#it's a little messy but at least i think these colours are a tiny bit more accurate

[afoxysunny]

Well well my beloved friend

Funny you would say Tritten, because to me that looks like an adult cat so it'd be a Trat, right? But bc your tags are the cutest I couldn't not give you actual trittens

Tada, proud trout dad and his four little trittens

trout

[anxietymadmax]

Just some lineart practice basically

More practice, yippee, decided today to try something different with linework, and do a little experiment with colour.

My subject for the day is a little portrait redraw of Abigail from Stardew Valley, mostly out of surprise that I hadn't gotten round to drawing her already.

Screw it, we going through my whole process today since the end result is really not the focus.

So, started off by sketching her in my usual fashion with the pencil-style brush that I've been using consistently. Sketching stage is like, my favourite bit of drawing and I tend to love how they turn out, which is mildly unfortunate, and is the reason that I purposefully try to make my final results sketchier in appearance, I like em scrungly.

Next I went through a bunch of the default brushes on the program I use (Ibispaint, the free version, if anyones curious) and narrowed it down to two I wanted to try lineart with. First one (right) is, again, the pencil brush that I always use, and the second one (left) is a pen brush with bleed that looked pretty scrungly, hence why I picked it, hoping it would lend itself to a sketchy style.

Whilst I did like how the pen felt in some respects (my style of doing eyes in particular felt pretty neat with the brush), I think some of the longer lines look a little too messy, and the tiny mistakes are more apparent. I also liked hatching with the brush, so maybe I'll consistently use it when it comes to that stage.

Overall though I still prefer using the pencil for finished lineart, for now, more experimenting and customising might bring me a new go-to.

And then to finish off just the most basic colouring, I think colour is certainly my weakest point aha, but I still wanted to try a little something. (also, only did one colour layer, and with the pen lineart in mind, so the colour is not lined up perfectly with the pencil art T_T)

So, the background is on a seperate layer, and then I made the colour layer like 10-15% transparent to have the background filter through a tiny bit. It's not a super noticeable effect, but as I was doing it I noticed the difference and like how it turned out. Turning down the opacity also slightly destaurated some of the colours, which I don't mind on this occasion.

Anyways, colouring is probably the big thing I need to practice, and making it more than just the flat colours. Colouring is already my least favourite, and the most time-consuming, bit of drawing for me, never mind the fact that its also the point where I start liking the end result less. I think with practice, and actually making it look good, I might like it a little more.

Right, that's all for this edition of 'I rant about my entire thought process for something', tune in next time.

[raitou-otcha]

how do you think baby guardians look? like an actual baby and not chibi, or maybe a toddler? like- they're gonna be so tiny, and small and just odgewgyg.

like Jack, would he have brown hair and brown eyes (also he has brown eyes!! before he became a spirit!!) or would he be more like his spirit self. Im leaning towards the former, maybe he has both brown and white hair (who knows). He seems like a kind kid when he was younger, in his teen years he definitely was so maybe that also was around when he was younger.

how would Toothiana look, i'm putting my money on the fact that her feathers would be everywhere, yk how baby chicks have extremely fluffed feathers like this or this hell maybe her legs are more obvious yet the rest of her body his highly fluffed up like this little guy. She could be very hyperactive when she was younger similar like how she's constantly flying around and not fully staying in one place, or she couldve been stationary like how chicks are in their nests.

we already surprisingly have a good example on Bunnymund with him becoming more bunny like in the movie however don't rabbits shed their coats and become a different colour sometimes? maybe that's how Bunnymund got his eye catching blue coat but when he was younger it could've been more gray or brown? (most rabbits molt during seasons so that could also funnily enough explains why the easter rabbit is sometimes white, gray or brown)

do you think North is was chubby baby? its shown he has muscles and i think he went though the sleeper build phase when he was a bit younger before his muscles became prominent. its shown that he did grow up without really having any connection with his parents. Maybe he was messy kid or a friendly kid, trying to befriend anyone he can.

its canon that Sandy has dwarfism, did you know that babies born with dwarfism also look more like their adult/teen counterpart? specifically in the head department, their faces remain relatively the same consistently not changing much as time passes, their heads also are more bigger that their non dwarf counterparts. Sandy couldve had balancing issues when he was born and thus needed extra care and attention to get him to move, he also probably was caried a lot, at least a but more than the average baby and toddler.

how do you think Pitch looked like?? we have absolutely nothing on how he was raised or how he looked like when he was younger, he couldve looked like anything when he was a baby/toddler. It's very much up to interpretation and is very vauge, the only thing we got is how he acts and look like as an adult, sure you could study his behavior but it won't give you a lot to figure out his youth. Maybe he was a messy kid or a quiet kid, who knows. Pitch could've hid behind a parents leg when he was young when meeting new people, maybe he was pouty and liked studies (rare for young kids).

[nitunio]

7, 10, and 15!

THAJNKK YOU !!! FOR THE ! ASK ! INTERESTING STUFF..

its gonna b a bit long so i put it under a cut hohoho :)

7- Show us at least one picture you drew or sketched recently that you did not put on a public site.

I either don't remember if i posted or didn't post because it;s cringe or art study/warmup. like for example this is a warmup

and this ones cringe because i used the colour palette in a way that is no longer appealing to me and i keep chewing on wires over how bad it came out

10- What do you like most about your art?

I LOVE MY LINEART. I've been building my art foundation on the idea of lineart > anything else, and the structure, the texture, the variety and the flow are my bread and butter

Sometimes I get upset when I can't get a thing right after my first attempt or require many lines when I sketch because it goes against my whole notion of "less is more" . Because to me my overly messy unreadable sketches are the indecisive, directionless things I made that amount to no beauty

I also love my lineart that is very tiny, and my lineart that is large, because when I lineart I can express and I can show people where to look, where to linger, where I messed up, where I clearly spent more time than average.

15- What do you like drawing the least?

Process-wise I hate colouring but I think this question is about themes/subjects/etc??? So,

I hate tiny details on outfits. Sure they're fun to lineart but the begrudging realisation that after the lineart I'll have to spend at least 2-3 hours eyedropping and colouring it in I start dying inside a little bit. It pays off because it looks absolutely amazing but also. fuck!!! It's rotten work I'll do it but christ alive

I also dislike foliage and nature in general because of how easy it is to mess it up. One wrong stroke and you're done - it's not a bush it's a pile of green slime

and that;s about it!!! Sometimes I don't like drawing many other things but these two are up there ^__^

Thaaaanks for letting me ramble!!!!

[haeroniel-doliet]

Bonus content for dinluke big bang pieces pt 3!: enjoy this timelapse of the process for the chapter 7 piece. This is mostly for the curious/myself for future reference, more thoughts and details on my process below the cut!

So glad in hindsight that I turned on the recordings because I genuinely think looking through these videos and commenting on them in between finishing pieces has actually really helped me refine things and improve!

This one I think is the least messy overall since the goal has been pretty clear since the beginning and it had much less intense of a background

We started brainstorming this before even the chapter was written! How exciting to have been part of a project where I actually got to work with an author and collaborate on the vision for a scene in their story

Hence the multiple little key frames to figure out what kind of story is being shared (also for future ref, definitely should do those kind of thumbnails more often to flesh out the composition early on

Had an awful time trying to draw Dins face honestly it is rough (I know his face is so nice and unique hence so hard to get right) Feel free to skip to about 0:35 to skip the worst of the somewhat cringey struggles.

I had a big issue constantly feeling like Luke was so stiff and sometimes doll like sometimes just so unemotive. Hence in between trying to go for an extra soft and emotive face that eventually I thought was just too extreme (like also figuring out that Din isn't concerned/scared here, but happy with a smidge of bittersweet reserve

It's honestly wild looking at the end result beside this, I had many a point I had no idea how this would turn out in the end!

Note I finally got to trying to colour them in and colourpicked from the previous piece for luke (far too pale for the setting here!) My boys been in the sun now, in the beginning being pale made sense he was also losing blood yknow

Really painted din too tanned to start with thanks to having the reference pics for these both be wildly over exposed for luke and in a lot of shadows and yellow lighting for din (and he wouldn't be so tanned having hid under a helmet for so long right?) So I spent a good bit of time adjusting them to fit slightly dimmed and shadowed outside light and not be so wildly overly contrasting to each other

And overall trying to add more colour variety! We're not in the cave anymore where everything was dulled

The tarp was giving me a bit of a nightmare until I remembered I can just reference basically the tarps i've slept under in scouts so often! No need to make it anymore complicated and it's so cozy (just had to fanangle it so it showed enough of their faces while still cozy and sheltering)

Almost had another nightmare with the forest but then figured it really doesn't need to be more than a suggestion and went with the whole lens blur effect (the boxes kind of suck but they do their job and yes I painted them mid committee meeting that I was definitely caring a lot about)

Finally rain and other little details, some little things I was left thinking I could do better even more refined even more clean and better but just. honestly? I was done and any further tiny editing would only ever be noticed by me and this was good enough and it was time to let it be done, don't you agree?

Fun fact I think this had made me realize you know, it looks like mine, this looks like I made it, maybe it means its in the style I have now maybe? It's not photo realistic and its not meant to be, it looks like the best I myself can do this moment in time

Alright future me: A reminder that this isn't perfect but it's a genuine big achievement. Finishing all these three with the level of ambitious detail and background you set out to? and only being almsot 1 week overdue on the final one? Thats impressive that's more than i've ever done, digitally especially. This is an achievement and I should be proud! Hopefully I remember to learn from these successess and stop spending forever agonising over little details so much so that it's not fun anymore (a little agonising is okay otherwise I'd have been okay with those multiple failed faces etc) but that taking the pieces from sketch/lineart to this? not even perfect paintings like the super talented people but even still much more engaging and interesting and complete looking. I can do it! And hopefully I can do more like this in the future for myself because being this proud of myself is worth it.

[eeclare]

Bob’s Burgers Character Bedrooms pt. 2

Starting off with our hot gurl Tammy :)

Tammy fell for the 2019/2020 Tik tok trend of the LED lights

She def made her dad build her some sort of canopy for her bed

And ofc he agreed because she is his little princess

She also fell into the vine decor trend so that’s there

She wants to become an influencer BAD

Like currently, that is her number one goal in life

Hence the ring light and the very bare and “aesthetically pleasing” walls

Let’s pretend that those records are Harry Styles vinyls

She really really thinks pink is her colour so most things in her room coordinate with that general colour scheme

She has her own “walk in” closet (walk in is in quotations because it’s prettttyyy tiny, she just wants people to think it’s a full walk in closet)

That’s why she doesn’t have a dresser

Our girly Tammy is not a clean lady

Like, she doesn’t have garbage all over her room but she just throws her clothes and everything on the floor

But she thinks it’s okay because her parents hire a house cleaner once a week

She has one of those cool vanities with the Hollywood lights

Because she BEGGED for one for her 12th birthday

she wants to become the internet’s next favourite beauty guru so she hopped right on the “healthy water trend”

So there’s a lil tumbler on her nightstand

She films grwm vlogs and films days in her life

I fully believe that she is one of those girls that cover themselves in perfume instead of deodorant because she’s convinced it makes her smell amazing

Jocelyn :D

Her room’s kinda small but she and her mum decorated it rlly nicely to make up for it

Jocelyn says she made most of the design choices, but it was mostly her mum’s doing when it comes to the vanity and wall colour lol

She Fr loves her room tho so it doesn’t even matter

She isn’t as much of a makeup girl as Tammy is, but she dabbles in natural eyeshadow shades and she takes her skin care seriously

At her mum’s suggestion, naturally

Honestly, her mum gives her pretty good advice

Tammy convinced her to do the healthy water trend too

We love our healthy queens

Tammy doesn’t have a full length mirror anymore so whenever they’re hanging out at Jocelyn’s house they HAVE to take a billion OOTD selfies in her mirror

Jocelyn too fell into the vine decor rabbit hole, except she switched it up a bit with the pop of floral by her bed

J-Ju!

