Besides I’m already moving so you can’t fight it.” The man mused, slipping into the back of the store with a wave.

“That man, I swear.” You shook your head with a huff.

“Twenty four.” Taehyung muttered to himself, causing you to look over at him.

“Pardon?”

Taehyung met your eyes, a small frown on his lips.

“If my family knew about this I would’ve heard about the water shortage by now. We have twenty-four fountains at the palace that spew water 24/7. I’ve been doing nothing while a whole village of my people has been going on thirsty. We don’t need that water, they do…” Taehyung gesturing towards where Dhruv had disappeared.

Taking in Taehyung’s bothered expression, you placed a hand onto his cheek as you offered him a sympathetic look in an effort to comfort him.

“That’s not your fault and you know it’s not. If the royal family didn’t know then there was no way you could have known.” You cooed softly.

Taehyung’s eyes met yours gently as he placed his hand over yours gratefully.

“Here we are!” Dhruv reemerged from the storage room, causing Taehyung and you to jump apart.

Taehyung’s face red and your voice shaking from being caught in such an intimate gesture, you accepted the seeds from Dhruv, thanking him profusely after he once again refused your money.

The three of you made small talk for a few minutes before Dhruv walked over towards another customer that had walked in. For a moment, Taehyung and you stood in front of the counter silently, as you looked down at what you were just given.

At the feeling of eyes aimed in his direction, Taehyung looked over to the pharmacy’s window only to see a man standing outside it, eyeing Y/N unabashedly.

"Y/N," Taehyung began lowly, causing you to look up at him, "there is a man staring at you from outside as if he's seen a ghost."

You turn towards the window in confusion, only to see the familiar face of your former lover.

"Oh shit." You breathed, looking away quickly.

"Who is he?" Taehyung pondered.

"My ex-boyfriend."

The chime of the door opening caused you to curse as it meant he had entered to greet you.

“Y/N!” The familiar voice called out, causing you to look up and greet the young man with a sheepish smile.

“Jungkook! How are you?” You greeted back, walking over to him.

Taehyung stayed leaning against the counter, eyeing the man called Jungkook skeptically, even more so when he wrapped his arms around you.

“I haven’t seen you in forever. I heard you’re living at the castle now?” Jungkook said as he broke the embrace.

“I am.” You nodded politely.

“I had to find out through Dhruv, you know. I came over here one day and he said you left.”

You flinched at his words, knowing that he would bring that up, “Ah, well. It all happened so suddenly. I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to say goodbye.”

In all honesty, you had made it a point not to tell Jungkook goodbye. Although the break up was somewhat clean, it was quite apparent that Jungkook still harbored feelings for you as he never left you alone. You wanted to avoid the dramatic reaction from him to the news of you leaving to live at the castle.

“So you’re working for your father then? That’s fantastic.” He enthused.

“Oh, well, no.” You told him.

“Oh? What, did you not cut it out as a nurse?” Jungkook joked, causing you to frown slightly.

There wasn’t anything wrong with Jungkook really. You broke up with him simply because you realized you really didn’t harbor any romantic feelings towards him. His constant dismissal in your interest for herbology certainly did help with the breakup, however. He, like your father, always tried to encourage you into going into medicine, despite your constant reminders that you much rather study herbalism rather than anatomy.

“No, actually, I have no interest in becoming a nurse. I work as a court herbalist.” You corrected him politely albeit with a slight edge to your tone.

Having had sensed some tension between your and Jungkook’s interaction, Taehyung made his way over to you.

You jumped slightly as a hand intertwined itself with yours, but you relaxed as you realized it was just Taehyung.

“Hello. I don’t believe we’ve met.” Taehyung interjected boldly, causing Jungkook’s expression to harden slightly.

“No, I don’t believe we have.” Jungkook replied dryly, eyes flickering towards your intertwined hands momentarily.

“I’m Tae.”

“Jungkook.” The younger man nodded back. "Are you two–"

"Together? Yes." Taehyung cut Jungkook off, flashing him a smile that didn't meet his eyes.

"Oh," Jungkook responded, noticeably uncomfortable, "do you live at the palace, too?"

Taehyung nodded easily, "I do."

"Ah, so that's how you two met then. Are you an… herbalist as well?"

You turned to look at Taehyung, also curious as to what he might reply.

Taehyung held your eyes for a split second before turning back to Jungkook.

"I work under the prince actually." He lied smoothly.

"Damn. I couldn't imagine waiting on someone's beck and call. Much less some stuck-up prince."

"Oh yeah, it's awful. He's a real asshole." Taehyung mused, causing you to snort.

Taehyung and you shared a knowing look, finding humor in the entire situation.

Jungkook nodded as if he figured as much before offering Taehyung a tight-lipped smile.

"Well, I'm sure Y/N is trying to show you all around the village so I won't keep you both any longer." Jungkook cleared his throat. "It was good to see you again, Y/N."

"Likewise." You told him with a small smile.

Jungkook turned towards Taehyung and after an awkward beat of silence, offered him a polite nod before slipping out of the pharmacy.

Taehyung's eyes narrowed immediately, "I don't like him."

You let out a laugh.

"Jungkook is harmless. Kind of insufferable, but mainly harmless."

"Any chance you have some sort of natural laxative on you that'll make him shit himself for days that we can offer him before we head back?"

"Sorry to disappoint, but I don't make it a habit to carry poisons around with me." You rolled your eyes, a grin present.

"Shame." Taehyung teased, brushing his shoulder into yours jokingly.

Consequently, the prince’s eyes fall onto his hand, and his cheeks pinked as he realized he was still holding your hand. He let go immediately.

"Sorry." He apologized, clearing his throat awkwardly.

Holding your hand felt oddly natural and up until now, he had forgotten entirely that your hand was in his.

To his surprise, you bit down onto your lip, moving to take his hand into yours.

"Don't be. After all, we’re together, remember?” You teased, referring to how Taehyung had lied about you and him being a couple to ward off Jungkook. “I have a feeling we're going to have to use that cover more than once today."

Taehyung felt a weird feeling of elation run through him. He liked the idea that he could hold your hand freely, if only for today.

Instead of expressing that, however, he raised an eyebrow up dramatically.

"How many exes do you have?" He accused, jokingly.

You rolled your eyes.

"That’s not what I meant. Couples attract less attention, you know. Public displays of affection make people uncomfortable. You saw how Jungkook quickly left after he saw us holding hands." You told him.

"Hmm. I suppose you have a point." He offered, before throwing you a skeptical glare. "You still didn't answer my question."

You gave him a pointed look, despite the fact that the sides of your mouth tugged upwards.

"Come on." You sang, tugging your boyfriend for the day out the door.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

The sun had just begun to set on your small town; just as well as you and Taehyung had grown tired from your afternoon adventure. You had taken him everywhere you thought he might enjoy: the springs, the farmhouse, the local theatre, your old house. And as the two of you walked down the cobbled stone of the now significantly less crowded market, you reminisced on your day and planned your next journey.

“We could go to Tanbarun next!” Taehyung offered excitedly. “There’s an elderly lady who always offers me bread and milk whenever she sees me.”

“I’ve never been to Tanbarun.” You confessed, excited at the prospect of traveling out of your small village.

To your surprise, Taehyung grabbed your hand and spun you around, causing you to let out an elated giggle.

“They’ve got the best gardens, Y/N. I can’t wait for you to see them, you’ll drool all over yourself.” The prince teased, clearly in a playful mood.

You rolled your eyes at what he was suggesting.

“While the thought of new plants and flowers excite me, I will not be drooling.” You defended, as you walked past two men that were headed in the opposite direction of you and Taehyung.

“...royal guard.”

The words flew past your ears so fleetingly that you almost swore you had imagined it, but you turned towards the conversing men that had walked past you regardless.

“What’s wrong?” Taehyung’s voice rang out from behind you, confused as to why you had turned around.

“I think they said something about seeing a royal guard?” You told him, eyeing the backs of the men as they walked.

“What?” Taehyung’s turned back at the direction the men had come from.

“Shit.”

You didn’t even have the chance to turn around to see what the prince was referring to when his hand found yours and he began to tug you forward, back down the way you had just come from.

“Woah– What’s happened?” You exclaimed, causing Taehyung to sent you a panicked ‘We have to go.’

You struggled to keep up with his pace and didn’t even register the sound of horse feet trailing somewhere behind you.

Glancing over your shoulder, you let out at a gasp at the sight of a royal guard perched upon a white horse, the royal family’s crest printed on the side of the horse rug. The horse trotted forward as the guard’s eyes rolled over the market, clearly haven’t seen Taehyung yet.

The guards were no doubt sent out for him by now, his absence at the meeting serving as proof of his disappearance.

You turned back around, heart pounding. You didn’t want Taehyung to get in trouble; you shouldn’t have agreed to sneak out with him in the first place, the least you could do is help him get back home unnoticed.

“There!” You pointed towards the small alleyway just up ahead to the right of you. If you remembered correctly, there was a dumpster tucked away that you both could hide behind. It wasn’t an ideal situation but it was the only one you could come up with given your circumstances.

You pull Taehyung into the alleyway by the hand and nearly curse again once you saw that the small alleyway was not only a dead end but was empty of anything you could possibly hide behind.

Heart in your throat, you poked your head out to view the main road.

“Dammit, dammit, dammit.” You chanted at the sight of the royal guard only a couple feet away.

You bit down onto your lip.

It was pointless; the guard was going to peer into the alleyway and see Taehyung and you standing here helplessly.

“Y/N, it’s okay. This is my problem, not yours. I’ll tell them I made you go with me.” The prince told you, eyebrows furrowed.

If Taehyung was trying to comfort you, it was pointless as the sound of a horse just seconds away from approaching had all your attention.

Suddenly, an idea entered your mind and before you could think to second guess it, you yanked Taehyung’s hood over his head and pulled him into you, your lips finding his.

Taehyung froze in place, a small noise of surprise erupting from the back of his throat.

You pressed your eyes shut, focusing on what you could hear. At the sound of the guard beside you, you wrapped an arm around his neck, hoping to imitate a couple intertwined in an intimate embrace.

Taehyung placed a hand on your waist, still completely dumbfounded, and at the sound of the guard riding past the two of you, you finally pull away.

Your eyes meet Taehyung’s immediately. They mirrored yours; wide and in disbelief, as if neither of you could believe what you had just done.

“I…I just remembered how public displays of affection make people uncomfortable. Um, my thought process was that if he saw us kissing and couldn’t see who you were then he’d just look away and keep going.” You rambled, voice shaking slightly as what you had done finally hit you. “S-Sorry.”

Taehyung just nodded at you silently, muttering a small thank you as his entire face turned bright red.

The journey back to the castle was a painful one, both unable to take your mind off the unexpected kiss. Awkward attempts of small talk plagued the ride back and you wanted to bury yourself into the ground.

When you finally arrived back at the castle and exchanged your uncomfortable goodbyes, you nearly ran towards your room, burying your face into your pillow as you replayed the moment over and over, crippling embarrassment overtaking you.

And when nighttime finally rolled around and Taehyung requested tea, you sent a maid over in your place, choosing to avoid the very face that was burned etched permanently into your mind.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

A week had passed since you last spoke to the prince. You had managed to avoid him for the most part, still unable to face him after what you had pulled back in the village. You threw yourself into work, the distraction serving as solace for your flustered heart.

It wasn’t until after your kiss did you realize you held feelings for Taehyung. Speaking to him, holding his hand, everything felt natural when you were with him. He made you feel good about yourself and you wanted so deeply for him to feel the same way about himself. You believed in him blindly and you couldn’t even focus on how foolish you were to fall for a prince with the memory of his lips against yours still haunting you.

You let out a frustrated sigh, your footsteps echoing across the corridor as you walked across it.

You were in a terrible mood; word of your excursion with the prince had somehow made it way across the castle, and you had once again overheard those nasty Countesses speaking about you.

“Did you hear what she’s done now?”

“She took Prince Taehyung back to her village on some secret rendezvous.”

“Not just the royal tea girl is she? Now she’s become the prince’s royal bed warmer.”

Their condescending tones lingered on your mind and you grew angrier as time went by. You had walked away before you heard anymore, but the damage was done. You had taken Taehyung out to the village so that he could learn about one of the places in his kingdom so that he could help it. Not that the Countesses would care about that. It didn’t matter what you did, the people of this castle would always look down on you.

A hand wrapping around your wrist pulled you from your thoughts, and you turned around to meet Taehyung’s worried eyes.

He had been on his way to the royal infirmary to speak to your father when he saw you walking. He had called your name multiple times, but the distracted look on your face told him you hadn’t even registered his calls.

He knew you had been avoiding him, no doubt in response to feeling embarrassment over what happened in that alleyway. But a week had passed and he couldn’t go another day without speaking to you. If he had done something to upset you, then he wanted to fix it.

“What?” You snapped, too caught up in your anger to watch your tone.

“Woah… I just wanted to say hello. We haven’t spoken in a week…” Taehyung defended, raising his arms up as if to show he meant no harm. “Is something wrong?”

You let out a breath. You didn’t want to talk to Taehyung if you were being honest. You were too annoyed by what the countesses had said to think about your shared kiss, but it was still frustrating to see the face of the man you liked, knowing he didn’t like you back.

“Nothing.” You huffed, “Just some snarky comment made by the Countesses. Again.”

“What did they say?”

You stared at him for a moment, contemplating whether or not to tell him.

You let out a scoff as you replayed their conversation in your head.

“They assumed I was… They called me your royal bed warmer.” You said with a deep frown, your anger bubbling within you with every word you spoke.

Taehyung’s eyes widened in surprise, “The royal what?”

“Apparently you and I going out to see your kingdom constitutes into me whoring it out for you.” You huffed.

“For nobility, they sure aren't ladylike.” Taehyung joked, hoping to make you laugh. It proved pointless, however, as your sour mood didn't ease up.

“They're so contradictory. They always stress that I’m the royal tea girl, that I'm just some commoner. If that's the case then what business does a prince have sleeping with me?” You exclaimed with a flail of your arms.

“Y/N.” The prince tried.

“I get that they’re in the court but what do they gain from kicking me down? I’m already below them in rank, which is so important to them as it's all they talk about. Bunch of royal bitches!”

“Y/N, relax.” Taehyung laughed, causing you to scowl.

“I am relaxed!” You snapped, crossing your arms over your chest.

Taehyung took a step towards you, eyes fixated on the unrelenting pout you wore.

“Why do you care what they think anyway?” He inquired, his hands pulling at your crossed arms.

Your arms fell to your sides and your eyes widened as Taehyung’s large hands ran down the lengths of your arms before intertwining his hands with yours.

“I-I don’t.” You countered, voice high as his sudden gesture caught you off guard. Your eyes flickered to focus on the wall behind Taehyung, away from the prince’s unwavering stare.

“Really? Kind of sounds like you do.” He teased and you could hear the smirk he wore just by his tone. Your eyes snapped back to meet his.

“Why do you care if I care? You’re meant to be on my side.” You pouted despite knowing how childish you sounded.

Taehyung raised his eyebrows in amusement, dragging a thumb over the top of one of the hands he held.

“Am I?”

“Y-Yes. It’s what friends do.” Your voice felt weak. Having Taehyung this close to you, touching you as if it was something as casual as breathing was laboring your own.

And as if your heart wasn’t struggling enough to pump oxygen throughout your body, it nearly stopped all together the moment Taehyung leaned into you.

Wait... was he going to kiss you?!

A single thump of your heart was the last thing you heard before you pressed your eyes shut, your body shrinking slightly.

“I thought you were just my bed warmer.” Taehyung’s warm voice purred into your ear, causing your eyes to fling open in surprise.

You pulled your hands back from Taehyung’s grip, pressing them against the laughing prince’s chest and you pushed him away from you.

You let out a small noise of disdain, hands clutched against your chest. Your heart ran a mile a minute, and you couldn’t come up with a reply if you wanted to.

“I’m sorry.” Taehyung laughed, clearly amused at your reaction.

You turned your burning face away from the giggling prince, hardly hearing his boisterous laughs through the sound of your heart pounding in your ears.

You thought he was going to kiss you. Of course, he wasn’t going to kiss you. Why would he want to kiss you?

Embarrassment sunk into you as you realized how foolish you were to think that Taehyung might like you like that.

You turned on your heel, quickly walking away from the dark-haired prince.

“Y/N? Woah, I’m sorry. I was just teasing.” You heard Taehyung say, accompanied quickly by footsteps behind you.

“It wasn’t funny.” You deadpanned, continuing forwards, tears forming in your eyes. You heard Taehyung freeze, his footsteps silencing as he stood in place silently, watching you walk away.

As embarrassed as you were, it was the fact that you had wanted Taehyung to kiss you that hurt. It was foolish– you were foolish. Falling for a prince when you were no more than a servant was so incredibly stupid. You didn’t know how you had let it happen, but you knew that you knew better.

You made your way to your room, cheeks wet from your tears. You swiped them away angrily. ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

"Father, do you have any band-aids on you before I go bother the nurses?" You started, slipping into your father's office.

You took a seat on his desk, a habit of yours he didn't appreciate very much.

Your father let out a sigh, looking up from the newspaper he had been reading before you barged into his office.

"White medicine cabinet, third drawer." He told you from his seat, eyeing the area of his desk you were perched upon as if to tell you to get up.

"Thank you!" You sang, hopping down onto your feet.

You were in a great mood today. Your last exchange with Taehyung was two days ago and had left you feeling sad and trapped within the palace, where you could run into him at any moment.

