#i would cut on my chest but im afraid my blade is too sharp and ill cut wayy too deep on accident

[ennuidays]

aaaaa i wanna cut i ran outta room on my legs n unles i keep going down past my shorts line i cant ... and its getting warmer ..

[takahero]

in honour of finishing inkspell, here are some basta observations I picked up along the way. also, inkspell spoilers warning! i also have MANY MANY thoughts so i’d love to hear what you guys think to some of the questions raised

“He hadn’t changed: the same thin face, the same way of narrowing his eyes, and there was an amulet dangling around his neck to ward off the bad luck that Basta thought lurked under every ladder, behind every bush.” — pg.138

“Basta’s left hand was bandaged, Elinor noticed when he took his fingers away from her mouth.” — pg.139

“‘I’d have been here much sooner, believe you me, but they put me in jail for a while on account of something that happened years ago. No sooner was Capricorn gone than all the people who’d been too scared to open their mouths suddenly felt very brave.’” — pg.140 (see they never tell us WHY he was in prison, do they? the possibilities are endless. we know he committed atrocious things, like arson, but imagine if he got put in jail for something completely different…LOL)

“‘You wouldn’t believe how often I’ve told him there’s nothing to be ashamed of in going to jail, particularly when your prisons here are so much more comfortable than our dungeons at home.’” — pg.140 (OHHHTMGOD MEME IDEA)

“Basta flung his arm so roughly round Orpheus’ neck that his glasses slipped down his nose.” — pg.141

“‘Hold your tongue, Basta!’ Mortola interrupted him abruptly. ‘You’ve always liked the sound of your own voice.’” — pg.141

“‘Well, Silvertongue, I’m sorry it’s taken some time,’ he said in his soft, cat-like voice.” — pg.180

“‘My son always said revenge was a dish best eaten cold,’ observed Mortola.” — pg.181 (question. did basta find out about mortola’s true identity between inkheart & inkspell? do u think he realised it when mortola cried when capricorn died?)

“Basta passed a finger over his throat and winked at him.” — pg.186 (wink 2 LMAO)

“Basta bent down and picked up a rusty helmet lying at his feet. ‘What do you expect me to say?’ he growled, throwing the helmet back into the grass with a gloomy expression, and giving it a kick that sent it clattering against the wall. ‘Of course it’s our castle. Didn’t you see the figure of the goat on the wall there? Even the carved devils are still standing, though they wear ivy crowns now — and look, there’s one of the eyes that Slasher liked to paint on the stones.’” — pg.190

“‘So Basta was right after all. He’s dead, here and in the other world too.’” — pg.191 (interesting….so Basta knew Mortola’s plan wouldn’t work? he just wanted a ride home?)

“‘I’d really like to know what happened!’ he muttered. ‘I always said Capricorn wasn’t here, but what about the others?…What are we going to do if they’re all gone?’ Basta sounded like a boy afraid of the dark. ‘Do you want us to live in a cave like brownies until the wolves find us? Have you forgotten the wolves? And the Night-Mares, the fire-elves, all the other creatures crawling around the place…I for one haven’t forgotten them, but you would come back to this accursed spot where there are ghosts lurking behind every tree!’ He reached for the amulet dangling around his neck, but Mortola did not deign to look at him.

“‘Oh, be quiet!’ she said, so sharply that Basta flinched.” — pg.192

“‘You’re going to leave them here?’ That was Basta’s voice.” — pg.193 (at first I was like oh so he has a heart….but then he was mean to resa straight after this 🙄)

“‘Sorry, but he must have overlooked me, shut up in that cage as I was,’ purred Basta in his catlike voice.” — pg.377

“‘Wasn’t it Mortola who had you put in the cage to be fed to the Shadow?’ Basta just shrugged his shoulders and flung back his silver-grey cloak. Of course, he had his knife. A brand new one, it seemed, finer than any he’d ever had in the other world, and undoubtedly just as sharp.

“‘Yes, not very nice of her,’ he said as his fingers caressed the handle of the knife. ‘But she’s really sorry.’” — pg.377 (okay so it SOUNDS like he threatened/made some kind of bargain with his knife, but I strongly doubt that considering how afraid he seems of her?? i know he’s technically working for the adderhead but even by the end of the book, it seems he is far closer to mortola than adderhead. what is their relationship? or does he sincerely think she’s sorry/has deluded himself into believing such? UGH SO MANY QUESTIONS)

“Basta had always liked describing his own and other people’s abominable deeds in detail.” — pg.378

“‘But we’re not going to shoot you.’ Basta came a little closer to Fenoglio, his face as intent as that of a stalking cat.” — pg.378 …. living for all the cat references tbh

“‘He wants you to crawl on your belly to him, that’s what our noble lord and master likes. But never mind, he pays well!’” — pg.378 (yes basta all abt getting that bread LMAOOOO)

“He slowly drew the knife from his belt. Its blade was long and slightly curved.” — pg.379

“‘Hey Basta, I know you like the sound of your own voice.’” — pg.379 (AHAHAHAHA HOW MANY PEOPLE HAVE CALLED OUT BASTA ON THIS NOW? IVE LOST TRACK)

“With a regretful sigh, Basta put the knife back in his belt. ‘Yes, very well, you’re right,’ he said in surly tones. ‘I need to take my time with this sort of thing. Questioning people is an art, a real art.’” — pg.380 (LMAOOOOOOO HE IS SUCH A DRAMA QUEEN)

“Basta. The same thin face, the same twisted smile. Only the clothes were different. Basta was no longer wearing his white shirt and black suit with the flower in his buttonhole. No, Basta now wore the Adderhead’s silvery grey, and he had a sword at his side. With a knife in his belt too, of course. But he was holding a dead chicken in his left hand.” — pg. 455

“‘Yes, they are!’ purred Basta. ‘The little witch, and the fire-eater into the bargain. It was well worth the wait. Even though I’ll probably never get that damned flour out of my lungs again.’” — pg.455 (ok….so who’s gonna draw basta sitting amongst the flour AAHHAHA)

“‘Servant? Who’s a servant here? Just listen to him. As bold as if he’d never felt my knife! Have you forgotten how you screamed when it cut your face?’” — pg.457 … don’t call basta a servant…..noted

“‘Oh, don’t look so disbelieving, little witch, I still can’t read and I don’t intend to learn, but there are enough fools around the place who can, even in this world.’” —pg. 457 (i wonder how much capricorn influenced basta’s views on reading. because capricorn said that he learnt how to read from a maid, right? so basta certainly wouldn’t have trash-talked reading in front of him. and even after living in OUR world for nine years, I’m still surprised that he never attempted to learn, given how dependent we are on it. anyway my headcanon is that he secretly wants to, but doesn’t want to give others the satisfaction of knowing they have something he doesn’t. also nobody he knows would be willing to teach him (unless he threatened them) bc of his obviously violent and short-tempered nature…and learning requires so much patience. still, though, would love a fic of basta being taught how to read in secret and having some kind of positive interaction)

“‘You’re even more talkative than you used to be, Basta.’ Dustfinger’s voice sounded as if he found this tedious.” — pg.458 HAHAHAHAHAHAHAAH IM DYING. honestly the animosity between them was just. A+++

“Basta was in an even worse state. He was sitting close to Mortola, his face so red and swollen that Meggie almost failed to recognise him. But he had escaped death once again. Perhaps the good-luck charms he always wore worked after all.” — pg.526

“The sunlight falling into the room made Basta’s face look like a boiled lobster.” — pg.575 

“Basta put his hand to the amulet hanging around his neck. It was not a rabbit’s paw, as he had worn in Capricorn’s service, but something that looked suspiciously like a human finger-bone.” — pg.581 (THIS STILL IRKS ME SO MUCH)

“The Piper straightened his back, as ready to attack as the viper on his master’s coat of arms…He was a good head taller than Basta.” — pg.582 WHY DO I KEEP FORGETTING HES NOT TALL LMFAO

“The two men were standing so close that the blade of Basta’s knife wouldn’t have fitted between them.” — pg.582 HAHAHAJAHAAJAHAHHAAHAHAHAH PKESJENE I LOVE THIS SO MUCH … IMAGINE BASTA SQUARING UP W HIS NOSE JUST SMACK BANG IN THE MIDDLE OF PIPER’S CHEST OR SOMETHING

“The Piper struck Basta in the face so hard that his head hit the door frame. Blood ran down his burned cheek in a trail of red. He wiped it away with the back of his hand. ‘Take care to avoid dark corridors, Piper!’ he whispered. ‘You don’t have a nose any more, but one can always find something else to cut off.’” — pg.582-583 THIS SCENE WAS SIMPLY……CHEF’S KISS

are you serious is he dead??? WHAT. okay I knew dustfinger’s love for farid would be the end of him and basta being the instrument to rip that away from him was totally heartrending. i WISH it had been more climactic? like dustfinger unleashing his fury and fighting basta, blind with anger and grief. THE DIALOGUE POTENTIAL BETWEEN THEM AS THEY FINALLY TALK ONE-ON-ONE, and then some revisiting of the scene where dustfinger has the opportunity to kill basta but AGAIN withholds because killing is not in his nature….THEN MO IN SHINING ARMOUR SWOOPS IN TO DO THE JOB

now, off to inkdeath!

[cottoncandyjester]

Hey guys im sorry I haven't been posting, honestly tumblr is making it hard to. every single story I write tumblr crashes then deletes it so it's been HIGHLY frustrating...guess I need to invest in a laptop or a better phone

Sorry this was so long I always want the boys' back stories to be only 2 parts

This story contains: death, torture, abuse, toxic relationships, murder, violent themes

"you're too soft! They are sinners theodore why are you being so damn sensitive"

Theo winced at the punch his father landed which caused him to stumble back his back hitting the table which held their latest victim, a young woman that theo cleaned up and dressed in his mother's clothes, he didn't like the sight of her all bloody and mangled it made his heart sting.

Theo never helped to Kill any of these women, only cleaned them up and made sure they looked beautiful in death it was his way if asking for forgiveness.

When he was ten he idolized his father but it's been two years since he caught his father and been training under him to take his place and all that love vanished he found himself feeling nothing but hate and disgust for his father, what made matters worse was the fact that his mother had to take half the brunt of his father's anger.

"I won't do this anymore, you're wrong. Women aren't devils, mother is an angel and I wont hurt her"

Theo's harsh remark earned him yet another punch in the face this one knocking him down as he spat out blood the metallic taste making him sick to his stomach.

"you're a damn fool boy, I'll make you see her filth"

With that his father left him in the attic to starve for the night which was always a common occurrence. As he laid back on the floor the boy let out a dry chuckle.

"Just a little more...then you'll be the one burning in hell father"

Theodore felt everything go black and it wasn't long until he had passed out soon waking back up in bed with his mother caring for his wounds. He could smell her sweet perfume and hear her soft humming, something about those things made his heart flutter in the purest of ways.

"you should be careful theo, you know making him angrier will only result in pain"

"it's okay, we'll leave together one day..just me and you.."

There was silence after that and for a while things were okay, the family was quiet during dinner and once it got late theo figured his father would have went to bed forgiving him for his outburst in the morning.

Theo woke to the sound of two metal objects clashing together, the sound was enough to stir him awake though when he tried to move he realized he was tied up against a chair. That clashing noise he heard was his father sharpening a few knives, the sight made theo's blood run Cold.

"f-father?"

"god told abraham to kill his son, and abraham was about to do it like a loyal sheep. God will make you do awful things theodore and as a man we must do them"

Theo frantically struggled against the ropes binding him only feeling more and more stressed as his father stepped closer and closer thing soft steps of his shoes making theo feel like he had to puke.

What's going to happen to me?

Am I going to die?

Theo felt his father press the tip of the blade pressed softly against his forehead on the left side of his face, the cool metal only brought theo to reality more, his father was going to kill him cause god said so.

"i-i know we are nothing alike but please-"

"we are absolutely nothing alike! You are exactly like your mother a sissy little housewife! You were never going to be a good man or husband! When I asked God for a son I thought he would send me one I could be proud of!"

Rage fuelled theo, he wasnt sure why but something about what his father said made him want to scream, his father was wrong... absolutely wrong.

"I'll be a perfect husband, and a better Father than you"

As soon as he said those words theo felt the sharp pain of his father pushing the blade into his skin earning a sharp inhale of breath trying not to show too much weakness. Theo kept thinking about his mother and how in a way he was protecting her, their goal were to run away safely together.

"we might have one thing in common theodore, you have a devil in you just like me..it's time to show you just how tainted you are"

With that theo felt a harsh intense pain as his father dragged his blade along the boy's face earning screams coming from him as he thrashed and tried kicking but his father pressed his knee onto the boy's legs now carving his skin off in such a slow and unbearable way that it was driving theo crazy

"accept your sins theodore! This is your punishment for being unloyal!"

Theodore couldn't stop screaming as the knife raked down his face roughly cutting a large chunk of his skin clean off, the pain was so great he was close to fainting but his father came prepared and injected him with an adrenaline shot.

"p-please f-father please please please..."

Theodore at this point didnt know what he was begging for, maybe death? The overwhelming taste and smell of his own blood was making him sick and not to mention there was a lot of blood pouring down his face.

I'm dying.. god has forsaken me

"may you be reborn as a perfect child next time"

Theo kept his head down but felt a soft kiss on his head before hearing footsteps walk away from him before the door to the attic closed, his father left him to die!

Theo swayed side to side hoping to get free, if he could just get to his father's desk and grab a knife though without his glasses seeing things far away was near impossible though he could see the shape of the desk.

"mother needs me, I can't die.."

Theo grunted in pain as he fell forward which wasn't his plan but he'll take it, with every fiber of his being he crawled and scooted along the ground towards the desk before seeing a knife handle over the edge of the desk. Thankfully his legs were tied just his arms so with some embarrassing attempts to stand of even kneel before turning around to grab the knife with his hand.

Before he could cut himself free he heard banging on the attic door before a crash, the sound was enough to startle him into cutting the palm of his hand and dropping the knife

"argh! I-it hurts!"

Soon the attic door opened and rushing towards him was his loving mother, her frantic questions and worrying about him made him feel far better especially when she untied him from the chair.

"I'm leaving tonight theo, my fiancee is waiting for me outside"

"t-then let's go mother! Now is the perfect time to go!"

There was a tense silence after that as theo felt his mother bandage his wound up, his mother was hiding something and he didn't like it.

"w-we have a little girl and he's very protective of her and well with how your face looks now you'll scare her and I don't want to bring any baggage from my pa-"

Theodore felt as if his head was spinning, what was she saying? He did everything for her he almost died for this woman and she saw him as baggage to toss away before going to her new family.

"y-you're going to leave me here? J-just like that?! I protected you from him! I made sure he never hurt you! Were you ever going to bring me with you?!"

"keep your voice down theo, please calm down you're scaring me-"

"I'm scaring you?! I'm the one scaring you?! How could you?! I'm your child! I love you!"

He watched his mother look down shamefully and slowly back away clearly afraid of what will her next words do to him. Theodore was feeling a little unstable at the moment, his own mother just betrayed him can he truly trust no one in his life?

"your eyes just...look just like him. I can't theo I'm so sorry I can't it's too painful for me.. you're too much like him"

That was the thing that broke theo all together, it was like his brain just snapped and no clear thought came just pure anger and pain. How could she think that?! Theo thought he was nothing like his father absolutely nothing!

"no! I'm nothing like him! Nothing! He's abusive and a horrible man how could you say that!? I thought you loved me but you're just like him-yeah you're like him not me! I'm pure! A good person"

Theo couldn't stop himself, before he knew it he had grabbed the knife he dropped earlier, the large blade held tightly in his hand and scaring the one person he thought he can trust.

"w-why do you want to leave me? You're just embarrassed of me..you don't want me around cause you hate me"

"no no no baby I love you I just-"

Theo swung the knife slashing his mother's arm, hearing her cry out in pain made him only smile as he gazed at her fearful expression. His sense of reason was vanished and all he wanted now was to show everyone how much they hurt him

"maybe if you were a better mother I wouldn't have gotten hurt all the time, maybe if you weren't too busy being a good wife instead of a good mother I wouldn't be in such pain!"

"t-theo please I just-"

"why couldn't I just have a normal family?! I prayed for one! So why!?"

Theo slashed at his mother again and again over and over sloppily slashing at her without caring about where he aimed. He was far more focused on releasing all this pain and betrayal he felt

"why doesn't anyone want me?! Why don't you want me! I want you so what's wrong with me?! Why am I so broken?!"

Theo ignored the sobs and begging for her to stop, they were not processing clear enough to him he just wanted to hurt them to hurt them in ways they hurt him. Her thrashing soon stopped but it wasnt enough for theo, he moved ontop of her now raising the blade and slamming it down inside her chest his eyes glossed over as he did so.

"I'm not like him, I'm nothing like him! I'll be a good father! A good husband! I'll never abandon my family! Never! Never ! Never!"

The knife slipped I his hand and when he tried to catch it he grazed his hand before hearing the knife clatter onto the ground, theo panted heavily before looking at his hands seeing hands were lightly bruised from gripping the knife so hard, he then looked down at his mother and her horror stuck face.

"look at what father did, I told you we should have left before...it's okay I'll protect you"

Theo reached out taking the scarf his mother wore before putting it on himself before pressing it to his nose and taking a deep inhale, the sweet scent gave him shivers.

The sight of his dead mother made the boy tear up but he honestly didn't realize he was the one who had did such a thing, it was something he refused to accept. Now gripping the knife he once had before he creeped down the attic stairs each step more and more anxiety fuelling, from the quiet sounds it seemed like his father was asleep.

Theo had never acted out so violently than when he saw his father sleeping soundly in bed, once again much like before he had completely snapped now walking over and plunging the knife deep into his father's side earning a painted grunt along with his father's eyes to snap open

This caused theo to panic and he did the first thing he could think of which was to bite his victim's ear using that time to shove the blade into his father's chest before biting his ear off and spitting it onto the ground in a feral snarling mess.

"t-there's your demon... y-you're just like me"

"I'm nothing like you! Nothing!"

Theo gripped the knife blade shoving it deeper til it became stuck and his father stopped breathing, what struck theo as odd was the lack of struggling..didn't his father want to live? That escaped his mind as he tried wiggling the blade out of the corpse only to whine lightly at how stuck it was

"heavy, too heavy"

Theodore decided his next plan was to change out of his bloody clothes except for his scarf of course and to turn on the gas stove as high it can possibly go, he used his bedroom window to escape since his mother's boytoy was still waiting for her outside.

One match, it took one match to burn the place down starting the fire in his bedroom and letting it spread. A few minutes after theo jumped out the window the house roared to live now completely on fire.

Theodore only 12 years old had killed his parents and burned the place down, he had no one else to turn to no family or anything so he turned to his local church. They sent him to a boarding school where he grew up and found a passion for medicine as well as helping others.

His dark past always haunted him, he was known as the boy whose family died horrible deaths. There were always rumors about what happened that night some say that his father killed everyone before burning the place and stabbing himself others think that his mother's lover killed them all in an angry rage. Theo would always just shrug and laugh it off thanking God that he's alive

Those dark desires of having a family only grew as he grew older, it became a twisted obsession that festered stronger and stronger by the time he was 18 he was already waiting for marriage..after all a good husband waits for the perfect bride.

"theo? Hey theo? Hello earth to theo?"

Theodore snapped awake only to see his sweet darling staring at him worriedly, he must have fallen asleep in his office again. Theo simply smiled as he stood from his chair

"what's wrong?"

"well, dinner's ready have a good dream or something?"

Theo chuckled softly before running his fingers through his hair trying to come up with a suitable answer

"just dreaming about the past my angel, though I should focus on the future with you after all the past is the past..."

[jincherie]

tentacledipity | five

➛pairing: jimin x reader ➛genre: alien au, space au, soulmate au, wanted au, smut (coming) ➛rating: sfw ➛words: 9k ➛warnings: ➛notes: completely forgot that i hadn’t posted it on here yet !!! sorry !!!  Im also sorry for the blue balls!! There will be relief eventually!! I was actually going to have some at the end of this chapter but uhhh plans change,,, although now i can say there is definitely some relief in the next chapter since that’s the scene i cut off the end of this one

This tale starts, as any good fiction does, with a girl crash landing on a foreign planet. And, like any good fiction, it follows a theme of serendipitous happening, and tentacles. Behold, serendipity and tentacles— or dare we call it…. tentacledipity.

— posted; 01.12.2019 // ↞ prev. || five || next ↠

“What are you doing?”

If anyone asked, you would tell them that you were the picture of grace as you got the absolute life scared out of you. The reality was, however, that you let out a sharp, squeaky scream wherein your voice broke and you pretty much tumbled like a mannequin with recently oiled joints out of the tree you’d been climbing before you were so rudely startled.

You weren’t far enough from the ground to break anything with your fall, but you were far enough that you were pretty sure you bruised your ass from the impact. A whimper escaped you at the sharp, deep ache in your gluteus maximus that resulted, and when you looked up to see the cause of your startle you almost shat yourself once more. Of course, you’d heard his voice and subconsciously known who it was the second he spoke, but seeing Jimin looming over you with an expression that was a cross between concerned and incredibly amused really made the belated realisation sink in. Another fright doing harm to your poor, weak heart. Your time on this planet was going to come to an end due to someone scaring you to death, one day.

Wait just a second…

By thinking that, did you just subconsciously presume you weren’t ever going to leave, or…? You reeled for a moment, an odd feeling coming to life inside you. That was extremely out of character for you, and you probably needed to see a doctor or something. Or maybe go annoy Yoongi so you could get some sense knocked back into you.

The soft sound that resulted from Jimin shifting his weight from foot to foot on the grass brought you back to the present moment and you let out a pained, sheepish laugh. Right, he asked you a question. What were you doing? You didn’t really remember, to be honest. Possibly a cause for concern, but who could blame you for a little momentary memory loss when faced with a being as fine as Jimin was? The answer was absolutely no one and you’d defend that to your grave.

“Uhh…” you floundered for an answer that wouldn’t make you look like a complete idiot, and came up empty. Well, humiliating truth it was. “To be honest? I just wanted to climb the tree. I wasn’t stealing the fruits, I promise.”

Jimin’s brow rose, marks flushing soft periwinkle. “These trees are in the more open sectors of the royal gardens, taking one of the fruits wouldn’t be stealing. Although…”

He wrinkled his nose, directing his gaze to the incriminating fruit that hung, bulbous and bright pink, from one of the upper-middle branches, looking thoroughly disgusted. “I wouldn’t recommend it, unless you enjoy being violently sick for several days. They are kind of poisonous, for kelkie and humans alike.”

You made a face at that, giving the fruit the stink eye for the audacity it had to almost trick you with its pretty, appealing outside. How dare it—pink means yummy, not poison! The nerve.

“Noted,” you said, gulping. A beat passed before you turned to the male suddenly, eyes narrowed as you recalled something. “Wait, how did you know I was there? And how did you get over here so fast? If you’re going to flash-step over here and scare the shit out of me, you could at least catch me. I mean, I wouldn’t complain.”

Jimin’s head tilted, full lips tugging. “Noted,” he remarked, clowning you unabashedly. “I’ll be sure to save you the fall and yank you from the tree myself next time.”

At that, you couldn’t help the sudden laugh that tore out of you—the sound of it made his lips twitch further. He waited for you to calm a little before he continued.

“And if you must know, I was going for a brief walk. You’re actually in my gardens right now, petal.”

You balked, a flush of embarrassment rushing to heat your cheeks. Oh. So that’s what that short wall you’d jumped over while exploring had meant. Huh. Perhaps you were a little stupid; then again, that knowledge wasn’t really anything new.

Prior to this, you’d been a little preoccupied with your throbbing ass, but now, as you sat and gazed up at the magnetic form that was Jimin, you were suddenly reminded of the conversation from the other day with Joy and other raunchy parties. Your gaze flicked to his sides on instinct before you caught yourself and tore it away, averting it to the foliage to be safe. If you stare at his back he’s going to know you know, dumbass!

“O-oh, am I? Whoops, my bad,” you tried to distract yourself with a too-soon attempt at climbing back to your feet. You wobbled, voice shooting up in alarm, “To be fair though there’s no way to know these are your gardens, like, where’s the sign? You should reall—YAH OH MY!”

When you wobbled again a second time, barely a split second away from toppling off your wobbly legs and back onto your throbbing behind, Jimin’s hand shot to grasp your wrist and in one fell swoop he yanked you from your tentative crouch to standing. In the process he, overestimating your level of resistance, ended up hauling you straight into his chest. He barely stumbled as you knocked into him, your arms shooting out to wrap around him on instinct. An embarrassing instinct in actuality, but certainly not one you were about to complain about.

A beat of silence passed while you caught up to the sudden turn of events before you pulled your head back from where it had been resting over his shoulder. Utilising the fact your arms had ended up looped around his waist, you tightened your hold around him and pressed your hands firmly against his spine. You felt the hitch of his breath against your chest. When you grew brave enough to allow your eyes to stray to his face, they caught his own—deep, dark pools of molten cocoa, pupils almost swallowing his iris’ whole, hypnotised you for a moment. Even meeting his gaze like this made your lungs constrict and your heart jump in unison with your stomach. Giddy, excited—a sudden sense of shyness tickled the back of your neck but it was far overpowered by the deep, instinctive urge to push him a little. You wanted to play.

When he said nothing, you allowed your lips to twitch into a big, dumb grin— a courteous moment’s warning for what you were about to do—and then you moved your hands to his shoulder blades before pressing your fingertips in and dragging them down either side of his spine. He went rigid, yet the muscles of his back still yielded to the teasing pressure of your fingertips. Further down his back, about mid way, you felt your fingertips catch on something even through the shirt and Jimin jerked, a low rumble sounding in the back of his throat as a shudder ran through the entirety of his body.