Jimmy Jr. has two rooms

This one is the bedroom he has when he’s with Jimmy Sr.

The thing is though, he really hates this room

His dad has always wanted him to be into sports, so his room is basketball themed

Jimmy Pesto knew his son would be tall as he grew up, so he always pushed him HARD to be a basketball player

But J-Ju HATES it

He’s just not into it

But he really does like baseball!

So Jimmy Sr. is at least a little bit happy with the choices his kid makes

The room though, it just isn’t him

The colours just don’t suit him (that’s what Zeke says) and the vibe is off

J-Ju still sleeps with his childhood stuffed animal

It’s piglet from Winnie the Pooh

He’s also kinda a messy kid

Clothes and garbage and Gatorade bottles EVERYWHERE

Jimmy Sr. doesnt really give a fuck though

Just kinda lets J-Ju clean as he pleases

Don’t worry guys, Jimmy Jr. still has bits and pieces of himself around the room

His fav. Comic book characters are on his walls, and he even convinced his dad to get him a figurine of his number one character!

The sloth snake is only really there because Zeke got it for him

Don’t get him wrong, he likes sloth snake, it just isn’t his favourite thing really

But it’s just one more thing he can use to bond with Zeke, so he’ll put the poster up if he has to

(but there is a reason he put it up in the room he spends the least amount of time in)

Because of their custody agreement, J-Ju and Andy and Ollie are only at Jimmy Sr.’s every two weeks

J-Ju pt. 2!

This is his room at his mum’s house!

His mum moved into a house in suburbia and it has a very clean white kind of aesthetic

And she isn’t a neat freak or anything, but his mum does like to keep the house clean

So she’ll go in during the week that he’s with his dad and just organize things again

She doesn’t want to be one of those snoopy type mothers

But she did put a plant in Jimmy Jr.’s room so that she would have an excuse to go in there and “notice that his rooms a mess” so she can clean it

He does bring piglet with him from home to home, just don’t tell anyone that

J-Ju has read exactly three books and he displays them very proudly on his bookshelf

They’re the first Harry Potter book (he likes the movies better), The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe, and the book Wonder (he cried when he finished reading it, he was just so emotional)

His mum also bought him figurines of his fav. Comic book characters

Except he didn’t even have to ask her for them, she just knows what he likes and wants lol

Even though she completely supports Jimmy’s passion for the art of dance, she secretly wishes he was more into sports like basketball (she is a big b-ball fan lmfao)

So she did frame a jersey and put it above his bed

Just in hopes that maybe it will inspire him

It doesn’t though, obviously

Peep the lil heart-shaped pillow Jimmy Jr. Is failing really hard at hiding

It’s from Tina, for Valentine’s Day

He keeps it because he really likes her, he’s just not sure if it’s in THAT way, you know?

His mum makes sure he always has a glass of water on his nightstand

“He has to keep hydrated”, she says

The only things she doesn’t clean up is his baseball equipment

She just isn’t sure where to put it all

The lion is from some soccer camp he did once as a kid

Its the first award type thing he’s ever won and he’s still pretty proud of it

Also hope you caught a glance of the cologne that J-Ju stole from his dad on the dresser

Iykyk

And ofc peep the LED light strips lmao

The death grip they had on teenagers

Andy and Ollie’s turn

Ollie is on the left, Andy’s on the right

Ollie has a weird lol shrimp stuffed toy that he just LOVES and Andy has a sheepdog looking toy, mostly because he doesn’t want to be left out

This is their room in Jimmy Sr.’s house btw

When Jimmy Pesto moved into his apartment after his divorce, he let the twins pick out their own wallpaper

He regrets it every day

They also picked out the bunny bookcase

As if Jimmy Sr. Didn’t have enough problems

They both got some of those glow in the dark stars

They love them

They also have cat and dog themed beds

It just makes sense for their characters, okay?

I don’t have a headcannon for why

The sleep in the same bed btw (Andy’s)

No matter how much their dad complains, they will keep sleeping together forever

This room is kinda Baren

They like their room at their dad’s house but all the toys and stuff Jimmy has for them are from when they were toddlers

He always complains that their mum babies them and is making them soft and while that may be true, he kinda babies them even more

He just doesn’t really know what they like anymore

But they still love him and their bedroom

The boys are avid colour-ers

You can see the evidence on their floor

But the pictures aren’t there because Jimmy Sr. Put their art on his fridge Awwh

And and Ollie pt. 2

Their room at their mum’s house!

She mostly decorated it

She knew better than to let them choose their own wallpaper

Their mum gives them more interactive toys

The dollhouse is one of their favs

Even if their dad says it’s “girly” whatever that means

Their bunk bed is very them

Just colourful and happy

They got to pick out their bed decor since it’s kinda like their own individual little spaces

They’re still very similar though

And they still sleep together, just so you know

But this time it’s in Ollie’s bed (the bottom bunk) because the twins (mostly Ollie) are afraid of heights

Their mum didn’t want to clutter their walls or anything, so she figured the flower painting was enough

Just a lil pop of colour

The flowers are again, for her own gain lmao

The boys have pillows that they sit on while they’re colouring

And their mum would but their artwork up on her fridge, really, she WOULD

It’s just that her fridge is already decked out in not only their art but also pics of them and J-Ju

She just cannot fit anything more

Zeke :3

Zeke’s bedroom is a lil different

He lives in a trailer with his dad and stepmom, so because of limited space he has to share his room with his new baby brother

Zeke loves his little brother with his whole heart (he would die for him) but dang he just wants his own space

Every time he looks at his lil bro though, he changes his mind

He is just so gash darn cute

When he was decorating the baby’s side of the room with Cheryl, he made SURE to tape a Bulko poster next to his brother’s crib

Gotta have something there to inspire him

Zeke is convinced his baby brother is going to become the world greatest wrestler (well, second after himself, of course)

His room gets hot as all he’ll at night so naturally he has a fan in there

The only issue now is that he has to share the cool air in the coming summertime

His favourite show ever is Sloth Snake

And he was lucky enough to snag TWO posters so that J-Ju could have a matching one!

I am personally convinced that Zeke is a Jess-style reader from Gilmore girls

Like, personality-wise he is NOT Jess

But hell does he sure read like him

Just the most pretentious books/novels

Not that he’ll ever admit it to anyone

I absolutely HAD to give him a sports water bottle

It kinda reminds me of those green Gatorade ones that every athlete and their mother has

And YES CHERYL he KNOWS he has to move the weight off the floor when the baby starts crawling -_-

Regular-Sized Rudy

This is Rudy’s room when he’s staying with his dad

He doesn’t keep a TON of stuff here, mostly just because he spends most of his time at his mums house

And plus, there’s not much he can do to alter his room since his dad’s just leasing the condo

He has his flounder plushie. He’s obsessed with that thing

Tissues next to his bed because he has allergies all of the time

His favourite comic book series makes posters and he HAD to have the fish guy

His dad kinda uses his room to put random stuff in

Like the bonsai trees

Rudy won’t say it to his face, but he does not care about those plants in the slightest

He also has never played baseball and neither has his dad? So where did that ball come from??

The car is vintage, it’s his dads old toy

He loves to bring it in for show and tell

Rudy also likes aliens and outer space

But it’s not one of his main interests at all so he keeps it on the downlow

He and his dad play competitive ping pong together

It’s one of the few sports that he can play as long as he has a puff of his inhaler between each set(?)

Needless to say, he does NOT miss this room when he’s with his mum, that’s for sure

Regular-sized Rudy pt. 2

This is his room at his mum’s now house

This used to be where he and his mum AND dad lived before the divorce

Which is why it’s a little more personalized

He loves to read and his mum loves it when he reads so she keeps his bookshelf stocked

The fish guy figurine was bought for him by his dad, he just prefers to keep it in this room

His dad understands (at least, Rudy thinks he does)

I’m going to pretend that green toy is a borobu plush lol

Louise is mega jealous because it’s an official licensed one

But now he knows what to get her for her birthday, so..

His mum keeps medicated ointment and sunscreen on his bookcase for easy access

She is a teeny bit of a helicopter mommy

His flounder plush comes with him back and forth

He really likes music (obviously, he spends his free time playing in his school’s orchestra)

So when he was little his dad bought him his own radio

He listens to it every night before bed and every morning when he’s getting ready for school

Again, he likes outer space, so he absolutely had to have those glow in the dark wall stars

His mum has a humidifier in his room because it helps him breathe at night

Or at least that’s what she says, and who is he to disagree with her?

Millie

Millie’s room is essentially a replica of Louise’s room, just with a few personalized touches here and there

She demanded a Kitty for her birthday so she got one

It’s name is Princess Sparkle Rainbow Muffin

Or at least, that’s what she tells Louise (his real name is Keith)

She doesn’t have Louise’s most current bed

Her parents had to draw the line somewhere, I guess

Her mum also wouldn’t let her get any of those LED light strips even though “Louise has them mom! I NEED THEM”

She read some article about the adhesive attracting bugs and noped the fuck out of that

So they compromised and she got string lights that she literally never turns on

Millie isn’t a huge fan of Kuchi Kopi

So she doesn’t sleep with him

But she still has one

Just cuz

The only other mentionable thing is her cactus

Idk, I wanted to give her some sort of carnivorous plant but they didn’t have any so I had to make do with what I had

Millie would totally have a Venus fly trap and she would keep that thing alive and FED

Lowkey I think that she got into the same comic series as the other boys I’ve made rooms for, so she has a poster of the crystal ball thing

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

𝙳𝙰𝚈 𝚃𝙷𝚁𝙴𝙴: Decorating the Tree w/ Aaron Hotchner

a/n: omg i am so sorry that i'm three days behind on this challenge, ao3 messed up my tags on all 103 fics so i've had to go back and relabel all of them. thank you so much for your patience, and this challenge has now officially begun!

masterlist | ficmas masterlist | AO3

You were sure that ninety-nine percent of the time, you were babysitting little Jack Hotchner while his dad was out saving lives. You had entered the single father's life when he needed your help the most.

