#i wish i had gotten more of the foliage in the shot but !!! oh well

[ahollowgrave]

Febhyurary 2025 | Day 5: Color

Your heart may burst with joy for you've never seen a place so lush and colorful.

[blueprint-han]

desert rose — yang jeongin.

↪ “ Because love and a red rose could never be truly hid. ”

— “ You’d have never thought that one incident would’ve enlightened you of how much in love you were with your childhood best friend, but it turns out to be more of a problem when you’re threatened with a life-ending disease with no cure whatsoever. Or so you thought. ”

pairing: jeongin x reader

genre: hanahaki au; fluff, angst with a happy ending.

⇥ warnings: hanahaki disease, mentions of blood (not very graphic but enough that it’s tagged), lots of angst, also in this world the hanahaki surgery isn’t discovered yet, because it’s a fairly recent discovery, also y/n’s dad is nowhere mentioned in this fic idk take it as you like but i imagined him to pass away when y/n was 12 for some reason :((, please do not read if you triggered by topics of death or blood or disease! These themes will be prevalent though not in super explicit detail, they are still there. If I missed a warning, let me know. <3

word count: 11.09 K

type: long one-shot.

⇥ disclaimer: this fiction does not represent the activities of the real Yang Jeongin, nor is associated with JYPE in any form. Events are pure fiction. ♡

part of: the @bystay​ skznta event, written for @stayndays​ !!

song: inspired from Desert Rose by Lolo Zouaï <3 No relation to the fic but it did inspire the ~vibes~.

↯ note: I’m gonna be honest this tired me out so much that I’m glad I finished it, it took me longer than I expected and it got longer than I expected, but nonetheless, here you go shayna! Hi!! It’s me! Your secret santa! Sorry I couldn’t send you that many asks because my uni is a bitch™, and I wish I could’ve made this better, but I guess this will have to do for now. I hope you like it, and I loved being your santa! 🥺 I hope we can interact more in the future, and this isn’t edited so pls go easy on me （＞人＜；）eiury2y4er okay happy reading! <3 love you shayna! <3 I wish I could give this more editing time :( but... i hope u still like it!  ⇥ dawn.☀️

Jeongin’s eyes are really pretty.

The first time you'd made this miniscule observation was during your summer vacation road trip when the sun shined a tad bit overly bright, and Jeongin’s umbrella had a hole in it. The exact details of how it ended up torn don’t matter, but the way Jeongin’s eyes seemed to shimmer in the harsh noon sun almost made it seem worth it.

You remember it clearly — He’d smiled brightly when his eyes met yours, eyes crinkling into tiny little half-moons before his expression turned neutral. At that moment, you were lost into the abyss that was his midnight black orbs. They seemed to hold glimmering stars in them, ones that outshone the specks of white in the night sky.

Looking back, you didn’t think of it much, opting to shake your head off it’s daze before running to where Jeongin stood, throwing a bottle of water into his backpack and laughing at some corny jokes the rest of the group cracked.

Jeongin was a friend — a good friend. In fact, you could call him your best friend, though it had never been verbalized. You couldn’t remember exactly when or how you’d gotten closer to him — it just happened, like everything important in this world did. Like how Jeongin says “It was fate, Y/N, fate” in that old-man-philosopher voice to get you to laugh (Of course it would never work, but you’d still laugh, because anything to see him give you that bright, toothy grin and that little scrunch of his nose in acknowledgement).

The memory of how it all started  is as clear as the sky, as pure as the pigment of a rose.

“Don’t stray too far away, alright? Meet me back here in two hours.” The instructor screams, and all the students chime in with a collective “Yes, ma’am!”. 

 “Good, now go collect your flowers.”

A flower-picking expedition isn’t a common event in a school field trip, at least in your school. You’re more used to the normal visits to the ice cream factory, or the butterfly park (which, to be fair, had some pretty flowers, if only you could pick them) or another affiliated school. Nevertheless, you don’t complain, because the prospect of your school giving you a chance to collect all the pretty flowers you could spot here had you on top of the clouds.

You’re allowed to go alone or in groups of two, and of course, Jeongin has you by the arm the moment your teacher had screamed “Disperse!” at the top of her lungs (P.E teachers had a thing for screaming, apparently). Ignoring the teasing glances the other boys made towards the both of you, you set sail on your path, scanning all the bushes for any wild and unique flowers you could find.

“Oh look, there’s one!” You pointed out after a good four-minute-walk, almost stumbling in your one-inch-too-tight-shoes and ignoring Jeongin’s giggle at your antics. You beckoned him over to where you were standing and he obliged, tucking his sweater paws into his pockets before walking over to where you were staring at the pretty flower.

So, flowers. They’d always fascinated you. You’d developed said fascination ever since you were six. Something about the sheer way the petals were arranged, the various ranges of coloring — vivid, gradient, muted — the beauty of something so delicate and intricate always drew you in. You found yourself examining a flower for hours, and surprisingly, you never grew tired of it. They’d helped you through a lot when you felt particularly down, too. Perfect distraction — snuggling against Jeongin’s arm and playing with the flower he’d always pick out for every visit, surrounded by calming; almost numbing silence along with the sound of his steady breathing, maybe sometimes his heartbeat too when he’d get overly affectionate. Flowers in a way, in every way, were your escape. You loved them. 

��Hmmm.” Jeongin hummed over the sounds of the leaves susurrating and rustling on the ground, the wind enveloping you like a cold, yet oddly comfortable blanket. He fixed his round glasses over his nose, quickly flipping through his encyclopedia. No one really questioned him as to why he carried it wherever he went — but just like you, he had a vivid fascination for flowers too. It was something the both of you fit like a glove on, and you were beyond grateful to meet someone who could click with you so well.

“This is wolfsbane, we can’t pick it.” He said, shaking his head. “It’s poisonous, the whole plant is.”

“Oh…” You pouted, staring at the flower once more. You took in the sight of lush, violet petals, the way they wrapped around the centre and had almost no smell.

“Hey.” He touched your hand worriedly. “You didn’t touch them, right?”

“No, I didn’t. I know better than to touch plants without knowing what they are.”

“Good.” There you could see it again. That lovely, bright smile, one more of relief this time. When you looked into his eyes, you seemed lost — you could capture every flutter of his lashes against his cheeks, count every lustrous star that was laid in his eyes. “That’s good, the poison can be absorbed easily through your skin.”

“Yeah.” You let yourself smile at him, hands dropping down to fiddle with the hem of your frock. 

“Come on, I wanna get some shots for my book. Plus some flowers.” Pulling at your hand, he led you amidst the varying degrees of green and the damp smell of grass for a good distance, before halting in front of a bush. You knew what he’s referencing to by ‘shots’. The camera that hangs around his back, ready to immortalize the memory into his SD card, or rather make a polaroid (or a painting, if he’s being artistic) and tape it to his notebook along with the pressed flower.

“Look!”

Trip a step back, and you yelp at the sudden intrusion to your pace, pouting at Jeongin before looking in the direction he had his eyes fixated on. “Roses.” You giggle, kneeling in front of the bush and hissing when you feel the damp coldness of the grassy floor seep into your knees. “They’re pretty.” 

You can barely hear the sound of students walking past you — the moment seems almost captivating — nothing heard, nothing felt except the whirring of the wind, and the fresh smell of various plants mixed together, it carries.

This part of the garden seems particularly shady and cool, and some of the roses haven’t bloomed yet. A few rosebuds, a few half-bloomed roses, and two fully bloomed, deep red roses, sitting nicely against the green foliage.

Jeongin kneels before you, and you turn to smile at him, chortling at the way his glasses are about to fall over his nose again. You ruffle his black hair gently before fixing the glasses up his nose. 

“You might wanna get a chain attached to that thing. You know those strings that go around your neck and to your glasses to hold them in place?”

Jeongin chuckles. “It’s alright. I don’t like my glasses anyways.”

“Whyyy…?” You whine, poking his arm playfully before directing your focus back on the rose. “You look so adorable with them.”

Your friend feels a smile tug at his lips, leaning in to pinch your cheeks lightly. “You’re adorable.” He says, before focusing on the rose, (thankfully) oblivious to the way your cheeks feel warm after his action.

“Here, let me pick them out and then we can press them into our journals.” Yes. The both of you have matching journals, owing to your near obsession with flowers. You oft share them with each other and get fascinated by how the other views the flower, how they delicately craft words into how the little gift of nature meant to them. It’s a heartwarming tradition — one of the main reasons you follow it till date. 

Jeongin pulls out a pair of scissors from his satchel, and albeit with a lot of force (and the adorable nose scrunch™, manages to cut off a decent amount of stem with the fully bloomed flower, carefully bringing it to his nose to smell it before doing the same to the other one. And all the while, you silently watch.

“Here, this one is more fresh.” It’s so surprising how he can just say that by looking at the flower. Then again, you know him better than anyone, so it’s not surprising at all. He looks at you with dreamy, fluttering eyes and that precious smile on his face, his hair falling perfectly on his forehead. You want to reach out and fix the stray hairs back into position, but you hold back, swallowing the lump in your throat when you look into his pretty, pretty eyes. Trying your damnedest to not get mesmerized, lost in them once again.

It doesn’t seem like a very, very special moment. And to you at that time, it wasn’t special. You simply ignored the heat that crept up your face at his silent gesture, nodding sporadically and ignoring the way you tensed up more when your fingers touched, barely.

Your heart suddenly thumped against your chest with renewed vigour, and you could tell Jeongin was close to noticing it too. 

“T-thank you, that's very sweet.” Fixing the frills of your frock, you smooth them over before looking further and deeper into the garden.

“Lend me a hand, please.”

You once again, ignore the way your heart flutters at his statement, silently extending your hand and covering up your sudden emotion with a smile. His hand feels soft, warm in your hold, fingertips slightly rough from when he used to play the violin. You like it, though.

“Here.” He places the rose carefully in your palm, making sure no thorns prick the delicate skin of your palm, and you can’t help but smile at the tiny reassurance. A nod of approval and you tuck the flower away neatly into your satchel, almost like a valuable present he’d given you, oblivious to the way Jeongin’s eyes twinkled at your action, his smile beaming.

My god, who would’ve known this flower could’ve brought you so, so much trouble?

It had started simple, almost unnoticeable. Just little glances towards Jeongin when he’d come over to watch a movie, getting lost in the way his hair looked exceptionally soft to touch, silently drifting off into space as you admired him from the backseat during class — sure, you were supposed to be focusing on the lesson and taking notes, but something about the way the rim of Jeongin’s sunglasses caught the sunlight and created a lens flare effect was breathtaking to watch.

That, combined with his beauty, his personality. It was too much, too much to handle.

You found yourself waiting to get a glimpse of him, even a tiny glance of his smile would be enough to make your day — to make your heart flutter. 

He was pretty.

You suppose it’s because being Jeongin’s best friend meant you already knew about the kind and empathetic man he was — but for the love of god, you could not stop your heart from fluttering when you heard his name, let alone looked at him and his mind-numbingly pretty smile, his dazzling eyes that always seemed to keep you off the ground.

Oh my, was this love?

You didn’t believe it. You didn’t agree, couldn’t accept that this was love. Maybe it was just your way of showing appreciation for him, for everything he’d done for you? Yes. That was probably it. 

Love wasn’t something you’d experienced — how could you jump to the conclusion? 

But you couldn’t pin the feeling you were feeling to another word — though you were desperate. The way your heart beat faster around him, the way you started noticing all the tiny details that made you fall for him even more, and for what? Just because he happened to give you a fresher, more lusciously colored rose after choosing them on his own? 

Jeongin had noticed it too — it was hard not to when you’d start fiddling with your thumbs, twirling your hair, and the way heat would rush to your face when he did as little as smile at you — you’d fallen for him — and while he was ever-the-oblivious to realise the implications of your actions, he did know that something was wrong.

“Y/N, are you alright?” Jeongin asks rather dully, seeming kind of worried about your current state. You’re resting your head against his lap, but Jeongin can feel the warmth of your cheek through the thin material of his shorts — and not the regular kind. The kind of heat one would radiate when they’d either been overly flustered. Or possibly a fever.

He rests a single palm against your cheek and your eyes flutter shut, and there it is again. The butterflies in your stomach, the fuzzies in your head, and the tingling that shot up to your fingertips. “Are you sick? Is that why you’re oddly quiet today? You haven’t said or eaten anything.”

“Ah, no, I’m alright.” You try to hide the dizziness in your voice, snuggling in his hold before fluttering your eyes close. Thankfully, Jeongin doesn’t question it. 

“Alright, we won’t talk about it if you don’t want to.” Even though you aren’t facing him right now, you can feel him smile in melancholy. 

“Hey Y/N?” 

“Yes?”

“You know I’m here for you, right?”

Oh, you knew.

Sometimes you wish you didn’t — maybe that would’ve prevented it from ending this way.

It’s such a common scenario — in movies, in books, in media. Two best friends falling in love with each other, confessing their love in the warm and intimate setting of the night sky, over gentle touches and lingering kisses. You’ve always had an attachment to those kinds of movies or books — because for you, that kind of love was special in it’s own way.

Those little ways the lead characters had of showing each other their undying love, those subtle acts were so special, so special in their own way. Those books had shown you how heartwarming, how vulnerable yet rigid, strong that relationship could be. It was such a pretty world to explore, to fantasize. You kind of felt that you and Jeongin were the protagonists of those books, those movies.

Except, you had no happy ending.

The books failed to show how painful it was to swallow, to digest the fact that you could be nothing more than friends. Sure, there had been some moments where the main leads would be sad, but it was nothing compared to this, this suffocation in your chest that slowly built up, day by day, minute by minute, second by second.

It was hard.

The first prick in your chest hadn’t been entirely painful. It was barely noticeable even. Simply a tiny jolt of pain when you bent forward to grab your books from your locker. It had only been a slight jab, like when you’d accidentally poke yourself in the rib with the edge of your hardcover diary while picking it up. Nothing too hard.

Then came the slight feeling of breathlessness. You found yourself unable to run a full round in P.E (when you could easily do so beforehand), having to stop in between to catch your breath. You figured it could’ve been your dust allergy because the P.E room wasn’t cleaned that often, so it made sense. Somewhat. Still sceptical, but nonetheless, you covered up your random outbursts of coughs with any and every excuse you could find when your parents questioned you about it.

It was hard, but you figured it was just a matter of winter passing by, and soon you’d be alright.

Would you, though? You couldn’t bring yourself to accept that there was in fact something wrong happening to you, pushing behind that feeling of paranoia every time with a smile on your face and a hold of your breath, wishing for the pain to ebb away.

Who would’ve thought that a sudden infatuation would have led to your demise?

Jeongin can hear the noises.

Those loud, dragged out wisps of air that you borderline struggle to take in and expel out, Jeongin can hear them.

He can feel your struggle. It’s not easy for him to look at you like this, curled up into a ball and ignoring the rampant burn in your chest. The movie isn’t even the main focus right now. Jeongin has something to say, and he’s had enough of watching you struggle. He’s rather here to persuade you to go to the fucking doctor, and get some sort of diagnosis instead of beating around the bush.

Strange. Jeongin feels oddly affectionate today, when usually you’re the one to initiate such gestures. All he wants to do is pull you into his arms and rock you back and forth until you fall asleep, because you seriously seem like you need it.

“Y/N,” he calls, watching you lift your head up from where it’s rested against your knees. You don’t reply, because right now, your throat seems like a barren desert and all you can seem to let out is a croak.

Jeongin sighs and rolls his eyes as if in deep thought, turning on the couch to face you before touching the tops of your cheeks with his hands — they seem overly feverous. 

“What’s going on?” He asks sternly.

“What d-do you mean?” You manage to get out, feeling your chest hurt more and more with each syllable that leaves past your lips in a croaked voice. It felt like someone was repeatedly stabbing your chest with the sharp edge of the knife, the burn in your throat and lungs getting too much to handle. You can’t even tear your focus from the fiery sensation to revel in the feeling of Jeongin’s soft palms cupping your cheeks.

“Y/N, you’ve been acting weird ever since the expedition.” Worry is laced throughout his tone, mixed in with a dash of sorrow to give rise to the most heartbreaking sound you’ve ever heard. Though you know otherwise, it almost seems as though Jeongin is disappointed in you.

“You’ve been getting more and more sick—” he raises a hand to stop you from contradicting his statement. You only look at him with mellow eyes, knowing that what he says is right. You’ve been ignoring your health for too long. 

You can’t help it, either. While you have an inkling of what might’ve happened, you’re too stubborn to accept it, let along your unrequited love for your best friend, who seems ever-the-oblivious.

“—and you can’t tell me it’s the winter allergy, love. I know you more than that to believe it.”

Shaking your head in dismay, you turn around to get up. You can’t be having this conversation right now, not with the faintest taste of blood lingering at the edge of your throat — you can’t be showing yourself like this in front of him — broken down, vulnerable, confused of your own feelings, having no idea of what you should be doing.

Your mother had pointed it out too, at this point. They suggested going to the doctor, and you outright refused. You didn’t want your suspicion to come to life. It couldn’t- it couldn’t be this way-

“Y/N!”

Jeongin grabs your hands to stop you in your position and turns you around.

And that’s a wrong move.

Your whole chest tightens, and the thorns that stab against your chest has never been more painful. You cry out loudly, only causing them to dig deeper into your skin and almost bleed. Jeongin’s eyes widen in shock at your sudden, unexpected reaction and only tightens his grasp on your hands.

Which again, is a very wrong move, because the following bouts of coughs that take over you shake you up from the core. Jeongin feels blanked out looking at how much you’re suffering right now, so much that he doesn’t feel the wet, yet light flutter on the back of his hand.

When Jeongin snaps back in from his momentary daze, he’s borderline horrified.

He’s convinced, completely certain that there’s nothing more terrifying, heartbreaking, scarring — he could go on and on — than what he just saw. He can almost feel his heart break into a million tiny shards, but he knows that it’s nowhere equivalent to the pain you’re going through.

Well, looks like your suspicion did come to life.

Because what Jeongin sees is, gah, he feels horrified. There’s blood dripping down your lip, staining the skin below garnet red. Your eyes are tinted pinkish-red too, most likely from the exertion that came along with the horrendous amount of coughs that took over you.

Red, red everywhere. Jeongin had previously thought of red as one of the most beautiful, and most interesting colors ever — a symbolism of love, nothing but the pure love he felt towards you.

But now, all he could think of was how much he was tormented by the mere sight of the color.

When his eyes, still blown wide in shock, trail down to his lap, the mere sight of what’s littered on it leaves him in tears.

Red petals, everywhere. All over the back of his hands, all over your lap, all over his lap.

Jeongin could probably spend ages, ages sobbing and whimpering about the sheer pain the sight in front of him brought. It tormented him beyond imagination. This should be a dream — Jeongin wants to wake up any second now, anywhere, in your lap, in his own bed, just anything to save his heart from seeing you this way.

Yet when you cough again, the pain in his heart tells otherwise.

“Y/N!” He chokes out a cry, and from there, he acts quick. He could cry about this later — he needs to find you some help, and now. 

You feel numb. As numb as you possibly can when you see the tears in Jeongin’s eyes, though your sight is clouded by your own tears. You’re numb to the blood dripping down your chin and pooling in your lap, you’re numb to the feeling of those bloody petals littered all over the couch. 

“We need to get you to the hospital, quick.” He gets up, wiping his eyes that are surprisingly, surprisingly overflowing with tears. You barely feel the handkerchief quickly wiping against your mouth, causing you to snap from your trance and look at him. The numbness doesn’t fade yet.

You doubt it ever will.

You’re not sure that the events after the incident go super quickly or as slow as a snail, and you’re not in any state to care about it either. Jeongin had called your mother when he drove you to the hospital — albeit over the sound of your repetitive and raucous coughs — and now your mom’s standing next to him outside, nervously prancing back and forth as he waits for the doctors to come out.

The hospital corridor is moderately lit — perfect setting for Jeongin’s mood right now. There’s no sound except for the occasional encounter when a nurse or doctor happens to walk past them. The hanahaki treatment section of the hospital isn’t the most crowded place — surprisingly enough, the doctors had immediately known what had happened to you.

Your mother can’t bring herself to thank Jeongin for dragging you to the hospital — she’s too paranoid. Your daughter coughing up blood and — Jeongin hadn’t mentioned it to her — flower petals over a movie night isn't the best news you’d want to receive when her friend calls you; so Jeongin understands why your mother is overly quiet.

He doesn’t try to reassure her either. It’s hard to do so when she’s gonna find out her daughter houses a wedding bouquet in her chest — and Jeongin isn’t that oblivious to not know what’s going on, especially standing in the hanahaki department of the clinic. His mother, not so much. All she can do is silently sob and mutter prayers repeatedly, hoping her daughter would be alright. Jeongin feels his heart break more when he sees your mom like this, and he knows he’s not gonna last at this rate, when he’s allowed to enter your room.

At this point, he can’t get past his own brain screaming a million different things at the same time, none of them coherent enough to make sense. He’s a mess right now — red eyes puffy and swollen, hair completely disheveled and half of his sweatshirt hanging out of where it was  neatly tucked in.

Two hands at his heart, and that’s when he notices the red rose petal stuck to the back of his hand, probably from when you’d coughed all over it. It’s fairly large in size — Jeongin examines it, in a slightly successful attempt at trying to distract from the feeling of anxiety that builds up inside bit by bit. It’s a deep, dark red color, exactly like the rose he’d given you that day, at the trip.

The boy sighs to himself before pulling the petal off his hand, eyes widening when the blood underneath it tints the skin it runs across. 

That’s when a lump forms in his throat, but he isn’t given time to cry, because soon enough, the sound of a door opening clicks through his ears, and Jeongin’s head snaps up.

He can see you from where he’s standing, and his whole world freezes in front of his eyes.

The flowers inside your chest had grown moderately large — that’s what the doctor said, at least. You’d been hiding your disease for two months, and it wasn’t until the end that Jeongin caught on — you’d been too stubborn to accept your fate. Maybe this was how it was supposed to end, after all. 

You couldn’t accept it then, but you did now. Did it seriously make a difference?

Jeongin had seen your scan, and what he saw would’ve truly been pretty, if not for the fact that these flowers could be the cause for your imminent death. The roses had almost fully bloomed — and the thorns were pricklier than ever. Jeongin could almost feel them stab against his skin, and he didn’t even have the disease. It was confusing — things were too confusing right now.

You couldn’t speak much, the painkillers you were on were making you drowsy and causing you to quickly fall asleep. Even if you weren’t asleep, it wouldn’t have made a difference.

Numbness ran through your veins. You couldn’t bring yourself to feel anything after what had happened.

Jeongin and your mother hadn’t spoken to you after the doctor had shown them your scan, and they preferred to not break the news to you either, figuring that you were pretty shaken up from the incident already.

The doctor said he could give you two weeks before the flowers filled your lungs completely and blocked your throat.

And Jeongin is devastated.

When the effect of your painkillers wear off and you open your eyes, you feel a soft sensation brushing against your thumb, slowly turning to look at your best friend — tears streaked all over his face, eyes ridden with dark circles and red and puffy, his voice sounded nasal as he silently cried, eyesight focused on the floor.

“J-Jeongin…?” You mumble past your oxygen mask, surprisingly not noticing it’s presence until right now,

He perks up at the painful call, lifting his head to gaze into your eyes. He looks worse than you look right now, if you’re to be honest. You doubt he’s even brushed his teeth or had breakfast. The hospital room is pretty dim just like the exterior, but the sunlight coming from the open window is enough to light up the whole room, enough to at least see your friend’s features clearly.

“You’re awake.” he says as a matter-of-fact and you nod, gently taking off the contraption placed against your nose. Jeongin flinches like he wants to stop you. But then freezes when you try to slowly get up.

Turns out that’s a wrong move, because you can soon feel the thorns of the garden you have in your lungs prick against your skin, making you gasp and shriek in agony. Jeongin jerks up and places a hand on your back, and the other across your stomach — and gently maneuvers you into an awkward but comfortable position, before lifting the top of the bed into a reclining position before laying you down onto it.

“Careful, love.”

Your chest tightens at the actions once again, yet you try not to cough like you did the last time. Surprisingly biting on your tongue works to rid the feeling of suffocation, or at least distracts from it.

“Where’s m-mom?”

“She went to pick up some of your essentials, plus a few clothes.”

“D-did she eat? Did you eat?”

Jeongin smiles at your concern. It’s something he’s found endearing about you — how you always seem to put others first, even though you’re in a worse situation. Though the habit isn’t healthy, Jeongin can’t seem to get over how thoughtful one would have to be to act that way all the time. You’re so innocent, so kind — you’re one of a kind, at least for him.

“What?” You chuckle, noticing Jeongin’s lingering stare on you.

Your friend only beams, taking your hand in his once again. “I forced her to eat something because of her medication, so you don’t have to worry. I ate along with her too, though the canteen’s food doesn’t taste that well.” 

A soft giggle leaves your lips and quickly morphs into a set of coughs, more petals fluttering all over your lap and hands. When Jeongin stands up to call a doctor, you lift a hand to stop him, gesturing for him to sit down.

It isn’t as intense as the first time, but there’s still a tiny bit of blood dripping from the corner of your mouth, which Jeongin quickly goes to wipe off with his thumb. You flinch at the warm touch, sighing to yourself before dropping your gaze to your lap.

“So…” You start. “What did the doctor say?”

“What?”

Jeongin seems visibly tense at your question, kind of like he was dreading it. Which he was. He knows enough about this to know that patients usually don’t like knowing, and in fact can be traumatised by knowing that their apparent death would be in two weeks.

Jeongin in fact has no idea how he’s so calm. He should be sobbing, trashing, looking for a way to hold you back. He shouldn’t be so calm.

He figures he’s just accepted fate. He’s relishing what could be his last moments with you.

You don’t reply, and Jeongin knows he’ll have to make something up.

“They said it’s just a regular allerg-”

“Jeongin.”

The boy freezes.

“Don’t lie to me.” Your voice is laid with so much pain, Jeongin wants to reach out and crush every problem you have into his fist. He wants all your sorrow and worry to dissolve, and right now, he just feels helpless. He feels powerless.

“How many days do I have left?” You ask, sniffling before wiping your tears away. “Just tell me already, Jeongin-”

Jeongin’s grip tightens against your hand as he whispers — “Two weeks.” 

The words are only let out as a soft mumble, as though Jeongin himself is questioning the statement the doctors put forth. Really, in two weeks? Would you really be gone? Would he seriously never see more of your smiles, your loving gaze, those times when you’d get overly shy of his compliments, those times when you’d silently smile at him from afar?

Was this the end?

“Two weeks.” You repeat. Your voice honestly sounds like a croaking frog, but you can’t bring yourself to care. 

“Hey Y/N…?” Jeongin hesitantly calls.

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask you something?” He puts his other hand on yours. “Two questions, actually.”

“Mhm?”

“This disease you have… hana-”

“Hanahaki.”

“Yeah, that.” A hand runs against the back of his neck and he continues. “Be honest, did you know that- that you had this disease before I found out?”

“Jeongin…” You’re about to shake your head, but then you remember the deadline. The deadline by which, you’re no longer going to be here, no longer going to be able to cuddle Jeongin during movie dates, no longer be able to even look at him from afar, or close for that matter. In other words, you didn’t want to end your days with him based on a lie.

Therefore you sigh, breathing out a ‘yes’ as your shoulders droop down.

You can hear Jeongin’s shaky sigh too.

“W-why?” He clenches your hand tightly, sadness mixing in with what you can only call disappointment. “How could you be so selfish?”

It's too late to take back those words now.

“Wh-what?” You raise your eyebrows, feeling scared at his sudden question. “Jeongin, I wanted to be sure-”

Oh who are you kidding? Jeongin and you both know that you’d hidden it because you didn’t want to accept it. It’s too late to change that now.

And Jeongin seems to know that too.

“Don’t- Y/N.” His breath morphs into sharp inhales, as though he’s downright angry at your actions — you know he has every reason to be — still, it doesn’t ease the pain in your heart. Or maybe that’s just the flowers.