You didn’t get all the way down his back before you pulled away, heart racing a little too fast from the sudden intensity of his gaze as it burned into you, as a result of your teasing. You hadn’t noticed his grip earlier but now you were painfully aware of the firm hold he had on your waist, fingers gripping with just enough pressure that your stomach flipped like you were a mere schoolgirl back on Earth.

As steamy as the moment was turning out to be, it was broken by a very sudden, very sharp and very loud noise—

One that sounded suspiciously like a dog.

Jerking away from Jimin at the sound of a rough bark, in either fear or surprise you didn’t really know, you spun to face the source. You were instantly rooted to the spot in shock.

Holy shit, that was a massive dog.

Well, calling it a dog might have been a bit of an insult. Whatever it was, with whatever canine resemblance it had, it was absolutely beautiful and nothing short of majestic. Instantly, you were in absolute awe and standing in a state of reverence.

The beast was over five feet tall and gave Jimin a run for his money, his entire coat the deepest space blue you’d ever seen that bled into a plethora of deep rose and cerulean that seemed to change as the strands shifted in the wind. It was incredibly canine in its features, resembling something between a wolf or a fox from earth but much, much bigger—the angled face, the mischievous eyes that hid an underlying danger. Around its eyes and down its muzzle, the same peculiar rose-aquamarine blend painted beautiful, mesmerising markings.

Something shifted out of the corner of your eyes, and when your gaze followed it, it took you a moment to realise you were looking at not one, but two big fluffy tails. Contrary to the dog-like appearance of the beast, the tails swayed playfully and in a much more feline manner. It was as though it was trying to hypnotise you with the movement, and you were only saved from falling into the trap by the sound of another soft yap.

You squeaked, jumping in what you were sure was a mixture of fright and excitement this time—although, to be fair, the line between the two emotions was awfully thin these days.

“Oh my god,” you choked, sounding very much like you were going to cry and honestly? You might have been about to. “Puppy!”

At the sound of the pure joy in your voice, it was as though a switch had been flipped in the creature that, until then, had just been standing there, looking incredibly majestic and incredibly intimidating. As though it could sense that you weren’t afraid, it immediately dropped into a crouch, behind wiggling and tongue hanging out of its mouth, before it pounced forward and you met the ground once more.

This time, with Jimin in tow.

The beast was so massive that instead of only tackling you, it had managed to catch both you and Jimin in one go. The aforementioned male was now pressed to the ground next to you as the two of you received a barrage of sloppy licks from the creature in between excited yapping and melodic trill noises. You couldn’t help the delighted squeal that escaped your lips, your hands coming up to scratch and rub behind the creature’s large, triangular ears. They flicked and vibrated instantly at your motions, and the beast moved its attention solely to you. Meaning, you got a face full of alien dog tongue and spit.

“Meanie!” Jimin gasped, attempting to sit up and somehow managing despite the incredible weight of the beast. “Off, now, Meanie! #$%#$!”

Jimin rattled something else off in kelkoe and to your complete and utter surprise, the canine creature pulled back immediately and sat down on its haunches, tongue still lolling out of its elongated maw as its head flicked between the two of you and its tails lashed excitedly behind it. Somewhat dazed and a little upset at the lack of happy dog-creature within arms reach, you struggled into a sitting position yourself, unable to tear your eyes from the animal before you.

“What is that? He’s so beautiful…” you found yourself asking before you even realised, eyes wide. You heard Jimin make a surprised noise, and turned to see him looking at you strangely.

“You are not afraid?” he queried, head tilting like he couldn’t make sense of your reaction. You watched as his marks swirled through several different colours before settling on light, playful blue.

“No?” you replied, equally as confused at his reaction. “Why would I be? I love dogs!”

“Dogs…” Jimin mumbled to himself for a moment, eyes unfocused, before he let out a soft noise and turned to you.  “Are dogs creatures on Earth? Do you have Ina there too?”

“Ina?” you repeated, turning your gaze back to the animal who was, by the way, still waiting patiently in place like the best boy you had ever seen. “Is that what this creature is?”

Jimin nodded, and after surveying you a moment longer he rose to his feet, dusting off his (very shapely) behind as he did so. A smile tugged his lips as he looked over at the animal in question. “This is Meanie, my Ina.”

He then parted from your side to move over to the creature, wrapping an arm over his massive shoulders and reaching up to scratch behind his ear. Meanie’s hind leg began thumping against the ground in glee at the movement, head rolling to press affectionately against the side of Jimin’s own. You watched on in awe, fingers absolutely itching to join Jimin in giving this good boy the pets he deserved.

“Your Ina? He’s your pet?” you asked, watching the interaction and the softness of Jimin’s countenance with increasing fondness. Even so, a part of you felt oddly betrayed. You’d been here how long and hadn’t known there were giant dogs roaming about willy nilly? An absolute travesty!

Meanie’s head whipped from where it was laying against Jimin’s, and to your complete and utter surprise he then proceeded to give you the stink eye. Jimin let out a loud, tinkling laugh.

“No, Meanie is not a pet. He is my companion.” Jimin’s smile didn’t leave as he turned his gaze from the creature, to you, then back again. “The people of my clan have very strong bonds with the Ina. From birth, we are paired with an Ina pup, and form a connection with them as we grow up.”

You rose to your feet as you listened to him, advancing slowly—although, it was more for just in case than anything, since Meanie seemed to have forgotten about your offense and had since resumed laying his head on Jimin. The creature seemed to be an absolute softie, and it tickled you that his name was Meanie when he seemed to be such a gentle soul.

“That’s so cool!” you said, mindful of not being too loud. “You two have a connection? Can you hear each other’s thoughts?”

Jimin shot you a look of surprise, smiling with something akin to pride. “Yes, actually. Although, I think that he is better attuned to my thoughts than I am to his—I mostly hear him when he is hungry, or lonely. Isn’t that right, pupa?”

The dog—you’d already resigned to recognising him as that in your head for convenience’s sake— had the nerve to roll his eyes, turning his oversized head to give you a look that had too much exasperation within it for you to take seriously. You snorted, and Jimin grinned. His eyes caught the way your fingers twitched, and he gestured to Meanie.

“You can pet him, he won’t mind. He is a sucker for it, actually. Don’t tell him that I told you.”

The dog huffed, but you caught his eye on you expectantly. Laughing once more, you sidled closer and allowed your fingers to sink into the long fur at the back of his neck. It was thick, downy, yet silken and smooth as you ran your fingers through it. It took more effort than expected to delve them deep enough to be able to deliver a good scratch, but when you finally made it the reaction Meanie gave was worth it. He wobbled, swaying towards Jimin before wobbling again at another scratch of your nails against his skin and swaying back towards you.

A surprised squeak escaped you as he sagged against you completely, your arms coming up to embrace him around his thick neck, hands still scratching where they could. “Meanie! You cutie! You’re so cute and handsome, wah, what are we gonna do with you?! I’ve never seen a puppy so handsome in my life…”

You pressed your face into his fur, feeling his resulting amused rumble and happy trill against your skin. “I’m—I don’t think I’m ever gonna let go. I can’t. You’ve beaten me, Meanie. I’m defeated. You have my heart.”

You didn’t know if these Ina creatures could laugh, but it sure felt like they could. Jimin, too, let out a soft chuckle. It was silent a moment before his smooth tone sounded in the air once more.

“Are you still hungry, petal?”

The pet name made heat blossom across your face, and you were thankful that the thick fur of the animal you currently had it buried in shielded it from view. Yes, you came onto Jimin on the daily, but that didn’t mean you weren’t allowed to have a little shame every now and then. Gotta keep yourself grounded, after all.

“I’m always hungry,” you said, trying not to voice how unreasonably embarrassed you were. Meanie made what sounded like a noise of agreement, and Jimin snorted in response.

“Then follow me,” he said, “You are already in my gardens, you may as well come further in for some lunch. I have some fruits that are actually edible.”

You pulled your face from Meanie’s fluffy neck, at first preparing to fire something sassy back but instead settling for a bright smile when you realised just how empty your stomach was feeling. Well, it was empty enough earlier that you’d attempted to climb a tree for some fruit, so you weren’t doing that great to begin with, arguably.

“Fine, since you insist,” you shot back playfully, hands still idly scratching the oversized pup before you. He was appreciative, if his happy rumbling was anything to go by. It was like there was a motor that thrummed to life deep in his chest, vibrating against your body where it was pressed to his. God, you loved animals. So easy to read and get along with.

Jimin’s lips pursed before being tugged into an amused smile, the male turning on his heel and beginning to walk away. “Well, if you’d be so kind as to follow—my rooms are right this way. Come, Meanie. If she tries to slip away, drag her back.”

Jimin was joking (you hoped), and Meanie seemed to realise so (you hoped), so you weren’t as alarmed as you might have been if anyone else directed a creature like Meanie to essentially prevent you from running away.

Which you weren’t going to do, by the way. You didn’t know if Jimin really thought you would, but you’d be surprised if it was the case since you were so open and vocal about your interest in him.

Meanie nudged his head into your shoulder, and it was only then that you realised you'd been staring absently at Jimin's retreating form a little too long. Taking the hint, you reached to rub behind one of the creatures tall, pointy ears and he gave an approving huff as he began to prompt you after his companion.

To be honest, you were expecting a longer trip than what you got; it was barely a minute later that you were emerging from the vibrant greens, blues and iridescent hues of the gardens and encroaching upon a path, and then the familiar material of the palace walls came into view. Jimin made a beeline for a gap in the wall, which you realised was actually a large doorway housing two large double-doors, each embedded with two large, glassy windows. It surprised you to see the material, since you'd noticed a lot of the windows in the palace had nothing at all guarding them, but you supposed that being on the ground floor and so close to gardens and forestry, you wouldn't want anything unsavoury crawling in.

Even though you followed the kelkie inside the room without question, it didn't click until you were several paces into it that it was his room. It was large, very spacious and somewhat minimally decorated. His bed was to the left wall adjacent to the doorway you'd just come through, mattress bigger than some of the ones you'd seen in the guest wing and blocked off by thin gossamer-looking material that spilt from the ceiling, partly obscuring the gleam of silken sheets and blankets. Jimin was the type to make his bed every day, it seemed, and it shouldn't have made you, a being that left a trail of mess and chaos behind you by accident everywhere you went, more attracted to him but it did. Somehow, it did. You thought that at this point you were honestly so far gone he could probably confess to sucking his thumb as he slept and you'd take it in stride without even so much as batting a lash.

"Woah," you muttered without realising, eyes sweeping over his room and taking in each and every detail you could. You were in his room, damn it, and it might not have been under the circumstances you really wished-- not to say they wouldn't hopefully come true one day-- but damn it if you were going to squander the opportunity for some more insight into who he really is. "Nice crib."

The alien shot you an odd, curious look at that, head tilting for a moment before he returned to whatever he was doing before you spoke-- which, it seemed, was taking a bowl of curiously coloured fruits and a jug from a table against the wall to the right of the room. He shook his head, evidently deciding he didn't need to know what the word 'crib' meant (you'd seen the question in his eyes), and turned from the table to begin making his way over. You hadn't realised before, but next to the doorway you'd come through was a small table of medium width, the obsidian-like stone polished and gleaming in the light from the doorway. Two plush cushions sat on the floor, and on top of the table was a small cube pot made of the same material as the table in a lighter shade, an endearingly flowering plant sprouting from the soil within.

Jimin moved and placed the bowl there, along with the jug, and gestured for you to take a seat while he went back to the other table to retrieve something else-- you realised after he pulled whatever he was looking for from a cupboard there that it was actually cups. Following his direction without even thinking, you plopped down on the cushion and narrowly avoided banging your knee on the edge of the table, thankful that Jimin's back was currently to you since you hadn't pulled the most attractive of expressions at your near-miss. There was a huff from behind you, reminding you of Meanie's presence, and you turned just in time to see the gigantic creature flopping down on the other side of the room; there was something there on the floor, like a thin mattress, that was covered in soft throws and blankets. The canine creature settled down and nestled into the fabrics, curling up endearingly and letting out a huff as he relaxed. He looked ready to sleep, but his lidded eyes remained open and flicked occasionally from you to the alien now approaching where you were seated.

"These are the fruits you can eat," he said, apparently still very tickled by what he'd caught you doing earlier. Fine, if it made him that happy then you supposed you'd just have to accept the blow to your pride. You were glad your limited brain cell count amused him.

“Excellent,” you said, wriggling in your seat somewhat excitedly. “I’m starving. They’ve banned me from the kitchens, you know. It’s only for a week and it’s only been a day but it’s rough, man.”

Jimin looked like he was trying very hard not to burst into laughter, a somewhat incredulous yet unsurprised expression morphing his features.  “You got banned from the kitchens? What on Kilkea did you do? You practically live there.”

“I know,” you sighed, scratching the back of your neck as you averted your gaze. “They got sick of me walking in all the time. Apparently it interrupts their groove.”

Jimin’s head tilted, but he looked like he wasn’t going to question it. Admittedly, you felt a bit insulted. You couldn’t tell him that the real reason you’d been banned was because you kept singing and nearly set the entire kitchen ablaze when you attempted to make earth cookies yesterday, though. So there you sat, accepting it as his opinion of you no doubt grew more comfortable where it sat at rock bottom.

Jimin placed the cups onto the table, taking his seat more gracefully than you anticipated after nearly falling and impaling your knee on the corner yourself. Well, some people were just born graceful, you supposed. You don’t know whether he saw the nervous way you eyed the fruits or whether he was just so used to you by now that he knew you were kind of useless, but he took a fruit—purple-tinged and very juicy looking—and went about peeling it much like you would a mandarin, before plopping it before you on the table and picking up one for himself.

Delighted and perhaps a little too eager to taste the fruit considering its insides were blue, you picked it up and broke it into the sections it naturally grew in. It wasn’t long before the first piece was in your mouth, teeth piercing it and causing tart, but overall sweet flavour to sink into your tongue. A surprised noise left you before you could stop it, quickly followed by a hum of approval in explanation. Jimin hid his smile by shoving a piece of the fruit in his mouth too.

“If that’s the case, I am surprised it took you this long to get banned,” he mused, poking fun at you once more. You sent him a half-hearted glare, popping another slice in your mouth to resist firing back too quickly. The flavour of this fruit was quite addictive, actually. The perfect balance of sweet and sour, with no unsavoury aftertaste.

“Excuse me?” you blurted as soon as you swallowed your mouthful. “They love me in there, they’ve practically adopted me at this point. Jeonghan says I’m like a daughter to him.”

Jimin rolled his eyes but couldn’t help his smile. It seemed both of you were well-aware of the pastry-chef’s—who you’d actually originally thought was younger than you— overdramatic tendencies. “If Jeonghan adopted everyone he said he would, then this whole castle would be under his care.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, even hearing Meanie huff in amusement in the corner. “You’re not wrong.”

You were expecting Jimin to stay silent a little longer, having seen him pick up another piece of fruit, but he surprised you and spoke in the next moment, the piece still uneaten in his grasp.

“On that note, there is something I have to discuss with you.” Jimin’s eyes met yours as he slipped the fruit into his mouth. When you sent him a questioning look, he continued. “Jongin and Jongdae are no longer watching you.”

Oh, that was something you knew already. Your first instinct was to believe you were about to get into trouble—which didn’t seem unlikely, since the two guards weren’t shy about blaming you and your many escape attempts for the relief of their duties in watching you.

“Oh. Yep,” you bit your lip, a bit of nervous laughter trickling out. You wondered whether it would be a safer bet to play dumb about it. “I haven’t seen them in a while? Are they alright? I almost miss them.”

Jimin’s lips quirked like he was trying not to smile. “They are no longer watching you because I relieved them of that duty.”

You paused, trying to follow where he was going with this. Ah, so it was his doing? Okay. But were you in trouble or not…? He had better tell you soon, because you were about to break into a nervous sweat.

“Uh, do you want an apology?” you asked, risking a shot in the dark. Jimin blinked at you for a moment before a sudden laugh came tumbling out of him.

“No, there’s no need for an apology,” he managed through his chuckles. “At least, not to me. I am only mentioning it because you are still going to be under someone’s care, it just will not be theirs.”

“Okay, well, in that case I feel I should tell you that I might have needed ‘monitoring’ when I first got here, yeah, maybe, but now I’m perfectly fine wandering on my own! If you want I’ll even promise to bother Namjoon or Yoongi if I need help or something, but I don’t think I need—” you paused mid-defensive-rant, another thought occurring to you that seemed to override the first—a shred of fear wormed its way into your tone as you sought to verify your sudden concerns. “Wait, whose care?”

Jimin plucked another piece of fruit from the rest, plopping it into his mouth and answering you somewhat nonchalantly and without so much as a blink. “Mine.”

“Well I don’t want Seokjin’s—wait, what?” You were thankful you didn’t have anything in your mouth just then because you definitely would have choked on it in your shock. “C-come again?”

“You heard me,” Jimin said, a sly look to his eyes. His marks were flushed an all-too-cheeky plum. “You’re too slippery for me to delegate the task to anyone else, so I will be the one watching you. We only have one kitchen, after all, we can’t afford to have it in flames.”

Your cheeks flushed suddenly with heat, the sensation of more of the humiliating type than the flustered. Oh, so he already knew of yesterday’s escapades. Oops. Still, that aside, you were already struggling to come to terms with what he’d told you. He was going to be watching you from now on? Like, in person? Or in a more ‘eyes in the walls’ kind of way? You didn’t know which was worse, to be honest. Was this the end of your freedom? Wait, but on the flip side…. More time spent with Jimin. Holy crap, you probably shouldn’t have been as excited as you were beginning to feel. Down, you swatted the butterflies in your stomach, down girls!

“O-oh,” you managed, still attempting to regulate the mess that had suddenly exploded in your brain. You didn’t have enough mental RAM for this. “I see. Well…”

In a desperate bid to claim back your cool and swagger, you plopped another piece of fruit in your mouth and raised your brows. Poor timing, but it seemed your dignity defence system had been activated.

“Good luck to you, then! I won’t be tied down! I will remain as slippery as ever and I’ll wish you luck in your efforts to catch me—fruitless, as they will be!”

And then you smacked your fingers on the table, grabbing the cup and taking a hearty sip. For all the bravado you’d just shown, you felt any semblance of normalcy you’d just mustered go flying out the window when you caught Jimin’s gaze and saw the challenge simmering in their depths, his marks tinted jade.

Well, maybe you should have waited until after tea time to challenge the Kelkie who was much, much faster and stronger than you.

x     x     x     x     x

 “So that’s what he said, right, and yet… here I am! I’m too good, I didn’t even leave a trail for him to follow! He should have known better than to think he could catch me… pfft.”

At the silence that followed your words, you paused in your current activity and turned to the male beside you, who in turn simply stood and blinked at you for a moment. Expectantly, you allowed him a moment to muster a response.

“So… you didn’t want to be stuck under my care and yet here you are, chatting away with me the second you slip free of Jimin’s watch?” Seokjin asked, expression telling you he was attempting to understand your reasoning and coming up blank. For a moment, you yourself were stumped for a response—you hadn’t thought of it that way! Your idiot was showing— you made a quick recovery though.

“That was the only thing you got from all I told you?” you queried, before shaking your head and clicking your tongue. “Why do I even bother? I should have gone to annoy Yoongi instead.”

Seokjin seemed to be ignoring you—or at least, what you were saying. He continued like you hadn’t just said anything at all.

“Also, as someone who, and this is a direct quote, ‘wants to climb Jimin like a tree’ at every possible opportunity, isn’t running from him somewhat counterintuitive? I mean, you currently have the perfect excuse to be near him and you are bragging about running away…?” Seokjin’s head tilted, eyes squinting at you as his fingers played with the decorations currently in his hold. He’d made far more progress with his side of the wall than you had, considering you’d spent more time talking than hanging. It was something your teachers had always commented on in school, so you weren’t that surprised in honesty.

You sputtered, several holes having been poked ruthlessly and mercilessly in your logic and your pride. Seokjin, the poker, seemed somewhat pleased at your current stuttering state.  As the pokee in this situation, you were anything but pleased.

“What? No! It’s not counterintuitive!” you warbled, grabbing one of the decorative pieces and slapping it onto some adhesive on the wall. You felt your cheeks heat, shoulders pinching up in embarrassment. “Shut up!”

Even while facing in another direction, you could feel Seokjin as he rolled his eyes.

“Always asking for the flame when she cannot even handle the heat, tsk tsk tsk,” Seokjin uttered, taking the opportunity to click his tongue at you. You bristled but couldn’t form a response, considering he was right. Humiliatingly, despite all your efforts to get closer to Jimin, now that you finally had the perfect excuse to be around him all the time, it was like too much all at once. You were just one woman! And a horny one at that. The people around here should know better than to take the randy things that come out of your mouth at face value.

“I CAN HANDLE IT!” Your outburst was somewhat indignant and left you feeling somewhat like a child, but you didn’t have time to dwell on it. “Just… after an adjustment period. I suddenly went from nothing of something to a lot of something! Give me a break, man, I’ve only got a few cells left up here and they’re on their last legs.”

Seokjin hummed, narrowing his eyes at your head. “I did think that I heard less rattling up there than usual.”

Resisting the urge to hiss at him, you soothed your hackles and decided to change the topic to something that didn’t threaten to give you a heart attack or death-by-shame. “Also, when am I going to be allowed to know about this all-secret event that’s taking place? It’s been so long! And I’m helping you set up, so it must be soon. Surely not all of these people are here helping set up without even knowing…?”

Seokjin didn’t even blink as he responded. “Oh, they know. Actually, you’ve been allowed to know for a while… I think at this point you’re the only one that doesn’t know.”

You blinked, squinting as his words sunk in. “Hey—what? That’s not fair! Why can’t I know? Seokjin! Tell me!”

Mirth played in the kelkie’s eyes as he shot you a look from the side, marks flushed playful lilac. “No way. It’s much more amusing letting you sit and wonder.”

You stared at him, mouth open in shock. This jerk was really just going to let you sit and rot, huh?! Something akin to betrayal began to fill you, a petulant glare slipping onto your face.

“Seokjin!” It was meant to be reprimanding but it came out more like a whine. “Come on, please tell me? I deserve to know! Especially considering it’s just—it’s only—how far away is it, again?”

“It’s in a little less than a week’s time,” Seokjin answered easily, adhering another of the decorations to the wall. They were pretty little things, thin and about the size of your palm but they felt like slices of crystal and glimmered as you would expect such an item to. “You’re actually expected to attend. I believe Joy has even procured a dress for you and has plans for your hair.”

“Oh, I’m invited?” Momentarily touched, you couldn’t help the turn your thoughts took, a smile slipping onto your face before you remembered your stance and wiped it off. “That’s so nice of y—wait! If I’m going then I need to know what the event actually is, Seokjin! Please tell me!”

As you might have predicted, the kelkie was having far too much fun teasing you to be anywhere close to telling you what you want to know. He snorted as he went about sticking another decoration up, pausing afterwards to scan the room and check up on the other decorating jobs being completed by palace workers. When his eyes got to you and looked over how behind you were, he frowned.

“Isn’t the element of the unknown such a thrilling thing, though?” he asked, clearly making fun of you still. “Besides, you don’t need to know to have fun—”

“Seokjinnnnn,” you were outright whining now, the remainder of your dignity having fled you where you stood on top of a stool in one of the great halls in the palace. You wanted to know so badly—for weeks you’d been wondering what was going on! By this point you were growing a little desperate. “Please? Please tell me? Oh please please please—”

Seokjin rolled his eyes and cut you off before your dramatic arm motions could make you fall off the stool. “What do I get out of telling you, though? Currently I’m getting a lot of entertainment out of not telling you, so why should I give that up?”

You gaped at him, bastard!

“You jerk!” you exclaimed, before quickly thinking better of it and backtracking. “Okay, fine. If you tell me I’ll… uh… I’ll stop visiting the kitchens and making a mess all the time.”

Seokjin gave you an amused look. “I know you’ve already been banned from there.”

With a groan of frustration, you threw your hands into the air, just barely catching your balance before you toppled. “Fine! I’ll—I’ll stop wasting your time and calling for you whenever I get bored! I’ll call, I don’t know… I’ll call Yoongi instead.”

Seokjin’s head tilted as he pondered the offer, mulling it over carefully. A moment later he flashed you a smile. “Not the best but it is a start! I will tell you something in exchange for that promise—I want you to promise me, by the way. Out loud. I know that you are slippery.”

You let out a huff, holding down the whines that wanted to escape. Something was better than nothing! If you had something to go off, you could just go and pressure someone else for the answer to the rest of it. With that in mind, you squashed down the minor offence that rose at the fact your reputation as ‘slippery’ had preceded you to such an extent, and forced out the words that would get you what you wanted.

“Do… I have to?” You let out a breath from the effort, wincing. It went against your nature to verbally trap yourself! You had a phobia of contracts!

“Yes.” Seokjin said, deadpan. “Repeat after me, ‘Seokjin, I promise that I will never again call you when—‘”

“Never?!” you interjected, appalled. “Isn’t that a bit hasty—”

“Do you want to know?” the male cut you off, brows raised. He rested a hand on his hip and the sudden movement of his body made the inky locks atop his head shift, flopping across his forehead. “If so, say it.”

Pushing down the remainders of your pride was more difficult than usual, but somehow you managed it. Grumbling, you smacked another decoration onto the wall, watching it fall to the floor in disdain because there wasn’t enough adhesive.

“Fine. Seokjin, I promise that I will never again call you when I am bored. I will… call someone else… instead…”

It might have been like he was trying to bleed water from a rock, but Seokjin couldn’t have looked more smug or pleased with himself—even despite how admittedly lacklustre your promise was.