You knew Haley's sister, and she had recommended you when she couldn't watch the boy. At first, you were hesitant, seeing as though how hectic his work hours were, and you were still in college. But you were well graduated by now, and more than willing to watch Jack for days, even weeks on end, and it wasn't just because of your admiration of his father.

Was the whole 'babysitter having a crush on the father' thing a bit cliche? Of course it was, and you would feel ashamed if it wasn't for the way that he looked at you when he had gotten home.

Jack was sure that this would be another December without his father, and you were determined to distract the saddened boy by showing up to the apartment with all sorts of fun arts and crafts, and tonight, you guys were going to make some ornaments. Of course you didn't give him the glass kind, but the cheap wooden ones that were shaped in either a star or a tree, there wasn't much variety, but Jack seemed hellbent on putting as much detail onto the tree that he chose as he could.

"Do you think daddy will like it?" You heard him pipe up from besides you. You were working on an ornament of your own, your fingers wet with glue as a piece of a pipe cleaner stuck to it. The tree had a poorly drawn star on the top that was then filled in with yellow glitter glue. Beads were glued in place of the bulbs, some ranging from red, blue, to purple; it was a colourful mess and you loved it so much.

"It looks great buddy!" You praised him enthusiastically. You gently wove your finger through the white string that would soon be used to hang it up on the tree. "Once it dries, you wanna put it right next to your dad's FBI ornament?" You asked with a smile. He nodded with a small pout, beginning to rub his eye in a attempt to wash away the tiredness.

"Yeah." He said quietly. Your smile softened, gently setting the piece down as you gripped his tiny hand, "C'mon," You said, "Let's put you to bed."

He went down without a fight, you tucking him in as you placed a warm kiss to his forehead.

You wished that it could always be like this, you putting him to bed as you treated to you and Aaron's room, but it wasn't right, and you knew that it wasn't, but why did you want it so bad?

You began to decorate the tree that you had managed to get out from the hall closet that it was stuffed into. It wasn't anything too impressive, but it was good enough for you as you did as you promised, putting his father's FBI vest ornament near the very top. Your ears piqued when you heard the front door quietly open, shutting with faint click as you listened to Aaron kick off his shoes.

You knew the man must've been tired, and with all of the lights off, the only thing illuminating the entire apartment being the Christmas lights, you wouldn't be surprised if he just straight up passed out.

You watched as Aaron's eyes fell on to his messy dinning table, which had all sorts of fun things scattered on it. He picked of Jack's tree, examining it.

"Be careful," You called out to him softly, "It might be wet still. I hadn't put Jack down that long ago, if you want to see him. There's also dinner in the fridge, it should still be warm, but y'know, it's cold and all that." You rambled aimlessly. "Thank you." Aaron had finally said, stomping over to you.

"You didn't have to do this." Motioning to your splurging of Christmas decorations. You just shrugged, grinning at him. "It was the least I could do, Aaron. Plus, I like doing this, and it was totally worth it, because Jack had a fun time too." You could see a grin of his own tugging at the corner of his lips. "Is that so?" You nodded, "Yep. Who do you think that tree is for?"

And you could've sworn you saw his eyes light up.

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @their-love

[myers-meadow]

Michael's Valentine

Title: Valentine in Smith's Grove.

Content and warnings: fluff, no warnings that I can think of. Reader is a nurse, as well as a student. Nothing about appearance or gender mentioned. Then it is Feb. 14 and something unexpected happens :))). Enjoy!

Wordcount: 700 or

Another one for @krakersy. Writing equivalent of heart shaped sticker.

Divider by @/firefly-graphics

As a nurse still in school, work at Smith’s Grove was especially tiring. It wasn’t the patients as much as it was the bleak hallways, the way the work times just started a bit too early, and the breaks came just a little too late for a natural rhythm. Your supervisors let you bring homework and articles to read on break or whenever there was a lull in what needed to be done. Sometimes you were assigned to supervise patients during their media or lounge hours, and a few of them were so calm that they allowed you to read even then. It helped immensely to have those few extra hours to read things, so you wouldn’t have to stay up as late. The kindest patients showed interest in your studies and you gladly told them, almost as if revising together.

One of the patients was the giant Michael. Many a time, new nurses found themselves assigned to his care, and promptly changing shifts. You adored the time you spent supervising him however, as he was quiet, calm and not difficult to work with. He worked on his masks or read newspapers in silence, allowing you to do homework. At times, once you got home and opened the books again, a small note would be there. Just small things, saying hi at first, then questions about your readings, the subjects or things he didn’t understand. His curiosity was endearing, and it was refreshing to see someone take a genuine interest in the subjects without needing to study it for a grade.

After the seasonal holidays and New Year’s, the mood was low. Illinois was cold and the buildings with their concrete walls seemed to be penetrated by tiny cracks that made the stale hallways cold. Valentine’s approached. A time like none other to help decorate the rooms and hallways with tacky pink and red hearts. Co-workers gossiped. Patients made paper decorations, snipping contently away at crepe paper banners.

“Darling, come help hang up these ones. You have young joints, still,” instructed one of the elder supervisors. The lunchroom was filled with patients eating or chatting and although getting on the shaky steps that were set up for the occasion didn’t seem appealing, it was nice to stretch your cramped legs. The crepe paper rustled in your hands, the texture rough. The steps creaked but proved sturdy and just as you leaned down to descend, you met eyes with Michael. He was watching you intently, not moving a muscle to recognise the eye contact. You tried a smile, but were a little frazzled by his attention. And so the lunchbreak passed. Hanging up large red hearts and flags and banners while continually feeling his eyes on you.

Valentine’s approached quick. The quips from co-workers about finding a date got old a week ago, even if most of them were out of genuine interest. Once again, you were assigned to supervise Michael’s lounge time, and with a particularly important exam coming up, your nose was buried in books, with a notebook by your side to write down notes that didn’t fit in the margins. The old record player played something overly sappy by Elvis, but at least it was easy to tune out.

Near the end of the afternoon, a paper fell onto the book with an unceremonious splat. You jolted up, face to face with Michael, in a new mask, crude as many others, in red and pink tones, which were outlined by black. He briskly turned around and walked to the exit, leaving you there startled and surprised. The paper was one of the pink hearts that also lined the walls. His was decorated with crepe paper in different colours, yellow and white and blue, but of more significance: scribbles in pen, of you, rather messy sketches they were, but recognisable and endearing. The heart read, in white paint; 'be my Valentine?'

The rest of the day you evaded questions about the exchange, even Dr. Loomis had a chat with you, all the while you hid the heart in your bag, careful not to fold it, and repressed the smile that spread on your face any time you thought of him. Such a moment was out of character for him, and however surprising, you already had plans to sneak in some of your cookies next time you could catch him alone. Perhaps working here won't be as dull anymore.

[ameagrice]

Capsize

Chapter Three

Hey There, Brainiac | Percy Jackson x Fem!Reader.

Travis. Stoll.

Two words. A simple little name. And one annoying ass boy. The name of the grinning boy sitting opposite you on a messy bed, his long legs sweeping the floor as he swung them. Curly, dark hair flopped over his forehead gently, and even though your eyes were narrowed, and you were frowning at him from the small space opposite, you had to admit that he was…cute. But he was older than you, you could tell.

“So,” he muttered quietly, and your eyes fell to him in the warm, dim light from your bedside. The curtains were pulled around everyone else’s bed, though there were only two others in what Mr. Brunner called the sick cabin. “How’d you break your wrist?”

You were still drenched from the rain, shivering, while someone went to find someone who could find you fresh, warm clothes. At least the girl in charge of the sick bay tonight was kind enough to offer you a towel. You’d struggled a little to wrap it around you, but managed in the end. And then in came this thin, lean guy, dressed in khaki flannel pyjama pants and a baggy grey tee. His eyes were maybe the colour of chocolate, you guessed in the dim light that showed you both enough to see, but enough to give off shadows.

“There was a thing,” you said in return, quietly. You weren’t smiling the way he was. “It was tall. It had horns like an animal.”

“Was it a ram?” He joked, a cheeky grin on his face.

But your distressed expression didn’t change. “No,” you shook your head, eyes burning with tears unshed. “Mr. Brunner called it a Minotaur.”

If this had been any normal night, you might have found amusement in the way this boy’s cheeky smile dropped. But he turned pale, and his mouth gaped. “What?”

You sniffled and raised your good arm to wipe your tears away. “I don’t understand where we are.”

But oh, you knew where you were. You’d touched the surfaces and the warm bed sheets you sat on. You’d watched them tuck Percy into the one further away from you and close the curtain around his bed. At first you’d screamed, thinking he was dead, but that turned out to not be the case. Mr. Brunner explained that you were at Camp Half-Blood. A camp for demigods.

You’d laughed. And then cried some more and panicked because oh my god the Latin teacher is a horse. Everything he said felt like a bad dream. But…your wrist hurt too bad for you to be sleeping. And Percy’s nose bled. And the horn he’d gripped in his hand was stained red and jagged too. It was all very much real.

Apparently the Greek gods were real. You told Mr. Brunner to go fall off a cliff. You felt loopy; out of it. You had a sneaking suspicion that you’d been drugged somewhere somehow. Because how was any of this real? It couldn’t be.

And yet it was.

The boy opposite was smiling no more. He stopped swinging those pyjama-clad legs. His hands were flat on the bed, holding himself up.

“We’re all a bit like this at first,” he said, without the humoured tone he’d held before. “It’s hard to get your head around. But it’ll start to make sense soon. You missing a mom or a dad?”

You sniffled, grimacing at the snot. “Mom.”

“Got any particular talents? Hobbies or—”

Was he trying to distract you? What was this guy’s issue, getting all up in your business? But…he seemed nice enough. You didn’t trust him completely; you’d only just met him, didn’t know him properly. But what harm would a few tiny pieces of information do?

“I love reading. And history. You know, like world wars and all that. Clothes. I don’t mind kayaking.” You shrugged your shoulders, eyes on the floor. You began to swing your own feet.

Travis was quiet. You were exhausted. But in this strange and unfamiliar place, could you really afford to fall asleep?

It was going calmly…up until the medic woman tried to get you to eat a block of…something.

You stood on the bed in your dry clothes, socks that were too big but comfortable, too-big leggings and an oversized black hoodie. You refused to get down. Travis, who had a big purple lump on his temple where he said he’d fallen out of bed, was smirking as you launched one of the amber-coloured blocks at the medic.

“This could be drugs! Class A’s!” You hissed. Travis was in stitches on his bed. You threw a cube at him and watched as he picked it up from his lap and——“Don’t eat it! Idiot! You might die!”

“Trust me,” his words were barely comprehensible as he ate. You stared, wide-eyed and frozen in place standing on the bed, as he began to pull back the bed covers. He looked up and met your panicked gaze. “You’ll be fine. See?” He tapped a finger against his bruise—or, you realised, expression falling, where his bruise was, as the lump had gone down drastically, the colour more blue than purple now.

