#i want so badly to wish you a happy birthday directly but i’m not supposed to reach out first

[thebutchprinxe]

the way my body kept me awake till six in the morning

[from-a-reckless-writer]

38 Supercorp

"Fuck fuck fuckity fuck," Lena angrily chanted under her breath, hands clenched tight around the steering wheel as she slowed down. The officer behind her had thankfully silenced their sirens at the first sign that Lena was pulling up.

She forced herself to take deep breaths and calm her anger from explosive to just simmering below the surface. She really doesn't need this shit today.

The motorcycle pulled up next to her, if Lena played her cards right she could get out of this without giving up her license. She chanced a glance at her mirror, good thing she decided to wear a low-cut blouse. She's not above using her...assets if it meant getting out of this quicker.

The officer kicks down their stand and swings off. Lena collects herself, checks if her lipstick remains immaculate, she's played this game with enough business men before what's the difference with a police officer?

The difference, it turns out, is that the police officer happens to be a woman.

A gorgeous, blonde woman that made Lena choke on her own saliva, when she took off her helmet only to reveal deliciously perfect bone structure and luscious blonde hair flowed down her shoulders. It was like Lena was watching those pretentious shampoo commercials in real time, the only thing missing was a slow-mo effect.

Said gorgeous, attractive, beautiful--Lena needs more synonyms--knocks lightly on her window and Lena has to rub her three functioning brain cells in order to lower her window.

"Ma'am."

Oh, fuck her eyes are so blue.

"Ma'am."

Will I get more than just a fine if I invite her to my place?

"Ma'am."

Wait- Why drive back when we can do it here in the car? She looks like the car sex type, doesn't she?

"Excuse me, ma'am? Do I have your attention?"

Lena remembers a conversation needs a response from both parties if it wants to exist.

She snaps herself out of it--with the utmost effort, mind you--and clears her throat.

"Hi, officer."

Hi, officer? Hi, officer. What are you? A drunk bachelorette?!?

Lena fights the urge to bang her head on her steering wheel and tries to pay attention to the words coming out of the blonde's lips and not on how she's got the perfect Cupid's bow and what would it taste like pressed to hers?

She catches, "-license,", "-your fine." and at least three more Ma'am's.

Danvers, K.Z. She takes an important mental note.

"Ma'am your license please???"

"Oh. Oh yes. Yes. Right."

God, if she says please and ma'am one more time I'm going to commit a much bigger crime.

Lena fumbles for her purse, almost ripping open the zipper in her haste.

"Here, officer." She thrusts the card out of the window, wishing the blonde's hands would graze hers in the process.

"You can get your license back at the main office on Monday, ma'am. Considering it's the weekend today," she says absentmindedly, scribbling Lena a ticket.

"May I know the reason for your over-speeding ma'am?"

Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck uhm uhm-

"Oh, uhm, I didn't want to be late for my daughter's birthday."

WHAT THE FUCk?

"Oh. A birthday huh?" The blonde breaks into a grin so bright it lights up Lena's entire useless empty lesbian soul.

The blonde much to Lena's gay panic, pokes her head in and looks at the assortment of gifts in her backseat.

"Looks like a lucky girl. You must be a great mom."

Okay, so what if she didn't know what Ruby wanted for her birthday and got her everything that Lena thinks a thirteen year-old wants? And so what if she used her goddaughter as an excuse, sue her, at least she got treated to this officer's smile right?

"Thank you. She's 13 today. Didn't know what she wanted so I uh- got everything..." she gestures weakly to the gifts.

"Well, I'm sure you're going to make her happy today."

Yeah, I'm also sure you can make me very, very happy, officer.

"Mm-hm. Yes, that's the goal."

"Well, I won't keep you any longer."

Oh no please you can keep me as long as you like.

"Just don't speed again next time, alright ma'am? Tell your girl I wish her a happy birthday."

Lena stays there seated like an idiot as her eyes remains glued to the officer's err, backside while she walks away and mounts her bike again.

God, what I wouldn't give for me to mount her instead.

She gives Lena a small salute goodbye that was not supposed to be as hot as it is, before fitting her helmet and making the bike roar to life.

Lena remains stationary for a few moments, replaying the whole exchange in her head again and again. Before getting shocked into the present by her phone's shrill ringing.

Sam's face lights up the screen.

Shit, Sam's gonna kill me.

******

Sam doesn't kill her, at least not directly.

She does make her heart stop though.

"Lena!" Sam greets. "Finally! Ruby's waiting for you. Here let me take these. I have somebody I want to introduce to you."

Sam grabs the gifts from her arms and doesn't even bat an eye at the number of it all. She's learned not to fight Lena when it comes to spoiling Ruby. The house is decked in streamers and confetti. Outside, you can hear the high-pitched giggling of teenage girls.

Sam drags her out into the garden where the real party is.

"Sorry, I'm late. I got held up by-"

Lena's entire being freezes. Her sentence remains broken.

"Ma'am? I mean Ms. Luthor? I mean Le-wait your Ruby's other mom?"

"Kara! This is Le- other mom? Wait what? Do you two know each other?"

"Ruby's got another mom?"

"OH MY GOD, YOU'RE FINALLY HERE!!!!"

Everything happens so fast, suddenly officer--named Kara, apparently--is standing there in Sam's garden, Kara is saying something. And then Sam is also saying something and then a red-head that Lena has no idea who the hell is, is also talking and before Lena could even process a single thing, she gets tackled by a thirteen year-old.

"Happy Birthday, Ruby," She manages to squeeze out as Ruby knocks the breath out of her. In the distance she can hear Sam go, "Ruby! Careful!"

"Your gifts are in the living room," she whispers in her ear and then Ruby is off dashing, with nothing but a yell of "Thanks Aunt Lena!!" into the wind.

And now, Lena is faced with the reality of being introduced to the officer she's been drooling over.

"Okay, so let me clear this up. You got pulled up, by Kara here," Sam shakes Kara, who she's got under her shoulder. "For overspeeding because, and I quote, 'You were late for your daughter's birthday'??? Did I get that right??"

"Uh yes, that pretty much sums it up," Kara mumbles, staring straight at Lena.

Sam's got a knowing look on her face that Lena wants so badly to slap out of her.

"Interesting." Sam smirks at her. "Daughter huh?"

"Oh my god, stop it. I only said it so she'd let me go faster," Lena bursts out. "Technically, I am Ruby's other mom. I'm the honorary cool mom."

She really wishes her face isn't as red as she feels it is.

"No, you're the godmother and I'm the cool mom," Sam says smoothly. "But, before we get off topic, this is Alex and this is her sister, Kara."

Lena has heard all about Alex, dashing FBI agent and Sam's recent object of affection. What she hasn't heard about is, Alex's younger, more gorgeous and Lena hopes not straight sister.

"Hi, good to meet you, Lena." Alex gives her a firm grip which she returns with a smile.

"Hi," Kara says shyly, turning to her, she's wearing glasses and it's such a far cry from the person Lena's met on the road. This version is softer, somewhat warmer.

The blatant difference doesn't really deter Lena's want to climb her like a tree, though.

"Hi," Lena parrots back, holding out a hand. Kara takes it so gently and Lena feels like she's going to pass out when the warmth of Kara's hand envelops her.

She's blushing from her head to toe and she doesn't really care if Sam--or Kara for that matter--sees notices.

"How come I got here faster than you did?"

Well, that's because I had to spend at least 15 minutes on the side of the road trying to calm my breathing, trying to flush out the fantasies in my head and wow you're really gorgeous, has anybody told you that?

Lena settles with, "Ah, well, motorcycles are faster than cars I guess."

Kara gives her that smile again and Lena feels her face breaking into one too.

"Well, doesn't matter. I'm just real glad you're here now, Lena."

"Me too, Kara, me too."

prompt list here

[shinydelirium]

Kiro’s 2021 Childhood Bday  R&S Translation [CN]

***THIS POST CONTAINS CONTENT THAT HAS NOT BEEN RELEASED YET ON EN SERVER!!! DO NOT READ IF YOU WANT TO AVOID SPOILERS***

This is a translation from Kiro’s 2021 childhood birthday story released on CN server. I do not know any Chinese so this was done through Google Translate. I apologize for any errors or mistranslations. Without further ado, please continue on reading!!! :) 

***WARNING: ANGST!!! THIS IS SUPPOSE TO BE A HAPPY DAY FOR KIRO!!! FIRST IT WAS S2 CH12 AND NOW THIS!?!?! WTH, PAPERGAMES!?!?!***

[Chapter 1]: Child Star’s Birthday

7:50 am California

After Kiro ran to the classroom and sat down, he laid his head directly on the table. “You can sleep for another ten minutes.” He whispered to himself in his heart.

He is too sleepy.

Ten hours ago, he finished the last set of filming, returned from the studio to the house the company set up for him in California, and then caught up on all the missing courses and homework. It was already 3 o’clock in the morning.

As if on cue, his stomach growled and Kiro lay helplessly on the table.  

Since his debut, he has become more or less accustomed to the professionalism of being a “star” but at this time his stomach seems to be persistently singing against him. Kiro hesitated for a moment and then opened a pack of soda five minutes later.

Sweetness hits the tip of his tongue and brings a sense of satisfaction to his brain. He finally breathed a sigh of relief, put on his headphones and closed his eyes.  

This is the first time in a while he has taken a break in the past few days.  

Kiro took a deep breath quietly and buried his face deeper into his arms.

But he could still feel the gazes around him looking at him and the innocent discussions. Even the moment he walked into the classroom and sat down, the air was still for half a second.

He doesn’t like this kind of “special treatment” nor does he like how he is always affected by it.

Over the years, he thought that he should be used to being watched constantly, and perhaps he had to bear the pressure from other peers. But sure enough, in fact, there are still many times that he will be a little breathless.  

Like now.  

As a child star, there were two to three days a week that he where he would be absent from school. For Kiro, his classmates are indeed some distance away. Because of his repeated absence, the- so-called disparity was expected.  

The reasons are not so complicated in the eyes of the children. At this age, the feeling of distance is often more sensitive than adults.  

He also wants to try his best to build a good relationship with them. After all, having friends is a very happy thing.  

As if he had finally made up his mind, Kiro took a deep breath, smoothed down messy hair, and raised his smiling face along with his shining blue eyes.

“Good morning, everyone, long time no see!” No one could possibly refuse such a warm and sincere greeting, let alone Kiro.  

Even though some shy classmates nodded their heads and smiled with furtive gazes, the greeting initiated by Kiro still received many responses. Soon, a small circle formed around him. Everyone scrambled to ask which crew he went to during the period of “his absence”, which big star he saw, and what new information he gathered.

Suddenly, a boy with curly hair, leaned in and patted Kiro on the shoulder with great enthusiasm.

“Kiro! Happy birthday!”

As his high voice rang out, the children who got together cheered in unison.  

“They are all embarrassed to come and tell you, so I said it! Happy birthday, future star.”

Kiro was taken aback.

“Thank you.”

Almost a subconscious reply.

But in that small world that only belonged to Kiro, another voice sounded different from what he was doing at this time.

“So, today is my birthday.”

[Chapter 2]: A Heart to Live Up To

“Kiro, great, you haven’t left yet!”  

The lingering sound of the bell was still echoing. Kiro had just cleaned up and wanted to seize the rare free time to make up for a good night’s sleep, when he was suddenly stopped by the instructor who had rushed over. He excitedly grabbed Kiro’s hands, looking very surprised.

“Teacher, are you looking for me?”

“Yeah....” The teacher didn’t seem to know how to begin. Kiro responded sensibly, leading the question back at the end of the dialogue.

“If there is anything I need to do, you can just say it directly.”

After hearing this, the teacher nodded in relief, as if he had waited for a long time and quickly told the whole story.  

Kiro understood what was going on.  

It turned out that there was a very important violin competition for high school students today and the classmate of the classical music department who represented the school had a temporary accident and was unable to participate. He wanted Kiro to help fill in.

“...Okay, I will try my best. Thank you, teacher, for believing in me.”

Even though he was tired, he did not refuse this sudden request.

It’s not that he isn’t interested in the competition, nor is he absolutely confident in his skills, it’s just...

He hopes that he is perfect enough in the eyes of the teacher.

After all, at this critical time, the teacher thought of him and believed in him, and he must not fail this trust.

Thinking about this, Kiro clenched his teeth, swallowed a yawn that was ready to come out, and forced himself to wake up. After the teacher went back to the residence to fetch his violin, he hurried to the scene of the competition.

The site was set up in the observation deck of a building and under the transparent glass plank pathway, it is a panoramic view of the entire city.  

At the time of arrival, many contestants were already busy making preparations. Kiro’s appearance undoubtedly caused quite a stir. The teacher proudly met the gazes and protected Kiro through the crowd to their waiting area.

Kiro quickly entered the waiting area. He opened the violin bag, skillfully tightened the bow, wiped the rosin, set the violin on his shoulder, and tuned the pegs carefully and intently.  

Now that he is here, he must do his best. He cheered himself up and walked in the direction where he was ready to take the stage.

“Don’t worry, he is a little star. Even if he doesn’t do well, he has publicity and won’t make the school lose too badly.”

The voice in the corner made Kiro stop.

He didn’t listen. It seemed that there was another voice arguing with him, but that was not important. Kiro just returned to the waiting area quietly, waiting for the announcement from the competition organizer. He just lowered his head and stood there quietly.

At this time a man came over. He patted Kiro’s shoulder lightly and said mysteriously.

“Kiro, this is the first time we’ve met. I am a teacher in the classical music department.” He lowered his voice, “Actually, I don’t really like the format of music competitions. Music should be something to enjoy and convey emotions, not some sort of boring game. So don’t think of it as a competition, but as a special show. I’m looking forward to hearing the music you play. I heard that you play the violin very well. This is the first time I will hear your music.

After that, he mischievously gave Kiro a big pat on the back. *Took some liberties here with the translation*  

Kiro stared at this somewhat holistic man and did not speak for a long time. A similar and familiar feeling came out of him.  

The broadcast system called Kiro’s name.

“Don’t think about anything, just let the world hear your voice.”

[Chapter 3]: Happy Birthday Song

The competition ended smoothly.

Kiro didn’t remember the process of his performance. He only remembered the way the classical music department teacher exaggeratedly raised his hands to applaud him when he left the competition. His eyes were full of real and undisguised recognition and praise.

At the end of the competition, he politely declined the kindness of the teachers and left alone.  

The California coast is like spring all year round and the fresh air is filled with a faint smell of saltwater. Kiro walked, suddenly a little at a loss.  

For a moment he didn’t know where he should go or where he could go. He just carried his violin bag and walked alone on the streets of California aimlessly.  

Until he passed by a family restaurant.

Such restaurants are very common in California. People choose outdoor dining areas to enjoy their food with nature.

As far as Kiro’s line of sight could see, a family sat around the table warmly. There are grandparents, parents, and even uncles and aunts. And the main star of this family banquet is obviously the little girl sitting in the middle wearing a birthday hat.

She sat happily in the center, closing her eyes in front of a huge cake.  

Everyone’s face was filled with the look of joy as they watched her patiently and earnestly. No one interrupted the most solemn “ceremony” at this time.  

The little girl closed her eyes for a long, long time. Maybe she had a lot of wishes that she wants to come true or maybe she is carefully telling some wish that she wants to come true the most.  

After all, in the eyes of a child, the more important the wish, the more carefully it will be heard and realized.  

Kiro stood there and looked at the little girl’s face quietly. He didn’t know what he was feeling right now. It seemed that something he wanted to show was turning upwards along his heart, as if he would shed tears in the next second.  

He just stood there silently, watching her finally make her wish, blowing out the candles while her family sang “happy birthday.” Grabbing the balloons in her hand, the girl ran around in the open space, spinning her little skirt.  

Then she saw Kiro and ran towards him happily without knowing what she was thinking.

“Prince!” She waved her little hand at Kiro and said loudly. Kiro was stunned. The little girl ran up to him and raised her head, “His Royal Highness, are you here to wish me a happy birthday, too?”

Kiro thought for a while, crouched down and touched the little girl’s head, “Although I am not a prince, I wish you a happy birthday!”

The little girl didn’t seem to understand what he meant. She carefully picked out a yellow one from her balloon stash and gave it to Kiro.  

“Thank you for wishing me happiness, and I wish you happiness too. This is for you.”

The little girl happily ran back to her seat after speaking with him and the whole family nodded politely to him, seeming to express gratitude.  

Kiro looked at the yellow balloon in his hand and walked away slowly.

He was walking on the road, the sun a little dazzling, the balloon floating gently while he hummed quietly.

“Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me~”

At this time, his phone chimed, alerting him to an email.

[Chapter 4]: Special Birthday Gift

It is an email from KEY.

Since he came to the United States, KEY has always liked to use this “fun” way to keep in touch with him in addition to the phone.

Kiro sat on the roadside steps, “If my agent sees me like this, he will definitely be angry.”

Kiro thought about it leisurely but didn’t have any plans to get up.

“Today is my birthday, so I call the shots!” *Took some liberties here*

First, he simply replied to the fan messages wishing him a happy birthday on social media and then concentrated on deciphering KEY’s information. It is a very interesting little program. The code attached to the email can be directly written to change the content of the email.  

Kiro has always been happy with this special design. Under his operation, the information was quickly decoded.

“The place where you stay most often.”

Kiro read it out gently, and there was a pair of combined numbers at the same time.  

He raised his head, as if thinking of something.

The dance studio was deserted at this time.

This was the exclusive training room given to him by the company. Kiro took out the key and walked in gently in the same way as he had been in class.  

This is a special place for him.

The sun in the afternoon was particularly brilliant, flowing into the entire classroom through the floor-to-ceiling windows, which looked clean and sparkling. Kiro stood in front of a small cabinet in the dance studio.

He felt like an ordinary child at this moment, being guided to find the answer in the way he was most interested in. He was a little happy when he thought of this.  

Kiro cautiously opened the cabinet and found a box inside. He took it out, and after opening it, it turned out to be an exquisite violin.

The little violin along with the sunlight filtering down onto the light brown amber, reflected in his eyes, as if it was shining.

At this time, the second email came. It was simple and there was no need for decoding.

“Happy birthday.” He seemed to hear KEY saying this to him.

Kiro couldn’t help thinking, when did KEY hide it here?

As if responding to his question, footsteps came from outside the door. Kiro’s heart beat a little fast, and he suddenly wondered if there would be another gift.

He opened the door in surprise, and an unceremonious man greeted him.

The man didn’t even take off his shoes. The exquisite black leather shoes stepped on the smooth floor, looking particularly dazzling.

Kiro felt his fingertips instantly chill, and he clenched his hands hard to keep his body from shaking.

“I really don’t know why I’m responsible for this kid.” The man gave him a look of disgust, “I won’t talk too much nonsense with you.”

“The higher ups are very dissatisfied with you.” Each word struck Kiro’s heart, “Don’t forget why you want to become a star.”

“In one month’s time,” he threw a document on the ground, “Finish it.”

“I don’t know what you have to look forward to.” The man walked in front of him to the center of the floor. Kiro lowered his head, and there were only footprints left in his field of vision that seemed to have been dyed black with thick ink, step by step, on a clean floor.

It seems that no matter how hard he tried, he can’t wipe off that trace.

“3684.” The man impatiently left his last words, “Don’t be too self-righteous. You really think you are worth something?”

[Chapter 5]: Things You Want To Protect

In the empty dance studio, the operating sound of the air humidifier hummed quietly.

Kiro didn’t know how long he had been standing there until the tingling sensation rushed to his legs and he instinctively moved forward slightly.

The towel and hairband hanging on the side of the cabinet came into view and he strode forward suddenly and threw them to the ground fiercely. ***The towel and hairband mentioned here are what Kiro uses during dance practice to wipe off/absorb sweat***

The world swallowed his outburst silently but indifferently, making him at this moment seem small and lonely.

In the end, he dragged his numb body and walked tiredly to the towel and hairband, as if all his strength had been drained and slowly knelt on the floor.

Just like the day when he first picked them.

Kiro stretched out his hand, slowly picked up the towel and hair band, and carefully hugged them in his arms. They were his only close friends, walking side by side. They were proof of his hard work. But if these proofs can be trampled so easily, then what was all his effort for?”

The edges of the cotton towel and hairbands were slightly deformed due to their repeated use. He swiped hard, remembering that he had almost thrown them away because of being used so many times.

And whenever he was about to throw them in the trash can, the soft texture in his hands was always quietly hot at that moment.

It seemed to be telling him, “Wait a minute. Hold on.”

It’s as if they were reminding him they were made in order to continued to be used.

He once heard others say that life will find a way out.

“Is this the way you worked hard to find?”

He stood foolishly in front of the trash can, looking at the towel and hairbands in his hands, muttering to himself.

Then he would stand there, talking endlessly for a while.  

He thought that music was the way out for his life that was once empty.

It seemed that in the darkness where he still was, a gleaming light suddenly broke in. In that world, he can always shine with golden light and light up his life forever.

He can see himself.

But if he can’t maintain this purity, is he still worthy to live in this world that once taught him to redeem?

No.

Kiro raised his head and looked at himself in the mirror.

That world may be impure, but his dream is real, and his love is real. This was what he wanted to do as Kiro, and it was the only way out.

He is Kiro. Not 3684.

He rubbed the hair band firmly, then raised his hand to tie it on his head and smiled at himself in the mirror with encouragement and humbleness as he did before each practice.

“Today’s 2-hour dance training has not been completed yet.”

A dynamic rhythm sounded in the studio and the sound of footsteps rubbing on the floor resounded one after another. Kiro was practicing hard while telling himself in his heart.  

“This is just another ordinary day, tomorrow will only be better.”

Two hours later, he turned off the music, bent over gasping, and abnormally did not stand up for a long, long time.

Finally, for what seemed like ages, he slowly straightened up, took out the violin from the bag on the floor, and sat by the window. The dark brown violin was lined with soft light under the sun and he held it as if being embraced.

“I will definitely protect you.”

Kiro’s eyes were soft, and his tone was gentle and firm.

The birds outside the window chirped and landed freely on the edge of the window.

“It’s great that you are free.”

Kiro smiled and gently extended his fingertips.  

“I will be free too.”

[Chapter 6]: Free Sailing

A telephone ring broke the silence of the studio.

Kiro looked down at the phone. It was an unfamiliar number. Maybe it was from a fan somewhere, but he picked it up in a ghostly manner.

“Hello, this is PLANET Yacht Club, what can I do for you?”

Kiro was stunned. The person at the other end waited patiently for his silence. After a long time, he remembered that when he was resting on the sidewalk a while ago, he accidentally saw a magazine ad about yachts. He made a phone consultation.

However, because he needed to go to pratice immediately he asked the other party to contact him afterwards.  

Unexpectedly, it happened to be today.

“I have read your information. I have some interest in your yachts. How can I learn more about it?”

“If this is the case, you can visit our terminal directly. On which day would you like to make an appointment?”

“Is today okay?”

When Kiro said it, he was also stunned. He felt his heart beating, but he didn’t know what this feeling represented.

“Of course, we will send the address to your phone later, looking forward to your visit.”

When Kiro saw that yacht, he decided to buy it.

It was lying quietly in the corner of the entire pier, unremarkable, but in the light of the surging tide, it instantly attracted Kiro’s eyes.

Of course, the salesman saw the young boy coming to the club, obviously looking a little bit awkward and seemed to be thinking about how to politely ask him to leave.

“I want that yacht.”

Kiro didn’t leave the yacht’s sight and took out his bank card in the salesman’s dumbfounded gaze.

The boat was moored by a small harbor where there was a little old port. This was the place he saw on the way to the club.

He asked the people of the club to help him get the boat here and said that in a few days, he would come again to ask about how to operate the yacht.

It was dusk now and there were no people, only him and his boat, listening to the ebb and flow together.

The half-round sunset has fallen below the sea level. The sun is golden and far away, warmly embracing the whole world.

The yacht hasn’t been decorated yet and looks a bit simple, but Kiro doesn’t care. He feels that he has seen the future of the ship.

This is his boat, he repeats this in his heart over and over, and in the future, there will be someone who is most special to him in this world who will share it with him.

Think of it as a birthday present for yourself even though there is no cake and no birthday song today.

But this is also good.

Kiro was lying on the small deck, seagulls flying non-stop. The sky was divided into half blue and half-yellow. The boat rose and fell with the tide. He opened his arms as if he could touch the sky.

Kiro suddenly felt that he could go anywhere.

Nothing can stop him.

[End]

[wangxiangiftexchange]

Winter Solstice Gift for sweetlittlevampire

Happy exchange to @sweetlittlevampire! You have no idea how much pressure I felt when I realized I was tasked with putting together your gift - your art is always so beautiful and detailed! I hope this checks the boxes for you: I aimed at driving home 'non-sexual intimacy' and 'found family', with lots of heavy fluff tones. Enjoy!

A quick note: because I have next to no familiarity with Chinese culture, either modern or ancient, I have set this story in modern North America. This means the wedding planning and cultural references adhere to North American styles.