“Excellent!” he cheered, smearing more adhesive on the wall and pasting a decoration where you had attempted to just moments ago. “Now, do know that if you go back on your word it is a punishable offence. I’m thinking…” He tapped his chin, eyes averted in thought as his marks shimmered blue. “No pudding for at least three months.”

Despite the fact it was only a threat and you weren’t actually being punished with that, you felt panic well up within you. Damn, he’s good. You gulped. “I-I won’t… Don’t you even know me, Seokjin? My honour… my integrity…. Renowned across the galaxy.”

Seokjin rolled his eyes so heavily you worried for a split second they were going to drop from his skull. “Of course. As we all know.”

You huffed, taking it in stride considering he was about to finally tell you what you’d been wanting to know for weeks now. Making a rare wise choice, you decided to clamp your mouth shut and wait for Seokjin to enlighten you. It seemed to work in your favour, as Seokjin too is a man that enjoys talking and the second you provided a conversational gap for him he was inclined to fill it.

“It’s for the King and Queen,” Seokjin said, placing some adhesive on the wall in front of you in an unspoken prompt to get back to work. “They’re back from their leave soon, but that’s not the only reason we are celebrating.”

Seokjin turned, meeting your gaze with a fond look in his eye coupled with a hint of excitement, both of which you presumed were directed at the royal couple. “They’re expecting, you see, and since the Queen is human, it has broken an unfortunate cycle that has plagued the royal line for centuries. After what happened to the King’s late parents… the people are overjoyed they won’t have to see that again.”

Curiousity instantly bubbled and burned within you, but at the same time…. You almost felt like it wasn’t your place to ask about whatever happened. It didn’t affect you, so you reasoned you should probably leave it for now. Besides, you felt like you’d find out eventually. Instead, you focused your thoughts onto the other parts of what he’d told you. Piece by piece, it sunk in.

“I almost forgot the Queen is human,” you muttered, filling space while your brain processed—it finished barely a moment later and you looked to Seokjin with wide eyes as realisation smacked you in the face several times. “Wait, she’s pregnant?! But they’re—so humans and kelkies can—?!”

Amused, and looking like he apparently expected a reaction like this from you, Seokjin snorted. “Well, we weren’t sure. But apparently so.”

“Huh. That’s really lovely, everyone must be super excited for them,” you said, a billion thoughts whirring through your mind at once. One made itself a little more known than the others, and an odd feeling filled your chest.

Seokjin seemed to tell you were attempting to try and word something, and gave you a moment to put it together. You couldn’t look him in the eye as you spoke, for once feeling oddly and uncharacteristically vulnerable.

“She chose to stay, then… Was it an easy choice?” You didn’t even know why you’d asked it, but it made it’s way out of your mouth nonetheless.

The kelkie gave you a curious look, but otherwise didn’t question you. “Well, for her… She wasn’t going to, at first. There were a few other crucial factors that influenced her decision, for a while. But ultimately, once they cleared… she chose what was going to make her happiest. I recall she once told me she felt surprisingly at home, here. Not long after arriving, she found herself wanting to stay.”

At his words, you weren’t sure how you were supposed to feel. Your entire life there has been something in a constant state of unrest within you. You’ve hopped from job to job, world to world, life to life. None have fit, and none have soothed that flighty feeling inside any better than the last. You almost grow tired of it; sometimes you’ve found yourself wondering if this is how you’re going to live the remainder of your years, never settling, never finding somewhere you feel truly at home. Earth was where you were born, but it wasn’t a home to you. None of the groups you’d ever found your way to had ever felt like the perfect fit. You’ve never once felt inclined to stay at the places you have been, or entertained the notion past that of a stray thought.

But his words gave you pause, because for the first time in your life the feeling inside you had changed, and you were beginning to realise its new form.

It was in such stark contrast to who you knew yourself to be, that it actually frightened you, a little. This feeling had a few names and you were afraid to utter any of them.

“You’ve been a lot of places across the galaxy, lived many different ways,” Seokjin’s head tilted, eyes soft, inquisitive. “Was there nowhere that you found yourself wishing to stay?”

Of course, it would be perfectly in character for you to fire back something witty and funny, but you felt oddly vacant, for the barest moment. You met his gaze without thinking, and wondered if he could see the vulnerability as it revealed itself bit by bit within you.

“No, there wasn’t anywhere I wanted to stay.” You paused, swallowing. “But, I mean, being capricious is kind of my thing, you know? I gotta stay on brand.”

Seokjin smiled, before shaking his head.

“It is okay to want to stay, you know. You don’t even have to have a reason.” The male’s eyes were kind as they met your own, and you felt your chest clench. “There is a place for you here, if you decide you want it.”

His words touched you, but in the process stirred up an entire storm of untouched thoughts and emotions within you, the type that blended in together and blurred the lines that bound them. You were nowhere near ready to delve into them right now. Ignoring the surprising prick in your eyes, you shot him a smile. “Thank you for that, Seokjin. I… I think I will just need to think on it.”

He nodded, soft look remaining before it took a different turn and his marks flushed playful blue. His gaze was on you, before it caught something over your shoulder and his eyes widened incrementally. He schooled his expression so quickly after that you weren’t sure if it had actually happened. “Don’t think too hard on it, though. You’ll overwork the few cells that you have left.”

At the return of the bickering air you were so familiar with, you slipped right back into it with ease—anything to distract from the thoughts he’d unearthed with his kind words. “Excuse me? There mightn’t be many of them but they pull their weight! My brain cells might be overworked and underpaid but damn it if they don’t get the job done—”

You were ready to keep going, you really were, you had about thirty seconds more content to burn through, but in the worst plot twist of the century you didn’t get to continue. So quickly you almost didn’t see it, Seokjin shifted in his stance on the floor, bracing one hand on the wall. You didn’t even have time to finish wondering why before you found out—the hard way.

Too quick to counter, Seokjin’s foot flew out, making harsh contact with the stool you were precariously perched on. Immediately, inevitably, you were sent tumbling and the bucket of adhesive and decorations on your arm was sent flying off to god knew where. Truly, your hubris in wanting to stand in a cool pose on the stool was to blame for how unsteady and ready to fall you were.

A few things happened rapidly; first, you fell through the air, narrowly saved from a humiliating death-by-head-bump by Seokjin’s lightning fast reflexes. He ended up catching you in a pose that reminded you of when you were dancing with someone and they dipped you—your hair was probably brushing the floor, and Seokjin’s face was much, much closer than you ever expected to see it. Second, there was the loud sound of your stool clattering onto the ground. Third, there was a round of gasps that you figured sounded because you fell.

Well, it wouldn’t be the first time you were wrong in assuming everything was about you.

You blinked, the realisation that Seokjin knocked you off the stool sinking in and instantly riling you up—you were about to open your mouth and chew him out when a third, and final, sound echoed through the room. A sharp CLANG, and then the distinct sound of hollow metal rolling across the floor. It gave you pause, the sound occurring much later than it should have—it should have dropped straight to the ground, right?

A sense of dread beginning to curl within you, you dared to turn your head and peer to the side, where your back had been facing earlier. At once, you realised you were dead.

The alien love of your life stood in the doorway to the room, a mere few metres away, which should make you either giddy or overjoyed, but it was the sight of gooey adhesive dripping thickly down his face from where it had pooled in his hair that prevented such a reaction. Your bucket rolled around by his feet, some decorations joining it on the ground and others stuck in the glue that was quickly becoming acquainted with Jimin’s entire front.

His eyes had been closed, presumably on reflex, but they opened after a hand rose to wipe the thick goo from them—thankfully, it hadn’t reached his actual eyes. The dark pools flitted about the room before landing on you; his marks stained dark, dark red, and after scanning your form and witnessing the debacle around you, turned deep, murky green.

You might have been stupid, but even you knew when death was about to grab you in its clutches. You scrambled, trying to get out of Seokjin’s grip but failing miserably—oh, so he’s your executioner, huh? Bastard. And right after you bonded, too.

“y/n.” You jolted like you’d been electrocuted, eyes whipping back to Jimin; something burned in his gaze that made your stomach drop and legs wobble, even while he was covered in goo. He took two slow, long steps until he was close enough that just the three of you could hear him speak—his voice when he did, low and raspy as it was, made you shiver. “My room. Midmoon, tonight. If you are not ready then the punishment for making such a mess of preparations for such an important event will worsen. Don’t force my hand on that, petal.”

His gaze bore into you for a long, potent moment after he spoke, before it flicked to where Seokjin had his hold on you, jaw clenching so hard you saw his temple shift. Eyes harder and burning more intensely than before, he delivered you one last look—a very decidedly pissed one—before he turned on his heel and stalked from the room, beginning to wipe away adhesive as he went.

For a few seconds after he disappeared, you simply hung in place, in a state of shock. The sound of Seokjin’s amused snort brought you back, however, and instantly you recalled exactly who was to blame for your newly scheduled death.

“You rat,” you hissed, glaring at him. “How could you?! Now I’m going to die! Oh you know what, if I hadn’t just promised yo—OW! SEOKJIN!”

Mercilessly, the male released his hold, you dropped, and an instant pain shot through your behind. Why was it that you were always falling on your ass in this palace?! God! It hurts so damn much!

“The day is coming to an end, y/n,” Seokjin said, straightening and looking very much unapologetic and entirely too humoured. “You better go get ready.”

Realising just how late into the afternoon it had gotten, you scrambled to your feet, panicked and affronted. Deciding you couldn’t afford to stay and bicker if you were going to flee the solar system in time, you settled for a glare and flipped Seokjin the bird, uncaring whether he understood it.

“I hate you!” you exclaimed as you turned and started to flee. “I’m ending this friendship, Seokjin! After this don’t even look at me, traitor!”

Seokjin’s rare, squeaky laughter breached the air as you left, the sound chasing you down the hall mockingly.

If you didn’t die tonight, you were going to kill him for trying to kill you.

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::[ please lmk what you think! & pls consider buying me a kofi if you’d like to support me in some way! <3 ]::

[onthepageoftears]

Hold Them Closer ~ Ch.12 [Jaskier x assassin!reader] || Witcher

A/N: okay I lied about there being two chapters left, now after this one there are ACTUALLY two chapters left lol (well, one and an epilogue). it's seriously going to be so weird not writing this y/n x jaskier story ahhhh okay im just not gonna think about it lol enjoy!

Your kind words and reviews mean a lot to me, so please don’t afraid to leave a message/comment!

Summary: Reverting to your old ways never brings peace.

Warnings: language? angst, self deprecation, conflicted reader, lots of gore, violence, mentions of death/killing/blood, again lots of gore so read at your own risk!

Words: 2,713 (longer chapter you’re welcome hehe)

Please Don’t Plagiarize My Work!

Your heart was stuck in your throat as your mother pulled away from Theo. Her daughter. Your mother’s daughter. Her other child.

“Oh, thank the gods.” She said, patting down Theo’s hair where she had just kissed it. Your stomach dropped — that used to be you. The child in your mother’s grasp used to be you. Now, it was Theo. Your…sister?

“Sorry, Mom.” Theo’s voice was sheepish, strained. It wasn’t like you had ever heard her — not the usual condescending or sarcastic tone she carried. But you supposed everyone acted differently around their mothers.

Theo’s mother — your mother — clicked her tongue. “If you ever do that again…"

The first words you spoke weren’t the ones you expected. “Theo did well. She’s a fighter.”

Your mother’s eyes cast over you, absent of any flicker of recognition. “That’s what I’m worried about.” She smiled at you, but in a polite way. Your stomach churned as she reached into the front of her apron. “Well, here. Your reward.”

She stepped toward you, her relief-filled smile not the one you were hoping for. You stared at her for a moment too long, making her frown. After clearing your throat, you shook your head.

“We can’t take that,” you said, almost surprising yourself.

Your mother frowned, pushing the pouch out again. “You must. You helped my daughter. I can’t let that go unrewarded.”

You blinked, taking a sharp breath in. Part of you felt distant from the conversation as if you were watching it from the outside, like a memory, or a dream — or a nightmare.

Again, you cleared your throat, trying with every muscle in your body to keep your composure. “Your daughter didn’t need any of our help, ma’am. Like I said, she’s a fighter.”

Your mother tilted her head, a pleased smile finding its way on her face before she nodded, “I appreciate that.” She looked at you a second longer before turning around, shoving the pouch back in her apron as she made her way behind the counter. It was then that you noticed this wasn’t any shop — it was a bakery. As your stomach churned once more, your mother spoke, ��Here. At least take some food with you. I can only imagine how hungry you must be.”

This time, you let Geralt step forward, his eyes casting over you for a moment before taking the loaf of bread from your mother’s hands. Jaskier thanked her gently, nodding to her and Theo and taking your arm in his hand. You kept your eyes locked on her, only moving them when Jaskier led you out the door.

As soon as the fresh air hit your face, you felt like maybe you could finally breathe. That feeling wasn’t enough; you blinked at the brightness around you, taking very shallow breaths as Jaskier led you further away from your mother’s shop.

Geralt walked ahead, grunting about meeting you and Jaskier at the inn. His eyes stopped on you before leaving, but you were too focused on the harshness of your breaths.

Jaskier stopped in front of you, his eyes flitting over your face. “Are you alright? You look like you’ve seen a wraith.” You flicked your eyes to him, and as if he were a mind reader, his jaw dropped. “No— that’s not—“

You cut him off, casting your eyes on the ground, “My mother. Yes. That’s her.”

Jaskier stuttered, his head shaking in confusion, “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Julian—“ You looked at him, your eyes full of regret. “I can’t.”

“What? Why not?”

“I can’t…I just can’t. I can’t face her, I can’t—“

“Alright, hey — hey, it’s okay.” You let him engulf you in his arms, his comforting scent filling the space around you.

“She has another kid,” you mumbled into his chest, eyes still open despite their sudden heaviness.

Jaskier sighed, his chin resting on your head. “She does.”

—

“How do you feel today?”

You turned your head from the window, letting your eyes rest on Jaskier. He must’ve been standing there for a while without you noticing, as he was now leaning against one of the chairs in your shared room.

In response to his question, you shrugged.

It had been nearly two days since you came back with Theo — two days since you found your mother. In two days, you could have caught up with her, cried with her, told her the countless stories you had under your belt. Instead, you were cooped up in your room at the local inn, barely saying a word to anyone. You were thinking, quite a lot, about how you were going to build up the courage to reveal your identity.

Jaskier sighed, looking to the quarter loaf of bread left idle on the table. “You haven’t eaten?”

You turned back to the window, silently shaking your head. You didn’t even have to answer him — your mother baked that bread, and one taste would have you…well, you didn’t know what you would do. You didn’t want to find out.

“Love,” Jaskier said, his voice gentle as he walked up behind you, placing a hand on your waist. “You have to talk to her. We won’t leave here until you do.”

You frowned, eyes still focusing on nothing in particular.

Jaskier continued, “I can go with you. We can talk to her together if you want.” At your silence, he kissed your shoulder, “I’ll be around. Let me know if you need me.”

You didn’t watch as he left.

—

It was the early afternoon when you found yourself standing in front of your mother’s shop. Eyes trained on the shop door, you frowned. You had just gone out for a walk to try and clear your head from its constant whirring, but you ended up here. It wasn’t exactly a helpful place to stop — in fact, it was the exact opposite. Maybe your brain was trying to subconsciously force you to talk with your mother, to just get it over with. And maybe you should have.

Standing in front of the shop doors, you thought of what was happening inside. Your mother — her hair now greyed but still just as luscious as you remembered it — setting up the pastries of the day, finally owning the shop she had always dreamed about. Her favorite recipes now perfected, welcoming regulars into the shop doors every day. Someone helps her man the counter on especially busy days, sometimes even helping her bake — except, that person, that child helping your mother — it’s not you. It’s Theo. Theo is the one with your mother. Theo is the one who has been with your mother for the past sixteen or so years.

You feel yourself step back from the shop, a frown forming on your face. While your mother and her daughter have been living in Velen, working in their small shop — you were a trained killer. You killed countless innocent people, sliced dozens of throats, stabbed even more hearts. The blood on your hands, the guilt on your back…how could you ever think your mother would want to know you again? You weren’t the child she left behind. You were no different than Rauf, no different than those endregas you slashed through the other day.

You were a cold-blooded killer. An assassin. A monster.

Your breath was shaky as you walked backward away from the shop. You didn’t belong here, or anywhere of the sort. You belonged in a battle, in the way of a dozen blades. You were meant to kill — built to kill — so that was what you would do.

Your feet stomped their way over to the nearest notice board. No thoughts echoed in your mind as you searched the loose parchments, eyes searching for anything to get your hands dirty. They landed on big letters — BANDITS. You skimmed the page, the location being the only thing you needed. Without thinking, you unsheathed one of the knives from your boot and stabbed it into the notice board, on the very job you were about to fulfill. You would get your knife back when you were done, and only then. You didn’t even care for the money — you just wanted to do what you were meant to do.

Kill.

—

The ride to the bandit’s hideout was nothing for you and Buttercup. You practically hopped off her back, barely stopping long enough to tie her to a nearby tree. Without an ounce of hesitation, you slid your sword from its sheath and made your way down the narrow pathway and into the depths of the forest.

It was just barely getting dark, the sunset casting a warm glow over the horizon. You thought of Jaskier for a moment, but just a moment, as you shook the thought away immediately. He was another person who you didn’t deserve, not after all you’ve done. It didn’t matter if you loved him, or if he loved you — love wasn’t enough. It never was.

You didn’t even bother sneaking down the pathway — leaves crunched under your feet, your sword held tightly in your hands. The sound of laughter echoed in the forest just as you caught sight of smoke from a fire. You grit your teeth, eyes narrowing as you walked faster towards the sound of the bandits.

They had no clue what was about to happen to them, and that made you shiver.

As you neared the small camp, you counted the heads you could see: five. Your shoulders nearly dropped from disappointment. You wanted a real challenge.

Better than nothing, you thought as you rolled your neck in a circle, stretching your muscles casually as one of the bandits finally noticed you.

“Hey! Who the fuck are you?”

You smiled as the bandits stood from their tree stumps, grabbing their weapons and immediately pointing them towards you.

Swinging your sword in your hand, you looked one of them in the eyes, “I’m your worst fucking nightmare.”

Without waiting for a response, you let out a battle cry, charging the nearest bandit with your sword held high. He blocked your sword with his mace, pushing it so you stumbled backward. One of the other bandits jumped towards you in your state, slicing into the side of your stomach. You grit your teeth, glaring at the man who just cut you.

“You’ll regret that,” you said, and immediately lunged your sword into his leg. He screamed as you removed your sword; you quickly brought it up again and sliced it into his stomach this time. He fell to the ground, his screams fueling your adrenaline as you looked up at the rest of the bandits. They seemed to be in shock for a moment before their wide-open mouths became gritted in anger.

“Get the fucker!” One yelled, making three of the others rush towards you. You immediately dropped down, causing all of them to tumble over your body. While they were on the ground, you unsheathed a knife, throwing it towards the bandit on the opposite side of the fire. The knife lodged right into his throat, blood immediately squirting out from the wound.

By then, the other three bandits had gotten up, one of them slamming you in the back with a bludgeon. You yelled out, hands catching your body on the ground beneath you. You felt another blow, this time knocking the breath out of you and forcing your face down into the dirt.

“I’m gonna enjoy this one,” one of them sneered as he dragged his bludgeon on the ground. You cursed, just now realizing your sword was no longer in your hand. “Looking for this?” The sneering bandit asked, holding your sword up tauntingly.

You looked up, bringing your own face into a sneer. Within a second, you unsheathed another knife and reached up to stab the bandit in the gut: once, twice, three times before one of the others grabbed the back of your collar and threw you in the opposite direction.

You coughed after you hit the ground, trying to use one of your arms to lift yourself up. Before you could, the bandit with the mace kicked you in the stomach — hard. You blinked through the pain, a satisfied smile filling your features at the sight of the sneering bandit writhing in pain on the ground.

“You think this is funny?” The mace bandit kicked you again in the stomach, then placed his foot on your wrist. You yelled in pain as he reached down and took your knife, throwing it into the growing darkness. “What are you gonna do now, huh?”

For a moment, you just blinked. In hindsight, you were pretty much screwed. Only one knife left, your sword a few feet away. But instead of panicking, you laughed.

“What the fuck are you laughing at?” The other live bandit said, who was now standing up from the dead sneering bandit’s body.

“This.” You spoke, before clamping your teeth down on the mace bandit’s ankle.

He screamed out, immediately trying to slam your side with his mace. Before he could, you rolled out of the way, sitting up just as his mace made contact with the ground. In one swift movement, you grabbed his wrist and kicked it with as much force as you could. The mace fell to the ground as he cradled his now broken wrist, giving you the perfect opportunity to pick it up and slam it into the side of his head.

You didn’t bother trying to take the mace out of the bandit’s head — instead, you stood up slowly, keeping eye contact with the last bandit. He shook in his spot, holding his small sword towards you, gulping as you walked over to him. His eyes widened as you grabbed his wrist, sliding the sword from his grasp. For a second, the fear in his eyes made you stop. But then, you shook the feeling in the pit of your stomach away, throwing his sword to the side and bringing your knee up straight into his groin. He fell to his knees in front of you, a groan escaping his lips. As he struggled in his spot, you stepped behind him, giving him a moment to catch his breath. Then, after a second of contemplation, you unsheathed the last knife from your boot and grabbed the last bandit’s chin, lifting it up so you could slide your knife across his neck.

His choked breaths echoed in the growing darkness, the sound making you wince. For the first time in a while, you thought of your old friend.

The memories flooded you like the blood that spilled from the bandit’s throat — for a moment, instead of a nasty bandit, you saw Joneta. You saw her confused eyes after you slit her throat, the blood coating your hands as you tried to seal the wound.

“I told you to stop.” You said, falling to your knees, eyes brimming with tears as you relived the memory. Joneta looked back at you, her eyes glazing over just as they had not long ago.

As you blinked through the tears, Joneta's face turned back into that of the bandit. You slumped the bandit’s body to the side, a sob escaping your throat. Your hands were covered in blood, as they were that day — as they were so many other days, from so many other people. You hadn’t just killed a dear friend, you hadn’t just killed the only family you really knew — you killed so many people. So many innocents. How many more? How many more were you going to kill? How could you ever be the person you wanted to be — how could you be with Jaskier, a charismatic, friendly bard? How could you be with someone not as evil as you? As monstrous as you?

Your eyes welled with tears as you stared down at the blood coating your skin, your mouth wide open as you tried to breathe. Instead, loud sobs escaped your throat, seemingly echoing in the darkness falling over you.

You couldn’t move. You couldn’t breathe. So you sat there, in the middle of the bandit’s camp, their bodies littered around you to remind you of all the death you were the cause of.

———————————————————————————————————

:(((( let me know your thoughts!

[beanst0ck]

‘ They aren't a demon slayer but still travel with Zenitsu even though it's dangerous and Tanjirou has told them that but they don't listen, and since Zenitsu is scared all the time why not a situation with a demon where the reader is terrified and he realizes he has to be serious and help/protect them ‘ - @katthestupidwizard​

Zenitsu? Being Badass? Only when he’s asleep but thank you for requesting Iza!! Since you refered to the reader as they/them I made it a gender neutral! reader

Protect You

Pairing: Zenitsu x GN! Reader

Unedited

Word count: 1539

" (Y/NNNNNNN)!! "

Suddenly a body pressed itself against you and you felt arms wrap around your body, almost knocking you over from the unexpected weight. You clenched your weapon in your hands, trembling in fear at the demon in front of you. " Zenitsu! Please let me go! You need to kill that demon! " You tried to shake him off of you, but he tightened his hold on you.

He shook his head, " NO! CANT YOU SEE I CANT KILL THAT THING?! IM NOT STRONG ENOUGH! “

Tanjiro sighed, pulling out his black nichirin blade. This was a low level demon, Tanjiro could tell. The demon hasn't eaten many humans and is relying on on its poor agility to avoid the slayer's attacks. One more strike... Tanjiro ran towards the demon, gripping his sword tightly in his right hand. " Breath of Water first form, Water Surface Slash! "

He quickly swung at the demon, not giving him a chance to dodge. The demon's head flew over Tanjiro, heading straight for you. You shrieked and ducked as the disintegrating head barely missed you, hitting Zenitsu straight in the face. He let go of you and backed away, " AHHHHHH! GET IT OFF GET IT OFF! "

You sighed as Zenitsu fell to the floor while holding his face and screaming. Tanjiro placed a hand on your shoulder, " Are you alright (Y/n)? "

You nodded, " Yea, thanks for asking- "

" HEY! GET YOUR HANDS OFF MY (Y/N)! " Zenitsu jumped up and snatched you into his arms, away from Tanjiro, " YOU WONT TAKE THEM AWAY FROM ME! "

Tanjiro held his hands up in defense, " I wasn't trying to, Zenitsu.. "

He huffed and pulled you closer to him, glaring at Tanjiro for placing his hand on you. You patted his back at a rapid pace, " C-Can't breathe!- "

" Huh? " Zenitsu looked down at you before loosening his grip on you, " (Y/n)! Don't leave me for Tanjiro! "

You let out a nervous laugh, " Don't worry, I won't.. "

Zenitsu separated himself from you when Tanjiro's crow began to yell out directions to their next mission. Apparently a town a few minutes south from your current location has a situation with a wild bear. At night it sneaks into people's houses and devours its victims, leaving nothing behind but a bloody mess. You shivered hearing the description of the mission.

You have nothing to defend yourself but a hardwood stick. You would've become a demon slayer just like your friends, but you aren't able to use any breath styles. Usually, when Zenitsu was crying about how he can't defeat a demon, Tanjiro would step in and save you. He often questioned why you tagged along but you would always respond with the same thing.