“Do you think this is a joke?” His sobs grow louder in fervour, and you feel yourself break at the sight. The room is so, so quiet that you can hear his faint mumbles. You can hear the cries his heart screams in agony, letting you go is painful for him. The thought, rather the sound, only makes the plant in your heart grow further.

“Y/N- did you not think of your mother? Of me? Did you not think of what would have happened if you left us? You think it’s gonna be easy on the both of us? On everyone?” His gaze stern and his voice stable, you don’t get affected by his words, but you do understand what he means — and maybe wish that you could’ve reversed your actions.

“How could you, Y/N?” He gets up from where he’s seated beside your hospital bed. “How could you think that this would be the most appropriate action?”

Jeongin knows he’s angry. Jeongin knows you’re going through a lot. But he’s too.

He’s not angry at you, not at himself, but fate. He’s mad that this is your fate, that you have to go away so soon. He’s mad that he can’t do anything to help you, in any manner.

You don’t say a word, which only causes Jeongin to sigh — disappointedly, again — and walk to where his coat is hung against the edge of his bed, picking it off and pulling it over him in a hurry. Every cell in you wants to scream at him, apologize for what you did, but your voice feels small, almost like you can’t force it out of your throat.

He goes towards the door that leads to the corridor, stopping for a second before turning to look at you.

“Are you gonna tell me, at least, who this person is?”

“W-what?” Things are too confusing right now.

“Hanahaki comes with unrequited love, Y/N. Are you gonna tell me who didn’t return your love?”

“You didn’t” You want to say. But then again, you stay quiet, not being able to handle the intensity of the moment.

Jeongin wants for two seconds, then sighs and shakes his head. “Whatever, I guess.”

And then he leaves.

In the next week, your health goes down drastically. More of petals expelled out of your lungs, more blood dripping from between your lips, more of your mother’s horrified expression as she runs away from the room while the doctors tend to your coughs. More sobs from your mother when she thinks you’re asleep, more melancholic smiles when you’re awake.

But you feel so empty.

Every piece of you feels like it’s being ripped apart. You can’t even sit up without someone’s help, of such intensity is the pain. The pain of knowing that your love would never be returned. 

The pain of knowing that you hurt the person you loved truly.

You were put on your oxygen mask 24/7, and instructed to not take it off whatsoever. Your medication stopped taking it’s usual effect, and if anyone saw you the way you were outside the current circumstances, they’d have assumed that you haven't slept for 8 days and were going to crumble into the earth any second.

“Honey?”

You gasp at the sudden intrusion to your thoughts, turning around to see your mother, sitting next to you and holding your hand with her own. You hum as a response, clearly unable to respond more than a mere mumble.

“Did you and Jeongin fight?”

A pang of guilt floods through your nerves at the mention of your friend’s name. He’d come to visit you only once in the past week. Perhaps even he couldn’t handle the fact that your death certificate was ready to be signed soon, and was trying to not be tormented by the fact. Or perhaps he was just angry.

“W-why?” You croak.

“I convinced him to come stay here while I go pick up a fresh change of clothes, but it took me quite a bit of arguing.”

You feel sad for her. She’s clearly paranoid — you can hear it in her voice, the shake lingers throughout. Yet she holds it in, trying not to let you worry about it.

You don’t answer her question. The last thing you need is for her to get mad at you too, though you doubt it. Your mom has never been the kind to yell at you for anything — provided, you’ve never given her a reason either.

“Do you think he’s mad because I didn’t tell him about the person who didn’t return m-my l-lo-ve…?” your throat goes dry towards the end and your mother quickly hands you a glass of water. You chug it down and sigh in relief, breath still short.

“Is that person him?” Your mother questions with her gentle, soothing voice one that can make you relax on the first listen. There’s no use lying to her, you figure. She knows you too well to do that, plus, like you said, you couldn’t bring yourself to end your days with her on a lie.

“Yeah…”

“Oh sweetheart,” She brushes some of your hair off your face, sitting down again before drumming her fingers against the back of your hand gently. “I don’t think he could be mad at you.”

“But he is. Didn’t y-you see? He didn’t bother to meet me as much after our argument. He’c c-clearly mad.”

“Hmmm,” Your mother ponders. “I don’t think so.”

“You don’t?”

“Nope. I have known him for a while, dear. He’s been with you for more than five years. Maybe he’s having trouble taking this in? Just like…” Your mother stops after that, but you know the completion.

Just like her.

“I’m sorry, mom.”

You simply don’t get it. You should be scared. You should be sad and devastated that your end was going to come soon.  You should be thrashing around and crying and wailing in despair — you just don’t have  the energy to even bother about your end. It’s depressing, but you know there’s no way you could avoid the inevitable, or get your lover to return your love.

Love wasn’t supposed to be something forced, it had to happen naturally. And if Jeongin didn’t develop it naturally, you just had to learn to live with it. Or not.

“Don’t be, darling. Everyone deserves to love, just like how they deserve it back. I wish it could’ve ended differently.”

“It’s alright mom. He loves me too… just not on the way I love him.”

You sniffle as a single tear runs down your chin, though you and your mom aren’t given enough time to speak more when you hear a familiar voice at the door. 

“Hey Mrs. L/N.” Jeongin says, shrugging off his half snow-covered coat before hanging it onto the bedside. Did he seriously walk in the snow? All the way here?

“Hello, Jeongin dear.” Your mother stands up, picking her coat before moving to fish the car keys from her purse. “Thank you for watching over Y/N while I’m gone, darling.”

“It’s no problem, Mrs. L/N.”

“Oh, so formal.” Your mom chuckles, though in her despaired state. “Y/N, you get some sleep, it’s about midnight dear.” She leans over to kiss your forehead while Jeongin excuses himself to the washroom, and you nod. 

“Good night mom.”

“Good night, and don’t worry about him. He’ll talk to you eventually.”

Oh, how reassuring. “Mhm.” You smile, closing your eyes to drift into slumber before Jeongin returns, because the last thing you need right now is to feel sad and cry over how you’d hurt him.

By the time the sound of the door clicking resounds through the space, you’re already asleep.

 It’s way past midnight. Jeongin shouldn’t be up. 

Somehow, he still finds himself seated next to your bed, staring fondly at your calm features as you finally get the rest you’ve needed for the past few days. 

Oh, he wouldn’t be able to compare your sheer beauty to even that of the moon; even when you’re in such a fragile and vulnerable state. Your eyelashes are still and unmoving where they sit against your skin, your breath is calm and slightly wavering as you struggle to breathe slightly. 

His hand slips into your own gently, and his heart melts when you shift, tightening your grasp on his warm skin before falling into a slumber again.

Why was he mad in the first place? Jeongin feels dumb for acting so quickly on his emotions, especially when you’re in a bad place at the moment. He wants to wake you up and apologize, but he can’t, because you’re sound asleep — and that’s a good thing, since seep comes so scarcely to you these days.

Then, a single tear falls from his eyes. His thoughts traverse to the dream he had the previous night — you, cold, dead in his arms. Him, sobbing, trying to wake you up but you’re really gone. He can’t even hear your mother’s cries from behind him, because he’s devastated to know that you’ve left him. The dream had woken him up in a cold sweat — it was then he realised that he’d committed a mistake, and agreed to come visit you, because you had about 5 days left.

His thoughts then traverse to the conversation you had with your mother, while he was standing outside in the cold hospital corridor, curiously listening.

“Is that person him?” “Yeah…”

When he heard those words, countess, infinite thoughts crashed at his head; all at once. Nothing made any sense. The reality of the situation was dawning on him too quickly, and Jeongin was having a hard time processing it. 

You loved him? He was the person who didn’t return your love?

“Why didn’t you tell me, Y/N?” He mumbles in confusion — so much confusion, so much hurt — he wanted time to just stop for awhile and give him a fair chance to analyze the situation.

But, once all the initial thoughts were out of the way, only one question remained:

Was he the reason you were going to die?

Jeongin felt like a murderer — like he’d just stabbed you in cold blood. He knows it is’t like that — just like you’d said, love should come natural. So why did Jeongin feel so bad? WHy did he feel like he was the one at fault?

A fond smile crosses his lips when he remembers the book where you keep all your flowers safely. Who would have thought your fondness for flowers would morph into the reason for your demise?

Quiet, hushed in the midnight wind, Jeongin gently brings out the rose he’d picked from his satchel. It’s almost relieving to see a rose in it’s true glory, without scattered petals or blood covering the flower. A part of him grows sad that you won’t be able to gush over flowers together anymore, he won’t be able to see your smile anymore. It hurts him. It stabs his heart over and over again, and Jeongin is pained — almost like he’s being put to death slowly — he wants the pain to end, but only suffers and suffers.

The stem has already been cut and the thorns have been thrown out. Jeongin leans over to tuck the flower behind your ear, fingers brushing against the almost cold skin at the back of your ear before letting another tear slip from his eye, running down his cheek and falling on your palm.

A strange, oh-so-strange feeling creeps up on him. It’s like… a fluttering in his heart? Jeongin can’t quite place it — heck, he doesn’t try to make sense of it. There are more important things to look at, right now. He suddenly has the urge to pull you into his arms and gently murmur sweet words into your ear — seems odd for a situation like this, but oh well, feelings are feelings.

He pats your hand gently and smiles, before moving to sleep on the smaller bed in front of your own. Not allowed to go far, though, because your grip on his hands tighten almost immediately, and Jeongin tightens to look into your eyes, sparkly and slightly droopy from the intrusion of sleep.

“Y/N, go to-”

“Stay.” You mumble, feeling your voice choke as the petals threaten to spill out for what seems like the millionth time. Yet, you manage to spill out another, “Please?”

Jeongin feels like he’s about to cry. Your expression is so, so hopeful, he can’t bring himself to deny. He wouldn’t in the first place, because who was he to deny what could be his friend’s last wish?

A sob bubbles up his throat, but he swallows it down, smiling with melancholy before following your weak pull on his hand, genty climbing on your bed before slotting himself between you and the steel grill that prevented patients from falling down. He gently tucks his hand under you and pulls you close to himself, tensing up for a second when you wrap an arm around his own, gently rubbing on it before drifting off to sleep. You want to cherish this moment — this could be the last time before you could never see him again. Fuck your medication for making you so drowsy. Or not, because you were certain you would start crying, and that would certainly not end well.

The whole room falls silent for two seconds, and you fall asleep almost immediately. 

And then, Jeongin releases all his tears, and everything comes crashing down on him. He breaks apart.

The world was too cruel to you. He was cruel to you. He can’t believe that in less than a week, you’d be gone. Gone from earth. Flowers had lost all their beauty for him, the moment he saw you coughing them up on that couch during movie night.

He wanted to do anything. He wanted any small sign to show that you would stay with him. He was in so much pain, he couldn’t accept your fate. He wanted to grab your hand and pull you to himself, keep you close, he couldn’t let go, he couldn’t give you up, he couldn’t —

“I love you.” You mumble unconsciously in your sleep, and Jeongin loses it then and there. His throat feels dry as tears flow and flow and don’t cease no matter what. His body shakes like a sobbing child, but thankfully you’re knocked out from the effect of your medication. He hasn’t cried this hard in a while, guess there’s a first time for everything. The three words pierce his heart, and they suddenly hold more meaning than anything — Jeongin wants to hear those words on a loop; he feels strangely ecstatic when you say them.

And so, with a shaky voice and a sorrowful tone, Jeongin replies after pressing a kiss to your forehead — “I-I love you, t-too.”

His eyes flutter shut and he basks in your arms just one last time, holding you close to himself as he finally, finally finds himself at peace, next to you.

When your mother finds you both snuggled up and asleep together, a smile crosses her lips. A hopeful smile.

“Are you ready for your scan, Y/N?”

You feel oddly light today — one would say it’s because your body was close to shutting down completely, but your throat felt a bit, a tiny bit clearer and less barren than a fucking desert. Nevertheless, the scan does make you nervous. This would make clear how long the flowers would take to reach your throat — the doctor’s estimation was about three days, which seemed way too short for Jeongin.

Oh, how embarrassing it was when the nurses, all giggly and mushy-eyed, found you snuggled with Jeongin like a teddy bear at the early hours of the morning, waking you and Jeongin up and only cracking up more at your bewildered expressions when you find yourself tangled with each other.

Before the scan, Jeongin had held your hand softly, leaning down to press another kiss to your forehead. You’d shyly smiled, nodding before letting the nurse drag you to the scanning room.

The details of the scan itself aren’t important, it went pretty well — as decent as a scan could possibly go. You’re able to cooperate with your nurses pretty feasibly, you feel the sudden urge to get out of your wheelchair and try walking. Sure, you can still feel the choked feeling in your throat and the burn in your lungs, but somehow, it’s just a tiny bit lesser than usual. Maybe it’s because your painkillers are working more effectively. Maybe.

Jeongin’s waiting for you outside when you’re led out of the room, and he smiles when he sees you.

You don’t even remember what you’d said the previous night. All you remember was passing out while Jeongin was in the washroom, and then waking up to him cuddled up, warm and snug next to you. His features were clear and calm as the ocean on a sunny day, a small smile on his lips, as though he was dreaming about something happy. You hope he did, because that boy deserves the happiness.

“You seem energetic today.” Jeongin says, taking note of your perky demeanour, that only causes you to giggle slightly. 

Sure, you don’t remember the happenings of last night, but he does — and he’d promised himself to cherish every last second. Because in the end, it’s all he can do — for leading you to this state, for getting mad at you and wasting precious time in which he could’ve stayed with you. He’d promised to not let you live your last moment sad and desolated.

“I feel light, for some reason.” You mumble with a broken voice as Jeongin takes the wheelchair from the nurse, listening to what she has to say before bowing and nodding, leading you back to your room.

“What did she say?” You ask, fiddling with your thumbs.

“She said your scan results would come in an hour.” 

“Oh… alright.”

For some reason, you’re too joyous today, after the little surprise you got as soon as your eyes opened. You can’t seem to bother about the end— you want to live in this moment, right now.

When you come back to the room, Jeongin lifts you up bridal style, causing you to gasp before placing you down onto the bed. The nurse waiting there quickly fixes your IV and helps you sit into a comfortable position (though it’s hard when thorns keep pricking at your ribs) before bowing to the both of you, and leaving.

Your mother has once again left to go fix up the house, leaving you in the trust of your best friend. You aren’t complaining though, especially when Jeongin sits down beside your bed, taking your hand in his before playing with your nimble fingers — just like always.

He looks gorgeous today. After a lot of nagging from your mother, he’d used the hospital bathroom to wash his face and comb his hair neatly, and you’re happy about that because he looks fresher and happier than ever. You want him to be smiling and happy, even when you leave, because… did you need a reason? You just wanted him to be happy and content with his life.

The thought invokes an angsty feeling of melancholy, but you brush it away, trying to focus on Jeongin and the silence that drops on the both of you like a warm blanket. You smile softly at him, gently letting go of his hand before tucking a few strands of his hair behind his ear, almost melting when Jeongin’s eyes flutter close.

“Hey Jeongin?” You call, grabbing his hand once again and interlacing the fingers together.

“Yeah?”

“When I… leave,” You notice the twitch in his expression, but nonetheless, continue. “Will you bring me flowers every week?” 

You remember the red rose you’d found tucked behind your ear when you woke up — it had dried up a bit, but nonetheless, it was one of the prettiest objects you’d ever seen — even though there was a whole bouquet of them spewing out your mouth every two seconds.

“I will.” Jeongin sniffles. The thought of having to visit your grave every week to bring you flowers is immensely saddening, but Jeongin agrees anyways. He agrees, for you.

It’s the least he can do.

It’s funny how you say “leave”, like you’re going to your hometown for a month-long vacation and not actually like you’re going to be buried any time soon. Jeongin thinks it’s because you don’t want him to get too sad over his loss — a stupid thing to wish — Jeongin knows this loss is going to affect him in more ways than one.

“Jeongin, d-don’t cry…” You cup his cheek, gently brushing your thumb against his cheek and wiping away the tears that fall, one by one. Jeongin shakes his head, placing his palm on your hand and smiling at you.

“Can you do me another favor?”

“As many as you’d like Y/N.” He says. He’ll do anything you want — it’s your last wish after all.

“Bury me with my flower journal, please?” It may seem like a weird claim to bury oneself with a dusty old book, but Jeongin understands the significance — you want to hold onto those memories you made with him while writing it together, while picking flowers together and all those happy moments you exchanged.

Jeongin tries not to let his voice break again. “I will.”

You beam at his acceptance. Jeongin feels the slight thump of his heart against his chest, and a warm feeling envelopes him from inside. He’s suddenly overcome with an urge to press delicate kisses on your eyelids, though he tries to shoo it away, because it isn’t the main point of focus right now.

But soon your mother walks in, and it’s all small talk and deep conversations with her at the same time. You have breakfast, persuade (more like force) Jeongin to scarf down his meal and giggle about some random jokes thrown here and there, until the doctor comes in. Both Jeongin and your mother stand up, bowing and wishing good morning while you do too. Wish, not stand up. You’re basically tied to the bed at this point.

“Mrs L/N, I’d have had a word with you in private, but I think Miss Y/N needs to hear this too.” 

“What is it, doctor?”

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion and Jeongin’s grip on your hand tightens, thumb rubbing over your skin to soothe your obvious tension. The doctor slides the transparent, firm sheet off it’s envelope before letting the sunlight hit the back of it, in order to enable a clearer viewing.

“This is… the most unusual case I’ve ever seen, but —” He points to a junction on the scan. “The flowers have actually reduced in amount, and they've separated from the windpipe by a whole two inches. See?” He points at the edges of the lungs and at the windpipe, but you understand what he means. The flowers are there, no doubt, but it’s almost like — a whole stem of them just disappeared into thin air.

Of course this could’ve been because you coughed them up, but the coughed up flowers go instantly, or so you’ve heard. There’s confusion written on all of your faces right now.

“Is that why I was feeling lighter and easier to breathe today? Because the flowers withered off and gave more space for air?” You ask in your low voice, and your doctor nods.

“Seems like it. Do you have your previous scan?” Your mother hands it to him quickly after a great deal of fishing out of her purse.

He places the earlier scan behind the newer one, and suddenly, you can see what he means. It’s almost like they shrunk — you don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing, but nonetheless, you’re happy you can breathe a bit more.

“What does this mean, though?” Jeongin asks, bewildered at the strange news. The room is so quiet and the tension is thick enough to cut with a knife, and you can see both your mother and Jeongin waiting for the doctor’s words.

“It means that we’ll take another scan tomorrow, a deeper one. And check if the flowers are actually collecting somewhere else, or just disappearing. And if they are disappearing…” He trails off, and you giggle when Jeongin and your mother lean forward in anticipation, though curious yourself.

“She’ll be home by Christmas. Or even earlier, if the recovery speed is fast.”

“Y-You mean… I can be cured?” Your voice shakes with hope, and the doctor smiles sweetly at you, before nodding.

“Yes dear, you’ll be the first patient who’s walked out of this place cured from hanahaki.”

At that moment, it almost feels like every flower inside your chest wilts out — you feel so light, so ecstatic. You’re over the clouds at the news, and don’t even hear your mother’s cries of thankfulness before the doctor heads out.

“Y/N!” Jeongin exclaims, ignoring the fluttering feeling in his heart and the burn in his cheeks when he cups your own. “You’re gonna come home!”

You shake with soft sobs, and smile at Jeongin.

“I’m gonna come home.” Provided the scan tomorrow showed a positive result, but you don’t bother to mention that part.

And the next day, when your scan results come back, a huge smile adorns your face, and your mother is in tears. Happy tears.

The sunshine is overly bright today, leaving you squinting for sight, especially when you’re seated in a garden out in the open, book in one hand and the other one resting against the cool, moist grass. The air holds a musky forest scent, and you revel in the feeling of the shivers the cold air that cuts through skin brings.

The park is relatively empty for the morning — you’re glad it is, because it brings on a sense of calmness that you seem to like. The surroundings are just perfect — you don’t want anyone to disrupt your mood right now.

So yeah. The story ends that way. You recover, bit by bit, though it takes a whole bunch of time. There were times when you still had to cough out those petals, but you couldn’t be happier — it felt as though you were spitting out those vicious thorns that had tormented and threatened your life. The doctors had no idea how you’d managed to recover — but this was an interesting case to put into their portfolio, so they weren’t complaining.

And oh, you had Jeongin to help you through all of it, of course. 

It had taken you two weeks to be discharged from the hospital and be able to finally walk again, but when you did it — you felt like a whole new person, in a whole new world. Sure, you had to hold onto your mother or Jeongin wherever you went for the first week or so — it was almost like your legs had turned jelly.

When you returned home, Jeongin insisted that he take you to the garden every day, and when you complained that you couldn’t walk, he’d lifted you into his arms (bridal style, again) and carried you all the way there, and then given you a piggyback ride you all the way back home.

Eventually, you ended up telling him the truth — that the unrequited love that caused everything was because of how you’d fallen for him. You figured he deserved it, especially when he’d stuck with you the whole time without any hesitation and helped you whenever he could — he was truly one of the nicest, kindest people you’d ever met.

Of course, you were surprised when Jeongin only smiled and told you that he knew what you were talking about, and then proceeded to narrate how he’d overheard you in the hospital. Giggles left his lips when you gave him that meme-worthy look, making him shake his head before slinging and arm over his shoulder.

Surprisingly, that night ended just like the books — lovey-dovey confessions exchanged in the warm and intimate setting of the night sky, over shy smiles and lingering kisses. The both of you finally gave in to each other.

Huh, so maybe you were wrong about them — books — after all.

So when, your love was returned in the end, every flower in your chest had finally disappeared, and you couldn’t have been happier.

“You know when I brought you here I wanted you to help me pick flowers and not read a book?”

You laugh at the voice that comes from behind, closing the book shut before placing it on the side while Jeongin takes a seat beside you, hissing at the slight coldness of the grass. Ah, what a romantic scenario — green and colorful flowers as far as the eye could see, a book that you’ve been trying to finish but have never been able to because your boyfriend keeps interrupting you with his random outbursts of affection, and said person sitting right next to you.

“Well, you keep interrupting me all the time!” You chuckle, sliding a hand behind his shoulder before pulling him down to lie on your lap, and Jeongin complies. A sigh of content leaves his lips when he feels your fingers comb through his hair to rid them of any tangles — Jeongin feels stupid to not realise how much he loves you. It feels nice to call you his, feels nice to be able to say I love you, in all of it’s true meaning.

“What, I can’t cuddle my girlfriend now? Come on,” He takes your other hand in his, turning onto his back to look up at you before pressing his lips to the back of your hand. You feel the heat creep up your cheeks when he calls you his girlfriend, still not being able to take it in without growing immensely shy.

“You crybaby, fine. I’ll read the book later only because I love you and you give exceptionally nice cuddles.”

“Hmm, good.” He mumbles sleepily, eyes fluttering shut in calmness when he feels your fingers brush away any stray locks of hair that may get into his eyes. The reaction to your touch is so immediate these days, Jeongin thinks it’s a part of his routine now. Spend at least an hour admiring you in all of your happy, healthy glory.

Meanwhile, you’re sitting there, admiring his features in silence. His hair has grown longer now — Jeongin refuses to cut it no matter your endless verbalizations of how his original haircut looked better — and a small part of you has grown fond of this look too. His warm skin, and his sparkly eyes when he looks up at you, the bright, loving smile that he displays before getting out of your lap, kissing you on your lips to break you out of your focus.

The action only makes you more shy, and Jeongin laughs, cooing at your behavior before standing up, dusting his clothes off the dirt and extending his hand for you.

“Lend me a hand, will you?”

The line seems vaguely familiar and you’re overcome with a sense of deja vu, but nonetheless, you give him your hand, standing up before picking up your satchel and handing him his own.

“Now are you gonna pick a rose for me or do I have to do it myself again?” Jeongin raises an eyebrow and smirks, and you frown, slapping his arm before walking off to check all the flowers in their bushes.

“Hey, wait for me! Y/N!”

When he reaches you, he slides a hand into your own, interlacing the fingers before looking at you lovingly.

“I love you.” You both say at the same time, giggling at each other soon after — perhaps at how well you knew each other to time the confession so well.

So, this is how it ends. While you do think that things could’ve been handled differently, you’re glad that everything went the way it went, because in the end, you’d found him, he’d found you, you’d discovered your feelings together. You loved each other.

Because love and a red rose could never be truly hid.

but what if she had never recovered?

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[silverdragon-imagines-blog]

Trumpets of Demise

[This was another one-shot that was done for a write-off on February 11th, 2021. This one follows the previous write-off fic “Faron Ruins”, but is maybe a bit more sad or upsetting. This is unedited and most likely won’t be posted anywhere else, so I hope you enjoy ^u^ Mind the tags and warnings.]

Prompt: Poison

Warning(s): Poisoning, hallucinations caused by poison, paralysis caused by poison, unconsciousness and assumed character death due to poison, permanent injury

The air was humid after the rainstorm, the ground was slick and slightly dangerous as they left the cave and headed down the path towards what they all hoped was a stable. Wild kept stealing glances back at Hyrule and Warriors, the latter leaning heavily on the former’s shoulders. He still felt guilty, the feeling causing his skin to prickle and nervously glance behind him as they walked on. Maybe that was why he never noticed what was happening in front of the group.

“Whoa, look at these things,” Wind called back, pointing to large downturned flowers, a vibrant red color, “They’re huge!”

“Hmm, I don’t think I’ve seen these before,” Sky approached, raising a hand to touch the soft-looking flower petals, “I wonder if Wild knows what these are.”

“They look dangerous, don’t get too close,” Legend spoke, nudging the two away, “the sooner we get moving, the better. Some of us aren’t doing too well.”

The two looked sheepish as they hurried after the others, gradually being left behind. They weren’t too far ahead now, in fact, they should have been catching up to them soon… right?

“Hey, uh, does anyone else see that, or is it just me?”

Sky looked over to see Wind pointing just over a nearby cliff, but there was nothing there but trees. Legend pushed him along, shaking his head.

“C’mon Sailor, we can look at the sights once we’re at the stable Wild was talking about.”

“B-but don’t you see it? There’s a giant bird over there.”

“Really?” Sky looked over again, peering closer at the foliage to try and find what Wind was talking about, hoping for a glimpse of a Loftwing.

“Hey, Flyboy! Keep it moving, we’re falling behind!”

He flinched, starting to hurry after them before he was left behind. The air was starting to become a bit heavier again, his lungs not quite able to take in the oxygen he needed. He struggled onwards, trying to keep pace despite his heart beating faster than normal. It was as he caught up to them and the rest of the group that Legend suddenly collapsed. A shout from Wind alerted the others, Hyrule near dropping Warriors in order to run to his predecessor’s aid. Twilight stopped him, running back instead.

“What happened?”

“He just collapsed,” Sky panted, clutching at his chest, “Not sure what happened.”

Twilight’s brow furrowed, concerned as he picked up the still form of the Veteran hero. Sky grabbed ahold of Wind’s hand, keeping him moving so as not to lose the group again. He could feel his grip loosening and tightening with every step, his heart racing despite the short break he took earlier. Something wasn’t right, but he wasn’t sure what was going on to make him feel this way.

“Wh-what’s going on?”

Twilight turned his head, looking concerned, but Sky couldn’t figure out why.

“We’re going to Faron Stable. Legend collapsed and I’m making sure you and Wind stay with the group.”

“Oh, okay.”

Wind was tugging at his hand, but Sky couldn’t hear what he was saying. It was as though his ears were filled with downy fluff, almost rendering him deaf. He was walking forwards, but each step seemed to make him more tired. He was following Twilight, keeping his eyes focused on the wolf pelt in front of him, each blink dragging his eyelids down and making them harder to open again. What was going on?

“C-can we stop for a bit? I can’t catch my breath.”

Twilight nodded, or at least Sky thought that’s what he was seeing as he was lead to a rock he could sit down on top of. He sat heavily, leaning back as he tried to steady his breathing. Wind was next to him, looking up at the trees at something. Twilight was trying to get Legend to wake up again, but the shaking wasn’t working very well. Sky was just so tired, but they hadn’t been walking for that long at all. He shouldn’t still be breathing this heavily either, he was sitting, taking deep breaths and relaxing, but his heart just kept beating fast. 