Read on AO3

*****

The Award for Best Man

It’s an unusual time of day to be this exhausted, even by Lan Wangji’s supposedly early sleep schedule. The sun hasn’t finished climbing the sky yet and Lan Wangji can’t think of a single thing he’d rather be doing with a rare day off than this:

He and Wei Ying are together, lumped in the vertex of their L-shaped couch which sits directly in the morning sun. They have the apartment to themselves today, until this evening, when A-Yuan and Wen-popo will return their rabbits from babysitting. Wei Ying was still convinced that Bichen and Suibian would have been absolutely fine with them gone all yesterday to tour wedding venues; Lan Wangji had insisted they not be lonely.

Now he wonders if he subconsciously had the foresight to rid himself of anything that could have distracted him from an exhausted Wei Ying. He becomes so sweet and pliable when he’s tired, needy only for Lan Wangji’s affection and attention. It’s one of the only times Wei Ying lies still.

Usually.

Out of nowhere, Wei Ying springs out of his lap to sit upright on the couch. He must not be as tired as Lan Wangji thought.

“I just realized –” he says, turning back to Lan Wangji with a striking look of alarm on his face. “I can’t ask you to be my best man. Lan Zhan! You’ve ruined my wedding plans!”

Lan Wangji blinks, a little surprised. ‘Ruined’ seems a touch dramatic – if anything, he thinks recasting his role as ‘bridegroom’ is an upgrade over ‘best man’.

But because he’s tired too, his only response is: “Me?”

“Yes, you! Silly. What did you think I was gonna do? Get married at an altar where you weren’t there beside me and, wow, oh my god, that seems too revealing now that I say it out loud.”

Lan Wangji’s heart glows and he tucks a loose hair from Wei Ying’s face. The gesture makes them both smile. “I pictured you, too.”

“Aawww!! You did??” Wei Ying’s cheeks are flushing and his eyes are tearing up, but Lan Wangji is 85% sure it’s for dramatic effect. “Wait, like, always or...?”

Lan Wangji boops his nose, a private joke between them for every time he deems Wei Ying to be ‘nosy’. He knows it used to be a gesture exclusive to Jiang Yanli, his future sister, and every time Wei Ying lets him get away with it, bubbles simmer in his chest.

“Since Gusu,” he admits.

“Gusu Elementary?! Lan Zhan, you flirt! We were twelve! I waited until at least Qishan High to fall madly in love with you.” Assured, as he always is after successfully fishing for flattery, Wei Ying starts settling back into his sprawl inside Lan Wangji’s arms. “Ugh, remember Wen Chao, the principal’s kid? He’s a dad now. Facebook told me earlier.”

He isn’t pleased to have the memory of such a vile personality sour their cuddle time. He shifts, gathers Wei Ying closer, and switches the topic. “What about Jiang Wanyin?”

Wei Ying startles up again, though not all the way out of his arms, eyes wide with anxiety. “What about Jiang Cheng. Lan Zhan. Do you know something I don’t? When did Jiang Cheng get a kid – where did Jiang Cheng get a kid?! I KNOW Wen Qing has an IUD!”

Ah. He sees the problem now. “For your best man,” he explains, coaxing his fiancé back down. It marvels him how much one can struggle to relax.

“Oh, thank god,” Wei Ying says, slumping back into the pillow that is his betrothed before smacking a sweatered pec. “You worried me! We’ve both seen how A-Cheng is with Jin Ling, I shudder to think how he’ll be with his own.” He really does shudder, from his head down the base of his spine. Then he fidgets, rolling up his hands in the folds of Lan Wangji’s minty blue sweater. “But yeah, I suppose he’ll do for a best man. I’ll never hear the end of it if I ask Wen Ning over him.”

He sends a grin up at Lan Wangji, happily sharing the mental image of Jiang Cheng blowing a fuse. It’s a thought that never fails to tickle him.

“What about you?” Wei Ying asks. “I assume you’ll ask your brother but isn’t he still in the arctic?”

He was. Three weeks ago, a Waterborne Abyss had somehow broken loose from the ocean floor and wound up on the surface of the Pacific Ocean. When Xichen had first gone to cleanse it, it escaped the pre-set array and fled. Xichen had been tasked to pursue and had chased the demon around the north pole for nearly eight days now with scarcely a word of update.  

Lan Wangji doesn’t like worrying about his brother. Luckily, it’s an even rarer occurrence than a truly exhausted Wei Ying.

Still...

“Mm...”

Wei Ying cuddles closer. “Ahhh, don’t worry too much, Lan Zhan, he’ll be back before you know it. He certainly won’t let some puny abyssal keep him from his didi’s wedding! I can’t wait to see him cry actual tears, I’m going to bribe Mianmian to take so many pictures.”

Lan Wangji flushes a little. He loves his brother and he knows Xichen loves him, but they never make a show of it in public. He suspects Wei Ying is correct in thinking their wedding will be an exception. Xichen has requested time to make a toast, after all.

“Hey, not to jinx it or anything, but who would you have as a best man if Lan Xichen couldn’t be? Not for a sad reason! Like, uhhh, say his wedding was on the same day, at the same time as ours. Yeah, that works.”

Lan Wangji raises an eyebrow. “Who is he marrying?”

Wei Ying’s smile goes crooked to match his brow, bemused as he is every time Lan Wangji indulges in these kinds of playful hypotheticals. “Does it matter?”

“Indubitably.”

Wei Ying laughs so hard he snorts. He is so exquisitely beautiful. “Well, if my future husband insists, I’ll paint you the whole picture. Um. Let’s say he marries... Jin Guangyao.”

Lan Wangji hums, a little put-off by the idea. It’s nothing against Jin Guangyao as a person, but he’s always been singularly difficult for Lan Wangji to read. All his favourite people – Xichen, Mingjue, Jiang Yanli, and of course Wei Ying – don’t make their thoughts or feelings hidden the way Jin Guangyao does. It leaves Lan Wangji with a very unstable opinion of the man – more than once he has badly misread a situation and felt insecure about the cues he must have missed.

Not to mention the history the man has with Wei Ying. They never talk about it, and Lan Wangji has never pried, but he knows the two were close friends as children before something fell apart between them. Wei Ying still sends a birthday wish to Jin Guangyao every year, in part because he always receives a card on his own. The card always includes a sheet of red stickers – anything red: anatomic hearts, parrots, chilli peppers, firetrucks, Santa hats, and ladybugs. Lan Wangji has never asked why he sends them or what Wei Ying does with them. It’s enough of an intrusion to watch that wistful smile play out.

“Mingjue,” he answers, refocusing on their game. “To spare the heartache.”

Wei Ying nods appreciatively at his wisdom. “Yes, yes, I agree. He’d cry, get sappy drunk, and trash the cake just to be a torturous mess at a Xiyao wedding, wouldn’t he? Best have him at ours, where he’ll cry, get sappy drunk, and sing all the worst love songs at karaoke with Nie Huaisang.”

“‘Come What May’,” Lan Wangji suggests, to Wei Ying’s delight.

“Justin Bieber’s ‘Baby’!”

“‘Your Song’.”

Wei Ying’s smile turns sweet. He nuzzles into Lan Wangji’s chest and mutters quietly, “I already have one of those.”

They fall into peaceful near-quiet for a minute, Wei Ying softly humming out the score Lan Wangji composed for him years ago when it was the only way he knew to publicly dedicate his heart. During the last measure, Wei Ying’s stomach growls and he loses himself giggling. Lan Wangji smiles, rubs his stomach for him and lightly shushes it, which makes Wei Ying laugh harder.

“Alright, alright,” he says, whipping out his phone from between the seat cushions. “Time for lunch! Sushi okay with you?”

Lan Wangji nods, sneaks in a quick peck to his forehead, and says, “Whatever you want.”

“Sweet-talker,” he chides, but a flash of teeth betrays his happiness. “What rolls do you want?”

He can’t help himself. “Volcano roll, seared salmon roll, and spicy tuna bowl, extra wasabi and spicy mayo.”

Wei Ying gives him the sweetest side-eye and Lan Wangji swears the next words past his lips will be ‘I love you’: “Then I’m ordering yam rolls, cucumber rolls, low sodium miso soup, and tamago nigiri with no wasabi whatsoever.”

He knew it.

He pulls his fiancé up into a kiss, chasing down that ‘I love you’ with his tongue, certain it must taste as good as it had sounded, maybe even better than it feels, right now, against his lips and zinging down his body like welding sparks.

Wei Ying looks absolutely dazed when he releases him. “Happy with that?” Wei Ying asks, referring to the rolls.

“Besotted,” Lan Wangji confesses, absolutely lost in this man.

“Damn right,” Wei Ying whispers, voice breathy with reciprocation. It’s another fifteen minutes of playing kiss tag before their stomachs overrule them and get their lunch order placed.

With nothing to do but wait the thirty-five minutes it will take for their delivery to be made, Wei Ying brings them back to their earlier game, before the kissing.

“So what if Lan Xichen was marrying Nie Mingjue? Who would be your best man, then?”

It’s a slightly harder question than the last. Since he can remember, Nie Mingjue has been a brother by proxy, which means Lan Wangji must consider best men that aren’t brothers. Surprisingly, a person comes to mind rather quickly.

“Jin Zixuan.”

Wei Ying may have fallen to the floor if Lan Wangji’s arms weren’t such a secure tether to the couch. “WHAT?! WHY? Don’t tell me you’ve become friends with that Peacock behind my back! Lan Zhan! Lan Zhan, how could you betray me like this!?”

Lan Wangji frowns. “We were already friends.”

Wei Ying scoffs, “You were not.”

“We had coffee last week.”

“YOU HAD COFFEE?!” Distressed, Wei Ying drops his head into Lan Wangji’s sweater, whining about the slew of injustice. “Unacceptable... already friends... didn’t even rub off on the peacock at all, stupid... without telling me , Lan Zhan... such betrayal, much scandal, wow...”

Despite the energetic upset, Lan Wangji feels a yawn against his chest. Wei Ying’s exhaustion is finally catching up to him. “There, there,” he comforts, patting his head.

“Mmmm...” mutters the mess of hair. “Feels good, keep doing that. It eases my betrayed and deceived heart.”

Wei Ying’s requests are never difficult to fulfill – this one, especially so. Lan Wangji lets his posture relax further, content to sit in the sleepy energy of Sunday. Wei Ying keeps purring against him, breaths slowing and lengthening. They’ll both sleep through the food delivery at this rate.

Lan Wangji adds a light scratch to his pets and says, “Take a nap, Wei Ying. I’ll wait for lunch.”

Wei Ying hums in disagreement. “You’ll get bored, Lan Zhan. Here...” He rouses himself enough to stretch for the coffee table and grabs Lan Wangji’s reading glasses and latest novel. “Read. I can prop it up for you, like an actual supportive fiancé.”

Lan Wangji chuckles under his breath as he unfolds his glasses. “You are undoubtedly the best fiancé.”

Wei Ying bats blindly at the hand that pets him. “Shush, you! I’m sleeping now.”

Later, when their stomachs are stuffed full of too much rice, Lan Wangji thinks he’ll request they return to the couch. This is a day full of rarities and he’s determined to savour every minute of this sleeply, perfect man that it will gift him.

[slxyangel]

Let The Tables Turn (Duff McKagan x Reader)

Summary: The narration of a story full of broken promises and strong hopes.

Wordcount: 4k.

Warnings: Alcohol abuse, probably the most angst I’ve ever written, insecurities, really dark and dramatic shit.

A/N: This was informally requested by @holyjunkie a while ago, and it has been stting in my drabbles for like a month now, but since today it’s Duff’s birthday I thought it was the perfect oportunity. I’m really proud of the result and I hope you all enjoy it so much, let me know your thoughts :)

REQUESTS ARE OPEN || ASK ME FOR TAGS

Masterlist: https://slxyangel.tumblr.com/post/189625800403/masterlist

Your leg bounced up and down from its place on the stall. Really, really fast; really, really angry. The anxiety being there provoked you wouldn't wear off in the slightest with such an insignificant action, but you couldn’t bring yourself to stop. What the fuck were you doing there anyway?

The air was thick, the lights were red and the music and voices didn’t even let you hear your own thoughts. Though maybe it was for the better, because what good could you draw from them in that very moment? The club was jam-packed with people, but you were alone, sitting right next to the bar and waiting for Duff to show up from somewhere in there, get his ass in your car and go back home with you. Because at least that was the plan. Going to the damn party for less than an hour, saying hi to everyone, going back home and, like he profusely promised, celebrating your birthday as the law commands.

Because yeah, your birthday had been four days before, but not only he hadn’t spent a single minute of the day with you, but he had been too busy doing God knows what to even call you and wish you, the girl he had been living with for five months and dating for a year and a half, a happy birthday. Nah, instead you had to spend the whole day with no news from him, pacing around and going to bed worried about something serious having happened to him, only to then, at four in the morning of a Tuesday, wake up to the noise of destroyed furniture and his little whines. When you went downstairs with a fucking baseball bat in your hand, just in case you had to smash a burglar’s skull, what you found made your heart sink down to underground levels. Duff was there, on the floor of the kitchen, lights off, eyes unfocused, and the broken table table at his feet.

He was drunk. But he was not just drunk, he was completely fucking wasted. He was so drunk he couldn’t even stand on his own and needed the help of the table. In fact, he was so drunk he wasn’t even able to hold on to the table properly, so he ended up throwing it down with him. You hadn’t seen him or heard from him since Sunday, and you had spent your whole 23rd birthday worried in case something awful had happened to him, only to end up kneeling in the floor of the bathroom, holding his hair and your tears back.

The problem was that, lately, Duff was not Duff. He wasn’t the sweet, caring boy that would show up one day with a box of gingerbread with raisins and your favourite movie from the videoclub just because, in one occasion, he had heard you say you used to have gingerbread with raisins for breakfast when you were little. Or the guy who called to your home for eight days in a row while you were on a roadtrip and dealt with your sister telling him you actually were on a roadtrip, until the ninth day it was finally you who picked up the phone. Not anymore. The past few months had turned him into this irritating, troubled man who only opened his mouth to complain about you being a fucking killjoy because you didn’t want to have sex with him after he drank seven shots of vodka. It was the alcohol what had made that out of him, and it awakened demons in you that you didn’t wanna have to face.

But you held on. You held on for him, you held on for the love of your life and for all the stories you had built with him, you held on because you still had faith. Even when he was the way he wasn’t supposed to be, you still saw in his eyes the flick of shine that had dragged you towards him in the first place. You loved him so much it physically hurted, and seeing him like that was ripping apart a side of you you didn’t know you could miss so badly.

And it’s not like you hadn’t had conversations about it, man, you fucking had them. When he was not drunk, he was still easy to talk to, and he reasoned. One of the few mornings he woke up in your bed and wasn’t recovering from a night out and its subsequent hangover, you took advantage and, almost scared of his reaction, addressed the issue. And he understood, and he told you you were right, and he apologized, and he cried, and he made love to you, and he promised to try. And he also promised to be there on your birthday for a fucking picnic or a movie night or having lunch together at McDonalds, you really could not care less about the choice, because what really made you happy was that he was going to try. So you trusted, and you held on. But what did you hold on for? A broken table, a broken promise and a broken heart.

He immediately knew he had fucked up. His eyes, even behind the mist of alcohol, unmistakably told you so. But you really didn’t have the strength to talk about it in that moment, that would have cracked you. So you bit your lip, you put him to bed, left a glass of water and a pill in case he woke up before you did, and curled up next to him to try and get some sleep before the conversation that was inevitably going to happen the next morning. But the next morning the glass was empty, the pill gone and his side of the bed cold. He had left. And you couldn’t fucking understand why he would do that, not after what happened the night before.

You didn’t hear from him for almost three days after that. Again. He didn’t call, he didn’t show up, nothing, and if it wasn’t for the fact that all his clothes were still in your wardrobe you would have thought that he had finally left for good. But on Thursday night he called you.

-Babe… -- In your side of the line he only found silence, but he dared and started talking -- I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I don’t deserve to even have the chance to tell you this, but I am so, so sorry.

You still didn’t answer. You couldn’t, you had lost your vocal chords. You wanted to yell, you wanted to rip off the phone cable, you wanted to smash his skull against a corner, you wanted to kick the pieces of the table that still were there because you hadn’t had the courage to throw them away, because you had the feeling that they meant something. But instead you could only bring yourself to ask him:

-Why didn’t you call?

The sound of your voice was little more than a fine thread, but you couldn’t risk it. You couldn’t speak louder because then your voice would break, and if your voice broke you would immediately follow. And that couldn’t happen, not with him at the other side of the phone.

-Because I was ashamed--the answer left you frozen--.I was ashamed and I am ashamed. I can’t look at myself in the mirror, because what I see makes me sick. And I don’t mean on the outside, it’s the inside what I am talking about. It’s what I’m becoming, it’s what I’ve become, and it’s what I have done to you and what I will still do to you if I keep on going down this path. I’m fucking scared, and I don’t know what to do, but I really, really want this to go away. And this thread of the conversation has to stop, I have to cut it here because this is not about me being a victim, that’s a narrative I won’t use. It’s about me owning up to what I did, because I made a terrible mistake, and presenting solutions, not diving in the problems. And that’s why I want to tell you that tomorrow there is a thing.--He made a pause, testing the fields, but he went on after your expected silence--It’s a small thing, for the band, in a bar. I really have to go, they require me to. But when the other day I said I wanted to make it better I meant it, and I mean it now, I want to make it better. So, if you want, if you trust me, which I wouldn’t expect you to but I would be extremely thankful for, you can come. We will be there for less than an hour, shake a few hands, sign a few autographs, and then get the hell out of the place. And you could also not come if you don’t want to, I can go directly home right after my strictly necessary time in there has passed, but I thought it could be a good idea to show you that I can do better. Like… at a party… not a single drop of booze, nothing. I really only want to be with you. And then we can go home and watch a movie or have an indoor picnic, or McDonalds or I can’t care less. And, if you want, we’re going to fix the table. Will… will you come?

The silence that followed his words filled the line with screams. Screams that asked for forgiveness. Screams that longed for redemption. Screams that fought against screams to see which one would become the loudest one. But the silence still pierced your ears.

-Okay.

Your mouth betrayed your brain before you even had the time to puzzle the consequences your answer would surely have. It was done, quiet and broken, but done. Then, you heard him say the word “Yeah?”, exactly like that, with a question mark, as if he wanted to make sure what he had heard was not him hallucinating, but an actual agreement of you giving him he billionth chance he knew he didn’t deserve but was willing to fight for. You could have backed off then, you could have unsaid your words, but you didn’t. Instead, you nodded, because the knot in your throat was so tight you couldn’t make a sound. But he sensed your nod, and the next thing you heard was a whispered “I love you” and a click he really didn’t want to make, but he knew he had to.

You slid down, with your back against the wall, until you reached the floor, and you cried the bitter tears that were flooding your eyes. You were tired, and if there was one thing you had no doubt about, it’s that you didn’t want more hopes, because your experience tended to always find new ways to tell you that hopes never end up well. But the heart has reasons that reason does not understand.

_______________________________

That was it. You had just about had it. Two hours fooling around alone in there were more than enough, and the wait for your hopes to crash down yet again was making you sick, so why make it longer. What had to happen was going to happen, whether you had come here or not, whether you wanted it or not. That night on the phone, on the floor, you hadn't been wrong, and your guts knew it all the time. You can't trust a drunk. Especially not one that has proven to always find a method for getting his way, because he is used to it and, if he has seen his ways work, why would he fucking change them? Even if those ways are lying, drinking, apologizing and repeating the circle, which is visibly wrong even to his eyes. He was not going to suppress one single step of the process if it always ended up in him not having to suppress one element of the resolution, those being you and booze cohabiting in his life. But he had to learn. And not for you, not only for you, but for himself. If his life revolved around getting away with his downfall by always finding the most particular excuses, what was going to happen in the future? When that practice was so intricately integrated  with his life that he no longer would be able to tell apart one thing from the other? That was definitely something you didn't want to experience with him and you weren't willing to put up with through the years, but that didn't mean the perspective of Duff ending up like that didn't break your heart. So if you had to be the first one who threw a bucket of ice-cold reality in his face, you would do it. 

You downed the only fucking shot you allowed yourself to have that night, because leaving a life behind took a courage you didn't think you had, and, for God's sake, he was the one who was not supposed to drink, not you. Then, you grabbed your purse, you stood up, put the sequins of Duff's favourite red dress in place and made your way out. You didn't even bother to look for him, you had tried to when you first arrived there, but it was unsuccessful. All that you got were condescendent looks from the staff as if you were a groupie and not a glimpse of his blond hair or any of his bandmates. And it's not like he didn't have it easy to find you, you had been sitting at the bar the whole evening. If he knew you were going to be there, which happened to be the case, he should have moved his ass and looked for you. But of course he was busy shaking hands and raising his elbow.

The fresh air of the night was relieving. It was November, but in downtown Los Angeles it was never really cold. You breathed in and breathed out just once, and started walking to your car. But a voice amongst them all made its way to your ears, clear as light and choking you as always. You stopped in your tracks.

Duff's hand held yours from behind, as if he wanted to stop you from taking a step you were not taking anymore. You were still, you didn't turn around, you were splitting in half. You were going to leave, you finally were, but he had to show up in the last fucking minute and ruin your power of will. Goddamn prick.

-Babe…--his voice was all but firm. He sounded scared but, if your ears didn’t deceive you... --I didn't know you were here. I… I haven't seen you.

He was sober. Now you turned around and faced the cause of your ruin. He looked good. His hair was all over the place, as usual, and he was wearing a leather jacket you’ swear you had seen on Slash before. But he looked small. His six feet four of frame looked incredibly small and frail. His eyes were all around like he didn't dare look at you but he didn't know where else to look at. His bottom lip almost imperceptibly trembling in spite of the careful smile he was trying to keep. His hand was still holding yours, but the grip was very light, as if he was scared of losing you, but willing to let you go if that was what you wanted.

-Were you leaving?--your silence, yet again, was an eloquent enough answer to his question --Why?

His voice was so low, so close to a whisper that you almost didn't notice the crack that came with it. Now his eyes were on you, and you knew he was waiting for an answer other than silence.

-Because, after three days of not knowing about you, it seems to me that two hours alone in a bar you wanted me to come to are more than enough.

-But I didn't see you. 

-Well you should have looked for me.

-I did! I looked for you, I swear to God, but I couldn't find you. I… I thought you had regretted.

“I have, Duff, I have regretted. That's why I'm leaving”. But you didn't tell him. He looked like he was stepping along the thin line that limits defeat. His shoulders were down, his eyes were glossy, his breaths were shallow and he was no longer trying to contain his shaking lip behind a smile. Instead, he just looked at you. And he kept trying.

-We can leave. We can go, now. As I promised. I don't have to go back in there for shit, I'm just done. We can go home and talk or sleep or eat or whatever you want to do. Anything. It's fine for me, I only want you to…

-I'm tired--your voice interrupted his with all the weight of the words he never let you speak - I'm really tired, Duff. I'm tired of you telling me that it's going to be okay, that you are going to make it better only to then show up crawling across the hall because you can't stand on your feet. I'm tired of not knowing about you for increasingly longer periods and when I do it's only via someone who wants me to pick you up from some bar or some fucking corner. I'm tired of having to cling to happier memories of happier times and fight the dread that comes with knowing that I won't be making any more of them, all of this while I clean the mess you made the night before. I'm tired of going on and on with the same circus, all over again. And I'm tired of waking up on my own, worried about you, but I'm scared shitless that some day I might wake up without you and not worry anymore because that's just "the way things are", "he'll come back" or "he won't". I can't do this, Duff, I can't lift the weight I have on my shoulders, I'm not strong enough.

You deflated like a balloon. That was all you had, every word you had to say left your body with an ease you would have never expected. And not even then you felt relieved in the slightest. But how could you feel relieved after telling the love of your life that he is hurting you beyond the point of repair? That's not nice, that's not even cathartic. It just brings emptiness. The only thing you could cling to and that had kept you company for so long, as nasty as it was, all the hate, all the sadness, all the soreness were gone now. Where there used to be an unspoken "No, things are not going to get better", now there remained the same sentence, but said, stated, now it was a fact, now it was a reality. Unspoken meant hope, because although there was no affirmation, there was no negation, and to that you would hold on for dear life even if it was red hot metal. But once spoken? Hopes are gone. And at that point your life was only fueled by hopes. That was the only reason you went to that party, that was the reason you waited for him on your birthday, that was what kept you holding on for months; hopes. All of them based on unspoken words that were now gone.

And he looked just as speechless as you. If before he had been balancing above defeat, you could almost swear that, by now, he was down the pit. His eyes were fixed on you, as if that was the place they only ever wanted to stay in, but he was unsuccessfully trying so hard to fight their will to be exposed to you. The eyes are the doors to the soul, and now he was the most vulnerable he had ever been. He didn’t want to be vulnerable. He wanted to be okay, and stand tall and be there for you when you needed him, he wanted to play that role. And if he ever let himself be vulnerable it could only be under the protection that the certainty of your love and your presence gave him. But lately he had done everything backwards. He had let the alcohol take over his insecurities and he had closed the door to you. And you had restlessly called and knocked and smashed it, but he had ignored the noise, and now the noise was over. You were leaving, you were done with it, you were done with him, and he miserably knew he couldn’t blame you. But he couldn’t blame himself either. Because, yes, it had been fully and entirely his fault, but, as he had told you the night before, guilt was a narrative he wouldn’t let himself drown in, because one thing he had learned was that drowning in a negative feeling only sends you further down, and he could not afford that under any circumstance, not if he really wanted to change.