" Zenitsu protected me once and for that, I owe him my life. "

Of course when you told Zenitsu this he thought you meant you'd marry him- to which you quickly said no. But you did agree to follow him along his journey and help him in anyway you could.

The three of you begin to walk towards the town and you arrive just as the sun is setting. " I think it would be best if we don't walk too far from one another since we don't know the layout of the town yet. " Tanjiro suggested and you nodded in agreement.

" I think I'm going to take a look over there. " You pointed towards a house that was near a patch of trees.

" Alright, I think I'll takeWas at the house that was recently attacked since it's only a couple of blocks away. Please be safe, ok (Y/n)? " Tanjiro glanced at you worriedly and you gave him a thumbs up, " I will! "

" HUH?! What about me?! You guys can't leave me here alone! " Zenitsu cried out.

" You should search for the demon too Zenitsu. Maybe you'll find him? " You looked back at Zenitsu to see that he was already panicking.

You sigh, " Fine, you can come with me."

Grabbing Zenitsu's wrist you gently pull him towards your destination, him sniffling the whole way. Once you arrive at the house you notice that the doors are wide open. Taking a peak inside you see that the house is empty, the few furniture pieces that remain inside seemed to have been scratched and tainted with blood. You took a step inside, noticing a certain area on the wooden floor that seemed to be stained worse than the rest of the area." Ah, I guess this was one of the houses that- "

" AHHHH! We need to get out of here! T-This was the house that was!- "

You jumped over and placed your hands over his mouth, instantly shutting him up. " Shh! What if the demon is nearby? " you whispered, " we need to stay ca- "

" Ahhh, I smell dinner~ "

You and Zenitsu immediately freeze at the sound of the unfamiliar voice. It was so smooth yet it carried a sharp edge to it at the same time. A hand could be seen gripping onto the edge of the window and slowly a body perched itself on the ledge.

" Oh? Two full course meals? This must be my special day!~ " The demon stuck his thin tongue out that was split in the middle.

The demon's sclera were a light green while the pupils were sharp and thin, like a snake's eyes. His pale skin stood out from the dark green raggedy clothing he wore. He smirked once he noticed the two of you tremble with fear. He stuck his tongue out again, practically smelling the fear the two of you emanated.

He hopped down from the window ledge and onto the wood floor with a small thud. You clutched onto Zenitsu's yellow and orange gradient haori in fear, " Z-Zenitsu... " you muttered out softly, tears beginning to gather at the corner of your eyes.

You felt him wrap his arms around your body tightly before he went limp. Looking up you see his head tilted back, his eyes are closed and you could practically see his soul leave his body. You gulp, " Z-Zenitsu... Zenitsu! " you cried in a shaky voice, " don't do this to me Zenitsu! Not now! "

You shake his body, trying to get him to come back to consciousness. " Oh no, seems that my dinner was too frightened by my presence... No matter, you'll make an excellent appetizer.~ " he smirked and began walking over to you.

Grabbing your stick you take a defensive stance in front of Zenitsu. He saved you once, so maybe today was the day you'd repay him for his kindness. The demon stopped in his tracks and began cackling, " You think you can actually defeat me? A lowly human such as yourself? " He held his hand up and diagonally sliced the air.

You held your stick in front of you, bracing for his attack but nothing came. Suddenly, your stick snapped in half. The cut was clean and straight down the middle. You slowly backed away in fear, tripping over Zenitsu's leg. No... you gripped the two pieces of wood in your hands, I have to protect Zenitsu!

You quickly stand, noticing the demon was preparing for another attack. Just as the demon sends another attack towards you a flash of yellow blocks your vision. You look behind you and see that Zenitsu was no longer on the floor, but instead now he was right in front of you. Even though his back was facing you you could tell something was different about him. He seemed less, afraid. His hand reached over to draw his nichirin blade from its scabbard. " Thunder Breathing, first form.. "

He rushed towards the demon, who took a step back from the sudden attack. " Thunderclap and Flash! " he brought out his sword and in an instant the demon's head was rolling on the floor.

Zenitsu places his sword back and opened his eyes. He looked around the room, seeing you tremble in the corner out of fear and the decapitated demon. He let out a scream and jumped away from the demon's head. Seeing Zenitsu revert back to his original self made even more tears swell up in your eyes. You stood up and ran to him, embracing him in a tight hug. He stumbled back, not expecting your embrace. " Zenitsu! " you cried and hugged him even tighter, " you did it! Thank you! "

Slowly you two fell to the floor. He had no idea what were talking about but hugged you back, enjoying your warm embrace. You continued to to cry in his arms, apologizing for not being able to protect him properly. All he could do was awkwardly rub circles on your back in a soothing manner. After a few minutes you let go of him and rubbed your eyes, " I'm sorry, I guess I owe you double now, huh? "

He blinked repeatedly after hearing your question. Zenitsu eagerly grabbed your hands and brought them to his chest, " Please marry me! "

" Huh?! "

You weren't expecting him to ask you again after you had turned him down so many times. Over the course of your journey though, you had grown to like the blonde crybaby. Looking him in the eye you gave him a smile, " Alright, I'll marry you. "

[negasonicteenagemess]

let’s do this one last time// peter parker imagine

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Word Count: 3.6k

Request: not requested, sorry about that. I have requests that are YEARS old so im sorry about that :(( but I hope you like it

so i understand throughout history that people of color were discriminated against but i included some of peter’s friends in specific periods

trigger warning: short instance of suicide

masterlist

circa 1000 BCE Greece

“You are far more beautiful than Aphrodite herself,” Peter mused, brushing Y/N’s hair behind her ear gently. Y/N giggled as she walked hand in hand with the man she loved, “I’m glad you think I’m more beautiful than your Aunt, Peter.”

He shook his head, watching his feet hit the ground, “she’s said to be the most beautiful woman in the universe. I would beg to differ.”

Y/N’s cheeks turned a deep red, biting her lip as she examined the jewels of a nearby shop. “You’re such an amazing man,” she unveiled, squeezing his hand. “Well, demigod, as my father would say,” he joked, looking up at the sky.

“Oh, please forgive me, son of Apollo. I did not mean any harm,” she dramatically exasperated. He smiled at the action, kissing her cheek. He enjoyed days like these, basking in the warmth of the sun, all thanks to his father, walking through Greece with the woman he loved. A mortal.

His mother, much like the love of his life, was a mortal who had fallen under the charisma and charm of one of the twelve Olympians. Peter enjoyed the mortal life, since it played a part in him meeting who he thought was his soulmate. But he could never run away from his godly powers. She was his world, and nothing would ever change that.

Y/N played with the leaves on one of the trees nearby. Peter thanked the merchant before walking a few steps towards his love, noticing something wrong as he watched her conflicted gaze. “What’s wrong?” He asked as he wrapped his arms around her waist to spin her around.

“Herakles is going to free Prometheus, and I-I want to help,” she nervously fumbled with the cloth on his chest, avoiding his gaze. Peter shook his head, backing up slowly, “no. Y/N I won’t let you. Zeus, he won’t approve if he finds out.”

Y/N sighed, “that’s why he is not going to find out. I am not going to do anything drastic other than help him find a ship to get to Mount Caucus. That is all.” She wrapped her arms around his neck, eyes slightly begging for him to say yes.

“I-I,” he wanted to respect her wishes, but he was afraid of what could happen, “that is all? Just the ship?” Y/N nodded her head at the question, playing the hair on the back of his neck.

“Please don’t get hurt,” he admitted, giving in. She smiled widely, planting a quick kiss on his lips. “I have to go meet him soon to lead him to the ship. I will be back before the sun sets today, so maybe we could meet where we always do?”

Peter nodded, kissing her forehead, “and I’ll be there, waiting.” Y/N smiled widely, excited.

Hours past after Y/N left with Peter waiting anxiously as his palms sweat with anticipation. He stood on the balcony of his abode, watching as the sun fell; Y/N nowhere in sight.

He waited until the moon held high above his beloved polis. He knew something was wrong, this feeling in his gut telling him so. While worrying about his beloved, Peter bolted to the only place he could think of that could possibly explain this.

“Zeus!” Peter shouted storming the gates of Olympus.

“Where is she? What did you do to her?!” Tears were running down his face, obviously distressed, knowing the answer that was most likely going to be revealed. Zeus stood, unamused and disinterested. “Prometheus created the mortals. Now, look at what they’ve become! They are monsters and all they do is kill each other.”

Peter clenched his fists, charging towards the man and pushing him into a wall. “Tell me where she is Zeus!” He shouted, his spit flying over the face of the center of Peter’s rage.

The old god pushed Peter away, and ultimately onto the floor, before he adjusted his clothes. “She was going to free Prometheus, so I sent her where all of the other souls go when they die; with Hades.”

“No,” he whispered, shaking his head in disbelief, “you’re lying.” He stood up from the floor slowly, weak with the new-found information.

“Her father was an acquaintance of Prometheus. She enabled Herakles to gain a ship. I had to stop her, Peter. Soon enough, I will stop Herakles too,” Zeus reasoned, not feeling anything for the boy and his lost love.

“You’re suppose to be a God of justice. Is killing an innocent just?” Peter screamed, getting into the face of the God of Gods. Anger, rage, despair, and disappointment were laced across his features.

“I will not be disrespected by a descendant of mine, especially one that’s only a mere demigod,” Zeus’ voice sounded through the entire mountain of Olympus.

Peter, clearly distressed, decided to run as far away from the place as possible. He ran until his feet burned, until cuts formed, until his tears blurred his vision when he finally stopped, dropping to his knees in a field of flowers.

His tears didn’t stop, possibly worsening as he admired the field of flowers around him. “She adored these,” he spoke solemnly to himself, the tears pooring as if they were rain.

He sat on his knees, covering his face with his hands, the ones that she loved to hold. From his belt, Peter brought up a sharp blade. He rubbed the tears in his eyes with the back of his hand, steadying his breathing.  

“We will meet again my love, under a new moon with new stars, we will meet again,” the man wept, holding the blade in his right hand. Shaking, he brought the blade up to his left forearm, making a swift gash into his velvet skin. He let out a gasp as the vivid red spewed from his veins and onto the flowers painting them red.

He let out a strangled sob as more and more tears fell, grabbing the blade with his left hand to repeat the same action on the other arm. A small, melancholic smile appeared on his lips, “see you soon, my beloved.”

Laughing bitterly in his own state of delirium from the blood loss, he laid onto the ground, laughs quickly turning to cries again then finally, into nothing as he closed his eyes for the last time. 1607 England

Y/N lied in a field on a brisk fall day wrapped in the embrace of the man she loved. “Peter,” she giggled into the English air as his lips attacked the entirety of her neck, his breath tickling her. “I can’t get enough of you,” he whispered in her ear, biting it playfully. She laughed, cupping his face with the both of her hands and bringing his face in front of hers. “You’ll be the death of me Peter Parker.” She leaned in, pressing her lips onto his as he held himself up on one hand with the other on her waist. He pulled away, piecing his thoughts together to plan what to say next. “What’s wrong?” Y/N asked with concern, brushing her hand on his jawline. He sighed, yet a hopeful look graced his eyes. “Hear me out,” he began, “what do you think about starting a whole new life together?” Y/N furrowed her brows, taken aback, “what do you mean, Peter?” He sat on the ground next to her, running a hand through his hair. “I love you so much Y/N,” he gushed as the girl beside him sat up. “I love you too,” she smiled softly, holding his hand in hers and looking deeply in his eyes to see the true sentiment. “Well, there’s talks about the new world, love,” he nervously spoke. She quirked a brow, intrigued by the topic. “We could go there and start on a clean slate.”

“W-Where would we go?” She questioned, her mind filled with the multitude of futures they could have together. “Well,” he cleared his throat, “there are so many places, but I’ve heard of Jamestown the most, or maybe Roanoke. People are fleeing from the King, so why can’t we? Your parents would never allow you to marry me. They don’t want their only daughter to marry a peasant’s son, so this is the perfect chance to start our lives.”

Y/N sat there, biting her lip and contemplating the idea. “You can take some of the money from your parents to pay for the tickets,” he spoke softly, looking at the skyline as the sun slowly fell.

“We can get married,” he grinned picturing their lives and nudging her, “and have children.” “Just you and me,” he whispered, squeezing her hand. She nodded her head slowly, “just you and me.” Peter smiled wide, “when do you want to set sail, darling?” He leaned in kissing all over her face. “As soon as possible. I want to get as far away from this place.” “Let’s do it then,” he mumbled, holding her in his arms yet again. (oMg ImAgInE PeTeR PaRkEr WiTh A BrItIsH aCcEnT) 1789 France “Y/N,” Peter shouted, running through the house with a huge smile on his face. “Today was a success! I was able to get enough money for food to give to the whole block. Our little ones don’t have to go to bed hungry tonight.” He held a hand on her waist, pulling her into a kiss.

“All I could muster is bread and apples,” he leaned back, taking the sack the he had on his back. “It’s all right love. You’re the city’s Robin Hood.” She smiled, rubbing a comforting hand on his forearm.

“Kids, your father’s home,” Y/N shouted through the small home. Before she knew it, the little children ran into the room, giggling the entire way there.

“How are my lovely little ducklings doing today?” He smiled brightly, bending down to meet their height. They wrapped their arms around Peter as he pressed them into his chest. Y/N exhaled, holding her dress as she crouched down. “They’ve been a handful today. Well, not really, but they kept asking me to tell them stories about you and your heroics,” Y/N swooned, enjoying the imagine of her little family.

“Well, you do what you can to help those in need, right kiddos?” The little boy and girl nodded their heads, still squished into their father’s chest. Peter smiled down at his children, kissing the tops of their heads. “You hungry?” He asked the pair as they cheered. Laughing he grabbed a couple of apples from his bag, handing them to his bundles of joy.

“Would you like an apple my love?” Peter stood as he watched his kids bite into the fruit. “Yes, I’d love one.” He tossed her the red fruit and watched her take a bite out of it. “Best apples in all of Paris,” she smiled, enjoying the sweetness. Peter chuckled, “probably some of the only apples in the city.” Y/N rolled her eyes, kissing her husband on the cheek before taking another bite.

This was their life. Trying to survive in a time of scarcity and tyranny caused by the King. It was hard since Peter was stealing from the richest men and women in all of France. He knew other people, much like his own family, needed food so he took it from the rich. At first, he felt bad for doing this, as it was a crime, but the more he kept doing it and seeing the smiles on his neighbors faces, he couldn’t let them down. It’s what he had to do to help his family and other survive in the troubled times.

But things quickly turned from bad to worse for Peter. He ran through the streets as he was being chased by the police. Running was the only thing on his mind, he couldn’t get caught, he shouldn’t have been so careless, but it was only a matter of time before this had happened.

“Y/N!” Peter shouted, bolting through the place he called home. She quickly walked towards the sound of her worried husband, concern lacing her features.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” She cupped his face with both of her hands as he dropped his bag. “I-I messed up. I got cocky and- and I got caught.” Tears fell down his face at the realization of what was to happen. Y/N’s eyes widened, pulling him into a tight hug, never wanting to let him go.

She shook her head, “Peter it’ll be alright.” It sounded more like she was trying to convince herself than him. “No, it won’t be!” He shouted his features suddenly harsh. He saw the look in Y/N’s eyes; fear, as she backed away.

“I don’t want to leave you Y/N,” he whispered, leaning his head on hers, “but I think we both know what’s going to happen,” he spoke solemnly. “Where are the children?” She bit her lip, tears escaping her eyes, “in their room upstairs.”

Before he left, he pressed a quick yet passionate kiss onto her lips as their tears fell on each other’s delicate skin. Peter ran up those stairs, wanting to embrace his children for the last time.

“Hi lovies,” he greeted, obviously distressed as his children were oblivious to the situation. They sat there, playing with their dolls, smiling brightly up at their father. Peter walked towards them, crouching down to their level. “Listen, daddy’s going to be away for a while. I don’t know when you’ll see me next,” his eyes filling up with more tears at the thought of them growing up without him, ”but I love you both, so so much.”

The tears continued to fall as he pulled his children towards him. “What’s happening?” The little boy questioned into his father’s chest. Y/N stood in the doorway, watching the solemn interaction that her family was forced to go through. A loud banging interrupting their goodbye.

Peter turned to look at Y/N, tears welling up in his eyes. He sighed, standing up and walking towards the room’s exit, “it’s them.” He looked down at his shoes, biting his lip.

“I love you both, so much,” he spoke as the banging and shouting continued. The kids knew that something bad was happening, chorusing ‘I love you’s’ and immediate questioning him. But he didn’t have time to answer.

Peter walked downstairs with Y/N quickly following his footsteps. Peter pressed his head against the door, letting in a slow deep breath. Opening the door, he was bombarded with shouting as men grabbed him from his home. Y/N stood in shock, hands covering her mouth as if to hold her sobs in.

All she heard was white noise as she watched their mouths move with no words escaping them. “Y/N,” Peter spoke loudly, getting her out of whatever trance she was in. “I love you, so much. I’m so sorry,” he cried, his hands being held together with tight rope.

“W-Where are you taking him? Where is he going?” Y/N pressed the policemen, getting closer to them but only being held back. “The Bastille with all of the other criminals,” one of them responded. It felt like she had lost her breath. The rumors of that place made it sound so horrible; it isn’t the lace for Peter Parker.

“No,” she whispered as she watched them drag her husband away from the house. “I love you,” she shouted as they moved onto the street and away from her sight.

1941 New York

Peter sat on the hood of his car in front of the school, grabbing Y/N by her hips to sit her on top of his lap. She laughed, wrapping her arms around his neck and leaning in to kiss his lips. “Don’t flip your wig, Parker,” MJ spoke as she approached the two teenagers. The bell rang, indicating that class was about to start. “Come on, I gotta run by my locker,” she stood up, taking his hand and dragging him away. He chuckled, “alright, alright. I’ll catch up with you. My bag is still in the car.” Y/N nodded her head, kissing his cheek and quickly walking inside. MJ sighed, walking next to the boy who had just opened his car door. “Have you told her?” She interrogated. Peter slammed the door shut, looking at her puzzled. “Told her what?” He questioned innocently, genuinely confused. MJ looked down at her shoes uncomfortably as she fiddled with the edge of her school dress, “about the war.” His eyes went wide, looking around him to make sure no one he knew heard. He shook his head, getting close to her to express his thoughts, “keep your voice down.” They stood quietly, awkwardness filling the air around them. “You have to tell her,” MJ looked into his eyes, stance not wavering with the statement. He nodded, looking everywhere but at her. “Let’s just go to class,” he mumbled, his mood dramatically shifted.

Being around Y/N automatically made him feel better. They’d share looks during class, her smile widening whenever he caught her staring. He’d smirk and tap his pencil on the wooden desk, shaking his head and diverting his attention back to the teacher, but the thoughts of the war were looming over his head.

He didn’t know what to do. His whole life practically flashed before his eyes as he shut the passenger side door of the car that his girlfriend was now in. He tortuously walked to the driver’s side of the vehicle, opening the door to get inside. He sighed as he slammed the door shut watching Y/N fiddle with the ends of her dress.

“Peter, are you alright? You’ve been acting odd since this morning. I-I’m kind of worried,” Y/N wasn’t great at expressing her feelings as she looked at her lap fiddling with her thumbs.

Peter didn’t want to look at her. He wanted to pretend like none of this was going to happen. He just wanted to be a normal teenager for crying out loud.

But he knew this conversation was inevitable as there was nothing he could do to prevent any of this.

“There’s something I gotta to tell you doll,” Peter spoke nervously with his hands still, planted on the steering wheel. “They’re sending me away,” he closed his eyes at the sudden confession, wanting to open them and find out that this was all a dream. She scrunched her brows, examining his features to try and figure out what he meant, “w-what are you on about?” He let out a breath, lowering his hands from the wheel and slowly opening his eyes to look at her, “I got drafted.” Tears filled his eyes as he watched her face fill with understanding. “I’m going across the fucking world,” he chuckled dryly feeling the water cascade down his face, “to fight in the stupid fucking war!” He shouted this now hitting the wheel in pure frustration, mad at the world and his terrible luck.

Y/N’s eyes widened at his outburst, still in disbelief. “W-What? What about school? What about college? W-We were supposed to graduate together, go to the same college, have these perfect lives together.” Her own eyes began to water, feeling bad for him and the things they’d both miss out on together. “I’m so sorry,” he sobbed, leaning into her shoulder. She grabbed his hand with her own. The other hand brushed the tears off his face with her featherlike touch as similar droplets left her own eyes.

“Mark my words doll,” he sniffled leaning back and admiring her now red eyes, “when I get back, you’ll be walking down the aisle.” He sat up, rubbing his thumb on the back of her hand.

“And you’ll wear a big poofy dress,” he smiled, images of better days displayed in his mind. “And you’ll have a big diamond ring. You’ll be able to see your reflection in it.” Y/N beamed, her tears quickly drying up.

“And we’ll be okay.”

2016 New York (alright guys, let’s do this one last time)

“Yeah, ma I know,” Y/N spoke into the phone that was pressed between her ear and shoulder with both of her hands pilled with groceries. “I picked up some stuff from the store after school so you don’t gotta worry about that after work.”

“Love you too, see ya when you get home,” Y/N bid her farewells, hearing the sound in her ear that her mother hung up. “Shit,” she whispered as she realized she couldn’t get her keys or her phone from their respected spots.

She stopped in front of her apartment door, pausing to mull over her options. She sighed, stepping back while she simultaneously bumped into someone. “Oh god,” Y/N exclaimed as the bags in her hands fell to the ground. She heard something bang on the floor, noticing that it was too heavy for it to be hers.

The person behind her steadied her by holding her waist to make sure she wouldn’t fall, “woah.”

“I’m so sorry” Y/N profoundly apologized with wide eyes as she turned around to face a very, very attractive boy her age.

“Don’t worry about it, happens to the best of us” he smiled, bending down to pick up the objects. Y/N did the same, picking up a few textbooks. He looked at the food on the ground, picking up what he could as the brown bag holding the goods was now ripped.

“Thank you,” they both said in unison, blushes appearing on both of their faces.

She looked up at him as the both of them stood up, “H-have we met before?” Peter shook his head, “I don’t think so.” Y/N smiled at his nervousness, finding it quite adorable but also relieved as she felt the same way.

“I’m Peter by the way. I live right down the hall.” He pointed down the corridor, at no door in particular.

“Y/N,“ she smiled, thinking that she might actually have a chance with this guy.

[atombombbagel]

WHAT DO YOU THINK ROMANCED COMPANIONS WOULD BE LIKE WAKING UP ON CHRISTMAS MORNING AND WHAT GIFT WOULD THEY BRING SOLE IM YELLING BECAUSE IM THINKING OF ALL THE CUTE FLUFF STUFF

Okay sooo, this wasn’t written by me but by my good friend @fantomofthehiddles, who did a super good job at this masterpiece. It’s under keep reading because it is long and amazing :P 

[[Damn, Iturned this into an f!Sole before I realised what I was doing. So sorry, I’lldo better next time, I pwomise! ;__;]]

[[Also,sorry this turned to be as long as an average Ghoul lifespan…]]

Sole awoke one morning to find the worldcovered in snow. At first, she felt surreal, like in the old world, like justin a second she would hear Shaun shifting in his crib, crying for his mommy.But it wasn’t Nate who was still asleep next to her, and it wasn’t 2077anymore. It was just the thick layer of snow and halos of icicles hideverything that, up till now, did a very good job of reminding her the worldhad changed: ruined houses, dead trees with broken branches, ubiquitous debris,and even the yelloweed grass. She reached for her Pip-Boy, as she did everymorning, accidentally turning the knob to “Data”, and if it wasn’t for that,she wouldn’t even realize it was 25th of December already. And thenit hit her: this would be her first Christmas without Nate, without Shaun…without her family.

Cait

“Hey,darlin’, you okay?” Cait sat up next to her, wrapping the bedding around hernaked body to protect herself from the crispy tang in the air. Sole put her armaround her and nodded mindlessly, though the words “yeah, I’m fine” somehowdidn’t want to leave her throat. Cait’s eyes wandered to the Pip-Boy. “Oh, it’sChristmas, ain’t it?”

Solelaughed softly, though didn’t really feel it. “You forgot? Really?” She didn’tmention she would have almost forgotten it herself.

“Hey, whenyou haven’t any real holidays yer entire life, they just slip by.” She soundedalmost angry, but then she looked to the side, maybe even blushed a little, andsaid, “Well, I ain’t gonna spend it complainin’. I’m glad I have me darlin’ toshare it with.” And with a kiss on Sole’s cheek, she jumped out of bed andopened the trunk she kept her things in. “Here. I made this for ya. I know itain’t much, but… I’m not as good with me hands as you are.”

Sole turnedthe bladed knuckles in her hands. They were chrome-finished, polished to ashine, and the blades were so visibly sharp Sole didn’t feel the need to check.On the bottom, on the surface that would rest against her palm, Cait had engraved:“Give ‘em a taste, love” in surprisingly elegant letters. Sole started tosuspect she had had Sturges help her with these.

“Not much?”she teased. “I love them. Come here.” She pulled Cait back to the bed and gaveher a kiss, which soon turned into a much hungrier and sexier make-out session, until they finally pulled away, albeitwith some effort. “Now, what do you say we go for a walk to the Combat Zone andmake Tommy spend Christmas with us? And we could have MacCready come with us.”

Cait lookedat her in such surprise, she didn’t even notice her eyes teared up a little.“Nothing would make me happier, luv.” And after another second of staring atSole’s face in wonder, she smiled with clear, unbridled joy, a smile Sole sorarely got to see on Cait’s face, and said, “It’s nice, y’know, having afamily.”