“I’m just gonna rest for a bit, okay?”

Sky didn’t hear the response, leaning all the way back and closing his eyes. He would just sleep for a few minutes, that was all he needed.

====

Twilight knew he shouldn’t have let him fall asleep. He knew it as soon as Sky asked to rest, but now it was too late. Legend was starting to come to finally, and Wind was starting to make sense again, but Sky wasn’t waking up… He had a feeling the Chosen Hero wouldn’t wake up again.

With Legend able to walk again, keeping a firm grip on Wind’s wrist, Twilight picked up Sky and they continued on. The stable was within view now, he could just about see Wild pacing in the middle of the road. The Cub was worried and Twilight was only scared that he would add more stress to his mind.

“You’re okay!” Wild ran towards them, smiling with relief until he properly saw them all, his eyes widening at the sight of Sky’s body, “What happened? What’s wrong with Sky?”

“He said he was tired so he fell asleep,” Wind said, but it was clear that the Sailor thought the same as he did. Sky wasn’t going to wake up, or at least, not without a miracle.

Twilight moved past him, nudging Wind to follow him to the stable, leaving Legend with a distraught Wild.

“How? There were no monsters…”

“How about a pretty looking flower? Vibrant red and with the petals hanging down.”

Wild’s eyes widened, shaking his head as he registered what he had been told.

“I thought I managed to destroy all of those… I made sure of it…”

“So what were those, then?” Legend asked, crossing his arms, “Wind and Sky got pretty close to ‘em, and it’s clear you know what they are.”

“We call them the Trumpet of Demise, it’s a pretty flower, but it’s deadly. The smell of it is enough to mess with your body and kill you… Sky must have gotten very close.”

The Veteran sighed, placing a hand on Wild’s shoulder. He looked sad, but understanding.

“It’s not your fault, you didn’t know and neither did we. It’ll be okay.”

It was wishful thinking at best, but Wild nodded, agreeing even if the guilt just felt like it was growing thorns in his chest, threatening to choke him. How much more would he mess up? If this was punishment for failing to stop the blight upon his Era, then maybe he deserved everything that befell him. It was only fair.

Sky woke up again later, but he could no longer speak or hear. Wild only wished that he could make up for it, for taking even more from his friends. Warriors may have forgiven him, much like Sky was doing now, but that didn’t mean he would forgive himself. Hylia knows he doesn’t deserve that.

[kumeko]

A/N: For the Pandora Hearts Reverse Big Bang! My partner Hadrian drew an adorable piece of the three of them sleeping together and I wanted to write a fluffy AU for that (look, I really need a world where Lacie and Oswald live).

…

…

…

…

At twenty, Gilbert Nightray was used to plans going awry. It was par the course when it came to the mischievous Oz Vessalius. Despite being childhood friends for over 15 years, the only thing Gil could predict about Oz was that his suggestions never went as expected. Toss in the ever-hungry Alice, and well, there really was no point in planning, just preparing. Luckily, that was something Gil was good at. Every time they went off on an adventure, he packed a bag full of first aid kits, healing potions, and enough supplies to last a week.

 However, even he couldn’t have predicted the situation they were in. As they raced through the forest, Gil glanced over his shoulder to confirm that yes, a giant elephant-sized boar was chasing them. He pressed a hand against his hat to keep it from flying off.

 “Why are we running?” Oz asked breathlessly, just barely managing to keep apace. His physical strength wasn’t great on his best days, and after he’d been cursed…well, what little muscle he’d gained in the past ten years was gone.

 “Why do you think?” Gil snapped, his trench coat flapping behind him as he leapt over an overgrown root. Behind him the boar angrily snapped his head at an offending tree, skewering it with his horns. Wood splintered from the onslaught and Gil paled—that could have easily been them. That could still be them.

“We could just fight it!” Oz argued, his green eyes glowing slightly as he started to summon his magic.

 “Your magic isn’t what it used to be,” Gil argued, resisting the urge to tuck him under his arm like a ball and just sprint out. He probably could. Oz was ten now, not twenty, and as tiny as he was, he’d be easy to carry.

 “I want to eat him,” Alice announced, her eyes taking on a more rabbit-like appearance.  

 “Aren’t rabbits supposed to be herbivores?” Gil immediately whacked the back of her head. Maybe he should just tuck both of them under his arm—two ten-year-olds couldn’t be that heavy, right? “We’re only barely ahead of that thing because the forest’s slowing it down.”

 “But he could be tasty,” Alice protested, glancing over her shoulder. She licked her lips in anticipation.

 “Why is it always food for you?” Gil grumbled. Honestly, Alice’s first approach to everything was bite first, ask questions later.

 “Because meat is king,” she declared triumphantly. Why was that her answer to everything? Her physical strength was far greater than Oz’s, no matter what age. Gil wished it wasn’t; he’d rather hear her wheeze and pant than be forced to listen to whatever stupid inane thought crossed her mind.

 “And you’re too weak too fight,” Gil pointed out, feeling a headache forming. He had medicine for that. “You guys are younger, you can’t act like you normally do! You,” he turned to Oz, “Don’t have the magical reserves. And you,” he directed his glare at Alice, “Can’t fight like you used to.”

 Alice’s cheeks puffed, the sign of an impending sulk and Gil’s headache worsened. Oz frowned. “We could still fight it.”

 “Didn’t you promise Oscar you’d stay out of trouble?” Gil pleaded, ducking an overly tall branch. While the boar was slower, he hadn’t stopped. Every step caused a tremor and it was a miracle none of them had fallen over yet.

 “But—” Oz whined.

 “And Lacie—” Gil cut himself off immediately; it was always a mistake to bring up Alice’s mother. She was even wilder than her daughter. A better tack was her overprotective uncle. “Oswald? Did you agree to be careful for him?”

 “Booo,” Alice pouted as she hopped over a stone. “I can fight.”

 The earth shook behind them. Gil barked, “Not against that!”

 And then, before they could protest, he grabbed their hands. If he had to drag them to safety, he would.

 -x-

 “I think we’re getting close,” Alice muttered, sniffing the air as she lifted a branch with a hand. While she hadn’t fully transformed into her rabbit form, her red eyes and long, claw-like fingers gave her an inhuman look.

 Gil could never get used to her partial transformations. Full transformations were fine, he could handle giant, bow-tied rabbits and short, ill-tempered women. Actually, considering how much Alice ate, it was amazing that she’d never grown taller, that even at twenty she couldn’t reach higher than his chest. Pulling his gun out of its holster, he asked, “Are you sure?”

 “What do you mean, am I sure?” Irate, she glared at him. It was more annoying than intimidating. “My nose is better than yours.”

 “Only if you’re actually using it properly and not smelling meat like last time,” he whispered back, trying to keep his voice down. “You’re a rabbit, how does that work?”

 Alice snorted. “Meat is king.”

 Gil stared at her. She’d said that with utter confidence, as though those three words explained everything. In fact, she’d been so matter-of-factly about it that for a minute, he’d doubted himself. That maybe he was the one ignorant to the ways of the world.

 On his right, Oz snickered as he drew his sword. The metal looked dull in the dim light. “She got you there.”

 That was enough to snap him out of it. “That doesn’t explain anything!”

 “It explains everything,” she retorted, hands on her hips, her quarry all but forgotten. “What more do you need?”

 Gil knew he ought to be the bigger person. They had a guild mission, after all, and that came before any petty differences between them. If Alice wanted to act like a child, like she often did, he shouldn’t stoop to her level. No, he should finish securing the pixie they’d been hunting for days, saving a village from its mischief, ensuring that his standing in the ranks didn’t—

 “If your head wasn’t made of seaweed, you’d understand,” she added with a presumptuous sniff.

 Gil forced his lips into a tight smile, resisting the urge to react. There’s no point in arguing with her, he reminded himself. Be the adult.

 “Where is the pixie?” he asked through gritted teeth. The sooner they finished with this, the sooner they’d go back.

 “Over there,” Oz replied, whistling softly as he peeked through the brush. “I think he’s asleep.”

 “That’s good.” Gil brightened at this one speck of good news. “Is there anyone—”

 Before he looked, before he even finished his sentence, Oz pointed at the pixie. “Alice, go!”

 Without hesitation, Alice ran forward, transforming into a giant rabbit as she did. There was a large scythe in her hands now, pulled out from whatever pocket dimension she’d left it in. “Just stay there and watch,” she ordered before disappearing into the foliage.

 Gil’s jaw dropped. “Oz!”

 “Come on, Gil!” Oz grabbed his hand, smiling innocently. Almost all of their misadventures had started with that smile.  “We can’t let her have all the fun!”

 “Why do you always do this?” Gil hissed, not sure how he’d force them to understand this one, common sense idea. “We should have to plan first!”

 He followed anyways—he’d never been able to say no to Oz, and he doubted he’d ever will. They were almost the same height, with Oz slightly shorter despite all of the milk he drank. There was something comforting about the back of his head, of that golden hair, and maybe it was that for all of the trouble they’d gotten into over the years, they’d always ended up fine at the end of it. Oz was strangely reliable.

 “It’s just a pixie,” Oz scoffed, trotting quickly after Alice. “She’s going to catch it before we get there.”

 In hindsight, those were famous last words. As soon as they made it past a particularly thick tree, pushing through the branches to reach a small clearing, they found Alice in the center. She slammed down her scythe at a pixie that was almost half her size. The creature had iridescent wings that fluttered quickly as he dodged her attack.

 “That’s a big pixie,” Oz muttered. He held his sword loosely. “I don’t think the cage we got is big enough for him.”

 “Me neither…” Gil frowned, pulling out his gun and several enchanted bullets. “Maybe we can knock him out.”

 Alice struck again, her scythe almost cleaving the creature in two. Which would have solved the transportation issue but luckily the pixie parried her attack. It almost knocked her off balance and she flipped backwards to stabilize herself. Legs tense, she prepared to strike again when the pixie shot her with a green bolt of magic.

 Smoke filled the air and Gil’s eyes widened as she disappeared. “Alice!”

 “Alice!” Oz yelled as he charged through the smoke to get to her.

 “I’m fine.” Alice coughed, still hidden by the smoke.

 The pixie cackled and Gil cocked his gun, looking for their enemy. It was time they took this battle seriously. Trees lined their small clearing, leaving many places to hide if the pixie headed for the shadows. Craning his head left and right, he couldn’t find their target.

 The smoke drifted past him slowly, dissipating as the gentle wind blew, and Gil glanced at where he’d last seen Alice. As the air cleared, he couldn’t find a big, stocky humanoid rabbit.

 Instead, he saw a small, child-sized rabbit. While it was dressed in Alice’s clothes, they were far too big for the rabbit, and they hung off it loosely.

 Oz stood in front of the rabbit, his lips parted in surprise. “Alice?”

 The rabbit’s ears twitched, and she looked up at him. “Why are you so big?”

 “Did he shrink you?” Gil asked, wishing he had his brother’s skills in magic identification.

 “Shrink?” Alice stood stock still, looking from Oz to Gil to the trees. If she didn’t have black fur, he was certain she’d be pale as a ghost. She tried to pick up her now too-heavy scythe, the handle oversized in her hands, before dropping it in horror. “WHAT HAPPENED?”

 “Oh wow!” Oz crouched in front of her, recovering from his shock entirely. Reaching forward, he rubbed her ears. “You’re so cute now!”

 “I’m not cute, I’m terrifying,” Alice retorted, growling slightly. She didn’t pull away from his touch though and Gil stored that info away to taunt her with later.

 “Of course you are,” Oz cooed.

 From the corner of his eyes, Gil saw something move. He spun on his heel, gun raised, finger on the trigger. There was the pixie, hovering in the air, another green bolt in his fingers.

 “Watch out!” Gil shouted, already squeezing the trigger.

 BANG! A bullet pierced through the air. As it reached the pixie, it transformed into a net, entangling the prankster.

 Jerking back in surprise, the pixie released its bolt. The green energy arced through the air before hitting Oz square in the back. Another burst of smoke filled the area.

 “Oz!” Gil shouted, racing forward to knock out the pixie before he could do anymore damage.

 “Wow, that tickled,” Oz replied, coughing slightly. After a moment, he swore. “Shit.”

 Oz rarely swore openly, and Gil swallowed as he turned to where his best friend stood. The air had cleared now, leaving behind a blonde child. His cloak hung loosely on his frame, almost slipping off his shoulders. His sword, now too heavy for him, fell out of his hands with a clatter.

 “You’re a kid,” Gil stated, realization dawning.

 Alice transformed back into her human form, confirming his fears: she looked like a kid too. With a smug smirk, she wrapped an arm around Oz, ignoring how her clothes almost fell off her. “Ha, who’s the cute one now?”

 -x-

 Gil groaned as he leaned against the hard wall of the crevice they were hiding in. No matter how many times he thought about how they ended up in this situation, it felt ridiculous.

 “I think we’re safe now,” Oz whispered, poking his head out of their hole. Gil almost jerked him in reflexively. In the bright afternoon light, Oz was hard to miss.

 “I can’t smell him anymore,” Alice muttered, sulking as she crouched in the back of the small cave. With a stick, she drew pictures of pork chops and ham on the dirt ground.

 “Good.” Gil sighed, relaxing against the wall. He wanted nothing more than a hot bath but settled for sitting on the ground. These days, he felt more babysitter than adventurer. His nerves couldn’t take much more of this. “Next time I say run, run.”

 Oz pouted. “I still think we could have taken it,” he muttered.

 Gil gave him a tired look. “Oz.”

 “But that’s not why we’re here,” Oz admitted, which was as close to an apology as he’d get. Crouching in front of Gil, he reached up to ruffle his hair. “Good job!”

 “I’m not the stupid rabbit,” Gil muttered, looking away. Yet he didn’t pull away and maybe that was something he and Alice had in common.

 Unfortunately.

 Oz chuckled, letting go and stepping back. “Alright, let’s finish our mission! I want to be tall again! I want to bully Gil properly again!”

 “Don’t bully me,” Gil grumbled half-heartedly, trying not to smile.

 “I want meat!” Alice chimed in. Gil wasn’t sure if she hadn’t followed the conversation or if she just didn’t care about it.

 Oz looked at him expectedly and Gil sighed. Standing up now, he shoved his hands in his pockets. “I want to stop worrying about you two.”

 “Oh, Gil.” Oz chuckled, though he looked touched. Standing up, he beamed at him, no malice in his voice. “You’ll always worry about us.”

 The truth in his words cut deep and Gil flushed. Coughing into his hand, he looked away. “I want to worry about you less.”

 Oz bumped into him lightly and nodded. “Alright, then we just have to find those berries, right?”

 “Yeah, Break said you just had to eat them and you should turn back to normal…” Gil trailed off. As reliable as his mentor was, he was also the kind of liar who’d take advantage of the situation to play a prank or run an experiment. There was a reason he and Oz got along; they were far too alike and Gil wished he could have stopped them from meeting. “It’ll work, right?”

 Alice growled at Break’s name and looked around quickly. Suspiciously, she lifted a rock, squinting at the dirt beneath it. “He’s not here?”

 “Of course not, or we’d have just fought that boar,” Gil scoffed, rolling his eyes. This whole mission would have gone better if they’d just brought one other person. How he ever let Oz talk him into coming here without backup, Gil couldn’t explain.

 “Nothing to it then.” Oz stretched his arms above his head, looking oddly refreshed. “We’ll just have to get those berries. They’re at the top of the mountain, right?”

 As usual, Alice thought with her stomach. “I hope they’re yummy.”

 “Maybe we should take a couple extra with us,” Oz suggested, rubbing his chin. He scowled. “I can’t believe the pixie couldn’t just turn us back.”

 Gil slouched over slightly. “I should have caught him sooner.”

 “And I probably should have listened to you earlier.” Oz reached up to pat him on the back. “Still, it’s kinda fun pretending to be my own love-child.”

 That was the first Gil heard about it. Aghast, he stared down at his friend. “Your what?”

 “Sec-ret love child,” Oz repeated slowly. Chuckling, he walked over to Alice and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “By the way, I told all the maids that she’s yours.”

 “Mine?” Gil screeched, forgetting all about the boar, the berries, or even the need to hide. He almost fell backwards and leaned against the wall for support.

 Alice grabbed Oz’s collar. “I’m what?”

 “The maids think it’s cute?” Oz weakly warbled, realizing a little too late that maybe he shouldn’t have admitted this in a cave in the middle of nowhere.

 They should start making their way up the mountain. They should be quiet. They should conserve their strength.

 Gil stepped out of the cave for a breath of fresh air, ignoring the ruckus behind him. Oz could wait a few minutes before getting saved.

 -x-

 Hilariously, by the time they reached top of the mountain, Oz’s worst injuries were still from the cave. The rest of the trip had been as eventful as their first few minutes in the forest—as weak as Oz and Alice were now, their only options were to run and hide from monsters.

 Unfortunately, on this mountain this meant a lot of running and hiding. Gil’s arms were sore from dragging Alice away; she honestly thought she could take on every beast they met and Gil didn’t have nearly enough healing magic to prove her wrong.

 As they reached a plateau on the top, a large field filled with wildflowers, Gil was too exhausted to do anything more than just collapse. He stared up at the night sky, surprised. The afternoon felt like it had only been minutes ago, and yet there the stars were, twinkling above. “Is this it?”

 “I hope so.” A worn Oz lay down on the long grasses next to him, sounding as ragged as Gil felt. For all of his adventuring, his stamina had always been terrible. “We just need to find the berries now, right?”

 “And then make it back down.” Gil covered his eyes with the back of his hand and took a deep breath. A sickly-sweet scent filled his lungs and he coughed. “That’s strong.”

 “It’s disgusting.” Next to him, Oz wrinkled his nose. Despite his affection for sweets, he didn’t like the cloying scent either. “What are these flowers?”

 “Not sure.” Gil looked to his right, at the flower brushing his cheek. It had a dark lilac colour, barely visible in the moonlight. Neon blue spots dotted the petals, giving the plant an eerie look. Something about it tickled his memory as he slowly sat up. “Where have I seen that before?”

 “A book?” Oz guessed flippantly. Lifting his head, he scanned their surroundings. “Where’s Alice?”

 “Hmm?” Still focused on the flower, he glanced around haphazardly. The field was penned with trees, though they were so far out he couldn’t make out their individual shapes. “Maybe in the forest? Or by the bushes?”

 “Alice?” Oz called out, scrambling to his feet despite his aching limbs. There wasn’t a response, just the wind through the trees, and he yelled again, “ALICE!”

 This time, a small voice called out. Gil couldn’t make out the words. To their left, a small figure dashed toward them, growing bigger until he could make out Alice’s bright grin. “Oz!”

 “There you are!” Oz relaxed. Clasping his hands behind him, he acted as though he hadn’t been worried seconds ago. “Where’d you go?”

 “To the berries of course.” Alice snorted, holding out her right hand to reveal a small pile of the very berries they were looking for. “Unlike you lazy bones, I can get the job done.”

 For once, Gil was too tired to argue. He merely plucked on, inspecting it. It was a bright yellow, like the sun, and the leaves had an oval-like shape outlined with prickly points. All in all, it looked just like the ones Break had shown him before. Begrudgingly, he praised her. “Good job.”

 Alice lit up. “It was a good job, right?”

 She beamed happily at him before leaning forward expectantly. Gil sighed and reached out, patting her head. “That’s what I said.”

 She bounced on her feet before she stood up straight once more. “Now we can get big again!”

 Oz gingerly took one berry from her hand, eyeing it thoughtfully. “These are the right ones, right?”

 “Gil just said they were,” Alice pouted, her cheeks puffing up like a chipmunk.

 “If I die, I’m haunting you,” Oz muttered before swallowing the berry. He scowled. “That’s even sweeter.”

 “It’s like honey,” Alice added, utterly enamoured. She ate another one before Gil could stop her.

 “Hey, wait!” Gil snatched the rest of the berries out of her hand. A few were crushed between his fingers, their delicious juices dripping down his fingers. His raised his hand out of her reach. “You don’t know what eating more could do to you.”

 “But it tastes so good,” Alice grumbled, jumping up to grab the sweet treat. When it was obvious that she couldn’t reach, she stomped on his foot.

 “Ouch!” Gil glared at her, stepping back. “You stupid rabbit—”

 “Seaweed head—” Alice growled back.

 “Nothing’s happening,” Oz interrupted smoothly, frowning. He looked at his hands. “I’m not getting taller.” He paused. “Or older.”

 “Why in that order—” Gil shook his head, focusing on the actual issue. He glanced at Alice, who still couldn’t reach his chest, let alone his shoulders. “Alice isn’t either.”

 “That’s strange…” Oz sat down once more, plucking a flower and twirling it between his fingers. “Maybe it takes time?”

 “Or maybe you have to sleep…” Gil trailed off, realization dawning. Crouching, he inspected the flowers once more before covering his mouth. “Cover your mouths!”

 It was too late. He heard a soft thud, followed by another, and he found both Alice and Oz passed out. His own vision was going dark and he silently swore before collapsing as well.

 -x-

 “They’re so cute,” Lacie cooed, tucking a lock behind her ear as she stared down at her daughter and her friends. The trio were curled up together, instinctively seeking each other even when unconscious. “I need a picture.”

 “Lacie,” Oswald murmured, giving her a baleful look as he crouched next to Alice. They were breathing at least. “We need to take them back.”

 “Do we?” Lacie sighed, pouting slightly as she knelt next to Oz. Her puffy dress spread around her like a mushroom. She gently pushed his hair out of his face. “They look so peaceful.”

 Break poked Gil’s cheeks, chuckling. It was obvious they were master and apprentice; their uniforms were far too similar to claim otherwise. “They do. We should draw on their faces.”

 That stopped Oswald and he looked at Break, his expression blank. “What?”

 “It’ll be fun!” Break chuckled, glancing at the field around them. In the day, the flowers were closed, the air crisp and clean. “It’ll be a punishment for not bringing us with them. And for entering this field at night. They should have known better.”

 “Yep.” Lacie nodded sagely, already pulling out a marker from her purse. “These flowers’ scents are like a sleeping spell. They should have remembered.”

 “None of them paid attention to my lessons.” Break raised a sleeve and wiped an imaginary tear.

 “Or my training.” Lacie hunched forward, sighing sadly.

 Already hoisting Alice in his arms, Oswald looked back and forth between the pair. They both looked at him with watery eyes and he flinched.  “I guess…”

 And just like that, they both grinned, pulling out markers from who-knows-where. “Great!” Lacie chirped, drawing a spiral on Oz’s cheek.

 “He’ll never forget,” Break chimed in, giving Gilbert glasses and a mustache.

 Oswald held Alice tighter. Maybe he should just save her and run.

[delimeful]

golden harp

Day 21: Bean

warnings: fear, captivity, jerk giants :( 

jack and the beanstalk au based off the fake title prompt i made up here!

-

Virgil should have known better than to sleep after a failed bartering trip, but he was exhausted after a long day of traveling, and he hadn’t once gotten the feeling that someone was tailing him. He’d thought he was fairly good at guessing, but his luck had to run out eventually. 

It just so happened that it ran out for a more dangerous opponent than most. Because of course it did. 

While at the market, he’d refused the beans each of the three times the stranger tried to push them on him. Each time, the stranger’s price was lower than before and they grew more desperate, only confirming Virgil’s suspicion that whatever was wrong with those beans, he wanted no part of it. He’d been cursed before, and it was a pain in the ass to fix. 

Still, three was the customary number for these sort of things. He hadn’t expected to be followed home, and he certainly hadn’t expected the bastard to have planted the seeds under his porch, but here he was, clinging to his bed for dear life as his house rose further and further into the air. 

Outside his bedroom window he could see huge green leaves blooming quicker than any natural plant, the beanstalk growing and growing until the air grew thin and foggy with clouds. A final upward jolt, and everything finally stopped shaking around him. 

He hurried over to the window, scanning the landscape. Giant foliage, mountains over clouds. It was the Land of Giants, alright. 

Well, time to get the heck out. 

Virgil hurried from room to room, collecting his most important belongings and shoving them into a backpack. There were no giants visible outside now, sure, but he’d never put stock into the rumors that they’d gone extinct. The stories were all too convenient, bait to scam dumb adventurers into fights they couldn’t possibly win. Even just the local wildlife could be hazardous, anyways. 

No, he was going to get everything together and climb right down that beanstalk. His house could be rebuilt once he got back to a world his size. 

Luckily, most of his stuff was packed already from yesterday’s trip, so it didn’t take long. He was struggling to open his jammed door when he heard it. A rhythmic pounding, growing louder and louder. He’d never heard the sound before, at least not on this scale, but he wasn’t an idiot. Those were footsteps. And they were getting closer, quick.

His anxiety shot through the roof, and he gave up on subtlety as he slammed his shoulder into the door, once, twice- 

He broke through on the third hit, and just in time, for as soon as he hit the ground, there was a splintering crash behind him. He twisted, the blood draining from his face as he took in the shoe that had effectively stomped half of his house into wooden bits. That could have been him. 

“What in the- ?” A rumbling voice asked, and Virgil quickly scrambled to his feet. 

Correction: That could be him, if he didn’t get his head out of the clouds. 

He ducked through oversized blades of grass, doing his best to ignore the sharp cry of the giant as it spotted him. The giant footsteps on his tail were harder to ignore, though, and when a shadow fell over him he couldn’t help but cry out in fear, curling in on himself. 

Rather than being crushed into the ground, however, he was lifted into the air like a pillbug, tugged up by the bulk of his backpack. He clung to the straps, the ground pulling away too fast for him to try and slip out of it. All too soon he was brought to dangle in front of a giant face.

“Ugh, a human.” The giant frowned at him. “Come to trick and steal from us, then? You’re doing a tremendously poor job so far.” 

Virgil forced himself to take a breath, still all curled up as to present a smaller target. “I’m not. I didn’t mean to come here, I-”

“Oh, sure.” The giant’s doubtful voice overpowered his easily. “That’s what they all say, but you don’t climb a beanstalk on accident.”

“I didn’t! My house- !”

“A likely story. I know how humans operate, I don’t care what sort of grand tale you want to weave, I won’t be having it.” The giant reached up and tugged on Virgil’s legs, pulling on the bag at the same time. 

Despite his best efforts, Virgil’s grip was nothing in the face of that monstrous strength, and the straps were torn roughly from his arms, leaving his legs clenched in a giant fist. “No!”    

“There we are.” The giant dropped the bag into his shirt pocket, far out of Virgil’s reach, and he felt his heart sink. He knew that he probably wasn’t going to get out of this one either way, but there was something incredibly disheartening about watching someone take everything you own away with one hand.

The giant adjusted his hold on Virgil, prodding him with oversized fingers. “You don’t have any weapons on you, right?” 

He wished. “No, I didn’t come to fight! I didn’t even mean to come here!” 

“You’re absolutely right you don’t want to fight. I could squish you like a bug, toothpick weapons or not.” The giant squeezed Virgil slightly in demonstration, and the band of panic around his chest tightened painfully. “But I won’t, since I’m not like your barbaric kind.” 

“Can you just let me go?” Virgil asked, voice faint. “I won’t come back, I don’t have any beans, please-” 

“And have you lead more humans up here to rob and murder us? I don’t think so. We’ll figure out what to do with you once I get home.”

Who’s ‘we’, Virgil wanted to ask, but his mouth barely formed the first syllable before his shallow breathing became too much, the edges of his vision darkening until he finally passed out. 

-

When he woke, he was laying on a cool wooden surface, and there were loud voices arguing above him. Wait. Not loud… Big.

“I don’t know what you want me to say. You know my thoughts on the matter-”

“And I think just ditching him out there leaves too much to chance! We wouldn’t even know if he made it back down there until an army of humans showed up on our doorstep.”

“Are you going to kill him, then?” 

A tense pause. Virgil regretfully acknowledged that this wasn’t a vivid dream he’d had while napping on the floor at home.

“... No.”

“Then what do you suggest we do, Roman?” 

“I don’t know!” The shout was enough to make Virgil flinch, only for a second. He went back to laying still, hoping neither had seen. 