So this morning, you took it upon yourself to travel back into the village, this time to shop and spend time with the people there you cared about. Your mood was instantly lifted, the sun was out and warmed your skin deliciously, and it had really put things into perspective for you.

Everything you were upset about, the kiss, the Countesses, Taehyung, none of that couldn't be overlooked. The kiss would eventually become something you'd look back on and laugh at. The Countesses didn't take away from the fact that you were still at the royal castle studying under brilliant herbalists and you were working in a field you loved.

And as for the heart-wrenching feelings towards the prince that you carried... well, you could at least be grateful for the relationship you had with him, even if it was solely platonic.

Well, being that the two of you were even still friends that is...

Pulling the drawer open, you pulled out a band-aid. As pathetic as it sounded, you had accidentally given yourself a stupidly deep paper cut. Thankfully, you had some anti-bacterial cream on you when it happened, but seeing as you were going to need to use your hands the remainder of the day, you wanted to cover the wound.

As you wrapped it around your finger, you couldn't help but notice that the one medical bed your father's office held was hidden by the privacy curtains that hung around it.

You frowned.

"Why are the curtains drawn together?" You inquired.

As far as you know, the curtains were only used whenever someone was using the bed and being examined. But seeing as your father was sat at his desk reading a newspaper, you were fairly certain that wasn't the case.

"Oh... No reason." Your father told you, his tone entirely unconvincing.

You hummed, holding your father's eyes challengingly.

"Leave it." He warned as if reading your mind.

"Too late, my curiosity has been piqued." You shrugged moving toward the curtain.

"Y/N–"

A pair of panicked eyes met yours as you pulled back the white material of the curtain.

"Tae?" You said out loud, your head tilting in confusion.

"Doc," Taehyung whined, head turning towards your father, "what happened to not letting anyone know I was here?"

The doctor merely shrugged, "Not my fault I have the world's most inquisitive daughter."

"This is a good thing. Y/N told me the two of you are friends, she can keep you company and keep watch as I go and get some dinner." He continued, standing up from his chair.

At your father's words, you cringed slightly. You didn't need Taehyung knowing you spoke about him to your father.

You could feel Taehyung staring at you, and you made it a point not to look at him.

"You don't mind, do you?" Your father asked, causing you to open your mouth to speak, only to shut it again.

Ideally, no you didn't want to be left alone with Taehyung, but you supposed it was about time to make amends with him.

"Of course not."

Your father gave you a grateful nod, "I leave him in your capable hands then."

And with that, Taehyung and you were left alone. Silence ran over you both for few moments before you cleared your throat.

"Why are you hiding in my father's office?" You began, hoping to strike up a conversation.

Taehyung flashed you a guilty look, "There are some people here that my father wants me to meet so I begged your father to let me hide here instead."

"I thought you weren't going to avoid your prince duties?" You teased lightly.

He scrunched up his nose at you.

"More like avoiding my father's poor attempts of matchmaking." Taehyung huffed, causing your heart to pang slightly. You smiled despite it.

“You look nice– Your hair, I mean.” He clarified quickly, in case it made you uncomfortable. Your hair was pulled back into braids and he could see the pretty flowers that had been intertwined into them. You looked beautiful. Your skin looked radiant from a day out in the sun and your lips wore some kind of pink tint he hadn’t seen you wear before.

You offered him a small smile.

“Oh. Thank you. Some girls in the village did it for me.” You explained, rubbing your thumb

Taehyung gave an impressed nod.

“I heard what you did. Getting the king to agree to cut off the water that fed the castle ground fountains and redirecting it to the village, I mean. The villagers told me and they're all very grateful to you.” You continued, biting down onto your lip. Taehyung’s eyes fell to your mouth for just a moment before he looked back up to flash you a smile.

“I would’ve never been able to help them if it weren’t for you.” He told you earnestly and you couldn’t help but return his smile back at him.

Suddenly his smile dropped, a serious expression coming over him.

“I miss you.” He spoke through a blush, catching you off guard.

“Tae–” You began.

“I miss talking to you and spending time with you. I miss you getting all flustered when I tease you and I miss being able to make you laugh. I miss the way you have to take a few moments to recover every time you ride Yeontan because you don’t handle heights well. I miss seeing you covered in dirt almost every time I see you. I miss having you by my side.” Taehyung took a shaky breath, wiping his sweaty palms onto his pants. “Also... I suck at making tea.”

You knew he was being sincere and candid, but his last words took you by surprise and before you knew it you were laughing. Taehyung stared at you cautiously, unsure of what to make of your response.

“I’m... sorry.” You apologized through laughter, feeling bad for laughing at him but god, he was so endearing.

“I really put my feelings out there, you know. You laughing at me is incredibly ego damaging.” Taehyung huffed before a chuckle of his own broke through his lips.

And for a lovely moment, the two of you stood together laughing, the happy atmosphere almost tangible.

“I missed you too.” You told him shyly causing Taehyung’s heart to skip a beat.

Taehyung grinned, “Any chance you know of a ‘Thank god we're friends again' tea that you’d be willing to share with me tonight?”

You stared at the prince for a moment. The way he smiled up at you from his seat took your breath away still, just like it always did. His smile felt like the summer and it warmed you from head to toe.

You let yourself bask in it for a few seconds longer before grinning mischievously at him.

“It just so happens I do.”

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

"Of all the tea's you've made me, this has to be my favorite." Taehyung told you, taking another sip from his cup before grimacing slightly.

You laughed at his gesture, contrasting with his words. You felt slightly tipsy, a consequence of the alcohol you had mixed in with the chamomile tea.

"I'm serious!" He defended causing you to roll your eyes.

"Mixing the alcohol with tea was kind of a spur of the moment decision. Just say you hate it like I do."

“Hey, I happen to like gin. It tastes like Christmas trees.” Taehyung grinned. You raised an eyebrow, laughing softly.

“Have you eaten a Christmas tree before?” You inquired, grabbing both of your teacups off the bed and placing it onto the tea tray you had placed on Taehyung’s nightstand. You weren't going to force him to drink any more of the atrocious concoction, you decide as you grab the bottle of gin you had brought with you. You handed him the bottle.

“No.” He shrugged, taking a swig of gin. He handed you back the bottle eagerly, bringing a hand to wipe at his mouth.

You took your own sip, grimacing slightly as the alcohol made it’s way down your throat.

The familiar feeling of Taehyung's stare burning against your skin washed over you.

"You're doing that thing again."

"What thing?" He blinked at you.

"The thing where you stare at me wordlessly." You reminded him.

Taehyung shrugged, "I like looking at you. Looking at you is like looking at everything that is good and right in the world."

"Wha– Are you drunk?" You laughed, taken aback at his words.

"Getting there." He confessed through a cheesy smile.

It was strange. How on paper an irresponsible prince and a headstrong herbalist seemed like an odd match, but sat on Taehyung's bed, exchanging gin induced laughter, it all seemed to make perfect sense to you.

“Mm,” Taehyung said suddenly, a hand resting on his cheek.

“Everything okay?” You asked, blinking curiously.

“I'm warm.” He said.

You frowned, “Bad warm?”

"No. Drunk warm."

"Oh, yes! Gin will make you warm.” You nodded. “Tea, too!”

You had reached the point where conversations hardly held anything of substance, not that either minded.

“Are you warm?” Taehyung inquired out loud, almost as if to himself.

Before you could think to respond, one of his hands found your face, his palm cupping your cheek.

“You feel hot, Y/N.” Taehyung exclaimed with wide eyes.

Your heart skipped a beat, as your feelings for Taehyung suddenly hit you once again. Your eyes fell to the bed you both sat on, his large hand caressing your cheek not helping you out temperature wise.

“You were warm that day, too.” Taehyung hummed, causing you to look up at him in confusion.

“Huh?” You responded intelligently, unable to think past the feeling of his thumb stroking your cheek.

“The day you kissed me. You were warm that day too.”

All words left your throat. Your heart was beating so loudly that you feared Taehyung might be able to hear it if he listened closely enough.

And to your surprise, Taehyung leaned into you, before pausing in front of your face, embarrassingly close. The hand that was once on your cheek fell down to your neck loosely as he moved.

“Tae?” You questioned. You weren't sure if it was the alcohol or Taehyung’s proximity but you felt dizzy and flushed.

No response came from the prince as his mouth found yours, the soft warm flesh of his lips stilling you.

You placed a hand against Taehyung's thigh, holding onto the limb to steady you.

"Sorry." He apologized as his mouth broke away from yours, only to kiss you again.

A small noise left the back of your throat in response, reeling in the feeling. But before you could think to deepen the kiss, Taehyung pulled away.

“I miss you. But I don't miss being just friends. Fuck, it isn’t enough anymore.” He breathed. Leaning over, he pressed an opened mouth kiss onto your neck.

You let out a gasp, hands reaching out to grip onto the sides of his shirt.

His mouth was gentle, showering your exposed flesh with adoring kisses.

There was so much you wanted to say, yet you struggled to formulate a single word as he pressed his hot tongue against your neck.

Taehyung could hear your pounding heart against his mouth and the small whine you let out only spurred him on more.

“Hot.” Was all you could muster up as a response. Taehyung pulled away from your neck in confusion.

“Y-Your tongue, I mean. It’s hot.” You muttered embarrassedly, not meaning to cause Taehyung to stop.

“Bad hot?” Taehyung said with a tilt of his head, mimicking the question you had asked him just a few minutes ago.

You shook your head ‘no’ rapidly, eager to fix the mistake you had made. Your reservations lowered by the alcohol in your system and with the memory of Taehyung’s tongue spurring you on, you pressed your mouth to the prince’s.

Taehyung was quick to push you back onto the length of his bed, situating himself in between your legs.

His tongue found yours finally and you almost moaned at the feeling. It moved against yours sinfully and you knew you were ruined, wrapping your legs around his hips, inviting him to roll them into you.

“Wait, wait,” Taehyung said through a heavy breath, having had broken the kiss. You frowned at his words, choosing instead to run your fingers through his dark hair that you liked so much and bring his mouth back onto yours.

Taehyung let out a growl, hand finding your jaw as he gave in to your desires and kissed you the way you wanted him to. His teeth had found purchase onto your swollen bottom lip when he pulled away once more.

You let out a whine. You didn't mean to be this needy but you couldn't help it now that the two of you had gotten this far. You lifted your head to kiss him once again, but this time Taehyung lifted entirely off you, sitting back on his heels, your legs on either side of him.

“No, baby, this isn’t how I want to have you. I don’t want to fuck you in some drunken spur of the moment thing.” He shook his head as if to clear it.

You couldn’t help but pout at his words.

“Don’t look at me like that.” He sighed.

“Like what?” You sulked.

“Like I’m some sort of monster for denying you sex.”

You tut your tongue, “‘It’s ‘cause you are.”

And then Taehyung leaned over and kissed you, not because he intended to fuck you, but because you were so damn cute that he would lose his damn mind if he didn’t.

You took advantage of his moment of weakness, wrapping an arm around him to pull him into you so you could deepen the kiss.

Taehyung let out a dark chuckle at your feeble attempts to seduce him. He broke the kiss, his hand coming up to fiddle with the button of your blouse.

"Hmm,” he hummed lowly, “you’re desperate for my cock, aren’t you?”

It was as if some sort of switch had been flipped, the usually light-hearted prince's aura suddenly grown dominant and commanding.

You let out a small groan at his words, taken aback by how much your body had reacted to his words.

Taehyung didn’t miss your reaction, however, his eyes darkening as they peered down at you through his dark bangs.

“Take your shirt off.” He demanded, his tone authoritative.

You complied quickly, your underwear dampening embarrassingly at his shift in mood.

At the sight of your pretty white bra, Taehyung visibly shifted, his cock growing increasingly uncomfortable tucked away in his clothes.

“So fucking beautiful.” He sighed, voice low and smooth, fingertips trailing down the outer side of one of your thighs.

“Please touch me.” You whimpered, causing Taehyung’s eyes to snap back onto your face, a smirk pulling at his lips.

“Who knew my pretty little girl was such a pretty little slut?”

“Tae…” You protested, unable to meet his eyes for any longer.

“I know, baby. I know.” He cooed, as his leaned over and pulled your bra up over your breasts.

A soft noise slipped through your lips as his wrapped his around your soft bud, his hot tongue taking its time to torture it. His other hand found your other breast, thumb rolling over the nipple in a pattern at mimicked his tongue.

Unable to hold back for any longer, you rolled your hips up to his, and to your utter relief, he met your motions, his hard cock pressing against your drenched center deliciously.

“Oh, fuck.” You purred as he rutted himself against your panty clad clit, causing you to grip onto his back, trying desperately not to dig your nails into him.

Your nipple was released with a soft ‘pop’ and before you could register what had happened, Taehyung ran his hot tongue along the side of your neck.

“Wanna fuck you so bad. Fuck, I bet you feel amazing.”

“P-Please.” You begged, a low whine emerging from the base of your throat, your hips still meeting every rut of Taehyung’s desperately. It was bliss but it was momentary and all you could think about was what it would feel like to have his hot, thick cock sinking into you and rocking into you with the same ardor he held now.

Taehyung took the skin of your neck between his teeth, letting out a noise of disapproval.

“Oh, you’re not getting my cock, baby. No matter how much you need and beg for it.”

Your eyes widened. He wasn’t going to fuck you?

God, you could burst into tears right now. He had you so wound up and you couldn't even fathom not getting the release you so desperately needed.

“Spread your legs for me.” Taehyung said, pressing a final kiss against the base your neck.

Face warm, you complied, pulling your legs apart.

You could feel the fabric that was slick with your arousal move against your most intimate area slightly as you moved, and you bit down onto your bottom lip from letting out an embarrassing noise.

Taehyung was quick to move, running two fingers down the length of your inner thigh.

You flinched as he ran his fingers across the wet fabric of your panties, pressing into the fabric in a way that had you bucking your hips up.

"Fuck, no teasing." You cried, pressing your eyes shut as his thumb found your aching clit.

His mouth had once again found your breast as if he wasn't able to get enough of you.

And when he finally slipped his hand into your panties, you couldn't stop the whimper that rolled off your tongue.

His long digits toyed with your wet center, his middle finger teasing your entrance.

"You're fucking soaked. You need my fingers fucking into you? Don’t you?"

He was cruel. Even if he wasn't going fuck you like you wanted, he wanted to hear you beg for him. He liked the idea that you were dependent on him, that he was the only one who could give you what you wanted.

"Yes, god, yes I need your fingers!" You cried out, unable to register your embarrassment thanks to the feeling of Taehyung's long finger sinking into you.

Your hips moved on their own according, meeting Taehyung's motions messily.

You had assumed Taehyung was well versed when it came to affairs of the sexual kind. He was constantly escaping into the arms of his kingdom, there had to be more than a couple of instances where those arms became more than just figurative ones. So for him to be seen in his element during this kind of activity didn’t surprise you.

But this was ridiculous; he read your body like a damn book, rolling his fingers deep and hard into you only to pull back when you grew too close to your release.

High pitched whines and profanities left your mouth and you could feel your sanity slipping away as Taehyung edged you mercilessly.

Every time you opened your mouth to protest, he silenced you with his own mouth, kissing you hotly and nulling your thoughts.

His thumb rolled over your clit, the sensation nearly pushing you to the edge, but once again, he pulled away just before you could cum.

"Tae, please. No more. I can't– I need to cum." You sobbed, thighs and voice trembling.

Taehyung pressed a kiss down on your chest, enjoying the obscene sounds that came from where he was finger fucking you.

His eyes met you teary ones, "Hmm, I'll let you cum under one condition."

"God, anything!" You hissed, a loud moan escaping you.

"Go out with me." He smirked, adding in another finger.

You nearly asked Taehyung to repeat himself, unable to believe what he had just said. Was he joking?

At the feeling of Taehyung his fingers up inside you, your back arched, breath robbed from you momentarily.

"Are you, ah fuck, serious?" You frowned, hand wrapping around the wrist of that hand that was the source of your agony. You wanted to punch him. If agreeing to go out with him was what you need in order for him to let you cum than you would have agreed to it yesterday.

"Mhm." He mused.

"Tae–" Your response cut off by a moan. "Fuck... yes, I'll go out with you."

Taehyung's thumb once again found your poor abused clit, not holding back in pressure like he had been before. He spared you no warning, his fingers once again curling up into you in a way that had you choking on your own sob. Your mouth fell ajar slightly as your eyes shut, your release finally blinding you.

You came with Taehyung's name on your tongue, small sounds of sobs following as you legs quivering in the aftermath of your release.

Once your orgasm had let down, you let out a hollow breath, blinking harshly as your vision returned to you spottily.

You had never cum that hard and you were still trying to make sense of it all; you hardly registered the sound of Taehyung trying to comfort you.

"Are you okay? Was that okay?" Taehyung asked you again as he pressed multiple chaste kisses to your cheek.

You attempted to pull yourself up onto your elbows, still breathing hard.

"You're a little shit." You finally spoke, sending an exhausted glare Taehyung's way.

Taehyung let out a laugh as he kissed you lightly.

You sighed at the feeling, and despite the turmoil you had just gone through, you found yourself trying to deepen the kiss, thoroughly addicted to the taste of him.

"Hold on." He chuckled, breaking the kiss. "I was serious earlier. I don't want this to be a spur of the moment thing. Forgiving me for the old-fashioned, but I am a prince and I should be courting you before I do something like that again. And I want you to agree because you want to, not just because the situation calls for it but because you like me. Because I like you, Y/N. A lot."