Curie

“I havenever seen snow before, did you know?” Curie said, standing at the window,staring at the white roofs of Diamond City’s buildings. Sole walked over to herto embrace her from behind. She put her chin on Curie’s shoulder, looking out atthe view, and suddenly all the hard work she’d put into installing the windowwas worth it. The fluff was still falling, slowly, gently drifting to theground, clinging to the Christmas lights drawn across the square, and thechildren played below, having a snowball battle without care for any collateraldamage to walls and passers-by. 

Sole dug her face in Curie’s neck, stifling acry as she realized she would never get to see Shaun, real Shaun, playing like that. She did adopt the synth Shaun,mostly for Curie’s sake; Curie, upon learning about the feud between theRailroad and the Institute, and how everyone else played into it, had been veryconcerned about how their relationship could be viewed by others. How Solecould be ostracized or even persecuted for loving her. How maybe she didn’treally like being with a synth. So Sole adopted the kid to calm her doubts,show her she really cared; but there was still a nagging voice in the back of hermind making her constantly aware that the ten-year-old boy, now running aroundTakahashi’s noodle stand in order to get a better angle at the ‘enemy team,’wasn’t her real son. Even though he acted like one and loved her like one. Hewasn’t her own.

But peopledidn’t know that, except for select few, like Curie, of course, or Nick who hadhelped her find Shaun in the first place, or X6. Everyone else though shereally did find her son at the Institute. Well, they weren’t really wrong.

“As much asI love this, ma belle,” Curie said,pulling Sole out from the dark corners of her mind, “we must get going. He havea lot to do today! You promised me carolling, remember?”

“I do,”Sole replied reluctantly. Oh, Piper was going to have a field day with them.

“Butfirst,” Curie continued, obviously ignoring her tone, “I have made a veryspecial gift for you, mon amour!” Shescuttled through the room, leaving Sole completely dumbfounded. They’d beenspending every waking moment together for weeks now. When did Curie manage toget her a gift without her noticing? And a hand-crafted one, at that? “Here,unwrap it! I read that unwrapping presents used to be an important traditionbefore the War. But I’m afraid I had to use pages from a children’s book. It iscolorful, yes?”

It wascolorful, and pretty. So much that Sole tried her best not to damage thepackaging too much, but Curie didn’t seem to mind. What emerged looked somewhatlike a leather collar, black, and quite elegant. There was a round piece ofplatinum at the front which seemed to have a purpose beyond just being adecoration.

“It doessomething, doesn’t it?” Sole asked, throwing Curie a mistrustful glance.

“Yes, see,if you put it on and press this button, it releases a mild chemical which willstop pain conduction from the neck down. It should make it more comfortable foryou to tend to your injuries in the field, when I am not there to help.Professor Scara helped me with the technology. She said it is called ‘achoker’, even though I don’t see why. Still, very useful, no? And I think youwill look very mignonne in it.”

“Oh, Curie,”Sole said, almost crying for some reason. “You’re the most amazing woman I’veever met. Thank you.”

“I knew you would like it!” Content, sheopened the window to shout: “Shaun, monpetit cœur! It is time to come home!” And as she turned back to Sole, “This shouldbe an interesting experiment. We should start with the Science Center, no? Myco-workers should be thrilled to have us.”

Sole turnedthe choker in her hands, feeling the texture of the soft leather, before sheput it on the side table. There would be time to test it later. Now, she wasabout to spend Christmas with her family.

Danse

“What was that about?” Sole heard Hancock’s voiceoutside the window.“Hell if I know,” Nick replied, they voices getting quieter as they walkedaway. Sole looked out the window to find Danse standing on the porch.

“Whathappened?” she asked.

“I smiled,”he replied, causing her to choke with stifled laughter. “And I told them ‘MerryChristmas’. I don’t think they liked it.”

“They wereprobably just surprised,” she said before walking out to the porch with him andpromptly shivering in the cold. Note to self: winter is not the time of year towalk out of the house in nothing but a nightgown. “Oh, shit, it’s cold.”

Danselooked her up and down. “That is indeed the case when you stand barefoot in thesnow.” Had he said it, he picked up against her protests that everyone wasgoing to see—

“It’s justfor a second,” he cut her off, dashing to the building across the street. AndSole, holding on to his strong, broad shoulders, suddenly didn’t mind. He sether down near the fire. “I actually have something for you that might be theanswer to your problem.” And from a locker, he pulled out… Maxson’s battlecoat?

“Wh… Pleasetell me you didn’t go back to the Prydwen to kill Elder Maxson for this,” shestuttered out, but as Danse began shaking his head with amusement, she noticedthere wasn’t any blood on it, and in fact, there weren’t any sign of wear atall.

“If I did,I wouldn’t be standing here right now,” he replied. “It’s just…” Shock onSole’s face deepened. She had never heard him not finish a sentence before.“You used to joke about how much you liked Maxson’s coat, so I thought I shouldmake one for you. Like I said once: if you want something, say it, and I’llmake it happen.” And he wrapped the coat around her bare shoulders, and shemarveled at how warm it was, how well it fit her, how even the lining was justright, and how…

“You madethis? On your own?” She still couldn’t believe it, even holding the damn thing inher hands.

“Well, theyalways encouraged us to work on our uniforms, and turns out, leather isn’t muchdifferent. I hope you like it.”

“Oh, Danse,I love it!” She jumped into his arms again just to give him a deep kiss. Andfeel his biceps, because why not. Danse in turn embraced her waist and huggedher close to steady her. She could feel his firm chest on hers even through hisclothes. As always, it made her remember Nate, just like every time Danse puton his power armor, she remembered Nate in his, and, just as always, shecouldn’t help thinking about how lucky she was. This is where she’d alwaysbelonged: in a soldier’s arms. “Thank you so much, hun’.”

Dansestumbled back into the wall as he put his forehead against hers, closed hiseyes, and momentarily lost his balance a bit; but Sole wasn’t worried. Even ifthey had fallen, Danse would make sure she landed safe on him. Nevertheless,there was something desperate in how he longed for her touch.

“Honey?What’s going on?” she asked gently, her hands against his face. He squeezed herwaist harder, to the point it almost hurt, but then he set her down again.

“I want totell you how important this is for me,” he said softly, looking straight intoher eyes. His fingers played with a strand of her hair, almost as if on theirown. “The last real Christmas I had was… all the way back in Rivet City, withCutler. Later, when we joined the Brotherhood… There always seemed to be moreimportant things to do. Holidays just seemed… silly. We’d give each other smallgifts for a few years, the even that stopped, and then he…” And now, for thefirst time since always, she heard his voice break. She rubbed his face withher hand, trying to give him some sort of comfort. He took a breath, thencontinued, “I just want you to know, this means a lot. Those memories withCutler are some of the most precious ones I have, and I feel blessed to be ableto add to them with you. You make me feel the same way he did: like I have afamily again.”

Hancock

Sole turnedand looked at Hancock, still sleeping soundly, his scarred lips slightly partedin steady breaths. His eyes were moving as he mumbled something in the linesof, “what the fucking fuck happened to this mutfruit?” Sole should havelaughed, but somehow, it only made her feel worse. She didn’t want to wake himfrom this obviously thrilling dream, but… She snuggled up to him, put her headon his bare chest, the warm ridges and crests scraping against her cheek. Ifshe felt chilly before, that was now completely replaced with the heatemanating from Hancock. She clinged to him with her entire body, blamingherself as he stirred awake.

“Hey,sunshine, what’s going on?” He threw his arm around her, squeezing her waistreassuringly.

“I’m sorryI woke you. I didn’t—”

“Come on,getting to spend more time with you? Nothing I’d like more In the world.” Hekissed her forehead and she nuzzled her face into his neck, breathing in hisscent. “So what’s up? Why are you like this? Come on, it’s Christmas.”

“I know…”

“Oh… Ohh.”He pulled her up onto himself until she was on top of him. He cupped her facein his hands, placed another gentle kiss on her lips. “I love you, Sole. I knowit’s not enough to fill the hole your family left in you, b— No, shit, don’tcry.”

Solecouldn’t help it. She clung to him again, bawling all over his shoulder,suddenly so overwhelmed by every bad and good thing she felt, she couldn’t holdit in anymore. She’d been gathering it up for the last three months, nevertalking much about it, never letting it out, because in this world, everyone’slives sucked, and most of them much worse than hers. She had it good, comparedto some. And she really did believe she’d left her old life behind, since thisone was, surprisingly, so much simpler. But apparently not.

Hancock heldher close, rocking them a little as he brushed her hair and gave it a fewkisses. She still couldn’t believe how well he understood, even though she knewit was killing him inside to see her still pining for the husband she had lost.For a dead man. Unless she found a way to truly put Nate out of her mind,Hancock would always feel like he does now: like he comes second to her. Andyet, he remained at her side, loving her unconditionally. Saying how he didn’tdeserve her, when truly, it was her who didn’t deserve him.

“I loveyou, too,” she said finally, having regained control over her shaky breathing.“And I’m so, so sorry.”

“Now, don’ttalk crap like that.” Hancock brushed her hair aside as she raised her tear-stainedface to look him in the eye. “You had a rough year. Rough two hundred years.You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.”

Shesnuggled up to him again, suddenly unable to speak again. Hancock gave her amoment which he seemed to enjoy just as much as she did, and then said: “Okay,that’s enough of being two emotional wrecks, we need to get going,” as helazily slapped her ass.

Sole satup, too surprised to throw him a black look. “What? Why?”

“We’rehaving a Christmas party at the Third Rail. Didn’t I tell you?” She shook herhead. “I could swear I told you. I did tell you to bring a dress, didn’t I? Well,anyway, it won’t be much of a party without everyone’s favorite mayor making anappearance, so why don’t you just…” And then he bluntly rolled her off of him.Sole, with a pained sigh, kept rolling until she almost fell off the bed andscrambled to her feet.

“Oomph…fuck.” She leaned against the wall, feeling her head explode, but like, in thedistance.

“Youalright?”

“Just a bitdizzy. And a headache.”

Hancockcame over to kiss her temple, but snorted along the way: “You’re spending waytoo much time with me.” But then a thought occurred to him and he frowned. “Ormaybe you’re sick?”

“Bullshit.I’m just tired.” As soon as she could move normally again, she began dressing,much to Hancock’s theatrical anguish. “It’s not like last night brought me muchsleep, exactly…”

“Yeah,sure, make it all my fault,” he teased as he pulled on his coat and fastenedthe belt across his chest. “You little vixen, you.”

Solechuckled. It absolutely was not his fault. He had just about fallen asleep whenshe’d decided to jump his bones. Oh, the poor bed.

Afterseveral minutes of him constantly interrrupting her as she tried to getdressed, they finally went down to the Third Rail, where the entire populace ofGoodneighbor was already gathered. As soon as Hancock walked in, everyonewelcomed him with an earth-shattering ‘huzzah!’ raising their glasses, which,as Sole suspected, were full thanks to his generosity. Oh, how easy it was tomake these people happy. Hancock waited for the commotion to die down—someonehanded him a glass of wine in the meantime and Hancock now thumped hisfingernails against it.

“I’d liketo make an announcement,” he said. “One a bit more elaborate than my usual ‘ofthe people, for the people’.” Everyone cheered anyway. “Okay, okay. Come on,folks. I just wanna say that Goodneighbor may have started as a place, but nowit’s about you. The people. Without you, there would be no Goodneighbor. And itmakes me more happy than I can say to be able to call myself your mayor andcall you my family.” Cheers and ‘aww’s broke out again.

“We loveyou, too, Hancock!” a man shouted.

“Now, now,don’t get too familiar, Joe, you’re not my type.” Hancock winked and Sole couldswear at least half the crowd pretended to faint while the rest laughedheartily. “Not to mention, and here we’re coming up on the second part of myannouncement that most of you probably know, I’m already spoken for.” Sayingthat, he pulled Sole in closer. The crowd cheered on, albeit less loudly, andsome of them murmured in an unsurprised agreement. Sole’s eyes met MacCready’s,who was sitting at the bar, and he smiled and put his glass up to her.

“Now I’dlike you all to come see the gift I got this one. Y’know, in hopes she’ll makegood use of it and come visit us a little more often.” People laughed again,and then most of them followed as Hancock led Sole out with his hand on herwaist.

“What thehell did you do, Hancock?” she murmured, blushing. For someone who got involvedin so much, she didn’t necessarily like being the center of attention.

“You’llsee, sunshine,” he replied in that low voice of his. Son of a bitch. Theywalked out into the cold, crispy air, smelling of smoke and winter. Snowcrunched beneath their feet as they took a left turn around the corner of theOld State House… and then she saw it. A beautiful silver vertibird, clearlyfreshly washed and polished, was sitting on the roof of Hotel Rexford. Anenormous red bow was somehow tied around the pilot’s cabin.

“What thefuck? John? What the actual fuck?” she stuttered, and he only stood there andgrinned proudly. “You can’t be serious! Whaa… How did you even…?”

“You knowhow Gunners will do anything for caps?… Yeah.”

“Do went tothe Gunners?!”

“More likecontacted them via a messenger, arranged a meet on neutral gr… Oh, stopfreaking out. They’re pretty reasonable when they hear the caps jingle, andthey do keep their gear in good condition.” Sole was still shaking her head athim with her eyes widened in honest shock, so he continued, “What was Isupposed to do? Go to the Brotherhood?”

“How aboutget me a smaller, more… manageable gift?”

“Stopwhining.” He kissed her to shut her up. Some of the more intoxicated partyerscheered them on as they rode the line between propriety and shamelessly makingout in public. Hancock pulled back a little, but still stayed close, and whenhe had her so close, his rough hands on both sides of her head, suddenly therewas no one else in the entire world. “It’s your fault, you know. Should neverhave said you’d like one of your own. You should’ve known I’d strive to make ithappen.” Sole let out an incoherent babble, hiding her red face in her hands.Hancock laughed and kissed her forehead. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s go spendChristmas with family.”

 BONUS:

As theydescended back into the Third Rail, this time led by a small group of drunkNeighborhood Watch guards, singing a bawdy song as they stumbled down thestairs, Hancock and Sole were suddenly approached by Magnolia.

“I wantedto say, I’m happy for you two,” she said before they could even greet her.“You…” She put her finger on Sole’s chest. “You are one hell of a woman. Iwould know.” She winked and laughed with that perfectly calculated chuckle.“Take care of him, dear. And you, Hancock—don’t fuck it up.”

“Oh,Magnolia. I would never.” Again, with unbridled joy, he kissed Sole’s templewith such exhilaration, she couldn’t help but laugh. But she also couldn’t tearher eyes off of Magnolia’s fiery gaze. There seemed to be something else.

“But,still, in memory of old times…” She threw Sole a meaninful look, making herblush again, as she reached underneath her dress to take out a small package.“I’d like you to have this. I think it’ll suit you well.” And, saying that,Magnolia left a kiss on Sole’s cheek and went on to take her place at themicrophone and entertain the crowd as only she could. Sole opened the smallpacket to find a ruby-eyed ring with intricate engravings around the socket.Hell, it seemed to be older even than her. She stared at it in disbelief untilHancock gently took it from her.

“Well, I’llbe damned.” He said only before slipping it on her finger and then placing analmost theatrical kiss on her hand. “Now, milady… Shall we dance?”

Solelaughed and let him lead her down to the main room of the Third Rail. No onepaid much attention to them anymore, busy with their own friends andactivities. Only Whitechapel Charlie dipped his hat to them as they went past.They found a fairly quiet corner in MacCready’s VIP room, and as they dancedslowly to Magnolia’s voice seeping under the door, singing her specialinterpretations of the Christmas carols, Hancock embraced her close and kissedher neck gently, sending warm shivers down her spine. Until he suddenly jerkedhis head up.

“Wait. Whatdid Magnolia mean by ‘old times’?” he asked, watching her carefully. Soleblushed at the memory of Magnolia’s scent and deft fingers.

“Nothingmuch, love,” she said immediately, but Hancock’s grin made it clear he figuredit out anyway. She laughed at the face he made. Hancock kissed her deeply, andthen instead of dancing, she was in his arms again as he put his hand on theback of her head and refused to let go. And when they pulled back, they wereboth panting hard, and she could see his thoughts written clearly on his partedlips and lustful gaze.

“Goddammit,John,” she said immediately. “We are notdoing this in MacCready’s room with everyone on the other side of the door.”

“Mm, you’reright…” he mumbled, but still didn’t let her go. “But why not?”

MacCready

She allowedherself several minutes to shed a few tears over the life she used to have, butthen a pitter-patter of small feet sounded in the short hallway, and she hadjust barely enough time to wipe her face in the bedding before Duncan ran intothe bedroom.

“IT’SCHRISTMAS!” he shrieked in a tone that nearly burst her eardrums, jumping ontothe bed. “And there’s snow! Have you seen?”

“Yes,” shechuckled, as if immediately healed by his child-like excitement. “You wannahelp me make the food?”

“I would…”He sat up and wrinkled his nose with an undecisive pout. “But I’d also like togo outside… I mean, there’s so much SNOW!”

“Right, youusually wouldn’t see this much, would you? Okay, then, why don’t you getdressed warm and run down to Miss Alice and get some razorgrain and fruit?Actually, take whatever she’ll give you, your dad will probably figure out ause for it.”

She waitedfor Duncan to say, “Oh, okay, I guess” and leave to get dressed before sheburst out laughing at her own unintended sexual innuendo. Fuck, four days isapparently way too long.

Just anhour and half later, they were both in the kitchen, preparing dough for thecake she had promised Duncan probably a couple of weeks ago. Brahmin wasalready marinating, carrots and silt beans cooking; she even prepped the cornwhen she got bored as the dough was rising. Now she was trying her best to makesomething resembling chocolate icing with the odd-tasting brahmin milk, sweetrolls, sugar bombs, and a pinch of coffee. It wasn’t going so well.

“Duncan!Can you please not?” Sole shouted, gently pushing the boy’s hand away from thedough. “Come on, would you rather eat raw dough or a chocolate cake?”

Duncan wasthinking for the longest time before he finally said, reluctantly, “Cake…”,even though he was still eyeing the dough longingly. Sole sighed. “When isDaddy going to be back?” he asked then, and the way he said ‘Daddy’, like hestill couldn’t believe the word even as it left his mouth, tore Sole’s heartout of her chest. Well, shit. She didn’t need it anyway.

“Soon, Ihope,” she said as normally as she could, but she couldn’t help to glance atthe time. RJ had left their house at Sunshine Tidings a few days ago to go finda gift for Duncan. He’d said he would come back in time for Christmas dinner,hell, that he’d even help her make it, but it was already past noon and hestill hadn’t come home. Fuck knows where he went in the first place. He mightbe dead in a ditch somewhere, chewed on by molerats, or… worse—torn to shredsby ferals. She found herself wondering what she’d do if she had to tell Duncanthat, and then take care of him alone. Would she even be able to?

Don’t thinkabout it, she told herself. It would be okay. She sent Strong to go with RJ,and these two were pretty much unkillable together. RJ probably miscalculatedthe time it would take them to get to Goodneighbor and back with Strong slowinghim down a little.

“Why don’tyou go play with Dogmeat outside?” she asked Duncan, seeing the internal battleover the dough play out clearly on his face. “Just dress warmly and becareful.”

“Okay,” hebeamed up at the idea, got ready in the matter of seconds, and shouted “Comeon, Doggy!” as he rushed out the door. Dogmeat slid off of his couch, stretchedcarefully, and followed him out, his muzzle drooping like he wanted to say,“gosh, I’m getting too old for this,” even though he was barely four.

But soonSole could see the dog rolling in the snow so zealously he rolled off a hilland stopped only at the water pump, hitting it with a yelp. Duncan ran to checkup on him, but Dogmeat got up without trouble and immediately knocked the kidoff his feet and into another heap of snow. Sole chuckled to herself before shewent back to her fight with the icing.

It wasn’tlong before Duncan rushed back inside, red-cheeked and shivering, but stillwith a huge grin on his face. Dogmeat soon followed, covered in snow so snuglyone couldn’t even tell he was a German Shepherd anymore. He stood in the middleof the living room and tensed up.

“Oh, no,no, NO!” Sole managed to shout out as she ran to kick him out to the porch, butshe was too late. Dogmeat shook it all off on the beautiful rug she’d restoredwith such effort. Goddammit. “If youthink you’re getting back on the couch, young dog, you are very mistaken,” shesaid strictly. “You stay here in the mess that you made.”

Dogmeatwhined with his uncanny understanding and indeed sat his tail down on the wetrug. That probably wasn’t the best course of action, Sole thought, but she couldn’tback out of it now. She put some wood in the fireplace before going back to thekitchen.

“And you,Duncan, go change and please hangthese wet clothes near the fire, but not inthe fire, okay?”

Duncannodded and ran off. She still wasn’t over how much energy that kid had. But,she supposed, it was normal for children. She’d just never had a chance towitness it before. Her eyes teared up again, and she told herself it was fromthe heat of the cooking.

Duncan sooncame back, got himself busy with some toys, but then eventually ended up on therug with Dogmeat anyway. Sole watched them amused as Dogmeat rolled onto hisback to get some belly rubs, and Duncan, scratching him with one hand, drovethe toy car on his chest with the other. And when the toy inevitably fell offthe steep slope of a dog’s ribcage, Duncan reached over him for it and Dogmeatshamelessly licked him in the face. Duncan, caught by surprise, jumped backwith a surprised shriek before he laughed. Sole smiled. There was probably nothingmore joyful than a small child’s laugh.

“Aww, Ithink he likes you,” she said and Duncan giggled even more. Dogmeat pushed hishead under Duncan’s hand and the two were promptly playing together again.

Only a fewminutes had passed before the door opened again with another wave of cold airblowing into the house. Sole turned away from the stove just as Duncan yelled:“Hi, Daddy!” and ran to get a hug.

“Hi,buddy,” RJ said, putting his arm around him, and then promptly giving Sole anapologetic look. “I’m sorry it took so long, we—”

“Oh, shutup,” Sole cut him off and ran over, rising up to her toes to finally kiss him.His lips and cheeks were awfully cold, but she didn’t care. “It doesn’tmatter,” she said as she pulled away, sliding her hands down his chest. “Aslong as you’re okay, it doesn’t matter.”

“Yeah, I’mfine. The snow surprised us a little. Some places, it was up to my waist and wehad to improvise. Have you ever had Strong give you a piggyback ride?”

“Wha—”

“Look,Daddy!” Duncan spoke up, having long gone back to playing with Dogmeat on therug. He was now climbing over Dogmeat’s back while the dog not only suffered itpatiently, but even seemed to enjoy it. And just as RJ moved to get him to stopin fears that he’d get hurt, Duncan continued delightedly: “And Mama said Doggylikes me!”

Thatstopped RJ dead in his tracks. Sole, too. Duncan had never called her thatbefore. RJ turned to her slowly with an odd expression. She didn’t know what tomake of it. Was he angry? Did he think she made Duncan say it? She shivered. Orwas he just in shock that after barely a month, his little boy was already…? Hewent over to the kitchen table, stiffly, sat down… and just started crying.Sole froze. Duncan didn’t notice there was anything wrong, thankfully, so whenshe could move again, Sole grabbed him by the arm and pulled him to thebedroom, saying, “Let’s go get you changed out of those, you’re freezing.”

It wasn’tthat she wasn’t shaken, especially with how Duncan just threw it in there, intoa normal sentence, like it was the most regular thing in the world. And thetruth was, he had never called her anything before, really. Somehow, thatfive-year-old kid managed to navigate every conversation in a way that allowedhim to avoid calling her anything else than ‘you’. So this did feel like a.50-caliber bullet to the chest.

But RJ wasin such state that all of that now faded away. He slumped to the edge of thebed like he got deflated, and immediately hid his face in his hands. Solekneeled on the floor next to him and could see tears glistening between his fingers. She rubbed his knee, but couldn’tfind any words to say. Only after a long while filled only with RJ’s stifledsobs and the quiet sounds of Duncan’s play coming from the other room did Solemanage to let out a sad sigh and whisper, “RJ…”

“I’m sosorry…!” he whimpered, barely keeping his voice down as he collapsed entirelyso that Sole had to embrace him and prop him up on her shoulder, or he would’vefallen off the bed.

“No, no…”she said, but he didn’t seem to be listening anymore. He just went on.

“Oh, God… Ijust never expected him to…” He held on to her for dear life, and thedesperation and pain behind his cries made her tear up, too. There was somethingsqueezing her throat already. “It’s been years… Years… And I stopped believingI’d ever hear him use that word again… And the first time I do, I think, ‘no,it’s not her’. Oh, God, Sole, I’m so sorry…”

“Don’t be,RJ,” she could barely hold her own tears back. Something about the way he criedresonated deep within her and she couldn’t help herself. “I’m not trying tofill Lucy’s shoes. I don’t expect you to forget about her, I know you stilllove her.”

RJ wassilent for a longer while, clearly trying to regain his composure, before hefinally pulled away and looked her in the eye. He seemed calm, but his eyesbetrayed the freshly opened wounds he suffered from. “I do. But I love you,too. And I didn’t like feeling like that—angry, at my little boy. It wasn’t hisfault. He probably doesn’t remember Lucy at all…” His voice broke again, andSole had to blink away her tears. “It’s not his fault. It just… hurt, you know?Like she was being erased and… I didn’t know what to do. I’m sorry, Sole.”

“You don’thave to apologize, babe. I get it.”

Hesniffled. “…I know. You always do, don’t you?” He kissed her forehead, his handon the back of her neck as he pressed his lips against her skin. He then puthis cheeks to hers and stayed like that for a while. “I still remember it, likeit was just last week. Lucy was playing with him, holding him on his lap, andwe talked about something… the crops, I think? And suddenly, that little boyraised a toy in his hand and just said, ‘Mama!’… It was the first word he eversaid.”

Sole feltwhat was left of her tormented heart drop to the bottom of her stomach. “I’msorry,” she said. RJ looked at her in surprise, so she explained, “I feel likeI took that away from you.”