“... He’s awake.” The colder voice stated, and Virgil grimaced. Still, he refused to move. The terrible situation he was in didn’t exist until he acknowledged it. 

A strong force prodded at his side, and he shot upright, coughing, and smacked the giant finger like an offended cat.

“Don’t pretend to be asleep and eavesdrop, you little sneak.” The giant from before was looking down at him, eyes narrowed in a glare. 

Virgil glared back, heart racing. “Maybe don’t kidnap me then!” 

“Maybe don’t trespass and steal, you-!”

“Roman.” The other giant cut him off, and oh god there were two giants. The second looked much less expressive than Roman, large glasses magnifying his cold gaze. 

Roman groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Ugh, humans…” 

Virgil glanced around him, taking in the huge ceiling over his head. He was in a giant dining room, sitting on a giant dining table, which was pretty much a nightmare in itself. He resisted the urge to draw further into himself. That would only make him easier to eat. 

There had to be a way to escape… 

A loud snap right next to him made him jump, and he turned to see Roman looking down at him with an irritated expression. “Hey, earth to human! Don’t you have any useful traits?” 

Virgil scowled at him, crossing his arms to hide their shaking. “Why would I tell you?” 

Roman huffed, offended, but the other giant was the one to respond. “Perhaps because it would help us decide whether or not to dispose of you. I assume you want to survive, seeing as humans are frequently more than willing to do terrible things for survival.”  

Virgil froze under his apathetic stare, mind racing. He had no doubt that these giants could kill him in any number of painful ways if he didn’t prove to be useful. He was willing to swallow his pride if it meant postponing his execution. 

“I… I can play the guitar.” He admitted. 

The unnamed giant’s eyes brightened slightly. “Ah, a human stringed instrument. That will work nicely.” 

Without another word, he seized Virgil in one hand, ignoring his panicked struggles and Roman’s exasperated sigh. He walked through the house at a speed that made Virgil feel as though he was on the brink of passing out again, grabbing a few glittering items with his free hand. The purpose of them became clear once he reached the living room, a cozy space with a roaring fire. 

Virgil wasn’t paying attention to the decor, though, not when the giant was setting a small, gilded birdcage on a shelf. He shook his head in protest, feeling his eyes grow hot with tears as he shoved his arms and legs out, trying and failing to keep the giant from maneuvering him through the open cage entrance. He was dropped onto the cold metal floor, and an ornate, angular harp was set down next to him. He rolled to his feet, watching numbly as the barred door snapped shut with a clang.

“I don’t even know how to play the harp.” He said, voice coming out small and hopeless. 

The giant turned away, mind already elsewhere. 

“You’ll learn.” 

[certifiedskywalker]

Walk in the Park - Bucky Barnes

In a desperate search for peace and release, you take a walk in the park. Only, what you find isn’t the type of relief you expected.

(This turned out waaaaaay longer than I thought it would! Enjoy! Feedback is always appreaciated!)

Initially, you went off to the park to hike in the hopes of clearing your mind. After stewing your bedroom for days, thoughts racing alongside doubts, you needed to break free of the cycle. A hike, you surmised, would suffice. That was how you found yourself wandering about a section of forest, lost and more on edge than you were before.

It was a new section of the park near your home, added as a memorial to those who had been lost after Thanos’ invasion. A statue of Iron Man sat in the center, surrounded by other stone monuments inscribed with the names of the rest of the victims. It was a bittersweet sight, driving you to hurry along on the path through a grove of trees. However, you spike of energy is soon lost. The path beneath your feet is covered with foliage and you find yourself walking along a crystal-blue lake.

“Great,” you sigh, letting out a heavy breath as you stared out across the lake. You rested your hands on your hips and kept yourself from crying. Focus trained on the shimmering waves of the water, you try to suppress the shaking of your shoulders. Finally, the stress had overwhelmed you to the point of tears.

You couldn’t pinpoint the exact cause: work, family, or simply life as a whole. Something had stolen you peace and calm state of mind. Now, you were just tired of it. There was no strength left in your bones or heart to wipe at the tears that flowed down your cheeks. Instead of moving, you stared into the depths of the lake, hoping for some savor to part the water.

“Hey, are you okay?” For a moment, you feared your wish had come to fruition. Yet the lake remained whole, despite the soothing voice that had reached out to you. You looked over to your right and saw the man who had been so concerned. He was tall, brown shoulder length hair and thick scruff that made him look like a New York hipster. If it weren’t for his kind blue eyes, you would have walked off.

“I mean,” you sniffled and began to wipe at your tears in slight embarrassment, “I’ve been better, I guess.” The man gave you a sympathetic half-smile before taking a step towards you. You peer wearily at his extended hand but find that, in his soft grasp, a little pack of tissues was offered out to you. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” he murmured as you plucked the pack from his hand. A moment of silence passes between the two of you and you feel as if you should thank him again. Never before had some stranger shown you such kindness. You can’t help but sneak a glance at him out of the corner of your eye, taking in the strong jaw and slightly furrowed brow. Whoever he was, he looked just as tired as you were; if not more so.

“I-I uh,” you swallowed, trying to steady your voice, “don’t normally just...cry anywhere.” You turn your head briefly, gauging the man’s reaction and expecting to see him smiling. He wasn’t smiling, at least not in a way that was condescending to you. The man was frowning, eyes still trained on the lake as if to give you some sort of privacy.

“You don’t have to explain,” he replied, “the lake has a way of washing any walls away. A lot of people come here and just….”

“Reflect?” You ask, finishing his trailing sentence. The man turns and nods at you, blue eyes piercing into your soul. You had to peel your eyes off of him, not wanting to scare him off.

“I’m Bucky, by the way,” the man, Bucky, said softly.

“I’m Y/N,” you greeted, looking back up at him. Bucky shot you a fleeting smile, one that you wished had stayed a little longer. “Thanks again, for the tissues.”

You handed back the small package back to Bucky but he held up his hand, pulling it from his jacket pocket. In the same moment he was about to refuse them, his phone chimed. He pulled his other hand from his pocket, a hand with metal fingers wrapped around his phone. Metal. Quickly, he answered the call, mouthing a sad ‘excuse me’ to you.

The call was swift for in a manner of seconds and a few mumbles of agreement, Bucky was by your side once more. His cheeks were slightly reddened, flushed from either the breeze that had stirred up the waves of the lake or something said in conversation. The glint in his eyes hinted to you that it was whoever was on the other end of the phone that sparked the blush. Part of you ached at that realization.

“You can keep that,” Bucky continued, as if the call never had occurred. “Maybe you can return the favor if I see you again.”

“Yeah, yes, of course,” you stammered, giving him a hopeful look. “You have to go?” Bucky nodded, blinking a few times as he looked at you.

“I do, but I’ll see you the next time you walk in the park?” As he asked, Bucky began to walk backwards, hands stuffed back in his jacket pockets.

“Yeah, you will,” you replied with the hints of a smile resting on your lips.

“Great,” Bucky gushed. He was turning on his heel when you spoke up again.

“Good luck saving the world again,” you shouted, low spirits forgotten the moment Bucky turned and gave you the brightest smile you had ever seen in your life. He held up his metal hand with his thumb up in symbolic thanks before darting off. You watched Bucky Barnes walk off and wondered how the media had gotten the story of the supposed ‘killer’ so wrong. A harsh wind blew, nearly knocking you off your feet. Instinctively, you grip tightened around the tissues Bucky had given you. Braving the newfound chill, you made your way home.

To better combat the growing cold, you tugged your coat close over your shoulders. You had began to regret sitting on the wooden bench beside the lake. The water had fallen victim to that winter freeze despite the lack of snowfall. Edges were the lake met the shore were crisp with fresh ice as the grey clouds blocked out the sun. Winter was on the cusp of unleashing its full potential on the East coast.

Before you could stand and walk along the lakeside to warm up, the crunching of dead grass under foot filled your ears. “Sorry for being late.”

“Hmm, cat burglar?” You teased as Bucky sat beside you. The wood of the bench creaked with his added weight but you were thankful for his presence. Bucky was so warm, especially as he let out a laugh at your question.

“No,” he beamed, sending you an amused look, “I was visiting someone.” He turned his attention to the lake noting, just as you had, the growing frost along the surface of the water. You raised your eyebrows at Bucky and bumped your shoulder against his. “What?”

“Well you can’t not tell me who!” You exclaimed, “if this someone is more important than being on time for our weekly walk-and-talks, I feel I should know about her.” Bucky’s blue eyes widened at your words and you felt that maybe, since the first time you had met the Winter Soldier, you had overstepped.

Ever since that first walk in the park, you made it your mission to see Bucky again to make up for the tissues. When you finally saw him again, at the same time on the same day as you first met, you gave him a whole box of tissues. The two of you had laughed and meeting at the lake had soon become a tradition in your budding friendship. You would be uncredible if you didn’t admit meeting him every week wasn’t out of some selfish intent.

Bucky had soon cemented his shoulder as your to cry on. Whenever life dragged you one way and him in the other, you would meet at the park. It was nice having someone to talk to and that’s all you thought it was. That was, until, you started to notice how handsome Bucky was and how your heart would drum in your chest whenever you saw him. Your heart was beating wildly as Bucky stared at you, unable to speak.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me,” you placated, hoping to diffuse the tension that had suddenly mounted between you. “I just, I was joking around. You don’t have to tell me, Bucky.”

“No, it’s not that,” Bucky murmured, the lightest of blushes had risen to his cheeks. “It just wasn’t a ‘her’ that I was visiting.” Oh, you thought, so he’s taken and really not interested in you. You bit back the stinging sensation in your chest and smiled at him.

“That’s nice. Is he-”

“My friend, Steve. He’s a bit older than me,” Bucky explained and you had to stifle your sigh of twisted contentment at the fact it was just a friend. “I was asking him for advice.”

“And not me? Ouch, Bucky, that hurts,” you jab, poking his cheek gently. He smiled at you tenderly, but you detected the serious undertone of his expression. “What did you need advice for?”

“Steve got married a while back,” Bucky began, “so I figured he could offer some solid relationship advice.” Bucky met your gaze and you nodded.

“That’s good logic, depending on the state of his marriage.”

“It was happy, I think, but she died of...she died.” You frowned and grabbed Bucky’s gloved hand and squeezed it comfortingly. “Anyway,” he continued, still holding your hand, “I needed to ask about how he knew he liked his wife in the first place. He told the whole story, even the part I knew already, in completion. That is why I was late.”

“He really loved her then,” you muse aloud and Bucky nods. He tears his eyes from yours and looks out to the lake solemnly. “So...how did he know?”

“He said that whenever he looked at her, it was like he could see all the colors a little bit brighter and the world a little bit nicer.” Bucky’s voice shook you to the core, despite his eyes never once leaving the lake. You felt his hand squeeze yours gently and you looked down at your intertwined fingers. It looked like a perfect match.

“Steve sounds like a smart guy,” you murmured and Bucky chuckled lightly.

“Don’t tell him that,” his blue eyes met your gaze once more, “it’ll go right to his head.” You smiled at him and then it was your turn to stare out in the lake. Eyes were not needed to know that Bucky was fixed on you. His gaze bored into your body and you felt that there was a thunder storm raging in your chest, rousing your heart into a mad frenzy.

“He’s right though,” you insisted, “it’s what it feels like.” Hesitantly, you turned your gaze to Bucky’s. Hawk-like eyes were still trained on you and you smiled when he nodded in agreement. Mouth parted, he licked his lips nervously and sat up a bit straighter against the back of the bench. A new tension, a better tension than before, was now nestled between you and Bucky. It was the tension you had been longing for.

“He is,” he agreed, “it happens whenever I see you. It’s like the first time, over and over again. But you’re smiling and happier.” You smile, not to make his point clear as it already was. A gloved hand slipped from yours and under your chin, holding your gaze on him in place.

“I’m smiling now because of you, you know,” you murmured. Bucky grinned before leaning in. At first, it was a soft brush of your lips and his; a teasing touch that ignited a new heat that conflicted with the winter around you both. Then, it was all that heat. You lips melded with his own and you felt whole. Bucky’s grip on your jaw tightened slightly as you hand trailed up his coat covered chest. Always so warm.

Soon enough, your fingers cupped Bucky’s neck and pressed him impossibly close. It was as if you had been nourished on his affection, then starved only have him returned to you now. You needed him in that sense; and you felt that he needed you in the same way. He was smiling into the kiss as you parted to catch your breath.

“I didn’t have to ask,” Bucky panted, pressing his forehead to yours, Your shared breaths mingled together between the little space between your bodies. “I knew.”

“Then you should have done that sooner,” you beamed, rubbing the frigid tip of your nose against his own.

“I guess we’ll just have to make up for lost time,” Bucky teased before he captured your lips in yet another searing kiss. You were both so enthralled with each other that you both failed to notice the snow fall. It was the perfect start to winter. The perfect start of a new chapter of your life, shared with Bucky Barnes.

[cheemerthelizard]

Crusader of Life (Kakyoin x Reader) Chapter 13

After the whole dream fiasco was sorted out, Joseph decided to take a day off from Stand attacks and let everyone relax a little bit before Egypt. Nothing could go wrong. At least, you hope so...

“So, what brings us here, Mr. Joestar?” Kakyoin asked.

“Well, for one, I need to tend to my chickens!” Avdol rushed away, and everyone followed after him, until they reached a small cottage in the middle of the island.

“Hello, everyone!” Avdol said cheerily, looking down at his chickens. “Did you miss me? Hello, Prince! Lionel! Micheal!”

You had never seen Avdol so happy, and his joy was certainly contagious, especially to you.

“That couldn’t be the only reason, right?” Polnareff asked. “Surely there’s more to this pit stop than just chickens.”

Joseph chucked a little bit. “You’re right,” he shrugged. “We have a little... special surprise for all of you. Plus, we’re about to be making our way to Egypt, our final destination. We thought it would be good to let you relieve some of your stress before we face off against Dio.”

“Really?” Your eyes widened with excitement. “You’re actually letting us take a day off?”

“I sure am,” Joseph laughed. “Now, get out of here, before I change my mind.”

“Yes, sir!” Kakyoin chimed. He grabbed your hand and started running.

“Wh-aah! Hey!” You could barely keep up, but you had to if you didn’t want to eat grass for breakfast. “Where are you taking me?”

“You’ll see,” Kakyoin answered, and gave you a little smile. Of course, that seemingly put you in a trance, and you ended up almost tripping.

“Woah! Slow down!” you laughed.

“But we’re here!” Kakyoin had stopped suddenly at a little patch of land with a big rock on it. “A good place to sit and talk.”

“You pulled me along so excitedly to sit at a rock?”

Kakyoin nodded, almost shamefully, and you responded with a laugh.

“I love it when you get so excited about small things like this.” This time, you took his hand and pulled him onto the rock with you. The two of you ended up talking for a long time, almost thirty minutes, about anything that came to mind. Stands, life back home, even just your interests. Times like this were always wonderful with him. Eventually, though, you couldn’t hold it in anymore, and you started to cry a little bit.

“Oh, was it something I said?” Kakyoin asked.

“No, no,” you reassured him. “Not at all. I’m just worried.”

“Worried? About what?”

The tears started to become more rapid with every word you said. “What if I die? What if someone else dies before I can save them? Kakyoin, what if... what if you die? I would never forgive myself if I can’t save you in time. I’m just so scared. All of you are so brave, and you always face danger with no hesitation. I wish I could be like that, but my Stand can’t fight. Ace can’t fight.”

“Oh, (Y/N),” Kakyoin pulled you closer. “Which one of us hasn’t been scared?”

“Jotaro,” you immediately replied. “And Joseph, and Avdol, and Polnareff, and... and you! You’ve never been scared.”

Kakyoin started laughing, as if he just couldn’t hold it in. “Me? Not scared of anything? Are you kidding? This whole time, I’ve been afraid. Afraid we might not make it in time before Holly dies. Afraid that one of my only friends will die in the battlefield. (Y/N), I’m afraid of losing you.”

You sniffled. “R-Really?”

Kakyoin nodded. “And everyone else has been afraid at least once, I’m sure. Both Polnareff and Avdol have been way too close to feeling the kiss of death, and Jotaro and Mr. Joestar are going on this trip specifically to save their family member. I’m sure they’re absolutely terrified they won’t make it in time.”

“I g-guess you’re right.” Your breathing was still very unsteady and sharp, but you had started to calm down.

“Oh, and one more thing.”

“Uh huh?”

“If I die, promise me you won’t blame yourself.”

You chuckled, while still trying to hold in your tears. “I promise, but only if you promise the same thing.”

Kakyoin nodded. “Well, I’m getting hungry. Maybe we should go back to get some food.”

“We definitely should,” you agreed. You shot up from your spot on the rock, and immediately felt a sharp pain ripping through the bottom of your left leg. “Ow!”

“What happened?” Kakyoin asked.

“I think a snake bit me,” you replied, making sure not to cry more than you already had. Eventually, Kakyoin spotted the snake, and started muttering something to himself.

“Red on black, friend of Jack. Red on yellow, kills a fellow. That was red on yellow!” he exclaimed. “We need to get back now!”

The two of you sprinted back from where you came, making sure not to run into anything on the way. You had made it about halfway whenever you toppled over.

“Kakyoin!” you cried. “I can’t feel my leg!”

Kakyoin stood there for a second, until picking you up and carrying you the rest of the way. Soon, the cottage was in eyesight, and you were met with two waving hands.

“Hello again, Kakyoin and (Y/N)!” Joseph said cheerily.

“Mr. Joestar...” Kakyoin was out of breath by the time you had gotten over there. “Snake bite... (Y/N)’s leg... red on yellow... leg is numb...”

“I was bitten by a venomous snake,” you finished his thoughts. “And I lost feeling in both of my legs now.”

“Uh oh,” Joseph’s tone immediately darkened. “That’s bad news.”

“I’m here,” Jotaro burst through the foliage, breathing heavily. “What’s going on?”

“I called him over with Hierophant,” Kakyoin explained. “I was going to call Polnareff, too, but I couldn’t find him.”

“Well, what are we going to do?” Avdol asked frantically. “This isn’t a Stand matter. Killing the snake that bit her won’t stop the venom from spreading.”

“The only way to stop it from infecting (Y/N) is to get it completely out of her body,” Jotaro muttered. Then he gasped. “I have an idea. (Y/N), are you still able to duplicate life?”

“Yes,” you answered weakly. Foam had started forming in your mouth.

“Good. I’ll need you to do that.” Jotaro summoned Star Platinum and had him press his lips to the bite. “Duplicate your blood. I’ll suck out any infected blood.”

“Okay.”

The feeling of blood being sucked from a wound was really weird. And from how forcefully Star Platinum was inhaling, you were sure all of your blood was being diverted straight to it. But you kept duplicating it, and so you never ran out. In fact, you started to feel better. You had almost regained feeling in your left leg, and everything else was feeling fine. Eventually, you had regained all senses, and shouted, “Now, Jotaro!”

Star Platinum wasted no time ridding himself of the infected blood, spewing it to the floor. Meanwhile, Jotaro was making a distorted face, like he had just eaten something he didn’t like. Guess venom blood wasn’t his favorite meal. You quickly wrapped your arms around him, almost crying.

“Thank you,” you were breathing heavily. “Thank you so much. So, so much.”

Jotaro seemed reluctant at first, but in the end, he decided, just this once, that you could hug him, which you were thankful for. How else would you show your appreciation for him saving your life?

“Alright, that’s enough,” Jotaro eventually said, shoving you off of him. “And you’re welcome.”

“Alright, I’ll bet you guys are hungry! How about we eat something?” Joseph suggested.

“That sounds nice,” you answered.

“I’m starved!” Kakyoin replied.

“I’ll go find Polnareff,” Avdol said, walking away.

“Will one of you go start the fire?” Joseph asked. “Jotaro! I’m sure Star Platinum can get it going really quick.”

“Sure.”

And soon enough, the whole team was sitting by the campfire, eating dinner. Apparently a Stand user had attacked Polnareff (again), and Avdol had gotten there just in time.

“And this time, I think I’ve truly learned my lesson,” Polnareff said. “I have to accept that my sister’s soul is now at peace.”

The six of you had been eating in silence for a little bit, until Polnareff spoke again. “Oh, and I heard that (Y/N) had a little encounter of her own.”

You nodded, and gulped down the bite you had taken. “I did.”

“A snake, huh? Must’ve been scary.”

“It kind of was,” you admitted. “I was terrified, actually.”

“We all were, I’m sure,” Kakyoin added. To your relief, the others nodded. Maybe what he said was right. Everyone gets scared from time to time.

Suddenly, interrupting your peaceful dinner, a loud splash came from the edge of the island.

“Ah, the surprise is here!” Joseph got up, and beckoned for everyone else to follow. When you had reached the shore, there was a giant submarine, waiting for you.

“Ta-da!” Joseph exclaimed. “I got it from the Speedwagon Foundation!”

“I don’t know about this,” you muttered. Unfortunately, Joseph overheard you.

“What do you mean by that?”

“I mean, the boat we had before was fine, and there was a lot more of a chance that we would survive if a Stand user attacked us. I’ve just got a feeling in my gut.”

“Well, the Speedwagon guys have already taken our boat back to the shore on the other side, so unless you want to swim to Egypt, I guess you’re out of luck.”

You sighed, and reluctantly boarded the sub. “I’ve got a really bad feeling about this.”

[cheemers-writing-archive]

Crusader of Life: Chapter 13

“So, what brings us here, Mr. Joestar?” Kakyoin asked.

“Well, for one, I need to tend to my chickens!” Avdol rushed away, and everyone followed after him, until they reached a small cottage in the middle of the island.

“Hello, everyone!” Avdol said cheerily, looking down at his chickens. “Did you miss me? Hello, Prince! Lionel! Micheal!”

You had never seen Avdol so happy, and his joy was certainly contagious, especially to you.

“That couldn’t be the only reason, right?” Polnareff asked. “Surely there’s more to this pit stop than just chickens.”

Joseph chucked a little bit. “You’re right,” he shrugged. “We have a little… special surprise for all of you. Plus, we’re about to be making our way to Egypt, our final destination. We thought it would be good to let you relieve some of your stress before we face off against Dio.”

“Really?” Your eyes widened with excitement. “You’re actually letting us take a day off?”

“I sure am,” Joseph laughed. “Now, get out of here, before I change my mind.”

“Yes, sir!” Kakyoin chimed. He grabbed your hand and started running.

“Wh-aah! Hey!” You could barely keep up, but you had to if you didn’t want to eat grass for breakfast. “Where are you taking me?”

“You’ll see,” Kakyoin answered, and gave you a little smile. Of course, that seemingly put you in a trance, and you ended up almost tripping.

“Woah! Slow down!” you laughed.

“But we’re here!” Kakyoin had stopped suddenly at a little patch of land with a big rock on it. “A good place to sit and talk.”

“You pulled me along so excitedly to sit at a rock?”

Kakyoin nodded, almost shamefully, and you responded with a laugh.

“I love it when you get so excited about small things like this.” This time, you took his hand and pulled him onto the rock with you. The two of you ended up talking for a long time, almost thirty minutes, about anything that came to mind. Stands, life back home, even just your interests. Times like this were always wonderful with him. Eventually, though, you couldn’t hold it in anymore, and you started to cry a little bit.

“Oh, was it something I said?” Kakyoin asked.

“No, no,” you reassured him. “Not at all. I’m just worried.”

“Worried? About what?”

The tears started to become more rapid with every word you said. “What if I die? What if someone else dies before I can save them? Kakyoin, what if… what if you die? I would never forgive myself if I can’t save you in time. I’m just so scared. All of you are so brave, and you always face danger with no hesitation. I wish I could be like that, but my Stand can’t fight. Ace can’t fight.”

“Oh, (Y/N),” Kakyoin pulled you closer. “Which one of us hasn’t been scared?”

“Jotaro,” you immediately replied. “And Joseph, and Avdol, and Polnareff, and… and you! You’ve never been scared.”

Kakyoin started laughing, as if he just couldn’t hold it in. “Me? Not scared of anything? Are you kidding? This whole time, I’ve been afraid. Afraid we might not make it in time before Holly dies. Afraid that one of my only friends will die in the battlefield. (Y/N), I’m afraid of losing you.”

You sniffled. “R-Really?”

Kakyoin nodded. “And everyone else has been afraid at least once, I’m sure. Both Polnareff and Avdol have been way too close to feeling the kiss of death, and Jotaro and Mr. Joestar are going on this trip specifically to save their family member. I’m sure they’re absolutely terrified they won’t make it in time.”

“I g-guess you’re right.” Your breathing was still very unsteady and sharp, but you had started to calm down.

“Oh, and one more thing.”

“Uh huh?”

“If I die, promise me you won’t blame yourself.”

You chuckled, while still trying to hold in your tears. “I promise, but only if you promise the same thing.”

Kakyoin nodded. “Well, I’m getting hungry. Maybe we should go back to get some food.”

“We definitely should,” you agreed. You shot up from your spot on the rock, and immediately felt a sharp pain ripping through the bottom of your left leg. “Ow!”

“What happened?” Kakyoin asked.

“I think a snake bit me,” you replied, making sure not to cry more than you already had. Eventually, Kakyoin spotted the snake, and started muttering something to himself.

“Red on black, friend of Jack. Red on yellow, kills a fellow. That was red on yellow!” he exclaimed. “We need to get back now!”

The two of you sprinted back from where you came, making sure not to run into anything on the way. You had made it about halfway whenever you toppled over.

“Kakyoin!” you cried. “I can’t feel my leg!”

Kakyoin stood there for a second, until picking you up and carrying you the rest of the way. Soon, the cottage was in eyesight, and you were met with two waving hands.

“Hello again, Kakyoin and (Y/N)!” Joseph said cheerily.

“Mr. Joestar…” Kakyoin was out of breath by the time you had gotten over there. “Snake bite… (Y/N)’s leg… red on yellow… leg is numb…”

“I was bitten by a venomous snake,” you finished his thoughts. “And I lost feeling in both of my legs now.”

“Uh oh,” Joseph’s tone immediately darkened. “That’s bad news.”

“I’m here,” Jotaro burst through the foliage, breathing heavily. “What’s going on?”

“I called him over with Hierophant,” Kakyoin explained. “I was going to call Polnareff, too, but I couldn’t find him.”

“Well, what are we going to do?” Avdol asked frantically. “This isn’t a Stand matter. Killing the snake that bit her won’t stop the venom from spreading.”

“The only way to stop it from infecting (Y/N) is to get it completely out of her body,” Jotaro muttered. Then he gasped. “I have an idea. (Y/N), are you still able to duplicate life?”

“Yes,” you answered weakly. Foam had started forming in your mouth.

“Good. I’ll need you to do that.” Jotaro summoned Star Platinum and had him press his lips to the bite. “Duplicate your blood. I’ll suck out any infected blood.”

“Okay.”

The feeling of blood being sucked from a wound was really weird. And from how forcefully Star Platinum was inhaling, you were sure all of your blood was being diverted straight to it. But you kept duplicating it, and so you never ran out. In fact, you started to feel better. You had almost regained feeling in your left leg, and everything else was feeling fine. Eventually, you had regained all senses, and shouted, “Now, Jotaro!”

Star Platinum wasted no time ridding himself of the infected blood, spewing it to the floor. Meanwhile, Jotaro was making a distorted face, like he had just eaten something he didn’t like. Guess venom blood wasn’t his favorite meal. You quickly wrapped your arms around him, almost crying.

“Thank you,��� you were breathing heavily. “Thank you so much. So, so much.”

Jotaro seemed reluctant at first, but in the end, he decided, just this once, that you could hug him, which you were thankful for. How else would you show your appreciation for him saving your life?

“Alright, that’s enough,” Jotaro eventually said, shoving you off of him. “And you’re welcome.”

“Alright, I’ll bet you guys are hungry! How about we eat something?” Joseph suggested.

“That sounds nice,” you answered.

“I’m starved!” Kakyoin replied.

“I’ll go find Polnareff,” Avdol said, walking away.