You couldn't help but fawn over the suddenly blushing prince, a complete contrast to the Taehyung that held you from your orgasm just moments ago.

"I like you, too." You confessed shyly.

A brilliant smile fell across Taehyung's face at your words, causing your heart to soar.

"So, you'll go out with me?" He questioned excitedly.

You giggled, "Yes, I'll go out with you."

"Oh, thank god. Guess that means I can stop pretending to like tea now."

You let out a surprise scoff, "Excuse you!"

Taehyung flashed you a cheeky grin as he moved to push you back against the bed, muttering an apology as he kissed you once again, a smile on both your faces.

[desertcreated]

         It didn’t kill me but something inside me died that day.

[Story below the cut]

“Wait! Where are you going?”

“I need to collect seaweed for my mother and then I will be ready.” 

“Ah, Titan’s piss Niah. We are never going to make it to the caverns in time and I need to get my cards blessed. Seaweed? Can’t she do it--” 

“Khui.” The name was said sharply, perhaps too sharply for the dark haired girl’s eyes widened. It didn’t matter and there was only a pang of guilt before Niah continued, “My mother asks for something and I get it for her. That is the way because I love her. It should be that way for you and your mother, you know. I am as fast as the wind and the sand… so stop fretting.” Niah finished gathering her hair into a solid knot behind her neck and wrapped the oiled leather around her face. Once she was ready she bound towards the other girl and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Think while I am gone.

“Think about what?”

“How to think first and speak secondly.” The white haired girl laughed before her body blinked from view.  Not even the sand betrayed where the direction the girl was going.  She had not lied, she was fast and she allowed herself to bounce from shadow to shadow as she made her way to the ocean and further down the coast. The seaweed her mother was looking for would be gathered along the rocks, easily accessible and able to be stuffed into the sack without trouble.  She kept her shadows about her, the grayish world passing her by until what she sought was spotted. 

She perched upon a rock and then leaned forward to carefully collect the slimy green plant.

“Turn around, slowly ya mongrel.” Shock rippled through her. Her shadows still clung to her and she couldn’t imagine how she was seen. Just as she opened her mouth and brought her hands into the air, another voice answered.

“This slowly?” The second voice, male, laughed though it wasn’t one that tattled amusement, It was cold and angry. 

“Want me to shoot ya rightn’ yer back ya filthy beast? That it? The wanted posted didn’t say nothing about you being alive but I guess they might pay me more ifin they can kill ya themselves.” 

Riah’s fingers touched the rock that she knelt on and slowly she twisted to find the owners of the voices. She moved slowly, breath held until she was positioned and able to see the situation at hand. 

Two men. One half naked and standing hip deep in the ocean while the other stood on the sand, a gun pointed at the half naked man’s chest.  Riah knew neither of them but when the naked man’s left shoulder rolled it drew her attention to the markings there. He was hers. Her people. Regardless of who the other man was or the value of his life to someone else, the fact that he threatened one of hers made her stomach twist and bile burn her throat. He had to be stopped. 

“Now, come on outta that water… we are gonna take a walk ta Gagetzan.” The man continued and her stare jerked between the two. Her people deserved her loyalty and love, they had taken her family in and made sure they were safe. Most of the outside world thought they were bandits and worse -- if this man took the naked one to Gagetzan, his life was forfeit.  Slowly she pulled the short dagger from her boot and leaned forward. Her shadows reached and as soon as they found where the stranger’s copy inked onto the sand she moved, stepping from her safe place upon the rock to the leather clad stranger’s back.  He was taller than her mote of a frame and so slitting his throat was not an option but ramming her dagger into the underside of his jaw was. The move was quick and unseen until the last moment where her shadows dropped from her body at the same time the heel of her hand provided the force to drive the dagger home.

Then chaos.

The gun shot.

The man in the water sloshed forward his roar sounding more lion than man. 

She tried to peel her fingers from the dagger but they were frozen, glued by the horror of crimson and drool that stained her skin. The man was dead and his eyes widened on her as if she were death itself come to steal him away to the shadowlands before he fell into the water and almost took her with him.

“Let it go.” The voice was angry and close. His hands gripped her leathers and yanked her backwards so that her legs drug in the wet sand.  She didn’t feel her fingers let go of the hilt nor her head wrap loosen and fall but she felt the grip on her and turned into it, legs lifting to twist about the man’s thick middle and she tossed her arms around his neck. 

They both went still.

“Warlord…. “ Another voice, a woman stepped from the shadows to the man’s left and then stood in her utter confusion. The scene was a blend of common and unreal and there were no words.

Only sobs. The loud and ugly kind that promised the naked man his skin would feel snot within a few moments. He didn’t let her down though, instead he set himself onto the rock she had left and pressed his hand into the back of her head, his chin settling onto the top of her head. No words. Not to his burden anyway.

“You took your time.” He scolded, his voice did not warm in the slightest. 

“I was about to move when…” The woman waved her hand towards the youth that slobbered on his chest.  “The man?”

“Dead.”

“Know him?” She continued.

“Goblin hired.” His hand in her hair shifted and fingers curled into the straight moonlight colored locks. He pulled so that her face left his chest and he could look down at it.  She blinked up at him from a face covered in tears and snot. 

“Name?”

“I am going to throw up.” She replied and he immediately tilted her to the side so she could be miserable but still not leave his hold. 

“Name.” He repeated as she wretched. 

“Raeniah. Hhhttt.” 

“Your first kill?” He had no mercy, it seemed, fully expecting her to answer while she yacked.

“Y-hhhhhtttt.”  She waited for him to push her from him or relocate her so she could throw up in peace.  He didn’t. He kept one hand on her hair and the other on the back of her vest until she was done and spent.  Once done she set her cheek against his chest and slouched. 

“Do you know my name?” He asked after a long moment.

“No.” She sniffed softly, eyes squeezed shut so she didn’t have to look at the body that the ocean was slowly pulled into its embrace. 

“Why did you attack for me?”

“You are one of my people.”

“Oh?” 

“Y-your shoulder. It has the mark -  the two slashes that I’ve seen on the warriors.  I was just getting seaweed for my mother because she asked and I am supposed to meet my friend at the caverns so she can bless her cards and I was going to see if I could bless my dice so that I’d win and I had to come here first and I saw you and thought it was me and it wasn’t me it was you and I saw your X.” She rambled, pausing only to take a breath once.

“I see.” He voice didn’t sound so angry but he stood and brought her with him as if she were a toddler instead of a thirteen year old. “It is time to return to camp - Rance. My items.” 

“Yeah.” The woman responded, her voice simply puzzled. 

As they walked he spoke, allowing her to cling to him and keep some form of her childhood intact when by deeds alone, she had murdered her innocence as swiftly as she murdered the bounty hunter. She listened but didn’t really hear what he said more so the lull of his voice as he spoke about his own first kill. 

She wanted her mother.

[bellatrixobsessed1]

The Trail (Part 2)

Chapter Cryptid/Folklore Creature: Stick Indians.

This chapter is dedicated to my grandmother who is really interested in Native American lore and has been begging me to tell her 'a stick indian' story. I hope that I do justice to the Salish culture and their story.

Pacific silver fir and western white pine tower over them, creating what looked like an impenetrable wall of woodland. As if the forest isn’t dense enough already, black cottonwood and mountain hemlock fill the spaces between. It is a wonder to Zuko that they have managed to get here at all.

His mood had already been dreary before, with Zhao officially recruited and having rambled for hours, during their flight, about life on the Scottish highlands. Zuko stands before a large and crystal clear lake, littered with massive boulders and small stepping stones. Normally this may have lifted his spirits, but a light and billowing snowfall steals that away.  

He shivers, cursing his sister for renting a tent instead of booking a hotel. “I thought that you like to plan ahead.” He finally snaps.

Azula looks up from her work. “Zhao, prove your worth to this team and finish setting up camp.” And she turns to Zuko, “yes, this is part of the plan. Don’t you think that it will be easier to hunt down forest dwelling beasts if we are in the forest?” She shrugs. “Besides, I figured that we could save a little money this way.”

“I think that it’s easier to hunt when I’m not freezing my ass off.” He grumbled.

“When Ah was a lad…” Zhao starts and Zuko groans loudly, sorry that he had spoken at all.

“Try to relax a little.” Azula comments.

He only folds his arms over his chest, muttering, more to himself than her, about how she always has to have things her way. How they can never do what he wants, never mind that he had chosen the final say about their destination this time around.

Azula sighs, “come over here and look at this.”

For a spiteful moment, he thinks of ignoring her, but he comes to sit next to her on the log she has perched herself upon. “Ever hear of stick indians, Zuzu?”

“No?”

“Neither have I.” She replies. “According to uncle, there have been reports of them. Apparently, they’re becoming a bother tourists and locals around here…”

“And you want to look into it?” He asks.

“We’re here.” She replies. “I don’t see why we shouldn’t.”

“Because we’re here for the wendigo.”

“I think that we can handle both.” She insists.

“Ah shite!”

Azula flinches at the sound of the tent collapsing.

“You wanted him here.” Zuko remarks.

.oOo.

The snow continues to fall, it would almost be soothing if it weren’t so like the night their mother went missing. Azula rolls onto her side, thinking of Iroh’s notes. He doesn’t have much for her to work with aside from a basic rundown of what they are dealing with. They are supposedly hairy and not unlike the better known big-foot. They have a knack for trickery and leading people astray, if Iroh has his facts right. She rolls back onto her back and watches, from the nearest window as the snow falls around them. A gust of wind rocks the tent, but not jarringly enough for her to wake the other two. It is a wonder that Zuko sleeps at all. She supposes that he had spent all of his energy on pointless rage in the daylight hours.

She ought to be sleeping herself but for some reason or another, sleep doesn’t want to come to her.

Azula tries to analyze her own emotions; she doesn’t have angry or depressive thoughts to haunt her mind. She considers for a moment that she is afraid. Yet, that isn’t it either. Her heart doesn’t race, she doesn’t feel the need to look every which way.

Perhaps it has to do with the flight and a time change.

The wind whistles outside of the tent.

With no sign that her body wants to sleep, Azula gives in and grabs her camera, she doesn’t often take nighttime photography. As quietly as she can, she unzips the tent and slips from it. She makes sure to seal the flaps once more to keep Zuko from complaining about the cold.

She hears, again, the wind whistling against the tent. She wanders away from the sound and towards the lake. Under the moonlight it is ethereal. If not for the snow she know that its surface would be smooth and undisturbed. As things are, the snow puts a certain sparkle to the water. It is perfect, she lets the camera flash. Once and then twice more before she seeks out something else to capture.

She thinks, briefly, of climbing atop one of the large boulders and taking a photo from a new vantage point. She gets a rather vivid mental image of herself slipping on the slick snow and crushing her camera as she topples into the lake.

The whistle of the wind comes again, this time, a chill shivers down her spine. At first, she can’t place why. She tries to push the feeling aside, but the snow in her hair, the deeply quite woods, she remembers the feeling.

Remembers the look Ursa exchanged with Ozai.

She creeps away from the pond and towards her tent, the only thing keeping her at bay is the absence of an abysmal odor. They always have a scent. A truly wretched scent. But the absence of woodland chatter it wakes the most primitive of her senses.

She hears the whistle of the wind again.

This time it registers.

Her hair isn’t fluttering. She doesn’t feel the gust on her bare face.

With that realization she comes to decide that the sound itself is distorted. The next time she hears it, she can swear that it is as though the sound is being played in reverse.

Azula goes tense, it is near the tent.

And tenser still when the whistling sounds from behind her and then to the side of her. There are more of them now and they create a disorienting whir. She fights down the anxiety that they’ve managed to rouse.

She hustles back into the tent. As long as she doesn’t let them lure her out there she should be fine. Her dread doesn’t waver, not even slightly. “Zuko!” She hisses. He grumbles something sleepily gargled. “Zuko!” This time she offers him a sturdy kick.

She dodges a reflexive punch. “Christ, Azula! What?” He shouts, sending her nerves skyrocketing. She clamps a hand over his mouth as Zhao bolts up with a “wha’cha fussin’ aboot?”  She hushes him too.

She almost regrets having done so. She can hear, with more clarity, a scampering from outside. Zuko turns to her and mouths a soft, “what the hell.”

Azula simply points at Iroh’s notes.

“Ah’m gonna shoot ‘em.” Zhao proclaims.

“Take one shot and you’re fired.” Azula whispers harshly.

He opens his mouth for a voluminous protest. Azula throws a hand up, “one word and you’re going back to Scotland.” She threatens quietly. She has a hunch that they were going to have to wait this one out. She chances a peek out of the window, hoping to see the deep blue of approaching dawn. The sky is still inky and spotted with stars and flecks of snow.

She knows that the night will be long.

Any desire to ignore the outside chaos and sleep it off is sapped away at the sound of laughter. Its quality is uncanny, human but with an off-putting edge too it. Something that licks and plays with the most instinctual recesses of her mind.

“Ken Ah shoot it now?” Zhao asks, keeping his voice low.

Logic yearns for her to say yes, but the part of her that is off-put by the laughter speaks first, “you’ll only make it worse.”

She feels vulnerable, terribly so. More so than when she had been sinking in Loch Ness. At least then, she knew what and where her foe was. Zuko’s glower leaves her feeling worse. He had already been vexed by her choice to camp at all. She supposes that it is on her entirely if they tear through the tent and make off with one of them.

She hopes, for the sake of her conscience that they take her.

A stick hits their tent and Zuko jolts. She wants to day that she hadn’t flinched, but Zuko gripping her hand tells her that she did. She can’t remember the last time he had held her hand, but she thinks that it was when they were children.

Azula looks at her phone, it is only 3:14.

She swallows, suddenly four hours is dauntingly long.

Her eyes begin to droop at 4:00 and she fights to keep them open. Zhao snores softly, with his gun still in hand. Azula thinks that maybe he has it right. They can’t be lured out of their tents if they are asleep. Maybe she should just cave to her body’s demands. She can use the rest. Briefly she thinks of pulling out the novel she’d brought along and reading until sleep overtakes her. But she doesn’t want to attract attention with the light of her phone.

Instead she moves further from her brother and wraps herself up in her blankets, the uneasy flutters never leaving her belly. Zuko seems to follow in suit, but moves his sleeping bag closer to her. She wants to scold him for the loud shuffling noises, but there isn’t a point. The creatures already know that they are there.

Their eerie scuffling and chirping persists but the ruckus doesn’t come any closer.

It doesn’t make her feel any safer.

In fact, it only leaves her wondering why they aren’t attacking. Perhaps they are waiting for them to let their guard down. Perhaps they are toying with them. She digs through her bag for her iPod. She puts her headphones on, the noise will drive her insane if she doesn’t.

“Don’t pay them any mind, Azula.” The words play themselves back in her mind. “Some beings just like the attention.” She remembers smiling up at him and nodding as he tucked her in. She wishes that he were there. This chapter is dedicated to my grandmother who is really interested in Native American lore and has been begging me to tell her 'a stick indian' story. I hope that I do justice to the culture and their story.

[frostbitepandaaaaa]

You are a brilliant writer so I have to ask: How to you write subtlety and the complexity of it? How to show instead of tell? How do you give it depth and meaning? And how to build it organically? I read your GoT and Mad Max fics (especially with Max being such a quiet character) and was just amazed

hoo boy. where to start.

first, thank you so much. it’s really, really flattering to know that someone has read all my stuff, cross-fandoms. that’s just really neat and also very humbling, so i appreciate that. 

now onto the questions! i’m going to assume that the first two questions are essentially the same thing. this particular question is basically at the root of what is considered ‘good’ writing. we always see writing advice blogs/articles/books what have you expounding at length about how it is essential to ‘show’ and not ‘tell’. well, this is inherently tricky because what is an author? a story-teller.

what ‘showing’ vs. ‘telling’ essentially means (at least to most) is that you as an author are supposed to present your reader with as much information as you deem necessary in order for them to ‘properly’ interpret what the character is feeling or where the plot might be going. and, generally speaking, you want to provide them with as little information as you possibly can in order for them to come to that conclusion. 

i’m going to use examples from “symptom of time” since i’m working on it right now. more behind the cut as i’m a rambly ass.

now, this does not necessarily mean that you don’t tell your reader what to think. i do this all the damn time. 

ex:  

She looked up at him and his face was wretched, his fists clenched at his sides. The word had sounded like it had been torn away, ripped out of his mouth like a bitter weed.

i’m not outright saying ‘jon is having trouble keeping his composure. he is obviously anguished’ although that is the conclusion that i want the reader to come to and am hopefully successful in that endeavor. i am showing you, by describing the tone of jon’s voice, what his body is doing, what expression is like. engaging the senses. how do we humans relate to our world? through our senses. and when we do, we draw our conclusions based on these observations and react to it. and there is the kicker! you want your reader to constantly react to your work. “telling” them what to feel deadens the narrative and does not incite a reaction. 

an example of this same sentence rewritten to the dreaded “telling” may read something like this: 

She looked up at him and he was was obviously angry. He looked near to the end of his strength.

let me say this: the above sentence is not a bad sentence. sometimes sentences like this can add immediacy to your narrative when needed-- like in times of great stress or turmoil. but, if your entire prose is made up of sentences like this, things can get very dull. 

now these are observations from a POV character-- Dany cannot really know what Jon is feeling or doing in this moment, and so the reader can’t, because it’s not being told from Jon’s POV. when the POV character is processing internally is where “showing” and “telling” can really get tricky, and is arguably when this is the most important. 

ex:

“Breaker of chains,” Missandei of Naath had said within the gloomy glow of the throne room. He almost missed it, having grown restless and weary of her endless titles almost immediately.