“No.” Hisvoice was suddenly adamant, as if seeing her crying, in pain, made him switchinto protector mode again. “No, you gave my son a home. If he’s able to acceptyou as his mother…”—even as he said that, his voice trembled, “I should behappy. It’s not your fault, and definitely not his, that I can’t handle moving on.”

“You’redoing just fine,” she reassured him with a smile. “As long as we love eachother, we’ll figure everything else out.” He nodded, but she could clearly seeshe made him emotional again. She wiped her face, completely covered in tearsshe didn’t even feel. “Wow,” she mumbled, “we are a pair of tragic messes.” RJlaughed softly, but only held on to her hand as she stood up. “Come on,sweetie. You promised to cook.”

And thatfinally tore a real, honest chuckle from his throat; Sole beamed up alongsidehim. They went back to the kitchen, hand in hand, but before she managed to puthim at the pots, RJ hurried to the duffel bag he had left near the door.

“Hey,Duncan,” he said, “do you wanna see your present?”

The boyjumped up from the rug, letting out something that only vaguely resembled avery loud ‘YES!’. He rushed to the table just as RJ was putting the duffel bagthere and asked, “Is that why you were gone for so long?”

“Yeah,buddy. Had to go get the best for you.” And with that, RJ reached into the bagand pulled out… a BB gun. Sole blinked in surprise. She didn’t expect him to dothat sort of thing, not after all those times when he said he didn’t wantDuncan to have the same life he did, full of violence and blood. But thenagain, was there really any other life to be made in the Commonwealth?

“I know, Iknow,” he said, seeing Sole’s surprised gaze. “But he needs to learn to protecthimself, and the earlier, the better, right? Besides, I mean, it’s just a BBgun, it’s not like he’s going to turn into me…”

Duncan,after doing a round around he house holding the small rifle like a commando,ran back and stood at the table, looking somewhat distraught. Sole took amoment to admire the worksmaship of the weapon. Even if it was just a glorified toy, the barrel was sleek black and the buttpolished to a shine, and there was something special in the way it was built.It must’ve been a unique. And she had no doubts RJ cleaned and oiled it atleast three times on his way back.

“Isanything wrong, love?” she asked noticing Duncan didn’t really know how tostart.

“No, Imean, I really like it, but…” He sucked his lips in, then pouted again. “I wanta scope, too.”

RJ glaredat him, like he wanted to say, ‘NO, YOU DON’T’, but before he could, Sole cautiouslyasked, “Why?”

“’Cause Iwanna be just like Daddy when he shoots.”

Solestifled a laugh, which was an especially difficult task, given RJ’s surprised,almost betrayed face in front of her. “Sure, Duncan,” she said. “We’ll figuresomething out tomorrow, how about that? And for now, just go and play with it,learn how it feels. Okay?” And as Duncan shuffled away, she looked back at RJ.“I think you may have miscalculated a bit, love.”

“Thatlittle…” He shook his head. “You do know it makes no sense, though.”

“Of course,but what harm could it be? I’ll make him a detachable short scope. Let him havefun with it, even if the gun’s range isn’t nearly enough.”

RJ sighedand only then stopped making faces in disbelief. He threw her another odd look,but this time it was one of the good kind. “I have something for you, too,actually,” he said, but before Sole could protest, he added, “it’s not much,don’t freak out. Just a memento, I suppose.” And then he took out a necklacefashioned out of an old silver chain and a rifle round, and placed it in herhand.

“What’sthis?” she asked, feeling like an idiot. RJ said it was a memento, so sheprobably should recognize it from somewhere, but she just couldn’t place it.But he didn’t seem to mind.

“It’s thefirst round I shot after taking up with you. We encountered some raiders on theway to Diamond City? You were taking cover in front of me, and just as I wastaking aim, you stood up with those brass balls of yours and just went at ‘em.Distracted me so much I completely missed. I picked it up afterwards—at first,I was supposed to use it again, but then it just sort of traveled with me andnever found a way into my rifle. So…”

“It’sperfect,” she said, “I love it. Can you…?”

Evenfastening the necklace on her, RJ couldn’t help but make excuses. “I know it’snot much, but…”

“Hey.” Sheturned around and put her arms around his neck again. “It doesn’t matter, love.You already gave me the best Christmas gift I could ever dream of: a family.”

Piper

Solepromptly put it out of her mind—there was a lot to do. She woke Piper with akiss, the kind that made her murmur and stretch, and then put her arms aroundSole’s shoulders and pull her in for continuance. Her house in Diamond Citywasn’t big, but with Sole only dropping by from time to time when she managedto steal away from her other duties, it was more than enough. And even thoughit was insanely early for both of them, they already heard Nat bustling arounddownstairs.

“Wow,” Solesaid. “She got excited for Christmas.”

“Nat?Never,” Piper replied, getting out bed and rushing down the stairs, still onlyin her shirt and shorts. Sole took a moment to appreciate her legs and the waythe oufit showed off certain parts of her, before finally getting dressedherself and following her.

“MerryChristmas!” Nat, wearing an apron, shouted at their sight way more joyfullythan Sole had ever heard her speak. She didn’t even put down the ladle when shehugged them both warmly, and then went back to cooking. Piper looked like she’dbeen hit by lightning.

“What isgoing on?” she whispered to Sole as they went back upstairs to get dressed.“Did the Institute take her.”

“Stop it,”Sole laughed. “It’s just the holiday cheer.”

“No,seriously, Blue… I’ve never seen her act like this.”

“Trust me,she’s just possessed by Christmas spirit.” Piper didn’t seem entirelyconvicted, but Sole couldn’t really offer her anything else. She still hadn’ttold her she’d decided to take over the Institute in order to make it betterfor the people of the Commonwealth. She had no idea how Piper would react. Soeven though she knew firsthand Nat was not swapped and that, in fact, no onewould get swapped for a synth ever again, she wasn’t going to tell her that onChristmas morning. “Look, if she still acts like this after the holidays, then you’ll have a reason to be worried.For now, just enjoy it. Come on, she’s cooking for us.”

“Yeah,that’s what worries me the most,” Piper mumbled. “But okay. I’ll put aside mymistrustful journalist nature aside… just for today.”

“Goodgirl,” Sole teased and kissed her again. “Now, come on, I wanna give you yourgift.”

“No!” Piperjumped in immediately. “Me first!” After which, she darted back downstairs withSole close at her heels.

“Really,you should probably see what I got f—” She didn’t finish as Piper pushed a boxup to her face like a little excited girl. It was flat, but quite big, with abig blue bow around it. “Okay…” Sole said as her brow raised, and Piperimmediately got all flustered and adorable.

“O-Okay,maybe I got a little bit too… But I just… Oh, just open it.”

So Sole didand inside she found a… a scrapbook? Well, it was definitely hand-made, withpages glued to the leather-bound cover with wonderglue, probably, and even thecover seemed to be taken from some other book. But it didn’t matter, becausewhen Sole opened it, she found pages and pages and pages of photos of her and Piper, and even some of the others,all from the time they spent traveling together. There was her conversationwith Nick, and here how she went to the mayor’s office, and on the next pagewere even photos of her breaking into Kellogg’s old house… But somehow, ‘thisreporter’ managed to keep herself from captioning every single one, insteadsettling for just a few sarcastic remarks here and there, like the one thatsaid “Justice served hot” at the photo of her going at some raiders with aflamer. Sole felt like she was about to burst out laughing, but instead shejust stood there in awe.

“You… Youwere taking photos the entire time?” she stuttered out, then raised her gaze tolook at Piper’s flustered face.

“Yeah, Imean… Didn’t you ever notice?”

“I… I don’tknow, I guess I didn’t. I mean, I saw you photographing everything else, justnot… me.” She went back to flipping through the pages. Here was their time atCovenant… There, their trip to Vault 81… And at the very end, on the last page,was only one photo—the one they’d made together at the beginning of theirrelationship, here in Diamond City, laying in Piper’s bed as Sole kissed hercheek and Piper couldn’t help but blush and laugh. And the caption said only, “HowI knew”. Sole felt tears pricking at her eyelids.

“Thank you,Red,” she managed to push through her tightened throat.

“You’rewelcome, Blue.” Piper looked like she was about to burst into tears herself,but held herself bravely as she pulled Sole in for a hug. They just couldn’tstay away from each other, could they?, Sole thought, burying her face inPiper’s hair.

“Hey, youtwo lovebirds, how about some help here?” Nat suddenly shouted from the otherside of the room. “Do I have to do everything alone?!”

Piperpulled away from Sole, sniffled; wiped away a tear hanging from Sole’seyelashes; and then she chuckled and said, “Gotta love family, huh?”

Preston

By the timeshe managed to gather strength to get out of bed, the entire town was buzzingwith people gathering up near the tree at the round square. She got dressed andfollowed suit, only to see Preston helping the settlers up several ladders tohang decorations from the branches. She kinda liked him in a position ofleadership. There was just something… something else to the way he distributed tasks among everyone, keeping thembusy, until the entire town worked together to make the most of this Christmas.It honestly warmed Sole’s heart as she walked towards them and people greetedher with happy voices and ‘Merry Christmas’es and ‘good to see you’s.

“Hello,General,” Preston said a bit sheepishly as she approached, even though his facewas sporting a wide grin.

“Hello, myFirst Officer,” she replied cheekily. She could swear he blushed a little, butthankfully, with him, only she was able to tell. “You’re having fun,” she addedas she motioned to the people around.

“It’s reassuringto see people come together and forget about their troubles on a day like this.”He smiled softly. He was talking about the settlers, but he looked only at her.Then he turned his face to the sun as his gaze drifted away and he said,“Everyone’s so cheerful and carefree.”

“What aboutyou?” Sole put her hand on his cheek to turn his face back to her. She didn’teven notice when they’d moved closer to each other, to the point where it mightstart being really uncomfortable to everyone around. She didn’t really care.“How is it today?”

“Could bebetter,” he said, and she knew he meant it was awful. “I mean, last year…”

“I know,”she stopped him before he could fall into that abyss again. “I know.”

Prestonkissed her forehead, drawing comfort for having her close. Or at least that’swhat she thought, given that it was exactly what she was doing.

“I’m justglad we found each other,” he said.

“Me, too.”

They stayedlike that for another minute, linked in that intimate embrace, as everyonebustled around them, shouting and laughing. The sun falling on the decorationscovered the ground around them in colorful flashes.

“Come on,”Preston said eventually, pulling away from her, though with clear effort. “Iwant to give you your present.”

“Shouldn’tyou keep watch on your lemmings?”

He blinkedat her. “What’s a ‘lemming’?”

Solepaused, staring into the distance. “Nevermind,” she replied eventually. “Oldworld stuff. Lead on, then. Where did you hide it?”

“Like I’mgoing to tell you,” he smiled at her. “Where would I hide your future presentsthen? Just wait here.” He left her at the porch of their house as hedisappeared behind the one across the street, but then he was gone for so longshe couldn’t tell where he went anymore. Bastard.

And then henearly gave her a heart attack when he came up from behind her saying, “Well,what are you waiting for?” As soon as she was done shrieking, she slapped hisarm as he laughed. Oh, it was so nice to see that poor man laughing. “Come intothe house, love. It’s there on the counter.”

And whenSole looked, she saw a fully modified laser musket laid out in the kitchen,obviously custom made, repainted in blue and white, and with the Minutemen logolovingly engraved on the side. She picked it up gently and turned it in herhands, marveling at the handiwork.

“You saidyou didn’t like the muskets for how long it took to wind them up, so I figuredout how to make it automatic,” Preston said, coming up and embracing her frombehind. “Do you like it?”

“Huh.” Sheput it to her shoulder and let go a quick series of lasers through the openside door at the wreck of her old car that was still standing on the drivewayeven though she was supposed to break it down to pieces probably like twomonths ago. But, well, it turned to ash in a matter of seconds now, so… problemsolved? She threw Preston a glance over her shoulder just to see his perplexedface. Oops. Seems he didn’t expect her to just start shooting it right away. “Ilove it,” she said cheerfully, and bent herself awkwardly to pull him in for akiss. Preston shook his head leniently, but gave in to her and they spent thenext few minutes passionately making out in the middle of the living room asSole only tried not to drop her new gift on the floor.

“Now,”Preston said when they finally ran out of breath and had to pull away, “time toget back to our family, huh?”

[ellohcee]

Alright. Your writing is amazing and Im a complete sucker for angst, soooo #17, ladynoir, post-reveal potentially? Thanks hun!

Sorry it took so long, took me a bit to figure out which direction I wanted to go with the prompt, but here it is! It’s not super angsty, but I got a little of everything in there so I hope you like it!

- - - -

50 Prompts

#17 – Promise

Miraculous Ladybug

Prompt List

- - - -

“I’ll always be by your side.”

It’s a statement that sends chills upher spine, as if a cold hand trails spindle fingers across her skinto leave goosebumps in their wake. She wants to believe him, with allof her heart, because she’d like nothing more than to always face theroad ahead with her partner. He is her strength, her pillar, and hersunshine. Ladybug can’t imagine life without him in it, his beautifulsmile and ever present optimism.

But, as much as this promise fills herheart with joy, it also forms a pool of dread in her stomach. How canhe know? How can he be so certain that he’ll always be there? Notthat she expects him to ever desert her willingly. No, it’s hisdetermination to protect her that scares Ladybug the most.

Chat Noir is always so immediate tothrow himself in harms way, taking hits for her, being thedistraction, drawing the danger and painting a giant target on hisown chest. On one hand she loves him for how brave and selfless heis, but the way he acts it out terrifies her. Hawk Moth is learningfrom them, taking in every defeat with unbridled anger but alsoputting it to use. Every Akuma seems to get a little closer, landharder blows, give them more of a run for their money than the last.It’s a constant dance, a deadly waltz of push and pull, dangernipping their heels like a constant presence. And one day, she fearsit will catch them, and he’ll throw himself in harms way like always.

Just last night she woke in a coldsweat from nightmares, haunted by the images in her sleep. It hadbeen after a close call with that day’s Akuma. A barber, enraged by agreedy customer feigning discontent and smearing the name of hisbusiness, akumatized to become Close Shave. The transformed civilianwields a huge barber’s blade, sleek and sharp and blinding them byreflecting flashes of the midday sun.

Chat had a close shave indeed, blockinga swing that had been aimed for Ladybug by deflecting it with hisstaff. But it strayed far too close, grinding against the staff andsending a shower of sparks from the contact. The blade ended upcatching his forearm along the way just before narrowly missing hisface. Ladybug had screamed, pure, unbridled rage and fear, as bloodseeped from the cut in his suit and ran down his arm, swinging heryo-yo out to wrap around the surprised Akuma.

After the fight, she stood tremblingwith fading adrenaline, clutching his hand in her own and making surethere was absolutely no trace of injury after the fix. “Really, I’mfine,” he tried to insist, but she merely glared down at his armwith tears in her eyes, bringing his feeble assurance to a halt. Shewanted to yell at him, tell him that was stupid and reckless, but shecouldn’t find the words as her throat was too tight. So she gave hima punch in the shoulder, then a tight hug, and ran off without aword, surely leaving him confused.

Later she tries to put it from her mind, toforget the sight of blood running down the leather of his suit, butit will not leave. She feels nauseous a few times imagining what couldhave been, how close he’d come to something much worse, and has tolie down more than once. That night her sleep is plagued by terribleimages, of how things could have gone, and if her fix works on moreserious injuries. In her dreams, it does not. In her dreams, he islost.

These nightmares are the reason sheslumps into her seat at school the next morning, tired and aching anda subtle sway to her body when she tries to sit still. Her friendsknow something is up, but she’s thankful she doesn’t look as terribleas she feels. “Marinette, are you okay?” Adrien asks, startlingher out of nearly falling asleep moments after sitting down. Her bodyflinches upright, an all-over sensation akin to a jolt ofelectricity.

“Ah, y-yes, I’m fine,” shestutters, her heart beating rapidly. For once it’s not becauseAdrien’s talking to her, but for being jolted out of that near sleepstate. She’s too tired to be nervous or embarrassed from those greeneyes watching her, she just wants to set her head on the desk. Somehazy passing of time and the cool stinging of her forehead makes herrealize she’s actually done it. They’ve given up talking to her,maybe assuming she’s fallen asleep in the few minutes before class.They’ll wake her when it’s time.

But suddenly her blood runs cold in herveins, because Alya’s going on about the Akuma attack yesterday andoh there’s a news report about it.Of course there would be, and of course Alya would be playing thevideo. She listens in an uncomfortable fog to the sounds of theirfight, feeling herself dragging down into the depths of sleep. Butsomewhere in the haze of her exhausted mind she hears the sharp hissof metal and Chat’s yell of pain that causes and immediate andviolent churn of her stomach. Marinette stands abruptly and hurriesout of the room, afraid she might be sick as she heads for thebathroom.

The exhaustion fromrunning on a mere 3 hours of sleep opens the door for her full bodyreaction. When Alya finds her in the bathrooms, Marinette is pale andshaking, a cold sweat over her body like she’s just woken from one ofthose terrible nightmares. “Marinette, geez, are you okay? You looklike you’re going to pass out!” Alya exclaims in worry, hoveringover her where Marinette leans heavily over the porcelain sink.

“No, I can’t…”she trails off, another wave of nausea hitting her hard.

“I have to takeyou home, you look terrible,” Alya says softly. “Can you walk? Doyou need a minute?”

She does, sheabsolutely does, so she nods stiffly. Alya looks worried, she’s neverseen her friend so disheveled. “I’m going to go tell Bustier I’mwalking you home, and I’ll get your bag, okay? I’ll be right back.”

Her hands trembleon the sink, and she wonders why this is affecting her so much, sostrongly, as if her heart were about to break. Is it the lack ofsleep making her overreact, or is it something much more? Her headspins just a little, and after several moments, she whispers into thevast silence of the bathroom. “You can’t be by my side if you keepputting yourself in danger, Chat,” she grumbles softly.

“And I can’t beby your side if you get hurt.”

Marinette’s headwhips up so fast that everything spins, and she almost falls overbefore hands are suddenly under her arms, keeping her from hittingtile. That’s definitely not Alya, the hands are bigger, and she fallsagainst a firm chest as her rescuer supports her. Her heart poundingin alarm, she trembles in their grasp because everything is stillspinning so she has no idea who’s touching her.

“Woah thereblondie, girls bathroom much? Thanks, but I’ll take it from here.You’re lucky you stopped her from kissing the floor, otherwise I’dbeat your ass for being in here. Go on, shoo!” Alya berates theperson, steering Marinette away from that comforting figure. Is thatChat? There’s no way he’s here…

But whenMarinette’s vision clears and she peers over Alya’s shoulder, shesees Adrien there, and her heart nearly stops. There are so manyemotions in his gaze, surprise, recognition, worry, love, that itsends a jolt through her body to realize it was him who’d startledher in the bathroom. And it was him who’d spoken those words.

He’s wide-eyed andalmost out of her sight, and just before they round the corner, hemouths something that looks suspiciously like ‘it’s you.’

- - - -

Later that nightthey meet up for patrol, Chat Noir ghosting across rooftops until hefinds her, slowing to a halt. He stands hesitantly a few feet awaybefore approaching, looking concerned. “Hey, you okay Bug?” heasks softly, peering at her from under wild bangs. “You look…um…”

“Terrible?” shegroans, running a hand down her face. “Of course I do, I hardlyslept. And today…” she trails off, as if questioning the realityof what happened in the bathroom. Was that really Adrien under themask?

Chat blinks. “Why?”

“Why?” sherepeats, incredulous. “Because of you!” she snaps, startling him.Normally she’d feel bad for causing that kicked kitten look on hisface, but she’s too exhausted to care. All of her pent up worry andfrustration she hadn’t verbally communicated yesterday swells like aflood. “Because you- jumped in front of me like that yesterday andgot yourself hurt because of me- And the nightmares! I kept seeing-You- and the knife-”

She doesn’t realizeshe’s started to get worked up until Chat wraps his arms around herin a hug, trying to calm her down and rubbing a hand up and down herback. “Hey hey, it’s alright, I’m okay, you fixed me up!” heexclaims quietly, feeling her exhausted body start to slump in hisembrace. He’s not sure if Ladybug is actually calming down or if thatbrief burst of angry energy is wearing off. Her arms raise up toweakly return the hug, and his chest tightens with worry. “Are yousure you should be out? Today in the bathroom…”

“So it wasyou,” she whispers in amazement. “I wasn’t sure if I had beenhearing things, or I misunderstood…”

“Yeah, sorry I…after you ran out, you looked so sick, I walked in right as you saidthat and I just kind of blurted out… I’m really sorry, I didn’tmean to,” he rambles nervously, wary of disappointing her forruining their shared anonymity.

“Don’t be,” shewhispers softly, making him blink.

“Really?” heasks, surprised.

Ladybug nods weaklyas he lowers them both to sit on the rooftop. “I… know it wasbound to happen eventually, there’s no denying that. The onlyquestion was whether it would be an accident, or when it becamesafe,” she sighs, making his eyes light up at the implication. “ButChat… I… need you to promise me something.”

He leans forward,claws digging into the palms of his gloves in barely concealed glee.“Anything, My Lady.”

“Please, youcan’t keep… trying to take all the hits for me,” she whispers,making his face fall. “Yesterday rattled me so badly, seeing youhurt like that because you were trying to protect me… I can takecare of myself!” she suddenly exclaims hotly, making him lean backin surprise. “But also, I could never live with myself if somethinghappened to you because of me. In the last 24 hours I’ve nearly hadthree full mental or physical breakdowns because your arm was gaugedopen. I’ll lose it if anything ever happens to you,” she admitssoftly.

Chat swallowsagainst the lump in his throat, feeling the full force of his loveand joy battling against the terrible feeling of upsetting her. “Wellyou know the same is true for me,” he says quietly.

“Then let’scompromise,” she demands. “Instead of you trying to take hits forme all the time, yank me out of the way! I can take hits Chat, soplease, no more human shield! You promised to always be by my side,right? Then be by my side, not in front of me. You’re mypartner and my friend, but you’re not my sacrificial lamb. Okay?”she pleads, taking one of his hands in her trembling grip and lookinghim dead in the eye.

Chat is strucksilent by the expression on her face, her eyes trembling in so manyemotions that he feels like he’s been sucked into a gale of hurricanewinds. His heart skips a beat before coming back to a painful tempoin his chest. He’s not used to seeing her so desperate, pleading withhim when she’s usually self-assured and confident. He wants to sayit’s worth the risk if he can keep her safe, but seeing her so hurtand worried over him breaks his heart. How can he say no? He takes aslow breath, before carefully setting his free hand atop of hers.“Okay,” he finally relents, seeing the wash of relief floodthrough her instantly. “No more sacrificial lamb, for your peace ofmind.”

“Thank you,”she sighs, leaning forward abruptly to hug him. “You stupid cat,”she grumbles in finality, making him laugh.

“My Lady,” hesays in a sudden fit of joy, holding her tight against his chest.“I’m so glad it’s you,” he whispers into her hair, the pleasantswirl of emotion humming in his chest.

Ladybug smiles, andfor the first time since she’d temporarily hated him, she’s notstuttering around Adrien. It’s hard to be nervous anymore because her‘perfect’ dazzling crush is really a giant goofball in cat ears, andthat thought makes her want to laugh. More importantly, he’s been oneof the best friends she’s ever had and he’s secretly been at her sidemore than either of them realized. And that one makes her eternallygrateful, seeping into her voice without restraint as she responds.“Me too.”

“You’re also gladthat you’re you? Or you’re happy that I’m me?” Chat teases.

“Shut up youdork,” she laughs, pushing him over.

[wayward-demons]

Game For Anything Pt. 19

Word Count: 1,552 Warnings/Notes: None, sorry its so short, and sorry for the long wait. but like... it will be worth it for the ending next chapter! (im not ready to end it :( ) Tags: @crawegirl @nea90sweetie @littlegirlsdontplaynice @queen-of-moons-peace-out-bitches @gaysmutstiel @xolyssaaa @uruburock13 @lisa-horn@jencharlan @fangirl1802 @spn-4-eva @hey-um-misha  @grumpymoonbird

((if you want to be added to the list just let me know))

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 /  Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10 / Part 11 / Part 12 / Part 13 / Part 14 / Part 15 / Part 16 / Part 17 / Part 18

“Sammy, we have a problem with the potion… we need Randy’s blood.” Dean said, entering your bedroom. He found you sitting on your bed with Sam facing you. his fatherly look on his face that told Dean he was being sweet, but trying to ask you a million questions on the sly.

Sam coughed, :I’ll be right back Y/N. Just stay right here.”  Sam rose, and you could feel the bed give a little from the loss of his weight. He shut the door gently behind him, pulling Dean into the hall. He didn’t say anything till they were a few steps away, knowing that you could hear him even from this far. Probably still could.

“We gotta talk about what’s going on.” Sam started. He glanced back at the door, not quite sure how far he needed to go to be out of your ear shot.

“What’s to say?” Dean shrugged Sam’s hand off his shoulder. “She’s a vampire. And we need to cure her. We have to.” His voice was deeper than usual.

Sam shook the hair out of his eyes. “I know that Dean. But-“

“Okay, but the problem with the potion, spell, whatever.” Dean interrupted him, raising a hand and walking farther down the hall. “We can’t exactly cure her without Randy’s blood. I think I still have some on my clothes, but who’s to say that’s his and not any of the others we killed. It’s kind of a long drive. It’s not like we can’ just turn tail and get some.”

Dean was rambling, and Sam was letting him. Letting him fill the air with his string of nonsense words. It wasn’t as if you couldn’t hear them, you could. But with all the other noises in the air you were trying your hardest to pick one to focus on.