You refused to eat the cube. Who knew what it was made of? Instead, you allowed the medic camper to bandage your wrist properly with white gauze over and over and round, and a metal plate that bent with enough pressure, from your knuckles to your elbow, and told you to keep it elevated on some pillows when you slept.

Travis had pulled closed the curtain around his bed, and you sat for a while just thinking. It was too unfamiliar of a place to sleep. And too unbelievable. A whole camp in the woods in the middle of nowhere? Percy’s mom crushed by some thing? Percy unconscious? The Latin being a horse? The Greek Gods being…real.

But, some things began to make sense. Wilderness therapy meant sleeping outside under tarps. It meant hearing and seeing strange things you’d accounted to be just side effects of tiredness. What if they hadn’t been hallucinations? What if they’d been real?

Eventually, you managed to clamber under the covers, laying on your side, but too suspicious and scared to sleep. Every time you closed your eyes, you saw that thing, the Minotaur, and every time you saw it, you heard it. You tossed and turned, unable to get comfortable, and eventually simply sat up. You looked around, the light still on and providing sight even with the curtain shut around your bed. Your eyes fell to the cupboard; and on it lay a long, red ribbon. It was thin and bright, and you reached out for it. Maybe somebody had left it here. Who knew.

You decided to keep it, and loosely tied it around your wrist.

In the end, you watched the colours of the room change slowly, getting lighter and lighter, from barely bright, dull blue, to lighter sunshine. During breakfast, in which Travis kept whisper-shouting your name as others were still asleep, throwing pieces of toast to you from across from you, you ate cautiously. Who knew what was in this stuff?

“Did you come here with that guy?”

Now that made you look up from your food. Travis was looking at you expectantly.

“What guy?” You asked, giving him an ‘are you stupid?’ look.

Travis nodded his head to the curtain around Percy’s bed. You nodded too.

“Yeah. His name’s Percy.”

“Cool, cool. You guys friends?”

“Yeah.”

You quietly ate your toast. Until Mr. Brunner—Chiron, you corrected, feeling odd about it—came to collect you, and mentioned giving you a tour of the Hermes cabin.

“What’s that?” You pulled a face, dropping your toast back down to the plate with a floppy slap. Travis snickered. “Some kind of groupie thing? I’m not singing songs like a four-year-old.”

Mr. Brunner—Chiron, you corrected yourself again annoyedly—smiled gently. “I’m sure Travis here can show you around the cabin—”

“If we can get around it,” Travis muttered, winking cheekily when you looked at him.

“And a tour of camp, if you will, Travis?”

“Sure thing.”

Someone brought you clothes. Who’s clothes they were, you had no idea. They were that bit too big, and you could only thank whichever girl they belonged to for the belt she’d left you with. These baggy blue jeans were rolled up at the bottom, your converse had dried out outside where you left them, and the white tee you tucked in was comfortable. All you had to do was sort your hair out, and away you went, following after Travis.

You tried to sneak a peak at Percy as you passed. And your heart clenched in…god, something different to being jealous over Grover. This time, it was a girl feeding your best friend. Some liquid. Off a spoon.

You frowned harshly. So this stranger could be with Percy, and you couldn’t?

“Who’s that?” You asked Travis on your way out. He stopped in front of you where he’d been leading the way, and the two of you turned your attention to the blonde girl feeding Percy.

“Hm? Oh, that’s Annabeth.” He turned back around and pushed open the door. “Let’s go, Mary Jane.”

You raised a brow, following him down the steps. “Mary Jane?” You repeated, in a ‘seriously?’ tone. “What’s a Mary Jane.”

“You,” Travis snickered. “C’mon, Mary. You walk like a snail.”

“That’s funny, because snails don’t have feet.”

“How d’you know?”

You frowned, but a small laugh escaped. “Because they slide. If they had feet then they’d walk.”

“Stop Talking about snails,” Travis shivered dramatically. “It’s creeping me out.”

“Snail shells. Snail trails. Slimy, slimy snai—”

“Dude!” He made a gagging sound, leaning over dramatically, and you laughed out loud. You swear you saw that cheeky, mischievous smile appear on his face. But you ignored it.

The two of you walked down the bright green hills, Travis giving commentary as you went. He pointed left, to where a brilliant lake shone. “That’s the lake.”

“No way,” you gasped dramatically, as a joke, and when he turned to you with a deadpan expression you grinned. “Sorry. Carry on.”

“We kayak, canoe, swim, all the lovely stuff. It happens there.”

“Do you get snails there too?”

“Talk about snails one more time and you’ll find out, Mary.”

You continued walking. There were kids of all ages everywhere. Travis pointed out the archery range, in a slightly wooded area where kids were shooting real metal arrows straight at objects of varying size. Then there were the strawberry fields—Travis pointed out that wood nymphs and children of Demeter typically spent their time there. You questioned what a Demeter was, and he had to explain in detail who all of the gods were. You still felt like you were hallucinating, or having a very long dream.

Afterward came the open air theatre, the dining pavilion, the cabins, the weapons ranges, the camp store. The woods, you decided, looked peaceful. Up until Travis mentioned there being monsters in there. So you changed your mind.

Finally, you came back around to the cabins, where he explained each one. Aphrodite, Apollo, Zeus, Hera, Artemis, Hermes, Hephaestus, Poseidon.

“Aaaand, here we are,” he announced proudly, waving a hand to the brown cabin. “Hermes. My dad, your…I don’t know, you just stay here until you have a proper cabin to stay in.”

“When will I?” You asked innocently, looking at his eyes. You were right; they were like chocolate.

A twang of embarrassment went through your chest when he laughed. “Who knows. Don’t say that in front of anyone else. You’d be bullied.”

He manoeuvred around you and placed both hands on your shoulders. You tried to shake him off, this taller boy with a cheeky smile, and tried to wiggle away. But he pushed you right to the flaking, fading door of the cabin, and you were forced to try the door.

Inside must have been maybe…thirty campers? What shocked you more was the sheer amount of sleeping bags and duvets and pillows just thrown across the floor. But at each of those were…some bags, like smaller wash bags, and little moulds under sleeping bags which told you someone had hidden something under there.

The talking stopped immediately. All campers looked to you. One person snickered, and you felt your cheeks go hot. “Undecided or…?”

“Undecided.”

The amount of groans that went though the room forced you to step back. And right into Travis. He didn’t say anything but patted your shoulder, before moving away, leaving an arm around your shoulders. You shrugged one but to no avail.

“I mean, she only got here last night, so there’s still time.”

“I’ve been here four years and I’m still in here. You think she’s gonna be claimed?”

“What does claimed mean?” You decided to be brave and speak loudly. Better to show these kids, some older than you and tougher looking, some smaller and younger, that you weren’t afraid.

“It means your parent—mom or dad—will show everyone that you’re their daughter. Then you move into your assigned cabin and leave us beautiful people behind.” A tall, lanky girl with a bright green tie tied around her head with the long piece hanging over her shoulder, looked between two other girls around her age who sat on the floor with her. They giggled, and you instantly hardened. You couldn’t look weak now. You had to make an impression.

“Anyway, so this is our cabin. Hermes, Patron of travellers, explorers, thieves,” he winked again. You were about to make a comment about it before he continued. “And, for now, this is your cabin. You’ll have to burn food for Dad at dinner.”

You scrunched your nose. “Why would I burn my food?”

“In thanks,” the bandana girl rolled her eyes when you looked at her, and she smiled meanly at the other two at her side as they giggled. “Do you know nothing?”

Obviously not, you wanted to snap back.

“So…” you looked around, speaking slowly as you took in the space. Or, really, the lack of. “Where do I sleep?”

“Find a space on the floor and it’s all yours. Just remember to hide your stuff—if you don’t, it’ll go like that,” he snapped his fingers.

Your eyes widened. Between his index and middle finger was the red ribbon, the one that had been tied around your wrist. “How—”

He smirked and dropped part of it for it to dangle in front of your face. “Magic.”

“Magic, my ass,” you rolled your eyes, taking it back.

Travis sighed. “Right, I’ll leave you to it unless you want me to help you explore the pl—"

You wanted to say no. You wanted him to leave you alone. But at the same time, Percy was unconscious, you knew nobody else, and you had no idea what any sort of schedule or rota was like. So you said.

“Yes,” you cut him off. “Please.” You added.

If anything, you needed somewhat a friend, considering the circumstances. And if Travis was the one here available for that, you’d take the offer.

So you both set off again.

It took Percy three whole days to wake up. The time in which you grew acquainted with camp.

Your first night in the Hermes cabin was spent being woken up at all hours of the night to a kid no older than six kicking you in his sleep. You woke with backache every morning and heard it pop as you were forced up and out of your sleeping bag to rush to breakfast. Which, you soon found out, proved to be a difficult situation, as well. The amount of kids in the Hermes cabin was obviously a lot more than the other cabins. You found yourself squished too tightly between people or hanging on to the edge desperately. 

  You adored two things in the early hours of the morning, though. And that was the plates and the cups. 

  You’d watched and wondered as those around you looked at the empty, sparkling plates in front of them, and said something. It could have been a certain type of cereal, or toast and jam, or chocolate Poptarts. Then, they would ask the cup for something; those short, round, white breakfast cups, and they would fill with whatever liquid you asked for. You definitely felt as if you weren’t awake, then. Until you tried it for yourself, pinched your skin, and realised once more, that you were not in the land of dreams.

  When Percy woke, the Annabeth girl fetched you. You’d been in the Hermes cabin avoiding canoeing. Your talk with Travis came to a sudden stop when she burst through the door and called your name, looking slightly annoyed and bored. 

  “He’s asking for you,” she said, meeting your eyes. Travis coughed to your side, and nudged you. You ignored him. 

  “Percy?” You asked, finding your feet and rushing after her. “He’s awake?” 

  “Yeah. And he’s pretty annoying, if you ask me.”

  I didn’t sat on your tongue, waiting to fall from your lips. You managed against it. And soon, you were tackling Percy into a strong hug as Grover helped him up from his seat on the decking of the big blue house. You could have cried in relief. You had someone just as lost as you finally at your side again. Percy’s green eyes were tired, and weary, as if he’d only just woken up and couldn’t see properly yet. But he managed a weak smile and held you just as tightly. And that was good enough for you. 

  “I have so much to tell you.” You murmured, sighing and closing your eyes. Percy’s arms around your upper back tightened, and then he sniffled. Your eyes flew open, and you blinked. Percy never...cried?

  “My mom,” he said with a struggle. “She’s dead.”

  What could you do to comfort him? You couldn’t change the past. 

  Eventually, you moved away. Percy was introduced to Mr. D, a god with serious drinking and anger issues, and reintroduced to Mr. Brunner, who was called Chiron here. Of course you both knew Grover already, so all that was left, was Annabeth. 

  And a comment dropped from Percy’s mouth, as his gaze swept from Annabeth to you. “You guys...look pretty similar.”

  Was that what Travis had been trying to get your attention for? You could see it slightly. You looked to Mr. Brunner. He was also looking between yourself and Annebeth. And Annabeth...was frowning. Deeply. 