And now he sat in the solar of his dreary rooms in an unfamiliar castle, running a thumb over the mark that he had not properly looked at in an age.

It had not faded, the lines standing out as pristine and sharp as glass. The collar stood open and gaping, a length of chain flowing from the end of it snapped in two as if struck with a hammer. Tiny pieces of it littered the lines of his skin like freckles.

i have given the reader all they need to know: the memory of one of Dany’s many titles, a description of the mark on his hand, the description of what he’s doing-- staring at a mark he had not looked at in years, running a thumb over it. i never tell the reader "hey Jon thinks that ‘breaker of chians’ means that his mark, which is a broken slave collar, refers to Dany’ in so many words. they already know, and they’re right there with Jon as he realizes it-- alone and anxious and barely able to believe such a thing.

“Jon could not begin to believe that ‘breaker of chains’ meant anything at all. That his mark translated to her lofty title.” is not a bad way to tell it, but it’s far less engaging. you’re not really with Jon. you aren’t coming to the same, insanely important conclusion that Jon is simultaneously like you are in the above example. in “symptom of time” the reader already knows that Jon and Dany are the owners of the marks on their skin. the point in the story, what makes it interesting, is how Jon and Dany find out what the readers already know. 

sometimes, though, just observations are not enough. sometimes, you need more gravity to the scene, you need more input from the characters. this is when it gets really, REALLY tricky. this is why introspection is reviled by many an author (including myself) and by a lot of readers. introspections can get rambly, boring and long because you can’t observe your POV character’s thoughts. you have to tell them. the key to make these introspections engaging and illustrative as possible is to both a) limit them as much as possible and b) find interesting ways to frame your character’s thoughts. 

Holding her on that windy slope of stone and moss had felt like slipping into some ancient forest-- a place of their own making, a place that could never be put back again. The map to it was seared into his very skin. He could never forget it. But it was a burden he had never asked to bear, a key he had never asked to hold.

‘slipping into some ancient forest-- a place of their own making’ is an interesting way to go about saying ‘had felt like they were the only two people left in the world.’ know why? not only is the latter phrase overused, but because an ‘ancient forest’ is descriptive. it indicates what kind of world Jon and Dany would make for themselves. it’s more personal, and it’s engaging because it cause the reader to imagine an ancient forest-- moss and owl hoots and dripping leaves and whatever else. 

“the map was seared into his very skin” is the mark on his hand, tethering him to Dany forever. it is engaging because the reader is now thinking of that mark, and what it now means that Jon and Dany have realized what we all knew.

“a burden he had never asked to bear, a key he had never asked to hold” is another way of saying “it was an unwanted weight on his shoulders” that, again, is illustrative. it gives life and personifies his own thoughts, his own emotions which causes the reader to react and imagine and engage.

this all to say that, at the end of the day, you want your writing to always be with the character and to constantly be engaging the reader. 

giving your writing depth and meaning is almost too personal for me to truly try to explain. but what it all boils down to is what question do you want your writing to answer?

this is so personal because it boils down to what your values are, what you deem important. in “symptom of time” i wanted to answer my own question: what would it be like to have a mark of fate upon your skin that essentially robs your of autonomy? and how does that affect the resulting relationship? is the mark just a symptom? or is it the cause? is it a mixture of the two? is that what love is in the first place?

that’s essentially what writing should be. an answer to a question. it doesn’t really need to be as ‘deep’ and esoteric as the questions i brought forth in “symptom”. when i wrote “wrath of a king” i wanted to answer the question of “what would Jon Snow do if someone tried to abort their baby?” in “easy” the questions was “what would happen if Max actually told Furiosa that he was in love with her like the normal man he used to be?” 

i am also a sucker-- just a total slut-- for imagery. and that is how i will ‘consciously’ try to infuse meaning and depth into my writing. i splatter “Ozymandias” with so much imagery i don’t know why no one has tried to intervene. the march back from Castle Black, Dany’s dream, Jon’s dream, the miracle pregnancy reveal surrounded by the dragons, the Godswood scene-- miracles themselves. i really don’t know how to construct good imagery other than you have to think of what is important to your characters, and the meaning behind certain gestures, symbols and objects in their lives. 

at the end of the day, answering these questions through knowing your characters well enough and writing a good story will infuse all the meaning and depth that you need without really having to think on it much.

building it organically? i also don’t really know how to answer this question. honestly, anon, most writers are just dumb fuckhead wandering around in the dark. it’s something that just kind of... happens... eventually. you just kind of... know how to do it. 

and the most frustrating thing: writing gets harder the better you get at it. the more you understand what good writing is, the harder it is. don’t ask me how this works, it just does and why wanyone would want to become a writer is beyond me (jk it’s literally the best thing in the world). 

so, in conclusion my poor, exhausted anon, just keep at it. just keep going. learn and read up sure, but just keep writing. think of this way: you can have all the best gear and all the physiologic knowledge of the mechanics of running, all the fancy stretches and techniques but until you actually start running, you’ll never get in shape. 

thank you so much for your questions and your kind words! i hope this helped even a little bit. :)

[verdigrisprowl]

Unicron Hunting: Resurrection

Megatron is brought back to life.

There’s angry shouting.

Smokescreen and Bumblebee escort Megatron to get repairs, hauling the corpse of the herald Soundwave with them. Prowl and the living Soundwave remain behind, with the reliquary.

Time to tend to their wounds—physical or psychological.

Bumblebee - Yesterday at 9:17 PM

And thus lay the empty shell of the slave of Unicron, a husk of a warlord now so much dead metal. The planet, once ravaged by the terrors of dark energon, was eerily still. It was as if Cybertron itself was trying to catch its breath after a thorough beating.

Only the sound of a ground bridge cycling to life broke the still.

Smokescreen - Yesterday at 9:27 PM

Smokescreen comes through as quickly as he can, though is slowed by a frame he is carrying along with him. Smokescreen is practically clinging to the frame, ready to protect the frame if need be.

Bumblebee - Yesterday at 9:28 PM

Bee's quick to follow. "Is he dead?! What happened?"

Soundwave - Yesterday at 9:41 PM

The bird twins hover over Megatron's body, trapping it in a cage of feelers so the only part of Megatron that's accessible to the smaller mechs is the portion of chest nearest his spark. Buzzsaw whirs quietly, his wings already activated to serve as an extra deterrent. Whatever they're going to do to had better be exactly what they'd said it would be, or else someone's losing vital pieces.

Ravage sits next to Soundwave, his audio dishes flattened back and fangs bared, ready to leap at and savage anyone who dares get too close. Soundwave himself is focused mostly on his dead alternate's grey husk, prepared to do the same if it defies expectations and moves so much as a finger.

The other three are stood near-ish to Prowl. Whichever twin is red today is hugging Soundwave's severed arm. The blue one keeps glancing over at Prowl, concerned by his posture and lack of speech. Zori just stands guard, much bigger than normal, pincers and stinger at the ready.

[[He is dead.]] Soundwave's mental voice sounds like he's forcing it to be still. Little wavers creep into it here and there. [[We forced Unicron into an ancient containment unit. All that he was - and did - is gone.]]

Prowl - Yesterday at 9:44 PM

Prowl lets go of his reliquary long enough to rap on it with his knuckles—THIS ancient containment unit—but otherwise doesn't reply, and doesn't acknowledge the new arrivals. His gaze is fixed somewhere near Megatron's husk, half expecting it to jump up and shove the birds in its mouth.

Bumblebee - Yesterday at 9:48 PM

"What'd it DO to him?!" Bee's immediately shaken to near tears at Megatron's physical state. It looks like Unicron ripped him apart down to the chassis and just slapped him back together again and used rust for glue. "We- I-" He turns to Smokescreen. "Do you think he'll be okay if we put his spark back in him when he looks like that?"

Soundwave - Yesterday at 9:53 PM

[[He doesn't know.]] And frankly, he was still furious enough with Megatron and his alternate (and by extension, himself) for making any of this possible that he didn't much care either. [[You do not have a choice. It will take too long to return him to normal. Corrosion will set in.]] A pause while his gaze briefly flicked away from his alternate and over to Megatron. [[More.]]

Bumblebee - Yesterday at 9:57 PM

"AAAGH!" That has him fumbling for the spark crystal, nearly dropping it twice in a blind panic, before jumping onto Megatron's chest as much as he can fit and moving plates around to fit the little sphere into its spark housing. It falls into place so plainly, like skiball almost, that Bee almost feels bad the moment slipped out of his fingers... literally. It should have been more important? Maybe? More... explosiony?

Megatron - Yesterday at 10:12 PM

The crystal is warmer than it has been, perhaps a little brighter. The scarred spark within flickers as it's slotted into place, fading a little as what minute energy it has spreads through the spark chamber, lighting biolights and reactivating components. The frame shudders before relaxing again, fans spinning lazily. The lights behind his optics glow faintly before they close, a groan escaping from deep in his chest.

He can't remember the last time he was so exhausted...

Prowl - Yesterday at 10:15 PM

At the first sign of motion in Megatron's corpse, Prowl scrambles to his feet and automatically gets into a fighting position, fists raised and knees bent, the heel of one foot pressed against the wall. He at least still has enough presence of mind not to go any farther than that.

Soundwave - Yesterday at 10:26 PM

Prowl isn't the only one to react. Ravage hisses, Soundwave flinches, Zori clacks a pincer in warning, and Laserbeak - poor, poor Laserbeak, who has experienced too many of her companions' deaths and had to be pinned down when Soundwave passed out because she wouldn't stop screaming in fear of her carrier going to join them - accidentally gives Megatron a small electric shock before she realizes it's him and not Unicron again.

Smokescreen - Yesterday at 10:28 PM

Smokescreen pauses, nodding, before shrugging, "I've got no idea- I hope so, though."

Smokescreen's soon setting Soundwave down, coming to Megatron's side as Bee puts the crystal in, trying to see if he's okay- "Bee, do you have any energon for him? Maybe that'll help him get back to normal! Megatron! Can you hear me? Are you okay? There's no Unicron bits still in you, right?"

Bumblebee - Yesterday at 10:29 PM

"YEAH I've got energon!" He pulls out one of his emergency snacks, just a little energon goodie. "Can you online your optics? Can you feel all your systems? What's the last thing you remember?"

Megatron - Yesterday at 10:43 PM

Loud. It's too loud, who in the Pit is is making so much noise? The shock barely registers, some sort of dull pain, but as his sensors recalibrate, it becomes obvious that something is on top of him. He starts to recognize voices, putting together sentences. Smokescreen, Bumblebee... Primus, why can't he move?

Slowly, his optics open, still duller than they should be, but a clear ice blue.

"Bumblebee..." His voice is hoarse, everything hurts. No, he's too tired to hurt. His optics seem to have trouble staying online. "Smokescreen..." And Laserbeak and... Buzzsaw. Isn't he dead? They all look too small, and he still can't move. "Why...? What's going on, have I... been offline?"

Bumblebee - Yesterday at 10:46 PM

He bawls. "You WERE! You pulled the Void card! It killed you and Unicron had your body and Soundwave was under his control and I was scared!"

He throws himself down on Megatron's chest to hug him and sob. It hurts and it's over, it's all finally over.

Smokescreen - Yesterday at 10:49 PM

"Megatron, you were in a crystal! And we went to this place, and Unicron took over your body, and- you're okay now, and-"

Smokescreen is squeezing Megatron's arm, trying to reassure him that he's okay, "Are you feeling okay? Do you need more to eat or anything? I have some stuff to talk about- but I'm sorry- I think after all the Unicron stuff, and some stress to his frame, Soundwave's... I'm sorry, Megatron. We're going to get you and his frame back to the med-bay, will that work out?"

Soundwave - Yesterday at 11:09 PM

The birds reluctantly let go of Megatron, finally convinced that he's not going to sprout more rust and spines and eat everyone and everything in the room, and fly over to Soundwave. Neither can dock right now, as part of their frames would hit the damaged shoulder and cause him pain, so they just settle on the ground nearby, blocking him in on three sides with Ravage's help.

He vents in disgust at all the questions. Listen to them, caring so much about one who threw himself to the Unmaker. They're lucky he's too tired to take advantage of their inattentiveness to drop the wretched corpse into a smelter.

Prowl - Yesterday at 11:13 PM

Prowl lowers his fists, just a little, but he can't quite pull himself out of his battle ready posture. When he looks at Megatron his HUD still highlights the million little places where Unicron made him wrong. Acid rises in his throat, lapping at the back of his tongue.

Megatron - Yesterday at 11:18 PM

"Unicron...?" So the worst outcome, that thing he had been avoiding all this time, despite everything, had come to pass. He had died, and the Chaosbringer had used him. Wait. He couldn't hear him anymore. No more whispers in the back of his mind, and the leaden feeling in his lines was from his lack. "You... defeated him?" He was free!

And Bee was crying, Smokescreen rambling something about Soundwave. He tries to lift his arm to drape it across Bee's back, only succeeding in bending his elbow just enough to rest his servo beside the minibot on his chest. His frame feels... wrong somehow, but he can't place why. Soundwave. It comes back to him suddenly, the meeting in the tunnels, the card, feeling himself removed.

Growling, he tilts his helm, finding Soundwave surrounded by his minis. Heavily damaged. Behind him, a white mech stands, looking terrified and ready to fight. This cuts the growl right away. He had done that, he knew it. Was that the taste in his mouth, the traitor's oil? Megatron turns away again. "I'm sorry for... causing so much concern."

Smokescreen - Yesterday at 11:25 PM

"I didn't, really- Sounds and that guy over there did. I'm just glad you're back to yourself. We don't even have to worry about Unicron anymore! We'll be able to get the allspark no problem! I can see about getting a repair crew for you. ... And probably a repair crew for this part of Cybertron, too." Smokescreen's finally taking the matrix off from his neck, hiding it in his subspace to hopefully never take out again.

Smokescreen takes a step away, already starting to make a few calls to get the medbay ready for a heavily damaged Megatron. He's making a point of calling near the deceased Soundwave's frame, in case anyone gets any ideas.

Prowl - Yesterday at 11:31 PM

"Con— Con-cern?!" The acid boils over his tongue.

He doesn't sound quite right, like a computer that's only barely been programmed to speak but is trying to skip straight to shouting. "You—nearly killed him." He points at Soundwave. "You almost—let HIM—" he kicks Unicron's reliquary, "—destroy Cybertron. Destroy it! You! By f-fragging around with CHAOS GOD blood! Do you want to apologize? Do you MEAN it? Apologize to Cybertron— Apologize to your people. For what you almost did—HAVE done—to THEIR planet. You—You made YOURSELF into the BIGGEST threat that YOUR people face—and—and—and you call yourself their leader. You dare."

Bumblebee - Yesterday at 11:33 PM

Bee holds himself over Megatron's spark chamber, comming his friend. :: Don't listen to them, that's just the shock talking. Let's get you and Soundwave home. ::

Soundwave - Yesterday at 11:41 PM

Soundwave refuses to look at Megatron. He isn't interested in seeing this so-called concern he's sure the mech has plastered on his warped, misshapen face for everyone to see . Hmph! As if a simple apology could erase years of stupidity and poor choices. As if one could nearly become the death of Cybertron and everyone on it and just - just excuse and absolve themselves with a single polite apology. He sees no reason to accept it, or to even pretend he will. If he's still being forced to come to grips with the enormity of the actions he took during the war, there's no way in this or any other reality he's going to allow Megatron off that lightly.

Prowl's sudden speech draws his attention instead. Part of him worries over the sound of Prowl's voice and whether or not this is the prelude to crumbling in public. Part of him wants to find the loudest clip of applause he has and play it back. A third wants to kiss him for daring to read Megatron - Megatron! - the riot act, and still another screams at him to take Prowl and run while they can escape with their lives more or less intact.

He does nothing but sit, though his lights brighten some as the rant carries on.

Smokescreen - Yesterday at 11:46 PM

Smokescreen finally finishes his call to the medbay, though he's still watching over the deceased Soundwave's frame. He's looking away, but is smiling just a bit. Prowl was actually right- this entire event- it was so worrying, and stressful, and Megatron really did need to hear that, Smokescreen felt. He's going to have to ask Soundwave to thank Prowl for it later.

For now, Smokescreen's looking over at Bee, comming him, ::I got the medbay ready- we can bring them there, so they can monitor him and help him stabilize. And- and maybe there's something they can do for Soundwave?::

Bumblebee - Yesterday at 11:49 PM

:: How do we get him out of here? I don't think he can walk, and we can't carry him. :: Bee's been on the receiving end of those long, self-flagellating thoughts from Megatron before. The words aren't anything new to him, but he's insulted by the idea that they all think it's something he's never thought about before. He holds on tighter. Fine then. It's he's going to be the devil's advocate, then so be it.

April 25, 2018

Smokescreen - Today at 12:07 AM

::I think we might be able to get him out together. He can't be that much heavier than Optimus, right? I can call and get some more bots to help out. That's probably the smarter idea.:: And just like that, Smokescreen starts to make a call, though it may take a few more moments for bots to get to the bridge and arrive to help carry Megatron out. Smokescreen's trying to think of any sort of cover story for what just happened. Maybe a fragged up acid storm? But everyone probably heard Unicron... Maybe the truth is the best option.