You lay down. How much longer were you going to let them try and find you a cure? How long till you told them the change had already happened? How long do you wait to tell Dean it was you who had bit him?

Sam steered the car with both hands. Knuckles white as he drove quickly down the road. He was closing as much distance as he could between himself and the vampire nest they had just destroyed. He was lucky for once that they hadn’t burned the place down. That they had run out so fast there wasn’t a chance to take care of the damage like normal.

He glanced at his phone, content with the fact that it hadn’t lit up yet. If it had Dean was in trouble, and he would need to turn tail and get back as soon as he possibly could. But would it be quick enough?

Dean walked into your room, once again hesitant. “Y/N? It’s just me. Lil’ ‘Ol Dean Winchester.”

You lay in bed, in and out of sleep. “Y/N? I don’t know if you know this, but I’ve been turned before.” Dean wasn’t sure you were awake or listening. “It was scary. I remember it. I remember… the hunger.” Dean sighed. “I almost hurt…” his mind started to spin with memories. “Never mind.”

Dean sat on the edge of your bed. “I don’t know what I am doing in here. I guess I don’t want to leave you alone. Even though that’s probably the safest thing for both of us right now. Y/N…” Dean sighed. “I can’t believe this happened. We should have gone after you as soon as you left. Not sat around twiddling our thumbs.”

You tried to lay as still as you could. Your heart beating inside your chest. Dean kept talking, about nothing and yet about something. His voice was blaring in your ears until you turned over so quickly you forced yourself on top of him.

You could feel his body heat against your skin. Could hear his heart beat quickening. You licked your lips, face close to Deans. “Dean shut up.” You ordered. You lowered yourself, pressing your body harder into Dean. “Just.” You whispered. “Shut.” Your hands squeezed Deans wrist, keeping them in place. “Up.” Your tongue licked his neck, salty and sweet.

“Y/N, don’t do this.” Dean tried to free himself of your grasp, quickly remembering how strong new born vampires were. “Y/N you don’t want to do this.” He could feel his wrists starting to bruise. Could feel his skin growing sore from both him trying to escape and your squeezing.

Your new teeth started to show. They slowly poked through your gums; sharp and deadly. “Oh but I do. I want to taste you again. It was so good before.” You could barely recognize your own voice, it was deep and commanding.

Deans attempts to free himself grew stronger. Suddenly your hands gripped him so tight they went numb. You switched, raising his hands above his head, holding them with one hand. Your free one ran a finger down his jaw line. “You’re so… Yummy.” You uttered.

You pressed yourself harder on Deans lap. His face seemed confused, turned on by the fact that you were all but grinding yourself on top of him, but afraid of the new vampire wanting to suck his blood. You turned his head until his neck was exposed and ready for you. Dean’s heart couldn’t beat any faster, but for a moment you heard it skip one beat. “Stop fighting Dean. It sounds, and feels, like you like this.”

Dean stopped kicking his legs. His whole body stilling while he lay there under your command. “It’s not enjoyment. Its fear.” Dean grit his teeth together.

Dean acted so quickly you didn’t know anything had happened till you were suddenly under Dean. Now he held you down, his legs binding yours. His hands holding your wrists. His body still close, closer than ever before.

“You don’t want to do this Y/N. This is just the vampire in you talking. Not you. You’re still Y/N, you’re still you. Don’t forget that.” Dean looked scared. Dean looked worried. Dean looked like he cared. You’d never seen this look. Dean always looked so calm, collected, and stern. Never so weak before.

You were entranced by Dean, not even bothering to fight as you lay under him. Your ‘human’ brain kicked in. Dean was on top of you. Deans chest was pressing into yours. You were on top of Dean. You could feel Dean. For the first time in a day you had forgot about being a vamp and suddenly were overwhelmed by the fact that a boy, Dean Winchester, was on top of you.

“D-Dean.” You croaked, trying to cower under him. “Dean.”

It took a moment for Dean to realize what it was you were suddenly nervous about. “Sorry Y/N, I- I didn’t mean to-“ Dean stammered, letting himself rise a bit so he wasn’t touching you so much. He was just hovering over you. His body still warm. And for a second time you could hear it skip a beat.

“I’m sorry Dean. I don’t know what’s going on with me. I just…” Tears started to pour out of your eyes until your vision blurred. You could barely breath, choking every time you tried to inhale. “I just-“

“It’s alright.” Dean climbed off you, rising you so you were sitting up at his side. He held you close and rocked you back and forth. “You’re going to be alright. Sam is out getting the blood we need for the spell.” Dean stopped.

The spell. The spell to stop vampirism in its tracks. It needed a bitten, the biters blood, and you not to of fed on someone. Dean let that sink it. You not to have fed before. “Y/N, did you- is this from you?” He pointed to the bite mark on his arm. The red and puffy scabs that have been picked off thanks to his boredom and nervousness.

You gulped. “Randy bit you, and forced me to drink it. Dean I didn’t mean too. It wasn’t what I wanted.” You tried to argue, but Dean was already on his feet and a few steps away from you.

He drug his hand over his mouth and let that sink it. You’d tasted him, you’d had his blood. You were an actual vampire now. “It makes since I guess. I mean, normally your eyes… and the-“ Dean sighed. He wasn’t willing to admit it fully. He still wanted to hope, to pray even, that you were still not a full-on vamp. That the spell would still work on you. But suddenly he was nervous, suddenly he wasn’t so sure on what the next plan of action should be.

Sam walked up to the house slowly, blade at the ready in case he found another stray vampire here waiting for him. The house was grand, rooms on both sides of him for what seemed like ages. He tried to remember which room you were in. Tried to remember where he had found you hovering over Dean’s body. And then he hesitated.

He found the room. Randy’s head cut off with fly’s buzzing around it. Sam scrunched his face before stepping foot into the room. He pulled out a syringe and tapped into the source itself until it was full.

[marblesarelost]

Some Things You Have To Work For (don’t give up on the Dream)

(Author’s note: I honestly had no idea that changing my Tumblr name would make this disappear.  My humblest apologies.)

(Author’s Note: I love soulmate tropes. In this universe, there are two types of soulmates: platonic and romantic.  Platonic soulmates’ words are written in silver on one’s skin once activated. Romantic soulmates have golden words, once said.  This will be a serial, updated on the last week of the month.  Hope you enjoy!)

 The only sound  for miles around was that of the night birds and bugs, and Kurt’s soft humming as he did the supper dishes.  Logan settled a little better into his lawn chair, fishing pole in hand, beer between his legs.  Yep.  Things were good.

“Is this what you always do?”  Nightcrawler called through the screen door.  “When you go off on your rambles?”

“Not always,” Logan admitted after a minute.  “I like this best, though.”

“Ja.  I can see why.  It is beautiful here,” Kurt replied softly.  

“Peaceful.  It helps with…things.”  Logan shrugged, sitting up a little; the slouch was starting to hurt his back.  “Mind bringin’ me a fresh beer when you come back out?”

“Almost done,” came the promise, and Logan settled back again for a second before a new scent crossed his nostrils, bringing him up and out of the lawn chair in an instant, a low growl rising in his throat.

“Logan?”  He heard Nightcrawler say, but he didn’t respond, holding his hand up instead in the team sign for wait, quiet.  He sniffed again, tested the wind, judged the angles, then gave the sign for come, quiet, trusting that Kurt would sneak instead of teleport, since there wasn’t a way to dampen the noise.  A minute later, he felt the give of the dock behind him.

“Somebody’s down the shore,” Logan said quietly.  “I can smell their adrenaline, they’re trying to work themselves up into something, but they’re scared.  They’re real scared.”

“So you would frighten them more by having me come outside?”  Kurt whispered.

“You only look scary, Elf. You got a better way with folks than I do,” Logan replied.  “Come with me an’ do the talkin’.”

“Mein Gott.  How do I let you talk me into such things?”  Kurt grumbled, but he followed Logan down off the dock onto the path beside the lake, both of them well able to see in the dark.  They moved quickly and quietly, Logan leading them up into the patch of underbrush and Kurt careful to put his feet precisely where Logan had as they went.  Logan held up his hand again, and crept forward, a little further, little further…

The girl leapt at Logan like a wild thing, fists flying, kicking, biting, but the old brawler whirled her around, picking her up and holding her as she writhed and struggled. "Calm down, little bit, we ain’t gonna hurt ya,” Logan said, before that telltale sound rang through the forest.  

SNIKT.

“Logan, no!”  Kurt shouted, bursting through the underbrush as Logan dropped the girl, blocking -- “Mein GOTT!”  

Two blades gleamed in the half-moon’s light, swinging wildly at Logan, whose own claws rose to block hers. She stopped then, backing away, looking at Logan with a face neither man could read.  “Shiny, sharp,” she muttered.  “Shiny sharp.”

“Oh, hell,” Logan said, and dropped to a knee.  “No. No, I won’t kill another. No.”  He retracted his claws, watching the girl.  “Hey.  Hey there.”

“Hey,” she repeated. Kurt got a good look at her then; her cheekbones were  sharply accented, her cheeks sunken.  Her shirt was at least three sizes too large, and she held the waistband of the pants she wore tightly, the pant legs raggedly cut, and she was barefoot.  She was at least a teenager, he thought, but he wasn’t precisely sure.

“Hey.  You got -- you got writing on you, honey?  Words?  Written words?”  Logan asked softly.  “Can you tell me your name?”

“Words?”  She said, and Logan nodded, keeping his gaze fixed firmly on her.  

“Yeah.  Words.  Writing.” He reached down with one hand, tugged his shirt up over his belly, exposing the silver words written there. “See?  Like this?”  The girl dropped to her knees, crawling forward slowly, looking up at Logan with wary eyes every other second.  “I won’t hurt you if you don’t hurt me, baby girl,” he rumbled.  Tentatively, the girl reached out with one finger, tracing the words on his skin.  “You know what it says?  Can you read?”  She shook her head, sitting back on her haunches.  “It says, shiny, sharp, shiny, sharp,” Logan told her.  “Your first words to me.  Do you have words?”  In answer, she tugged up her left pant leg, showing Logan’s scrawling handwriting winding around her leg.  “Yep. Those are my first words to you. Silver, like mine,” he said. “Means we’re gonna be real good friends. You know what friends are?”

“Friends,” she repeated, still sitting there in a pistol squat position.  “Friends.  Not hurt.”

“Yep,” Logan agreed. “Can you tell me your name, little bit?”

“Name?”  She cocked her head to the left.

“What do people call you? I’m Logan,” he said, pressing one hand to his chest.  “Logan.”

“Not doctor.”

“No, baby,” Logan agreed, his lips curling back from his teeth in a feral snarl.  “No doctors.”

“Doctor talk.  Doctor talk, X-23 successful.  X-23 weapon.  Doctor talk X-23.”

“The doctors called you X-23?”  Logan asked in a low growl.  “They didn’t even give you a goddamn name?”

“X-23.”

“You ain’t a number. You’re a person,” Logan snarled. “Did you run?  From the doctor?”  She nodded fiercely.  “Did you get’em, baby girl?  Did you make’em bleed?”  A snarl to match his own crawled across her face as she nodded again.  “Oh, good job, dolly.”  Logan swallowed.  “Okay. So.  You want somethin’ to eat?”  

“Yes…” her voice trailed off as she looked to the side.  “Please?” She added uncertainly.

“Yep.  Come here, I’ll carry ya over these rocks, some of’em are sharp as hell.  You like fish?”

“Fish?”

“Swimmies.”  Logan pointed to the lake, made a side to side motion with his hand, and she smiled.  

“Swimmies, fish. Yes.”

“Okay.  Come here,” he held out his arms.  “Promise, we’ll get you some fish, let you take a bath with bubbles, get you some clean clothes, you can sleep in a nice soft bed.” Slowly, she crept forward, and Logan picked her up like a princess, leaving her hands free.  “Jesus, you’re too skinny, dolly.”  He turned to where Kurt stood at the edge of the forest. “Go get Chuck, Elf.  I think we’re gonna need him.”

“Jawohl,” Kurt agreed. “I think you are right.  Take her to the cabin, I do not wish to startle her with the noise and smell.”

“Good plan.  Come on, dollface.  Let’s get some food.  You like chocolate?  I think I got some Oreos, too,” Logan said, and began to make his way down the lake shore back to the cabin, its lights gleaming in the dark.  Kurt waited until he heard the screen door slam, then

BAMF!

Jumped

BAMF!

Back to

BAMF!

The mansion, appearing in Professor X’s study.  “Charles, there is -- we need you,” he said quickly to the man behind the desk.

“What is it, Kurt?” Charles asked.  “Should we rally the team?”

“No.  No, just you, look,” Kurt offered, and felt the slight tingle as Charles Xavier touched his mind telepathically.

“Oh my God,” the older man said softly.  “They did it again.”

“I think so.  And this time, they have made the gravest of mistakes; she is his soulmate, platonic, but --“

“Yes, I see.  Well, if you wouldn’t mind, Kurt?”  Charles asked with a wry, small smile, wheeling himself out from around his desk.  With a nod, Kurt picked up the older man from the chair, and

BAMF!

Jumped again

BAMF!

Back to

BAMF!

The cabin in Saskatchewan, arriving beside the lake.  “I would have jumped into the cabin, but I am afraid I will frighten her, the noise,” Kurt offered as he made his way up the shoreline path to the house.

“A very good idea. Yes, I can feel her.  She is…oh, the poor child,” Charles said softly as the back door opened, Logan stepping out.

“I’m fuckin’ glad ta see ya, Chuck,” Logan said, his eyes wet.  “I don’t…she’s…”

“Feral, or nearly so,” Charles agreed.  “I’m already picking up on her fear, and her pleasure?  She’s eating?”

“Fish, we had lots left over from dinner.  Won’t touch the goddamn green beans,” Logan said, a tiny grin pulling at his whiskered face.  “The hell did they do, Chuck?”

“I’m not sure yet, Logan, but I have a bad feeling,” Charles admitted as Kurt carried him in through the open door.  “Easy; easy, child,” Charles said as the girl looked up from the table, and in the light…

“Gott im Himmel,” Kurt murmured, taking Charles to the couch at his gesture.  She was filthy, long brown hair matted against her back, and she was desperately thin.  Logan hadn’t even tried giving her silverware, her plate containing half a piece of fish yet and a handful of fried potatoes, one slice still between her fingers, hovering over a puddle of catsup as she watched them come in, scowling.

“It’s easier here than to try to sit up at the table.  Thank you, Kurt.”  Charles sat up, staring at the young stranger, who stared back, one claw popped in defense for a long moment before it slid back into her fist, much -- no, exactly like Logan’s.  She looked around, then back at Charles, shook her head, put her fingers in her ears, took them out again.

“Most of her memories seem to be of a facility of sorts,” Charles murmured.  “White coats.  Metal tables. A collar around her throat, shackles on her feet.  She has claws on her feet, as well.  I’ll have to have Jean or Moira look at her to be sure, but I think she’s about sixteen. Perhaps a bit older.  She has no name.”  He winced suddenly, and shook his head before looking up at Logan.  “Happy Father’s Day, Logan.  She’s yours, or at least, a clone.  There are memories of men talking about the original Weapon X…and what she will be capable of, since she has been created and treated differently.”

Logan’s jaw worked for a moment before he gave a sharp nod.  “Yeah.  Yeah, I figured when I seen her claws.  And our scents are real similar.”

“Well.  And you’re soulmates, Kurt said.”

“Yep.”  Logan crossed his arms over his barrel chest.  “You find’em, Chuck.  You find’em.”

“You will not go on a suicide mission, Logan, no matter how good you think your reasons are,” Charles warned him.  “She seems to be highly intelligent; she planned her escape, and she’s been living on her own, scavenging, for at least a year.  I find two different sets of winter memories.”

“Jesus, tryin’ to make it on her own in the winter -- up here?”

“I’m not sure, though there is a great deal of snow.  The facility was, I believe, in the desert somewhere.  She escaped during a transfer.  It was…a common routine, that they would transfer her from one place to another, but she was always returned to the desert.”  

“Course she’s smart. She’s mine.”  Logan puffed up, the epitome of a proud papa, and Kurt burst into laughter, drawing the girl’s attention.

“Lo-gan.  Who?”  She pointed at Kurt, then Charles.  “Friend?”

“Friends, lil’ bit, even if one of’em’s a pain in the ass Elf,” Logan agreed, taking a seat at the table. “That’s Charles,” he pointed. “That’s Kurt.”

“Hello,” Charles said kindly, leaning forward as best he could.  “I’m very sorry to just poke around in your head without so much as a greeting, but we need to know what’s happened to you.  Tell me, would you like for us to give you a name?”

“No number, person. Lo-gan say,” she insisted, reaching and finding Logan’s big hand.

“No.  You are not a number.  You are a person, with a person’s rights.  Let’s see.  I will suggest names, and you tell me if you like them, hmm?”  He asked, and she nodded.  “Excellent.  Jane?” She shook her head. “Hannah.”  She wrinkled her nose.  “Maggie?  Megan? Laura?”  She nodded at the last.  “Laura?  You like that?”

“Yes.  Laura.  My name Laura.”

“It’s the first syllable,” Charles said, smiling.  “It sounds like --“

“Fuck,” Logan, said, shaking his head.  “Yep. I get it.”

“Yes.  You’re like her, and she recognizes that, and you’ve made her feel safe.  I don’t think she’s ever felt safe.”  Charles’ voice and face took a sympathetic tone.  “Poor child.”

“She’s safe now,” Logan growled.  

“So she is.  But she is not safe, herself, to bring to the school. She needs to be…gently acclimated to society.  Taught how to behave around others.  She is rather feral.”  Charles turned his attention to Kurt.  “Kurt. Would you be willing to stay here and help?  I may need to ask you to come and go between the mansion and here, bringing Moira or Jean out to help with checking her over, et cetera.”

“I would be glad to help,” Kurt agreed.  

“Good.  I’ll begin making arrangements in the morning. Would you mind taking me home for now? It’s very late in New York.”

“Not at all.”

  When Kurt returned, he found Logan on the porch, beer in one hand, cigar in the other.  “Where is Laura?”

“Sleepin’.”  Logan took a long drink.  “I’m gonna find the bastards who did this.”

“I know you are,” Kurt agreed, crouching on the porch rail, wrapping his tail around it for balance. “And I will go with you.  Mein Gott.”

“Nope.  You’re gonna stay behind an’ make sure she’s okay,” Logan said, looking up at him from his chair.  “Done told her, Uncle Kurt, he’s an annoying brat, but he’s a good man.”

“Too kind,” Kurt chuckled. “How long do you think it will take to…” he searched for words, and Logan spoke up.

“Tame her? Dunno.  But she’s smart as hell.  Asked why you carried Chuck.  Why you’re blue, except she didn’t say blue.  She don’t even know colors, Kurt.”

“Then what did she say?”

“Asked why you were night sky man,” Logan said with a fond grin.  “An’ why yer fingers an’ toes are different.”

“It will be like having a larger, smarter, easily angered toddler,” Kurt sighed.  “But I am used to being around you, so it will not be so hard.”

“Ass,” Logan said, shaking his head and grinning.  “We gotta do somethin’ ‘bout her hair, that’s a mess.”

“Yes.  It might be easier to cut it very short, to begin with.”

“I was thinkin’ the same thing.  But all that’s for tomorra, I reckon.”  Logan sighed. “Fuck.  I’m a daddy.”

“So you are,” Kurt agreed softly.  “And you missed the diapers, yes?  She is toilet trained?”

“Yep.  Reckon they had one in her fuckin’ cell.”

“So.  You are a daddy.  And you will have the luxury of teaching her all the things about the world, Logan.  Think of it that way,” Kurt offered.  

“I don’t…” Logan looked down at his beer bottle.  “I don’t know if I can, Elf.  I ain’t exactly role model material.”

“Kitty and Jubilation would both disagree with that,” Kurt replied.  “And you know I am right.”

“Yeah, but --“ Logan began, and Kurt jumped down from the porch rail, coming to stand beside his friend, laying his hand on the bulkier man’s shoulder gently.

“Nein.  You are not alone in this; I am here, and I will help you. And we can and will get help from the others, as well.  She is no longer alone.  She has a family.  You have a family.  We will raise her properly and well, Logan, I know we will.”

“Yeah, well.  Say a couple prayers, if’n you would.  Who’s the patron saint of daddies?”

“Saint Joseph,” Kurt responded automatically.  “And I will.”

“Okay.”  Logan nodded with a sigh.  “Okay.  You’re right. We’ll…we’ll raise her right. Teach her how ta not just gut whoever pisses her off.”

“How to read, and write.”

“How ta track and hunt an’ fish.”

“How to draw?  Do you think we should get crayons?”

“How to lay a trap.”

“How to use silverware.”

“Hell.  We got a lot o’work ta do, Elf.”  Logan shook his head.  “Ain’t gonna be easy.”

“No.  But things that are worth having, are worth work.  And I can already tell that Laura will be worth it.” Kurt squeezed Logan’s shoulder. “You were.”

 Next month:  Laura’s first birthday party, and more soulmate shenanigans.

STAY TUNED, TRUE BELIEVERS!

[vantaert]

Let go

- Are you afraid of falling in love

-No I'm afraid of letting go

Another unknown season has passed by my locked doors . The four of them ran out of magic trying to sneak some glitter into my black and white life . Yet I block them out . What's the best of the winter if he's not my umbrella under the rainstorms . What's the purpose of the fallen if he's gone like a golden Leaf dancing within the fierce wind .

The fate made us make blank vows . Vows were meant to tear us apart , to split our souls and to break our hearts .He promised he would never throw one last glance at our story . He confessed if he did he would jump over the high tide to hold me and never let go .I promised I would never hold him back .Yet my selfishness got the best of me . Thus I turned around just to meet your back walking away . Leaving the utopia .Then you disappeared just like snowflakes within the rain .

After you've gone the fog spread all over the corners. The emptiness found it's way to rut inside my broken soul . My heart is barely beating. As its lost as well . As its roots are being shattered by the sudden change of weather. Yesterday it was sunny and warm . Today it's gloomy and cold . Tomorrow will be dark and freezing . The sharp pain is wandering inside my chest burning every single bone against my ribcage.

We both flashed the thunderstorm over our story . We both created this tragic disaster. Yet I was the victim . I thought I could be able to turn the page for the next chapter.  I thought I could be able to wander the next story .I thought I could be able to watch you shine like a silver star in the sky without me drowning into an endless waterfalls till no tears left to cry . I thought I could be able to give up on you and dress my naked soul another season free of pain and wounds . But no matter how deep the wound is I couldn't love you less . I couldn't care about the countless non healed scars you've scratched because at the end still they remind me of you . I do want to remember you even it means opening the old wounds by a sharp blade bleeding memories, moments, promises, we've shared upon once a time.

It's been

days

Weeks

Months

Years

Inking thousand lines

Between every word I ink  I would shed burning tears . Every time I blink trying to cage them back I fail . Each droplet leaves my soul it cracks a piece of my heart . Regardless it cracks million times per day yet ridiculously can't seem to forget about you . How comes not only my soul have fallen for you but also the brain which is supposed to be the rationale alarm and my fragile body . Successfully you've possessed me .

Those inked letters hold the past ,the present outing the future . I have no future to look for while you've gone . Future is so unclear since you've vanished . It's like I'm staring at the fascinating moon yet I'm too far to define its breathtakingly beauty because you're not here to admire it with me . Remember how fond I was with the sunset until I've watched the sunrise with you . You made it possible also to erase my desire for the rain until I've witnessed the first snow with you . My life was simply impossible until you've stepped in sprinkling only few glimpses of your charms to make it perfectly possible. Sadly now how badly I pray for the impossible to storm again . I'm tired of everything. I want to let go .

This is going to be the last words you're going to hear from me . I'm not sure if you've read my previous chapters though my guts are ringing a bell you did . Maybe you miss me the way I miss you . Maybe you want me as much as I want you . Maybe you cry as hard as I do . Nevertheless it kills us alive causing only forgotten corpses yet we live in a world where miracles never born and destinies never play fairly.

We chose different paths . You picked a shining star . I picked a stigma .

Our paths would never cross just like the day and the night . You'll be the sun I'll be the moon . You live under the spotlight .I hide beneath the moonlight.

This is the second hardest thing I've ever done in my entire existence. The first was letting go of your hand . This doesn't mean I'm letting go of this love either. I'm just gonna ink the ending . One of us had to . Since you hadn't enough courage to cut the rose . I'll sacrifice like I've always did . I'm going to cut it . I'm well aware of the consequences which it's going to bleed to death . The garden will hold a funeral but the owner of the rose wouldn't be there for its fairway. He would be crying alone in his castle calling its name more than once hoping for its shadow to appear but it won't come . It won't be part of this universe by that time .

I had you once to love you for a lifetime . Promise me this time you won't get trapped by the same mistake I've done . Free yourself of this broken love . Find yourself a new euphoria . Create yourself a utopia . Don't blame yourself . I chose to engulf this broken love as a utopian euphoria . I know we've held Blank vows . They were like empty cups . Thus at least this time make a valid promise by closing the book and throw it somewhere in the deep ocean . I'll find it and hide it where you'll never reach .

It's time I think . This is the end . Im giving up on you . But love is not over . Love is a maze where we sin . Where we wound and we heal . Where we break and we cure . Where we cry and we laugh . Where everything is against sealing a happy ending. 

Next time don't break down singing . The untold truth is that I don't want you anymore. Don't let old emotions blind you from seeing the truth . Because no matter how much you still want me . The fate won't light on us .

Gift yourself the happiness I couldn't write neither for you nor for myself.

[diddlesanddoodles]

DUMPLING

Chapter Seven

(Fair warning. Lots of frivolous cursing. They can’t help it, it’s just how they are.)

Her dreams were strange. 