  And that night, in the middle of dinner, as Travis slung an arm around your shoulder and you spouted an old and complicated line from Shakespeare’s Othello, you watched with baited breath as people fell to one knee, leaving you standing, as the room area glowed bright, and warm. 

  And while Mr. Brunner was the one to announce you a daughter of Athena, Goddess of War and Wisdom, Travis only grinned lopsidedly, and swung his arm around your shoulder. 

  “Well, you can’t be Mary Jane anymore.” He thought aloud. “So,...hey, Brainiac. Nice to meet you.”

Chapter four

This chapter dragged. I’m sorry🙈

There’s a lot of Travis, and that’s because…he’s important to the story. He’ll crop up from time to time!

Taglist: @bl6ody @embersparklz @lilyevanswhore @rottenstyx @hawkeye12 @rory-cakes @i-am-scared-and-useless-bisexual

[kookicat]

The Chocolate Job

Chocolate work has never been his favourite- it's messy and fiddly and most days he's just not in the mood for it. But sometimes, the urge strikes him, and he locks himself away in whatever kitchen space they have with a 5lb bag of Callebaut chocolate buttons and gives into the urge. Usually it's truffles, or brownies, but this time he has something else in mind. 

Breanna had shown him a clip of the Chocolate Man (that's what she called him, capital letters and all) on the Tik Tok and well, the idea of sculpting something hadn't left his brain, tucking away like a damn earworm until he'd given in. He's starting small, mostly so he can melt the results down and hide them in his triple chocolate brownies if it all goes to crap. 

The chocolate melts smoothly and he mixes in more buttons, checking the temp until it's tempered and will set crisp and shiny. It's almost Christmas and he's picked up a set of moulds that should produce a chocolate gingerbread house, if he's lucky. If not, he's a professional and will hide all the evidence until he can try again. 

He pours the chocolate slowly, to make sure there's no air bubbles to ruin the structural integrity, and leaves them to set while he whips up some cookies to fill the inside. They're chocolate too, because he might as well stick with the theme. The dough comes together smoothly under his hands, and he lets his thoughts wander a little, now he's back on more familiar baking territory. 

Breanna is going to love this, he thinks, hands automatically patting the dough into a disk to be chilled. Unless Parker steals it first. Maybe I should make two. He snorts, and dumps the dough into the freezer, then raids the candy cupboard for decorations. There's stuff in every colour and form and he sifts through the packages until he finds one that catches his eye. They're Christmas m&m's, in bright green and red, and he lifts the bag down, popping a couple in his mouth before he dumps the rest in a bowl. Gotta have some quality control, he thinks and sneaks another before washing his hands. 

The stainless steel counter is chilly, and the chocolate house parts have set up nicely. He pops them free, carefully and lines them up on the counter while he grabs the cookie dough from the freezer and cuts rounds out of it. They go on a baking sheet, topped with just a touch of flaky salt, before he slides them into the oven. 

Now for the fiddly part, he thinks, half amused, because if someone had told him ten years ago he'd be building houses out of chocolate and enjoying it, he would have laughed in their face. And then got Hardison to find them a nice comfy padded room. It's not that he's grown more patient over the years, or at least he doesn't think so - it's more he can relax a little more now, because they're not the only ones doing the work. Though I'm still not sure Quinn will ever quite forgive me for dragging him into his, he thinks and grins, thinking of Quinn's last text. It had been borderline illegal in several states, but he'd picked up a couple of new curses, including one that had made Harry Wilson blush and Sophie cackle. 

He shakes his head and grabs the cake board he's using as a base, then fills a plastic piping bag with a tiny bit of melted chocolate to act as glue. Huh, that worked, he thinks as he picks up the first side and turns it towards the light. It's more detailed than he expected, with a brick pattern and detailing around the window. There's even ivy, trailing from where the roof will go and he has to admit that he's pretty impressed. He lays the first line of melted chocolate down and presses the section into place, blasting the whole lot with some freeze spray until he's convinced it isn't going to move. 

It's a tiny bit crooked, but he's satisfied that at least it isn't going to fall over. The timer pings for the cookies and he pulls them out, leaving them to cool before returning to his construction job. Getting the second side in place is harder, because the corner doesn't want to meet perfectly but through a combination of melted chocolate glue and freeze spray, he gets it to stay in place. The third side is easier, somehow, but he's not going to look a gift horse in the mouth and moves onto the last side. It's the most difficult yet, because he has to fit it between the two other sides without knocking them down. 

His hands and wrist are starting to feel strain and he pauses, flexing his hands until the discomfort passes and he can try again. This time, he gets the end into place, and feels like he has to twist himself into a pretzel to apply the chocolate glue and freeze spray. It stays, and it feels pretty solid when he pokes it carefully with one finger. 

The cookies have cooled- thank you, air conditioning - and he idly munches on one as he carries the tray to the other worktop, stacking them inside the house before he examines the roof. The gable ends of the house are slanted, to give the roof it's pitch, and he's not exactly sure if the melted chocolate and freeze spray will be enough to lock the roof pieces into place, or if he needs something more structural. Well, only one way to find out, he thinks and gets to work. 

Thirty minutes later, he steps back to examine the finished product, feeling oddly proud and protective of his creation. It's not perfect, not like the masterpieces the chocolate dude makes, but it's standing and stable, which is better than he expected. He adds a couple more m&m's for decoration and picks the cake board up, heading towards the main room. 

Breanna is at her desk, watching a newsreel from a country that he's never visited. Well, officially, at least, he thinks, and sets the house down casually on the desk behind her. 

"Made you something," he says casually, like he has a hundred times before and drops down on the couch, where he can still see her reaction. 

"Thank you," she says, absently, attention still on the screen. They have a good team in the area, and they're on the job. "A whole plate of cookies?" she says, sounding a little perplexed. 

"What? No!" he says, and pulls his attention from her screens. "The house." 

"The house?" Breanna repeats, carefully, like he's lost his marbles. 

"Yes, kiddo," he says and stands, so he can see the desk. The pile of cookies, house less desk. "Damnit Parker!" he yells, and hears her laugh from one of the vents.

Breanna bites a cookie and snickers and after a second, he joins in with her. I guess I'll be building another house, he thinks. 

[twink-between-worlds]

!!! well if you do requests could i please request some of the other members of the chain touching twilights shadow crystal and them getting beast forms? maybe some fox wild or humming bird four Please and thank you!! ^^ - 🐨

oo hell yeah hummingbird four you say 👀 short bc im sleeby (but i really liked this so i decided to write it now)

Four knows one rule that the others all have in common. Do not touch other people's things. Just...don't. If you have any self-preservation, you should not touch other people's items. It's like—an unspoken rule. And yet... What if we just looked at it? No, Red. Green, you have to admit you're a little curious too. I am not! Vi, don't encourage this please Aw, c'mon. We aren't going near Twilight's crystal. Four, however, decided to ignore the storm brewing in his head as he snuck closer to where Twilight was resting. Now—Four is no fool. Four knows what this does, it's how Twilight becomes Wolfie. Which is why this is absolutely a bad idea and he should not be doing it. Despite his voices of reason (which, surprisingly, Blue and Green are the reasonable ones today), Four reached out and grabbed the shadow crystal. It happened in an instant—one minute, he was holding Twilight's absolutely cursed necklace, and the next he was tiny. Or, well...tinier. He's smaller than he is in his minish form, which is pretty damn small. Another thing, he can't fucking talk. Twilight, thankfully, seemed to have felt his necklace being tugged and woke up, eyes darting around before glowing yellow eyes fixed onto a rainbow-coloured hummingbird on the grass next to him. Four's feathers are, of course, various shades of his colours; red, blue, green, and purple, but there was also a fair amount of black on there too. The rancher took a second, did a headcount of the chain, and then had the audacity to smirk. "Four?" Four let out an angry noise, but it wasn't very threatening. Twilight picked him up, a wide grin on his face. "A hummingbird...how cute."He laughed, poking the little bird gently, jumping when Four bonked his beak onto Twi's finger. "Ow! Little fucker.." Four hopped slightly, staring Twilight down. Change us back you asshole! "You wanna change back, don't ya?"Twilight hummed, laughing a bit when Four nodded to the best of his ability. "Alright. Alright, let's go wake Sky up." Before Four could even think, Twilight headed over and kicked Sky's side, causing the skyloftian to jolt awake. "Wha—huh?" "Hey Sky. We have a situation."Twilight whispered, kneeling down and presenting the hummingbird to Sky. "This is Four. He ended up in Legend's situation. Think you can help a guy out?" Sky was oddly quiet, staring at Four, before he let out a gentle coo. "He's so cute like this.." "He's also dangerous. Do you know how agressive small birds are?? Because they are very aggressive." "Can't we keep him like this?" "No, no we cannot." Sky pouted, and grabbed the master sword, before he paused. "Can I at least hold him?" Don't you dare. Oh, be nice Blue.. "Sure."Twilight shrugged, handing the small bird over despite the small chirps of protest. For a good five minutes, Sky just sat there and cooed at Four, admiting his feathers. "Sky, it's been five minutes—" "Okay, okay."Sky pouted, placing the master sword and Four down. When Four was back, as himself and not a bird, he sighed in relief, only to pause when he heard Sky and Twilight giggling. "What?" "Your hair looks as messy as your tunic does."

[just-a-normalpersons]

Soulmates

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Warning: Angst

AN: Soulmate AU in which your soulmates last words to you are written  on your wrist

You couldn’t stop staring at the words on your wrist. I love you. It seemed like the universe was trying to play a cruel joke on you. How could those be the last words you will ever hear your soulmate say. You had always been scared of commitment, but now you were absolutely terrified of love.

That was until you met her. She entered your life like a whirlwind of red, and you had no choice but to get swept up in it. The second Clint introduced you to the newest member of the Avengers, you knew you couldn’t escape your fate anymore.

No one had ever left an impression on you like Natasha Romanoff did. The first few weeks, you couldn’t seem to compose yourself around her, sending shifting glances all around the room whenever she would enter, shifting your weight from side to side and picking at your small silver watch.

Natasha being the world-class spy that she is, caught onto your nervousness quite quickly and made it her mission to give you more attention than the other Avengers, simply because she thought it was adorable how easily flustered and nervous you got around her.

Once you started to be more at ease around her, you started to know the red-headed assassin better, seeing sides of her that no one else did, which only made your feelings towards her grow.

After a few months, the two of you got send on a mission in Russia together. Everything went south quickly and the two of you ended up having to hide out in a small cabin in the middle of the forest, snowed in, with no way to get back to America. You spend most nights talking on a small brown leather sofa in front of the fireplace in the living room.

Natasha found a large bottle of vodka hidden away in the tiny corner cupboard in the kitchen, and one night when you both drank too much, one thing lead to another. When you woke up the next morning, Natasha still had her arms wrapped around your naked frame, and after that night the two of you officially started dating.

Now, 3 years later, you were hopelessly in love with her, which is why you were staring at the words on your wrist. You were still laying in bed, feeling Natasha’s hot breath on the back of your neck in a steady rhythm, indicating she was still asleep. All you could think about, was when it would end.