You saw him pat the pockets in his jacket with a nearly desperate face, looking for something he most definitely couldn’t find. Then he looked in his jean pockets and grabbed from them the thing he was looking for, whatever it was. He handed it to you like a last strand, with the expression of one who is waiting for a death row pardon but is unsure it’s gonna come. It was a round metallic piece, not much bigger than a coin and not much smaller than a medal. It was golden and heavy, and on one side it had an inscription that read “24 hours”. You turned it around to see the opposite side of it, and the letters “A. A.” greeted you.

-I know it’s not much. I know. It’s… This is not an apology. I don’t have one, no apology on Earth is valid for all of this. I just wanted to show you I mean it, I want to change, and want to get help and I’m getting it. It’s just one day, I went on Wednesday and then on Thursday they gave me this. I was going to give it to you at home, but now I don’t know if…

Your body crashed against his with such force you two almost lost balance and fell to the floor, but you genuinely wouldn’t have cared, you probably wouldn’t even have noticed. Your arms held him the tightest they physically could, and when he overcame the shock, his arms responded the same way. With your face buried in his chest, you hadn’t realized you had started crying, and your tears and your muffled sobs freely lost themselves in his clothes. He was not going to try, he was actually trying. This was far beyond a promise, this was an actual move for the first time in forever, this was the materialization of your hopes. You had spent so many hours and days and months unconsciously preparing yourself for the crash you sensed was gonna come, that you had forgotten that the chance of flying existed too. And it was indescribably better than you could have ever imagined. His lips whispered against your scalp the words that had made that long nightmare a bit less unbearable: “I love you, I love you, I love you”. It was not an “I’m gonna try”, because he was already trying and he didn’t have to tell you, you could see it now; it was not a “Thank you for a chance you are freely giving me”, because, unlike all the other times, today he was earning it. It was an “I love you for staying despite all the things I have put you through, I love you for trusting me, I love you for being so strong and I love you for having such capacity for pain but an always bigger capacity for love”. He loved you, and you loved him no matter what, but now more than ever. And, for the first time in ages, loving him didn’t hurt.

_________________

Tags:  @whisperess33 @agroupiewhore @ethereally-distorted​ @holyjunkie

[thisselflovecamebacktome]

My personal connection with Taylor’s discography, part eleven: Happiness

Basically this is just a series I’m doing where I write down my feelings on what each of the Taylor songs means to me personally on a line to line basis both for my own sake to have it somewhere and for anyone who wants to know anything further about me.

So with that in mind, let’s get started.

Happiness

So much like the majority of Evermore and Folklore, Happiness reminds me of my family and the trauma of losing them which I’m trying to move past. Particularly, Happiness is the connecting point of the progress I’ve made moving forth and the reality that there’s still a long way to go and wishing I was further along the recovery road.

 Honey, when I'm above the trees I see this for what it is

I feel like this lyric is pretty much what it’s like on ‘good’ days. Like when I have removed myself enough from the situation and pain, I can rationalise to myself that what happened to my family wasn’t anyone’s fault, it was just a bunch of well meaning people who made choices they thought were for the best but ultimately did more harm than good. I can also acknowledge that what happened was probably for the best and that while I’m in pain now, it probably would have been worse otherwise.

But now I'm right down in it, all the years I've given is just shit we're dividin' up

But most days aren’t ‘good’ days. Most days, it feels inescapable that I gave between 16 to 23 years to these people that were meant to love me unconditionally for my whole lifetime just for them to decide that what we had wasn’t worth sticking around for. Most days, I can’t move past the bitterness that I have knowing that I feel like I’ve wasted my life because genuinely lived my life as a mirrorball and gave my all to make these people happy and keep us together just for it all to fall apart anyway.

Showed you all of my hiding spots

I’ve always been an oversharer that kept her heart on her sleeve. I genuinely feel like I showed my family, and especially my immediate family, every version of myself. My highs, my lows, my strengths, my weaknesses, my likes and dislikes; I showed it all.

I was dancing when the music stopped

I’ve mentioned this a few times in this project, but despite the issues my family had, I really fucking believed we’d get out of this okay and that the others wanted to. And I wore rose coloured glasses as things were ending and people were showing their true colours because I wanted so badly to believe that it was just a bad fight and once things cooled down, everyone would pitch in to fix things. So when it finally hit that none of them truly wanted to fix things, I realised that the music had stopped years beforehand and I had just been living in my own fantasy world dancing to a beat that wasn’t there.

And in the disbelief, I can't face reinvention. I haven’t met the new me yet

I saw a post recently that said this line is pretty much Right Where You Left Me condensed into one lyric and genuinely I have not seen anything more correct in years. Like I am still sitting here nearly six years after this started and nearly four years since I finally accepted it (god realising it’s been that long hit me like a fucking truck, not gonna lie) wondering who the fuck am I meant to be now? Like even without feeling like I devoted my life/existence for these people, who are you meant to be if not a reflection of the people who raised you and were meant to love you unconditionally?

There'll be happiness after you

I know I will get my balance back one day and be happy. There’s a lot of practical steps that need to happen first, but I know I’ll get there. And even though I wish it was with my family, I’ve accepted that it won’t be and it can’t be dependent on them or else I’m going to end up like my mother and never happy.

But there was happiness because of you

As much as I still cuss out my family, particularly my father, I grew up as a daddy’s girl and family orientated person and not all of that was negative. Though I can’t currently look back at them without crying, I have photos of birthdays, concerts, events, holidays and even just random day to day life at home that brought me so much joy. Likewise, though not directly involved, I would not have had one of the best experiences in my life of going to Japan with my school had my parents not cared enough to work their ass off for it. And though it’s hard to remember at times, especially on bad days, that is just as important to remember as the fact I’m going to be happy one day if I truly want to heal.

Both of these things can be true

Like I said, both past and future happiness is important and doesn’t negate each other. I can accept that someone from my past that made me happy isn’t going to be the one that does it in my future without either being more or lesser than the other.

There is happiness past the blood and bruise, past the curses and cries. Beyond the terror in the nightfall

Growing up in a mentally, emotionally and at times physically abusively household has left me with a lot of scars and while there’s no way to ‘prove’ it, I genuinely believe was the start of my then undiagnosed PTSD as opposed to the events of 2011. While ‘terror in the nightfall’ can directly be linked with the PTSD symptom of having chronic nightmares, I also link it just as strongly with general self doubting thoughts. Like I am very much still in a place where despite wanting to, I constantly question whether I should get married and have children or even just make new friends because I don’t feel worthy of it. All it would do is fuck over these other people. Because like end of the day, if the people who were supposed to love me unconditionally for my whole life didn’t, why the hell would anyone else?

Haunted by the look in my eyes that would've loved you for a lifetime

I will love my family forever. And genuinely, if they hadn’t of left, I would have done anything to make them happy for the rest of my life. And the fact that I do not get the chance to do that haunts me, and while I can never know for sure, I genuinely think it haunts them too.

Leave it all behind and there is happiness

Though it’s been hard, I’ve reached a point where I recognise that if I want to be happy, I need to leave behind the ‘what ifs’ and ‘what’s “meant” to be’ and focus on what is and the people who want to be in my life.

Tell me, when did your winning smile begin to look like a smirk?

Like I mentioned, I grew up as a daddy’s girl. Growing up, he was always the ‘fun’ parent. The one who was smiling and laughing all the time. The one who propped me up when I felt down. The one I really thought believed in me. But somewhere along the lines, he took offence to me wanting him to step up and face his choices so that we could fix our family. And as a result, he took joy in, in his own words, turning my sister against my mother and I and pushing me to still see him in order for mum to get spousal payments before the legal settlement out of spite. So I spent years begging him to be different, really thinking it was just a moment of hurt just for him to take pleasure in it.

When did all our lessons start to look like weapons pointed at my deepest hurt?

I’ve hinted at the fact that my mother is still less willing to recover and move past what happened with my family. Consequently, she’s spent the last 5 ½ years being like a bull seeing red at all times. And though I’ve tried everything I could to help her (literal hundreds of letters to politicians and other related parties to step in, reaching out to family, constant meetings with lawyers etc), even going as far as to go to law school hoping to find a solution there. But none of it panned out like we hoped. And because richer people with better connections, more money and “smaller” issues that are unrelated to ours won their cases in court and because I’m fighting for future laws to prevent this happening again rather than the unwinnable battle with my now fully adult and moved on family, suddenly it’s my fault things turned out like they did. She genuinely believes I did not try hard enough and did not care enough about my family, and particularly my sister, when in reality, losing her was, is, and always will be the biggest heartbreak of my life.

I hope she'll be your beautiful fool who takes my spot next to you

I’ve mentioned in a few other posts that both of my parents have, in their own way, raised my sister and I to be rivals rather than sisters. And so when my father chose to not reunite our family, it felt like he was picking her over me. And in my bitterness, I spent a long time making comments about how she was either just as bad as he is and using him financially or she was an idiot who couldn’t see through his bullshit and was fine being nothing more than a trophy so long as she was his favourite.

No, I didn't mean that. Sorry, I can't see facts through all of my fury

With time and distance away from my father and the refusal to constantly lend myself to my mother’s negativity however, I realised that I really had been aiming my anger at the wrong person. My sister was 16 when she left. A literal child. Each and every adult in my family, my then 20 year old self included, owed her more than what happened. Even if she was a “problem child” who physically and verbally lashed out, we owed her more and we failed her. That’s the part about all this that will haunt me forever. It’s not what happened to me. It’s what happened to her and the ways I let my anger and my parents cloud my vision to the point I know in my heart that things would have been different and I could have done more to save this family had I not. And I know that that anger probably traumatised and provoked a lot of my sister’s actions too. And in all honesty? The anger probably came from a place of projection too because in realising my father would rather stick with his lies than his family, I had to accept that I had been the fool that spent years soaking up praise about my achievements just to find out that’s as far as his ‘favouritism’ of me went.

You haven't met the new me yet

I somewhat joke about it, but I genuinely feel like I became a new person in 2019. Though I’m obviously not like magically healed from the trauma or anything, and while I don’t ever see a way I can have these people in my life again, on the most part I have a new outlook on everything. On top of no longer blaming my sister, I’ve been putting the focus back on myself both in terms of things I could have done differently but also doing my best to not see my family’s decision to lie and take the easy way out as being a reflection on me. Because ultimately, it’s not about me; and it took me a long time to realise that. And there’s a sense of peace in that which is the first of many parts that they won’t know about me. And in many ways, that feels like the first step to rebuilding myself.

There'll be happiness after me

Much like how my life has kept going, so has theirs. My now nearly 22 year old sister has a son who’s about to be a toddler. She has friends I’ve probably never met. My other family members probably have just as fulfilling relationships and memories that I’m not part of. It’s sad, but that’s how life goes.

But there was happiness because of me

Again, just like how my anger doesn’t negate the positive memories I’ve had with these people, realistically it’s doubtful that every second of the 16 – 23 years they knew me was neutral at best for them.

Both of these things, I believe

Logically you cannot have one of the above and not the other. Like despite what my mother thinks, you do not just stop being happy one day just because someone, or in this case many people, left. But that new happiness you have doesn’t make the old happiness any less honest. Also just in general In still in a place where like I really have to believe that my family loved and were happy with me but also happy now or else I’ll have a mental breakdown. So yeah…

There is happiness in our history, across our great divide there is a glorious sunrise, dappled with the flickers of light from the dress I wore at midnight

Like I’ve said, I have had a lot of good memories with my family, and with them being night owls and our Christmas day events at my uncle’s tending to run for 10 – 12 hours, the use of the time of midnight feels all the more personal to me. And while like I said, these fond memories aren’t enough to go back to that environment, they’re enough to be a light in the dark that reminds me that I’ve been happy before and illuminate the way across the divide to be happy again.

I can't make it go away by making you a villain

Listen, I will probably blame my father and other family members for the rest of my days over what happened. But with the new me that came in 2019, I’ve also accepted that focusing on that both internally and feeling the need to demonise them to everyone by acting like they were the only ones to make bad calls and that some of those calls didn’t come from a well-intentioned but misinformed place doesn’t make any of the pain go away. Even if they were the devil personified, I cannot change what happened. All I can focus on is myself and my future. And that’s the only way I’m going to heal and find peace.

I guess it's the price I paid for seven years in Heaven

Despite everything that happened in my childhood before the split, I am someone who got through it still loving my family and not feeling traumatised by them (or at least not processing it as such) until my adulthood. And while that may seem very bare minimum for a lot of people, it’s also a lot better than a lot of people had it.

And I pulled your body into mine every goddamn night, now I get fake niceties

I know a lot of people see this as a sexual line, but I gotta be real, from the first listen, I pictured the moments where I held/hugged my sister through anxiety attacks and lash outs and my father did the same for me. And again, despite that intimacy, we’re now in a place where we’re only polite in public (not that I’ve seen them out but if I did) in order to not cause a scene/get chucked out of wherever we were. Also, I can see this being how my father viewed all the awkward silences (which I spoke about in my It’s Time To Go post) and whatever when I did go to see him after my parents separation, because again, it did feel more like obligation than actually wanting to be there and while I know he somewhat caused that by deliberately keeping the family apart, I still feel bad over it.

No one teaches you what to do when a good man hurts you and you know you hurt him, too

Even the worst of families never expect things to blow up in the way my family’s relationships did. There isn’t and probably never will be a manual on that shit. And there’s an inherit loneliness about that because while your other loved ones can stand by your side, ultimately you gotta go through that shit alone because no one really knows what to say. So all the guilt, anger, depression and whatever else you’re feeling is exactly that: yours and yours alone. And that makes it all the rougher.

But now my eyes leak acid rain on the pillow where you used to lay your head

After my sister and father left, my mother couldn’t bare to sleep in her and my father’s old room nor my sister and my old room; instead opting to sleep in the lounge room. As a result, I moved into my parents’ old room. Though I have all new furniture, it’s set up in much the same way my parents had it and so it’s hard to not think about how my father slept in the same place I am now for 20 years of my life and the same can be said about my sister being in our childhood room for 16 years of her life. And while I’m somebody who has blocked out the ability to cry over most emotions, I’m still someone who cries very easily when I’m frustrated which as much as I wish I wasn’t, I still am frustrated and have cried more tears than I’d like to admit over how easy it should have been to keep our family together and how they just didn’t want to. And because there is that bitterness with the frustration, it does feel far more toxic than regular tears.

After giving you the best I had, tell me what to give after that

As I’ve mentioned, I’ve blamed myself a lot for decisions I should have made differently in this process, so I see this more as a line to remind myself that I did all I could. Like I took the ‘nice’ route with the adults in my family only to be rejected, I tried the assertive route and was only met with being cut off, and even if I took the ‘nice’ route with my sister, there is no reconnecting people who do not want to be. They all made their choices and could have come back at any time to hear our side even if they didn’t want to at the beginning, but again, taking the easy route was more important to them than taking the right one and no amount of me giving them what they wanted was going to change that.

All you want from me now is the green light of forgiveness... and I think she'll give you that

This is another fantasy moment for me. Like I really hope that one day I can forgive my family. Not to be in their life or anything, that ship has sailed. But just for my own peace of mind. I feel like I’m almost there with my sister, but honestly? It feels like I’m never going to get there with the rest of them. Alternatively, I see this line as again, being about forgiving myself for the bad calls I made, and while I’m not quite there either, I definitely think I will get there someday.

[huberts-private-counsel-archive]

If you could, please do “it’s not the typical Valentine’s Day present” prompt for Hubert/Ferdinand please? ❤️

I am s o frickin sorry about how long this took hHhhHH, but I’m gonna try and push through a few inbox things considering today is Hubie’s birthday!! 

Vague references to post-timeskip, but honestly, it doesn’t really matter :v

also accidental angst? in my fluff? its more likely than you think 

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

Hubert stared. And stared. Maybe stared a bit more.

“Ferdinand,” he began, slowly, “what are you doing?”

Ferdinand, who was very badly hiding riding gear behind his back. Normally Hubert would not have batted an eye - Ferdinand did often enjoy going on horseback rides, so it wouldn’t have been too out of the ordinary for him to be carrying such equipment, but there were several things wrong with this picture.

First of all, Hubert knew that Ferdinand’s horse (”Her name is Andromeda, Hubert! Not horse!” Ferdinand had declared when Hubert had first referred to the horse as such) wasn’t ready to be ridden. She was being checked over by Marianne after the recent battle, and Ferdinand never went on horseback rides on the days that Andromeda got checked over. Second of all, Ferdinand never tried to hide the fact that he’d be going on a horseback ride whenever he did - in fact, he oftentimes tried to get Hubert to go with him.

Third of all, that wasn’t Ferdinand’s riding gear. 

“N-Nothing you need to be concerned with!” Ferdinand said, very clearly lying. If it were any other time, Hubert would find it charming that Ferdinand had never truly learned how to sincerely lie, and maybe wish that he’d never have to learn. Now though, he just wanted to know what Ferdinand was trying to hide. 

“Ferdinand, you and I both know that you are horrible at lying. What’s going on?” Hubert kept his voice firm - he had learned, over time, he often softened his voice around Ferdinand without meaning to, as if speaking too loudly or harshly would chase away the sunshine that was Ferdinand. 

Not that his previously harsh words had deterred Ferdinand at all in wishing to court him, but that wasn’t the point here.

“Honestly, you do not need to worry!” Ferdinand laughed nervously and looked away, refusing to look Hubert in the eye.

That, of all things, struck something unpleasant in Hubert. 

He was not blind to his own reputation of being someone intimidating. In fact, he often took advantage of it - whether it was gathering information, subduing unruly underlings, or simply facing an enemy in battle, he used his reputation as a means to an end. So it wasn’t uncommon to hear gossip about him, or see people turn the other way whenever he walked by. It wasn’t uncommon to see people nervous at just the sight of him.

And yet, something about seeing Ferdinand of all people nervous around him, it made something bitter and unpleasant curl around his throat. He found himself staring at the ground, suddenly unable to look at Ferdinand in the face.

Ferdinand, of course, noticed. “Hubert..?”

Hubert almost didn’t respond. Almost couldn’t respond. The sudden curl of emotions wrapping around his throat nearly choked him. It was ridiculous, certainly, but he didn’t know how to stop it. Suddenly there was a hand on the side of his face, gently guiding his head to look Ferdinand in the eye. The concern that was suddenly so clear in Ferdinand’s eyes almost made Hubert was to look away again.

“Hubert...” Ferdinand paused, as though trying to think of what to say, before continuing. “My apologies, I did not mean to make you upset.”

“You have no need to apologize,” Hubert muttered, cursing the heavy weight in his throat. Curse his mind for continuing to present thought after thought of what he had done to make Ferdinand feel nervous around him. “I know that was not your intention.”

“And yet it happened all the same...” Ferdinand paused again. “I suppose it does not really matter now...follow me. I have something to show you.”

Ferdinand then took Hubert’s hand in his - Hubert idly wished his hands weren’t stained, so he could hold Ferdinand’s hand without fear of tainting his light - and began to lead him in a familiar direction. Towards the stables.

Upon arriving, Hubert noticed several things at once. The first was that most of the horses and pegasi were nowhere to be seen, save for one. The second was that the one pegasus that did remain was quite beautiful, its coat a light shade of brown and its mane a much darker shade. The third was that Ferdinand had guided him directly to this pegasus, letting go of his hand to run a hand through its mane. 

“I am well aware that this is not the typical present you gift your beloved, however...” Ferdinand paused to look at Hubert, a bright smile on his face. “I have seen how you looked at the pegasi, so I consulted with Edelgard as to how to get one that would be alright with letting a man ride her - and we were very lucky to come across this one. So now she is yours!”

Hubert stared. And stared. He didn’t know what to say. On one hand, he was absolutely overjoyed, not that he’d properly voice it if asked. He had always longed for a pegasus of his own, and to suddenly have one left him feeling a warm sense of happiness that he wouldn’t be able to voice aloud. On the other...

“...Ferdinand, I...I am happy, truly, but...” Hubert didn’t even have to finish his sentence. 

“You are afraid of heights...Edelgard had told me so when I initially suggested finding a pegasus of your own. But do not fret! I, Ferdinand von Aegir, shall assist you in combatting this fear!” Ferdinand punctuated that statement with a proud tone, an equally proud grin on his face.

Hubert really did love this man. More than he could ever hope to voice.

(As Ferdinand watched Hubert carefully walk up to the pegasus, actually lighting up - Hubert! Lighting up! - when the pegasus nudged against his hand so that he’d pet her, he simply smiled to himself. He truly did love Hubert, so much so that he could feel his heart overflowing with it at times. 

And he would cherish this moment for the rest of his life, as he would with any others that came in their wake.)

[ichika27]

My Thoughts on K - Seven Stories

I binge-watched this a couple of weeks ago. I nearly forgot about these until I found the subs. Haha

Here are my thoughts and a few screenshots (like one for almost each movie). I’ll just say a few things, I guess? Except for LSW (movie 4) and Circle Vision (movie 6) and Idol K (shorts) which will have their own posts cause I have the feels.

Movie 1, “R:B - Blaze” shows us the beginning of how Munakata Reisi got his powers as the Blue King and his first meeting with Red King, Suou Mikoto.

It’s nice to see more stuff about the two clans and how things went before the series began -  from within their groups and how they thought of each other. There are also more bits and pieces of the Kagutsu Incident and we get to see the former Blue and Red Kings at their final battle which is awesome.

Movie 2, “Side:Blue” - Like Sirius is about Kusuhara Takeru and Zenjou Gouki. Kusuhara is a member of Scepter4 who wanted to get in the Special Forces (You know, the group that fights directly under the Blue King which we see in the series) alongside his friends and everyone’s really supportive of him which is so nice. However, he’s not as good as they are yet and is told he’d only get in if he can get at least 1 clean hit on Awashima Seri on their spar. So far, no good.

Zenjou Gouki is the former Blue King’s right-hand man. He’s now retired and is working in Internal Affairs. He also watches over the training. Kusuhara ends up working under him later on and is also being trained by him when Kusuhara was given a time limit on his condition to join. Failure this time, though, means Kusuhara will lose his job.

This movie is... he got the job of course. Also, it didn’t end well. On his first day, too like why? Wtf?! I ended up crying when they told Zenjou what happened.

And I know Munakata is just trying to put logic into this and is actually feeling bad about what happened, too but freaking hell, man! That is not what you tell people who are grieving! I know you’re trying to rile them up and piss Zenjou off on purpose for a reason but still... you sound like a real jerk. This is why people think badly of you even though you’re not really that bad.

Also, this reveals why Munakata wants to have Zenjou out of retirement: Zenjou moves on instinct. Actions before thought: he does what’s needed and what's best especially in battle. He was the one who killed the Blue King before another Damocles Down happens after Kagutsu’s fell. He felt really bad for it and probably didn’t want to do it at all as Habari is his friend but it was for the best and so he moved without a second though. Munakata knows that Zenjou will do it again if needed. Munakata has Zenjou as some kind of fail-safe: if he’s become a danger like say, his sword is gonna fall, Zenjou would be able to kill him.

That kinda sucks to be honest. Zenjou was the one who took his own king’s life and he’s gonna be made to do it again if needed be. We all know how season 2 ended so it’s all good but still...

RIP Kusuhara Takeru. You’re one of the Best Boys and you deserved better.

Movie 3, “Side:Green - The Overwritten World” gives us Goujou Sukuna’s backstory. He came from a rich family but with very controlling parents. Finding out his only friend was a fake picked by his parents was the last straw which had him run away from home. He uses the JUNGLE points he earns playing the game so he could escape those trying to capture him to get him back to his parents.

This also shows how he met the Green Clan. How he met Hirasaka Douhan and their first fight against Mishakuji Yukari, which while I wasn’t able to get a screenshot (sorry) to show you, is really pretty. You know how the art for this show is all shiny and kind of have this realistic look, right? Their fight is more 2D-ish but has a purple hue. It’s better if you see it but it’s really, really pretty!

In the end, it also shows how Sukuna became a member of the Green Clan and that he and Hisui Nagare has some things in common. It made this group more interesting, sympathetic, and more human despite being the main bad guys if season 2. It made me like them a lot.

Movie 5, “Memory of Red - Burn” is centered around HOMRA and them planning Anna’s birthday party. I thought “Oh, a fun cute, episode with the Red Clan? Nice!”.

Then Tatara crosses paths with the Colorless King.

The it hit me...

Oh... no.

Yes, this movie is a direct prologue of the first season’s episode 1. How Totsuka Tatara died that fateful night. He’s a really nice guy, you know. They were having so much fun. Anna’s birthday was coming up, too.

When I saw the Colorless King, I started panicking. I told myself “It can’t be, right?” so when Tatara got back to the bar I was relieved. I thought it was safe but then he just had to freaking leave again! I was... I was muttering “No, please... someone please stop him...” while he was looking at everyone, unbeknownst to all of them, for the last time. I know I’m being overly dramatic here cause I already know his death is a foregone conclusion but still... I was getting really attached to these characters as the movie went on. I got to know a bit more about Tatara and why everyone is willing to murder a guy to avenge him in the series. It hurts, man. Even when I knew it still freaking hurts. I was crying when it finally happened.