Megatron - Today at 12:08 AM

Ah. So it's Prowl. That righteous indignation is immediately recognizable no matter the frame. But barring the sudden recognition, Megatron is taken aback by the outburst. None of it was anything that he hadn't told himself at some point since his victory, but to hear it literally spat at him with such vitriol... He stares, wide-eyed, unable and unwilling to argue despite the way his optics slide into their trademark glare. He had been the cause of this, it was all his fault and it could have been so much worse... but he was also the only one who could make it right again. This Prowl will be remembered. He certainly feels more awake now.

Awake enough to realize that Bee had just now referred not to this Soundwave, but to his conjunx. Pistons straining in protest, Megatron tries to sit up, knowing even before he sees the frame why Soundwave isn't knelt beside him in relief, too. His helm bows, and even though he's mostly upright now of his own accord, the mangled warlord feels even weaker than he had when he couldn't move. A deep grief slips out from the cracks of his tightly wound field, but he doesn't let it show on his face, continuing to glare now at the ground.

"I did dare, and it cost me... everything. It has already been decided... that Cybertron will decide my part in its future. Unable to alter the past either... I will not atone for my past by begging forgiveness. I will do so by taking action." Megatron's wrecked helm lifts back to glare daggers at Prowl. "That is how change is made to matter."

Prowl - Today at 12:14 AM

Prowl glowers at Megatron, trying to work some sort of reply into words. He used up what most of what few he had at his disposal shouting at Megatron for his idiocy.

But after a long moment, he nods once, sharply, and snaps, "Damn straight." He'd far rather see Megatron dead than trying to atone; but if he HAD to atone, it had to be through actions rather than words.

And with that, he sinks to sit on the floor, back sliding against the wall, to drop his hand protectively over the reliquary again.

Bumblebee - Today at 12:16 AM

Bee huffs and hauls one of Megatron's arms onto his shoulders with a big heave of effort. "I'm glad your back. Let's go home."

Soundwave - Today at 12:09 PM

The taste of grief and the hesitation in Megatron's response call to Soundwave from across the room, pulling his focus away from the internal echoes of Prowl's furious outburst. So the old fool's promising to mend his ways, is he? Talking about loss and prices paid, as if he knows a damn thing about any of that. Megatron dares to claim he understands what "everything" means when he wasn't even there to experience it himself, locked neatly and safely away in some distant room, or cupboard, or wherever it was Smokescreen and Bumblebee found that crystal.

Maybe someone who knows what "everything" actually is should show him the truth. Someone who couldn't scream and claw at their spark when it cracked open again and again and again because their Lord would have discarded them for showing weakness. Someone who ALSO made the mistake of stealing a fragment of a god and now teeters on the edge of their own awful realization, only managing to delay the inevitable collapse because they'd rather die than let Megatron witness it. They should sear it into Megatron's spark for all eternity, so he'll never, ever forget why he made these promises.

If it also happens to please the cruel, hateful side of them that wants to see Megatron suffer the way they and everyone else have? Unexpected perk.

Soundwave sends a single private text message with the misleading title "Personal Guidelines, Subject: Atonement" in the hopes it will encourage Megatron to examine the contents.

If he does, he'll see and hear Soundwave and Ravage's memories of the earlier encounter with the late Herald. They contain all of the alternate's furious screeching and all of his broken sobbing. All of the pain and anger shoved at Ravage. Every whispered "I killed him". No distraught sound or uncertain action proves too small to share or too dull to jab in and twist between Megatron's emotional seams.

May every single nanosecond of it haunt Megatron until the day he finally, truly dies.

Megatron - Today at 10:02 PM

Megatron very pointedly does not want to hear the traitor's opinion on how he can fix this mess. Nothing can fix this and he's fairly certain they know that. He doesn't want to move for how much effort it takes, for how much he's loathe to explain any part of this to medics, but more than that he doesn't want to stay here. Here, he's faced with accusations he can do nothing but agree with, reminding him of everything that's gone wrong, not to mention the faces of once-beloved ghosts glaring at him from either side of Soundwave. He can't look Rumble or Frenzy in the eye.

It takes him several tries to get close to standing, but he knows he has to; the pair of Autobots can't carry him and the other two certainly won't help. With no other choice, Megatron snarls, hauling his misshapen frame to its pedes.  He stands there, collecting strength he doesn't have.

"...Thank you, for what it's worth." He addresses everyone present, familiar and not, too much of his spark in it. He too finds a comm channel to the medbay.

::Singer. Clear the room.:: He's in no shape to explain why.

Prowl - Today at 10:06 PM

Prowl flinches when Megatron lurches upright, fingers convulsing on top of the reliquary. Then he stills again.

Smokescreen - Today at 10:11 PM

As Megatron starts standing, Smokescreen goes back over to help him up, trying to give him some support, in case he needs help staying up. He'll have to come back for Soundwave's frame once Megatron is safely inside. But it doesn't seem like the living Soundwave would have any plans to destroy the body handy, so Smokescreen figures it'll be okay.

Bumblebee - Today at 10:13 PM

Bee slides down to the ground, and while Megatron makes his slow march into the bridge, he keeps an optic on Prowl and Soundwave. His face speaks volumes. No funny business. Not another word. That's enough out of both of you.

But it looks like Smokescreen can't make it through the portal with both the big bots. He gives Megatron's leg a little pat and moves his vigil to Soundwave's body. He'll stand guard until he can be collected.

Soundwave - Today at 10:16 PM

Oh, he has plenty of plans he could enact. But Bee is still standing there, and he doesn't want to leave Prowl alone right now, so quiet sitting it is.

Bumblebee - Today at 10:17 PM

"I'm pickin' you two for my soccer team, someday."

Soundwave - Today at 10:18 PM

[[...What.]]

Prowl - Today at 10:18 PM

No acknowledgment.

Bumblebee - Today at 10:18 PM

"You're really good at kicking things when they're down."

Prowl - Today at 10:19 PM

Even more no acknowledgment.

Bumblebee - Today at 10:20 PM

"Some big fraggin' heroes you two turned out to be." Bee crosses his arms. "Because you two have carte blanche to hurl any insult, any verbal abuse, any spare bit of hate you have at my friend because's he's the bad guy. Because it's okay, he deserves it."

He huffs. "Thanks for the help saving the planet, I'll forever remember the both of you as the mechs who insulted my friend, told me you'd kill his husband, treated me like I was stupid, and did it all for the good of Cybertron." He tosses his head at Prowl. "Real good Autobot there." And to Soundwave. "Great example to set for your deployers."

Soundwave - Today at 10:39 PM

Soundwave ignores the joke he doesn't quite get in favor of addressing the actual meat of the complaint being served. [[Remember this however you wish. He never claimed to be a hero, or kind, or a friend to your friends. He did what was necessary. It was never about anything else.]]

He glances around to his deployers with the optic sensors on one feeler, still watching his alternate's frame.

[[And his deployers know who he is. The majority of them would have done the same. Or worse.]]

Megatron - Today at 10:42 PM

Megatron doesn't turn around, he can't. Part of him cheers Bumblebee on, part of him wishes he would take their side. They're right, it's his decisions that led them all here. Bee is right, he's just woken up to find all of his worst fears realized. He starts shaking, stumbling as the bridge opens. "Don't leave him there with them," he whispers to Smokescreen. "Please." Whether he's referring to Bee or his conjunx's frame is unclear.

Smokescreen - Today at 10:47 PM

Seeing Megatron this weak... A few years ago, he would've been happy to see that. Now, it's reminding him of Optimus. Close to joining the well, worried about the others more than himself... Smokescreen's grip on Megatron tightens.

"What about you, though? Are you gonna be okay?" Smokescreen's trying to keep him stable, whispering as Smokescreen starts leading him towards the bridge. "I'm gonna get you into berth, and then me, Bee, and Sounds will be here, too. Don't worry. Bee's pretty  tough, you know. And he won't let anything happen to our Sounds."

Bumblebee - Today at 11:16 PM

Bee stands, watching, until he's collected. Prowl and that other Soundwave don't get another look, and with that, the ordeal's finally, really over.

Megatron - Today at 11:21 PM

"Heh... I know he is..." Limping through the swirling vortex, he has to stop a few times to keep from falling to... is there even a floor inside a ground bridge? Either way, he can't keep from shaking, from the strain of keeping himself from going limp.  Okay? What an inane question...

Finally with Smokescreen's help, and soon after the medic's, Megatron makes it through the bridge, ordering it to remain open for a while longer. Singer, the vehicon surgeon, is doing his best not to gawk at the horror his leader has become, falling into the analytics of his trade. Megatron refuses to lay on a berth, using both servos to cling to the side of one until everything stops spinning, or until Bee and Smokescreen and... everyone is near. Whichever comes first.

Smokescreen - Today at 11:25 PM

As soon as Megatron's sitting, Smokescreen's giving him a pat on the shoulder, before running back out to go for Bee and Soundwave, waving at Bee, "He's in there, safe and sound. Let's get Soundwave next and hope everything'll turn out okay." Smokescreen's going over to Soundwave's frame, lifting him up, but waiting for Bee before he starts moving.

Bumblebee - Today at 11:30 PM

Bee's at his side and through the bridge with him.

[typewriterbot]

untitled

this is months old, but @nancrow and i wrote about our superhero ocs going through a failsafe simulation like in yj, so it’s sad and p much everyone dies, but it’s okay cuz it’s not real

read it if u want, cuz i’m p sure this is the late night ramblings of someone who should’ve went to bed before writing this all

It wasn’t supposed to be Mimi that died first. She was the youngest and it was an unspoken agreement between everyone else on the team that they were supposed to protect her and they didn’t. Micah could count on one hand the number of times Blake had flown off the handle and given into all that rage they had with reckless abandon, but this? This was worse somehow. So worse, in fact, that Micah completely misses Alex mumbling to herself and lagging behind.

All he hears is a loud zap! and Idris cursing up a storm behind the team breathlessly. Ed’s hand was all Micah had, but he could feel him tremble. If he stopped to comfort Ed then they would both be dead, and he couldn’t do that to Inez. They couldn’t both vanish into nothing. He grasped Ed’s hand tighter when he felt fingers slip through his grasp. Ed must have known that Micah wouldn’t let go of his hand willingly because not even a second later he was slammed into Blake and Ed pulled his hand away and all Micah could hear over his own pleas was Ed bellowing for them all to run.

Blake is a furnace even at arm’s length. From his spot on the ground, hunched over and crying into his hands because Ed picked the worst fucking times to be heroic, Micah can feel the heat wavering overhead. He knows that Blake is angry. He knows that if Blake tried to comfort him then he’d only get hurt in the process, and that makes him cry harder. Concrete breaks and Blake is seething and it feels like hours before Micah uncurls himself, but really it’s Uriel hoisting him up by his arm. The speedster is grim-faced. Jaw visibly clenching, and Micah has no idea what’s going on in her head. Velocity helps him stand up, one hand on his back to keep him steady, and she leans forward, her voice gentle and soft against his ear. A spark of lightning passes over Velocity’s hand, and before Micah can say “Don’t,” Velocity and Uriel rush out of their refuge, and it’s Idris who curls an arm over his shoulder and gets him to move.

It takes Idris physically dragging him away from the fight that makes Micah realize that he has no idea what has been going on since Ed died. A look at Blake tells him all he needs to know about how they’re doing. He’s never seen plasma drip out of their mouth like that before, and the heat emanating from their body is still scorching but he manages to grab hold of their wrist for a second, just to make sure they’re still alive. On his shoulder, he can feel Idris’s arm morph into some inhuman thing with claws and pulsing veins. When he looked up, the entire left side of Idris’s face is covered in that weird black goo that leaks from their eye when they use their power. Their eye is red, sclera black, and the corner of their mouth is twisted to show an impressive amount of fanged teeth. Micah realizes that he’s been useless this entire time, and it makes his heart hurt. He’s a Green Lantern, scenarios like this are supposed to be something he can handle. He’s supposed to be able to keep going because that’s what a Green Lantern does. It’s what Hal does, it’s what John does; it’s what Kilowag has lived through and he can feel the power of his ring waver. His heart catches in his throat. He closes his eyes tightly and he feels himself be passed from the strangeness of Idris’s hold to the burning heat of Blake’s arms. When he opens his eyes again Idris is a huge black mass of writhing limbs and innumerable teeth, screaming at their enemies. Micah feels wretched as he watches Idris die.

He wishes Hal was around. If only because being around his goofy mentor made Micah feel safe, that he could absolutely do everything and anything. He wishes he could come up with some stupid plan that would save the day, or at least their skins long enough to actually plan. There is one thing he knows: Blake is stronger than he is. From the plasma pouring out of their mouth to the high body temperature, Micah knows that Blake could probably destroy everything around. Blake has an iron grip on him, but lets go because Micah lies. He lies about their grip hurting, and it’s underhanded and wrong and not at all what he would do normally, but these are desperate times. If one of them has to survive then it has to be Blake. Micah pulls on the rage and sorrow and uncertainty and turns it into something he can use once he’s launched himself into the middle of a group of the most nondescript enemies he has ever seen now that he’s not being useless. It’s almost insulting that these things killed so many people.

He yells in frustration, and he feels a burning sensation throughout his entire body. It’s different from the pulsing heat of Blake’s rage-induced plasma. It pulls on his muscles, makes his skin tingle, and even though he can’t think of a definite shape he makes something big enough to destroy the enemies surrounding him. He’s pissed because it’s not enough and he knows it. He’s pissed because he’s leaving Blake behind. He’s burning himself out and he can’t even care.

Micah is dead before he hits the ground.

[hysterialevi]

In the Smoke pt. 16 (Cobblebats)

From Bruce’s POV

THE NEXT MORNING

Waking up to the sound of birds chirping, I found myself bundled up in a tangle of blankets as I rubbed my eyes, blearily gazing around the dim room. It was only eight in the morning, and judging by the empty, cold spot next to me, Oz had taken his leave while I was asleep. I wasn’t surprised, exactly, but I had to admit that I was still a little disappointed.

And to be honest, Oz seemed a lot more...different...last night. I didn’t know if just dreamt the whole thing, or if it actually happened, but something about him was significantly more caring than usual. Like he was truly concerned for my safety. It wasn’t very often that I got to see his more human side, and the fact that he so openly showed it to me made me think something bad occurred. Well, whatever it was, I just hoped that Oz was all right. 

Dragging myself out of bed, I trudged over to the wardrobe and pulled out the first shirt I grabbed before sluggishly making my way downstairs, the sound of the TV quietly breaking the silence. It was a cold and crisp morning, and after getting some well-needed rest, I felt much better compared to yesterday, even though some minor symptoms of the drug lingered.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, I saw no sign of my father or Alfred--and actually--it looked rather empty in the manor at the moment. There was no light in the slim gap underneath the door to my father’s office, and I didn’t hear any other voices besides the ones coming from the TV. I guessed no one was home.

Well, maybe not no one.

Entering the living room, I found a man relaxing in the plush couch as he watched the TV, holding an all-too-familiar silver pistol in his hand.

“...Oz?” I called out. His head snapped towards me.

“Ah,” Oz stood up from his seat, placing the pistol on the coffee table, “g’morning, sleeping beauty.”

“You stayed.” I happily said, earning a somewhat bashful smile from him.

“Not for the whole night,” he quickly replied, almost like he didn’t want to admit that he was being kind for once. “I left for a second to see Lady Arkham after you fell asleep, but, uh...yeah. I came back. Didn’t want you to wake up alone, and all that.”

I looked around the manor. “What about my dad? And Alfred? They didn’t see you?”

He shrugged. “No one was here to see me when I returned. Though, I did overhear your dad talkin’ on the phone with someone before he left. Somethin’ to do with Falcone. Maybe they went to see him.”

I crossed my arms, scowling slightly. “He would, wouldn’t he? Even after telling me he wants to help this city.”

Oz solemnly brought his eyes to the family portrait. “And even after what happened with your mum, too.” He let out a sigh. “Some men never change, Bruce. No matter what. They just live out the rest of their lives as the same person, doing the same things, around the same people. Those men are dangerous.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice. My father’s living proof of that. So are his ‘colleagues.”

Oz walked closer to me, holding my hand. “Well, they won’t be living proof for long. Lady Arkham’s told me that she has a new job for you. Something a lot bigger than what you did at the debate.”

I scoffed playfully. “You mean bigger than murdering Gotham’s mayor?”

Oz leaned in, grinning mischievously. “Better, too. You’re gonna help me take down Falcone. For good. I’ll give you the details later, back at HQ. Lady Arkham wants to discuss the plan personally with us. For now, let’s just enjoy the peace and quiet while we still can--”

As if on queue, the doorbell suddenly rang, causing Oz’s expression to flatten. I chuckled.

“You were saying?”

He gestured to a nearby hallway, starting to wander off. “I’ll be hiding there. You go on and greet your guest.”

Once Oz was completely out of sight, I hurried over to the front door, taking a second to straighten my shirt and wake up a bit before opening it, only to find the last person I wanted to see at the moment. 

Harvey.

Shit. I mentally groaned. Why now? Out of all times to visit, why now?

“Harvey?” I said out of surprise, putting on my best fake smile.

The mayor was out of his typical, formal attire today, and wore a casual sweater instead, holding a small, paper bag in his hand along with a cup of coffee in the other.

“Hey,” Harvey replied shyly, blushing. “I--I brought breakfast. Can I come in?”

I worriedly glanced over my shoulder at Oz’s hiding spot. 

“I, ah...don’t know if that’s such a good idea.”

“Just for a minute,” he gently persisted. “I really need to talk to you. If you still want me to go, I’ll go. But I just have to get this out.”

I mindlessly bit my lip nervously, hesitantly letting Harvey inside. “...s-sure. Erm, thanks for the breakfast.”