She was smaller than she remembered being, held tightly to her mother’s chest, and traveling in a group through a dark forest. It was cold and she could see her breath leave her mouth in a thick mist.

“Don’t move,” said her father, pressing a hand to her mother’s shoulder. He ran a calloused hand down Nenani’s head when she began to babble at him in confusion. Her mother pulled the blanket over her little face. Around them, the forest was silent and strange. No crickets chirped. Even the wind was still. The others of their group were silent, hunching into their cloaks, and looking around the dark trees.

The air smelt wrong.   

“What is it?” someone asked. “Are there giants?”

“Shhh,” her father hissed. His hand gripped the hilt of the sword at his belt, the emblem of thorns adorning the guard, before the world exploded in a horrendous crash of sound and trees. The blade drew from the sheath with a flash.

“RUN!” Her father bellowed. Voices as loud as thunder roared above them. The people screamed as they bolted.

They were running. Her mother’s breath was heavy in her ears, desperate and terrified whimpers escaping her as she ran, her arms clutching the child to her breast. Suddenly, she paused and changed direction. Something behind her crashed.

“No use in runnin’, love,” boomed a voice from above. “I can smell the fear on ya.”

She ran further through the brush and leaped down an embankment, running along a narrow stream, the overgrowth hiding her from anything above. The loud stomping of the monster's walk passed by, paused, and continued on. Above them, he cursed.

“Stupid girl...”

Nenani could hear her mother’s breath become ragged, could feel the fluttering pulse of her heartbeat under her little hands. Abruptly, her mother fell hard to her knees at the foot of a large tree. She shoved her young daughter into its roots, pulling the blanket around her to shield her from the moons rays and from hunting eyes.

“Keep very still,” her mother told her, cupping her chubby little face. “And be very quiet.”

“Mummy,” she cried, little hands reaching out for her mother. The woman’s vibrant scarlet hair framed her face as a light breeze passed. She smiled through the tears dripping down her face.

“I love you, my sweet,” she said. “Be brave for me.”

The woman kissed her cheek even as the little girl babbled something unintelligible in the manner of a babe. Her mother just smiled once more, but it looked so sad. And then she was gone.

No, please don’t go...

The tiny child sat in the dirt, wrapped in the wool blanket and waited. She could hear the sounds of the forest and the crashing and screams that faded as they moved further and further away. And still she waited. And waited. The chill began to creep in, and the little child wobbled to unsteady legs and ambled out into the night.  

“M-mummy?” She called, her thumb pressed to her lips. “Mummy? Dah-duh?”

When no one answered, she started to cry as she tottered about, dragging the wool blanket behind. Something behind her snapped loudly and the girl looked back at the noise and found herself staring at a pair of very large boots, scuffed with mud and forest debris. She tilted her head up and up and up and found piercing green eyes staring at down her. A large gloved hand descended from above and the little girl gave a startled cry and tried to run.

“Oi, now, lil’un,” rumbled the giant. “Where might ya think yer waddlin’ of ta? Not gonna get very far on them little legs.”

The young child only manages a few wobbly steps before tripping and falling face first into the dirt. She lay there, crying more from the shock of the fall than any pain. Large fingers encased her little body, plucking her tiny form effortlessly from the ground and cupped her into a warm palm that brought her up higher and higher. The same large fingers curled around around her slightly. A giant face loomed ahead, lips parting in a grin, and flashing his terrible teeth. Green eyes as sharp as knives cut into her as she stared back, her bottom lip quivering as she whimpered in fear.    

The giant chuckled, a deep throaty sound, and said, “Hello there, my little sweetling...”

…………………………

Nenani opened her eyes slowly as words, sensations, and smells from long ago echoed in her head. Her mind buzzed with the strange dream, but the more she tried to recall it with more clarity, the more it seemed to slip away from her like so many grains of sand through her fingers. Until at last, she could not remember it at all. All she was left with was a feeling of longing for her mother and the memory of those sharp green eyes...

It was then that she noticed with belated realization that her bed was breathing. She shifted a bit, pushing herself onto her arm and looked up to see Yale’s large sleeping face, tilted to one side. His mouth was open and he was drooling a little. She was curled up on his chest, a deep green wool blanket pulled over her and him alike. She didn’t remember falling asleep, let alone falling asleep on Yale. It was a bit of a startling thing to find oneself asleep on top of a giant first thing in the morning.

Was this something she was going to have to grow accustom to?

She remembered eating quietly while everyone else spent their evening indulging in the dark brew of the house ale and discussing various things. The most popular being how grateful they all were now that the Wedding feast was over and their work load would return to normal. Several of the kitchen staff had to be forced to bed after they had seemingly indulged a bit too enthusiastically in their beer. Farris barked at the drunk giants to ‘fuck off’ before he put them all on pit duty. Whatever pit duty was. Regardless, the threat was real enough to penetrate the haze of alcohol because they all begrudgingly toddled off to wherever it was the staff slept. And not too long after, it was only Farris, Bart, Yale, and Nenani left at the table.

Yale spent most of the evening fussing over Nenani and trying to make her laugh by poking her sides and telling awful jokes and generally trying to get her to not be so scared of him. He was marginally successful. It was hard to be afraid of someone who kept making weird and funny faces like that.

Until Bart barked at him to knock it off, the loud noise of his voice startling her.

“Stop coddlin’ ‘er ya git,” the large man said.

Yale just grinned in response and leaned forward onto the table, wrapping his long arms to encase Nenani in a loose embrace and startling her a bit as well. “I’m not coddlin’ ‘er. I’m just happy she made it through the Reap. And the King. And Lolly for that matter.”

“Ya act like yuv never seen a human pup before,” laughed Farris.

“It’s been a while,” Yale replied, pulling Nenani closer, ignoring her protests, and nuzzling her with his nose. His hair tickled her face, making her giggle. She pushed back against his cheek, but Yale wouldn’t let go. “Ya forget how cute they are when they’re young.”

Bart just rolled his eyes and took a long drink from his mug.

“Ya were around when the King found the brat,” Farris pointed out. “He was a scrawney little bugger too.”

“Yeah, but he was such a crybaby,” Yale replied. “He would burst into tears if you looked at ‘im wrong.”

“HA!” Bart laughed. “Aye, he was a blubbery wee thing...before he found his mouth, that is. And that one there’s been soppy eyed since ya caught her. Shakin’ like a three wheeled wagon.”

Farris and Yale chuckled at that.

“I thought you were gonna eat me,” Nenani murmured quietly in her defense, shifting a little where she sat.

Yale shook his head slightly. “Nah. Like I said. Ain’t much to ya. Not worth the hassle.”

Seeing the worried look on the little girl’s face, Yale laughed and pulled her a little closer to him, rubbing her arm with his fingers. “Oi now, don’t go on with that long face. I’m only pullin’ yer leg, Dumplin’. No one down here’s gonna be gobblin’ ya up.”

“So long as ya behave, that is,” Bart added, running his hand over his beard. Farris was shaking his head, but smiling.  

“Never stopped the brat,” Yale replied with a grin.  

“Only ‘cause ya could never catch the little rat.”

“I won’t be blaming ‘im fer being scared of our ugly mugs. Had every right to be scared and more,” Farris replied. “Surprised he ever warmed up ta anyone really. That first year was pretty rough fer most a’ us. That one certainly.”

“Who?” asked Nenani, leaning back into Yale’s shoulder, his large head resting on his crossed arms. If he insisted on cuddling on her, she might as well be comfortable. She had finished her stew and was now contently munching on a chunk of bread Yale had broken off from the larger loaves in the middle of the table.  

“Jae,” replied Yale, tilting his head to fix the little girl with a single eye. “He’s another human. The King found him when he was a kid and just kind of kept him.”

Nenani could not say she was hearing much many good things about this Jae person.

“Aye,” said Farris, staring into his mug. “Off in the moors on a hunt. Few days after the Blood King died, if I recall.”

Bart sneered and turned his head to spit on the floor. “Greatest day of m’life when those boys shoved that bastard full of steel.”

Both Farris and Yale made noises of agreement.

Nenani looked at Bart confused. Rheil had said the Blood King died. Not that he was killed. It felt strange to know that a figure so empirical to the stories she had been told all her life was dead and had been so for most of her life. Had her mother known? Had father or her Uncle? Did it matter? A dead boogeyman was not as terrifying as a live one, she supposed.  

Luckily, the others did not seem to want to speak of the dead monarch either and the topic turned to other things. It was sometime after that that she must have fallen asleep. She remembered gentle hands gathering her up and feeling warm and oddly safe. A feeling she had not experienced in many months.

As these thoughts and memories filtered through her mind, a loud voice broke through the morning quiet and startled Nenani badly.

“WAKE UP YOU LAZY FUCKERS!” Farris strode into the room, shoving aside the curtain that separated the barracks from the main kitchen, and slapped his palm along the wall. And a few of the sleeping workers’ heads as they lay in their bunks. Around her, the sleeping kitchen staff all groaned and stretched from their beds. Beneath her, Yale started awake and sat up without warning. Nenani tumbled down into the tangle of blankets and onto Yale’s lap with a startled squeak.

He looked down, his sleep laden eyes suddenly clear and sheepish. “Ah, sorry ‘bout that. Forgot ya were there, Dumplin’.”

“Verhn will be brewing today so we’ll be using the yard fer prep,” barked Farris, standing in the center of the room. There were several wooden bunks all stack along the walls, three bunks tall. Yale’s was the bottom bunk on the left side of the room. Farris was holding a list in one hand as he began barking out orders. “Saen, you’re off pit duty. Five crates of potatoes are waiting on ya. Get ta peelin’...”

Someone cheered.

“...and Avery, yer on pit duty. Call my Mum anything other than a blessed saint again and you’ll be the one on the spit and not the one spinning it.”

Someone else groaned. “...fuuuuuck you too.”

“Shuddup and get to it, ya arse. Quinn, Kol, your list is waitin’ fer ya on your stations,” said the Spice Master. “The Queen’s added a few...things. I hope you fellas are up for a challenge.”

“Always, boss,” quipped a sleepy giant as he leaped down from the top bunk.

“Half them pastries I haven’t ever even heard of,” Farris added. “And she’ll be expectin’ the dinner rolls tonight and the pastries tomorrow.”

“Sounds like fun!” came the sarcastic reply. “I love learning new shit with a hangover.”

“That’s yer own fault. Herit, Gjerk, yer with Bart today,” said Farris. He looked up from his list towards the bunk to his right and the two smallest of the kitchen workers. He grinned maliciously. “Got a fresh delivery of Lippers this morning.”

Both of the workers seemed to deflate. “Ahhhhhh, Seven Hells.”

“And that means you two’ll be sleepin’ in the yard tonight!” quipped a worker as he passed.

“Fuck that,” snapped one of them. “I’m gonna be covered in fucking Lipper stink and you’re all gonna suffer too!”

“Y’come in here stinkin’, Herit, and I’ll toss ya in Gurney’s manure pile! Hog tied and head first.”

As everyone around her bickered, Nenani was valiantly trying to untangle herself from the thick wool blanket that seemed to entrap her the more she fought. And she was not making much headway. Yale seemed content to just watch her struggle in lazy amusement.

Nenani sighed in defeat, looking up into the giant’s face. “Help?”

“Since ya asked so nice like,” he said smiling and pulled one side of the blanket. Nenani rolled, landing on the bare mattress with a ‘oof’.  

“Yale,” Farris said. “I need ya to go through all that new shit the Queen’s folk brought with her. I don’t recognize half of it, but I’m sure Quinn and Kol will be needed a good bit of whatever the fuck that shit is. Ya got Dumplin’ duty too. Keep ‘er out of trouble and out of the way. Maybe see if ya can’t teach ‘er somethin’ useful.”

“Aye,” said Yale, throwing his long legs over the side of the bunk. “But I’ve got half a mind to start shovin’ cloves up my nose now if they’re gonna be saltin’ Lippers out there.”

“And I’ve got half a mind to break that nose a’yours,” growled Farris before turning to stride out of the room. “NOW GET TO IT YA BASTARDS!”

Yale seemed to be taking his sweet time getting up, stretching and yawning. The rest of the staff were all up and filtering out of the room. Several shooting jealous glances his way. Yale just smiled and waved at them. Nenani laid down on the mattress next to him, feeling like she could easily go back to sleep. How early was it? Who in their right mind would be awake at this hour? It was still dark outside!

Yale turned his head down at her. “I’m not kidding about th’ cloves, neither, Dumplin’. Lippers are foul buggers.”

“What are they?” she asked, rubbing the sleep from her eyes and yawning. “Fish?”

“Nah. Fresh water eels with big ol’ lips. They got this thick skin that excretes this nasty stuff that smells like death took a shit then lit it on fire.”

“...yuck,” she replied. “Then why bother?”

“Once they’re skinned and salted, they’re really nice. Fried in butter over some mash. And the skin’s pretty damn dough tough, makes fer some great leather work,” he replied. “Pretty versatile lil’ fuckers. It’s just a shit to get ‘em to where they’re worth eatin’. Not that anyone upstairs cares how they get it, just that they do. S’the only job worse than pit duty. S’why we shove it off on the tenderfoots. And Bart will pretty much do anything so long as he gets to chop something’s head off.”

With a grunt of effort, Yale got to his feet and stretched, and walked forward a few steps and back around to face the little human girl still laying sleepily on his bed. He crouched down next to the bed as Nenani pushed herself up.

“So what about you, Nenani?” he asked, voice quiet. His use of her actual name surprised her.

“Hm?” She sat up, crossing her legs and regarding the giant curiously.

“I didn’t scare you too badly did I?” He asked, reaching towards her. He pinched her face between a thumb and forefinger playfully, a small smile on his lips as his thumb lightly rubbed her cheek. “Y’know I was just playin’ with ya right? The whole, eatin’ ya thing? Ya seemed pretty rattled.”

“Yeah,” she admitted meekly. “It was scary. And I’m still a little nervous...about being here. Everything’s really big and...”

“Probably heard a lot of stories about this place, huh?” he asked.

She nodded.

“Well, can’t say they weren’t true at some point,” he told her. “Things were pretty bad during the war. Lots of folks did some terrible stuff, just tryin’ to see another day.”

“I don’t wanna be eaten...” she admitted weakly, shrinking into herself a bit.

“Ya won’t be,” Yale assured her gently and shifted so he was kneeling at eye level with the girl. The fingers at her face moving up to stroke her head affectionately. “Ya never have to worry about any of us hurting ya. And that’s a promise. We ain’t like them border guards. Right bastards, the lot of ‘em. S’why the get the worst postin’s. But don’t worry though. That little trinket around yer neck? It don’t just say that you belong to Farris or that you have the King’s permission ta be here. It means yer one o’ us. And even in the pits a’Hell, we take care of our own. Understand me, Dumplin’?”

He winked at her bewildered expression.

Something in his words struck a spark somewhere deep in Nenani’s mind. She recalled the days after her Uncle died. Her fellow villagers never offered a helping hand when he never came back. Not even a kind word of condolence. They spat at her, called her cursed. The Beastmen were cruel to her whenever she was on the docks asking for work or food. They would try to kick her when she passed. A few tried to grab her, threatened to sell her to slavers. For months she had to sneak and steal and scavenge and in the process she had received her fare share of slaps or beatings. She was no good at living on the streets and had lost a good bit of weight. She’d grown use to being filthy and sleeping in dirt. No one wanted a gutter rat around. Even the other wretches seem to disdain her. She was a small, needy little girl. A burden. It was as though they were waiting for her to just die already. It had been so hard and lonely...

There was a tightness blossoming in her chest at the recollection. It caught her off guard enough that she was only barely aware of the tears pooling in her eyes.

She was being welcomed openly by people who she had grown up believing to be man eating monsters. It was almost a cruel joke and not one that she felt like laughing at. But at the same time, she felt a profound sense of gratitude and relief in that moment. A weight she had carried for months. The fingers at her head were then at her back, stroking down her spine. Yale’s expression was oddly knowing.

“Rheil told us about how you ended up here,” he said. “Pretty rough goin’ there, lil’un.”

“IT’S GONNA GET A LOT ROUGHER IF YOU DON’T MOVE YOUR ARSE, YALE!”

“Ah, well. Let’s get to it then,” Yale said, scooping her up. A finger gently tapped her nose, earning him a watery smile from the girl as she scrubbed her eyes. “You’ll be alright, Dumplin’.”

[glass-ladybug]

this is fan this spark into a flame, but im going on this acc so it doesnt show up on my main

Mae stepped out onto the creaky porch, throwing her arms into the air. "Well, that was fun!" Bea, crouched on the step, ever-present cigarette hanging from her mouth, gave a non-committal hum. They'd just made a daring escape from the basement of an odd old woman, aided by Bea's expertise in fixing machines, and Mae's experience in smashing the crap out of them. Even though Bea had apparently had to re-fix the furnace before they left, it was still Mae's powers of destruction that saved the day, /thank you very much/! Geez, and Bea said she was along for the ride. Mae half-tripped down the steps to plop beside Bea. "She gave us lemonade!" She beamed, raising a near empty plastic cup of over-sugary lemonade. Not that Mae cared, lemonade was lemonade. Unless it was that sugar-substitute stuff. /That/ was unacceptable. "Yeah." "You.... Not like lemonade?" Mae needled. Bea snorted, brushing a frizzy strand of hair behind her ear. "It's faaaaantastic." She drawled. Mae shot her a concerned look. Bea should be happy! They fixed a furnace, broke a furnace, then fixed it again! And now they had /lemonade/! "So what's up?" Bea turned away, angling her face to the moon. "Nothing. Just... Tired." She sighed, "Worked all day." "Hey!" Mae exclaimed indignantly. "I worked too!" "You tied a gnome to a plastic fan and spun it around. I don't typically consider that /work/." "Ex-cuuuse me, it was an elegant long-term solution and it would've worked!" Mae laughed, watching Bea's expression for any reaction. Bea's mouth turned up at the corner, a half-smile settling on her face. "Whatever you need to tell yourself at night." Mae scooted into a more comfortable position, setting down her now empty glass, and hugging her knees to her chest. From this point of view, everything seemed ethereal. She and Bea sat in silence on Mrs. Miranda's front porch, the moon illuminating her front yard, the only sound a few crickets chirping in the tall grass. She was almost afraid to talk, worried that it might break the peaceful spell hovering over them. Mae found herself studying Bea. Her dark skin, sharp eyeliner, and frizzy curls hastily pulled back into three knobs. The lilt of her mouth when she was happy, her piercing brown eyes, black lipstick, perfectly shaped eyebrows, and her now oil stained and calloused hands. /Oh my God./ Mae thought. Out of all her friends, Bea was the most mysterious. After seventh or eight grade- Mae couldn't really remember which anymore- they'd stopped hanging out anymore. It was gradual. No fight, nor argument. Every day, she just saw Bea less and less, until they were more like strangers than best friends. They stopped talking altogether when Bea's mom died. But now, Mae was back! And she finally had the chance to make things better. Maybe it'd be okay, coming home so suddenly like this, because they were here together. If they were stuck in Possum Springs, they were stuck with each other. And now, one of those perfect eyebrows was arched questioningly, and Mae could only think of how glad she was to be spending tonight smashing up old furnaces with this girl, and- "Do I have something on my face?" Bea monotoned, abruptly snatching Mae out of her daydreaming. "Huh? I-uh, uhhhh, wha?" Mae stammered. "My face. You were staring, so I could only assume you'd finally lost it, or something dripped on me. I guess it was the former." Mae's skin tingled with embarrassment, her veins still coursing with adrenaline and excitement from the furnace escapade. She stood up abruptly, the porch step creaking under her sudden shift. "I'm all hyper." She said, tapping her fingers erratically on her arm. "Good for you." Mae huffed, throwing her head back. "Ugh, you are /zero/ fun." Bea nodded certainly. "Yup." Mae waved her hands in front of her excitedly, "You need some, some magical shit, to like give you a new perspective." "Ah. Let me know when that happens. Wouldn't want to miss it." Bea took another puff of her cigarette, staring off at something in the distance. Mae looked at her. How could someone sit still and just /think/ for that long? Not Mae. She couldn't remain in the same place for more than 5 minutes at a time. Unless it was thinking about Bea. Mae thought she could probably stretch that out for a while longer. Mrs. Miranda really was weird. It didn't look like she ever cut the grass, and her lawn was covered in all sorts of weird shit, from garden gnomes to the giant-ass windmill near the driveway. Whatever- it was still a pretty cool house anyway. The whole yard was tinged with blue, and the cold moonlight made everything look silvery, like something from a dream. Mae decided she liked it. Mae stepped off the porch. "I'll be back in a minute, I'm gonna go climb the windmill!" Bea sighed. "Please try not to break that too." "No promises," Mae grinned, and then trotted down the yard. The long, dry grass brushed up against her jeans, and found its way to her ankles, tickling her. It was kinda uncomfortable, but she bet it looked awesome. The lone hero, standing majestically in her faded orange t-shirt and waving grass, facing the beast that was a great iron windmill that looked rusted to to one position. Out of the corner of her eye, Mae saw a teensy lightening bug glow softly, then flit to her shoulder. "Ohhhh, hey little guy! You coming with me? Yeah, don't worry, I'll take good care of you." When a second flocked to her she felt special. When a third landed on her forehead, she felt as if her heart was about to explode into tiny shiny pieces. With a solid jump, she landed on the first blade of the windmill, feeling accomplished when it did nothing more than emit a rusty groan beneath her. She hopped from one to another, then to the upper most blade, not noticing that a small gathering of fireflies were now trailing behind her until they all lit up. "Wow..." Mae breathed, surveying the street from her vantage point, watching as a few lone cars lit up the street as they drove on to more busier sections of town. She reluctantly hopped down, metal creaking beneath her as more and more fireflies began to join her crusade. She walked steadily through the gently blowing grass and navigating the various lawn ornaments, re-arrived at the porch steps with a throng of fireflies. Mae couldn't help but grin, putting on her best, "this was perfectly intentional" face. Bea's jaw dropped, her cigarette nearly dropping from her mouth. "Wow." And then, to Mae's delight, she began laughing. Bea shook her head a few times in disbelief, before dissolving into chuckles. It was beautiful. Her eyes lit up brighter than her entire firefly mob, and she just looked so /happy/ that it made Mae happy too. Bea lifted her head again, looking at Mae. "Haha.. Hah. Are you some kind of firefly whisperer or something?" Mae shrugged. "They just like me, I guess." Bea looked at her with something akin to wonder. "That's..." She shook her head. "You're an interesting person, Mae Borowski." Mae nodded sagely, a few fireflies drifted towards the porch light. "Granddad said being interesting is all you can ever hope to be." Mystified, Bea hummed in agreement. "Well, mission accomplished." "Woohoo!" Bea's mouth seemed to be upturned in a permanent smile now, and Mae's heart was speeding into overdrive. Bea smirked. "Y'know. I have to say, this would've been a much less exciting evening if you weren't along for the ride." "See?" Mae offered helpfully. "I'm good to have around." "I mean, you can certainly beat the shit out of a furnace." "I can beat the shit out of /anything/." Now, it was Bea's turn to study her. She took a long drag of her dying cigarette, and murmured, "You should, like, channel that aggression you always have into something useful." Mae shrugged again, but this time her shoulders felt like someone had dropped a rather large weight on them. "Eh, Dr. Hank said way back I needed to repress it." Bea's smile quickly vanished. "'Repress'? Not, like, 'learn to deal with it'?" "Nope. He specifically said, 'repress'." "Uh, okay. Hm." Bea seemed troubled by this, and sensing a shift in tone, Mae sped onto another topic. "My firefly powers aren't for me only, y'know." Bea raised an eyebrow, and the ghost of a smile reappeared on her face. "Oh?" More emboldened now, Mae kept talking. "Yeah, they can be, y'know, transferred." "Is that so?" Bea snorted. "I'm telling the truth! Close your eyes." "That sentence makes me far more inclined to get up and run now." Mae shook her head emphatically. "No, no! Close 'em." Bea huffed, but obediently closed her eyes. "And no peeking!" "Uh-huh. Got it." And with that, Mae leaned forward and planted a kiss directly on Bea's mouth. She pulled back quickly, and rubbed the charcoal colored lipstick off with the back of her hand, her heart beating frantically, and her nerves coursing with excitement. Bea stared at her with wide eyes, a silhouette in the porch light. "See? Now you have them too. We can be masters of the fireflies together." Finding her voice again, Bea shakily muttered, "You are really something else, Mae." Mae clapped her hands loudly. "So, do you think Mrs. Miranda, like, pulled her husbands guts out? Isn't that what you do with mummies?" "I dunno, Mae." Fueled by elation, Mae pushed forward. "Do you think you'd have the stomach for it?" Bea snorted. "Nope." "It probably took a lot of heart." She was laughing quietly. "Yup." "I wish she would /ex-pleen/ it to us." Mae giggled. "I get it, Mae." Every word was punctuated by giggles now. "She really /rectum/." Bea burst into a fit of laughter. "Okay, now that probably stayed in place." "Yeah," Mae agreed, "that should stay where it be-lungs." Bea stood up, and began walking into the calm blue night. "I'm leaving." "Hey!" Mae crowed out, smile stretched wide, "You gotta liver your life!" "Bye." Bea yelled back, words interrupted by involuntary spouts of laughter, "This is me, gone." "Hey, wait up!" Mae sprinted behind her. "You're walking back to town." "You've got a lot of... haha... Gall to say that!" Bea looked back, and Mae almost stopped dead at how beautiful she was. Her eyes crinkled up at the corners, her hair was wild and rumpled, her dark skin almost glowed silver. She laughed, wiping the corner of her eye. "I'm gonna call the cops." And as Mae sped after her, a lone firefly trailing behind, she thought about how for the first time since she left for college, she was happy where she was. And maybe- just maybe- this was where she belonged.