“Will one of you go start the fire?” Joseph asked. “Jotaro! I’m sure Star Platinum can get it going really quick.”

“Sure.”

And soon enough, the whole team was sitting by the campfire, eating dinner. Apparently a Stand user had attacked Polnareff (again), and Avdol had gotten there just in time.

“And this time, I think I’ve truly learned my lesson,” Polnareff said. “I have to accept that my sister’s soul is now at peace.”

The six of you had been eating in silence for a little bit, until Polnareff spoke again. “Oh, and I heard that (Y/N) had a little encounter of her own.”

You nodded, and gulped down the bite you had taken. “I did.”

“A snake, huh? Must’ve been scary.”

“It kind of was,” you admitted. “I was terrified, actually.”

“We all were, I’m sure,” Kakyoin added. To your relief, the others nodded. Maybe what he said was right. Everyone gets scared from time to time.

Suddenly, interrupting your peaceful dinner, a loud splash came from the edge of the island.

“Ah, the surprise is here!” Joseph got up, and beckoned for everyone else to follow. When you had reached the shore, there was a giant submarine, waiting for you.

“Ta-da!” Joseph exclaimed. “I got it from the Speedwagon Foundation!”

“I don’t know about this,” you muttered. Unfortunately, Joseph overheard you.

“What do you mean by that?”

“I mean, the boat we had before was fine, and there was a lot more of a chance that we would survive if a Stand user attacked us. I’ve just got a feeling in my gut.”

“Well, the Speedwagon guys have already taken our boat back to the shore on the other side, so unless you want to swim to Egypt, I guess you’re out of luck.”

You sighed, and reluctantly boarded the sub. “I’ve got a really bad feeling about this.”

[vateacancameos]

Chapters: 1/1 Words: 1393 Fandom: D.E.B.S. (2004) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Amy Bradshaw/Lucy Diamond Characters: Lucy Diamond, Amy Bradshaw Additional Tags: Autumn, Established Relationship, Post-Canon, Pictures, Belgium (Country), Foliage, Marriage Proposal, except not really, Well maybe a little, Lucy spoils Amy, One Shot Series: Part 1 of snapshots of autumn Summary:

Part of the snapshots of autumn series, which tells stories of ladies in love during autumn, this story can be read independently.

Lucy and Amy get away from sunny Barcelona during the fall, spending some time in the Belgium countryside so Amy can take pictures for her end-of-term project. This is a little one-shot of them being adorable while Lucy spoils Amy.

Story:

The click of the camera pulled Lucy’s gaze away from the mirror smooth lake, and as beautiful as that view was, it was the new view that made her grin like a fool. Amy’s camera dropped away from her face so she could return the smile.

“Gorgeous,” she said, her gaze fond.

Lucy shrugged. “I promised my girl the best autumnal landscapes on the continent. Glad I could deliver.”

Amy let the camera hang loose on the strap around her neck so she could bring her hands up to cup Lucy’s face. “Not what I meant, but those views are beautiful too.”

Read the rest under the cut.

Even after a year and a half, Lucy still got that warm feeling when Amy complimented her. She would never have believed two years ago that she’d be happily in love now. She’d given up on it, only for it to fall in her lap—or more accurately, her soup. And even after she and Amy had found each other, as amazing as it was, she’d not let herself believe it would last, even as she was fighting tooth and nail to win Amy’s affections. But here they were, Belgium in the fall, Amy looking positively adorable in a teal toque and matching fingerless gloves, smile wide as she took in the brightly clothed trees around them.

Lucy couldn’t have made it more perfect if she tried—the scent of bonfires in the air, a light fog cloaking them as they stood at the edge of a lake—and she silently thanked Scud’s random knowledge of secret but photographic European locales.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself, but this is only the beginning, babe,” Lucy said. She kissed her girlfriend before turning her so Amy could look out on the lake again, Lucy holding her from behind.

“Lucy! This is already the best vacation ever. You don’t have to take me anywhere else.” Amy’s protest was half-hearted. She knew Lucy loved spoiling her, but Lucy knew she still felt the need to make at least a token protest.

“You can’t take pictures of just a single place. That would make for the most boring end-of-term project ever. Next up is Versailles, then of course we have to visit a few German castles.”

“How long is this trip supposed to be? I do have classes, you know.”

Lucy hugged Amy a bit tighter. “We’ll be back in Barcelona next week, promise. But we have to take advantage of the fall colors while they last, they’re only around for a short period after all. And you’ve been so busy with school and me getting my business off the ground, we both needed the break.”

“Mmm,” Amy hummed. “I still don’t know how you found out that fall is my favorite season.”

“Scud, of course. Well, Janet, really, who told Scud, who told me.”

Amy laughed. “Of course.” She slipped out of Lucy’s arms, straightening her down vest and rubbing her arms. “Well, I don’t know about you, but I could use a hot drink and a fire. I’ve gotten too used to the warm beach climates.”

“You love it here,” Lucy teased, but went to grab their bags so they could head back to the chateau she’d rented for the weekend (just because she’d gone legit didn’t mean she hadn’t kept enough dough in the bank to keep them living comfortably; her girl deserved the best).

“Oh! We need a picture of the two of us.”

Amy latched on to Lucy’s hand with her own, pulling them close. Lucy went willingly but pretended to put up a fight. “Ugh, why?”

“Because we are an adorable couple, the landscape is gorgeous, and I want to remember this fantastic trip.” Amy’s grin turned into a pleading pout. “Please?”

Lucy sighed dramatically, and let her face be smooshed next to Amy’s for a self-portrait. She scowled as fiercely as she could to make Amy laugh later when she looked at the pictures, but switched to a grin when Amy put her arm around her waist for the second picture. For the final picture, she turned to plant a kiss on her girlfriend’s cheek, and was thwarted when Amy did the same, and they locked lips. Which turned their picture-taking session into a make-out session, Lucy barely managing to remember to slide Amy’s camera softly to the ground before it could fall.

She’d have to thank Scud for the vacation idea. Later.

🍁🍂🍁

They were sitting in front of the outdoor firepit by early evening, hot drinks in hand and a shared blanket over their laps. Lucy put her arm around Amy so she could lean in to see the pictures on the tiny camera screen that Amy was scrolling through. She didn’t know much about art—except knowing which pieces were worth stealing, which she didn’t do anymore anyway—but the pictures were gorgeous. They managed to capture the atmosphere perfectly—the mist ghostly, the leaves brilliant, the air crisp.

“You’ve got an amazing eye, babe,” she told Amy, snuggling closer. “Pretty soon, you’ll be selling your art for millions, and I can quit my job to become a trophy wife, lazing around the cabana all day.”

Amy chuckled. “I’m still in school, and I’m not even the best in my cl- oh my God, did you just propose?” Her eyes wide, mouth open with shock, Amy turned to face Lucy.

“Oh, shit,” Lucy said. She’d been thinking about it more lately, but she hadn’t talked about it with Amy at all. “I- I mean, no? Yes? Maybe?” She bit her lip as she looked Amy in the eye. Had she just ruined everything? She knew Amy loved her, but did she love love her?

“No, yes, maybe? Well which is it?” Amy was very still, her face still a mask of surprise.

Lucy grimaced. “Ummm, whichever you want it to be?”

Amy gave her that stern, squinted-eye scowl she’d perfected with the D.E.B.S. that Lucy had always found just a little bit sexy. “Which do you mean it to be?”

With a sigh, Lucy slumped back on the bench, looking at the flannel blanket in their lap. “Well, I guess I’ve thought about it. Vaguely …?”

“Vaguely.”

“Well, yeah. You know. Like, I’d like to, at some point, when we’re both ready. No rush!” She chanced a glance up at Amy, who was biting her lip like she did when she was happy or worried or wanted to fool around. It was always adorable, and it gave Lucy hope.

Amy’s eyes were wishful surprise. “Really?”

Lucy cupped her cheeks in her hands, giving her a quick kiss before pulling back to look her in the eyes. “I love you, Amy Bradshaw. There’s no one else for me.”

“So … you’re proposing?”

“No!” Amy’s face fell, and Lucy hurried to reassure her. “I want to propose for real, with a ring, a candle-lit dinner, string quartet, all that romantic stuff.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Amy whispered. “I don’t need that. I just need you.”

“But I want to. You deserve the best.”

“You need to stop spoiling me!”

“Never.” Lucy turned away so she could snuggle back in at Amy’s side. She sipped her hot cider and smiled. Amy wanted to marry her, Lucy Diamond, former supervillain, current boat captain. She was the happiest woman alive.

They sat in silence for a time, the only noise the snap of the logs on the fire and the occasional evening bird call.

“You know …” Amy eventually said, low in Lucy’s ear. “If you wanted the perfect moment to propose, it would’ve been here, today.” She motioned to the bright red, gold, and orange trees around them, the fire in front of them, the chateau next to them.

Lucy playfully dug her fingers into Amy’s side. “You’re terrible, you know that? Why do I want to marry you, again?”

“Because I’m adorable, and you love me.” She shot Lucy her most innocent smile.

Giving up teasing completely, Lucy smiled at her girlfriend. “Very true. I do love you. So much.”

Amy smiled fondly in return, leaning in to peck her on the lips. “I love you too, Lucy Diamond.”

Maybe that day would’ve been the perfect time to propose, with the gorgeous views and the intimate setting, but Lucy was content to wait. Any time was perfect, when she was with Amy.

[psychosistr]

The Third Caballero- Chapter 6

Summary: A desperate duck makes his daring escape from a vicious pirate crew, but soon finds himself with nowhere to go. Perhaps the strange screaming/singing red bird will have an idea?

Notes: Brief rewind to see how the duck Panchito and José met in the mansion found his way there.

-First Chapter-

<-Previous Chapter Next Chapter->

A small row boat rapidly paddled its way towards the beaches just outside of Heroica Veracruz, Mexico. Hot on its trail was a much larger ship, an angry looking crew of various birds and dogs yelling obscenities at the lone boat in Spanish.

As the row boat finally reached the sand, its only occupant, a duck dressed in only a dirty old sweater, stumbled out onto the soft ground and took off running. “¡Nunca voy a volver!” The duck yelled in a strong voice. “You hear me?! Nunca! NEVER!!”

The other ship docked close to the beach and several of its occupants clambered down into the shallows to chase after the fleeing duck. They followed him further inland, even as he ran from the beach and across the open plains where the sand slowly gave way to grassy ground. Some of them even pulled out their guns and began firing at him.

“Waaah!” The duck gave a startled cry as he tried to dodge the bullets while staying far enough ahead of his attackers. “Think, man, think!” He muttered to himself while running, keeping his eyes on the horizon for any signs that he was getting closer to a city. “Aha! Perfect!” He grinned when he spotted a river leading away from the beach and towards some denser foliage the further inland it went.

Changing his path, he ran towards the river and ducked under a grouping of trees with low-hanging branches. For good measure, he made sure to grab on to a more flexible branch along the way, hold onto it for a second, and let go just right so that it would smack into the faces of his closest pursuers when they started catching up to him.

“OOOOWW!” One wolf dressed in a navy blue and dark green captain’s uniform with a black hat got hit in the snout and howled as he was thrown back alongside a hen and a male blue jay. He growled and got to his feet, looking like he was ready to run on all fours to catch up if he needed to. “¡Ese pato es carne muerta! FIND HIM!!”

After the hen and the blue jay got to their feet, they answered in unison. “¡Sí, capitán!”

They resumed their chase with the rest of their crew, looking through the dense trees and bushes for any signs of the missing duck. They searched every tree, every patch of undergrowth, and every twisting bend along the river. Still, even with such a large group, they did not spot a single white feather amongst the browns and greens of the landscape.

After a few minutes of searching, a whistle caught their attention. “Over here, tono sordos piratas!!” They all turned to see the duck they were chasing standing on a tree branch by the river.

The wolf growled angrily and drew the sword from the scabbard on his belt. “You DARE insult the star of the seas?!!!” He pointed his sword at the duck dramatically. “¡Destruyelo!”

There was a resounding shout of affirmation from the crew as they all charged at the duck at once. Unfortunately, their over-eagerness ended up being their downfall.

Literally.

When they were only a few feet from the tree, the duck smirked and watched as they all fell into a tiger-pit-trap concealed by a layer of leaves and vines. It wasn’t very deep, but it was deep enough that it would take several minutes for all of them to get out.

“¡Adiós y buen viaje, capitán!” The duck gave a two finger salute to the captain before grabbing a vine and swinging away to another tree, laughing as he heard the angered wolf howl in rage at his retreating figure.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The duck continued running along the riverside until he found a small cottage a few miles away in the middle of nowhere. A quick glance around told him that no one was there. Noticing some laundry hanging on the drying lines outside, he hesitated for a moment before taking a jacket and a hat off of the clothesline.

“This’ll make it harder for them to spot me in town.” He reasoned while pulling a few gold coins from the sleeve of his sweater and leaving them on the cottage’s doorstep by way of apology.

Now that he had a half-way decent disguise and enough room to breathe, he continued at a slightly more relaxed pace. Eventually, he finally found his way to some roads and followed those instead, hoping they would lead him towards a town or that he could at least hitch a ride.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Unfortunately for him, hours went by with no cars in sight and storm clouds began to form overhead. At the first drop of rain hitting his bill, the duck glanced around and spotted the only thing he could take cover beneath- a highway overpass.

Moving quickly but still getting a little wet from the budding downpour, the duck sighed heavily and sat down on the hard concrete behind one of the pillars.

“Well,” He began while bringing his knees close to his chest. “This is some mess you’ve gotten yourself into..” He reached under the neckline of his sweater and pulled out a golden necklace with a gold and purple pendant on the end. Turning the pendant over so he could see the back, he read the inscription out loud to himself. “Fortune favors the brave. See you in Duckburg.” He turned it back over and looked at the purple glass with a frown. “Seriously, that’s all you give me to go on? No name, no instructions, no phone number- just ‘See you in Duckburg’?” He leaned his head back against the pillar with a groan. “How am I even supposed to GET to Duckburg? That’s all the way in America! Maybe I should have tried harder to start a mutiny and steal the ship…” He closed his eyes for a moment, feeling tired and strained from both his daring escape and his confusion regarding his future. “Hey..” He said with a sigh. “If anyone out there’s listening..can you give me a sign? What am I supposed to do here? Where can I go? How..How can I get to Duckburg…?” His voice cracked slightly on the last question, emotions welling up in his chest that felt so painful he nearly sobbed. After a minute, when nothing happened, he opened his eyes with a deep frown. “Yeah…that’s what I thought would happen…”

“AAAAH!” Then, to his startled surprise, something red and fluffy peered out at him from behind the pillar in front of him. It looked like some sort of short red bird in a white long-sleeved shirt with a blue stripe across the bottom and across each sleeve. For a moment after its first jarring scream, it just stared at him quietly with a weird smile on its yellow beak, before disappearing behind the pillar.

“What the-?” He began to ask when the bird suddenly walked out from behind the pillar he was leaning against. His head whipped around and he stared at the strange bird with wide eyes. “How did you-?!”

The bird didn’t give him an answer, instead it started to sing a strange song that had a lot of “ari” “ya” “pa” and “cuan” sounds to it while walking vertically up the pillar. It disappeared from his sight for a moment before reappearing on the next note of its song behind his shoulder. He turned his head to look at it, but it ducked down then reappeared behind his opposite shoulder, repeating the process a few times before he vanished from sight completely but his song was still very clearly heard around the duck.

Then, he felt and saw something rustling under his closed jacket and opened it to see the bird leap out while holding his unclasped necklace in its hands. “Wha-?! Hey! Give that back!”

He tried to snatch the necklace back from the bird, but it was fast for its size and scurried away by running backwards while still facing him. The duck shot to his feet and chased after the bird, trying to take back his necklace but the odd bird just kept singing and disappearing or shuffling away only to appear a few feet further head.

He followed the bird out into the rain during the chase, ignoring the way his clothes got soaked in a desperate attempt to reclaim what was his. At one point, though, he slipped on the wet pavement of the road and, when he scrambled to get up thinking the bird would get away, he was surprised to see it waiting for him while it sang.

“Huh?” He blinked, confused by the weird bird’s actions. When he started going after the bird again, it ran just like it had before. But, to test the theory forming in his mind, he stopped and was surprised to see that the bird stopped too. When he tried to turn around and go in the opposite direction, the bird suddenly appeared in front of him and screamed until, startled, he turned back around to see it standing in the same spot from before “Are you..trying to take me somewhere..?”

The bird stopped singing for a moment and smiled at him, tapping a finger to its beak with a nod of its head before scurrying up to him and holding out the hand with the necklace in it. It said some high-speed gibberish that the duck couldn’t really understand after he took back his necklace and secured it around his neck once more.

“Huh?” He tilted his head in confusion. “Sorry, I don’t-” The bird jumped up and grabbed him by the hand, tugging him along down the road. The bird was shorter than him, meaning he ended up slouching a bit to keep up with its pace, and it was surprisingly strong, so he wasn’t able to get away. “Oh, great.” He muttered. “A crazy little bird wants me to follow it..” Then, he blinked in surprise as a thought occurred to him. “Ohhh..” At an insistent tug on his hand followed by a barrage of chatter, he finally relented and allowed the little bird to pull him along. ���Okay, okay- I can take a hint. Just wish they could’ve given me a more subtle sign…” He muttered the last part under his breath as he followed the odd little bird’s lead.

He didn’t know where he was going, but, he figured, it was better than sitting under an overpass doing nothing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The red bird eventually led the duck to an old mansion along the coast. It was a more than a little gaudy thanks to the large dollar sign on the front and it looked like it had been abandoned for years judging by the state of disarray both the building and the grounds were in.

“What a dump..” The duck said while looking through the bars of the gate surrounding the property. “Hey, why did you bring me he..re..?” His questions trailed off when he turned his head to look down at the red bird, but, to his surprise, it was nowhere to be seen. “Aaaaand he’s gone. Great..”

The duck pushed open the gate and headed for the front door. “Might as well get out of the rain.” Being under the cover provided by the front entrance helped him feel a bit better, but, as he looked at the door, he started to feel a sense of familiarity.

“Huh..weird..have I been here before..?” He reached for the door knob, but hesitated and drew his hand back briefly. “There’s no way it’s unlocked.” He hesitated for a moment more, glancing around to make sure no one else was there, then slowly reached for the door knob and turned it. To his surprise, it opened with ease. “Wow..guess they don’t care about looters..”

He walked in and took a look around the interior of the mansion- it was dusty, but not unbearably so. “Hello?” He called while looking around. “Anyone here?” The only noise he heard in response was the continued rain fall from outside, so he closed the door behind himself and walked further in.

As he took his time exploring the mansion, he came across several different pictures hanging on the walls. He saw several ducks and even a few geese in the images and he assumed they were related. The more images he saw, the more that sense of familiarity and nostalgia he experienced at the door grew.

“Why does this place feel so..familiar..?” He asked himself with a troubled frown when he stopped at an end table in the hall covered in old knick-knacks. He picked up an old, dusty teddy bear that looked like something a child had forgotten behind one of the picture frames and looked it over in his hand. The longer he gazed at it, the more images began to flash through his mind.

“Smiling bears..” He sang softly under his breath, an image of a friendly grizzly bear with a smiling face flashing through his mind. “Golden wings..” Next he saw a golden headband with wings on the side of it, sitting on the head of someone whose face he couldn’t remember. “Things I almost remember. And a song someone sings..” He could hear a tune in his head as he sang, so familiar but he could never remember the words. “Once upon a December…”

He set the bear down and closed his eyes. He walked through the mansion like that, his body guiding him as a warm feeling welled up within his chest. A soft blue glow surrounded him and, with his eyes closed, his mind conjured up moving silhouettes of people in various colors. Before long, it was like he was at a party, surrounded by these unseen, faceless people who all felt so familiar to him. Some of the silhouettes’ shapes matched the images he’d seen- a red duck figure with a hat, a green one with combed-back hair that somehow felt pretentious even without a face, a pink female duck with a bow on her head- and he felt comforted by their presence.

Then, his mind conjured up two silhouettes of red and green, one on either side of him, which wrapped their arms around him tenderly. “Someone holds me safe and warm.” The green one moved in front of him with a spin and energy exploded outwards from its hands, lighting up the darkness with stars across the ceiling. “Comets race through a stellar storm.” Within the stars, he saw copies of the red and green ones that were currently holding him fighting alongside a blue figure against something large and monstrous. “Heroes fighting valiantly, within my memory.”

The figures in the stars fought and clashed with the frightening monster, a rainbow of colors erupting from them as they faced off with it. The battle grew further and further from his vision, as if it was leaving his mind and the duck held his head in his hands as if he were in pain- desperately trying to bring the images back as both the ones above and the ones around him flickered in and out of focus.

“Far away, long ago…Glowing dim as an ember,” The silhouettes began to fade and tears leaked out of the corners of his eyes. “Things my heart used to know, things it yearns to remember!”

The red and green figures solidified again and grabbed his hands to pull them away from his face, looking so kind and caring as they gazed at him even without visible faces. They pulled him into their arms, the warmth and comfort helping him focus again.

“Someone holds me safe and warm. Comets race through a stellar storm.” He relaxed and tilted his head up to where the stars were flickering in and out of focus above him, the battling silhouettes barely visible in the distance. “Heroes fighting valiantly, within my memory.”

He “looked” back out at the many silhouettes scattered throughout the area around him. They parted for him, forming a path down a hallway that the red and green silhouettes still holding onto him led him down by the hands. He willingly followed them, feeling as if he’d walked this very path several times before.

“Far away, long ago…Glowing dim as an ember,” He saw more colors and silhouettes- a tall golden woman, three smaller ones in purple, orange, and yellow- the closer he got to his destination. “Things my heart used to know, things it yearns to remember!”

They stopped at a door that the duck opened himself, feeling the knob in his hand enough to know it was real. As he walked in with the red and green figures still holding onto his arms, he saw a small group of different silhouettes waiting for him inside:

One was a golden duck with a top hat, standing on the left side of something across the room in front of him. Another was a light blue duck with bobbed hair, standing on the right side of that same something across the room. And, on the floor between the two, were three tiny silhouettes in red, blue, and green.

He made his way towards the group, the pair that led him inside slowly letting go of him. “And a song,” First the red one released him, pressing its head against his as if giving him a kiss before vanishing. “Someone sings,” Next the green one let go, taking his hand and giving it a kiss before vanishing as well. “Once upon a December…” He walked to where the other figures were waiting for him, feeling as if they were smiling at him and the tenderness and love he felt from them made tears fall from his closed eyes again.

He opened his eyes at last, the remaining silhouettes vanishing as he did so.

When he looked up, he realized he was in a bedroom now. He was standing next to a dresser adorned with miniature diecast boat figurines and, in front of him, between where the two figures were standing, was a large framed portrait.

In the picture, he saw an older male duck wearing a top hat and dressed in a red coat. On the other side was a much younger female duck wearing a brown jacket and a light blue scarf. And, in the center between them, was a male duck that looked to be about the same age as the female duck, dressed in a blue sailor suit.

“Who..is that..?” He mumbled to himself while walking closer to it. “Looks..familiar..” Unfortunately, he wasn’t paying attention to where he was walking and inadvertently stepped on a small ship that had gotten knocked off of the dresser at some point. “Waaaah!” He let out a startled noise as he tripped, knocking over the dresser and causing a loud crash to ring out through the room. “Uh oh..” He quickly got up and tried to move the dresser back into place, but accidentally set it down on his foot. “Yeowch!” He jumped backwards on one foot, his hands reaching down to hold the injured one as he jumped around. This led to him slipping on the spot of water that had formed due to his wet clothes when he fell earlier and now caused him to fall backwards, knocking him into the painting and sending it off-kilter. “Oh no!” He scrambled to catch it, barely keeping it from hitting the floor, but, when he tried to turn and stick it back on the wall, he accidentally knocked a vase off of a nearby end table by the bed. “Oh, come on!” He complained after he got the painting hung up.

Deciding it would be best for him (and the furniture) to clear the floor of any further tripping hazards, he knelt down and began picking up the boat figurines and other knick-knacks that fell off of the dresser when he knocked it over earlier.

While he was busy working on collecting the small objects, the door was suddenly kicked open behind him.

“No se mueva! Don’t move!” An unfamiliar voice called out to him and he froze in fear.

Oh no! They’d found him! They’d found him and they were here to drag him back or kill him or-!

“Turn around.” A different voice said.

His pulse was hammering loudly in his veins as he did what was asked of him. Stiffly, he turned around and raised his hands to show he was unarmed but kept his eyes closed, too nervous to see what fate awaited him. He was shaking, he knew he was, but he couldn’t help it-!

“Abre tus ojos.” The first voice he’d heard said. “Come on, look at us.”

“……” Swallowing down his nerves, the duck cautiously did as he was told and opened his eyes just a sliver. The first thing he saw, however, was a gun pointed directly at him and he panicked. “!!” He tried to take a step away so he could run, but his foot landed on one of the boat figurines still on the floor (the original one that tripped him the first time, he’d realize later), and he slipped. His back and head hit the wall behind him and he felt his hat slip over his face, the impact leaving his ears ringing.

Distantly, he could hear the other people talking, but he couldn’t understand a word they were saying. In a daze, he managed to get to his feet, rubbing at the sore spot on his head.

When he opened his eyes again, he saw the two people he’d heard earlier staring at him. One of them, the one with the gun, was a rooster dressed in an odd furry hat. The other was a green parrot in a more casual outfit and wielding…an umbrella? Okay, that was a bit odd.

What was even weirder was that they were staring at him as if they’d seen a ghost. He raised an eyebrow at the weird looks they were giving him, and was about to ask why they were staring, when the rooster suddenly shouted in excitement and ran over to him.

“Donald!” The rooster yelled with tears glistening in his eyes. “¡Mi amigo!” He wrapped the duck in his arms and held him tight, making the mallard’s heart skip and his face flush under his feathers. “AAAAAAH!” He let go just enough to look down into the shorter bird’s eyes and started speaking so fast that the duck could hardly keep up with him. “Where have you been?! We’ve been looking everywhere for you! We got Xandra and the girls to help, and your uncle sent submarines, and me and Zé traveled all over and-!”

More than a little confused by that point, the duck frowned and asked the first question he could think of. “Who’s Donald?” The rooster went silent and, as he looked between his face and the parrot’s, the confused and concerned duck felt like he’d just witnessed their hearts shattering to pieces before his eyes.

He didn’t know why, but the sadness in those eyes pulled on his heartstrings so hard that it hurt.

<-Previous Chapter Next Chapter->

End Notes: I swear, I won’t do parodies of ALL the songs in Anastasia, it just felt appropriate to do one or two since the Legend of the Caballeros show was an occasional musical, too x3

Translation Notes:

“¡Nunca voy a volver!” - "I will never come back!"

¡Ese pato es carne muerta! - That duck is dead meat!

“¡Sí, capitán!” - "Yes captain!"

“Over here, tono sordos piratas!!” - “Over here, tone deaf pirates !!

“¡Destruyelo!” - “Destroy him!”

“¡Adiós y buen viaje, capitán!” - "Goodbye and good riddance, captain!" (this one was a bit of a joke, as buen viaje can translate to either “good trip” like what you’d wish someone when they go sailing, or to “good riddance”)

(Everything else at the end was already translated in the previous chapter)

[mac-writes-fanfiction]

The Interruption

An update for Slow Burn!

Taglist: @heyyitsangie

Chapter: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

The House of Wind had become somewhat of a project for Elain since she had been training for longer hours. Still dressed in her training leathers with well-worn tunic pulled over it, she held a potted moonflower lovingly held in her arms as she moved toward the balcony. Rhys had dropped her off with the flower just a moment ago, tugging one of the two braids parting her hair on his way off.

She had decided to drop off the flower before meeting Cassian and Nesta for a grueling training session. Cass throwing innuendos and Nesta acting like she was unaffected for four hours was exceptionally low on her list of activities she was interested in today. Thus, the brief respite with plants before the coming storm.

She had made it her mission to fill the house with various foliage. Not that it needed to be any more perfect than it already was, but she felt the urge to put in her own personal touch, a reminder of how much she appreciated each and every person to frequent the residence. Each of them had saved her and given her a reason to look forward to this new immortal life to be lived.