“No problem,” Harvey placed the bag on the dining table. “It’s the least I could do for you.”

Purposely standing in front of the hallway Oz was hiding in, I tried to keep Harvey distracted.

“So um, what did you want to talk about?”

He exhaled tiredly. “Nothing too particular, actually. I’ve just been a bit...stressed out recently. Needed to see a friendly face, you know?” Harvey frowned a little. “I’ve also been a tad paranoid about...you.”

I quirked a brow. “Me?”

“Yeah. It’s kind of stupid, to be honest, but I guess I’m just worried that this,” Harvey gestured to his face, “might scare you off.”

I titled my head slightly, giving him an empathetic look. “I’m not gonna leave you because of one, little burn, Harv.”

He laughed softly. “It’s not really ‘little,’ but I still appreciate the thought--”

The man abruptly paused mid-sentence, his eyes gradually widening with every second as he stared behind me, frozen.

“Uh, Harvey?” I checked, dumbfounded. “You...you okay?”

He held out a shaky hand, pointing at the coffee table as I followed his line of sight. He was looking at Oz’s pistol.

“T-that gun,” Harvey breathed out. “I...I recognize it. I saw it at the debate. It belongs to Penguin!” He flicked his eyes back to me, bewildered. “Why do you have Penguin’s gun, Bruce? What is it doing here? Is he around!?”

Harvey’s more paranoid side jumped out again, just like when I spoke with him at City Hall, and he began pacing around the living room in fear, holding his head in his hands.

“No no no, no,” he rambled frantically, “not again, not again. Oh god, not again.”

I cautiously approached him, carefully laying a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“Harvey, it’s all right,” I reassured. “You’re safe--”

“--Safe!?” He suddenly roared at me, his voice much lower and raspier than before. “I’m not an idiot, Wayne. Not like Harvey. I know Penguin’s here! And no one’s safe when he’s around! Where is that masked lunatic!? Tell me! I’ll rip him to shreds!”

“Harvey,” I repeated, “you need to calm--”

He violently snatched me by the collar, yanking me towards him until our faces were mere inches apart.

“TELL ME!”

“Hey!” Oz aggressively called out from the hallway, emerging from his hiding spot as he joined the scene. “Get your hands off him.”

Practically throwing me to the floor, Harvey averted all his attention to Oz as if I weren’t even there, smiling maniacally.

“Ah, and there he is,” Harvey began to prowl towards him. “Oswald. Cobblepot. The notorious Penguin. I should’ve known it was you. It all makes sense now. You’re going to suffer for everything you’ve done.”

Oz stood his ground. “You’d better get outta here, Dent,” he warned. “And fast.”

“Or what?” Harvey fired back. “Harvey won’t be pushed around anymore. No, he’s gonna make them pay! Everyone who thought they could hurt him and get away with it! Starting. With. You.”

I quickly got back on my feet, grabbing the bigger man by the arm in an attempt to restrain him.

“Harvey, don’t!”

Out of reflex, he carelessly swatted me away, slamming his fist directly into my face as blood trickled down my nose. That seemed to snap him out of it for a second.

“Bruce!” He apologetically exclaimed, digging his fingers into his hair. “I’m...I-I’m sorry.”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” I snapped.

“Up until now, Harvey’s been weak,” he growled, falling back into insanity. “He’s been afraid.” Removing the prosthetic, he revealed the horrific burn behind it as Oz let out a gasp.

“Holy shit.” He whispered.

“This...this is the monster they all know that you are,” Harvey continued scolding himself as he circled around the room, stopping at the family portrait. “Embrace it!” He threw a punch at the painting, shattering the frame’s glass.

“No, no!” Harvey hissed, tearing himself away from the damage he’d just dealt as he turned to me and Oz. “Oh, god. This is what you wanted to see, isn’t it, huh? The freak!”

“Harvey...” I said sorrowfully, unsure of what else to do.

Before Oz or I could react however, Harvey had torn the portrait off the wall with an enraged shout and hurled it towards Oz, fortunately missing him but harming the frame even further.

“Jesus, Harvey!” I yelped, frightened at the vicious change in his personality. All traces of his original self had all but disappeared, and right now, it seemed like there was no breaking him out of this psychotic episode. He slipped out a coin from his pocket.

“Of course, gotta be fair about this,” Harvey snarled, twirling it between his fingers. “Can’t play favorites. They both deserve it. One way or another. How about we flip for it?”

I shook my head. “This isn’t funny!”

“No...” he ignored, “no...it really isn’t.” Tossing the coin into the air, a wicked smile came to his wretched face once he saw the result. 

“Bruce,” Harvey announced. “Looks like you’re first!”

Like an angry bull, he suddenly charged towards me with a ferocity I’d never seen, letting out a madman’s yell as I stayed paralyzed in place like a deer in headlights, unable to move.

Before Harvey could even touch me though, Oz had already thrown himself in front of the mayor and tackled him onto a nearby table, restraining him with a surprising amount of ease.

“Always getting in the middle of things...!” Harvey taunted, forcefully shoving Oz off as he returned his attention to me and prepared to attack.

Hastily grabbing the closest object, I held it defensively at him, backing away slowly.

“Stay the hell away from me!” I shouted. He closed the distance between us, his shadow towering over mine.

“The call’s already been made!”

Once again, Oz intervened and pulled Harvey backwards, only to receive a fist to the face. As a result, the mayor wagged his head as if he were trying to shake the voices out, coming back to reality for a moment.

“No...! I...I don’t want to hurt you...this isn’t...!” He wandered into the kitchen, resting his hands on a counter for a second as he eyeballed a steak knife, eventually picking it up.

“Harvey, put the knife down!” I exclaimed, but to no avail. He turned around, raising the weapon with a devilish grin. Oz protectively bolted in front of me.

“Bruce!”

Switching back to his other side, a pang of realization hit Harvey as he buried his face in his hands, staring at the knife with uncertainty until he flung it into a wall, almost tearing his own hair out.

“He’s gonna hurt someone!” Oz said to me. “You know we can take him out.” He glared at the mayor. “Have you lost your bloody mind!?”

Even though I knew it was a risky decision, I voted against fighting Harvey and attempted to take a more gentle approach, my heart thumping in my chest as I tried to bring his temper down.

“Harvey,” I looked him directly in the eye. “You need. To calm down!”

“What are you doing?” Oz blurted out.

Unfortunately, my attempt failed, and Harvey simply continued his rampage, staring at me with dagger eyes and clenching his fists. “No going back now.”

He threw a number of punches at me, his knuckles just barely missing my face as I stepped away from him, trying to avoid the attacks.

“C’mon, Harvey! That’s enough!”

Completely disregarding me, the mayor heavily lurched at me again, causing both me and Oz to leap out of the way as he collapsed onto the table, awkwardly splitting it in half under his weight. He didn’t get back up.

For a while, Oz and I just stood there in shock, gaping at the wreckage around us and at the man who caused it all, both of us at a loss for words while Harvey remained on the floor.

“Oh...god...” the mayor finally said, sniffling. He gazed up at me in desperation, tears flooding his eyes. “...please,” he begged. “I don’t wanna be alone, Bruce.” Harvey fell to my feet, sobbing uncontrollably. “Please, not with him...! I can’t...oh, god, I can’t listen to him!”

Exchanging looks with Oz, I tentatively knelt beside Harvey, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“You’re not alone. I’m right here. Okay?”

“I am. I am...I am...” He got up from the floor, heading for the front door in defeat. “My fault. All my fault.”

“Harvey, don’t.” I tried to block him, only to be pushed away.

“Bruce,” Oz said as the mayor skulked off, “I--I don’t think we can help him. Not on our own. He needs a professional.”

“He’s my friend, Oz. I won’t abandon him.”

Harvey opened the door, glancing back at me. “It’s okay, Bruce...I’ll go...I don’t deserve your help. Or your love.” 

His voice returned to a growl. “...Go off with your tail between your legs.” His eyes widened at the abrupt change. “I’m sorry...”, Harvey cried, “I’m so sorry.”

“Harvey!” I called after him, but he was already gone. 

Standing in the middle of the broken living room, my eyes fell to the floor in despondency as Oz caressed the side of my arm, wiping the blood from my face.

“You all right, Bruce?”

I gulped, afraid that if I uttered even one word, I would burst into tears. 

“I don’t wanna turn into that, Oz.” I whimpered, staring at my blue veins. “I don’t wanna become like that. But it’s gonna happen anyways, isn’t it? I’m gonna go crazy. I’m gonna lose my mind.”

Without saying a word, Oz pulled me into a tight embrace, never letting go.

“You’re a good man, Bruce. Good just like your mum was. And no matter how much the drug damages you, I won’t forget that. Your descent into madness may be inevitable, but we still have time to make things right before that happens.”

Looking up at Oz, my sorrow slowly grew into a hungry desire for vengeance, wanting to destroy everything my father had built over the years and everything he created, including that goddamned drug. It had harmed enough people already, including Esther, Harvey, and even myself. It was high time he got a taste of his own medicine, and I was more than happy to be the one to deliver it.

“Then let’s get to work,” I said. “Falcone won’t live to see the end of this week. Whether he’s ready or not.”

[jess-the-vampire]

Tom Vs The Forces Of Evil (Au), Chapter 12

Previous / Next

Tom could feel himself significantly get worse as the days grew closer to Friday, and it was becoming harder for him to hide it from Marco. He had to keep excusing himself into the bathroom or to go practice spells so he could calm himself down before he hurt someone. Marco was no stranger to the boy's temper so occasionally he could tell something was up and would step in to help and ask what was the matter. Tom as per usual blamed most of it from the stress of his dad, or getting another bad grade in school, or bullies picking on him. Marco didn't ask further questions and would try and relax him. It was eating Tom on the inside how much he was keeping from Marco. His newfound crush, how he tortured that monster, the threats against him, anything on the bond in general, he couldn't keep this from Marco forever. The crush thing could come and go, but the rest were never going away, he couldn't just expect his dad to forget about Marco, and the bond and wretched torturing were never going to leave his mind no matter what. It was only a matter of time before all these secrets bit him. But there were so many risks to it, especially if his dad caught wind of him telling Marco any of this. Which is why Star's return was so thankful, having any ear on his dad made him feel a lot better these days.