I said before I started liking them more cause of movie 3 but this, knowing they’re the reason why Tatara died made me hate them the moment I saw it. I still like the characters but I don’t think I could ever forgive them for this.

No Blood, No Bone, No Ash.

Nothing left, not even ashes. Only memories of you in the ones you love. The cremation scene is just as sad to watch. What’s supposed to be a birthday celebration became a funeral.

RIP Totsuka Tatara. You’d be remembered, never forgotten and will always be an important and beloved member of HOMRA.

Knowing what happened at the end of season 1, I hope you and Mikoto are happy watching the outcome of the final battle.

--

Just wanna point out before anything else that it’s got a bunch of ED songs for each movie but more importantly, the OP “Survive!” by Angela is a total banger. I ended up listening to it on repeat alongside “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” by the Idol K seiyuus. It’s so good. And the OP video is so pretty! There’s a difference in character designs this time around from the original series though and I’m sure you’d realize it when you finally watch it: their eyes are a bit bigger. It made them look younger and it’s something to get used to. I liked the older version but this wasn’t so bad. Still, for K fans, it depends on you what you think.

Anyways, the entire movie series was so good but I wish there were more. So many more backstories unexplained. I know they’re in the LN and manga spin-offs plus some extras on drama CDs and stories posted online but come on, they deserve an adaptation, too!

I really wish they’d made more for this series. If I had the money I’d buy the dvds for these. Or the artbooks. Have you seen the artbooks? The art for posters and stuff are all so pretty! I’d love a copy of them to be honest.

Anyways, I already made a post on Idol K and LSW and Circle Vision’s will be made later.

[caroline-min-max]

2-22

February 22nd. It seemed like a date that would resonate with Two Face. What Min and Max don’t know is that it’s also special for a certain foul tempered, rabbit eared woman. 

Two Face was obsessed with the number two. It ruled his life. If he could he’d have doubles of anything and everything. Establishments at all affiliated with his favorite number made sure to have excellent insurance policies. It wasn’t a matter of if but rather when he’d hit them.

 It was the reason why he busted Min and Max out of jail. Being the only pair of identical twins he knew of they were appealing henchmen. Otherwise he tended to at times despise the brothers for their chatty natures and tendency to backtalk. He still had no idea which of them was which nor did he care to learn. 

Harvey Dent was the reason why he couldn’t help having some pity for the greenhorn criminal who’d chosen to call herself the White Rabbit. She could be a rather odd addition to their team, dwarfed by the men’s heights and not exactly fitting their theme.

She’d consistently proven her worth during crimes and that’s why Two Face kept her around. That set of ears served as a massive advantage to alert them if anyone was heading their way when they were trying to be stealthy. Those powerful legs she had resulted in her at times being a decoy, causing a chase while Two Face and the twins stole whatever they’d come to a location for when the coast was clear.

February twenty-second was fast approaching. Just like on the second Two Face intended to pull off a crime and wanted the White Rabbit to tag along as well. He brought it up as she was preparing to leave his hideout with the twins after another completed job once she’d changed back into civilian attire.

Caroline hesitated. If they were successful it would be a major score, but... “Mr. Dent... Do you remember what else is on the twenty-second?” she asked meekly, the twins watching with questioning looks on their faces.

It took a moment for Two Face to recall what she was referring to. “So what?” he barked. “You have to grow up sometime, White! Use the money you’ll get to buy yourself something!”

“I... Suppose you’re right...” Caroline submitted unhappily. She turned back to face Min and Max, obviously upset. “Could you please take me home now?”

“Sure thing!” Max answered.

The twins wanted badly to know what was wrong. They were quick to take her out to the car, Min opening the door to the backseat for her to get in before he took his place up front with Max.

Burning with curiosity the twins hesitated to ask Caroline what she was so down about as Max started to drive them to her own hideout. She stared blankly out the window, the hair from her wig falling over her shoulders.

“Um, Miss White?” Min finally spoke up.

“Yeah?” Caroline responded, still looking outside at whatever they were passing by.

“What’s on the twenty-second?” 

Before answering Caroline smiled sadly out the window. What did it really matter, anyway? It’s not like it had ever been a special day for her. She always spent it by herself, trying not to dwell on how no one else in the entire world cared. “It’s my birthday... I’m going to be twenty-one.”

“Birthday?!” Max said in surprise.

“You’re younger than us?!” Min blurted out.

“EXCUSE ME?!” Caroline said hotly, turning forward with an angry scowl and eyes narrowed. Just what did Min mean by that?

Min flinched from seeing the Caroline’s murderous expression in the rear-view mirror. He didn’t dare turn back to face her directly.

“Y- you don’t look old!” Min replied quickly, mind racing for the right words to fix his careless remark. “You’re...” his mind drew a blank.

“More mature than me and Min!” Max filled in, Min grateful for the help.

The twins were relieved when they noticed Caroline’s usual annoyance cross her features. She was back to looking chronically constipated rather than wanting to tear their heads off. Though she did have a bit of temper, neither the White Rabbit or Caroline had been violent towards them, but they didn’t want to push their luck.

“Hmph...” Caroline looked out the window again. She shouldn’t have said anything. What did these two idiots care? Now her feelings were hurt on top of it. She supposed she didn’t exactly look her age. It was hard to be youthful when her life was so hard. 

...What had been done to her body against her will had likely aged her as well. Having rabbit DNA forced into her system had been a special, unique kind of pain she hoped she never experienced ever again. 

The twins stayed unusually silent during the rest of the drive. As they neared where Caroline wanted to be dropped off she grabbed her bag and opened the door as the car was slowing. She got out before Min had a chance to, not wanting him to open her door for her or help her out. 

Max stopped the car the moment he realized what Caroline was doing, he and Min flinching slightly at how hard she slammed the door after getting out. She usually thanked them for the ride and said “goodbye” to be polite. Today all she wanted was to get away from them. 

“Look what you did!” Max said as he gave Min’s shoulder a shove in disapproval. He already got the impression that Caroline didn’t like either of them and now Min had made it worse.

Max knew that Caroline was never certain which of them was which so a blunder either of them made reflected poorly on both of them.

“I didn’t mean it like that!” Min replied. Truly he hadn’t. It was simply hard to believe a no-nonsense, unfriendly woman like Caroline who had barely started her twenties behaved that way. It made him feel even worse for her. 

They’d pestered Two Face to tell them what happened to her. Why she’d wound up the way that she did when Caroline herself had ignored their questions about it. It was obviously something terrible as they couldn’t even goad their boss into flipping a coin to decide whether he’d fill them in or not. The answer had been a firm “NO” and a threat. 

It was hard not wanting to get to know the young woman Two Face had been recruiting more and more frequently. There were times when they’d caught her off guard with how warm and caring they could be but she quickly regained her composure and brushed them off. 

They hadn’t earned her trust and wondered if it would be possible to ever do so.

On the twenty-second the White Rabbit expected nothing and was still disappointed. She spent her morning sleeping in, spent too long in the shower, and then had a mundane breakfast of toast and cereal. If not for her plans she likely would stayed in her pajamas all day.

When it came time to be picked up she should have expected that two dimwits like the twins wouldn’t remember to so much as wish her a ‘Happy Birthday’ after she entered their car and sat down.

Besides their typical greeting the twins barely spoke to the White Rabbit. While in the past she longed for a silent car ride for once she found herself missing overhearing the banter between the two of them or getting asked an occasional question. It was like she didn’t even exist. 

At Two Face’s hideout it was business as usual, going over their plan one more time before they headed out. The bank on second street was their target, a listless and sighing rabbit following the men inside as Min announced loudly their intentions to rob the place.

“White!” Two Face barked at her. “Watch the door!” 

“Yeah...” the White Rabbit sighed in compliance; she hadn’t forgotten her role. She stuck her hands in her pockets as she lingered in the doorway. Not even a part of the action this time... Just a lookout and listening for the sounds of any approaching sirens.

The White Rabbit also eyed the frighten patrons who were on the ground as they’d been instructed. No one looked like they’d put up a fight or be a threat. She almost felt sorry for the woman comforting her crying son. She was clearly scared yet still trying to put on a brave face, assuring him it would all be alright.

Chances were low that either of them were stuck in this joint on their birthdays, the White Rabbit thought to herself as she pouted. She glanced over to see the panicked bank tellers filling the bags that Min and Max were holding as Two Face kept a gun raised. 

Those were some nice stacks of cash they were getting. Maybe she was looking at this all wrong. She was going to get her share of all that for just standing around. It would be more than what she’d make in years from busting her ass as a waitress.

Sounds of barely audible sirens made the White Rabbit’s ears twitch. Someone must have tripped an alarm or snuck in the back to make a call without any of them noticing.

Placing her pointer and thumb in her mouth, the White Rabbit let out a loud whistle to get the men’s attention. “We gotta go!” she warned. Sure she was cranky by nature but god help everyone in Arkham if she were to wind up there today. She’d unleash a fury the likes no one alive had ever seen before.

Their greed made the men want to stuff their bags a bit fuller from what they were forcing the employees to grab from the safe. Their desire to get away with what they had, and trusting the White Rabbit that the cops were too close for comfort, made them hurry towards her.

They’d left the car running. The White Rabbit and Two Face got into the backseat while the twins took the front. Max floored it, sending them speeding away from the bank.

The White Rabbit kept the window open, everyone else staying silent as she listened for the sirens while the men kept watch for anyone who might be trying to tail them.

Until the White Rabbit relaxed all of them stayed tense. The worrisome sounds were getting fainter and fainter. She believed that while the cops had arrived at the bank they’d been quick enough to get out of there before they could ask someone to point out where they’d went.

“Max...” Unable to shed her nervousness the White Rabbit’s paranoia was getting to her. “Could you maybe turn up here and take the longer way back to the hideout? I don’t like how straightforward this route is.”

“Sure thing, Miss White!” Max answered amiably, doing just as she asked.

Finally the White Rabbit sat back. At this point they should be fine. Max slowed his speed to stop arousing suspicion. No one should think anything of them as they finished their journey back. 

The White Rabbit was eager to get her payout and leave. She fidgeted slightly as Two Face distributed out the money into four piles. She shifted her weight from one leg to the other, pleased as she heard the amount in front of her going up and up. 

Once Two Face was finished she knew to wait for the OK to take it. She stuffed her share into her bag before walking off to the room she used to change in. Upon returning a most unexpected sight was before her.

“SURPRISE!” the twins shouted enthusiastically with broad smiles, setting off party poppers as Caroline walked into the room. “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”

Caroline jumped nearly a foot into the air from being so startled as confetti and strands of paper rained around her. Two Face sat grumpily at the table, staring begrudgingly at the coin that had decided he’d be roped into this mess before pocketing it. The decision had been a few days ago yet he still couldn’t believe how it kept seemingly betraying him.

On top of the table the remaining stack of money had been cleared. Instead there were four chairs, plates, knives and forks, and a pink frosted cake that said ‘Happy Birthday, Caroline!’ in white letters. 

The twins smiles dimmed as all Caroline did was continue to stare. It was as if she couldn’t process what she was seeing. She was completely dumbfounded. Min and Max didn’t seem like two individuals who could keep a secret and yet she had no clue that they intended to so something like this.

Caroline had been cold and snippy with them at times. She couldn’t even tell the two of them apart yet. Still, they’d done this for her. It was obvious that Two Face was just along for the ride and hadn’t wanted to do this. 

It dawned on Caroline how much time was passing as she was lost in her own thoughts, the twins worried they’d startled her bad enough that she’d frozen. She opened her mouth to thank them but instead tears rolled down her cheeks. 

“Oh no...” How embarrassing! How weak of her! Caroline turned her back to them and quickly wiped at her eyes with her hands. 

“Miss White?” Min asked, both he and Max confused. 

Two Face looked on as the twins approached Caroline. He felt conflicting emotions to see Caroline like this. ‘Big Bad Harvey’ wanted to yell at her to dry up so they could hurry and get this over with while the Harvey Dent in him was reminded of when he first met Caroline. She was weepy then as then well.

Each of the twins placed a comforting hand on one of Caroline’s shoulders. They knew she didn’t like to be touched, hoping this wasn’t intruding on her comfort zone too much.

Caroline sniffed, regaining her composure and feeling her tears start to stop. She was almost afraid that she’d be crying a pool of tears when she started. “Thank you,” she said. “I’m OK now... No one has ever done anything for my birthday before.”

The twins gaped in amazement when, for the first time, Caroline smiled. They’d seen grins, smirks, and sneers but never a genuine smile of pure happiness before. 

That’s when they finally saw it. They saw the young woman Caroline really was. Her defenses were down. There was nothing mean or intimidating in her eyes but rather a gentle fondness as she looked at them. They were still glistening slightly from her tears, completely removing the unease and fear they usually felt upon looking at them. 

“Do you want a slice of cake, Miss White?” Max asked.

“I would love one,” Caroline answered.

“We didn’t know what kind you liked so it’s vanilla,” Min said as they walked back to the table with her, he pulling out one of the chairs for her to sit down on.

“I’m not picky. I have a sweet tooth so I like almost anything!”

“These idiots almost got you carrot cake,” Two Face replied, making the twins turn red in embarrassment. They’d really had no clue.

Caroline giggled. “Well, I suppose I can’t blame you two for considering that!” She wasn’t offended in the slightest. She was in too good of a mood and genuinely found it funny. 

Min and Max couldn’t help laughing a little at themselves as well. Max cut four pieces of the cake, presenting Caroline with the first slice, Two Face with the second, Min with the third, and giving himself the fourth.

The cake’s taste was perfect, Caroline’s face starting to hurt from how much she was smiling. The twins seemed ever more chipper than usual, glad they’d done something she liked. Two Face said nothing but ate his slice of cake. Caroline figured it was unlikely he’d had sweets like this since becoming the man he was today.

It wasn’t over yet.

Seeing that Caroline had finished her slice, Max reached under the table for something she hadn’t noticed. He placed a neatly wrapped rectangular shaped present (done so by a woman at the department store) on the table with paper that was green with rabbits playing in a field. 

“You... You got me a...” Caroline’s voice wavered as she felt tears stinging her eyes again. She quickly blinked them back.

“What’s a birthday without a present?” Min asked kindly with a smile. “This is from Max and me!”

“We weren’t sure what to get you...” Max admitted nervously. Deciding on this was even worse than the cake dilemma. 

Caroline didn’t doubt that. She had no idea what to expect when she opened the package. She gasped when she opened it to find a red coat with fuzzy white around the sleeves, hood, and as hearts on the pockets. On the collar was a red bow and it fastened with red heart buttons.

“This ADORABLE!” Caroline exclaimed as she held it up to get a better look at it. 

The twins grinned, pleased with themselves. They knew she wasn’t saying it just to be polite.

“We saw how upset you were when your old one tore,” Max explained. During the cold of winter the White Rabbit had opted to dress in layers, not handling it well, and got her former coat snagged on some broken wood.

“Oh my goodness!” Caroline was thrilled the more she looked at it. Where had they found such a thing? She’d never seen a coat that was so her before. “I’ll think of you both every time I wear it! Thank you!”

The twins were about to respond when Two Face surprised all three of them by sliding a simply wrapped, smaller box towards Caroline. He said nothing as she took it and thanked him, crossing his arms instead.

“Well open it,” he said gruffly.

“Sorry!” Caroline quickly pulled back the paper. She opened the box to see an expensive looking knife. Its handle looked ideal for gripping and its’ sharp blade glinted in light. “And I guess I’ll think of you every time I stab someone,” she joked. With a knife like this she should be able to cut through her victim’s flesh like butter.

Two Face couldn’t help smirking at that comment. Still, he’d had about as much as he could tolerate. “Now get the hell out of here. I’m sick of looking at the three of you.”

“Goodnight, Mr. Dent,” Caroline replied as the twins helped her gather her things, boxing up what remained of the cake, before escorting her outside.

It was a lovely night, Caroline taking a moment to take in the pleasantly cool air. She looked up at the sky, wishing that Gotham didn’t have so much light pollution. It would be nice to see the stars for once. 

“Miss White.” Min’s voice got Caroline’s attention. He had the door to the backseat open and ready for her to enter. 

Caroline nodded, finishing her walk to the car and getting in.

“I still can’t believe Mr. Dent went along with this...” Caroline said in amazement shortly after Max started the car. “Did you two convince him to flip for it?” That was the only way she could see it being possible. 

Min and Max glanced over at one another for a moment. They weren’t sure just how much they should disclose. Feeling they could trust the White Rabbit, they decided to let her in on their secret.

“We switched out his coin,” Max admitted. That hadn’t been easy. Most of the time that coin was kept safely in Two Face’s pocket. During one flip Min had ‘accidentally’ bumped into him, causing Two Face to miss catching it. It landed on its edge on the floor and rolled away.

While Two Face was screaming at Min, Max retrieved the coin. He pocketed it and presented their boss with a replica that was weighted before bringing up their party idea for the White Rabbit. 

“He had a trick one that always landed on good heads,” Min added. They’d been quick to switch it back once they’d gotten their way to avoid Two Face catching on.

“Why would you do all that for me?” Caroline asked. That was an awful lot of trouble to go through. Dangerous on top of it. She could actually picture Two Face killing someone for messing with his precious coin.

“We wanted to,” Min answered simply.

Max put more thought into his response. “You deserved to have a good birthday. It was worth it to see you smile!”

“Oh?” Caroline replied, Max not realizing saying something like that to her was dangerous.

Once she’d started working at that horrible club for a bigger paycheck she was expected to smile at the customers no matter what. No matter how crude something they said was, no matter how much they touched her without her permission, she had to make them feel like they were valued patrons. She could never express how much she hated it. 

You’re much prettier when you smile! If that’s what Max was getting at...

“We’ve never seen you so happy!” Max elaborated. That’s what mattered to him. “We’ll do even better for you next year!” he promised.

Max had no idea how dangerously close he came to losing all the progress he and Min had just made with Caroline and then taking about a thousand steps back. Instead Caroline found herself actually starting to like the two of them. They were so honest and straightforward.

“Yeah!” Min agreed excitedly. “We have to for your Golden Birthday!” By then hopefully they’d know of some (if any) friends Caroline had made and they could invite them as well. During the short time they’d been at Arkham with her none of the other Rouges seemed to mind her. They’d been curious. 

They were already thinking about that? Caroline’s hope was that she’d grow as a criminal and be able to make it more on her own without Two Face someday. Wouldn’t that mean an end to seeing Min and Max as well?

She felt a bit sad about that as she listened to them ping pong ideas of what they could do. They refused to comply with Two Face putting a crime before her birthday again next year.

Caroline felt a smile cross her lips again. She supposed only time could tell. 

[kenzieam]

Druid - Chapter Seven

Rating: M (smut, language, violence, mature themes, potential major character death)

Genre: Drama/Angst

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LEV

This is what it feels like to finally come home.

I let the steady beat of James’ heart lull me to sleep.  

Light streaming through the window wakes me later. I’m still cuddled next to James, face burrowed against his wide chest. His arm is still a heavy, comforting warmth across my shoulders and his gentle snores are adorable. Carefully, slowly, I lift my head to look at his face. His head is tipped to the side, propped against mine and, as I move, he frowns in his sleep and grumbles, arm tightening around me. I take a few moments to study the man before me.

His stubbled cheeks are darker, the beginnings of a real beard starting to show. A fresh scar I didn’t notice before bisects the left side of his bottom lip and I feel a stab of guilt. Hammer’s fist did that, after I left. The scar just adds to his beauty though, a wild and alpha attractiveness currently being countered by the complete innocence of his sleeping face. I’m jealous of his lashes, itch to feel those full lips press to mine. I-

Have to get a hold of myself. 

We bypassed all normal interaction before, leaping directly into wild, crazed sex against a wall and look where it got us, me running like a coward, only slinking back a year later. I can’t let that happen again; we need to talk, develop a relationship, a friendship not based simply on want and need, although Jesus, there’s a lot of that right now...

Get up, moron.

Reluctantly, I slither and shimmy free of his grip. James grumbles more and I think I hear him breathe my name before he settles again, but I force myself to continue to step away.  

When I return from the bathroom, he’s still blissfully asleep, but the delicious aroma of fresh coffee is in the air. God Bless automatic coffee makers.

The view outside his window captures my attention and, after I pour myself a mug, I can’t help but stand there, gazing out.  

A shuffling and sounds of movement reach my ears belatedly, then I feel arms band around me. There’s a hesitation in them, but as I barely smother a moan and lean back into James’ chest, he sighs in relief and nuzzles even closer, burrowing his face into the crook of my neck.  

“Good morning,” he rumbles, his voice a sexy rasp. I shiver when he turns his head and presses a lingering, tender kiss to my pulse point.

“Good morning.” I whisper back, skin goose-bumping. Christ, I could stand being greeted like this every morning, what a hardship. “I was going to start breakfast, but I got distracted.”

James lifts his head, rests his chin on my shoulder and stares out the window with me. For a long moment, he doesn’t speak, but contentment radiates off him in waves. “When are you meeting with Steve and Nat?”

I glance towards my phone, silent on the table. No light pulses to indicate a new message. “I don’t know, Trent said after noon, I think.”

“That’s good of you,” he continues, the rumble of his voice more felt against my back then heard. “Selling to them.”

“Are you kidding? It’s awesome, I’m so happy they asked. I wanted a nice family in there, people who’d fill it with goodness.”

“And bikers.” James teases.  

“And friends.” I counter easily.    

He doesn’t answer with words, but his arms tighten around me and he inhales deeply, nuzzling his face back into my throat. “Thank you for staying.” He murmurs after a long, comfortable pause.

“Thank you for letting me. And giving me another chance.” I blurt the rest before I chicken out.

His lips caress my skin, sending fresh goose-bumps racing over my body. “Of course, baby.”  

His new pet name sends a delicious shiver through me and I turn my head towards him, running on sheer instinct. He raises his head to meet my gaze and I’m thrown by the banked desire in his eyes. His lips are parted, breath growing heavier and his gaze drops to my lips. He shifts his bulk so we’re facing each other.

Our first touch is hesitant, questing; but a bolt of heat rockets through me. There’s a faint tremor in James’ lips, a hesitation and I know that if I opened my eyes to look, I’d see pain on his face from holding himself back. I feel the same pain; my face is twisted with the same sweet agony. Our kiss deepens, mouths opening, widening to capture more of each other. His tongue against mine pulls a wrecked moan from my throat and he answers with an equally broken groan low in his chest.  

James pulls away with a pained growl, resting his forehead to mine. His breath is harsh pants on my face and neck, fingers clawing me closer.  

“Stay.” He breathes, so low I barely hear and part of me wishes I hadn’t. The anguish and desperate hope in his voice claws at my very soul. I don’t deserve this, this incredible man. I don’t deserve this devotion, this love from him. I’ve hurt him so badly before...

Then don’t do it again. A voice deep down inside me whispers. Stay and show him how you really feel.

I nod, not trusting my voice and he lets out a long breath, his hands reach up tentatively to cup my face. He raises his head again, lips ghosting against mine, fighting to not claim my mouth the rough way his tensed muscles say he wants to. We touch again and he whimpers, low in his throat. I pull back, overwhelmed and burrow my face in his throat instead, start to nibble along his velvet skin, drawing a groan from his chest as he drops his head back. He shifts against me and I feel him, hard and straining behind his zipper. Part of me forgets my vow of just minutes ago, the pledge to go slowly, build a relationship before tumbling back into bed with him, but another part of me screams for that to shut the fuck up.  

It’s the most difficult thing I’ve had to do in recent memory, but I pull away, taking a deliberate step backwards, reluctantly meeting his troubled gaze. “James...”

I trail off, one word from him will bring me right back against him again.

“Yeah,” he grunts, voice rough with desire and strain. He steps further back, nodding and rubbing his jaw absently. “Yeah, you’re right.” He clears his throat and I stumble to fill the upcoming silence.

“I’ve got some things to finish at the house before I meet Steve and Nat. I’ll head over there now.”

James nods, swallowing hard. He shifts uncomfortably and I fight to not drop my gaze to his tight jeans. I’m sure his body hurts as much as mine does right now; taut with need, shaking with hunger. “I’ve got a bike I’m working on for a guy-”

“Down at the shop?” The club owns a few legitimate businesses, including an auto-body garage.

“Nah,” James gestures vaguely to the backyard. “I’ve got a place out back, mostly for bikes; I’m getting into more designs and customization.” He chews at his bottom lip for a moment, debating. “There’s a party tonight, at the clubhouse... a birthday party, would you like to come with me?”

I hesitate, eagerness warring with wariness. “For who?”

James’ lips quirk. “Thor.”

The name is like cold water down my spine. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

He’s shaking his head. “It’s okay.”

“No, I’m sure Thor never wants to see me again-”

His blue eyes meet mine. “Trust me, babe. He was asking about you just a few weeks ago. I think he’s willing to forget the past.”

I can see Thor doing that, he’s a naturally gentle soul, despite the Viking God body containing it. “But your other-”

James cuts me off. “No, they’re over it. It was never their business anyway. Thor coming back with Sable shut up the last of the pricks still busting my balls.” He pauses, studying my face. “We don’t need to stay long, if you don’t want to.”