This particular balcony she knew well. If only because Azriel tended to favor this balcony for his returns from missions. A moonflower would be good, one that bloomed in the night when he returns. She hoped he saw it as a welcome home even when she was not present to welcome him herself.

She could feel the presence of them before she rounded the entrance, readying her face with a smile at the company she turned the corner.

Her breathe hitched when she took in the almost intimate position she had caught her present company huddled in. Mor’s hands were placed simultaneously on both Azriel’s face and his forearm. While his hands, his beautiful gnarled hands, clasped both her elbows. Their whispers were low and intent, the barest smirk spread across his lips.

When both of them turned to face her, Elain could feel her face blanch and her smile shake. Their expressions were what she would perceive as taken aback when they separated from each other. She wished her heart would not squeeze so hard in her chest, or the pit of her stomach had not leaden so quickly. Recounting moments of Feyre under the breath remarks and glances between her new family surfaced in her mind with clarity. Of course, she had seen moments between the two in front of her but always assumed it was of a type of love between two friends with centuries of history. Not between two people in love.

It was Mor that spoke first, bounding toward Elain in a graceful way only Mor could, “Hello, Darling! Oh, what did you bring for the house today?”

Even though her heart stung she straightened her smile and her shoulders, “It’s a moonflower. I figured it would look best where the moonlight could reach it first. I had no idea you two were out here or I would have waited. Sorry for intruding,” realizing almost too late she looked as though she were skulking in the shadows.

A worrisome expression flashed in Mor’s face; Elain still had yet to look at Azriel, even as she felt a small whispery breath against her ear tell her to look at him. Truth was she was scared to see what his face said. She was even more worried she would see nothing on his face at all. Her movements were unnatural as she set the moonflower off to the side of balcony’s entrance.

From behind her she could hear his cool, raspy voice, “You aren’t, El."

Her heart jerked inside her chest. She was going to embarrass herself more if she stayed.

Saving face and making a quick exit was all she could do at this point.

Her eyes came back to Mor, just Mor, “Well I should head to find Cassian and Nesta,” Mor’s eyebrow raised at that. No one wanted to find Cassian and Nesta. Lately, as they had been working out the kinks in their whatever it was they were doing they were all giving the couple a wide berth. But they felt safer now than this situation.

Still, she avoided looking at the male, whose gaze she could feel burning into her, before she gave into that same voice almost desperate this time, look at him, just look at his face. She practically sprinted to the training grounds to avoid doing just that.

Nesta smiling at Cassian almost made her freeze. Cassian took two fingers and tapped them between Nesta’s eyes who playfully slapped them away.

Cassian caught her eyes first, “There you are. I thought I would have to find Az to see if you were glued to his side again.”

At the mention of Azriel she tried with all her effort not freeze. Judging by the narrowed eyes from Nesta and Cassian’s furrowed brow it was unsuccessful.

“Nope just had to find a place for a new plant.”

Cassian’s gaze slid to Nesta, who side-eyed him in return. Elain rolled her eyes at the both of them. Before Cassian could give her a directive on what she should start on, Elain made her way to the makeshift body double made of cloth and stuffing. Her hands were shaking, before she could make them stop her sister grabbed the wrappings and started working on her hands. When she had tightened the last of it, Nesta held her hands until Elain met her stare. Elain’s defiant streak rarely came to life, now she could feel it leaking through her skin. Nesta must have decided not to push her because all she said was, “we’ll talk after dinner,” and returned to the area were Cassian had two blunted swords at the ready.

She left her hands fly in escalated sequences. Fifty sets of one-twos, one hundred sets of one-two-threes. On and on. Over and over. She let her mind wander, not fully aware of what she was doing but relying on muscle memory.

Again, she had overestimated someone’s feeling for her, and how could she not blame herself.

Had she read too much into the comfortable quietness she and Azriel had when they were alone? Did he still think of her as the selfish sister he had first seen at their family’s manor so long ago? As the useless, heartbroken girl who had gotten captured by her own stupidity? She was not that same girl and would never be again. She grew nauseous to think about all the times she had given him a lingering look or kiss on the cheek. She had slept next to him not even a month earlier. She had been terrified she would lose him physically that night. She had never considered losing him emotionally could be almost as devastating.

Maybe her heart had deceivingly fallen in love with the how he had taken to helping her adjust to life as a fae. Not even a heartbeat later a resounding no answered her. No, she had not loved him at first. But over the months by his side, learning about him, studying him, being his friend, she had discovered that she had truly known no one as fiercely loyal and as good as he was. He was at once one of the most dangerous males in history and her safest place. This love for Azriel was not based on superficial looks and needs like the false love she had with Graysen. It was built on a foundation of implicit trust. Even back when she was human she was drawn to his quiet ability to put her at ease.

But if the encounter she had witness was any indication, Mor was the one that held his heart. Mor, who had treated Elain with such fondness and care, deserved to be loved. Mor had told Elain about her past. And if Azriel loved anyone else, she would not hold it against either of them.

Maybe she was to be alone. Let it make her into a stronger person. No one else knew that she had already rejected the bond with Lucien. She had not even told Nesta or Feyre. She thought back to the night, both of them sitting in the garden at the townhouse after he had helped Azriel. He could never know her heart. And she could never know his. She still felt that bond tug at her ribs every now and then, a gentle reminder than Lucien still cared. She found herself tugging back when he crossed her mind, another reminder to stay safe on his journeys. He still had much to learn from Helion, having vowed to be the one to break to curse on Vassa himself. Yes, he would find someone.

She had found her someone, but he already had another. And she would have to live with that. Maybe for eternity.

“…ain… Elain… Elain!”

Scarred, calloused hands grabbed at hers, breaking her out of her trance. The blue syphons attached to said hands were faintly gleaming. Blood seeped from the knuckles of her hands, Elain stared at it as if it was the most fascinating thing in the world. She had not even felt the skin break, even now that she had noticed it she still could not feel anything as she flexed her hands. Quickly and efficiently her hands were unwrapped. She wanted to stroke the fingers that held hers, but those fingers did not belong to her, no matter how much she wanted them to. Instead she stood there with her hands limp.

“What happened? Look what you did to your hands. Let me fix them. Please?” she had never heard him speak so quickly, like she might run away before he finished speaking.

“Look at me, Elain. Please. Just look at me,” looking at him seemed dangerous to her. Like it might crack her wide open. A hand under her chin lifted it up, up, up until their eyes met. His looked to be somewhere residing between worried and panicked.

Truth was walking away was impossible and it was slowly killing her. She needed to move away from this closeness, she could not breathe with his hands on her face.

Her hands went to his chest, trying to put even the slightest distance between them. “You shouldn’t have to take care of me. I’m so sorry if I made you feel like you have to.”

Her eyes shot open wide when she felt his hands lock around her neck keeping her from moving away.

His eyes were too intense, anyone else would think it was anger, “I do not have to take care of you. I want to. I will always want to.”

Elain shook her head almost violently, trying to throw off the words before they settled into her chest giving her hope, “You cannot say things like that to me. Not when you have Mor.”

Why was he giving her his confused face?

He opened his mouth to speak but she cut him off.

“If you and Mor are together, you should be with her right now not trying to help me. I know you might still see me as fragile because of how I was when we first met, but I am not that person anymore, Azriel. I need to learn to no-“

His hand was on her mouth. At least she had cut him off before he even started to speak, cutting her off in the middle of a sentence was more than a little frustrating especially when it was something this important. Although, his face was still alarmed. She decided her frustration slip from her. His face moved from alarmed to soft. His hand slid away from her mouth and back around her neck.

“There is a conversation that needs to be had. That has needed to be had for a long time, I think. I would suggest we move to another location to have it since I’d rather not have Cassian and Nesta glaring at me from across the training yard. But first, I am not nor, have I ever been with Mor.”

Hope and confusion were warring inside of her. Her mind had not yet caught up with Azriel, yet. The slight smirk on his face was indication he was aware she had yet to catch up. His arms drew her close and she did not stop him.

“Wrap your arms around my neck.” And she did.

However, she was not expecting him to take off immediately without even putting his arms underneath her knees. Her initial panic made her throw a leg over each side of his hips. She knew she was clutching onto him for dear life, and underneath her sudden embarrassment she knew if he had not wanted this exact reaction his hands would not be drawing her closer even still. She was thankful Rhys, yes Rhys, had braided her hair this morning or it would be damned awful to untangle later.

Their flight to the townhouse was silent, much like most their flights were, but it was different. She felt too much. Clutching him, her face pressed next to his, her legs wrapped around him. She could feel the rise and fall of his chest, this way. His wings had always mesmerized her, but this way she studied the shifting in his broad shoulders that carried them. She knew it was inappropriate to touch wings without asking, but she found herself wondering how they felt.

He landed in the garden. Of course, he took her to the garden.

When she made a move to loosen her grip on him, he held fast. She was grateful for it. She had never felt another person this close before, it thrilled and terrified her. His hands were ever slowly inching themselves down her thighs stopping just before they got to her rear. Her breathing was out of control, while Azriel remained perfectly calm. She felt his amusement. She hoped he was proud of himself, she could not even glare at him.

He reached the garden’s bench and lowered her onto the wood. She kept herself from sighing in disappointment when his arms fell away from her.

“I am going to get something for these,” he tugged her hands closer to his face. Cool wisps of shadow traced her fingers and replaced themselves with the shadowsinger’s lips while they traveled up her arm and curled around her shoulder and ear. When she looked back up from the shadows he was walking into the townhouse.

His shadows her playful with her. They had been for a while. Surprisingly, she never noticed them interacting so much with the others. She could feel the shadows move behind and around her neck and jaw, rest there, then move back down to encircle her upper arm almost like a cuff.

Azriel strode back to her. He reminded her of a large cat, the way he prowled. He was almost too graceful and silent for how big he was. Sleek came to her mind when she looked at him. Sleek, Dark, and Silent. Getting overwhelmed by him was still easy after all this time. Would there ever be a time when she would not be?

Instead of crouching in front of her, he straddled the bench. Her legs were pulled to the side and draped over each of his legs so that she was face to face with him. Certain that her face was the color of the roses behind Azriel’s back she ducked her head to focus on their hands. His hands cleaned hers, his hands rubbed salve gently over the wounds. It was while his hands started wrapping her knuckles that he started to speak.

“I have never been with Mor, but I did have feelings for her for a long, long time. You know what she went through all those centuries ago, they started before even then,” she wondered if he was pausing to test her reaction. Her stomach wanted to heave itself at his words. Her hands must have stiffened because he rubbed her palm after he had finished wrapping the first one.

“I had feelings for her, but I never believed I was good enough. For hundreds of years I kept my mouth shut about it. I watched her take lovers, and I had my own,” he said unapologetically. Elain knew he had lovers. It would be absurd for someone who had lived for centuries to not have them, “But in all those years, the only thing I felt in regard to my feelings for Mor was pain. I know now my feelings caused her pain as well. Mor, Cassian and I danced an uncomfortable dance for centuries because I clung to my feelings for her, Mor was afraid to hurt me, and Cassian was stuck in the middle trying to navigate and be a buffer for us both.”

His face was stark and open to her, “Mor and I hurt each other, and we hurt Cassian.”

His second wrapping job finished, he settled for holding her hands firmly in his, she turned hers around to hold his back. “My romantic feelings for Mor did not make me a better person. I know you understand what that is like.”

Elain thought about how bitter Graysen had become toward her after she had been Made.

Azriel lip curled up a little at the corner, “Although to be fair, Graysen might just be a prick.”

A watery giggle broke left her mouth with a smile. She saw his eyes lock onto it, “There she is.”

Elain cleared her throat, he watched her, waiting for her to speak, “Do you still have those feelings for her?”

Eyes always intent on hers, “I’ve reconciled that no, I no longer have those feelings for Mor. And what you saw this morning,” Elain felt her cheeks flush again, “was a conversation of forgiveness. I asked for her forgiveness. And she asked for mine in return. When I saw you standing there, I froze. I was concerned you had heard what I had just told her, before I could come to you and tell you myself.”

Scared to hear the answer as she was, Elain asked the question anyways, “And what is it you wanted to tell me?”

“That I love you. I think I have for a while now.”

He said it so casually, like it would not break open her world and put it back together more beautifully than she could have ever imagined.

She knew she was crying and did not try to stop it. He wiped the tears away, while he continued talking, “I wanted to give you time to come to me at first, to know it was your choice to love me. It might be selfish of me, but I need to tell you. You need to know sleeping with you in my arms that night was the happiest I have ever felt. I want you to know I could spend the rest of eternity waiting for you if that is what you need.”

Elain’s hands grappled for the front of his leathers, pulling herself up into his lap fully. And this time her lips met his. His lips were cool and a relief to her own that were burning. Their lips separate and just as quickly came back together again, this time almost wild. Her hands tugging at him needing him closer. She sighed, and he growled. His tongue received entrance to her mouth freely. Hers seeking his in return. She like he was stealing her soul and replacing it with his own.

She separated their lips; she may be immortal, but she still needed to breathe. He was staring at her eyes almost glazed like he could not believe what just happened.

“I love you, Az,” at that his gaze cleared and touch hers.

“You could see me, when no one else could. I feel stronger because of you. A mate bond could not even keep me from loving you,” maybe she should have told everyone about her rejecting that same bond.

“I told Lucien I would not mate with him. We both decided rejecting the bond was the right thing to do.”

His face did not register surprise at the fact, “Sometimes, I think the shadows are just as attracted to you as I am.” They had told him, is what he did not say. It felt nice to be favored by his shadows.

“Kiss me, again,” was all she said. He kissed her like she was indestructible. And she loved it. Her instincts her screaming to take and give. Her body pushed insistently against him. Finding him hardened against her stomach only made her more desperate. It was Azriel who stopped them this time.

His throat cleared, “As much as I want to make you scream on this bench, I think it’d be better to wait until we can find somewhere all our lovely friends will be unable to witness it.” Elain buried her face in his neck and groaned, earning her a raspy chuckle.

“Your sister has been watching us for last twenty minutes at least.”

“Oh, Mother Tits,” she might die from embarrassment, “Want to skip dinner tonight?”

Azriel’s laugh was full and burned a path to her heart, “I can think of something I would much rather eat.”

She knew she should be scandalized, yet a firm, “Please,” is what she answered stroking a finger along the ridge of his wing causing him to shiver.

His answering smile was wicked and gorgeous. Without another word he stood with her still clinging to him and took off into the blue canopy over Velaris.

[jaemtens]

Rescue (Chapter 9)

seventeen | junhao | side meanie / vernkwan | chapter 9 of 10 | 36.0k

tumblr links: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 ao3 links: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

written with @rendawnie | updates every saturday morning

summary:  When Soonyoung finally “agrees” to let Junhui get a dog for their apartment, he realizes that he needed something a little bit more than a puppy. Enter Minghao, the bona fide Bad Boy™ with tattoos and piercings. Oh, and he doodles puppies and kittens in their Probability and Confirmation class.

chapter 9: junhui

“Jun, we can see you out here. You’re not sneaky.”

Junhui’s head shot up at the sound of Dokyeom’s voice coming from the now-open door of the shelter. Eyes wide, he peeked over the large bush he’d been trying to hide behind, his third hiding place in the last half an hour. Dokyeom was leaning against the door to keep it propped open, arms crossed his chest, looking disappointed and amused all at once.

“It’s fine, you can come in,” Dokyeom offered, shaking his head good-naturedly. “Minghao’s not here.”

At that, Junhui popped out from behind the landscaping, feeling forty-six percent more distressed than he had in the entire thirty minutes he’d been trying to make himself go inside the shelter.

“Not here?” Junhui squeaked, approaching Dokyeom now. “What do you mean, not here? Is he okay? Did he quit? Did he leave the country to avoid me??” Junhui was practically wringing his hands by the time he stopped almost-yelling at Dokyeom, and he’d never actually seen anyone wring their hands in real life. He hadn’t even considered it being a thing until just now.

As Junhui stood there, flailing internally and externally, watching Dokyeom watch him with a growing amount of pity, Dino appeared, poking his head out the door Dokyeom was leaning against.

“Relax, Jun. He’s just off today. People do have days off, y’know,” Dino said, chuckling.

Junhui deflated, overcome with relief. “Oh. Right. A day off,” he muttered, lowering his eyes to his shoes as he attempted to process his embarrassment. He was acting like a total idiot, and he knew it, and now Minghao’s friends knew it, too, so it would probably only be a matter of time before Minghao himself knew it, and that wasn’t going to get him anywhere. He had to pull himself together, and fast.

Dokyeom rolled his eyes, lifting himself off the door and turning to go inside. “Well, you might as well come in. I think you’re driving away all the potential visitors. People hiding in bushes are never a good sign,” he tossed over his shoulder as he disappeared into the shelter, Dino following along behind him like the puppy he was. Junhui sighed, exiting the foliage completely, dusting a few stray leaves off his sweater as he wandered in after them.

Dino was already sitting in his usual place behind the counter when Junhui made it into the shelter, Dokyeom flipping through a neatly organized file nearby. Without glancing up, Dokyeom began to talk again.

“So, did you have more questions about Lilli? Anything wrong?” he asked, and his voice sounded professional again, as if the simple act of crossing the threshold of his place of employment had the profound ability to alter his personality. Junhui was kind of marveling at that, wishing he had a tenth of the maturity, emotional and otherwise, that Minghao’s friends seemed to, when he remembered that he should probably answer Dokyeom’s questions.

“Uh. No, not really. Lilli’s great. She’s amazing,” Junhui replied, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I came to… I actually wanted to… um…” he trailed off, knowing that the real reason he’d come was probably already glaringly obvious, and Dokyeom had just been humoring him. Junhui was always far more obvious than he liked to believe he was. When he looked up again, both Dokyeom and Dino were just sort of staring at him, twin expressions of bemusement on their faces. Just waiting for him to state the obvious.

Well. Maybe he wouldn’t give them the satisfaction, Junhui thought, frowning a little as he stared back at the shelter employees.

Finally, Dino saved everyone in the room from a prolonged silent stare-off, and said, “You came to see Minghao, huh.”

Junhui sighed, falling onto the nearest couch, probably more dramatically than he’d meant to. “Yeah. I guess,” he groaned, throwing one arm over his eyes to shield himself from any more pitying looks Dino and Dokyeom were giving him.

Someone moved Junhui’s legs off the couch, and then he felt the piece of furniture dip with the weight of someone new sitting down next to him. He didn’t bother to look as whoever it was rearranged Junhui’s legs on their lap carefully.

“I don’t think this is the place you need to talk to Minghao, Jun,” Dino said finally, his voice thoughtful.

Junhui moved his hand enough to squint at the younger boy next to him. “What do you mean?”

Dino frowned a little, thinking hard. “I mean… this is now kind of the place where things keep getting confused between you guys, and keep going wrong. I think you need… a new place, y’know?” he suggested, looking over at Junhui.

Junhui matched his frown. “I guess you could be right. We aren’t really getting anywhere, every time we see each other here. But… he won’t talk to me in class, when he shows up, and I don’t really see him anywhere else. Where am I supposed to find him?” he questioned, at a loss.

“The shelter,” Dokyeom said from behind the desk.  “You need to find him at the homeless shelter.”

An ice cold chill ran down Junhui’s spine at hearing the same suggestion he’d gotten from Wonwoo. “I don’t think I can go there, Dokyeom. I don’t think I should,” he protested, feeling sick at the very thought of it. He wasn’t worried about actually being at the shelter itself. He wasn’t afraid of Minghao’s situation, at all. He was mostly just afraid of Minghao’s apparently extra large sense of pride, and his likely reaction to Junhui just showing up at his sort-of-home, which would probably amount to a door being slammed in his face and no further opportunities for conversation. Ever.

He realized suddenly that this trip had been pointless. He was just getting the same advice he'd already gotten. The advice he had felt so sure of at first, but then, in typical Junhui fashion, began to doubt.

Dino gave Junhui a serious look, still next to him on the couch with Junhui’s legs in his lap. “Sometimes it doesn’t matter what you should do, Jun. It matters what you need to do. Sometimes, I think…” Dino trailed off for a moment, pondering his next words before he said them, “I think the meaning of a person’s actions is more important than the actions themselves,” Dino decided after a while. “I think that you being willing to go out there and see Minghao might be the only thing that makes him pay attention.”

Junhui blinked at Dino in amazement. “Dude. How old are you, again?” he asked in disbelief.

Dino grinned. “I’m twenty!”

Sitting up, Junhui shook his head, laughing a little. “Twenty, and about twenty years worth of smarter than me. Unbelievable,” he muttered.

From across the room, Dokyeom snorted. “I know, right? It’s disturbing.”

When Junhui looked back at Dino, the kid was still smiling serenely, looking completely confident in his words. Junhui really had no choice but to accept his previous decision.

And he would. He just needed one more night to continue wallowing in the whole situation, first.

*

As he walked down the hall towards his apartment, after he’d visited the shelter, Junhui heard something strange. There were… strange noises, coming from his home. Or, maybe the apartment next door. He took a few more cautious steps in that direction, and, yep, it was definitely inside he and Soonyoung’s apartment.

Junhui heard talking. And laughter. And terrible, terrible off-key singing, interspersed between the two.

It was all very bizarre, because of late, Sooyoung had been pretty stressed and depressed. Between Junhui’s life falling apart, and what Junhui could only guess was Jihoon’s continued lack of making the first move and actually talking to Soonyoung, he’d watched helplessly as his roommate descended into a pattern of eating, sleeping, making sure Junhui and Lilli were fed, and not much else. Soonyoung had gone out the other night for the first time in weeks, but when he got back, Junhui couldn’t get a straight answer on where he’d been. It was terribly inconvenient, timing-wise, because Junhui was pretty busy melting down and shoving his head further up his own ass simultaneously, so he couldn’t really do much to help his roommate out of whatever dark hole he’d fallen down.

But now, Junhui was almost one hundred percent positive he heard Soonyoung enjoying himself, and what was more, he didn’t seem to be alone, inside the apartment.

Y’know. Unless he’d suddenly developed a split personality and the two of them were having a killer time belting out Big Bang together.

Junhui maybe should have texted Soonyoung from the hallway, before just barging in on whatever party he was having. Instead, he just sort of threw the front door open without warning, and when he did, Junhui was treated to the sight of Soonyoung and Jihoon, microphones in their hands as they danced and karaoke’d like idiots on Junhui’s (Soonyoung’s) couch. That would have been enough for Junhui to tease Soonyoung about for the next decade on its own, really. But then he noticed more.

Soonyoung and Jihoon were sitting awfully close together, for one. Legs touching, even. Both of them were blushing, and Junhui was reasonably sure it wasn’t just because “Bang Bang Bang” took a lot of effort and exertion to pull off properly.

But the most incriminating piece of evidence? That came when Junhui’s eyes lowered ever so slightly, and he saw Kwon Soonyoung and Lee Jihoon, the Meanest T.A. in the whole university (except not) holding hands, right in front of Junhui’s salad.

Right on his couch that his roommate actually owned so it wasn’t technically his couch, but, whatever.

Soonyoung vaulted off said couch when he saw Junhui, and Jihoon just sort of froze in place, still grinning and flushed as Soonyoung cut off the music swiftly, straightening up to regard his roommate.

“Jun. Hey. I didn’t think you’d be home for a while. You, uh… you know Jihoon?” Soonyoung asked, waving his arm in Jihoon’s direction and wearing an expression that positively begged Junhui not to reveal certain secrets, lest he face immediate death.

Junhui cleared his throat awkwardly, tossing his bag on the floor. “Uh… yeah. We might have met,” he began, trying not to smirk too openly. “Hey, Jihoon.”

Jihoon just sort of nodded and did some sort of vague hand gesture that Junhui guessed was probably supposed to count as a wave. He seemed to be incapable of forming words, suddenly.

No one said anything for another few seconds, until Junhui finally clapped his hands together and nodded, once. “Well. This has been sufficiently weird. I’m just gonna go to my room now,” Junhui muttered, navigating around the messy front room towards the bedroom hallway. He’d almost made it to his destination when Junhui stopped, listening for any signs of life back in the living room. It was still dead silent, and Junhui figured both Soonyoung and Jihoon were still trying to catch up with, y’know. Having been caught. In short, it was the perfect time to fuck with Soonyoung, just a little bit.

“You guys don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, now!” Junhui called into the silence, knowing his intended audience was paying attention. “Oh, and if you need a condom, Soonyoung’s got a big box of them in the drawer next to his bed, Jihoon!” Junhui continued. “They’ve been there for a while, so maybe check the expiration date first, though! You’re welcoooooooooooooome!! ” Junhui trilled, and then he walked into his bedroom and slammed the door, locking it after him just in case Soonyoung decided he didn’t want to wait, to murder his roommate.

Junhui flopped onto his bed, giggling. He didn’t know why, because he was still scared out of his mind about the idea of visiting Minghao at the homeless shelter, but he was actually starting to feel better about everything. Less mopey, for sure. Maybe it was the fact that everyone around Minghao, everyone who spent more time with him and knew him better than Junhui did so far, seemed to think that Junhui was okay. That he was good enough for their friend, hell, that he was what Minghao needed. That, in itself, was reassuring.

But, oddly, seeing Soonyoung with Jihoon had also given him a not-so-small amount of hope, if he was being perfectly honest. He’d watched Soonyoung pine over Jihoon for two years, much longer than Junhui had spent losing his mind over Minghao (yet). He’d watched Soonyoung crush on Jihoon from afar, watched him be too shy to do anything about it. And now Jihoon was in their apartment, hanging out with Soonyoung, and Junhui knew that his little push of help had only done so much to make that happen. Soonyoung probably deserved a lot of the credit too, and once Junhui was through dealing with his own shit, he’d get the whole story of how it went down out of his roommate.

Once Soonyoung was through punishing Junhui for what he’d just done, also. There was that.

Junhui laid down to sleep after a while, knowing that tomorrow was the day. He couldn’t put it off any longer, and he didn’t want to. The determination he’d felt was still there, but he also felt confident that he was doing the right thing. Nervously confident, but confident all the same. It was an improvement. Junhui could do this. He could prove that he was what Minghao needed.

He only hoped that Minghao was willing to let him in. Like, physically let him in to his room at the shelter, never mind emotionally.

That would definitely make things easier.

*

The next morning, Junhui was up before the sun. Truthfully, he hadn’t slept very much at all, so that wasn’t difficult to accomplish. He woke up early. He cleaned the living room and the kitchen. He made breakfast for himself and Soonyoung, and after a moment’s thought, added a third plate, just in case Jihoon was still there. He figured it could only help his case, in incurring as little of Soonyoung’s wrath from the previous night as possible.

Junhui had gone through his cereal, eggs, bacon, and two pancakes before Soonyoung shuffled out of his bedroom sleepily, sitting down at the table across from Junhui with a yawn. Junhui remained quiet, eating slowly as Soonyoung took in the state of the apartment, with its freshly cleaned kitchen and front room, and then stared down at his food, still steaming hot from where Junhui had kept microwaving it over and over (minus the cereal, of course) until Soonyoung showed up.

“Thanks,” Soonyoung said finally, picking up and shoving an entire sausage into his mouth. Junhui watched him as he chewed, waiting for whatever was going to happen next.

Soonyoung wiped his mouth on his arm ( gross ) and took a long swig of orange juice, regarding Junhui with a little smile on his face. “Okay. You can ask me.”

Junhui raised an eyebrow. If Soonyoung had somehow forgotten about Junhui’s betrayal at the end of the evening, he wasn’t about to remind him. “How was your night, Soonyoung?” he questioned instead.

Soonyoung grinned, stabbing some eggs and bringing them to his mouth. “Fucking phenomenal, ” he answered, stuffing his face anew. He didn’t look remotely displeased with Junhui. Just happy. It was refreshing. It made Junhui happy, too.

“I’m glad,” he said honestly, finishing off the last of his pancakes and clearing his plate himself. Soonyoung was still too sleepy and surprised and smiley to mention that Junhui was doing his entire job for him, probably. “I’ve gotta get going. I’m going to see Minghao,” Junhui said, turning off the sink and leaving the plates there as he made his way back over to Soonyoung.