He was sitting on the floor in front of his mirror, talking to his ex, something he never really thought would happen again after the ball. Star wasn't a great listener, far from it, she could barely stand still most of the time, and those pointy ears were focused elsewhere sometimes. But she was all he had as far as getting much from Mewni, Ponyhead was too much of a blabbermouth to talk to about anything serious. At least Star could keep a secret. The girl's ears pricked up as Tom spoke about...It, he blasted the floor with a spell, not hiding how sad he was in front of her. "You....like Marco?" "Yeah...." Tom muttered another spell under his breath, and tiny animals erupted from his wand. "But he doesn't..?" "Yeah...." "Tom, i'm sorry...." "It's not your fault Star, just my luck I suppose...I mean, Marco probably wouldn't date me anyway, it's fine..." "Tom....i'm sure that's not true...", Star argued," Marco really likes you, i'm sure he'd date you..." "Well if Marco really wanted to date me then why didn't he?", Tom snapped at her, fighting back tears, "It's not like i-I'm...seeing anyone else anyway?! Star, he doesn't like me like that ok?! He's had this crush for years!! Why did I think i could just walk up to him and ask him out when I knew he liked someone else?!" Tom zapped another part of the floor, leaving a hole in his floor, he quickly fixed it up before anyone noticed and looked back up at a more concerned Star. "Tom..." "I just can't like someone, no...the world just has to tell me how unlovable I am every time.....", Tom complained, more to himself then the princess before him. "Geez, how does my dad expect me to even have a heir if no body even wants to date me?" "Tom...Hey, it's- " "The only two people in the world I like enough to date, and i can never be with either.....and i just...i'm stupid....", Tom pulled his legs towards him and buried his face in them , "I'm so stupid.....I just....I wish i didn't like Marco..." "Tom, you know that's not true...", Star said, "It's not bad for you to like him, you don't have to be ashamed of it..." "Then why am I being punished for it?", Tom mumbled, "I-I just..." "Crushes don't always work out..", Star said, sitting down herself, "But...you’re stronger, for still being Marco's friend..." Tom looked up and wiped his eyes. "I mean, you still want him to be happy with whoever he likes, you still want to be his best friend.....that's really strong of you.." Tom sniffled, "Yeah..." "You're a good friend Tom...." Tom didn't reply, he wiped his nose onto his knee and tried to calm himself down. Star sighed, she was going to regret this. "Tom, Marco and I have been talking.....he came to me....to ask about your dad....", She said, making the boy look up, but before he could get angry she held out a hand. "He was concerned, he wanted to help you, he wants you to be safe....he wants....you to live with him instead.." Tom's sudden look of anger turned into one of shock and affection, he blushed, and ran his fingers through his pink hair. "He....he's trying to take me away from my dad?" "My Mom's looking into it....he just.....Marco wants what's best for you too Tom...", she bit her lip, flashing her pointed teeth, "Tom, no matter what you think, you're Marco's entire world....he puts you first just as much as you put him...Jackie is never going to replace you.." "He's allowed to have other friends to care about it's just...", Tom looked off to his side at the rabbit cage, and Star realized he was indicating he didn't have many other friends to hang out with. She smiled, "Well, that's just it then!!! You, me, and some other people should hang out together!!! Having more friends then Marco outta help you get over it!!" "Yeah...maybe..", Tom said, done crying, "Maybe I just...need some time away...with other people.." "Yeah, you can come over to the Underworld!!! you got anyone you could call?" Tom, picturing a blabbering ponyhead and a beanie-headed girl, "I guess there is some people i could invite..?" "Awesommmmme!!", Star giggled, "Let's do it.....This Friday!!! Sound good?" Tom looked to his bedroom door, knowing Marco was talking to Jackie in his own room down the hall, the girl he was asking out the very same Friday. Something was better then nothing. "Yeah....let's do it..." - Friday couldn't come soon enough for Tom honestly, the day he was regretting at the beginning if the week slowly made him much more excited. He'd get to hang out, spend time with other friends and away from the drama of his dad and Marco. He needed a new safe space. Marco wondered why Tom didn't want to go with them and Tom mumbled out that since he was asking Jackie out he didn't want to make it awkward, followed by Tom wishing him luck, Marco appreciated it ; But he was clearly very disappointed. He didn't tell Marco he was going anywhere when Marco went out to meet Jackie, there was no point in making a big deal about it anyway, they shared a hug before Marco left and Tom closed the door behind him before cutting open a portal to the underworld. Janna was already there, and so was ponyhead, both talking happily with Star. Tom already felt like a 4th wheel. He was the only boy here and only now did he realize that. They all turned to him when he entered, Star grabbed his arms and yanked him over to him. "I found your friends!! They're suuuuuuupppperrr cool!!!", Star bounced up and down in place, "Janna over here wants to show me around earth someday!! And Ponyhead is supppper fun!!!! But now that you're here, we can do some fun stuff!!" "B-flyy!", Ponyhead looked Tom up and down, "You looked trashed, you do something crazy?" "What? No...I-I'm fine...", Tom mumbled, too sad to even demand to be called Tom. Janna and Star exchanged knowing looks. "Where's earth turd? You guys stop being besties...?" "I don't wanna talk about it lilacia-" "Did earth turd hurt you? I told you he was bad new-" "Let's do makeovers!!", Star interrupted, "C'mon Tom!! I'll do your eyeliner and Janna can do your nails!!!" Tom was about to protest when he realized that they were trying to distract ponyhead. "What am I supposed to do?",Ponyhead protested. "You can go pick out some music!!!" Star suggested, and she went looking around for the demon's radio. Tom didn't protest when the girls starting doing his make-up, at least they weren't doing anything malicious to him as he was trying to heal from everything happening to him. Knowing them they'd probably do who knows how much damage to Echo Creek together. He couldn't help but think of Marco though, Marco loved to help with Tom's makeup. Tom liked to ramble on sometimes and Marco would listen while he helped him, careful not to hurt his friend. Tom liked Marco's little nods and hums as he worked, they were little things but Tom tended to always pay attention to the smallest things. He must have looked a bit sad because Star was giving him a concerned face, she finished up his eyeliner and produced a smile. Ponyhead had finally managed to put music on, which Tom easily recognized as a Love Sentence Song. Janna finished up Tom's nails and Star pulled Tom onto his legs, "C'mon, you wanna dance? It could be fun!!!". Star started to dance wildly and it didn't take long for Janna and Ponyhead to join her, He knew Star was trying her best, but everything just reminded him of Marco. Marco fit into his life so perfectly that it was going to be a challenge cheering him up. Still Tom attempted to try and dance a little bit, tapping his feet and swaying from side to side. It wasn't making him feel a lot better, but at least he was trying. Star must have noticed too, because she grabbed Tom's arms and tried to help him move but with no effort. She frowned before using fire from her boots to help her fly, Tom looked up at her and she attempted to lift him off the ground. He clung to her a bit and managed to laugh, but then Janna jumped on Star's back, adding to the pile. Janna was a bit too much weight for Star though, and the three of them fell on her bed, laughing. "Janna, I was trying to cheer Tom up!!", She said with a smile. "I know...", Janna snickered, "But that doesn't stop me from wanting a ride too.." Star looked over at Tom, and a grin spread upon her face. "You'reeee smilliinnnngggg~", She teased. Tom made a fake pout and covered his face, "Pft, I don't smile Star you know me, i'm dark and broody..." "You have a pink rabbit Tom..." "So?" Star punched Tom's shoulder, giggling, "Wierdo..." Tom lightly punched her back, "You're a weirdo..." Star got Janna off of her and fixed her dress, "C'mon guys, let's play a game now!! Ponyhead!? How about you pick the game?" Ponyhead, who'd been watching them this entire time, felt relief being able to be more in the center of attention. "Alright FINALLY, how bout...TRUTH OR DARE!!" Tom shuddered, playing truth games with ponyhead was never fun. Especially since the last thing he wanted right now was to talk about himself and his secrets. Star also noticed the problem and tried to step in, "Or we could do another game?! Like uh-?" "Girl, you said I could pick the game!! That means I pick the game, which is truth or dare, so we're playing..", She went to the center of the room and the rest started to follow, Tom could see Star end him an apologetic look his way. Tom shifted nervously, and could only hope ponyhead had no intention of asking him anything personal. They sat in the circle, and Tom was happy to see Star and Janna next to him on both sides, both being protective of him. Before ponyhead could do anything Star put her hand out, "I'll go first, er....Janna!! Truth or Dare?" "Dare!!!", Janna said immediately. "I dare you....to show us what's inside your boot!!!", Star shouted, pointing at said boot. Tom gave the demon a weird look, "Why do you think something is in her boot?" "A demon knows Tom...", Star said with a smile. Janna shrugged and took off her boot and shook it upside down. A bunch of stuff fell out to Tom's surprise, her cellphone, a pocket knife, a pack of gum, a recite for who knows what, Marco's house keys, and a roll of tape. Tom just looked at her in confusion, "How do you keep all that in your boot and not feel uncomfortable?!!" Janna shrugged, putting everything back in her boot and putting the boot on her foot again, "Eh, it's not as bad as what i keep in my socks...." Tom was about to question it when Star nudged him and spoke, "Ok Tom, it's your turn!!!" "Oh uh.....Star?!! Truth or Dare?!", he said on instinct. "TRUTH!!", She replied. "Uh...what did you learn in training? Like....what did you learn while you were away?" "Oh!! Well, my mom wanted to take me to train in a farther part of the underworld!! So i got to use axes and swords and I also finally got taught how to work with souls!!", She looked rather excited as she spoke, "My family has always taken care of souls on mewni and maybe soon i'll learn to raise the dead!!! It'll be so cool!!" "You don't know that spell already?", the prince looked at her in confusion, "I thought that was a bit more basic?" "Mom thinks i'll raise the dead for myself if i don't become more responsible, she's just being ridiculous....", Star huffed, "It's not like i was gonna summon the dead to get me food or anything, just for funsies....plus it's draining....i'd be too tired after awhile.." "Oh well, I hope you get to learn it eventually, i'm sure it'll come in handy...", Tom simply said, sometimes he wishes he could raise the dead, his ancestors were probably better company then his dad anyway. "Ok...my turn..", Janna announced, "Pony, Truth or Dare!" "DARE!" "I dare you, to...let me reach inside your neck!!!" Ponyhead groaned loudly, "Uhh...fInnneee, but don't touch my stuff, i don't wanna find my cell in your boot...." Janna grinned and reached next to her and into ponyhead's neck, she didn't seem too amused as Janna grinned. "How do you poop? I mean....you're hollow...." Janna said, "I mean, it's cool either way but..' Ponyhead immediately shook her off, "Ok turns over...MY TURN!" Tom's heart stopped. "STAR!! TRUTH OR DARE!!!?" Then it came back. "Uh.....DARE!!", she replied, flashing fangs. Tom let out a sigh of relief, at least Ponyhead's new liking to Star kept her distracted from him. "Show me one of your demon spells!!! Make something!!" "Uhh...", Star bit her lip and stood up, Tom could hear her chanting something under her breath and see her eyes start to glow. Tom leapt as some of the floor came apart underneath him and morphed into what looked like a small dog. Star's eyes stopped glowing and she regained her normal cuteness and picked up the small sculpture, "Demons have telekinetic abilities, but this spell kinda makes stuff come to life.....i haven't really mastered it yet...." Tom clapped, "I like it...." She smiled and sat down. "Thanks Tom...ponyhead, truth or dare!!" "Truth...", she replied simply. "How long have you and Tom been friends?", She asked sweetly, looking at both of them. "Oh? Me and b-fly have been friends since we were kids....we used to get in SO much trouble together, we used to sneak out and PARTY and his dad got Sooooooo mad!! Although he was kinda a downer most of the time, he used to sit by himself more then dance with the rest of us." Star looked over at Tom, who was looking away from everyone, he didn't seem to want to talk about this. "Well that seems cool!!", Janna piped in, also noticing Tom's mood change, "Tom? Uh....your turn!" She was clearly trying to change the subject immediately and Tom silently thanked her for that. "Oh uh..... Janna? Truth or Dare?", He asked, still thinking about those nights at the bounce lounge. Sometimes he forgot why he even used to sneak out, he never had too much fun at social events, but then again he wasn't very good at being social to begin with. "Truth..", she answered confidently, "And no, you can't date me..." Tom wasn't amused, "Why do you have Marco's keys in your boot?" "Why not?", She shrugged, Tom was about to interject when she cut him off. "Besides, these aren't Marco's actual keys, i got these copies done awhile back, cool right?", She said, now jingling said keys around, "Now if i had a skeleton key that would pretty sweet, but this is nice enough when I need to get some lunch from Marco's fridge.." "Do you even have your own house?", Tom asked. "Uh uh, one question at a time..", Janna said, "You'll have to wait your turn again to ask....now I'm going...". She looked Tom up and down, with a grin that made her scarier then even the demon in the room, "Tom....truth or Dare?" "Dare..", He blurted out, he would have to play at some point, the best he'd have to do would be to choose dare each and every time. "Let me hold your wand....", She held out her hand towards him, still grinning and Tom tightened the grip on his wand a little bit more. "My Wand's an important heirloom...I-I uh....that's probably not a good idea", Tom already felt upset enough about him throwing it, if anything else happened to it he was sure his dad would actually kill him in his sleep, and he might not blame him. "Dude, i just wanted to hold it....not use it..." "No....I said no...", He said a bit more angrily. Tom stood up, "I think i'm done...I don't wanna play anymore....". Star looked concerned, Janna was crossing her arms, and Ponyhead looked unhappy, "B-fly, if you're not gonna do the dare then- uh.....what happens when they don't do the dare?". She looked to Star and the demon thought for a moment, "Uh.....punishment?" Janna stood up, "Y'know, that could be funny, what'cha guys wanna do? We could dump ice water on him?" Tom backed up, "Guys, i just wanna stop ok? I'm not having fun anymore....can i just....can I leave?", He felt himself getting angry and he felt tears coming on again. Star bit her lip, "Yeah, let's just...move on to something else...." "Awww, c'mon, I wanted to do my turn!!!" Ponyhead whined. Tom grumbled, wand turning a noticeable green again, "Look, I don't feel like it ok?  I came here to have fun and play games and feel better and I don't feel like being messed with, or having my stuff touched, or being picked on.....I just....I need to be alone...." Tom stormed out of Star's bedroom door, closing it behind him and back falling against the door, sniffling. He didn't know what was up with him but he couldn't hold himself together right now, he swore a bit under his breath and cried a bit when Star teleported in front of him, frown upon her normally smiley face. "Tom, I'm really sorry..." "No, it's me....i'm just....i'm not right..." She sat down in front of him, "You wanna talk?" "Everything is falling apart....", He mumbled through his sobs, "My entire life, is nothing but a joke....a freaking curse. I get stuck with these stupid anger issues from my stupid father, keeping me from having friends for years....can't even talk to someone, be social half the time....because i'm just gonna drive them away...." Tom couldn't remember a time where Star sat still and listened to every word he said, but now all her focus seemed to be on him. "Then I finally get to escape him, t-to get rid of my issues....so I can be liked, end up making the best friend I could ever have, someone who cares about me, and wants to help me and stays with me despite me being a big jerk and getting upset....and then I start to LIKE him, but no....he doesn't like me back so I have to keep even that quiet!! Y'know? Right next to all my injuries from my dad and my family history and all the other secrets i have to keep from my best friend in the entire world because i don't want to lose him forever..." He clenched his fists, "But I can't be upset about it because being upset makes me do bad things, it makes me someone i hate....and being angry is wrong. Just like being myself is wrong to my kingdom, or how much i'm putting Marco's life at risk for even being close to him..." Star could see a faint green glow start to form in the boy's cheeks and eyes and he got more and more upset, "I just want to stop, I just want to be happy, live a normal happy life where i don't have to keep secrets or be terrified of the future, where I don't have so much pressure to be this perfect prince i'm not..." Star refused to move, despite tom clutching the floor behind him now, becoming more and more angry, "Marco is doing so much for me, he wants me to stay with him and even i don't know if I can do THAT, because me being there will only put him in more danger or i'll hurt someone...." Tears ran down his face heavily, "No matter how much I try to move on, it's never going to just go away I just want it all to stop....." It was sudden, but in a flash the demon princess wrapped her arms around the crying boy, Tom relaxed instantly, returning to normal and sobbing into her dress. "It's all my fault....If i hadn't come to eart-" "Tom....", Star started, "It's not your fault....none of this....is your fault...." "I deserve this...." "Tom, stop..." "Star, I know you're just trying to help, but no matter what i'm never going to escape this, i wish i didn't have to think about it, I wish i could just not talk about my life but I'm never going to move on until I get rid of it...." "Tom, you're going to get better, this isn't going to last forever..." "So much for my anger management..." Star grabbed Tom's shoulders and forced him to look into her eyes, She looked just as sad as he did frankly, but she wasn't crying. "Tom, I know moving on is hard for you, and it hurts now.....but it's not going to hurt forever....demons suffer all kinds of eternal pain deeper then yours..." "But-" She covered his mouth with one of her clawed hands, "Tom, it's ok to cry, and be angry, and be hurt....y-you don't have to hide it, you don't have to bottle it in cause you're scared or worried.....". Tom shifted, "You didn't think that before....you dumped me....", Star winced a bit. "I know...but I also had no idea about your Dad, and everything you were going through....and i'm sorry I made you feel like being upset was wrong....", She bit her tongue, "Tom, you're not gonna get better by not being angry again....never being angry....sounds weird...you just...need to find a way to be angry in a healthy way....not with the weird green magic.." "Why are you of all people telling me this?", Tom asked, sniffling. Star rubbed her neck in embarrassment, "I've had one too many talks with Brian.....he may of...made me think about you more then I wanted to..." Tom managed a smile out of his sadness, "You make it sound so awful..." Star made a face, "Sorry!" "No it's ok, Y-you make it sound so easy.....controlling my anger like that..." "I never said it was easy...", She said, "But nothing is going to change unless you allow it..." Tom wiped his face, "I-I wanna talk to Marco, No, I need to talk to him...He needs to know, he needs to know everything....I can't just...I can't keep hiding things from him, I promised to be honest and he's better off knowing even if...", Tom closed his eyes, "Even if we can't be friends anymore afterwards...." Tom pulled Star into a hug, "Thanks for just...Thanks...." She hugged him back, "Are you gonna be ok?" "Yeah...I just....I can't...I need Marco, I need to talk to him....even if he never talks to me again...he needs to know...", Tom stood up, "He needs to know about my Dad, that's he's in danger....that we're talking again, and that I...I..." Star nodded. "Hey Tom, Your birthday is almost here right?" Tom looked at her, a bit strangely, "Yeah?". "Can I come?" "You wanna come to my birthday party?", Tom actually looked surprised. "Yeah....I don't know about you and Marco...but...no matter what, you should have someone to party with..", She shrugged, "I mean.....it'll only be more fun with me there to dance...". She twirled around to demonstrate, Tom's tears dried. He almost forgot just how much she used to make him smile. "Yeah..I-I'd love to have you there..." Star squeaked in excitement, "EEeeeeeee!! I'm so excited!! I'll make it extra special for you Tom, Birthday's are the one day a year it's all about you and how special you are!! No one should be sad on their birthday!!!", She jumped up and down. "You'll see Tom, You're party is gonna go super great, Marco and you are gonna work it out, and things will get better..." Tom sighed, "M-maybe..." "Tom....C'mon...smile...it's gonna be ok...", She said calmly, "Now that you've kinda let it all out, you can start to work on solving it..." Tom forces himself to smile a bit, "It feels good...to talk about it..." "I'm sorry this event wasn't fun.......",Star apologized suddenly,"You don't have to stay...if you don't want to.." "No Star, You're right....I can't rely on Marco my whole life....I need to have other friends.....", Tom explained, "Just like how Marco can have Jackie...". He then crossed his arms, looking at the floor, "I think, I just need to work some things out first....I can't force myself to get better...I need time.." "Ok....",Star said, understanding. "But...I'd love to do this again, when...things are better?", Tom added, "It's still one of the nicest things someone's done for me....and..It's kinda fun having a group of friends to hang out with and play games with....I don't wanna be a downer on your fun..." "Tom, you we-" "Star, I was....just..you and Janna kept worrying about me, trying to keep me calm and happy, I don't want you guys to have to do that. I-I need to take some time to myself....for awhile..take care of some things....come back with a clearer mind...", Star nodded, understanding. Tom pulled out his scissors, "I'm gonna head home....before Marco gets back, take Janna home and tell her and ponyhead i'm ok and I just need some space..." "Are you sure you're even ready to tell him?", she asked. Tom took a step forward into the portal home, sad smile plastered on his face as he waved to his Ex. "No, not at all....but there's never exactly going to be a right time....." - Tom paced back and forth, awaiting Marco's return home. Part of him was regretting the choice to leave the Underworld and stop hanging out with his other friends, because despite how he felt on his inside it was still nice to have company surrounding him and making him laugh sometimes. He didn't even know where to start when speaking to Marco, would he start with the fact he could be in mortal danger with his father? Or with the fact Tom was growing a crush on him? There didn't seem to be a right answer to all of this on what was better for him to do. He thought about backing out but fought the urge. No, he was never going to get better by hiding his problems from Marco, at least if Marco knew he could help him come up with a solution. That Tom's inner thoughts could stop hurting him, that he could know for sure how Marco felt about him. He needed to stop hiding, it was time to face the music. He felt his heart drop when he heard Marco come up the stairs and knock on his door, "Hey Tom? I'm back!! Can I come in?". "Yeah.", Tom replied way too quickly, trying to regain his posture. Marco walked in and Tom was expecting him to be smiling or frowning from his time with Jackie, but he looked oddly neutral when he took a seat on Tom's bed. Tom watched him and took a seat next to him, "Marco? Uh....something wrong? Did you ask out Jackie?". Marco didn't answer, in fact he wasn't looking at him. "Marco?" "I couldn't do it....", Marco mumbled, "We went to the skatepark, she taught me some skating moves, I got to watch her on the board and we talked and had fun but I just....I couldn't ask her...I got cold feet Tom". The human looked sad, he covered his face with his hands, "I feel so stupid....". "Marco, y-you're not stupid....", Tom said, "When you really like someone, and you wanna ask them stuff....it's ok to be scared...". Tom reached over and touched Marco's back, "It's just....a big thing, and you can't take it back either...". "I felt so confident I could do it too......", Marco rambled on, "And I just....froze." Tom's arm wrapped around his friends torso and pulled him close, Marco's head fell on his shoulder, "It's ok...you'll have other chances...". "I know....It just sucks....", Marco sighed, "But enough about me,  What were you up to while I was out?I kinda missed having you there..." "Oh....nothing special...", Tom replied, "But...Marco...I need to talk to you...". Marco looked surprised, "Did something happen? Please tell me your dad didn't-" "No but...Marco, I-I ...You're in danger....", Tom managed, just barely. "Tom? I'm always in danger, we fight monsters together....", Marco started, removing himself from Tom. "No, M-my Dad....threatened to hurt you...when I went to see him...h-he...", The boy tried his best to relax, but he was clearly trembling, "I had to torture a monster in front of him and I couldn't and he was gonna hurt you and I should've said something before but I was scared he would do something horrible to you if he found out an-" Marco held Tom's shoulder, trying to clam him down, "Tom Tom!! No, Hey, it's ok.....". Marco was clearly still in a bit of shock, his heartbeat going a bit faster knowing Tom's father actually paid attention to him, and was using him against Tom. "Marco, stop saying it's ok, it's not ok.....I put a target on your back!!! And I've been hiding it from you for awhile now!! I should've warned you about my Dad, I was just...I was scared......and I did some bad things because I was scared!!" "Tom..." "I don't like hurting monsters ok? If they attack me first, sure I'm gonna defend myself...but hurting someone worse then how my dad hurts me....makes me feel awful!!! And I had nightmares for awhile about it and I-I just....I didn't want you to feel like I was a terrible person!!!" "Tom, you're not a terrible person....he made you do it....don't blame yourself..I'm not angry at you, you're scared of him...", Marco was trying to relax Tom, but the boy seemed too stressed, and very ashamed. Tom hugged his arms, sniffling, he didn't want to cry again today. "Marco, I come from a long line of kings like my dad, this is how things have been done for years, years of abuse on monsters and everything we've done. Marco, I've told you I want to be myself, grown to be me and not end up like my dad and you've told me i'm better then my dad. But.....I've never told you a lot about Mewni and it's history and maybe...I was just worried if I told you, you'd think.....That I was...", He trailed off, "I'm ashamed of my family Marco.....I didn't want you to know we've all been like this for generations....it's not something I'm proud of." "Tom....you can't pick your family.....", Marco said softly, "Your family has done some...bad things.....but you're different. You....You know what it's like...to be treated badly...to be hurt, you....you understand the monsters Tom...." "I don't like hurting people Marco....I don't wanna watch someone suffer....like I suffer...I was just....so ashamed of what I did....I just.....couldn't bring myself to tell you.", Tom sighed, "I just wish...I didn't have to be a prince....that this isn't the legacy I inherited.." "Tom, I've been keeping secrets from you too....", Marco admitted, making Tom look at him, "I....investigated your Dad, to find out what was happening, I talked to Star, Janna, and I got too involved in your business to try and help you... I didn't want to ask about it and worry you..." "Marco..", Tom felt a rush of affection overwhelm him, despite knowing some of this from Star. "I care about you Tom, and I just wanted to see if there was anything I could do to help....", the human sighed, "I'm not upset you didn't tell me, you wanted to protect me and yourself and that's ok....". Marco wrapped his own arm around his friend, "Your dad made you do something bad, he was making you into something you hate.....you've been bullied by him your whole life...and you wanted to keep me safe..." "But I did something terrible.." "We all do bad things Tom, but you didn't have much of a choice...it's ok.." "Well.....I'm not upset you wanted to help Marco....it's...really nice of you, to want to help me..", Tom said. "Well, I'm not upset at you for being scared and caring....and hey, it's ok....now that I know....we can be more cautious about your Dad...", Marco seemed a lot better now, rather more cheerful, although there was no denying he was nervous about being on a watch list for a mewman king, "I'm glad we both finally said this stuff.....it...honestly feels better to be honest with you...." "Yeah me too.." Tom looked at Marco's nervous smile and watched him play with his hair, he was adorable, in a dorky kind of way. Tom just had to say it, be honest with him, it was like ripping off a bandage. Marco would understand, he understood everything, he'd understand if Tom thought of Marco in that way. There was silence between them though, very awkward silence. Marco bumped Tom playfully, prompting Tom to bump him back, "I really did miss you y'know....you're so much fun to be around, you would've loved it....skateboarding failures can be so funny sometimes...". "I like spending time with you too Marco....", the mewman smiled, "You're just....so wonderful...and so understanding..." "You like complimenting me don't you?", Marco joked, "Well I happen to think you're wonderful too...Tom, you're sweet, and fun, a goofball, amazing at magic, you have adorable pink hair, and a nice smile, and your eyes are a pretty shade of red and you care so much about your friends and you always do your best and you love talking about the craziest things, and you're so good with animals!!" Tom felt himself blush, "You're quite the charmer Diaz..." "Shut up, it's true..." Tom bumped him again, fiddling with his hands, "Marco..I um....I..." "Yeah Tom?" I like you Three words, that's all it would take. "I want you to be happy, no matter what you want to do with your life....or who you like....you deserve the best....", Tom smiled to him, "You may be a nerd, and kinda weird, and a bit of a mom sometimes....but..I hope you find what you're looking for..." Marco hugged Tom immediately, "Thanks so much...I hope you do too...." "I'm still planning out your birthday party with my parents, I invited Jackie too, maybe I can ask her out then?!!!", he beamed, "Tom, I promise I'm gonna make up for every birthday you spent on mewni with this party..." "I know i'm gonna love it already Marco.." Tom said. "Why?" "Cause you're going to be there...and that's everything I could honestly ever wish for..." Marco turned red, Tom's comment clearly making his nervous, "Tom...I-I um...are you?" Marco was about to say something when he heard his dad calling them downstairs for dinner, and Marco stood up, taking Tom with him. "We better go eat...", Marco suggested, suddenly a little bit more tense, ushering Tom downstairs and to the kitchen. Tom felt anxious, Marco's new tone of voice made him nervous. What did he say wrong? Did he make things more awkward between them? Tom felt a bit sick during dinner, he didn't eat much. Marco didn't look at him either, and Tom wished he could just get up and leave. This had been what he was afraid of. When he and Marco went back upstairs, Marco still seemed to be acting weird. Still not looking at him and clearly still lost in thought. "Marco? Is-are you ok?", he hesitated to ask, but he had to know if this was his fault. "Hmm? No, i-i'm fine....it's um....just nervous about asking Jackie out...y'know?", He didn't seem to be telling the truth, but Tom didn't question it further. "Ok...", Tom didn't hide the disappointment in his voice very well, but Marco seemed to be too much in though to notice. "Marco, I-I didn't mean, to say anything wrong, I-I uh....", Tom started, "I-I just....I wasn't trying to say..." "Tom, don't worry, it's nothing, you said nothing wrong it's.....don't worry about it....", Marco replied. Tom silenced himself, trying to avoid all thoughts of Marco possibly hating him. "Tom....i'm gonna change, you uh...wanna do anything tonight...?", Marco asked awkwardly. "No...it's uh...been a long day for me....i'm just going to sleep I think..", Tom said, "Just...we can hang out tomorrow....." "Yeah, Tomorrow....", Marco replied, still in his odd tone, "Let's rest and hang out tomorrow....I'm pretty tired..." "Me too, yeah..." "G'night buddy....", Marco said, heading into his room and closing the door behind him. "Night....friend....", Tom said, closing his own door behind him. Tom leaned against the wall and tried not to cry, maybe by tomorrow Marco would forget what he said and things would go back to normal, at least that's what he was hoping for. The boy fell face first on his bed, and for once, hoped the boy in the other room was really thinking about Jackie instead of him. Tom sighed. All he could ever wish for? What the heck was that? That was about as embarrassing as it could get!! Now he made Marco feel awkward and uncomfortable!! Freaking great Tom, you tried to tell him, only to make him freak out. He wanted to break something again, desperately wishing he kept his mouth shut. Why did he ever think Marco would like him? - In the other room, Marco laid down on his bed, not even changed. Thinking about Tom. Today with Jackie had been nice, they had fun, she was super easy-going, and she still made him nervous beyond belief. He didn't like her any less. But Tom, he just.... Marco felt himself grow warm. Him? He's everything Tom would wish for? Tom's a prince, and yeah he didn't have many friends or support throughout his life, but surely there were better things then some human. Tom cared about him, made tough choices for him, but this was like....this was like when he used to go on and on...about Star. Now that he thought about it, this was a lot like Star. Tom would go on about how cool she was and what made her special to him, before the events of the ball changed him. and now that Marco was really thinking about it, he talked about him the same way. Tom talked about how great he was, how he was the best thing that ever happened to him, that he deserved the best, Tom made him feel good about himself. "Tom's my best friend...of course he likes me and cares about me...", he muttered into the mattress, "I mean, we're friends....we're not like....". Marco turned on his side to go to sleep, but found he wasn't tired anymore, but lost in thought about his friend. All the times he's argued with Janna about dating Tom, or the times he's thought of him as cute, or the moments where he made him feel like the greatest person on earth. Marco felt warm as images from the ball flooded his mind, how cute he thought Tom was, and how nice it was to dance with him. Yeah for multiple times he's thought of Tom as attractive but...he always thought of it as him enjoying it in an aesthetically pleasing way, not in a romantic way. Not that Tom wasn't adorable, or really cute...he was..he just.. "you have adorable pink hair, and a nice smile, and your eyes are a pretty shade of red" He still remembered when he first saw Tom in his suit for the ball, how his outfit perfectly matched his features. He was beautiful, he was fun, and Marco didn't know what he'd do without him if anything happened. "But we're just friends...", Marco said to himself, closing his eyes and shutting out these thoughts of his friend, "And liking him would't work out anyway.....I like jackie, and he wouldn't want to date some human...not at risk of seeing me get hurt..." Tom deserved the best too after all, and that wasn't Marco. Marco let these thoughts drag him into sleep, hoping tomorrow would be better. unknowingly that down the hall, the boy in his thoughts was thinking the same thing.