I need to get over this hang-up. If I want James in my life, if I want to be in James’ life, then that means the club too. Besides, the women who date bikers are supposed to be tough, not wimps. “Okay.”

His wide, relieved grin makes my heart skip. “Great. Leave here about 8:00? We can eat before that.”

This is sounding more and more like a date, but the nervous flutter I’m expecting at the thought doesn’t come. I feel excitement and anticipation instead. “Should we bring him something? I can stop at the liquor store.”

He frowns, tilting his head. “You don’t have to-”

“No, I want to. I... he’s a nice guy. Does he still like bourbon?”

“Yeah, doll. He does.”

BUCKY

I leave but stay standing beside my bike.  

I watch as she locks up the house, then walks to her car.  

I watch as she leaves, and the last pieces of my heart shatter.

A year.  

A fucking year.  

I break a thousand times over.  

Sudden memories of her assault me indiscriminately, randomly throughout my days, slam into my brain and force me to my knees, weak and shaking. Her scent, her smile, her laugh; a bittersweet hell, death of a thousand cuts; my heart bleeds daily.

The beatdown Hammer gives me is a welcome distraction from the raw agony in my soul. The lingering pain of broken bones gives me something to savor and escape into, rather than letting the blackness Levi’s leaving brought to my life consume me.

I leave endless messages, calls and texts, but she refuses to answer any of them. Finally, an automated voice tells me the number is no longer in service.  

Thor leaves as soon as he’s able to, not that I blame him. I know it’s only because of Steve that he’s only going downstate, and not completely leaving the club. The brothers bust my balls, some firmly in Thor’s defense, others not. I can take, it barely registers anyway through the static hum of my misery.  

I know Steve and Nat are keeping in contact with her, keeping up her house while she’s gone; and the stubborn bastard won’t tell me about her, won’t give me her new number.  

Prick.

I don’t overcome the darkness Levi’s leaving surrounded me in, I can’t, but I learn to live with it, learn to navigate in the blackness. The club girls no longer interest me, the antics of the club parties no longer excite me; all I want is what I can’t have.  

A beautiful, auburn-haired goddess, her eyes the color of amethysts. I could drown in those violet depths, and welcome the death.  

Thor returns, with a woman at his back. She’s tall and blond, her sunny smile a surprise for a biker chick; Sable. And Thor looks at her the way I look at Levi, she’s his entire world, his reason for living.  

I’m genuinely happy for him, for the happiness he’s found, but seeing them together is a punch in the guts every time, because I had my happiness too, for five fucking seconds, then she left.  

A few days after Thor returns to the club, he approaches me during a quiet moment. The fresh scar on my lip throbs in remembrance and I shift my weight in anticipation. But he wants to talk and I humbled by what he says.  

He forgives me. He’s willing to move past what happened, the ugly words and violence. He wants to be my brother again, bury the hatchet and I wonder if I would be a good a man as him if the situation were reversed.  

“I owe you, actually.” He laughs, taking a deep swig of beer. “Without all that, I never would have met Sable. Shit... when it happened, when I saw that look in Lev’s eyes, I knew what went down and I wanted to kill you. I cursed your name the whole way downstate; then there she was, like a breath of fresh air. What I felt for Levi didn’t even compare, what I thought was love... wasn’t. If you feel half for Levi what I feel with Sable, then I understand your pain, man. I’m sorry I got in the way. Shit. It brought me to my girl though, I’d do it all over again.”

He's a rare man, and I tell him so, we bro-hug and mend our fences. Back to brothers, back to family.

But I’m still alone.

I’m surprised to see Steve’s truck parked outside the local realtor’s office and pull up beside it to wait. I haven’t seen him yet today, and the fog I’ve been lost in for the last year is lifting a little, I feel like hanging out, teasing him a little.  

Then I see her.  

She’s here. And I suddenly can’t breathe, can’t think. All the pain rushes back, all the agony, the anguish. I can’t decide if I want to drive my bike off a cliff or fall onto my knees in front of her and beg for another chance.  

Then Steve’s opening his mouth and I can’t decide whether or not to kill him first.  

“Why don’t you two catch up?” He chirps, the happy bastard.

I’m frozen in place, and Levi looks just as numb.

“Yeah, go have dinner.” He turns to me. “Nat and I are buying Lev’s house, we were just taking her out to celebrate.” I want to throttle him, I can’t handle Levi turning her back on me right now.

I try to back out with at least a modicum of dignity intact.  “Brother, I can’t intrude-”

Now his ol’ lady is piping up, turning to Levi and putting in her two cents.

Whatever she says works though, for Levi answers with a quiet. “Okay.” But it looks like she thinks she’s agreeing to be led to the gallows instead of dinner.  

With a final triumphant crow, my VP is gone, taking his woman with him, and I’m left there with the woman who could either break my heart or fulfill my entire life, all with one word.

“You don’t have to.” I find myself murmuring.  

But she does! And we agree on the Station, and I can’t quite process what this means. I’m still shaking when we arrive, find it hard to breathe when Levi reaches back into her car for a jacket, blessing me with a hint of her shapely ass beneath her patterned skirt. I’m having a hard time concentrating when all my blood is racing south.  

She’s more relaxed at dinner and I bare my heart and soul to her more than I ever thought I could, say things I’ve only ever confessed to her in my most tortured dreams.  

I confused her, pushed her away with my anger and silence; she seems stunned when I reveal the truth; my glares were anger, but not at her, at Thor, at myself. And the broken man who stole a kiss in the clubhouse kitchen was just a glimpse of the agony I lived with daily.  

She apologizes for leaving, for running from the chance we had to talk, to work through this mess; and for staying away so long.  

And most telling, most heart-rending; she doesn’t run when I confess my love for her. She’s surprised, sure; and I can’t blame her, but she doesn’t leave.  

And she doesn’t want the night to end. I can hardly function as I let her into my house, watch her take in what I choose to surround myself in with gentle curiosity. The cat, who doesn’t love anyone, even me most of the time, is near spastic with glee rubbing against her and if I wasn’t trying so hard to behave I’d boot his furry ass outside from pure jealousy at the knowing gleam in his green eyes when he allows me to stroke his head, purely for show, any other time I tried I’d pull back a bloody stump.

I don’t know what movie she picks, I’d watch the inanest drivel, I’d watch Battlefield Earth for fuck’s sake, as long as I got to sit beside Levi while I did it.  

But I want more.

“Tell me about yourself, Levi.” I’m thirsty to know more, know everything about my girl and she doesn’t disappoint, proving herself a spellbinding storyteller, weaving an incredible tapestry for me to imagine. Then she turns the tables, and I feel a bolt of panic.

“There’s things I can’t tell you. About the club, and what we do.” Shit, what if she insists?

“No, I know. I mean stuff you can. Funny stories; you and Steve growing up.” She understands, and I nearly collapse back against the couch in relief.  

My stories aren’t nearly as entertaining, my storytelling sorely lacking compared to hers, but she listens and laughs, surrounding me with this unbelievable feeling, this contentment like I’ve never known before.  

I think I’ve just experienced my most perfect evening.  

I can’t even hold back when she asks about my arm. I knew it was coming eventually, how many men are out there with full metal prosthetic arms? But I don’t mind telling her, I’m long past tears over that part of my life. I still grieve for Daria, probably always will, and still wake at night sometimes, the screech of rending metal, of scraping flesh and Daria’s last scream before I blacked out echoing in my mind, but it no longer consumes me the way it did.  

And she takes my metal hand, holds it and plays with it, not afraid or repulsed. She measures our palms, smiles over the difference in our fingers, not knowing how much I crave to cup her cheek with it, trace it along her gorgeous body and feel her shudder beneath me.  

I settle for kissing the top of her head, resting my cheek against her hair and, lulled by a bone-deep relaxation I don’t ever recall feeling before, fall asleep.

As I do, one last thought drifts through my mind.  

This is what it feels like to finally come home.

She’s not curled into my side when I wake up and I feel a bolt of panic, mixed with sorrow. Then noises from the kitchen tell me she’s still here and I’m on my feet, questing to her, hesitant as I wrap my arms around her, begging her to accept my touch, nearly swooning when she leans back against me. I kiss her neck, relish the shiver she gives me and just snuggle close, enjoying this feeling for as long as I can before real life intrudes.  

She meant to make me breakfast, but got distracted gazing out the window; fuck, I could wake up each morning to that view.  

Then we kiss, and it’s the most visceral, passionate kiss of my life. We part reluctantly, heavily. We’re going too fast and we both know it.  

“Stay,” I beg, not wanting her to run again like last time. She nods and I cup her face, fighting with everything I have to not take her right there, I can’t help but whimper when we touch again then she pulls away, nuzzling into my throat, firing up my body with her seductive nibbles and sucks. Before I lose control, before we both rush into what we’re trying so hard to do right this time, she pulls away again, this time for good.

“James,” her voice is as wrecked as I feel.  

“Yeah,” I manage, rubbing at my jaw. “Yeah, you’re right.”

She has to finish up with her house, and although I want nothing more than to spend the whole day with her, I know I can’t. I ask her to the clubhouse for Thor’s party tonight, but I’m torn about whether or not I want her to go. Part of me wants to keep Levi all to myself, stay locked up in this house as long as we can alone, but another part knows that’s foolish and greedy. The MC is my life, and I want Levi in my life too, so they’ll have to mingle at some point. Besides, Thor’s forgiven both of us, is genuinely happy with Sable and the rest of my brothers who disagree can go fuck themselves.  

She’s such a sweetheart, she wants to bring Thor a gift, and my heart is still racing in my chest for her when she leaves.  

LEV

James had spaghetti waiting when I got back. The house sale went off without a hitch, and I spent the next few hours driving aimlessly around town, letting my mind wander. Although I know what I want, James and only James, the path to that is not entirely clear.

Firstly, I have nowhere to live anymore. Sure, James has offered his guest room, but are we ready to move in together so fast? I think I already know James’ answer, and mine, but what’s the right answer?

Fuck the ‘right’ answer, do what feels good.

I haven’t decided yet if that little voice is bent on helping me or getting me into trouble.  

I suppose I could rent an apartment for a while, but what’s the point? The end result will be the same. James and I are one, connected. This has been inevitable for years, since high school, really.  

Secondly, my career. I’ll be the first to admit tattooing is definitely suited to a nomadic lifestyle, all you need you can carry with you. And while I’ve entertained the idea of my own shop for a while now, I’m not ready for that quite yet. It shouldn’t be too hard to find a shop I can work out of, and worst-case scenario, I could just do body-piercing in a salon for now, until something opened up, or I finally decided to just jump into my own.

All of this musing and mind-wandering however, has just been a distraction. What I want, what I crave and need is right there in front of me, kissed the fucking daylights out of me this morning, and is more than willing to give me another chance.      

Stop fighting this, stop fighting fate, open your eyes.

James’ delighted smile when he opened his door to my knock was all the confirmation I need that I’m making the right choice.  

All that resolution, however, doesn’t stop my nerves from jangling as we approach the clubhouse. There’re far more bikes there than I’ve seen before, more bikers milling around, the music audible a long way off.  

Sensing my tension, James yells over his shoulder at me. “A bunch of our downstate charter are up for Thor’s party.”

Oh. And how will they receive me? Stop it, James wouldn’t have brought you if you weren’t safe.  

He parks nearest the door, the President’s spot and waits for me to dismount first. His arm stays around me as we enter the clubhouse, even as people recognize him and call out to him, high-five and fist-bump him, eye me with interest until James’ warning growl makes them stop. James leads me to the couches at the back and we’re still a few feet away when the birthday boy spots us.  

For the briefest beat, surprise flashes in his eyes and something else, regret? Pain for our missed chance or just the ugly way we parted? Then he’s standing and pulling me into a bear-hug, his greeting like a big enthusiastic Golden Retriever.  

I manage a glance at James when Thor finally lets me go and he’s watching his brother with narrowed eyes but, as our eyes meet, his lips pull into a smile. Thor keeps his hands on my shoulders and grins widely at me.

“Levi, my lady! You look beautiful!”

“Happy birthday, Thor. I brought you a present.” I hold up the bourbon and can’t hold back a grin at his delighted response. His hands leave my shoulders as he cradles the bottle, face splitting into a huge grin.  

“Thank you!” He seems to remember the blonde standing patiently behind him and he turns to her, pulling her forward. “Levi, meet my Sable.”

My Sable. My heart melts and any fear I held that Thor wasn’t completely happy flies out the window.  

His words seem to placate Sable as well and her smile is genuine. She pulls me into a hug not unlike her brutish man’s and giggles as we pull apart far enough to look at each other.  

“Welcome, Levi. Thor’s told me so much about you.”

I feel a jolt of guilt, but Thor’s face is wide and happy, and I can detect no malice or snideness in Sable’s tone. They truly are beautiful people, both inside and out.  

“Thank you, I heard you’re originally from down-state?”  

That seems to set her off, and the boys have to guide us to the couch as she talks my ear absolutely off. Thor pulls her into his lap and James pulls me into his, then they leave us be, talking to each other and their brothers while Sable and I get on like a house afire. There’s something comforting and fresh and fun about her and I genuinely, almost instantly, like her. James gently pushes a bottle of beer into my hand and Thor insists on cracking open his present and doing a round of shots, then two.  

All in all, I’m having a great time. Nat and Steve found and joined us on the couch and Nat falls effortlessly into our conversation while Steve laughs beneath her with his brothers. Newly arrived partiers shout greetings at Thor and everyone is happy and drunk and merry and-

I love this. I realize. I love this closeness, this family dynamic. The party is loud and rowdy elsewhere, but around us is calmer, and I feel completely and totally comfortable here. I’m home.

I also have to use the bathroom, and lean down to murmur in James’ ear. He hesitates briefly. I wore one of his Druid hoodies here, but I took it off when it got too hot, and now I’m only wearing snug jeans and a wife-beater, in short, not his cut, not his mark. I never had a problem when I was with Thor, James keeps his brothers in line when it comes to respecting the club women, but there’s down-state boys here too.  

“I’ll take Sable or Nat with me.” I offer and his face relaxes. He nods with a relieved grin.  

Nat’s on her phone, talking to the babysitter, so I ask Sable and she leaps happily from Thor’s lap, whirling and planting a kiss on his surprised lips.  

“Don’t get lost!” He teases when she explains where we’re going. He roars when both of us flip him off and turn away.  

The bathroom has multiple stalls and most of them are busy, full of laughing girls. I emerge from mine first and wash my hands, then scurry out; it’s becoming fuller in there, women crowding around the mirrors to touch up their make-up. I’ll just wait right outside the door for Sable-

“Hey,” A rough, unfamiliar voice grates on my ears and I turn in surprise. Before me is a tall, muscular man, reeking like a still. I don’t recognize him, and he obviously doesn’t know me. He must be from down-state. His patch reads ‘Lurch.’ Appropriate.

“You’re hot.” He growls and I wonder if he’d be more eloquent if he wasn’t three sheets to the wind. Before I can polite extricate myself, his meaty paw shoots out and gropes my breast. His hand is rough and hard, his touch in no way gentle or welcome. I slap his hand away with a mix of indignation and anger, more than a little surprised at his boldness.  

Instantly his face changes. Gone is the genial, happy drunk copping a brash feel. Suddenly, he is cold and hard, eyes like shards of glittering ice. Pain explodes in my cheek and I stagger, dropping to the floor as my head spins.  

The fucker just back-handed me, hard. I taste blood and find it hard to focus, everything is swimming and doubling. I look up, fighting to show the rage I’m feeling, to bare my teeth in a snarl, anything; but my face is numb and unresponsive. He draws his booted foot back to kick me and I know this is going to hurt.  

An animal roar of unbridled fury hits my ears just as someone slams into my attacker. I’m still too disoriented to follow what happens next, but I can see at least two men, three? dragging the prick who hit me out the clubhouse door. Sable is at my side suddenly, grabbing at my face, pulling back when I hiss in pain.

“Levi? What happened? Are you okay?”

“That prick hit... me. What the...”

Nat drops beside us. “Steve, James and Thor are dealing with him. C’mon girl, we’ll take you upstairs, doc’s on his way.” She elbows looky-loos away and helps Sable guide me towards the stairs. Behind me, I register screaming and shouting, thuds and crashes, the sounds of someone getting the ever-loving shit beaten out of them. We’re almost upstairs when two gunshots pierce the air, making me jump. As we reach the end of the hallway, and the door marked ‘President’, I hear booted feet pounding up the stairs, then James’ desperate voice, all traces of rage gone, agitated concern making his words crack.

“Levi? Is she alright?” There’s a jingle of keys as he thrusts them at Nat to unlock the door, then he’s grabbing my shoulders, turning me to face him. His face contorts when he sees me.

“Fuck, baby.” He pulls me to his heaving chest, frantic and half carries me past the girls into his room. With startling gentleness, he helps me sit on the edge of the bed and stands to face me, hands on his hips.

“Stitch is on his way.” Nat reports and James nods, looking like an animal wanting to pace his cage. He looks up, wiping at his face and for the first time, I see the blood.  

“Bring us ice.”  

Both girls nod and disappear and James turns back to me, crouching in front of me, taking my hands in his. The disorientation is gone, and the double vision, but my cheek still feels hot and tight.  

Tears stand out in James’ eyes, tears of sorrow and rage. “I’m so sorry, baby.”

I rush to comfort him. “It’s not your fault, he’s down-state, he doesn’t know me.”

“Was.” He grunts.  

“Wait, what?” Was?

His gaze goes hard. “He laid hands on you, doll. He hit you. Nobody touches what’s mine.” I shiver involuntarily at the coldness in his voice. This is Cannon, this is the president of The Druids, this is a man whose killed before and, I believe, again, just now.

Nat reappears, with Steve, Thor and Sable behind her. James takes the ice pack she offers and presses it carefully to my cheek. I fight a wince.

“She okay?” Steve asks. He doesn’t wait for James to answer. “Levi honey, you okay?”

I look up, turn my head to meet their concerned gazes. “Just rung my bell a bit.” I attempt a joke, but Thor looks sick. As the club’s Sargeant-At-Arms, the safety of the club and its members is his responsibility.

As I meet his troubled eyes, he pushes past Steve and strides towards me. James tenses to block him, but I lay my hand on his and squeeze. Thor drops to his knee in front of me.  

“Forgive me, Levi.”

“It’s not your fault.” I protest. James remains silent, but claps his brother on the shoulder. “Please, I’m sorry, I should pay better attention.” James growls low in his chest but a man pushing into the room halts any further talk.

“Stitch.” James barks and Thor stands, stepping out of the way.  

Stitch is young and quiet, eyes dark with shaggy brown hair. I haven’t seen much of him around before. “I didn’t know you were a doctor.”

Stitch briefly meets my eyes. “Field medic. Afghanistan. Two tours.” Then he’s all business, rooting around in a small bag.

That explains the somberness, the haunted eyes.  

“Follow my finger,” he instructs, moving his raised index finger across my line of vision. I see Steve motion James over and whisper to him. James looks conflicted, and Steve murmurs to him again, nodding in my direction. Reluctantly, it seems, James leaves and Steve moves closer, taking a protective stance beside Thor.

“Look at me.” Stitch continues, shining a light in my eyes.

BUCKY

I don’t fucking need this right now. I want to be upstairs with my girl. My jaw is tight, teeth almost squeaking from the pressure as I descend the stairs and march to the door. The party is continuing, albeit quieter and I don’t miss the looks I’m getting; some are surprised, some are respectful, one or two are nervous. Whatever.

A tall, lanky man waits outside. I glance at the ground. Someone’s already disposed of the trash.

“Cannon.” Tracer, the President of our down-state charter says. His voice gives nothing away, I don’t know if he’s pissed or contrite.  

“Tracer.” I reply, coming to a stop a half-dozen feet away. The smell of gunpowder is still thick out here, beneath it the sharp tang of blood. I flex my left fist and it whirs quietly.  

“Was that really necessary?”  

I fight down a surge of renewed rage. Was that really necessary? What, is he fucking high? “Yes. He hit my woman; was about to kick her like a fucking coward.”

The ‘C’ word is not thrown about lightly in our MC and Tracer shifts his weight, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand.  

“That was... excessive; but sometimes these bitches need a-”

“Don’t fucking finish that fucking sentence, Trace. I’ll put you down right beside your boy.” Tracer, unfortunately, runs a far looser club than I, and believes in a little physical ‘correction’ if any of his club’s women step out of bounds. That shit doesn’t fly with me and he goddamn well knows it.

He holds up his hands. “She wasn’t wearing your cut-” He begins, ready to protest that there was no way Lurch could have known she was mine. I know Lurch wasn’t renowned for his stellar intelligence, but fuck right off.

“Fuck that. She was in my lap all goddamn night. There was no question whose property she is. And even if there was, that shit doesn’t happen here and you know it. Not my fault if you haven’t educated your brothers on that. Do what you want back home, keep your fucking hands to yourself up here.” I’m about done with this shit. After Steve, Thor and I laid that miserable bastard out, beaten to an absolute pulp, I pulled my .45 and put two in his fucking skull. And I’d do it again; fuck, I’m tempted to do the same to Tracer, what an asshole. Can’t he see the seriousness of this? Levi is not just some club girl, she’s mine. “If I was down-state and decided Missy needed a fist in the mouth, you’d be cool with that?”

Tracer flushes, eyes dropping. I’ve finally touched on something that makes sense to him. I see the argument forming in his stance; Levi isn’t my ol’ lady, but he wisely keeps it to himself. He knows Lurch’s behavior would have earned a serious beat-down if Levi was just a club girl, the fact that I took his miserable life as payment shows how serious I am about her.  

Finally, he nods. “This done?”

“Is it?” I shoot back.  

He wipes a hand over his mouth. His brother fucked up and paid the price, he can accept it and continue, or not and start a war between charters, either way, I’m ready. “Yeah.” He steps forward and extends his hand.

I pause a beat then take it. His hand squeezes mine and I squeeze back. He lets go before me.

“Must be a hell of a woman.”  

“She is.”

[chisie12]

Dance of Silver, Chapter 3 - Smile

Ah! Took longer than I expected but here’s chapter 3! Hope you guys enjoy it! The bed lulls me to sleep.

¬-¬

The silence was heavy between them, one person on either side of the train. It was deserted in the train, barely another living soul besides the few students grouped in a corner and an elderly lady going home, besides Angela and Jesse.

Her legs wouldn’t stop twitching as she repetitively curled and uncurled her toes. Her teeth was continuously lodged in her bottom lip, eyes blankly staring out the window, unregistering the blur of scenery that rushed by.

Directly across on the left was Jesse McCree, head lowered with elbows heavy on his thighs. With a groan, he dragged a hand down his face before sliding it up and over his head, combing the messy strands of his hair back. Dropping his free hand on his cowboy hat occupying the space next to him, his eyes darted over towards the blonde woman of a sister who was equally hunched over as he was.

“Jesse! No!”

Her shrieks fell on deaf ears. Jesse tightened his hold on her body while he ran, ran as far as he could go, leaping over the roots and fallen branches, making a beeline towards even the smallest sign of civilisation.

“Let go of me! We can’t just leave him there!”

“No can do, sis.” There it was again. ‘Sis’. The underlying tone of seriousness and absolute defiance to any of her requests. Not taking any bullshit from anyone, not even her.

She screamed his name again, pounding her fists onto his back. Bloody scenes filled her mind, the anxiety painting a gruesome play of shredded limbs, broken bones, and the lone, desolate curve of his back, as though he gave up on living, on fighting.

“Fuck! Jesse, we have to go back!”

Jesse dug his nails into her skin, bearing the pain with gritted teeth. His head still throbbed with pain from the fall, and she wasn’t the only one screaming at him. His muscles wanted to give up, to break down, stabbing pains shocking his nerves, but he focused on putting one foot after the other. He needed to run. Keep running.

He needed to bring her back to safety.

Angela fought and wiggled out of his grasp, her mind filled with only the smile Genji last gave her, and that small wave of his hand. He’s all alone, fighting those hordes of vampires alone! And that sniper! Weren’t they after him!? As if by a stroke of luck, she successfully hammered her knee into Jesse’s stomach, and the man doubled over in pain, grip loosening and sending her tumbling forward.

“Oof!” A sharp pain shot up her neck as her back hit the sturdy wall of a stump, and painful groans drifted into her ears. Her eyes flew open, directly landing upon the young cowboy hunched over, arms wrapped around his middle. “Jesse? Jesse!” She scrambled over, tripping over the propped root and falling onto her knees before him. She hadn’t kicked him that hard, did she? It shouldn’t have caused him this much pain!

Her hands trembled as they reached out towards him. Now, it was only now that she took a good look at him. Soft brown locks matted and stuck to his face, sticky with sweat. Splats of blood caked his skin, from his cheeks to his neck, and definitely over his clothes, but as her eyes moved downwards, they widened as fear struck her hard.

A large patch of eerie crimson extended its greetings towards her, the pool growing bigger and bigger, all the while Jesse pressed a hard hand onto the wound.

Jesse glanced down at his black undershirt, having thrown his shirt away after being stained by blood. They barely passed the checks even with his stained undershirt, the dried blood barely visible over the black, and with Angela blocking the view from the front. Security had been suspicious, warily watching them with narrowed eyes at their staggered, slow steps, and laboured breathing.