At the table, Soonyoung glanced up from his food. “Oh? At the shelter?”

Junhui fought back the butterflies in his stomach. “Yeah. Just, not the animal one.”

Soonyoung finally remembered that he had a napkin, and made use of it. “Wow. Good luck, man,” he said after wiping his mouth, reaching up to pat Junhui on the back as best he could from his seat.

“Yeah,” Junhui said again. “Um… could I borrow your car? I don’t really want to take the bus since I don’t know… how long… how long I might be there,” he finished, his brain entertaining the best possible outcome of this plan for a few seconds as he zoned out where he stood.

“Sure,” Soonyoung said immediately, without argument. Holy shit. Maybe Jihoon really was good for him. Maybe they mellowed each other out, or something, Junhui thought.

Junhui smiled gratefully and plucked Soonyoung’s keys off their hook on the wall of the kitchen, taking a deep breath. “Okay. I’m gonna do this,” he said, giving Soonyoung a quick nod before he headed for the door of the apartment via the living room.

“Oh, Jun?” Soonyoung’s voice rang out, right when Junhui had almost managed to escape. His hand was on the doorknob, for crying out loud. So. Close.

Junhui cleared his throat. “Uh… yeah?” He closed his eyes, waiting for Soonyoung’s response.

“I think we should add another month to your dishes duty, for that crap you pulled last night, don’t you?” Soonyoung countered, his voice almost teasing, but Junhui knew he was serious.

He sighed, dropping his head in defeat. “Yeah, probably,” Junhui muttered, letting himself out the front door before Soonyoung could pile on any more punishments.

*

The drive to the shelter didn’t provide Junhui with nearly enough time to prepare for what he was about to do, just like the previous few days hadn’t, either. Junhui was in unfamiliar territory, now. He’d never done anything close to this, never even thought about it until Minghao. No one else had ever seemed worth the trouble, so Junhui hadn’t made an effort. But Minghao? Minghao was worth everything.

Junhui pulled Soonyoung’s car up to the curb outside the shelter he’d located with help from Wonwoo. He didn’t know what he was expecting, but the place looked okay. It wasn’t run down by any means, or even in a bad part of town. There were about ten or so rooms, lined up on two floors with separate doors outside, and Junhui craned his neck, trying to see the numbers. Dino and Dokyeom had told him that Minghao stayed in room number 8, for his favorite number. Junhui found that sort of impossibly cute, honestly.

He sat in the car for another five minutes, taking deep breaths and generally just trying to pump himself up, hopefully without going so far as to lose his breakfast all over the dashboard. It worked as much as he needed it to. It worked well enough to propel him out of the car after a while, hopping over the curb and letting himself in through the open metal gate that separated the shelter from the street.

God, what if Minghao wasn’t even home? What if he’d gone out somewhere? Junhui wondered if he’d lose his nerve completely if he was forced to try again later. It was possible. He was just going to have to find out.

Slowly, he made his way up the stairs and to the door of number 8, designated only by a single sticker slapped onto the chipped, painted wood. Junhui took a deep breath, and then he knocked.

He knocked four times, and then four more. Because eight.

Only a moment passed before Minghao’s voice sounded from inside.

“I’m not here.”

Junhui fought back a panicked chuckle. Minghao made him smile so much, underneath all the layers of nervousness he was currently experiencing. “Yes, you are,” he countered, raising his voice enough to be heard through the door.

When Minghao responded again, he sounded suspicious. “Who is it?”

Junhui didn’t answer. He was afraid that if he did, Minghao wouldn’t open the door, might tell him to leave immediately without even giving him a chance. He just stood there and waited, and after a while, that proved to be the right tactic, because he heard sounds of bed springs squeaking as Minghao got up, then feet padding towards the door.

There was no peephole, no window. Junhui was glad.

Junhui listened as Minghao unlocked the door quickly, and then, while he was in the middle of taking another deep, calming breath, Minghao opened the door a crack.

“Hi,” Junhui said right away. “I want to ta--”

Minghao frowned and slammed the door shut again.

It was about what Junhui had expected, but he wasn’t giving up that easy. He knocked again.

Inside, he heard Minghao groan. “Just go away, Jun. Please.”

Junhui set his mouth in a straight line of determination. “I’m not going anywhere, Hao.” He hoped it was alright to use the nickname. He liked the way it felt on his tongue.

When Minghao spoke again, it was quieter. Sadder. “I’m not worth the trouble, I promise,” he said softly, and Junhui frowned.

“Yes, you are. You are worth it, to me,” he said, trying to keep desperation out of his voice.

Minghao didn’t answer for a while. After almost a full minute, Junhui sighed, sitting down outside Minghao’s door and scooting as close as he possibly could. “Look, if you won’t open the door, that’s fine. I’m still going to say what I came here to say,” Jun decided firmly, leaning his head against the wood.

Still no response from the other side.

Junhui started talking.

“I know you’re embarrassed about your situation, about staying here. But, I’m not. I don’t think any less of you for it,” Junhui began, licking his lips as he thought about how to go on. “Actually, I… I think it’s really brave, Hao,” he finished, giving himself a second’s break.

“I think that… I think it’s brave that you’re trying so hard to get somewhere, and I think that being here isn’t anything to be ashamed of,” Junhui said. “It’s just a bump in your road, y’know?”

He sighed, turning his head for a moment and staring out onto the street below, at the cars going by, oblivious to what was happening above them.

“I’m sorry, Minghao,” Junhui said next. “I’m sorry that every time we saw each other, things got screwed up. I’m sorry about all the misunderstandings and everything. I never wanted any of that to happen, and then it just…” he paused, letting out a breath of air before he went on. “It just kept happening, and I didn’t know how to fix it.”

“So…” Junhui murmured, almost to himself. “I’m here. I’m here to fix it.”

He cleared his throat, scrambling for the words he needed. “I don’t have any personal experiences like this, Hao, I don’t know what this is like, but… I’ve been through things, too,” Junhui said, raising his voice again, just in case Minghao was listening. For all Junhui knew, he had put in his earbuds inside his room, the better to ignore Junhui with.

He might not have even had an audience, but Junhui told his whole story, anyway. He started at the beginning, with baseball and dancing and school and not knowing what he wanted to do with his life. He kept going, through the first part of college, when he’d finally come out to his friends. When Junhui got to the part about being scared to date for the first time, about how it felt to still not be open and honest with his family about any of it, how it made him feel alienated and sad and how it translated to his indifference and indecisiveness with school, Junhui thought he heard Minghao sit down on the other side of the door. Maybe. Maybe he was closer. Junhui hoped so, because he was kind of starting to fall apart, on his side.

“Anyway, I’m just… I’m tired of being scared, Minghao. I’m tired of being so scared that I ruin everything,” Junhui continued, fighting back tears, suddenly. “I’m tired of being too scared to try and get what I really want.” Junhui looked up as the door in front of him rattled a little, accepting the weight of a body against it, a thin piece of wood away from Junhui.

“What I want is you, Hao. I… I always have,” Junhui admitted, sniffling quietly. “I’ve liked you since the very first day I saw you in class. And every day I just… I like you more and more.”

On Minghao’s side of the door, Junhui thought he heard a small sigh, and maybe a giggle. He didn’t know which it was, or if it was either. So he kept going.

“Ever since I came out, I haven’t dated anyone. Fuck, I’ve… I’ve never even kissed a boy, officially,” Junhui said, wondering why he’d added officiallyat the end, wondering what officially even meant in this context.

“You’re the first person I’ve had such strong feelings for, ever,” Junhui confessed, feeling shy and bold all at once. “And you’re the only person I would do something like this for. The only person who’s worth it. I know you think you’re trash, Hao, but… but, god, you’re not,” Junhui insisted, face an inch from the door, reaching up and placing his palm on it as if it would add some sort of emphasis to his words.

“You’re not trash. I think you’re the best person I’ve ever met in my entire life, and I think that where you are doesn’t make you what or who you are, and I think that what you are is... “ Junhui had to stop to take a breath. He had sort of forgotten.

“I think that what you are is special, Hao. I think that you and your mind and your voice and your drawings and your dancing and your tattoos and your… the way you care about people even though you’re struggling, I think that’s amazing,” Junhui said, his words tinged with the passion he felt.

Junhui was almost done. Probably. Hopefully. “I used to be scared every day, Minghao. Scared of who I was and scared of life. But now, all I’m scared of…” Junhui closed his eyes, the words on the tip of his tongue, tears slipping down his cheeks one after the other. “All I’m scared of is you not opening that door.”

He stopped, gulping in huge breaths, both because he kept running out of air from talking so much, and also as an attempt to stop his heart racing. Until now, Soonyoung (and sort of Jihoon, he guessed) was the only person who knew all of that about Junhui. But, he trusted Minghao with it, regardless of how this turned out. He felt good about saying it all. He could leave here with as few regrets as possible, either way.

Junhui sat and stared at the door between he and Minghao for a long while, without saying anything else. He started to wonder if maybe Minghao had spent Junhui’s entire confession cutting a person-sized hole in his wall with the knife he always carried around, and had escaped through it long ago, missing everything Junhui had said.

Finally, just as Junhui was growing increasingly distracted and panicked by that thought, the door opened again.

It was just a fraction of an inch, the tiniest, tiniest sliver of a centimeter, but it was enough.

It was enough for Junhui to see Minghao on the other side, tears in his eyes and hair framing his face as he stared at Junhui nervously.

It was enough for Junhui to feel hopeful again.

It was enough for Junhui to rock forward on his heels until half his face was inside Minghao’s room, so close to Minghao that he could have counted each eyelash fanning Minghao’s slightly damp cheeks.

It was enough for Junhui to kiss a boy for the very first time, to kiss Minghao, just once, soft and sweet and full of everything he’d promised in his words. Everything he felt, and had felt.

It was enough.

Junhui had thought it would only be one kiss. That was all he’d been prepared for.

He was woefully unprepared when Minghao reached out and yanked Junhui inside by the collar of his jacket, kicking the door shut behind them once Junhui was on the right side of it and pulling Junhui closer, cool, slender hands cupping his face as they kissed and kissed.

Junhui was lightheaded and practically laying on top of Minghao by the time they had to stop and take a breath, and he just sort of stayed there while they worked on that, blinking down at Minghao and Minghao smiling up at him, just a little.

“Hi,” Minghao said finally.

“Hey,” Junhui answered, brushing Minghao’s long, in-need-of-a-cut hair away from his face.

Minghao sat up, forcing Junhui to do the same, and Junhui glanced around Minghao’s small room, at his few belongings and the bare walls, only one lamp in the corner lighting the place up.

He looked back at Minghao, who had been watching Junhui a bit anxiously. Junhui very much wanted to get back to kissing that anxiety away, but he was also suddenly consumed by one other thought, a much bigger promise than any of the ones he thought he would make to Minghao today.

One he hadn’t exactly shared with Soonyoung, since he’d only just thought of it, but oh well. He’d get to that.

“Move in with me,” Junhui said softly, still gazing at Minghao.

Minghao’s jaw dropped slightly as he looked at Junhui, clearly trying to gauge whether or not he was serious. Junhui guessed Minghao had determined he was, because he started to grin, after a few moments of silence.

“You sure you don’t wanna ask your boyfriend if it’s okay, first?” Minghao said, his grin turning crooked and a smirk in his voice.

Junhui chuckled a little, lacing his fingers through Minghao’s, watching how they fit together perfectly. Knowing everything about this was perfect. He let that thought sink in, before he replied, a dark pink blush covering his cheeks as he did.

“I’m asking him right now.”

[lark-in-ink]

Part two/god knows what :)  Part one here  (Due south, F/K, AU)

Eventually this real serious-looking girl- young woman, whatever, probably fresh out of law school- came around, and we talked and then she talked to Detective Vecchio and I talked to Detective Vecchio.  Whole lot of talking all around. Then a sketch artist, then back to Vecchio, trying to figure out some way to track the skinheads down.  He whined a bit about me hiding behind a lawyer, but seemed to be taking it seriously at least.  

When Constable Fraser showed up again, it was to announce that the hospital had called, the kid had woken up, and did Vecchio want to go to the hospital to get his statement.

Vecchio sighed. “Yeah, yeah, let's go get his statement.  Who knows, maybe he actually knows who the hell those guys are.”

“Hey-” I started, but he put up his hand at me.  

“Yeah, you did great, saved the kid a lot of hurt and maybe his life, but that doesn't help us actually find the shitheads that did it, which maybe if he knows them we can, OK?”

“It was very commendable what you did,” Fraser interjected before I could say anything.

I ducked my head. “Yeah, well, anyone woulda done it if they'd been there.”

“Okay, good, right,” Vecchio said. “Come on, Benny, let's go.”

“Of course, Ray,” Fraser said, and then, “Mr. Kowalski, do you need a ride anywhere?”  Immediately, Vecchio shot him a glare, and after that was a whole lot of faces between them like they were having some sort of silent conversation they’d had a million times.  

I cleared my throat.  “Actually, uh, I wanted to head over to the hospital myself, uh, just make sure he’s alright- no, that’s stupid, of course he’s not alright, but you know. I’d feel better if I could see him.  I can take the El from there, it’s no problem”  

“That’s a very commendable sentiment,” Fraser said, “and,” and he turned to give what I guess was his version of glaring back to Vecchio “wouldn’t be out of our way at all.”  

“Fine, fine, whatever,” Vecchio said.

Apparently I got shotgun, which was good, because it wasn’t just Constable Fraser and Detective Vecchio, it was also Fraser’s dog.  “Wolf, actually- well, half-wolf, or so he claims,” he’d said when he introduced Diefenbaker, so I was awfully glad that I wasn’t in the back seat with him.  Not so much because he seemed dangerous- I don’t know wolves but a lot of tail-wagging and slobber doesn’t spell out imminent threat to me- but because damn, that was a lot of slobber.  

Vecchio seemed a little less standoffish once we got going. It helped, I guess, that somehow Fraser had gotten started talking about this one time he'd tracked an “unknown assailant” halfway across Canada or whatever from noticing what kind of freaking cigarette he'd been smoking.  It sounded pretty screwy to me, like he was either seriously exaggerating or outright making shit up, but Vecchio started smiling even as he was rolling his eyes.

The way to the hospital went pretty near where shit had gone down in the first place. I glanced out the windows, wondering what the odds were of the badguys sticking around.

“By then, of course, I had nearly run out of provisions, and had to turn to living off the land,” Fraser was saying.  “Diefenbaker was good enough to alert me to the presence of rabbits, and not wishing to alert the man I was tracking to my presence, I eschewed the use of my rifle, and instead fashioned a slingshot from the nearby foliage.”

It was a neighborhood I was only vaguely familiar with- I'd been a little out of my usual way today. But I still recognized a few buildings here and there- we were only a couple blocks over from the alley where they'd jumped the kid.

“Oh, sure. The foliage. I'm sure I'd do the same thing in your position,” Vecchio smiled.

The streets weren't real crowded or anything, but there were a few pedestrians out, some people shopping, a couple bums but nobody bothering to panhandle. Normal life on a Chicago street.

“Don't be silly, Ray, I very much doubt you have the experience- though I'd be very happy to teach you, if you were interested. Now, as it happened, while stalking a rabbit through the forest, I came close to a clearing and was very surprise to see a man standing there.  And before I could alert him to my presence, I saw him raise a cigarette to his lips and light it, and wouldn't you know it, I detected the scent of-”

“Fuck!” I yelled when what I saw penetrated my brain. “That’s them! that’s the bastards right there! four-oclock- the leather jackets” and Vecchio said something in response, but I didn’t hear him because next thing I knew I heard the back door opening, I looked over my shoulder and the mountie had fucking dove out of the moving car.  Two seconds later, he was on his feet running hell for leather at the malfeseants, as he’d called them, and a split second after that we were pulling one hell of a u-turn, and I lost sight of him.

“Dammit, not again,” Vecchio said. “Fucking super-mountie.”

But then we were speeding down after them. By the time Vecchio got out of the car Constable Fraser had somehow gotten one of them into handcuffs, and the dog was menacing the other pretty credibly.  

“These the guys?” Vecchio asked me as I ambled over.

“Sure are,” I agreed. They glared at me. I noticed a few noticable bruises on them. Heh. Sweet.  

He started giving them their rights. Something prickled in the back of my head. I turned around and saw the guy across the street maybe half a second before instinct took over.  “Gun” someone yelled, maybe it was me.  I threw myself at Fraser. Something stung on my right arm.  We were on the ground. My arm hurt- REALLY hurt.  So did bits of my left side, where it had hit the concrete instead of nice warm mountie. The spot on my arm throbbed.  

“Ray! Ray!”

I blinked. I was on the ground on my back now. Everything felt a little far away, which was nice because otherwise I probably would be screaming in pain. A face  hovered over me. Fraser. Pretty. “You called me Ray!” I said.

“The ambulance is on it’s way,” he said. “The bullet seems to have hit your arm- I suspect it hurts rather badly, but I doubt your life is in danger.”

“Ouchie,” I agreed affably. There was something under my head- his hand? “Didja get the badguys?”

He nodded at me, still staring straight into my eyes. “The men you identified are handcuffed and should be in police custody in about- forty five seconds, if I’m interpreting the acoustical properties of sirens correctly. Unfortunately, the gunman fled, but I believe I’ll be able to produce an excellent likeness.”

He was right about the time- pretty soon there were all kinds of cops around, and a couple of paramedics shoed him away from me and got to work. It was kind of a blur after that, ambulance to ER, them sticking me on a bed, poking at my arm, cleaning it and making sure I wasn’t bleeding out or anything, before all hell broke loose out in the rest of the ER and they left me alone for what must have been a couple hours at least  

I didn’t mind too much though. They’d stuck some good drugs in my IV before running off to go deal with the poor fuckers who’d been in a car crash.  

So good I must have dozed off, because at some point I found myself waking up, and there he was, sitting next to the bed.

“Hey,” I said groggily, blinking. He looked different, less of the polite mask, looking- kind of actually worried.

He smiled weakly at me.  "Hello.  I'd tell the nurses you're awake, but frankly they still seem quite busy, and one did assure me that you're in no serious danger."  

"Good, that's good," I said.  "Guess I got lucky, huh? I mean as far as getting shot goes."

"Indeed," he agreed. "I have to thank you, by the way. If not for your quick thinking and entirely unselfish impulses, that bullet could easily have hit me, and somewhere much worse than a graze on the arm."  

"Eh, I was heading towards the ground anyway, no biggie to drag you with me," I said, but some back part of my brain was getting way too happy about having the pretty mountie grateful to me.

“I saw Kyle. He's on the mend, but I don't think the hospital staff wishes him to have any more visitors today, aside from his family.”

I blinked. “Kyle?”

“The young man who you protected.”

Oh, right. “Oh. Good. That's good.”

When they finally got un-busy enough to discharge me- arm bandaged and in a sling with a prescription for vicodin and strict orders to get my doctor to look at it in a couple days- he was still there.  Detective Vecchio had gone home, but I guess the guilt was getting to him good. He hovered next to me as I filled out paperwork and read over the discharge instructions.  

As I was lingering near the exit of the ER, trying to figure out whether to take the El home or get a cab, he said, “Ray?”

I looked up at him, still a little hazy. He was biting his lip, looking uncertain, first staring somewhere over my shoulder and then straight at me.  

“Yeah?”

"Would you- would you like to get something to eat?"

I blinked. Come to think of it, I was pretty hungry.  "Yeah," I said. "Ok."

[imagineteamfreewill]

October

Title: October

Pairing: Reader x Sam

Word Count: 2,004

Summary: You and Sam go for a morning autumn walk and it ends up being more surprising than either of you asked for.

A/N: This is my submission for @thing-you-do-with-that-thing ’s Colors of Fall Challenge. My prompt was #20: October. Feedback is always appreciated. Enjoy!

X

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“Come on, Sam!” you cried, pulling on his arm again. Sam let out a groan in response, but you ignored him and tugged harder. He didn’t budge from the bed, however, and finally you decided that you’d have to convince him to leave the bunker some other way.

Sighing, you plopped down on the side of the bed and wiggled your fingers underneath his prone form. It took you a minute, but you finally found what you were searching for—the bare strip of skin just below Sam’s navel. You couldn’t hold back your grin when Sam jerked away from you with a loud yelp.

“Jesus, Y/N! Your fingers are freezing!” he exclaimed as he scooted away from you and pulled the blankets over himself so he was better protected from you.

You laughed as he turned onto his back and adjusted the covers, and then you reached for him again. This time, however, Sam was ready for you, and he quickly grabbed your wrists, effectively keeping you from touching him.

“Oh good, you’re up,” you grinned, ignoring the annoyed look he shot you as he dropped your wrists. “Now we can go for that walk you promised me!”

“Y/N,” Sam sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “I know that I normally get up early, but I was hoping we could sleep in a little today. We just got back from three back-to-back hunts…”

“I know…” you replied. Now that he was truly awake, you could see that Sam even looked exhausted, which was rare for him. After a moment, you scooted closer to him and laid down. “I guess we can put it off a little longer.”

Sam used one arm to tuck you against him. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, and you felt him smile as he did so. Unable to resist smiling in return, you simply closed your eyes and let the warmth from Sam’s body soak into your own.

“Have I ever told you that I love you?” he whispered.

“Not today you haven’t,” you murmured in reply, smiling wider when Sam draped his arm over your waist and laced his fingers with your own.

“I do,” Sam said. “More than anything.”

You hesitated to reply, biting the inside of your cheek so you could keep yourself from blurting out something without thinking. After a second, you let yourself ask, “Do you love me more than sleeping in?”

Sam was silent for a long moment before he finally let go of your hand. “Alright, let’s go.”

Grinning, you leaped out of the bed and began to get dressed. Sam was slower in getting to his feet, but that didn’t in any way diminish your excitement. He headed into the bathroom while you were searching the closet for your favorite of his flannels.

You were dressed and about to burst from the anticipation by the time Sam finally emerged from the bathroom.

“Whoa, are you okay, Y/N?” he asked, his pink lips hinting at his trademark smirk.

You rolled your eyes in response and bounced on the balls of your feet as Sam pulled on his jacket. “Are you ready yet?”

Sam finished zipping up his coat with an amused shake of his head, then pressed a kiss to the top of your head before tugging open the bedroom door.

You grinned wide and raced out into the hall the second it was fully open, making sure to grab Sam’s hand on the way out so you could pull him behind you. “Come on, Sam! You’re going too slow!” you cried, grinning wider when you heard Sam laugh again in response.

“I’m going just as fast as you are, Y/N!” he told you as you rounded the corner and pulled him into the library.

Dean was settled in at the first table with his headphones on as he watched a show on Netflix that you’d gotten him into earlier that month. When you passed by he glanced up, but he didn’t say anything as you yanked Sam up the stairs and through the door that led to the staircase up to ground level. Pleased with Dean’s lack of response—you didn’t want to put off your work any more than you already had—you grinned wider with each step you took toward the outside bunker door.

Once outside, you came to a halt and breathed in deeply, letting your eyes close as the chilly October air filled your lungs. Sam didn’t pull his hand from yours quite yet, and you listened as he took in a deep breath as well. After a few more moments, you exhaled and opened your eyes, then looked over your shoulder to give Sam a smile.

“Are you happy now?” he asked, his lips curved up in a smile.

“Very,” you replied. “Which way should we go? You know the trails around here better than I do, considering you made all of them.”

Sam’s dimples deepened as he tried to hide the hint of pride your words brought up in him. Still smiling, he looked both ways before finally nodding toward your right. You squeezed his hand and started walking, keeping your pace slow until Sam fell into step beside you. The two of you didn’t let go of each other’s hands as you walked down the makeshift path he’d beaten in after years of running in the woods that surrounded the bunker, and you couldn’t help but be in awe of the fiery orange leaves that created a canopy over you.

“It’s beautiful,” you murmured as you tilted your head back to see everything better.

“It is, yeah.”

“I wish every season was like fall.”

“If every season was like fall, we wouldn’t be able to go on walks in the snow or go to the beach when we have free days in the summer,” Sam told you, his voice soft, as if he didn’t want to disturb the solemn quiet of the trees. “But, if every day being like fall made you happy, I think I could do without those things.”

Smiling, you glanced over at him. “Really?”

Sam nodded. “Really. Now come on, let’s keep walking. There’s a hill up here with a good view,” he said. He began to walk again, leading you up a short incline.

You gasped when you saw what he was talking about. Before you stood hundreds of trees, each one varying in shades of oranges, reds, greens, and browns. They stretched covered a mile of land at least, then transitioned into a field of golden corn stalks that would no doubt be soon turned into corn mazes if they already hadn’t been.

“How did you find this?” you asked, your voice so filled with awe that it was almost inaudible. Slipping your hand out of Sam’s, you tread further up the hill until you were standing on the precipice. Sam followed you and wrapped his arms around your waist from behind so that your back was pressed against the front of his body.

“On accident,” he replied as he looked at the landscape from over the top of your head. “I took a detour on a run because my usual route was blocked with snow and I ended up here. I’ve been planning to bring you up here for a while, but things always came up and I couldn’t until now.”

“Well, I love it,” you said, turning in Sam’s arms. “It’s beautiful and we need to come here more often.”

“Deal,” Sam smiled. He leaned down to give you a kiss when you pulled away, frowning and looking off to the side. “What’s wrong?”

“I thought I…” You trailed off and held up a hand for Sam to be quiet, then slipped out of his grasp and ventured closer to the bushes on your right.

After a long moment, a tiny whimper came from underneath the changing leaves.

“I think there’s a dog or something under here, Sam!” you cried, getting down on your hands and knees so you could peer past the foliage. Once you got closer to the ground, you reached inside and pulled out the tiny brown puppy that had been hiding in the bush.

Sam crouched down beside you and met your eyes when you looked up at him. “He’s so small, Sam. We can’t leave him here,” you murmured.

The puppy was shaking in your arms and you quickly pressed him against you, then wrapped your jacket around him as best as you could. It let out another whimper, causing you to look down at him. The moment you met its chocolate-brown eyes you knew you were a goner, and you couldn’t help but bite down on your lower lip as tears welled up in your own eyes.

“Sam, he’s got no home… We have to take him back to the bunker with us.”

“Dean won’t like it, Y/N…”

“So what? He doesn’t like a lot of things, but this little guy’s so sweet! How can Dean not like him? I mean, look at him; he’s terrified and he needs love!” you pleaded. “He has no home and he’ll be really good, I promise. Besides, I know you’ve always wanted a dog!”

After a few seconds, Sam relented. “Alright,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair. He got to his feet and held out a hand so you could stand easier.

“I’m gonna name him October,” you grinned as you scratched between the puppy’s tiny ears. It snuggled happily against you, even though it was still shivering from fear and cold.

“October?” Sam asked. He started walking back the way you had come and you followed close behind, alternating between watching where you were stepping and making sure the puppy in your arms was still doing alright.

“Yeah! It’s an important month for us now. I mean, October is when he found us.”

“Don’t you mean when we found him?”

“Nope,” you replied, meeting Sam’s eyes when he turned his head slightly to glance back at you, “I meant what I said. October found us because he knew that we’d take good care of him. Didn’t you, October?”

October yipped and you could feel his little tail begin to wag underneath the heavy fabric of your coat. You grinned at that and hurried your pace so you could get back to the bunker quicker.

“We’ll need to give him a bath, plus get food and a bed,” Sam said as the two of you neared the bunker’s entrance.

“He already has a bed,” you replied. “He’ll sleep with us. Won’t you, little guy? You’re gonna sleep with us, aren’t you?”

October’s tongue peeked out of his mouth for a brief moment as he yawned, and you suddenly found yourself smiling from ear to ear while you waited for him to stick it out again. Sam’s deep laugh caught your attention and you looked up to find him watching you with an amused expression on his face.

“You really like that dog, don’t you?” he asked. You nodded in response. “Well then, I guess I better be thinking of more reasons for why we should have a dog, considering all my old ones didn’t work on Dean.”