It could end any moment. Whenever she told you she loved you, you couldn’t help but feel your heart drop. Was this it? Was this the end? Is your time together up? All you could do was hope it wasn’t.

Because you were still deep in thought, you didn’t feel Natasha’s arms tightening around your waist, signifying that she was awake. You got snapped out of your thoughts when Nat quickly turned you around so that you were facing her now. You still weren’t used to how she looked in the morning. The messy red hair splayed around her face, her green eyes looking like they could stare into your soul.

She pressed her forehead against yours and pressed you closer towards her.

“Good morning baby, what has gotten you so deep in thought?”

“Good morning Nat. It’s nothing, don’t worry about it, I was just daydreaming a little bit.”

You respond before pecking her lips. Nat slowly slides her hand into your hair and pulls you closer again, giving you another small kiss.

You and Nat get brutally interrupted from your relaxed morning in bed when your phone starts to ring, displaying Steve’s contact information on the screen.

“Just leave it baby, it’s just Steve, he can wait. This is our only day off, and I just want to spend the day relaxing with you.”

Nat tells you while trying to distract you by kissing your neck. You let your phone go to voicemail, but within seconds Steve is calling you again.

You let out a deep sigh and roll out of Natasha’s embrace, sitting on the edge of your bed while answering the phone.

“Y/N. Where are you? I need you and Nat to come to the compound now. There is an emergency and I need the two of you for a mission. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t necessary. I’ll brief the two of you once you’re here.”

With that Steve hung up, leaving you slightly confused.

“What did he want? Please tell me he didn’t just ask if we could do a mission on our one free day.”

Natasha asked you while rolling her eyes. Slightly annoyed at Steve for ruining your day off.

“I’m sorry Nat, he said it was an emergency and that he would brief us on the mission once we arrive at the compound.”

Natasha sighed while getting out of bed. She knew that this was the life the two of you signed up for, but she was still annoyed that her day with you got ruined. At least you would still be able to spend it together, just not in the way she had planned originally.

After a quick fifteen-minute drive during which Natasha broke multiple speed limits, the two of you arrived at the compound and found Steve for the mission brief.

“Finally. I need the two of you to check on Wanda and Clint. They went to check out an abandoned Hydra base yesterday, but we lost all contact with them, and the last information they gave us was that the base wasn’t as abandoned as we thought, so I need the two of you to retrieve Wanda and Clint and if possible the information they were send to collect.”

You nodded, feeling slightly worried for your two friends and teammates, even though you knew they were perfectly capable of handling themselves.

“The quinjet is waiting for you on the roof, it’s ready to leave when you are.”

Natasha went over the details with Steve once again before she grabbed your hand and the two of you started to make your way to the roof. You knew she was worried about your friends as well, which is why you gave her hand a slight squeeze in an attempt to reassure them.

After a quick flight which seemed to take ages, you landed in the middle of the forest, 10 minutes away from the base so that no one saw the two of you arrive.

Natasha exited the jet first, walking in front of you, leading the way. Once you arrived at the base, it seemed abandoned at first, but with the information Steve gave you, it seemed very likely that there were still Hydra soldiers inside.

Natasha was the first one to find the entrance, and the two of you quickly made your way inside. After having walked around for half an hour, you still hadn’t encountered any Hydra agents and there was no sign of either Wanda or Clint, making you slightly nervous.

After having checked most doors and hallways, you suddenly heard noises coming from one of the rooms. Natasha and you sneaked up to the room, both getting ready to fight, until you clearly heard the voices from the room.

Natasha kicked the door open, catching an arrow right before it hit her in the face two seconds later.

“Is this the thanks we get for coming to save you? If so, I’m never doing it again.”

Natasha jokingly tells a shocked Clint and Wanda. You make your way inside as well, checking both of them for any injuries, and once you realise, they’re both fine, you all decide to get out of the building as soon as possible.

Everything went fine trying to get out of the building, it was almost too easy. You didn’t encounter anyone, and it looked like the base was actually abandoned, which was not the case according to Clint and Wanda.

The second you opened the door to get out of the building, you realised why. A small Hydra army was waiting for you, ready to attack. You all quickly ducked behind the trees, trying to get cover while taking on Hydra soldier after Hydra soldier.

You kept making more miles towards the jet, and at one point you actually thought you were going to make it. You could see Clint and Wanda take on about thirty soldiers, which was the only obstacle between them and the jet.

On your left, Natasha was fighting around 15 soldiers, just like you. You managed to take most of the soldiers down, however, when you quickly glanced at Natasha to see how she was getting on, you noticed one of the soldiers pulling a gun on her while she was fighting three others.

Without giving it a second thought, you launch yourself forward, pushing Natasha out of the way of the multiple bullets that got fired her way.

Natasha quickly takes care of the remaining Hydra agents, before looking your way. You can see the panic in her eyes before you feel the pain. Natasha comes running towards you at the same time your knees give out and you slump forwards, not being able to keep yourself upright any longer, and Natasha catcher you in her arms.

“Y/N! No! Why would you do that you idiot! Stay awake all right, we’re almost at the jet, you’re going to make it.”

You can feel Natasha picking you up, while the world around you is starting to blur and the things that stand out the most are Natasha’s red hair and green eyes, that are starting to tear up, only amplifying the colour.

You could feel your eyes starting to close, the blood loss becoming too much. You vaguely hear Nat shouting towards Clint and Wanda to get the jet ready so that she can try to save you.

“Y/N! Open your eyes baby. Please, open your eyes. Listen to my voice alright. You’re going to make it out. This is not the end. I’m getting you out of here. Just stay awake for me okay? Please baby, please. I need you to stay awake. Don’t leave me please.”

You wanted to respond to her, but you just couldn’t do it. You could hear a ringing in your ears, and you could faintly feel Natasha press her hands on the wounds in your abdomen trying to stop the bleeding.

The ringing in your ears got louder, and Natasha’s voice started to fade. You could feel yourself slipping away and the last thing you heard before everything turned black was Natasha’s voice, filled with fear.

“….. Please baby, please. Don’t leave me. I love you.”

[mel-the-fangirl]

Toss A Coin to Your Witcher

Henry Cavill x Reader

Words: 2,362

I am so so so nervous to post this because this is my first time writing a Henry fic and I know that the Henry Cavill fandom is such a tightknit family, I hope you guys have room for one more hopeless Henry stan. I know this isn’t even half as good as the other Henry fics out there but I had this idea stuck in my head for a very long time.

Please like and reblog or leave me some replies if I should do a second part! Thank you!

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The makeup brush swept precisely along your cheekbone, covering it in a subtle shimmer. Production staff milled around behind you, testing sound, testing lights. Being an actor, these things were nothing new. 

"Now remember, say it with me," 

"Don't say or do anything stupid." you recited with your long time agent and friend, Marge.

You thanked the makeup artist and made your way to the set. 

"When have I ever said or done anything stupid though?" you asked

Marge looked at you appraisingly before replying, 

"There's always a time for everything. Now go on." 

The vibe on set dialled to a hundred when you stepped on. It was really flattering how they cheered as you plonked your butt down on the wooden chair, a red tarp was set up behind you and the studio lights surrounded the area.

"Ready when you are Y/N!" the producer aka the ring leader of this whole operation flashed you a thumbs up

You nodded, feeling the nervousness bubble up your throat. 

Surprise, surprise. You still got nervous in front of the camera. It wasn't hard to handle though, you took a couple of deep breaths and you were good to go. 

"Hey guys, gals, and non-binary pals! I'm Y/N Y/L/N. I'm here with Buzzfeed and we're gonna be playing Twenty Questions." you winked at the camera with your arms wrapped around the little jar that had your questions in it

 "Let's get started, shall we?" 

Eager to begin, you stuck your hand into the jar without a second thought. 

"I freaking love Buzzfeed, really. Especially Tasty, I mean, I don't cook. But," you shrugged, wiggling your fingers, hearing the tiny bits of folded paper move around in the jar. "I love watching people cook. Then I love eating."

Scattered chuckles broke out through the crew. 

After a few minutes of rustling around, you figured you’d just come clean, "Okay. Small problem." 

You lifted your hand, the jar coming along with it. The pieces of folded paper crowding around your encased wrist as you waved your arm. 

Another round of shocked giggles started up as a couple of assistants rushed to you and tried to yank the jar off. 

"This is too good," the producer chortled, "Mind if we keep this in?"

"Fine by me!" you watched intently as Marge rolled up your sleeve so one assistant could pour oil all over it. Eagle eyed, she watched as a drop of oil landed on the bottom hem of your sweater.

"Great job, Y/N. This sweater was a gift from that designer you met last week, he said he made it just for you." she scolded, taking charge by grabbing the jar with two hands

"It was an accident, Marge. It's not like I planned on getting my hand stuck in a jar today!"

With a tug and a pop, your hand was free and slick with olive oil. Marge landed on her butt on the floor.

"Marge!" you howled with laughter, helping her up

She straightened her blouse, all business but her cheeks were stained red with embarrassment. 

"Can someone help Y/N wash the oil off her hands? Let's get this show on the road, people!" she barked marching orders at the staff, clapping her hands as she went. She wasn't in charge here but no one dared to question her. 

You chuckled, knowing that this was a cute little anecdote you’d be sharing with anyone who was willing to listen.

A few minutes later, you were back in your chair, having a laugh with everyone. The jar incident already stripped away the majority of your anxiety so you were ready to go.

"Okay! First question!" you squinted at the strip of paper, "What is the most expensive thing you’ve stolen from any set you’ve been on?" 

“Well!” you widened your eyes at the camera, “Bold of you all to assume that I’ve ever stolen anything!”

Marge scoffed rather audibly, making everyone raise their eyebrows at you.

“Okay, fine!” you held up your hand. The stunning ring you had on sparkled underneath the lights, nearly blinding anyone who looked.

“I did a period movie a while back and they had these drop dead gorgeous, and I mean gorgeous pieces of jewelry. I wore this piece,” you gazed down at the ring fondly, “for the whole of the film and I just pinched it after we wrapped, I couldn’t part with it, okay? I’m like a fricking magpie, I love shiny things.”

The crew burst into fits of laughter, making you laugh along with them.

“To clarify! This is the replica the props department had made, a very expensive replica. I can see you freaking out, Marge. And no, you don’t have to call the insurance company.”

You were a big hit, to say the least. You had them in stitches every time you opened your mouth but all good things had to come to an end, right?

It didn’t matter how carefully you dipped your hand into the question jar, this next one was going to make things very messy for you. 

"What do you like to do in your free time?" you read out loud, tapping a finger against your chin

"There hasn't been much free time lately,” you chuckled, “Let’s see… I play video games, yeah. I am so obsessed with the Witcher, it's borderline unhealthy. I’ve read all the books and played the games so many times." 

"What do you think of Henry Cavill as Geralt?" the producer asked you

Henry Cavill.

Just hearing that man's name was enough to make the blood rush to your cheeks. You brushed an imaginary hair out of your face. From behind the camera, Marge raised a knowing brow.