But at least they got home.

The pair of siblings stared up at the three-story house, brick walls painted a clean white, tall silver gates bordering its large perimeter with lush trees providing a curtain to what’s inside.

Angela gingerly held onto Jesse as she tapped the four-numbered pin and the side gate opened with a click and closing behind her with a light kick and a loud clang.

“Angie!” A raspy voice called out. A figure padded his way over with arms open wide, face marked with the vicissitudes of life and a bright smile. His blond hair faded into a silvery white but unlike other old men his age, his head still had a full head of hair, and that was something he was still proud of.

Angela’s eyes, tired and rimmed with shadows, lit up at the sight of her grandfather. “Grandpa!”

“Come here, my darling angel.” He kissed her hard on the temple, ignoring the spluttering of a certain cowboy in her arms. “I’m so glad that you’re finally home. Are you alright?”

“Yes, grandpa. But we need to tend to Jesse. He’s been wounded.”

The old man scoffed, eye-rolled at Jesse and gave the younger man a pointed look. “Weren’t you supposed to be tough? ‘Those vampires ain’t got anything on me!’, or something. Didn’t you tell me that?” The grandfather mocked with a badly done accent, his arms crossed over his broad chest.

A pleasant laughter bounced on Jesse’s chest. “It sounds funny coming from you, old man. Good to see you’re alive and still kicking.”

“And I can easily kick you a hundred meters away if you weren’t injured!”

Altherr Ziegler was an old man in his mid-60’s, standing tall and proud at nearly two meters. His biceps were still bigger than his own (and there’s no way Jesse would acknowledge that. His were always going to be bigger) and he was still as fit as a fiddle, as healthy as an ox even.

“Come on. I’ve already prepared the room just in case.” A warm, deep voice carried over from the door, watching the trio slowly make their way over amidst their banter.

Jesse looked at the man leaning against the doorframe. Unlike Altherr who was muscle-bound, Wendell Ziegler was tall and wiry. His body was lean and defined, blond hair tied into a low ponytail. Rectangular glasses framed his vivid blue eyes and the cowboy’s lips twitched upon seeing the smile on the man’s face. From the hair to the eyes and to even the smile.

Like father, like daughter indeed.

Wendell helped his daughter bring Jesse into the medical ward of the house, set aside for emergencies like this. Altherr wordlessly stood outside the door, watching his son and granddaughter do their medical magic through the small window. He clicked his tongue, seeing them clean the wound, flit and stitch it with deft fingers, made him clueless yet proud. He knew the young cowboy was definitely going to live.

Enough for him to beat him up again.

“Done? Is he done?” Altherr voiced out, an eagerness unmasked in the tone.

Angela and her father cleaned themselves before bringing a bandaged Jesse out of the room. Altherr trailed behind them like an oversized puppy. When they set him down in a clean bed, he repeated again: “Done? Is he finally done?”

Angela giggled and held onto her grandfather’s hand. “Yes, yes. He is, grandpa. What’s wrong?”

The old man beamed, stretching the laugh lines on his face and patted her hand lovingly. “Come! Grandpa has something for you!”

At the mention of a gift, Jesse shot up but he groaned and fell back down onto his back. “Gift? I wanna see too,” he whined.

“It’s not for you,” Altherr snapped, bringing his granddaughter away.

“Rest well, Jesse.” Wendell graciously wished before closing the door behind him, leaving the young man to his sulking.

Alther set his granddaughter on the three-seater couch of the living room before running upstairs. Angela faintly heard the sound of metal clanking and doors slamming before an excited grandfather bounded down the steps. Her father watched in amusement at his own father, sitting on the sofa on the other side of the couch. Turning her head at the nearing footsteps, the smile on her face froze.

“Is that…?”

“The one and only! Our ancestral weapons: Caduceus Staff and Blaster!” Altherr plopped himself down onto the space next to her and gently set the two weapons in her lap. The staff’s body gleamed an inky black with a silver head and the blaster was similarly coloured.

“But why…?”

She knew of the two weapons, having been brought down generation after generation, but all this time, she didn’t think they worked, having only ever seen and heard of them.

“As you know, our family is a descendant of Angels,” Altherr began solemnly. “And unlike other hunters, we rely on our blood to sense and hunt the vampires. The reason you hadn’t seen it being used is that our blood wasn’t strong enough.” He folded her hands over the weapons. “But yours is.”

She spluttered some words, half-formed from confusion and shock. Her mind was reeling at the turn of events. Half her heart was beating furiously at the pride and happiness at being given the responsibility, to actually be acknowledged, strong, yet it was that very same responsibility that weighed down on her like a ten-tonne boulder, pushing her shoulders down and holding her there.

Could she do it? What if she disappoints everyone?

“I was supposed to give it to you on your 21st birthday but…” Altherr trailed off in a nervous laugh, the words stuck in his throat.

“Father forgot where he left it. So he never gave it to you. That’s why he was so excited the moment you came home,” Wendell filled in, cheeks on his knuckles and a leg over the other.

“Wendell!”

Instead, Wendell chuckled and grinned at the frantic spluttering of his father, but his eyes turned worried as they landed on his daughter’s quiet figure. Her head remained lowered, fingers absentmindedly stroking the metal on her lap. He furrowed his brows.

What was she thinking?

———

Red. It was only red in her vision. That dark, sinister colour painted everything in her sight, the Caduceus weapons turning into the backdrop as blood spilled.

She squeezed her eyes shut.

It had been the scent that day. Their sweet, young fleshed aroma that counted. Their sugar levels were high, having been only 15 years old. The vampire had been like an uncontrollable diabetic and the first crazed one of their kind.

Her eyelashes trembled, her eyes squeezed shut tighter.

The warm blood splattered onto her fear-laden face. Her body froze. Her muscles were heavy, stuck to the ground, unmoving. His voice, just having cracked from puberty, screamed. Screamed so loud, so terrified. But she couldn’t do anything. Couldn’t move. Couldn’t even twitch. Couldn’t even goddamn scream.

She didn’t know what to do.

“J-Jesse…”

Her voice came out weak, utterly weak that even she was disgusted.

Swoosh!

A gust of wind blew with a dark, lithe silhouette dropping beside the pair of hunter siblings. Hidden by the shadows, the figure easily ripped the diabetic vampire away from Jesse’s neck and sunk his own teeth in his new victim’s neck.

Why it chose the vampire and not Jesse? … was something they couldn’t comprehend.

And it had happened all in practically three breaths; The time short enough that Jesse wouldn’t turn into a vampire even if he wanted to.

When Jesse slumped forward, hand clutching his bleeding neck, Angela swore as she caught his body, wishing and hoping that she just had something, anything, to patch him up. But she didn’t.

The bone-crunching crunch and slurps caught her attention, yet all her eyes could catch in the utter darkness was a glimpse of bright green hair crowning a pair of demonic red eyes.

The scene faded and blurred. The darkness stayed. But instead of a bleeding, screaming Jesse came the screams of another young man, no, vampire. He was being ripped limb by limb, scratched and torn by a horde of newborns, all because he wanted to protect. Her. Protect her. She didn’t know if he escaped, or if he was even still alive.

The smile he threw her way, that wave he waved before Jesse dragged her away, that heart-wrenching, gut-stabbing pain in her soul; She couldn’t forget.

She wouldn’t forget.

If only she had the ability, the strength, then things would turn out differently. If she could protect others and protect herself, wouldn’t that change so many things? Not just to her as a vampire hunter, but as a combat medic.

Gripping onto the staff and blaster, Angela’s eyes glazed over with a newfound resolution, and the silent men in her life could see it, the change happening in her mind, in her spirit. They watched her lift her head, a fire blazing in her gaze, and they knew they made the right choice in entrusting the Angelic articles to her.

“Thank you.”

Just those two words, nothing more, nothing less. It was her pledge to them and they understood the silent pledges; She believed she could save the world, both humans and vampires alike.

And they believed she could change the world the way she wanted to.

One step at a time.

The door to his temporary room slid open and Angela emerged from the doorway. He was pleasantly surprised to see her there when surprised crossed his face upon catching sight of the staff in hand and blaster holstered on her waist and to complete the oddity, there was a brown box tied with a big red bow in her arms.

“What’s that, darl’?”

She beamed at him. “Your last gift.”

Jesse grinned at the box shoved into his arms, body jumping in excitement. Who wouldn’t from being given three birthday gifts? The suspense could have killed him! Tearing open the bow, he lifted the cover just as Angela sat on the edge of his bed, watching his face change from surprise to utter glee.

“BAMF indeed!” he exclaimed in joy, removing the belt from within the box. The gold buckle was engraved with the same four letters in uppercase on a neat leather strap. “You spoil me too much!”

Angela hurriedly leaned over and accepted his hug so that he wouldn’t have to move too much, and accidentally straining, as well as ripping the stitching open. Knowing him? The possibility of that happening was well within the 90’s. This brother of hers couldn’t stay still no matter what.

“Happy 21st birthday,” she softly said with a smile.

Jesse caressed the leather, a loving gaze in his eyes. From the cowboy hat to his Peacekeeper and now the BAMF belt. He didn’t think things could get any better.

Oh, yes. He didn’t have to watch the unrestrained flirting of that damned green-haired vampire.

Other than that, he was blissful.

“Grandpa gave this to me just now,” she showed him the weapons, finally getting to the main point she came in instead of letting him rest. “As a late birthday gift.”

He nodded at the weapons. “Did the old man forget where he left them and that’s why he gave them to you now?”

Her mellifluous laughter made him grin wider. “You sure know him well. It’s our Angelic artifacts from way back when. To fight against the vampires.”

Jesse nodded. He knew of the family’s Angel’s blood, that they were all descendants. “What does it do?”

“I’ll show you.”

She lifted the staff, hand in the center of the body and clicked onto a mechanism with her thumb. The three ribs at the head of the staff flicked open and a yellow halation appeared. The blood in her veins boiled, rushing faster at the sudden connection between her and the staff, and willing it in her mind and thumb still on the button, she gently waved it towards his wound. A yellow ball of light separated from the halation, extending out into a beam that floated towards the side of his body.

It was an icy, itchy sensation the moment the beam touched him. His muscles shivered, mind refreshed with the chill and he felt it close. The wound that was held together with the stitches twitched and waved towards the other edge, skin automatically grafting together and swiftly closing. Gasping, he threw the blankets off and lifted his side, inspecting the wound he — the wound that was supposed to be there.

“Holy shi—” Jesse’s mouth gaped open. Sure, he had thought that the Angels were cool, but not this cool.

Now this, this topped it off. Cowboy hat, revolver, and BAMF belt could only come second to this. Alright, maybe not. Those three still meant a whole lot. It’s a close battle for first place.

Angela also leaned over to inspect the wound, glad that it had disappeared with a simple heal. Her thoughts wandered over to a certain vampire whose smile she couldn’t erase. “Now you can keep going. I’ve got you.”

———

Haa…

A breathy mist drifted out of his mouth, white fangs drenched in blood. A pile of newborn corpses lay by his feet in a mound, strewn over the trees and covered the ground.

His demonic red eyes darted up towards the opposite canyon where the sniper’s glint was not seen in the last hour. They flickered with an intense heat, the glare almost burning through the thick clouds that obscured the sky. Despite the weariness in his bones, the aching of his muscles, it did little to diminish the hate that he kept buried inside.

“It’s not over yet.”

The face of a gentle smile flickered in his mind and the anger promptly sizzled away like a bucket of cold water splashing his face, and he found his own lips curving upwards at the mere thought of seeing her.

“It’s definitely not over yet.”

[lovingdelusions]

Fang’s Fogarty’s Fantastic Ways to Get Sweet Pea and Y/N Back Together

Author’s Note: Oops. (Also if you want me to write more about what happened to Jughead and Archie lemme know)

Warnings: mentions of self doubt, cheating-ish, reader gets hit by Sweet Pea, sad and angsty shit ahead

Listen to this and this?

Sweet Pea fucked up pretty badly. You fucked up pretty badly. Both of you fucked things up pretty badly. You’d both said some things that you didn’t mean, but you two were too stubborn to admit your mistakes.

“Come on, Sweet Pea,” Fangs sighed, trying to get him off his couch. He hadn’t moved from that spot in seventeen hours, not counting the one time he got up to take a piss.

Sweet Pea ignored him, lying face down into the couch. He hoped it would suffocate him enough to either make him pass out or die. Tears pricked his eyes. He was still thinking about the things you said to each other.

Sweet Pea didn’t mean to hurt you. He promised he would never do that intentionally, but it just slipped. Two weeks ago, he had everything. Now, he had nothing. Well, he had the wildflower you dipped in silver and gave to him. It was the same yellow wildflower that he gave to you in the bouquet, and it was hung around his neck on a chain.

Draped across his shoulders like a blanket hung your Bulldogs letterman jacket. He hated the obnoxious yellow and blue colors, but it was the closest thing he had to you.

Sweet Pea sniffled, turning his head to bury his face into one of the sleeves. Your scent still lingered on the jacket.

On the other side of town, you weren’t doing much better. Since you two had broken up, you’d become more irritable, threatening to fight someone over every little thing, and you did.

Cuts and bruises littered your body, but you couldn’t feel it. You were past being angry, past being reckless and stupid. Now, you didn’t know what to feel. You didn’t know how to feel.

You were tired of fighting. You just wanted to rest.

Lying on your bed, staring at the ceiling, you were just a shell of a man that you used to be. Sweet Pea’s jacket laid beside your head on the bed, folded neatly.

You fisted the leather between your fingers and held it to your chest, your hand over your heart. It almost felt like when he slept on your chest and you could feel his heartbeat slowdown when he was asleep.

“Psssst!” A rock was thrown at your window. You were pretty sure there was a crack in it, but you couldn’t find a reason to let your nosy, redhead neighbor in.

You clenched your eyes shut, wondering what it would be like if Sweet Pea was here. He’d never admit it, but the Serpent loved to be the little spoon. Everyone always gave him shit for being tough, but it was just a front. You knew that all he ever really wanted was to be loved. Sweet Pea wanted to be safe.

His hair would tickle your nose, but you’d only bury your face further because his hair smelled like a tropical fruit shampoo. The scent of his cologne would stick to you, and you’d pretend that you didn’t like it even though it was your favorite. His warmth would radiate and make the whole bed feel like a personal heater. He’d toss and turn throughout the night if you didn’t hold him the right way, having nightmares of what happened in his childhood. He’d feel like love and joy.

But Sweet Pea wasn’t there. And you weren’t his happiness anymore.

A bitter numbness spread through your body like frost, and all you could do was close your eyes and hope the pain went away.

You hadn’t realized someone was in your room until they hesitantly touched your forehead. Taking in a sharp breath, you flinched but kept your eyes closed.

“Y/N,” Archie said softly. You hated his voice. His I’m pitying you voice. Deep breaths were exchanged from the two of you, and that was it.

After a few minutes, you felt him get off the bed. You hoped he left.

“Where’s the guitar?” You wouldn’t move, couldn’t move. Archie slid your closet door open where you heard Sweet’s guitar being picked up. You wanted to stop him, say that was only for your sweetheart to use, that it was his birthday gift, but you didn’t. Because he wasn’t yours.

The first tears fell when Archie played a lullaby, and they kept falling. You stared at the ceiling, a sob building in your throat as your best friend played the sweet melody.

“I love you,” you sobbed. With Sweet Pea’s jacket in your grip, you sobbed your heart out. You made embarrassing sniffling noises, but who the fuck cared when you didn’t have him? “I love you.”

What did I do wrong?

The playing ceased for a mere moment but continued softly, lulling you into a bleak sleep.

————————————————————————

“Alright,” Archie said, taking long strides up to Fangs. “What the hell happened between Y/N and Sweet Pea?”

Fangs clenched his jaw but didn’t say anything.

“Really?”

Silence. Fangs shared a glance with Jughead and Toni, warning them not to say anything.

“Jughead? Please,” Archie took a step towards his best friend and boyfriend, but faltered when Jughead took a step back. They weren’t exactly on the best terms at the moment. Actually, they weren’t together.

Jughead had other things to focus on rather than spend time with his dear boyfriend, and Archie tried to accept that. He really did, but it never worked out.

Archie let out a shaky breath. “You know what? Fine. I’m sorry that I’ve been bothering you, but I’m not apologizing for being concerned over one of my best friends. You know what he was doing last night when I went to check up on him? He was sobbing, choking out ‘I love you’ over and over while hanging onto Sweet Pea’s jacket. So I’ll guess I won’t see you guys around.”

Toni and Fangs knew this was more than just what was going on between you and Sweet Pea. This was between Jughead and Archie.

“Also, I thought you cared. I really thought you guys fucking cared about Y/N, but I guess not. Snakes will always stick together.” No matter how much Fangs and Toni wanted to get angry at Archie, they couldn’t because it was true. You were supposed to be their friend too, but they’d just abandoned you.

Archie stomped off, only to fall against the lockers when he rounded the corner. He leaned his head back against the cold metal and sighed. Archie’s eyes fluttered close. He hoped this would end.

————————————————————————

“He asked about you today.” Sweet Pea looked up when Fangs entered the room. He blinked back at him. “Well, not directly but he still asked.”

Blink.

“You can’t just fucking sit here and expect me to feel sorry for you, especially when you never told me why the hell you and Y/N broke up.”

Blink. Breathe.

“Really? That’s how it’s going to be? Alright, Pea. I’m going to give it to you straight. You look pathetic, act pathetically, and smell pretty disgusting. I know you’re hurt about what happened, but it isn’t going to go away unless you do something. You don’t even have to confront Y/N if you don’t want to. For once, you could just straight up tell me what’s wrong!”

Drip. Drop. Tears slid down Sweet Pea’s cheeks. There was a reason he hadn’t told Fangs why he was single.

“I fucked it up,” Sweet Pea said. “I fucked up everything I had.”

Fangs stared at his best friend.

“He was so good to me, and I threw it all away.” Sweet Pea took a deep breath. “It started this one night when we were fighting.”

“How you could be so reckless?” Sweet Pea screamed.

“I don’t know what you’re fucking talking about,” you said, wrapping up your knuckles. You’d gotten into another fight today, the third one this week. You never told him what the fights were about, and he didn’t care. Sweet Pea only cared about your physical being. He’d been in numerous fights throughout his life, and he knew how dangerous it could be if you got in a fight with the wrong person.

Sweet Pea tanked your shoulder back. He was trying to see if you would react like he thought you would. “What? You’re not going to hit me too? Fight me like everyone else?”

Ouch. A pang went through your heart. You wished Sweet Pea cared enough to ask you why you were fighting. You wished he’d ask what was wrong because you’d never willingly tell him yourself.

You clenched your jaw and turned your head away from him. Your boyfriend gripped your shoulder tightly, releasing his grip only to bring his fist back.

Usually, you had good reflexes and would move away seconds before someone would try to hit you, but you stood there and took the punch. Sweet Pea stared at his bloody fist in shock. You should’ve ducked. You should’ve hit him back.

Blood dripped down your face, making tiny splatters on the pavement.

“I’m sorry. I thought, I-,” Sweet Pea reached for your face. “Why didn’t you move?”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

You wiped away the blood from your cut cheek. Sweet Pea’s ring, the one you gave him for his birthday, slashed your skin. It only added onto the collection of wounds.

You didn’t give an answer.

He faltered, his anger disappearing into disappointment. Sweet Pea shook his head, slowly backing up until his and touched the door of his trailer. Then your love retreated outside, and you were left standing in the trailer, head down and a dull ache in your cheek.

“I hit him,” Sweet Pea whimpered. “I fucking hit him, and I ran.”

“There’s gotta be more. You punched him in the nose once, and he still dated you.”

“You’re right. That wasn’t even the worst part.”

It’d been a week since you last saw Sweet Pea, and you were going insane. Your irritation levels were off the chart, and you would start a fight with the drop of a pen.

You had to do something, or else you’d fade away.

You pulled up in Sweet Pea’s driveway, seeing another motorcycle there that wasn’t his. You thought nothing of it, figuring it was Fangs.

“Sweets, look-,” you stopped. Joaquin placed his lips on Sweet Pea’s, your, well, you didn’t know now. He was holding him so tenderly, his hand on Sweet Pea’s hip under his shirt and the other caressing his face.

“Y/N.” You were so fucking angry at Joaquin. He was supposed to be your friend, your fucking friend. “I know this sounds candid, but it’s really not what it looks like. I would never cheat on you. EVER.”

Sweet Pea’s voice cracked. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be.

“Oh really?” you roared. “Enlighten me then, Sweet Pea. Tell me that you didn’t kiss Joaquin, that you didn’t just throw my trust away, that you’re not breaking my heart again and again! We’ve been together for two years now, but I guess that doesn’t mean anything to you if you can just throw everything we built away. I, I can’t- can’t do this.”

“Don’t run away, please,” Sweet Pea begged.

“Stop hurting me then.”

“You kissed Joaquin?” Fangs asked.

“No, it’s not like that.”

Fangs raised his eyebrow. How else could it be?

“Joaquin was the first person I’ve ever loved, and when he came around that night, he asked me if I still had feelings for him. Of course I said no, but he asked if he could kiss me to make sure. He said he’d leave me alone if I felt nothing. I felt bad, okay?”

“How the fuck did you feel bad?” Fangs asked, scrunching his face in displeasure.

“At the time, I wasn’t alright, not mentally at least. Joaquin had to leave Kevin, and he couldn’t get him back. He was lonely, Fangs, and I was stupid.” Sweet Pea sat with his head in his hands.

“Well what the fuck are you lying around here for? You love Y/N, right?” Fangs asked.

“Of course I do, but-,”

“But nothing, you dumb bitch.” Fangs rolled his eyes. “If you want him, go get him before it’s too late. Right now, he’s sobbing into your jacket at his house which he hasn’t left for three weeks. Pretty soon, the cops are gonna get called since he hasn’t been showing up for classes.”

“If I go to him, we’re just going to fight.”

“If you don’t go to him, we’re gonna fight,” Fangs snarled. He fisted Sweet Pea’s shirt and brought his face close. “A fight ain’t nothing within a lifetime of love and actually being happy for once in your shitty life.”

“Give me your keys,” Sweet Pea said after an intense staring match with Fangs.

“What?”

“Give. Me. Your. Keys.” Fangs stared at him ludicrously.

“Why the hell can’t you use your bike?”

“Because I haven’t driven mine in almost a month, Fangs. Please, dude.” Fangs sighed and begrudgingly handed his precious baby over to his best friend.

“When you’re done, give me my keys back. Jughead and I have someone to visit.”

As soon as the keys touched his hand, Sweet Pea sprinted to his bike. He quickly made his way over to your house, clambering up the steps to your front door with flowers in hand. There weren’t any flower shops open at this time of night, so he stole some from your neighbor’s yard. 

Sweet Pea rapped his knuckles against the door, hoping you would open it. Silence answered. Maybe you were asleep. He knocked again. 

The Serpent desperately looked around for a way into your house. He scaled the your rain gutters and tried to push the window up. Oddly enough, it was unlocked, and Sweet Pea was able to slide in easily. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” a raspy voice called. Sweet Pea whirled around and faced Archie. He looked like shit, not that Sweet Pea was any better. 

“I need Y/N.”

They stood in silence. Archie wiped the gathering pool of tears away with the sweater he was wearing. Whether it was Jughead’s or not was no one’s business. The ginger nibbled on his bottom lip, so none of his pained sounds would come out. 

Sweet Pea’s stance softened. He needed to get to the love of his life, but one of his friends was clearly distressed. Believe it or not, the raven haired boy grew to like tolerate Archie.

“Arch.” It was a special nickname that Sweet Pea would only say if they were alone. “What happened to you?”

The Bulldog broke down and slid down the door, bringing his knees to his chest. Sweets sat next to him, putting Archie’s head onto his shoulder. The two stayed like that until Archie calmed enough to speak. 

“You know, when you fuck up so badly, but you don’t even realize it? The next thing you know, the only person you’ve ever loved is fading away piece by piece.” Sweet Pea didn’t know what the ginger was on about, but in a way he did. 

“Yeah.”

“He’s at the Whyte Wyrm. Go.” Sweet Pea didn’t move. “I’ll be fine for now. I’ve waited four months. Another day won’t kill me.”

Sweet Pea gave his friend a quick hug before dashing out to the bike. He arrived back in Southside Riverdale in record time. 

He pushed the doors open to the bar and was met with the gaze of the bartender and a few Serpents. They seemed to understand what was going on and slinked to the back of the bar, disappearing from sight. 

“Y/N.” You’d never admit it, but it felt so fucking good so hear Sweet Pea say your name again. 

You gripped your drink tighter in your hand. You only had two sips of the bitter and burning liquid, but it was enough. 

“Y/N.” 

“Stop,” you begged. “Stop making this harder for me. If you don’t love me, please just leave.”

“I do love you,” Sweet Pea answered immediately. 

“Stop making snap decisions. That’s how we go here in the first place.” You hiccuped in the middle of the sentence. 

“You know what?” Sweet Pea said. He’d had enough. He’d show you how much you meant to him, how much you’d always mean to him. 