[not-that-joker]

I told the beginning of this story before - about how during that time when I was supposedly dead, Goro left me a...whole bunch of interesting voicemails. Well, a few people have asked, so I’m going to share a little more of the story.

November 24, 17:35:

It’s me again. I know I’m probably the last person you’d want to hear from if you were there, but I just wanted you to know...I passed by Leblanc earlier today.  I thought about going in, but I just…couldn’t face it. I couldn’t stand the thought that you wouldn’t be there, let alone imagining what Boss would think if he knew what really happened to you. Do you remember what I said all that time ago, about how I felt like that was the only place I could truly be myself? Well…that’s gone now. It’s moments like this that I think it would have been easier to refuse the order and let him kill me instead. I suppose that’s a fair part of my punishment. Akira…I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.

November 25, 17:38:

Akira…it’s so good to hear your voice, even if it’s just the same old recording. I don’t know what I’m going to do when this number gets deactivated. I know this is so selfish of me, to keep calling like this, when I know you’d probably never want to hear my voice again, and I sure don’t deserve the comfort, but please…if there’s some way my words can reach you, please understand that I never wanted this. I never wanted you to die.

November 26, 02:48:

I’ve been having nightmares about it. I need to tell you something, something I’ve been trying to find a way to tell you for a long time – I’ve been doing that wretched man’s dirty work for years, but that was the only time I’ve ever had to kill anyone in the real world. I never wanted this – I never wanted any of it. I didn’t want to hurt anyone – except, perhaps, for him. But nothing has been as bad as this. I wasn’t prepared for the mess it would make – every time I close my eyes, all I see is your face fading into a grotesque splash of red. Of all people, why did it have to be you? It’s hard enough to hurt a stranger in such a clean, impersonal way as I’ve been doing all this time – but this...it’s too much.

November 26, 03:36:

Akira…I beg of you. Lend me your strength. Show me a way to hold myself together, to hide my guilt, to pretend it doesn’t hurt, so I can get our revenge. Please, wherever you are – guide me. Let me feel your presence again, help me rest, help me fight – the only way this could be any worse is if it all ends up being for nothing. I don’t want you to have died for nothing. Please…help me one last time!

November 26, 07:14:

I couldn’t get back to sleep. I guess I deserved that.

November 27, 00:09:

When I die, will I see you again? Or are there separate places for people like you and people like me?

November 27, 18:02:

It’s been a week since you’ve been gone now. I must sound pathetic calling you like this every day. I know you won’t be there to answer. I know you won’t be able to hear this.  But even just this little thing that lets me imagine, for a few fleeting seconds, that I can still say something to you – I don’t think I’d be able to finish my mission without it. Thank you for always having listened to me. As Joker, you were a truly great rival – and as Akira, you were an even better friend and lover. I’m so sorry it had to end like this. I will always miss you.

November 28, 19:42:

I lied and faked a lot of things, but what I felt for you wasn’t one of them. I truly did love you. I still do. Please…let there be a miracle. Come back, somehow. I don’t care if you hate me – I just want you to be alive! Please…please live. Please come back!

November 29, 17:27:

I realized today that even if I’d refused the mission, that alone probably wouldn’t have saved you – it would have merely killed us both. He would have gotten someone else to do the job. You would think this would relieve some of the guilt, but somehow it only makes it worse – I should have taken the risk. We could have saved each other, couldn’t we? But I was selfish and cowardly – why am I the one who gets to go on living? Because I was too scared to take even the first step toward fighting for you? This…this can’t be right…!

At this point the temptation to tell him the truth was so strong I started needing to have someone over with me when I listened to the messages. I hated that I couldn’t just answer and tell him and make him stop tormenting himself so much – but of course, until Shido was out of the picture, that wasn’t an option.

 I spent the next evening with Yusuke. He looked like he was going to have a heart attack when he saw a blocked number calling my phone.

 “Don’t worry. This has been happening every night for a while now,” I told him. “It’s nothing dangerous – no one knows I’m alive who shouldn’t.”

 I debated whether or not to let him listen to the voicemail too. On one hand, everyone was still angry at Goro for what had happened; the wound was still fresh, and I was the only one he’d opened up to on this level, so maybe, I thought, if the others heard this, they’d understand why I just went silent while they vented their anger over everything he did – why I couldn’t agree, even when I was the one who’d just “been shot”, that he was evil – but on the other hand, it was so personal that it just felt wrong to share.

 I decided to listen to it myself that night and decide after I’d heard it.

 Hey, Akira…remember that time at the pastry shop in Shibuya station, when you bought the last melon bread right before my turn in line? I was so frustrated and disappointed after I’d gone all that way just for that bread – but you noticed. Remember how I tried to convince you it wasn’t what I was there for, but you saw right through me and insisted on sharing? No – you probably wouldn’t remember, would you? Acts of kindness like that seemed like they were nothing to you…but I’ll never forget it. I went by that shop today and it was all I could think about. Why were you so kind to me? You knew, from the moment we spoke on that show, that we were destined to be enemies. So why…? You were…truly the greatest mystery I could never solve. I miss you.

I decided to keep it private, but Yusuke could tell something was up. He didn’t really know what to do about it, so we just talked about painting all night. It didn’t really solve much, but at least it made a good distraction.

The next night, the call came while I had Futaba over to play some games – and this time, I didn’t get a choice as to whether or not I shared it. As soon as I started listening, she grabbed the phone from my hand and put it on speaker. If it had been anyone else, I probably would have been angry about that. 

I had to cancel a TV appearance today. I blamed it on food poisoning, but the truth was that I couldn’t bear talking about you like I didn’t care.  Akira…how can I go on like this? I can’t fail, not now – I’ve sacrificed too much, I’ve hurt too many people I never wanted to hurt, now I’ve even lost the only person who showed me true kindness and it’s my own fault…! If I fail now, the man who ordered all this will never come to justice – worse, all these horrible things he ordered me to do will become true victories for him! But I can barely keep up the act that’s gotten me this far…Aki, what do I do? How do I finish this? How do I make sure you didn’t die in vain?

Futaba just stared at me for several seconds in silence, then asked me, “Was that…Akechi?” 

I just nodded. I was a little too rattled to talk after that one.

“This isn’t the first time he’s left you a message like this, is it?”

I shook my head. She said nothing – just immediately began texting everyone else to tell them that I’d been getting these calls. The next day, she had me let everyone listen to the voicemails as part of the mission briefing. I just sat there in silence, with my head in my hands, while everyone debated over what his true intentions were...I didn’t even know what to say. But everyone left knowing what I’d known all along – that there was way more to him than what he showed on TV, or what he showed while acting as Shido’s agent.

And, of course, the voicemails didn’t stop there.

December 2, 16:22:

People say that time heals all wounds…but how long does this kind take? I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself for letting you get caught up in this. How could I have used you like this? Why couldn’t I find another way? I’m sorry, Akira, I’m so sorry – how many times must I apologize to make something happen? No…what do I even expect? I can apologize until my voice runs dry and I know you won’t come back. I can’t forgive myself because you’re gone. Yet still I feel compelled to call you like this and tell you again, and again, and again – I’m sorry.

December 2, 23:47:

Please come back, Akira…please come back! I can’t do this, please, give me a miracle, please just come back!

 December 3, 01:13:

I don’t really have anything to say this time; I just needed to call so I could hear your voice on that recording again. It’s been a bad night, since I realized it was December already – it was barely over a month ago that I thought I was going to have my first Christmas date this year. I was trying to figure out the perfect gift for you, and everything – I can’t believe I was naïve enough to think I could have such a thing. Still, this isn’t what I imagined would get in the way of that plan. …oh, there I go, rambling as always…I guess I said a lot for someone with nothing to say, didn’t I?

December 3, 02:36:

I’ve decided, I’m still going to get you a gift. But…where should I send it? Should I leave it at Leblanc? I feel like I can’t go there anymore…but maybe I can stand to send it anonymously. No one but you needs to know it’s from me, right? I don’t want to intrude on anyone else’s mourning process…especially not when everyone else has so much more right to it than I do.

December 3, 17:29:

Honestly, Akira…why? Why were you so kind to me? What were you hoping to accomplish? You knew, you had to know – from our first serious conversation, you had to know there was no way this could have worked. What did you want? Why…why did you do this to me!? Why did you make me love you!?

December 4, 18:10:

I’m scared. I’m so scared. He’s going to realize I’m not taking this well if I have to cancel another appearance, and when he realizes that, he’ll realize I’m not the loyal lap dog he thinks I am…! Of all people, why did it have to be you!? Why!?

December 5, 03:23:

Has your family been notified yet? Have they decided where you’re going to be buried? Would you...would you even want me to visit you? If I left you an offering, would you accept it? I wouldn’t blame you if the answer is no.

December 5, 17:31:

How many of these messages have I sent? I suppose it doesn’t matter…I get to hear your voice again. It may be only a short recording, but it’s one of the best things I have. This recording, and the toys you bought for me during our time together…they keep me as close to functional as I can be. At least, I think they do. The worst thing is…the longer this goes on, the less energy I have to focus on that final moment, and the more I remember when we were happy together…you would think this would hurt less, but it’s making me realize…for all I say I won’t blame you if you hate me, you never had it in you to hate me, did you? You wouldn’t hate me if I were here right now, would you? And…why wouldn’t you!? I’ve earned that hatred, haven’t I!? I killed you! I killed you and I laughed – and if my knowledge of you is correct, you still wouldn’t hate me!? Why not!? I hate me for this! You…you were truly unbelievable.

December 6, 04:03:

I hate you for making me love you.

December 6, 15:51:

That kindness you showed me was the cruelest thing anyone has ever done to me. Why do you have to haunt me like this!? How could you – were you just trying to make me back down!? Was that your angle!? It hurts…it hurts so much, Akira…! How could you do this to me…!?

And that was the last message he sent. My phone went silent for several days. I was worried sick, when he left it on that note. I was afraid he’d gone and done something horrible to himself. And yet…even leaving it on that note, I wasn’t prepared for what happened when we met again in the Metaverse.