"Well," you cleared your throat and sat up straighter

"To be honest, at first I was really skeptical about his casting. I mean, he is way too good looking. Like way. Way. Too good looking. But…"

"But?"

Your mind drifted to the first time you saw a picture of Henry Cavill in full costume. The white hair, the golden cat eyes, the intense gaze and all that leather? It definitely made you feel… Certain things.

You cleared your throat, propping yourself on the table with your arms. To be honest, your head was still in a Henry Cavill haze so you had zero control of what came out of your mouth next.

"I'd definitely toss all my coins to that Witcher. Toss a few other things as well."

Everyone in the room ooh'ed and whistled, delighted by your saucy reply. The ruckus snapped you out of it and your hand immediately flew to your mouth.

“Please tell me I didn’t just say that out loud.”

“You did.” Marge mouthed at you, trying but failing to contain her laughter

"So you enjoyed his performance as Geralt?" the producer pressed on, hoping to get more audience-raking answers

How many times were you going to blush during this interview?

"Oh, well, about that, I haven't really gotten around to actually watching it.” you admitted sheepishly, “But I've seen photos and some clips. Very impressed by what I've seen so far."

"You will watch it though, right?" 

"Oh, absolutely. No way I’d miss out on that! Henry Cavill is an incredibly wonderful, talented actor. I think he’s also a fan of the franchise so I have no doubt that he played Geralt to perfection as with all his other roles." you nodded solemnly, putting a hand to your heart

Everyone in the room with you caught on that you were gushing over the actor, the sly looks they all exchanged with one another were a dead giveaway. Too bad you didn’t notice before you could try and play it cool.

“Alright! I think it’s time for the next question!” you declared, swiftly plucking another question out of the jar

By the time it was all over, you had convinced yourself that your little crush-related blunder wasn’t even a big deal, it would probably just be a little footnote in that video. No biggie.

But, Jesus Christ were you wrong.

The video took a couple of weeks to edit and in that time, you were busier than ever. A movie you had just done was getting a lot of attention, your performance in particular had critics singing your praises. At that point, you were definitely getting noticed a lot more when you stepped out for coffee.

So, the timing was just perfect.

The second the video went live, your phone was going off non stop. Twitter mentions, Instagram tags, and articles. A few notable entries being:

“WATCH: RISING STAR Y/N Y/L/N GUSHES ABOUT HENRY CAVILL IN CHARMING BUZZFEED VIDEO”

“@geraskier-rights: Y/N Y/L/N REALLY SAID SHE’D TOSS ALL HER COINS TO HENRY CAVILL’S GERALT AND WE ALL KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS”

“@geralt-of-vengerberg: Y/N The Fond™ is showing👀👀👀”

Marge sat on your sofa with your phone in hand, absolutely thrilled while reading tweets out loud. You scheduled a panic session with her over lunch once everything blew up.

“Oh my God.” you groaned, massaging your temples. “Marge, what do I do?”

“About what?” she didn’t even bother to look up at you

You plopped yourself down next to her, laying your head in her lap, “All that. It’s everywhere.”

“And? There’s nothing wrong with it, they all think you’re charming and funny. A true Relatable Queen.”

Was it your sanity slipping through your fingers? Or the overpowering embarrassment? You had no idea but whatever it was, it had you laughing until your stomach hurt.

Marge tugged at your hair, “Get it together, bitch. Jeez.”

“What are you so worried about anyway?” she asked, placing your phone on your stomach

You swiped through your emails absentmindedly, “I’m not worried about anything, it’s just that what if…”

You left the words hanging in the air, you might as well have been dangling from a cliff from how much colour drained from your face.

“What if what?” 

Marge shoveled some pasta into her mouth before noticing that you essentially turned into a statue right next to her.

“Y/N!” she shook your arm with a grip you were sure would leave some bruises. “What’s the matter?”

Wordlessly, you passed your phone to her, the comment from a certain verified account displayed prominently on Buzzfeed’s Instagram post of a little snippet from your video, the “I’d toss all my coins to that Witcher” part, naturally.

“@henrycavill: Dear Y/N, how many coins are we talking about here? Let’s talk about my reward.”

It was all Marge could do to not throw your phone across the room. Her eyes went wide, following your every move as you paced back and forth, a thumbnail in your mouth.

“That did not just happen, I did not just see that right now. I didn’t.” you babbled, your heart beating thunderously in your chest

There it went. Your very own ticking time bomb finally went off. Number of casualties? Just one. You.

“Okay. Just calm down, Y/N.” Marge caught you mid-pace, squeezing your arms

“Maybe it was a fan account. Tell me it was a fan account, Marge. Henry Cavill did not just hear me imply what I implied.” you grasped at her hand with your clammy one

“Well if he has a fan account that’s verified and has fourteen point five million followers?”

“Oh god.” you groaned, sinking to the floor and hugging your knees

“Oh, Christ.”

Marge hauled you to your feet and thrust your phone in your hand. She looked you hard in the eye, “Stop your whining and answer him. You’re Y/N fucking Y/L/N, one of the hottest people on the planet, start acting like it.”

You stared at her, eyes wide. Your chest rose and fell rapidly. Marge’s words started to make sense in your mind and adrenaline started surging through your veins. You nodded fervently, psyching yourself up.

“Fuck yeah.” you breathed, clicking ‘Reply’

“@yourinstagram: @henrycavill I know you take orens, crowns, and florens but maybe we should discuss further?”

Before you could even stop yourself (did you even want to?), your fingers already landed on the blue paper plane.

“I did it.” you exhaled, staring as the likes and overly enthusiastic replies started pouring in

“Fuck yeah, you did. Now, come on. Leave your phone. We’re getting drunk.”

More weeks passed and you actually ended up forgetting about that little reply you left Henry Cavill. You were busier than ever. Guestings, endorsement deals, and awards shows left and right. So, when you finally had a couple of days free, you decided you would set up camp on your sofa and finally watch Henry Cavill as Geralt of Rivia.

You even threw on your Superman pyjamas, “What the hell.” you shrugged

If you were going down this road, you might as well do it right. Maybe you would even watch the Man from U.N.C.L.E after or would it be Night Hunter? The decision would have to wait.

You watched, absolutely riveted as the White Wolf battled against the kikimora, his silver sword hacked at the creature with unmatched expertise. You were only a few minutes in but you already knew you’d be stuck on that sofa for hours.

When the kikimora had Geralt pinned underwater with his trusty sword just beyond arm’s reach, you found yourself on the edge of your seat, one of your cushions in a chokehold.

“Come on, come on, come on.” you muttered as Geralt reached for his sword

You wouldn’t find out if he got it or not. A knock on your door literally made you fall off the sofa.

“Fuck!” you exclaimed, your hip was already smarting from the impact

Whoever that asshole was, you swore you were going to give him a piece of your mind. You stomped to your front door just as that idiot started knocking again.

You huffed and threw the door open then your mind immediately went blank.

“I am so sorry. Are you alright? I think I heard you fall?”

Oh yeah. You were definitely falling.

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You can find the second part here!

[dat-town]

throw me to the wolves (and i’ll return leading the pack)

Characters: rebellion leader!Juyeon & thief!you

Genre: action, kind of enemies to lovers, historical (set in early 1900s like in Mr. Sunshine)

Warnings: some suggestive themes but nothing explicit, violence, minor character deaths

Summary: As the king’s thief, you had been assigned to get back the stolen map of the palace. It’s easy as pie but you would have never expected such consequences of your actions and you certainly did not expect Lee Juyeon in your life.

Words: 8.3k

Author’s note: title is a Seneca quote as far as I know (and I swear it will make sense), also the concept is very much inspired by TBZ’s Road to Kingdom Reveal and Danger stages.

Lee Juyeon might not have been of royal blood but he had definitely been born to rule. 

The first time you met him, he pressed the blade of a knife against your neck, pinning you to a dirty wall in the outskirts of Hanseong.

"Not the nicest way to say hi to a lady," you remarked casually as if neither the closeness of his firm, strong body nor the sharp object grazing your skin didn't affect you.  He was a lot stronger than you, you knew that, it would have been useless to go against him with brute force, so you had to be smart about it.

"You are very far from a lady," he sneered at you, dark messy hair falling into his fierce eyes.

Meeting his gaze, your heartbeat stopped for a moment in fear before blood rushing to your face tinted your pale cheeks in the colours of rosy sunrises. His eyes were murderous and he held his weapon steadily, so you were sure he wouldn't have hesitated to slice your throat if things didn't go his way. He was a dangerous man, you knew that already. With a reputation like his, you expected nothing less.

Although he might have had the reflexes and the wits, he might have been able to find you but you weren't going to just let him win so easily.

"Oh, am I?" you tilted your head nonchalantly yet careful not to hurt yourself because of your own hastiness. Then you elegantly lifted your right leg to link it behind his thigh almost as if you wanted to pull him closer. As expected, he faltered momentarily, blinking surprised at your bold and suggestive move, but that was all you needed to pull out your own dagger from its case on your leg and point it at his abdomen with a triumphant smile playing on your carmine lips. Oh men and their confidence, they always overlooked the skills of women.

Juyeon gritted his teeth, pressing his lips together firmly and as he was looking at you through narrowed eyes and you swore you could almost see the cogs in his head turning. 

"Not that I don't enjoy this but what about we continue this discussion in a more civilized manner?" you croaked a brow at him challengingly to which the guy just let out a ridiculing snort. 

"Well, you could have thought of that when you robbed me," he remarked almost as if he was waiting for you to deny it. But you just shrugged, unbothered. 

"Stealing from a thief can hardly count as a theft."

"But it doesn't change the fact that I want my possession back," the young man retorted and you cracked a smile at that. That wasn't unexpected, of course, he wanted it. A lot of people desired the same thing in those chaotic times.

"Well, I don't have it with me but if you are willing to pay me more than my current client I might consider giving it back. I won't risk my life for nothing. Not even for that handsome face of yours," you teased pressing his buttons on purpose, testing him but the guy let out another snort, this time with a roll of his eyes. He clearly didn't appreciate you joking around but you were dead serious about your offer. In this kind of business you were dealing in, betraying a client had a high price.

"What about you giving it back nicely and I will forget about this little incident?" he offered you a chance to come clean and there was a dangerous edge in his voice, a 'because if you don't...' kind of threat. Oh, so he was the revengeful kind. It didn't really surprise you but he also wasn't the first man promising to ruin your life. But also because of that, his words could not scare you.

"What about I start screaming and men will come and save me from a pervert who pushed me against the wall?" you asked and from the flinch of his mouth you knew you had won this time. Because Hanseong might not have been the most righteous place of all, men still liked to play the hero if a pretty girl called for help. Juyeon must have known this as well, so his silence made you smile. "What about we play by my rules? Be at the Eastern altar of the Buddhist temple by the time the bell rings last at midnight and we might make a deal if you bring enough cash."

“Aren't you afraid that I will just take it?” he pondered the thought but he should have known better.