“What?” You snarled, slamming your hands down on the table. You assumed the worst. Splinters dug into your hands, but you couldn’t care less. The only thought running through your head was that you were losing the most important person in your life. “Fuck! There’s nothing you could say that you haven’t already said. You’ve made it pretty fucking clear how you feel about me. There’s nothing that you could say that I haven’t already thought of.

“I love you, Sweet Pea. I really do, but you can’t do this. You can’t love me as much as I love you because I’m not good enough, Sweets. I’m not good enough for you.” You hiccuped your whole way through your speech, breathing labored.

Sweet Pea turned and walked away. Maybe you were right. Maybe he had to find someone else, so that he wouldn’t damage you any further. As he began to stalk off, your hiccups and sobs rang through the room. It made him falter. He’d hurt you enough. When would he learn?

But he was never good with listening to others.

“I can do whatever the hell I want.” He yanked you into his arms, pressing your foreheads together. “You’ve always been good enough for me. You’re everything. I don’t feel right when you’re not around. My chest aches, and my head pounds. Whenever I’m with you, though, it’s like I’m shooting fireworks. It’s like I’m diving off a cliff. It’s like. . . It’s like I understand the reason why Romeo would kill himself to be with Hamlet or however the fuck that goes.

“I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry I left you, sweetheart. I’m so sorry that I kissed Joaquin. I’m sorry I hit you. I should’ve never left you, should’ve never been such a jackass. ‘m so sorry.”

You were both a sobbing mess now, crying into each other. 

“I love you,” you said. You held onto Sweet Pea tightly as if he would vanish. 

“I should’ve done this a long time ago.” Sweet Pea kneeled and pressed kisses to your hands. “Y/N L/N, I know we’ve been together for a while now, and I know that this is possibly the worst time to do this, but I can’t live without you, can’t think without you. I’m not me without you, and I frankly don’t know how I survived before I met you. Will you marry me?”

You burst into sobs once again, bringing his lips to yours. He was yours, and you were his once again: the dynamic duo. 

EXTRA (feat. Jarchie)

After the emotional mess in the bar, you and Sweet Pea went to Pop’s to talk things out. Pop immediately noticed the ring adorning your finger and gave you two celebratory burgers on the house. 

“They were makin’ fun of you, Sweets. I couldn’t let them do that.” You sat as close as possible to Sweet Pea, nuzzling him. This was where you belonged. 

“It’s okay, baby. They can say whatever the fuck they want. I have everything I could ever want right here.”

Sweet Pea called Fangs and gave his keys back, and Fangs drove to Jughead’s house. 

“Open up motherfucker.” Fangs banged on the door. Jughead swung the door open and glared at the other Serpent. “What the hell was that between you and Northside prince today?”

“It’s none of your fucking business.” Fangs felt like all his friends were fucking idiots, and he was the only sane and logical one. 

“Listen, you edgy whore. I know it’s none of my business, but you’re miserable. You’ve been on edge for a few months now, and everybody’s sick of your shit. I’m pretty sure your angst is contagious, so man the fuck up and go get your stupid ass ginger. We clear? After that, I’ll buy you a month worth’s of burgers.”

Jughead’s hard exterior cracked, and he left to find his redhead. “Thanks, man.”

A week later when the two couples walked in Riverdale High, everyone’s heads turned. Fangs should do this for a living. 

[walkerduchess]

A Game of Hearts - Chapter One: Unveiled (The Royal Romance AU)

Pairing: Drake x MC [Liam x MC]

Notes: Firstly, thanks to everyone who read the prologue and left lovely comments! This is chapter one to my TRR AU series, A Game of Hearts. Apparently I can’t write in a linear timeline so this story will contain a lot of flashbacks throughout the chapters. Again, english is not my native language so I apologize if there’s any mistakes, and I would love to know what you think!

I do not own these characters, they belong to Pixelberry. 

Summary: Princess Sapphire struggles in her heart as she takes the next step towards fulfilling her duty to the kingdom. A dark secret threatens to be revealed in the castle.

Content Warning: Mentions of blood and death.

Word Count: 2993

Tagging: I only tag people who explicitly ask me to. If you want in or out the list just speak up!  @confessionsofabrokegirl, @museofbooks, @stopforamoment, @scarlettedragon

Prologue: Promised

Chapter One: Unveiled

Sophie sits in the dresser inside her chambers staring at the mirror, ink on her fingers, eyes narrowed.

“Does it look symmetrical?” she asks, examining both sides of her face in the mirror, trying to find imperfections on the golden pattern she drew right beneath her eyes.  

“Does it matter?” her cousin snaps back.

“Max…” the princess sighs, controlling her irritation “you know you can tell me what’s wrong instead of taking it out on me.” She turns around and looks at his cousin, sitted in her settee.

“I’m sorry, I’m just… tired of all this, I think.” He motions to his own painted face and formal clothes.

“What?” the young woman brings her hand to her chest in mock surprise “Are you telling me Lord Maxwell is tired of parties?” She jokes, but in reality she‘s worried about him. Ever since his parents died and his brother became the representant of his family in the council of holders, he’s out of place. The joyful boy, her best friend, has been quieter than ever in the last months, and nothing she would do or say seems to help.

“It’s not about the festivities, it’s about the protocols, celebrations and everything else we do here like war isn’t unfolding right outside our door for the past century.” Max’s balls his fists as he tries to contain his anger.

Sophie closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. She really doesn’t want to argue with him about this. Not today.

“I’m sorry Sophie. I didn’t intend to darken the mood on your birthday.” He forces a smile “Your face is magnificent, as always.” His tone has gone back to normal, cheerful. Although the smile he wears doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “So, you’re 21. Does that mean you’ll finally get introduced to the people?”

“No.” She replies, resent in her voice. “The king thinks it’s wise to keep me unseen until I’m married. Today only means I’ll get formally engaged.”

“What?” Max’s voice reaches a high pitch. “Why didn’t I know about this?”

“Because it changes nothing. I’ve been betrothed all my life, remember?” She looks up at him, annoying look in her eyes.

“Not this, I mean” Max started, “are people supposed to meet you only when you’re their queen?” The crease between his brows appears again, making his dissatisfaction obvious.

“I don’t agree with this as much as I don’t agree with this war.” Her eyes turned serious “But I am powerless for now, and it’s not like I can stage a riot here, not now that there’s this new evil queen in the south.”

“Well” the young man recomposes himself, standing up from the settee, “we can dwell on never-ending wars and evil queens in another time. For now,” he walks to stand behind the princess, resting his hands on her shoulders and locking eyes with her through the mirror in front of them “we have an engagement to attend to.”

The girl nods at him before closing her eyes and taking a long breath.

-

As she is escorted from her chambers, Sophie can’t fathom her own nervousness. She is betrothed to Liam since she can remember. This is only a formality, after all. So why is she dreading every step that draws her closer to the hall where the ceremony is taking place, closer to being engaged?

She lets her mind wander to when she was just a little girl, dreaming of marrying not just a prince, but Prince William of the East. How happy she was when she got to meet him and spend time with him, how badly she wanted him to like her. In her young girl’s mind, he was perfect. As she goes down the staircase to the main hall of the castle, she chuckles to herself. He isn’t far from perfect, really. He’s handsome, strong and gentle, and truly cares for her.

Her father, King Brandon, is waiting for her at the end of the staircase. The black ink in his forehead and temples does a good job of masking the wrinkles that have now accentuated in his face. He smiles when he sees her. “You look so much like your mother.” She smiles too. She wishes so badly her mom was there. Queen Aurora would definitely know what to say to make her feel better.

She walks to the middle of the hall held in her father's arm. The room seems empty, in comparison to how crowded it gets during open events. There is basically their families and the castle staff. She looks around to see if there’s someone new, as she never really gets to meet much people. In that moment she thinks about her friends, the ones she had when she was younger, about a decade ago. It would be nice having friends other than Max. And Liam, she supposes. What would Hana and Drake look like today? It has been years since she thought about them, although sometimes Liam talks about Drake, so she supposes he is still living at Thorngate Castle.

Her thoughts are interrupted when Liam comes out from the small crowd surrounding them. As he walks up to her she can’t help but admire the way his dark-blue coat fits perfectly in his muscled torso and how a single, thick line of black ink that comes from each side of his head to his temples accentuates his determined gaze.

Only in his mind he knows how nervous he is, but on the outside he can look so confident all the time that no one would never doubt him. And he would never let anyone know how vulnerable he can be, well, anyone but Drake. His selfish side wants to be angry at his best friend for not being here, but he knows Drake is doing the right thing looking for his sister. The other side of him feels bad for not being able to be there for his friend after Savannah disappeared a couple of weeks ago. He can’t follow Drake looking for her, but at least his father gave him the liberty of sending some of his guards with him.

Liam shakes his thoughts away and stops in front of the princess. His breath catches when he looks at her, the most beautiful woman he ever laid eyes upon. Her light-brown hair falls in modest curls over her shoulders, covered by a sleeved rose dress that falls down to her feet. He can’t remember the last time he saw her in a dress, and it sure makes her look somewhat fragile, but he knows better than that. Princess Sapphire is anything but fragile.

He knows this is an arranged marriage, but he can’t help but thank the Last Prophets in his mind for promising her to him. As far as he knows, he has done nothing to deserve who he reckons to be the most incredible woman in the new world. Would she ever let him in completely? He never told her, but he can tell there are things in her mind that she doesn’t share with him. And that’s what he wants her to know, that he is in for all of her, ready to love her entirely.

He kneels in front of her, taking one of her hands in his own and placing the ring in it with his other hand. She places her other hand in his and they hold each other’s hands like that. “Accept this, not only as a birthday present, but as a symbol of our commitment to unite our lives in one, as well as our kingdoms in one.” He recites, staring directly in her eyes.

She forces herself to smile. It isn’t hard, looking into his blue eyes, overflowing with joy to see her hearing these words from him. She feels guilty her eyes wouldn’t shine for him the same way. But she convinces herself she will love him, she can do it. He deserves to be loved, and right then, staring into his eyes, she swears to herself that with time, she will learn to give him her soul. And they will be each other's strength in the challenge that awaited them ever since they were born.

He stands and places the ring on her finger. She looks up at him, they both know what to do next. They lean into each other and their lips meet in the middle, followed by a round of applause from the crowd.

It’s a ceremonial kiss, unlike the ones they have shared previously. Not that they’ve kissed too many times, but Sophie’s favourite one occurred two years ago, when he came in the library while she read a book from before.

The prince knows where to find her. He’s so happy he gets to surprise her, for it’s been almost a month since he last came to Stormholt castle. Though the trip from Thorngate lasted barely an hour with their new, more efficient cars, now that he’s of age, his several new duties kept him in the East, unable to take a break. He walks through tall wooden doors into the outstanding library - it would be completely ordinary if it wasn’t for Princess Sapphire. She’s probably the only one that comes here these days, and he’s sure also the only one to have read all the books retrieved from before and stored in the castle. The library is large, with books covering three of its four walls, in shelves that go up to the roof, about five meters high.

As he guessed, she’s sitted in a brown divan in the middle of the library, eyes fixated in a book in her lap.

“Let me guess. Third time reading that one?” His voice startles her, and she smiles when she spots him walking in her direction.

“Liam! You actually managed to scare me, because really, nobody comes here.”

“Then, my goals have been achieved. Surprise!” She laughs, staring at his handsome figure walking towards her.

Liam gazes at the pile of books on the table beside the princess. The horse-shaped figure on top of the books fills him with nostalgia and he smiles. He takes a step closer to grasp the chess piece in his hand. Sophie follows his every move with her eyes.

“I used to find it funny... you being the knight, you know. In my mind, you were always the queen.” He looks up at her warm eyes, smiling at him. “Though it would be right for you to be the king, the crucial one, always protected... you always managed to take the lead.” He puts the piece back on the pile and moves to sit in front of her, taking both her hands from the heavy looking book in her lap, to hold them in his. “Besides,” he continues, bringing her hands to his mouth to kiss each one, softly “you are the most talented person in this entire kingdom.”

He lets go of her hands and she takes the book in her lap, placing it in the table and shifting so she can sit upright. “What have I done to earn such lovely and profound words?” the young woman brings one hand up to touch the side of his face and flashes him a genuine smile. It was rare to see him carefree like that, and she really enjoys it.

Liam feels confident, for that smile of hers was always a hard one to get. “Oh,” he smirks mischievously at her “you haven’t done anything. You’re in debt to me now.”

“Is that so?” she joins his playful tone “Then pray tell me what I owe you so I can change that.”

“A kiss” he stares at her, hoping he doesn't sound desperate.

She feels her body suddenly warm at his directness as she peers into his blue, intense eyes. She sees desire in them, and her own reflection. Instinctively, she leans closer to him, hand still in the side of his face when their mouths join together. Liam’s hand press in her back, pulling her even closer to him.

He pulls back to look at her again “I see why you’re the knight though.”

“Why, now?” she giggles.

“Because” he almost whispers, his breath on her lips “the knight can make moves that even the queen cannot.” Before she can say anything, his lips are back on hers, and the sweet kiss turns into a very passionate one.

After a while, Sophie finds herself  lying on her back, Liam on top of her, mouths never leaving one another, bodies pressed together. Her hands pull slightly on his dark blonde hair when, suddenly, he pulls back and stands up. Confused, she sits up and stares at him. “What is it?”

She regards his face. The playful, carefree Liam is gone, only a sober, slightly sad look on his eyes now. “I- I’m sorry, Sophie. I didn’t mean to…” his cheeks blush. He doesn't know whether to curse his heart or his consciousness for what just happened. He really wishes they weren’t so conflicted.

“Liam,” she stood up to look into his eyes, placing her hands on his shoulders “there is no problem.” You wouldn’t be my first, she wants to add, but doesn’t. The righteous Prince William would never make love to her before they are officially together, especially not out here in a library. She knows that, and it makes her feel once again unworthy of him. No, she cannot tell him about her teenage adventures with a couple of young guards from the castle. Although it never meant anything, it would only disappoint him and break his heart.

The newly engaged couple part and they both regard the people around them, trained smiles on. Now, it’s time to feist.

-

Sophie sits in the end of a big stone table in the main hall of the castle. Liam sits beside her and Max next to them, in the side of the table. Behind them, in the back of the hall where the floor rises two steps above, stands the throne, which King Brandon occupies. The identical chair beside him, where Queen Aurora once seated, stands empty. Even now, almost seven years from the queen’s death, the sight of the king, sunken on a chair that seems to grow bigger day by day on contrast with his undermining frame, inspires grief in anyone who observes the empty place beside him.

At least during festivities such as this, the sounds of cheerful talk and clinking plates and cups fill the hall with lightness and joy. Sophie sips ale from her third cup of the night as she absently listens to Max, who is talking to Liam while stealing some bites from his lamb meat. “... no, that was the proposition Lady Olivia suggested me the other night in Thorngate Castle.”

“Wait.” The princess coughs after almost choking with her drink “Are you talking about Lady Olivia as in… Liv? From when we were children?” She looks up at Liam, who is now sitting closer than she remembers, with one arm stretched across the back of her seat.

“Yes” he replies with a smile. His eyes are sleepy and his cheeks are flushed. Looks like he’s had his good share of ale, but he’s allowed it, she thinks, after all it’s his engagement they are celebrating. Plus, it always warms her heart to see him light-hearted and happy.

“‘Does she still live with you in Thorngate?” The princess asks, looking at Liam.

“She went back to her family’s castle when she came of age last year.” Max tells her, having finally finished eating and cleaning his hands in a towel. “But that’s still in the east, so…”

“You haven’t talked about her in years!”

“Sophie, we…” Max turns his whole body towards her and takes her hand is his both. “We don’t talk much about the people we meet outside this castle because you… well, you have to stay here. And we don’t want you to feel bad.” His eyes are on her, cautious.

“Thank you” she says, gazing each one of the men, “but I want to know what happens in the kingdom that I will eventually rule, even if I can’t be there.”

“That can be arranged.” Liam says slowly, nodding at her.

Sophie is so focused on the conversation with the two men that it takes a few moments for her to hear the change in the ambient noise. It starts with distant voices slowly raising their volumes, eventually she can discern screaming and turns to look at whatever is taking place. Then, the next events occur all too fast.

A woman, covered in dirt and blood, tottering towards the king while everyone around her distance themselves. Her hair is damp, the princess can’t tell if it’s from water or blood. There are red and black stains all over the woman’s clothes.

Without thinking about it, Sophie’s feet carries her through the crowd, eyes fixated on the weak looking figure. Suddenly there’s a cutting sound and the woman drops to the ground. Sophie finally gets to front of the small crowd and runs to kneel beside the woman, her movements almost automatic. An arrow is jabbed through the woman’s back. The princess reaches down to check if there’s anything she can do to help but realizes the woman is dead.

Confused and shocked, she raises her head and looks around, only to glimpse a man in a guard uniform with a bow in his hand, which she assumes is the one that shot the arrow. Everyone else is just staring at her. She wants to scream but her voice falters, why isn’t anyone doing something? However, before she manages to catch enough air in her lungs, her vision is suddenly blocked by the legs of another guard which appear in front of her, and the feel of his hands holding her by her shoulders and carrying her away.

[magic-and-moonlit-wings]

Chapter 5: On The Subject Of Expectations

Becoming The Mask 

"Have you ever even held a sword before?" Draal demanded the next night.

"I'm more of a knife guy."

Jim could pass that off as a cooking joke if questioned, but it was true. The scale of the blade he had to work with now was throwing him off almost as badly as fighting in humanoid form.

He was confident enough that Draal wouldn't kill him – or, at least, that Blinky and AAARRRGGHH wouldn't stand idly by and let Draal kill him – that he offered the sword to the troll.

"Show me how I'm supposed to hold it, then."

Draal's eyes widened and he actually took half a step back.

"Ah, Master Jim," Blinky cautioned from the sidelines, "only a Trollhunter can wield the Sword of Daylight."

Jim ignored this and held the sword flat across both hands. Draal took it, slowly, cautiously, with more fear and reverence in his expression than Jim thought the sword really warranted even if it was magic. When Draal raised the blade above his head, it shone blue, and vanished from his hand in a burst of glowing smoke. It reappeared in Jim's hand, like the amulet had when he first tried to leave it with Stricklander.

"The sword is bound to the amulet," said Blinky. "It is not that only the Trollhunter may wield it, but that only the Trollhunter can."

Draal and Jim both winced.

"I'm … sorry," said Jim.

Draal sighed heavily. He walked over to the side of the Forge. Jim thought at first that he was storming off to be alone with his thoughts, but Draal came back with a double-pronged spear, or maybe a pole arm, from the weapons rack. He tested a few strikes against the empty air, and then pointed it at Jim.

"Your blade is but an extension of your body," he said sternly. "And your body, an extension of your eyes. Mimic my movements, Trollhunter."

"I'm almost impressed," said Draal, a few nights later. "I didn't think a fleshbag could survive this level of pummelling."

"You actually … getting tired?" Jim tried to taunt. It was ruined by his wheezing. Draal had successfully run him over three times so far in this match. "Admit it … I'm … wearing you down."

Draal laughed at him.

"Trollhunter!" A shouting woman ran into the Forge, waving her arms above her head. "TROLLHUNTER!" Blinky and AAARRRGGHH rushed to her.

"What is it? Speak, Bagdwella!"

She panted. Jim walked over, trying not to stumble. Draal gave him a sideways glance that could be creatively interpreted as concern.

"Rr … ruh … rogue gnome!"

"So, I learned something interesting about the Amulet last night. Apparently the teleportation thing it was doing is only if the Trollhunter rejects it. If somebody steals it, it doesn't just poof back to me."

"Someone stole the Amulet?"

"I got it back." He'd tempted the creature out of the hole with a candy bar, and stuffed it into a sack and stuffed the sack into a battered metal lunchbox. In order to retrieve her own things, the shopkeeper had been willing to have the wall carved open to get to the gnome's stash. "I'm just saying, that's kind of a counter-intuitive design feature. Thought it might come in handy when Bular kills me and the Amulet picks somebody else."

"Bular is not going to kill you."

It was comforting to hear Stricklander say that. Hearing that stern, parental tone, Jim could almost believe that he could turn to the more experienced Changeling for protection from Gunmar's son, and actually expect to receive that protection.

After school, he was faced with the gnome problem again.

It was secured in its box and very loudly unhappy about it. It had given up shouting and crashing into the walls, and was now singing a lament to the accompaniment of its odd guitar, or whatever the instrument was.

Jim had never had a pet, but the gnome's earlier behaviour reminded him of things he'd heard about ferrets. He was going to feel bad over killing the cute, clever little thief. He really should have done it already, but … as one being that trolls considered vermin to another, he wasn't sure he could go through with it. He hadn't directly, personally killed anything since leaving the Darklands.

He put it off by doing homework and reading more troll lore. Eventually the gnome went quiet. Jim thought it fell asleep.

Considering he had compared it to a ferret earlier, he should have expected it to escape.

Considering how up-and-down his luck had been lately, he really should have expected it to get out his window, drop off the porch roof, and make a run for Toby's house across the street.

Having known each other for ten years, Jim and Toby tended to let themselves in to each other's houses rather than knocking and waiting. Jim went right after the gnome, praying Toby was out and Nana Domzalski was immersed in one of her shows.

He almost caught it in the front hall. It darted into a rain boot that was lying on its side. Jim picked the boot up, but the gnome popped right back out as he was trying to cover the top of the boot with his forearm. It jumped to the ground and he turned the boot over, slamming it down like a glass on a spider, and missing the gnome by a hair.

In the kitchen, he dropped to all fours to follow it under the table and wondered if he should risk switching forms for faster reflexes. He could switch back if he heard Nana or Toby coming.

Before he could make a decision, the gnome jumped from the chairs it had been hopping back and forth between onto Jim's head, yanking his hair on landing, and then onto the floor and scuttled behind the fridge. Without AAARRRGGHH, Jim couldn't move something that heavy.

Well, maybe in his armour he could – he had suspicions it increased his strength, considering the size of the sword – but did he really need a magical suit of armour just to catch one lousy crafty gnome?

He waited by the fridge for it to come out again.

"Jimmy!" Nana Domzalski greeted him. Because of course she was here, in her own house, in the late evening, on a weeknight. "What a nice surprise. I think Toby-Pie is upstairs."

"Thanks, Mrs Domzalski," he said as easily as he could. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the gnome make a break for it and, conveniently and terribly, run up the quarter round of the staircase. "I'll just head on up."

Toby essentially had the entire upper story to himself. He was in his bedroom, staring enchanted at the gnome, which was playing its guitar.

"Aren't you just the best tiny musician in the world?" he whispered. "With such a cute pointy hat –" It bared its fangs at him and he recoiled, falling back on his bed and scrambling away. "And pointy teeth!"

"Toby!" Damn secrecy! Jim was pretty sure gnomes were carnivorous; he didn't want to drag his best friend to the hospital with mysterious bite wounds!

"Jim, did you see that?" The gnome ran again with a chittering giggle and disappeared into a pile of video games. "It was just there! Like a tiny lawn gnome, with a guitar, and fangs!"

"I saw it too, Tobes."

The undercover thing would be to lie and try to grab the gnome without Toby noticing. But Toby had seen the gnome. He hadn't had his phone out to record the musical performance, but he couldn't be put off by being told he'd imagined it. It would be easier to catch with Toby's help. Jim just had to keep Toby from finding out anything else and from comparing notes with Elijah Pepperjack in the aftermath.

The guitar started playing in the dollhouse. Jim held his finger to his lips and Toby nodded. As quietly as they could, they approached the dollhouse and peered into the tiny windows.

"Aw," Toby crooned. "He made a friend." The gnome was serenading a Sally-Go-Back action figure.

"When I say so," said Jim, "you pull the dollhouse open and I'll grab him."

"Come on, Jim, look at the little guy! He sounds so happy. Soul of an artist in that one."

It did seem docile for the moment …

"I just don't think it's safe," was the best Jim could offer without breaking at least one of his covers.

"I'm gonna name him Gnome Chompsky," said Toby.

"You're not serious. You're not keeping it."

"Man, I wish we could tell people about this, but poor Chompsky'd probably bolt again if too many 'giants' like us started crowding him, am I right?"

"You're actually serious."

"Come on, Jim! This is the coolest thing that's ever happened to me! I promise if he bites me I'll drop him down the garbage disposal and you can say you told me so."

Jim returned the empty sack and lunchbox to Bagdwella later that night and let her assume he was, indeed, a 'gnome slayer'.

Previous Chapter (Kanjigar, Vendel, the Heartstone, and Draal)

Table of Contents

Next Chapter (A visit to the Janus Order)

If you’re confused about the ‘ten years’ comment, Toby says in the birthday episode, “I had just moved in to the house across the street, and Jim’s dad got him this sweet bike kit for his fifth birthday ... and then he just took off.” So, in canon, Toby and Jim met when they were five. 

I HAVE FEELINGS about the scene where Jim and Draal are training together and Jim offers Draal a chance to try out the Sword of Daylight and it vanishes out of Draal’s hand and Jim tries to apologize for the magic sword’s behaviour. [My impressions are detailed here.]

I thought about killing Gnome Chompsky off, to demonstrate the difference in character between Changeling!Jim and canon!Jim, but that scene stopped working when I actually got into Jim’s motives and feelings, so this happened.

[justjen523]

The Birthday Blunder

For: goddess-of-leo  (Happy Birthday!)