Grinning, you pushed yourself up on your tiptoes to press a kiss to Sam’s cheek. “Thank you!” you squealed, causing him to laugh once more. “Say hi to your new daddy, October!” You lifted the puppy up to Sam’s face, then laughed when it sniffed him and tried to chew on his hair.

Much to your relief, Sam laughed as well. He carefully took October from your hands and cradled him close. Almost immediately October’s eyes fell closed, and he let out a big yawn as he snuggled closer to Sam’s chest.

“I think he likes you,” you told Sam, smiling wide.

“Good, because I like him too.” Sam paused for a moment. “But if he pees in our bed, you’re the one who’s cleaning it up.”

_______________

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[thelastspeecher]

NaNoWriMo ‘17 Day 2 - A “Temporary” Exhibit

Day 01   Day 02   Day 03   Day 04   Day 05   Day 06   Day 07   Day 08 Day 09   Day 10   Day 11   Day 12   Day 13   Day 14   Day 15   Day 16 Day 17   Day 18   Day 19   Day 20   Day 21   Day 22   Day 23   Day 24 Day 25   Day 26   Day 27   Day 28   Day 29   Day 30

Summary: Stan and Angie agree to be part of a temporary exhibit at the San Diego Zoo, but something prevents Fiddleford and Stanford from picking them up before mating season starts.  [Phoenix Enchantment AU] Word count: 1754

               Ford parked the car directly in front of the zoo entrance.

               “Stanford, ya can’t do that,” Fiddleford scolded.

               “That’s what they told us to do,” Ford said.  “That way Stan and Angie don’t have to be carried across the parking lot.”  He looked at the phoenixes sitting in the back seat.  “By the way, you two need to get into the cage now.”  Stan hissed.  “This is what you agreed upon.”  Fiddleford turned around in his seat, to also look at the phoenixes.

               “But if ya don’t want to do this no more, ya don’t have to.  We can call it off, say ya came down with somethin’.” Stan looked at Angie.  She shook her head.  “Yer sure ‘bout this?”  Stan and Angie nodded.  “Okay. That means ya have to get into the cage.”  Angie reluctantly stepped inside the animal carrier, closely followed by Stan.  

               “Hey, sir!  You can’t park here!” a zoo employee shouted, walking over to Ford’s car.  Ford got out.

               “It’s fine.  I’m here to drop off some animals for an exhibit?  I’m Dr. Stanford Pines.”

               “Oh, Dr. Pines.”  The employee peered into the car and saw Stan and Angie huddled in the animal carrier. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

               “Good.”  Fiddleford got out of the car and opened the door to the back seat.  He whispered reassuringly to Stan and Angie as he removed the carrier.  “You ready, Fiddleford?”

               “Yessir.”

               “All right, gents, follow me,” the employee said.  

----- 

               Angie skittered across the floor of the animal carrier, accidentally bumping into Stan.

               “Sorry,” she cooed.  

               “It’s fine,” Stan said.  “Fiddleford isn’t being as careful as he could.”  Stan rolled his eyes.  “Would it kill him to keep the damn crate level?”

               “What sort of accommodations do you have for them?” Ford asked the zoo employee.  Angie and Stan stopped talking to listen intently.

               “Their own enclosure, naturally.  Some minor foliage, plenty of materials to build a nest.”  Stan scratched the side of the carrier.

               “Ask about privacy,” he chirped. As though he understood, Fiddleford cleared his throat.

               “And what sort of private areas will they have access to?” Fiddleford asked.

               “The back of their enclosure is all private.”

               “Will they have freedom to move back and forth between the two areas?”

               “During the initial adjustment period, absolutely.  Once they’ve gotten used to the zoo environment, we will try to encourage them to spend more time out in the open.  They are going to be stars, after all.”

               “Better than I thought,” Stan said softly.  Angie let out a small sigh.

               “I’m just glad our babies are on the farm right now.”

               “Like Fidds and Ford would make kids be on display at a zoo,” Stan said with a scoff.  

               “Fair enough.”

               “Of course, if you extend the contract, allowing them to stay through mating season and potentially laying season, we will increase privacy,” the employee continued.  Stan and Angie froze.

               “That won’t happen,” Ford said immediately.

               “There’s no way we can convince you?  We’d love to be able to observe the steps of the reproductive cycle ourselves.”

               “They’ll come back home ‘fore matin’ season starts,” Fiddleford said firmly. “They won’t like bein’ separated from their chicks fer too long, anyways.”

               “And you won’t bend on the chicks, either?” the employee asked. “We’d be happy to house Pinatubo, Pavonis, and Pyre.”

               “They have other accommodations while Pele and Prometheus are here,” Fiddleford said.  “The zoo is goin’ to be stressful enough fer the adult phoenixes.  We don’t want to subject the lil ones to it, too.”

               “All right,” the employee sighed.  “We were hoping that you would consider our offers, but they are effectively your property.”  Stan and Angie let out a synchronous screech.

               “They don’t seem to agree with that,” Fiddleford said with a small chuckle.

               “Ah!  Here we are.” The bumping of the carrier stopped as it was placed upon a flat surface.  “Mind letting them out?  I’d love to get a good look at them.”

               “You’ll have ample opportunity to,” Ford replied.  “But we need to allow them to acclimate around familiar faces as much as possible anyways.”  Fiddleford opened the door to the carrier.  Stan took a cautious step outside.

               “My goodness!” the employee breathed.  “He’s magnificent.”  Stan puffed out his chest proudly.

               “During mating season, he grows a train of tail feathers like a peacock,” Ford said.  “It’s quite something.”

               “I do wish we would be able to see that.”

               “He’s already growing a few, since mating season will be in about a month and a half,” Ford pointed out.  

               “Where’s the female?”

               “She’s a bit more shy,” Fiddleford said.  

               “Angie, they set us up in some sweet digs,” Stan crowed.  “Come check it out.”

               “I’ll just stay in here,” Angie croaked.  “I got a bad feelin’.”

               “Should I reach in and grab her?” the employee suggested.  

               “Oh, no,” Ford said quickly.  “Not if you want all your fingers intact.  Fiddleford?”

               “Yep.”  Fiddleford placed a peach slice in front of the carrier.

               “That’s demeanin’, Fidds,” Angie hissed.

               “Pele, come on, get yer treat,” Fiddleford cajoled.  “It’ll be easier if ya walk out on yer own.”  Angie squawked.  Fiddleford placed a second peach slice next to the first.

               “Fine,” Angie muttered.  She walked out of the carrier and daintily picked up one of the peach slices.  

               “Wow, she’s a fine specimen as well,” the employee commented.  “Not as glamorous as her mate, but still, she’s something.”  The employee crouched down to look Angie in the eyes.  “Hello, Pele.”  Angie dropped the peach slice.

               Good Lord.  Is that Clark?  Of course one of my former coworkers ‘ll be takin’ care of me.

----- 

               Angie hummed a few bars of an old family song as she carefully preened Emmett.  Emmett blinked his tawny eyes languidly a few times and let out a tiny chirp.  

               “I admit, Pele, I’m going to miss your lovely voice,” Clark said. Angie looked up, startled.  “Your songs are very soothing.”  Stan, who was perched on Clark’s shoulder, took off and landed in the nest next to Angie and Emmett.  

               “They’re here, babe,” Stan cawed. Angie’s eyes widened.

               “Really?”

               “Yup!  It’s about time.”  Stan bent over and nuzzled Emmett’s head.  “Hear that, kiddo?  We’re finally gonna go home!”

               “You’ll get to meet yer sisters,” Angie crooned.  “They’ll be so happy to see ya.”

               “I apologize again, for requesting the phoenixes stay longer than we originally planned,” Ford said, walking into the enclosure, Fiddleford close behind with an animal carrier.

               “It was no trouble!  Pele and Prometheus were the stars of the show.  Visitors loved them, and they were model in terms of behavior.”

               “Really?” Ford asked.

               “Wow.  Do ya really have to be surprised about it?” Stan squawked.  

               “Yes, they were.  Well, apart from when Pele first started brooding, that is.”

               “Brooding?” Fiddleford asked.

               “Yes, she and Prometheus were very insistent on staying put, when Percival’s egg was first laid.”

               “Percival?  Who’s Percival?” Ford asked.  Clark looked at him.

               “Did you not get the correspondence from us?  Mating season happened while you were gone.”

               “Oh, geez, that’s right,” Fiddleford breathed.  

               “Pele laid Percival’s egg April 23rd.  We were concerned at first, since the egg was malformed.”

               “Malformed?” Ford and Fiddleford asked together.

               “Yes.  A light gray as opposed to dark black, and smaller than your research indicated phoenix eggs are.”

               “Oh, dear,” Fiddleford muttered.  

               “But Percival hatched on June 23rd, right on schedule.  He was rather weak upon hatching, and still isn’t as hardy as he should be, but we’ve been keeping a close eye on him, making sure Pele and Prometheus don’t lose their first male chick.”

               “Was that ever a risk?” Ford asked abruptly.

               “When he was about three days old, he caught a nasty chill, and we had to move him somewhere for his own well-being.  Naturally, Pele came with, and the combination of her excellent mothering skills and our own talented veterinarians ensured that little Percy pulled through.”

               “He’s got some health issues, ‘cause his egg was malformed?” Fiddleford said. Clark nodded.

               “Yes.  We think he’ll grow out of them, though.  He’s made it through the most difficult part now, so it should be smooth sailing from now on.”

               “Did you change Pele’s diet?” Ford asked.

               “No.  Our head ornithologist believes that Percival’s egg was malformed due to stress.  Both Pele and Prometheus became incredibly stressed after mating season ended, and they started nesting.  Our head ornithologist thinks that they were stressed due to being forced to nest in a place they didn’t normally live in.”

               “That makes sense,” Ford said softly.  He glanced over at Stan and Angie.  “Thank you, for taking such good care of them.  We’ll let you know how Percival turns out.”

               “Actually, since he hatched in the zoo, we were wondering if-” Clark started.

               “No,” Fiddleford and Ford said immediately.

               “Percy stays with his fam’ly,” Fiddleford said.  Clark sighed.

               “I thought it was a long shot.”  Clark looked over at Stan and Angie.  “Maybe they can visit again some time.”

               “Maybe,” Ford said.  Stan let out a screech.  “Or maybe not.”

----- 

               “Tate, move so’s the phoenixes have space,” Fiddleford said, opening the backseat door.  Tate sighed and moved over.  Fiddleford placed the animal carrier on the seat next to his son.  Tate peered into the carrier.

               “Oh, yeah, Uncle Harper said Pele and Prometheus had another chick while they stayed at the zoo.”

               “Yes.  Their first male chick,” Ford said, getting into the driver’s seat.  “And the zoo named him Percival, of all things.”

               “That’s way better than…what did you plan on for the next one?  Poike?”

               “We’ll have to agree to disagree,” Ford muttered.

               “Sorry ya ended up stuck with yer uncle fer so long,” Fiddleford said. Tate shrugged.

               “It was all right.  But why were you gone?” Tate asked.  Angie let out a squawk.  “Pele wants to know, too.”

               “Something came up with our research,” Ford said.  “I made the mistake of deciding to examine the Manotaurs, and agreed to participate in their ‘man trials’.”

               “Wait, it was something you could’ve backed out of?” Tate said.

               “If I had, I wouldn’t have gotten such excellent research,” Ford protested.  Tate slumped back against his seat.

               “That’s cruddy.”

               “You stranded us at a damn zoo for months for that?!” Stan screeched.

               “Prometheus agrees,” Tate said.  Ford sighed and started the car.

               “I can tell.”

               “You owe all of us treats.”

               “So, ice cream for the birds, and crickets for you?” Ford asked jokingly. Tate frowned at him.  “…When we get to Gravity Falls, we’ll stop by the store.”

[xxbyimm]

Enya’s Unexpected Journey - Chapter 9

For all other chapters, click the number: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8

Chapter 9

Summary:  Enya evolves into a professional burglar by stealing some booze and while doing so, she enjoys the sight of one particular naked dwarf. A real professional burglar would not get caught into the act though. And a real professional would never (EVER) let herself get distracted by that particular dwarf, wouldn't she?

Although the dwarves were quite suspicious towards the elves, Enya believed they were gentle souls who meant them no harm. She even liked the salads and "green stuff" (as the dwarves put it) they had gotten for dinner this evening. She chuckled. Her human upbringing made her definitely more open minded. Enya sighed as she laid on her back in the grass. She stared at the stars. Everyone had abandoned her. All the dwarves had sneaked off to god know where. Kíli had screamed at her that she was not allowed to follow, which only made it more very likely that she would sneak up to them later on the evening.

Enya frowned. Even Bilbo had trailed off, probably to investigate Rivendell without her, Enya mused. Although she was a little offended he did not ask her to come along, she also understood he needed some time alone. Being in the company of thirteen (well technically thirteen and a half or fourteen) dwarves was exhausting. They definitely were a merry couple (as Gandalf put it), but the unspoken rules were sometimes hard to follow. Or to accept. Enya rolled on her stomach and stared at the bridge where Gandalf and lord Elrond walked half an hour ago. She had wanted to walk with them, but then suddenly assumed they probably had some important matters to talk about, so she had not dared to disturb them. Enya let out a long sigh again and stood up. She had done her medidation routine and practised her skills. She even tried to bend the water in the little fountain that stood on the edge of their camp to her will, but so far she had not succeeded. In human language: she was bored. Enya looked around and decided to scout the place herself. If no one wanted her company... well. Then she had to entertain herself. She lazily followed the path in the opposite direction in whence they had entered the valley. Coincidentally, the way in which the dwarves had disappeared. Enya giggled. She might even run into a particular grumpy dwarf prince. And on such a beautiful evening, he had to be in a good mood...

The path led her further into the valley. Enya played with a lock of her hair and hummed a song. She had no idea where she was going, but she assumed she could not get lost in this place. At least, she hoped she couldn't. Enya followed the path and let her mind wandering. God, she was completely smitten. Since the moment she ended up in middle earth, all she did was admiring Thorin, gazing at Thorin or dreaming about him when he was not around. If she could do all the stuff she day-dreamed about... ha! She would not allow him to stop making love to her. She wanted him all night. Slowly. Oh yes. 'Making love? All night?' Her mind mused. 'Darling, even if he wanted just a quick bang you wouldn't have the guts to say no to him!' Enya sighed. It had to stop. Her mind was painstakingly right. If she ever wanted to be taken seriously, she had to get her shit together. She had to stop being in love with that stubborn beautiful breathtaking bastard and focus on the road that lay ahead.

'Stop being in love? Yes! That's what you also told yourself all those years ago when you met Jaaaason!' Her mind teased her. Enya groaned. She was an hopeless case. Every time she gave her heart to a man, it went terribly wrong. They always deceived her. Wronged her. Enya frowned. Maybe she was destined to be alone. To live a solitary life as a witch. Maybe grandma Gigi was wrong and Thorin would never yearn for her. And never did anyway. Enya whimpered. She did not want to think about that. Her mind wasn't ready for that. But what if it was true? Enya stared at her feet and concluded she had trailed off the path. She sighed. Great. She even had the ability of getting lost in a valley where you practically couldn't! She angrily paced back (well... she believed she was going back) through the forest. She had to be back before the dwarves would start to miss her. The idea of having to admit she got lost in the valley, stung. No. She had to get out of here. And fast.

Enya was relieved when she discovered the path again, but got immediately distracted as she heard shouting in the distance. She quickly hid in the bushes and peeked to the other side.

The first thing what she saw, were naked butts. Thirteen to be precise. Enya smiled mischievously when she discovered one butt in particular. Oh, it was exactly as she expected (and imagined) it to be! Perfectly round, but yet still tight as it should be. She crawled on her belly and let out a sigh while she admired the spectacle. The dwarves chose an enormous white fountain to bathe in. It had multiple levels to sit or swim in, so it was perfect for some graceful diving. Or to squish your body into a ball and jump as fast as you can to make the water under you splash all over the place... The dwarves were having a good time, laughed and drank wine straight from the bottle. Hey, where did they get that? Enya wished she could join them. She blushed when Thorin Oakenshield turned around a little while he said something to Kíli. 'Oh yes, show me what you got!' Her mind was all over the place. Enya bit her lip when she got a glimpse of his torso. Oh, it was robust. The muscles were tight, like he had been working out in the gym every day. She literally could count them. Oh god Oh god Oh god It was perfect. He was perfect! If she could just... Enya groaned softly. There you had it. She couldn't. She had to tear herself from the magnificent sight of Thorin Oakenshield naked, and get back to bed. She wanted to crawl away, but then decided she could take a bottle of wine in bed. If a glass of wine could shut up her mind, that would be nice. And otherwise she would just fall in a dreamless sleep. A sleep where a certain dwarf lord could not follow her. Enya put her hand on the grass and shot an icicle trail to the fountain. It grew silently like a branch and stretched under the bottle. Enya let the trail thicken in a subtle manner, making a slight slope. She had to be very patient. The bottle did not move. Damn! Enya concentrated and made the slope somewhat steeper, until she saw the bottle moving. With a soft rush it glided towards her. Oh yes, she was a professional. She was a professional burglar. She did an excellent- wait! She groaned when the bottle all of a sudden fell over with a loud thumb. She could not reach it, just yet. It was a few paces away from the foliage, maybe she could...

'Hey! Who is stealing our booze?' One of the dwarves shouted. Enya could not see which one it was. Eh- how could she get herself out of this situation and save her dignity? Enya let out a deep sigh. They must have seen the ice trail. They knew it was her. There was only one option. She stood up, left her safe hiding spot and walked to the bottle. Without looking at the naked dwarves, she picked it up. She could hear the commotion as they hid themselves in the water. 'WE TOLD YOU, YOU COULD NOT FOLLOW US!' Fíli screamed. Enya shrugged and decided to play innocent. 'I know. But the bottle called to me. It seems it wants to spend the night with me, and I could not resist it' She winked and bit her lip when she realized what did she just said. She hoped none of the dwarves understood the REAL meaning of the words she just blurted out. Everybody just stared at her. 'Cheers' she purred, slowly turned around and disappeared in the forest. Wow! Enya burst into laughter and started to run as fast as she could. She misbehaved terribly, but she had booze! To hell with her beauty sleep. Enya wanted to lay in some cool water herself and forget about her problems. She grinned. It sounded like a plan!

Enya had found a quiet spot to bathe in. She sat in the cool water and sighed. Her head became a bit fuzzy from the wine, a feeling she welcomed. She had no intention of getting drunk, but boy, elves liked to make their wine strong! It took her not long before she was a bit tipsy. All right, really tipsy.

All was fine, until she saw Thorin Oakenshield appearing from the forest. 'Oh no.' She muttered. 'What are YOU doing here?' She assumed he didn't hear her, but he looked at her, clearly amused. 'I am retrieving what you stole from us' he said. Enya grabbed the bottle of wine before he could reach it and held it close to her chest. 'No you are not! This bottle is my companion tonight.' 'So you said' he mused. Yes. Enya blushed. She did not want to talk to him, but yet she did. The wine loosened her tongue and she found herself in a situation where she wanted to yell at him that she yearned for him far more than this stupid bottle. She shrugged. No. She could not share that. She could talk about ANTYTHING, except that. 'I recently learned that when you find stuff laying around, it isn't stealing.' Thorin grinned. 'Is that so?' Enya nodded. 'And now it's mine.' 'Technically it was mine, before your ice slope stole it away, right under my nose.' He stated. Enya beamed. 'Well, that would make me an excellent burglar then!' 'But excellent burglars don't get caught.' Thorin said. 'Which makes you... well. Let's say a voyeur with burglar ambitions?' WAIT! Was he teasing her? Enya bit her lip and tried not to giggle. She really needed to stop giggling when he was around her. 'I was NOT spying on you!' She said, but she knew he knew better than that. 'I can assure you that my eyes were on the bottle only. I am an honorable lady.' She added. The way he looked at her, said it all. He was not buying her explanation. Oh lord. She felt her blood running up to her cheeks and tried to distract him. 'Sir Oakenshield, I suppose a lady needs her privacy when bathing.' He eyed her and she saw in his eyes an expression that almost made her explode. That was lust. A panties shredding lust. Oh yes, he was definitely flirting with her. Shit. Because of the wine she was more vulnerable than ever. Even more willing to do everything he wanted. 'Well?' She said, demanding an answer. Thorin sat down and treated her with an innocent smile. 'I figured you wanted to talk to someone, because the bottle won't talk back.' Hmm. Smart move, Oakenshield. 'Maybe. Maybe not.' She said and closed her eyes. All she had to do was breathe. Breathe and try not to lose her mind. 'Can I ask you why you are in such a good mood tonight?' Thorin chuckled. 'I don't know. Maybe I'm having a good time.' 'Hmm.' Enya turned an went to face him, but she made sure she was covered by the water. 'Why is it that I always find myself a victim of your anger?' 'Because you always seem to be capable of doing something inappropriate. Things I cannot allow.' Thorin mused. 'Inappropriate?' Enya asked. Thorin didn't answer that question. Instead he asked her one himself, one she did not expect and it made her head spin. 'Did you enjoy the view when you peeked at my naked body, miss?' 'Yes, it was quite amazing thank you' Enya said softly and she refused to look at him. 'So your eyes weren't entirely set on that bottle of wine then.' He said. Enya sighed. Damn, he bested her. And he knew it. She blamed the wine for being so careless. She saw him grinning victoriously in the corner of her eye. 'Stop it!' She hissed. 'Stop what?' Enya groaned softly. 'You are taking advantage of my current merry mood, aren't you?' 'I would never do such a thing.' Thorin said, but he had a hard time keeping his expression clear. 'No, you wouldn't' Enya smirked. 'But this moment is very convenient to pry some information from me I don't want to share.' 'And what kind of information would that be?' He asked, amused. Gah! Frustrating dwarf! 'What do you want to hear?' She teased. 'I want you to confirm my suspicions.' He explained. 'Do you have proof for these suspicions?' Enya bit her lip. 'A lot of proof.' He simply said. 'It is quite obvious, I would say.' Enya leaned over to the place he was sitting. 'So, if it is that obvious, why would you need confirmation anyway?' Thorin frowned. 'One has to be sure.' Enya swallowed hard. Where was this going? If it involved him touching and kissing her right on the spot, she would go with it. Happily. 'Well, ask me your questions then.' She said, her voice uneven. It took a while before she heard his low husky voice again. 'So. I always wanted to know if you are only half dwarf or if your blood is pure.'

Wow. That was totally unexpected. And unfair. Enya sobered up in a matter of seconds. She bit her lip and cursed herself for letting him deceive her like that. He ruthlessly played with her. What did he expect? That she would scream and jump on him, finally giving in to her needs? No. Enya shrugged and decided to play along again. And this time, she would not let herself lead astray. 'Well, before I provide you with an answer, you have to tell me your theory about it.' 'My theory...' Thorin eyed the bottle of wine. 'I don't really have a theory. You do have some human characteristics and sometimes behave like one. I believe you are a half blood.' Enya narrowed her eyes. That was the worst excuse she ever heard. It almost seemed like he wanted to ask her another question, but backed out. Maybe he wasn't ruthlessly toying around with her feelings after all. She decided to let it go. 'I honestly don't know. My mother is a dwarf, but I never knew my father. He died before I was born. I don't even know what he looked like.' 'I am sorry.' Thorin said and she heard the guilt in his voice. 'Oh, it's okay.' Enya said. She smiled as she gave back the bottle of wine. 'There you go. I only borrowed a little.' Thorin took the wine from her and made sure their fingers did not touch. He stood up. 'I will leave you be in peace, miss’ he muttered and he sounded like he regretted asking such a question.

Enya watched him turning around and realized she would not let him get away with that. No. Before he could set another step, she jumped out of the water, put on her jacket to cover herself and ran after him. 'NO!' She yelled. 'I've changed my mind about that wine!' He turned to her, his expression puzzled. Enya smiled, but before she could even grab the bottle out of his hands, she tripped over a tree root. Again. Enya prepared herself for an inelegant smack, but instead she heard a bottle falling. The next thing she knew, Thorin Oakenshield was holding her in his strong arms. Again. 'Are you doing this on purpose?' He whispered. Enya bit her lip. 'No, I have to admit I can be incredibly clumsy.' Thorin frowned and breathed heavily. Enya blushed when she realized she, yet again, wore next to nothing in his presence. And this time, it was even worse. Her jacket had peeped open and although it was covering the most important parts, Thorin could see a large part of her skin- from her neck to her abdomen. Her belly button piercing was on display as well. She only could hope he liked what he saw. Thorin's chest was heaving up and down and he refused to look her in the eye. There was a deep red blush on his cheeks. He didn't say a thing and held on to her tight. Enya noticed his hands trembled a bit. Oh, she wanted to kiss him. 'You. Need. To. Get. Dressed.' He hissed slowly. 'Now.' He lowered her down and let her go when he was sure she was on her feet again. Enya smiled innocently. 'It seems I cannot win your mind games, sir Oakenshield. But I do seem have the power to silence you.' Thorin narrowed his eyes. 'Get. Dressed.' Enya sighed. 'Yes' She walked back to the water and turned around. He was still there. 'No peeking.' She teased. She could see his mouth curve into a hesitant smile. It was tiny, but it was there. 'I am not like you, miss. I am not sneaking around and watch innocent naked dwarf men bathe.' 'You don't? Well, if I embarrassed you in that way, maybe I should return the favor, then.' Enya knew it was a risk, but she had to do it. She turned her back to him and threw her jacket away in a dramatic, glorious manner. Thorin made a loud gasp and Enya enjoyed the moment. She had his attention. She slowly put on her panties (she thanked herself for putting on the most sexy one she owned when she left her house that particular morning) followed by her shirt. In a subtle manner she let her pants glide over her butt. She put on her corset and wanted to tie it up herself, but she shivered when he suddenly appeared to be right behind her.

'You. Are. Reckless.' He groaned as he tied her up with aggressive movements. Oh, he was mad again. 'That's what you do to me.' She whispered softly. 'You make it very hard to contain myself. It is unfair.' 'So you are telling me you are not THAT bold on a daily basis then?' Hissed Thorin as he made a tight knot at the bottom of her corset. Enya turned around and faced him. She looked directly in his beautiful fierce blue eyes, her mouth inches away from his. 'No, I am absolutely not.' Enya decided to be honest. 'But when you are around, I seem to lose my mind. And my manners.' He swallowed hard and she saw he tried to contain himself. She waited a few seconds and then decided to walk away. After basically confessing she was in love with him, she found it better to walk away from him than the other way around. She smiled and dragged herself away from him. She wanted to walk back to the path when suddenly...

WHOA!

Thorin caught up with her and pushed her roughly against a tree. His lips were dangerously close. Enya could not breathe and stared into his eyes. Oh, she could drown in them. 'Miss Enya...' he whispered softly. 'You make me so mad. You... I...' he did not finish his sentence, but cupped her face with his hands.

Then he kissed her. Enya was set ablaze. His hot mouth was on hers and his hands played with her hair. Enya enjoyed the taste of his mouth and eagerly kissed back. She opened her lips to welcome his tongue and forgot everything around her when his tongue stroked hers for the first time. He teased her, explored her mouth greedily. Neither of them pulled back. Instinctively, Enya crossed her legs around him without ever part her lips from his. Her arms were around his neck. Thorin groaned and deepened the kiss again. Through all their clothes, Enya felt his erection pushing against her body. Yes, now she knew for certain he wanted her as much as she wanted him!

Enya moaned as he teared himself away from her. 'I cannot...' Thorin panted. He was furious. She was furious. If their lips touched again, Enya knew she would lose it. She would tear off his clothes and demand him to make her his. First rough, then slowly. And then rough again. Until she was worn out. 'This will not happen again.' Thorin said in a gruff manner. He took a step back, making the distance between them safe again. 'I have a quest to fulfill. I don't have time for this.' Thorin said and he squared his jaw. 'You HAVE to behave.' 'Me?' 'YES, YOU!' Thorin roared and paced away, leaving Enya leaning back against the tree, astonished.

Her body was still shaking from all the adrenaline and Enya sighed. At least she knew now he desired her, but she wanted him to make love to her. And she would not stop until he would give in.