Raiting M

Reader x Leon

For Fun I am also working on an art piece that shows Leon in his Kingly form. I will post it when I am finished. Hope you enjoy!

     It was a disaster. Everything that had been so carefully planned for weeks was ruined in a mere moment. Speechless I just stood in the doorway of the living room with my mouth agape and my eyes filling with tears. Yet somehow I still managed to go unnoticed as the gods quarreled among themselves. The beautiful cake I handmade because I wanted to share this special day for me with the twelve gods who had become such an intricate part of my life decorated many areas of the room. The decorations tattered, even what had appeared to be presents were trampled and all I could do was stand there in complete shock.

     “W-Why?” I finally asked yet my voice was so quiet amidst the loud insults and profanity being exchanged mere feet away. By some miracle Aigonorous was the one to hear me and pointed to where I was standing. As one by one each head turned in my direction the previously chaotic room fell quiet.

     “Goldfish. What are you doing here, you’re supposed to still be working.” Leon actually had the nerve to look agitated by my unannounced arrival. I could feel the anger rising within as I looked around at the destruction and lack of remorse from everyone. They truly must not understand how much time and effort when into all of this. It was MY birthday and here I was thinking of them instead of myself and this is the thanks I get? I couldn’t swallow my anger any further.

     “Animals!”

     “I beg your pardon?” Zyglavis says incredulously.

     “All of you! Behaving like animals!”

     “What did you call me?!” For once Scorpio’s glare didn’t even register to me.

     “Now hold on, I get why you’re angry but it’s not that big of a deal - “ Leon started to say but the hurt was bubbling over especially hearing my boyfriend’s careless indifference. 

     “Not that big of a deal?! How dare you!” Looking around they all stared at me in surprise. I had never yelled or scolded Leon in front of the other’s before. 

     “Wooooow. She’s like REAAAALLY scary when she’s mad.” Ichthys tries whispering to Dui but it’s not like I couldn’t hear it in the silence of the room.

     “I....” Realizing my birthday was ruined and they didn’t even seem to care the anger gave way to hurt. All at once my emotions poured out in the form of tears and I began to sob.

     “Now look what you guys have done...” Leon sounded angry but I knew he was shaken. He hated when I cried because of something he had done but more than that, he hated when I cried in front of anyone other than him.

     “Us? I believe you are equally to blame.” Huedhaut boldly replied earning a fiercely angry look from the ruler of Leo.

     “I.....*sob* think I.....*hic*....” I stopped before saying the next word. Even now I am still always putting their feelings before my own.

     “You what?” Krioff asked brusquely only further breaking my heart.

     “I...wish I never met you. Any of you!” There, I said it even though I absolutely did not mean it but I was sick of always being the considerate one. I wanted them to feel it like I did and I couldn’t think of another way even if it was harsh and cruel sounding. 

     I had been staring at my feet but when I looked up I was surprised at what I saw. Twelve truly pained and heartbroken expressions stared directly at me. I wanted so badly to apologize and take it back but if I did they would never learn and this kind of stuff would continue to happen. I couldn’t handle it anymore.

     “I’m going home, I can’t stand to be here anymore.” Tears still streaming down my face I turned to leave.

     “Goldfish.” His voice was gentle and full of sadness. I knew it hurt him more than any of the others but that pain had gone both ways. I thought of all of them he would have understood better than anyone how important this all had been to me.

     “I...just want to be alone. All alone, in my apartment, on my birthday.” I quickly made my way toward the exit but was impeded by the door abruptly closing and locking from the other side. I knew it was his handiwork but I didn’t even bother to turn around.

     “Let me pass.”

     “I can’t do that. Not like this.”

     “I don’t want to - “

     “- be around us I know, you already said so.”

     “Then let me go.”

     “Not until we make this right.” At his words I slowly turn to face him. He slowly crosses the room almost apprehensively but pushes forward till we are face to face. I can see the realization of the pain they caused in his beautiful eyes. He gently runs the back of his hand down my tear stained cheek.

     “I will grant whatever your heart desires. Just tell me what you want. I...don’t want to see you like this anymore. I’m......”

     “...you’re what?” He’ll never do it. Impossible. He stares at me intently for a few moments before furrowing his brow and sighing deeply.

     “Look, I’m sorry. You’re right, what we did was...”

     “....stupid? Immature? Ridiculous?” I was laying it on pretty thick even though the unthinkable had just happened.

     “D-Did Leon seriously just apologize to someone?” Hearing that he glared at the culprit before turning back to me.

     “Yeah, we were acting like - “

     “Animals.” I finished his sentence crossing my arms in front of me.

     “We get it. Everyone’s sorry, right guys?” His dangerously intense stare caused apology after apology from every god in the room.

     “What can I do to make you smile?” He asks tenderly. Still slightly aggravated I try to think of a way for them to make it up to me. Staring into his eyes I can’t help but think the same thing I always do. How handsome and though arrogant I have come to find his royalty vibe endearing. He made all of the other Zodiac gods apologize to me, a mere human with nothing more than a look. ‘My Leon. My brave and fearsome Lion....’ If only he were able to be tamed like a Lion. How adorable would that be? My own personal big bad kitty. Teehee!

**POOF**

     Out of nowhere a cute little box with a big pink bow manifests out of thin air right in my hands.

     “What on Earth?” As soon as I begin to pull the ribbon Leon’s face turns ashen.

     “Goldfish don’t - “ But it’s too late, inside the box is a tiny piece of paper that simply says,

     “Happy Birthday,  From the King.” ‘Huh?’ All of the sudden the room is engulfed in a blinding light and I shield my eyes waiting for it to pass. When it does the sight before me is so ridiculously precious and adorable I can’t help the giggling that follows. 

     “O-Oh my gosh! You guys are...all SO cute! Eeee!” I sound like a little kid but I can’t help it, seeing them like this makes it impossible not to smile from ear to ear.

     “Goddamn that bastard. Stupid woman! Why the hell did you open that?!” Scorpio is so adorable that his words don’t even sound frightening to me.

     “Ummm. Seriously though, why cats?” Krioff blushes looking put out as his white ears turn backward in distress. 

     “This is great! Teo and Ikky pull each other’s tail’s to see if it hurts when they do so.

     “Wow! These tails are SO real!”

     “Why just ears and tails though?” Dui ponders as the rest of the gods are all touching their new additions.

     It isn’t till I actually get a good look at Leon that my heart nearly gives out. He looks utterly PISSED but is so cute it’s actually fitting. Not only does he have the ears and tale but he also has a mane.

     “Teehee.”

     “Don’t you dare laugh. This is all your fault. You better figure out how to turn me back. Now.” A giant smile spreads across my face.

     “Nuh-uh. You said you would grant any wish my heart desired. I want to enjoy seeing all of you like this for the rest of the day! You all still owe me a party anyway right?” I am beaming, what a great gift from the King! I know I am going to pay dearly for it later but oh it is SO worth it.

     “You’re awfully bold demanding such nonsense from gods.” Zyglavis as always is angry but it comes across adorably as his fluffy purplish tail flicks sharply back and forth. 

     “Teeheehee. Somehow you don’t seem as scary to me now Zyglavis. You’re fluffiness makes you look much kinder.” I can’t stop myself from scratching behind his ear making him blush so hard it just makes it even cuter.

      “You can pet me too if you want.” Ichthys offers playfully before getting a scowl that actually makes Leon look like a beast rather than a cute animal. I approach him and though he looks angry I see relief in his eyes to see me smiling.

     “Don’t even think about it.” He grumbles as I start to reach out to touch him. 

     “Call it what you will but I am not your pet.” I try hard to suppress the laughter threatening to pour out.

     “Awww, who’s my big bad kitty?” I say in a teasing way earning me a death glare but it quickly gives way to a devious smirk.

     “You’re awfully brave, you do realize that Lions often enjoy eating seafood. You must have a death wish goldfish.” ‘Eeeep! That grin is extra scary with him looking this predatory.’ As he begins to close in on me I begin to shrink away but when I notice his tail waving around playfully something different pops into my mind altogether. ‘He’s still got a man’s body....I wonder....’

     “Pffft. You’re thinking about something pretty bold.” His words snap me back to reality and causes me to blush deeply even as I try desperately to deny it.

     “I....” Before I can finish I hear a commotion  behind me. The gods have been taking turns testing to see if their powers could undo the King’s spell but as always he’s one step ahead making that impossible. 

     “If we have to look this ridiculous why doesn’t she join us.” Scorpio smirks darkly. The gods all grin and nod in amusement as they close in on me. I slowly back away before calling for Leon. When I turn to face him I am surprised to see him actually looking like he approves of the others idea. 

     “N-Now just hold on a minute! T-this isn’t it...” 

**SNAP**

     Leon is actually the one who does it making the whole thing kinda of embarrassing as the others all look at me the same way I was previously looking at them. 

     “Woooow! He even gave her a cute little nose and whiskers!” Ichthys grins from ear to ear. 

     “Ohhh! She has paws too!” Dui gushes making me feel like I am going to die from embarrassment.

     “My my Leon, what a lucky man you are tonight.” The way Partheno says that makes me somehow uncomfortable. When I turn to look at my boyfriend he is looking the most entertained I have ever seen him.

     “What? This is what you wanted.” He says smugly giving me that smile I want to simultaneously smack and kiss him for. Instead I am handed a mirror to see my new....attire. 

     “H-Hey! What’s with the cute stuff?! Couldn’t you have made me, I don’t know, like a sexy cat?”

     “What’s wrong with the way you are? I prefer you this way. Besides, it suits you better.” ‘! What’s that supposed to mean!?’

     “Well I must admit, Leon doesn’t strike me as the kind who likes pink.” Partheno says suggestively.

     “You shouldn’t be thinking about what I like at all you pervert.” As the two go back and forth I again look at my reflection in the mirror. I don’t look exactly like the others. I’m more feline than they are and even some of my human features have changed simply to match the rest. Everything is pink. My fluffy ears, fluffy tail, my eyes, my hair, my paws, even my clothes have been changed into a cute little pink ensemble. I had no idea my boyfriend was into such things! ‘Ahaha! Happy Birthday to ME!’

     As I look over at Leon being aggressive in his current state I can’t help but feel more attracted to him than usual. I slowly move closer to him and once I’m close enough I feel this overwhelming urge to nuzzle against him. When I do he immediately tenses and I can see a faint blush on his cheeks and for some reason I actually start purring. 

     “Looks like your stupid woman’s in heat, better handle that before someone else does.” Scorpio’s comment causes a slew of arguments and having had enough Leon wraps his arm around me and snaps.

     He brought us to his room in the Heaven’s without so much as a word but when I looked up to see his face he didn’t look angry like I expected. No, he was looking at me like I was dessert. I swallowed thickly slowly backing away making him laugh.

     “Do you honestly believe you can escape me? I’d actually like to see you try.” He was smiling at me wickedly causing a sweet rush of sensation through me. I was terrified but equally turned on somehow. I liked when he was dominating and seeing him aggressively hunting me was intoxicating. 

     “Obey me and come here.” There was no way I could refuse him. Not when he was looking at me this way. Slowly I made my way till I was directly in front of him, a mere breath apart. Even now he still had such a powerful commanding presence. 

     “That’s my good girl.” Then he started petting me. Everywhere. God did it feel GOOD. Too good. I was becoming putty in his hands.

     “L-Leon.......unnnh.” I felt like I was high. Utterly intoxicated.

     “That’s right, give in. Purr for me.” His sensual sexy voice was lulling me further into this strange heady haze I was feeling. My vision was blurring and I felt dizzy but in a strangely good way. His arms scooped me up and carried me to his bed where he gently laid me down before hovering over me. My desire for him was overwhelming as it was somehow amplified but this euphoric feeling washing over me.

     “L-Leon I....I feel....”

     “Good then it’s working.”

     “H-huh? What’s....mmm....working?” I was trying desperately to hold on and not lose myself but I was failing miserably.

     “This.” He smiles mischievously and opens his mouth to reveal a tiny purple flower with a few leaves still attached. Confused I blinked starting to become unable to speak.

     “Since you were enjoying this feline fantasy of yours so very much I thought I’d have a little fun of my own. You’re feeling the effects of this plant. I believe it’s what you humans refer to as catnip.” ‘Wh-Whaaa?’

     “Don’t worry, I’m gonna make you feel so good you’re going to beg me to never turn you back.” Without another word he playfully nipped my neck before removing our clothes with a snap. As he entered me my head tipped back at the exquisite sensation and let out a quiet gasp. There’s a tenderness behind his eyes and no longer able to fight it I give myself over to him mind, body and soul.

     “I am sorry for what happened earlier. It was not my intention to ruin this day for you. Though I may not understand it’s significance I understand your heart and I’m sorry for breaking it today. I promise to put your feelings in front of my own from now on so please. Promise me you’ll never say you regret having met me ever again. I love you more than you could possibly fathom goldfish. You make think me the king of all animals but I assure you, I will always treat you as my queen, animal, human, god or otherwise.” He wipes the tears from my eyes upon hearing his confession and I cuddle into his warmth.

     “Can I ask just one question?” 

     “Hm?”

     “What on Earth were you guys fighting over that caused such destruction in the first place?”

     “Pffft. That foul mouthed Scorpion and his idiot boss were heckling me when I showed up without a wrapped present in hand and starting spouting off about things they shouldn’t.” 

     “I don’t need a present from you to be happy. I’m happy now just like this, safely snuggled in your arms.”

     “How ridiculous.”

     “Leon!”

     “It’s ridiculous that you think I would have nothing to give you on your birthday. I could give you anything you asked of me. However I could not give you anything more valuable to me than my heart. No one makes me feel the way you do. No one ever has and no one ever will. I will lavish you in my love until you beg for me to stop.”

     “Geeze Leon.” My cheeks and ears are hot upon hearing his words.

     “But thank you. There is nothing I could ever want more than that. I love you with every fiber of my being.” As I gaze up into those gorgeous eyes the love I feel for him is reflected right back at me. A tender smile fills his handsome face as he reached his hand out and scratches behind my ear causing me to purr again.

     “You know, I think I could get used to this. You make a better cat than a goldfish anyway.”

     “Wait what!? What’s that supposed to mean?”

     “You’re far more obedient this way.”

     “H-Hey!” I teasingly hit his arm making him laugh. 

     “As long as your mine, I don’t care what you want to be.” I smile at him getting misty eyed again.

     “Happy Birthday goldfish. I love you more than any words could ever say.”

-Fin-

[emhoardsbooks]

about time

James uses the hidden messages in spotify playlists craze to tell Lily how he feels. AO3

A/N: written for @emmelinevvance , happy birthday fam | listen to To: Lily and To: James

Peter renamed the group chat to Sirius owes me a tenner.

Sirius renamed the group chat to Eff You Pete I’m Poor

Peter renamed the group chat to You’re the richest person who’s had to do nothing for it I know.

Sirius renamed the group chat to no that’s jim

James: can we just agree that Sirius needs to be paid and then address the important matter here

Peter: *I* need to be paid.

James: right, whatever

James sent a link

Remus: what the hell is this I thought you hated buzzfeed

James: i do but look at this

Peter: people making playlists that spell out a message?

James: it’s brilliant

Sirius: you *have* always been a mixtape guy

Remus: yeah remember when he made us actual mixtapes last year and we all he to go to pete’s cause he’s the only one with a cassette player still

Peter: not my fault james and i are the only cultured ones

Sirius: nah mate you’re just too sentimental to throw out your bloody cassettes from when you were like 5

James: A N Y W A Y

James: im gonna make one for lily

Remus renamed the group chat to This Is Going To End Badly

James: lads I’m serious!

Sirius: last time i checked that was me

Peter: stfu

Remus: didn’t you and lily just start being friends? are you sure you wanna risk that?

James: i can feel something is different between us… i think it’s time

Sirius renamed the group chat to *Rafiki voice* It Is Time

James: stfu

----

James opened Spotify and stared at the screen for a good three minutes before creating a new playlist. In the name slot he typed, “To: Lily.”

And then he vigorously back spaced and retyped, “Dear Lily.” He did this four more times before settling on what he had written originally. He already felt like he was making a fool of himself and he hadn’t even sent her the playlist yet. Maybe he should just make her a physical mixtape.

But no. Because then he’d have to do it in person and she’d need to borrow his cassette player- or worse- Peter’s. That would be bloody awkward.

He leaned back in his chair and looked thoughtfully at the blank playlist on his screen. James knew he was supposed to create a message out of the songs, but what did he want to say? There were so many things.

I love the way you brush my hair out of my face for me when I’m cooking.

I love the way you get a little dimple in your right cheek when you smile.

I love the way you wear green because you know it bring out your eyes.

I love your eyes.

I love your kindness.

I love your wit.

I love you.

That was what he wanted to say. How was he going to say all that in one playlist? Remus was right, this was going to end badly. It was doomed. He was doomed. His relationship with Lily was doomed and he should quit while he was ahead. James tilted his head back and closed his eyes. Maybe if he just rested for a while, an idea would come to him.

----

Remus: you have to talk to james

Lily: what’s wrong with him now?

Remus: I like how you say “now” as if there’s always something wrong with him

Remus: cause you’re right

Remus: but this time he has this insane idea in mind and he’s having no luck pulling it off. talking to you calms him down so maybe it’d help

Lily: hmm

Lily: well since you said i’m right, i *guess* i can talk to him

Remus: you’re the best lily

Lily: you can stop flattering me I already agreed to do it

----

The truth was, Lily would agree to talk to James any time and she knew that Remus knew she would. As she let herself into their flat with the key they had given her a few months ago, she thought about when that had developed. When exactly had she been willing, eager even, to talk to James Potter?

Maybe when he had found her crying in the hall after a particularly bad encounter with Severus, and brought her into his flat and fed her brownies. Maybe it had been when he piggy backed her to the health center on campus after she twisted her ankle trying to skateboard faster than Sirius and hadn’t even complained when the pain made her squeeze his fingers purple. Or maybe it had been when he told jokes and laughed so hard that it felt like the coldness of winter was melting away.

However it happened, friendship had finally blossomed between them and Lily found she liked it quite a lot. She liked James quite a lot.

The door to his room was open and he was sprawled out on his bed with his arm flung over his face. Ever the dramatic one, this boy, she thought as she lightly knocked on the door frame. He slowly peeled his arm away from his eyes and when he saw her he sat up faster than she’d ever seen him do. It was adorable and a little pang of warmth blossomed and spread from her stomach to her chest.

Shit.

“Don’t get up on my account,” she teased as she crossed the room and sat next to him on the bed.

“Of course I’m getting up for you, you’re our guest,” he muttered. Lily could tell he had been dozing. His glasses were askew and his voice was gravelly.

“Oh shut up.”

Before she knew why she was doing it she was pushing him back down on the bed and nestling herself into his side. There was a stunned expression on his face and she could see the sides of his neck darkening. Hers was too, so maybe it was a good sign. Maybe he felt flustered and nervous and like butterflies were beating drums in his stomach too. She reached up and brushed his hair away from his face. He sucked in a little breath that made her head spin.

“Remus told me you have something on your mind,” she said quietly. “Just rest for now.”

They fell asleep like that. Later, Sirius came to ask them if they wanted to order Chinese or pizza for dinner. When he saw them, Lily curled into James and James with the most content, peaceful expression on his face he’d seen in years, Sirius quietly shut the door and let them be.

----

Peter: jim is in love

Sirius renamed the group chat to D U H

Remus: you twats better leave him alone

Remus: don’t fuck it up for him

Sirius: language, remus

Remus: I hate you

Remus: james? james just ignore them ok?

Peter: we’ll be on our best behavior, promise

Sirius: we won’t scare evans away

Sirius: although *you* haven’t done so already so i don’t know how we could

Remus: sirius

Sirius: what!?

Sirius: he’s not even reading our messages anyway!

Peter: yeah he’s too busy trying to make that bloody playlist

Remus: … you do have a point

Remus renamed the group chat to Just Tell Her How You Feel

----

Lily: did I do something? u guys haven’t been talking to me much this week

Lily: especially james..

Sirius: you’ve done a lot of things evans

Sirius: that time you stole remus’ bike

Sirius: that time you told mcgonagall that *i* put the goat in the library when it was clearly you and marlene

Sirius: that time you punched pete for winning a bet fair and square

Sirius: that time you bewitched our jamesy into falling madly in love with you

Lily: …..

Lily: come again?

Sirius: that time you told mcgonagall that *i* put the goat in the library when it was clearly you and marlene

Lily: THE PART ABOUT JAMES YOU SHIT HEAD

Sirius: oh yeah

Sirius: well he’s obviously in love with you despite trying really hard to just be a nice friend

Sirius: because you wanted to J U S T be friends and he all he wants is to not cross the line and to make you happy by giving what you want

Sirius: but no you had to be all charming and make him love you anyway

Sirius: i swear to god if you break his heart…

Sirius: evans are you listening

Lily: yeah sirius

Lily: I’m listening

----

James finished the playlist at one in the morning. Ever since that day when Lily had shown up, and calmed him down without knowing why she had to, he had been renewed with an intense urge to finish what he had started. He had to tell her. He couldn’t keep seeing her like this- soft, warm, and loving- if he wasn’t going to tell her how he felt.

And maybe, if she didn’t feel the same way, she’d pull away. That’d be for the best really. Then he could stop pining after her. Stop wishing that every little brush of her hands could lead to more. Stop wishing that he could whisper sweet things to her instead of plots to slip pink hair dye into Peter’s shampoo. Maybe he’d even stop loving her.

He never would.

----

She shouldn’t have been up so late. She should have been catching up on her sleep after finally submitting her final university paper ever. But Marlene had wanted to go out and celebrate so Lily had gone too and now they were finally staggering back into their flat at nearly two in the morning.

Lily wondered if they could hear her. Could James, whose room was directly below their lounge, hear her stumbling to the couch and flopping onto it? Sometimes she hated how close their flat was. She hated being only feet away from him but still an entire floor apart. She never wanted to be apart from him.

Lily heard her phone ping and considered ignoring the message. Whoever it was, they could wait until the morning. But she was too curious, as usual, and checked the screen anyway.

James sent a link

She clicked it and it opened Spotify. The name of the playlist immediately caught her eye. To: Lily.

As she skimmed the songs it took a moment for her drink befuddled brain to realize the message hidden in the titles. But once she saw it, it was like she sobered up immediately and her heart began beating wildly in her chest. And even though it was now half past two and she should have been sleeping, Lily sat in her lounge and listened to the playlist James sent her.

She cried as she listened to it. She cried because Sirius had been right and this wonderful, sweet man really did love her. She cried because she realized that all along she had loved him too.

Below her, James tossed and turned in bed, trying to sleep even though the nerves were eating him alive and he needed to know what she thought.

----

Lily sent a link

The notification was the first thing James saw when he checked his phone in the morning. He had finally fallen asleep, if only for a few hours. He immediately swiped his phone open and clicked the link, his heart pounding in his chest as he did. It led him to a Spotify playlist.

To: James.

He was just processing the message in the song titles when there was a knock on his door.

“Come in,” he said. He was well aware of how hoarse he sounded but it felt like his heart was in his throat so who could blame him really.

“James.”

He looked up and Lily was there. She looked like she had gotten even less sleep than he had. He really shouldn’t have sent her the playlist in the middle of the night like that but he wasn’t able to wait any longer. He had to know.

And now he did.

By the time he had untangled himself from his blankets and gotten out of bed, she had crossed the room and was standing in front of him. She slowly raised her hands and rested them on his shoulders. He had always thought about this moment. Being close enough to count the freckles on her nose, she the shades of green in her eyes, feel her breath on his face. How far he would have to lean down to reach her lips.

“Lily I’m sorry if it was forward of me,” he started but stopped when she smiled and rolled her eyes at him. There was that little dimple and the crinkles in corners of her eyes. When Lily smiled like that, James knew everything was going to be right.

So he kissed her.

----

Remus renamed the group chat to james and lily are A Thing™

Peter: took long enough

Sirius: how do you know before me

Remus: my room is next to james’

Sirius: so?

Peter: oooooo

Sirius: pete gets it before me that’s honestly offensive..

Sirius: oh

Remus: yep

James: boys it’s lily

James: stop texting james he’s busy ;)

Peter: jfc

Sirius: i can’t believe we *wanted* this to happen

Remus: I can

Sirius renamed the group chat to Great now Remus has starry eyes.

Remus renamed the group chat to stfu Sirius

Sirius renamed the group chat to M A K E ME

Remus: …..

Remus: ok

Sirius: huhkugab.,,

Peter: ! ! !

Peter: JAMES

James: you guys lily said to leave me a l o n e

Peter: k

Peter: just thought you’d like to know remus just marched up to sirius, pushed him up against the fridge and started snogging him

James: fuCK that’s stainless steel those prats better get off my kitchen applian c es or e lse

----

Lily reached over and slowly took James’ phone from his hand. After reading the messages that had his mouth hanging open in shock she just laughed.

“It’s about time,” she said. James looked at her. His hair was tousled and his glasses had been knocked nearly off. She loved the soft way he gazed at her. The way he made it seem like she was the brightest, most wonderful thing in the room and that he was as happy as can be just watching her.

“Yeah,” he said. “It is.”

He kissed her again and Lily melted into his arms.