“Aren't you arrogant to think I would let you have it so easily? So what will it be? Should I scream?” you provoked him on purpose and did not like his smirk one bit. But at least he pulled away, lowering his knife, slipping it back to its place while his gaze wandered down to your rolled up skirt and the dagger you held in your hand.

“There are better ways to make you scream,” he said hoarsely and you couldn't decide whether it was supposed to be a threat or he was just being cocky. But before you could have questioned his motives, he swiftly climbed over a wall, disappearing into the shadows. 

Lee Juyeon was fuming. He hated to lose and for some reason, meeting you felt like a slap. He didn't like that you had something over him, something that he really needed, so he had no choice but to cooperate, something he really hated to do with people he didn't trust and he certainly loathed your fleeting loyalty. Your kind, who didn't believe in anything, always chose the side which seemed more favourable, was the worst in his eyes because you two might have been criminals just the same but at least he did it all for a reason, a greater cause. 

"Did you get it back?" Changmin greeted him excitedly as soon as he stepped into their hideout but Juyeon didn't spare him a glance, he went straight to their safe.

"She didn't have it with her," he murmured grumpily and mindlessly but the other boy was quick to catch on that tiny detail.

"Wait... she? It was a girl that almost broke Chanhee's nose?" he gasped to which the guy he just mentioned threatened to throw the closest object at him which happened to be a stolen jewellery box.

"Thank you for the reminder," he spoke up ironically sweetly.

Juyeon just shot them a disapproving look.

"Yes, it was a very annoying girl," he said, blood still boiling because of the fact that this unknown girl managed to break into their hideout and steal the map of the palace. They worked too hard to get it just to get it taken away by a pitiful thief.

"We will get it back, don't worry, but we can't make it too easy for her because then she might get greedy. Get some of the boys. We are going to pray tonight," Juyeon said as he fixed his sword on his side. 

Changmin and Chanhee exchanged a knowing look but neither of them objected. They knew better because if Juyeon was good at something other than having a tongue as sharp as his blade, that was planning. He just didn't like when things got out of hand.

The temple was eerily quiet moments before midnight. When the bell of curfew woke up all the birds that flew away, Juyeon stepped out of the darkness as well, making his way slowly towards the altar but just as he stepped inside the temple, a familiar voice echoed all around.

“Aren’t you curious why I chose this place?” came the rhetorical question from somewhere in the shadows. “Because the acoustic is so perfect that every little step can be heard clearly. So you better leave your boys out and come in alone.”

Juyeon gritted his teeth and signalled to the others to wait outside. He hated that he was outsmarted by you. Not because you were a girl, he prided himself in the fact that he didn't care about that. He didn't like anyone crossing his plans and you were doing that as if you had the time of your life waltzing through his chess board.

He took careful, calculated steps inside the temple. He halted for a moment when he saw you sitting cross legged in front of a golden statue of a deity. He himself had never been religious, no god had given him a reason to believe, so he believed in what he could see and experience: himself and his group.

"Let's cut to the chase. I brought the money," he said, throwing the bag of coins between the two of you.

You hummed, acknowledging the heavy weight of the bag. But if you wanted to be honest, you didn't really care about money. Sure, it was a good safety net in case your previous clients turned against you but money couldn't save your life, you could have done nothing with it dead.

"Why do you need the map of the Palace?" you roll the sheet of paper in front of you, so both of you would see it: the pretty architectural plan of the most important building complex of the empire.

"Isn't it obvious?" Juyeon croaks a brow at that, glancing down on the paper and the candles nearby, wondering whether you would threaten him to set it ablaze if he wasn't cooperative. If you were arrogant enough to think you could be faster than him.

"Hm, no. I can think of multiple purposes," you told him lulling the options in your head. “But you don't have a good thief. If you had instead of trying to negotiate with me they would steal it back, so I guess you don't wish to rob the treasury. Then again you would have much easier ways to get inside if you would like to free a prisoner, so that leaves me with one option: you want to kill the king. Or someone as important as him."

Him, that puppet king so hungry for power that he didn’t even notice how his advisers controlled him.

The corner of Juyeon's mouth twitches. No matter how much he tried to act nonchalant he was annoyed how well you figured him out. His silence was enough of an answer for you nevertheless. So with a content smile on your carmine lips, you tilted your head in interest, gaze fixed on his sharp lines even in the dim lit temple.

"You know, rumours say that you are the bastard son of the late king," you told him paying close attention to his reactions but Juyeon stayed unfazed.

"And you think I will tell you if it's right or not?" he let out a mocking laughter but you weren't one to take it to heart.

"It was worth a shot." you just shrugged, then looked down on the map he so desperately wanted. "I will let you have it for free. On one condition."

"Then it's not free," he corrected you but the way his mouth tilted with annoyance but eyebrows raised in curiosity, he couldn't have been that bothered.

"I want in," you told him, clear and honest, confident. "If you really want to kill the king, I want to join."

For the first time that night the guy seemed really surprised and he didn't hide it. He looked at you as if you thought killing was a children's game.

"That's rebellion, you know, right?"

"We're both criminals, you know, right?" you retorted and he stared into your eyes, cold fire burning in his dark orbs. Moments passed like this, in grave silence and then...

"Accept her freaking condition. We do need a good thief," someone yelled from outside and you let out a chuckle. At least someone was smart on that team, you liked him already. Unlike the infamous Lee Juyeon.

"If you ever just think about betraying us, I'll kill you myself," he gritted his teeth but you merely smiled at him. You had no plans on betraying them as long as they got rid of the puppet king. And your unpaid debt.

"Understood," you stood up, pushing the map to his chest and grinned at him. "Instead of sulking, introduce me to your boys."

The notorious group was unlike any other than you had met before. They seemed more like friends and family than allies from the way they acted around each other. Of course, you weren't taken to the headquarters right away. You were taken to some inn where a guy named Changmin who seemed the most open to your arrival checked whether the map was real. They also stood guard one by one during the night as if you wanted to kill them. Gosh, it was four against one and Mr. Almighty thought girls weren't a match for him.

You immediately hit it off with Changmin over the fact that you had punched someone called Chanhee in the face while stealing the asset from them the last time. Sangyeon was kind but careful from the beginning. But Sunwoo and Juyeon seemed more wary of you but after you gave the last chicken wing of yours to the younger, he softened, so only their leader was hard to crack. You didn't exactly blame him, he just tried to keep the others safe even if he did it in an annoying way.

"Let's get one thing right: I don't trust you. Your kind, only working for money as if that was your god, not believing in something, that's the worst," he told you one evening, right before you were about to meet the entire team.

"I don't have the luxury to believe in anything else than myself. Never had," you looked him straight in the eyes, no tremble in your voice and then, for the first time since you knew him, Juyeon's eyes had a kind of understanding in them as if he knew what you were talking about.

The next day you were heading towards a temporary base and while the guys warned you about possible checks and guards on the road, neither of you expected any connotation. You travelled on horse backs with a farm-wagon like some nomads trying not to draw attention but each of you were known and wanted criminals, so it was almost inevitable to get on someone's bad side.

"Where exactly are we going?" you complained when you noticed that you took a turn that led backwards from where you departed.

"To the base, like we said, we just don't want unwelcomed guests there," Juyeon gritted his teeth, tilting his head towards the mountains. You didn't see anything special in them but he must have been aware of how ambushes around there worked because it didn't take long for the men to show their faces… or well, their intent. The first arrow pierced into the ground only a few steps away from Sunwoo's horse's feet, scaring the animals and alarming all of you. You looked around, drawing your daggers from your belt but you didn't see anyone in particular. The attack must have come from the mountains, from behind the rocks and the first one was soon followed by another again and again arrows raining down on you like a summer downpour.

"Into the woods! Right now!" Juyeon yelled and everybody followed his order without questions asked, leading the horses among the trees, into hiding. You tried to keep up and follow the guys but it seemed like you had lost their sight while watching behind your back too, checking on the approaching attackers. Eventually you decided to let your horse go, far into the woods, away from the danger on its own as you tried to hide from the men. You were like a shadow thief after all, you were good at disappearing into thin air but not if you had an animal three-four times your size with you. You hid behind a rock covered in green leaves, wondering whether you should have climbed the bamboo trees instead when you heard the steps nearing. You suck in your breath, holding it in to not make any noise while mentally cursing Lee Juyeon and his gang for setting you up. The king must have offered a nice sum of money for proving you unfaithful. Why else would they have left you behind?

Just as you thought you were by yourself, a hand clamped over your mouth, pulling your body close to his.

"Keep quiet and follow me," Juyeon, that impossible guy, muttered before slowly taking his hands off you and yanking you towards the growing bushes in the middle of the bamboo forest. There, between two ordinary looking branches he crouched down and climbed into some kind of hole that was unnoticeable from afar. You followed him, knees and hands dirty by the time you got to some kind of cave where you could stand up finally and you blinked, trying to adjust to the dark.

"Welcome to the base," you heard Changmin's cheerful voice and he lit a lamp, filling the cave with light where everybody was safe and sound. Seeing that and how Sangyeon was in the middle of treating an arrow scratch on Sunwoo's arm, you let out the breath you had been holding this whole time. Back there, you really thought for a moment that they betrayed you already and while lack of trust saved you quite a few times, this time you weren't proud of doubting them already.  Not that they had any sentimental reason to get you to safety, they needed you for their mission, only that, you knew that and refused to believe otherwise.

However, the confession that fell from your lips that evening while passing the pot of jjigae around was more out of a sense of fairness than guilt.

"You told me you hate the kind that works only for the money, right?" you met Juyeon's sharp, dark, ever so telling eyes by the campfire, keeping your voice low enough, so only the two of you would hear it.

"I don't really have much choice. I work for the king to pay off my family's debt. It's this or prison and if I can make some side money like that, why not?" you shrugged, not looking at him. You weren't curious about his reaction or opinion, you told yourself. You didn't tell him to pity you.

A few long moments of silence passed while you pretended to cool the food down while stirring until Juyeon spoke up.

"Then why are you betraying him?"

"Isn't it obvious? A debt to the king has no limit, I would have to work for him until the day I die, he would never be satisfied with less. I want my freedom back," you told him, honestly, which was received only by a hum but you were glad that he didn't drag the topic out, he didn't ask about the reason behind the debt.

After that day, you were more involved in the planning phrase of the upcoming missions and eventually you met the whole team. You went out to steal this and that with Chanhee, playfully commenting on how pretty his nose was and grew totally fond of Haknyeon who made the best noodle soup you ever ate. The more missions you had been a part of, the more time you spent with them and away from the castle, the less chance you had to go back and beg for mercy if things went wrong. That was your original plan: give it a chance and retreat if it didn't work out but you had to realise that these people didn't have A and B plans, this was their one and only fight and they believed in it. It made you want it to succeed even more.

"We don't do this to rule," Changmin told you one day, after practicing sword fighting. "Nobody here, not even Juyeon desires the throne. We do this for the oppressed people, for those who suffer the most under this unfair regime."

It sounded too noble to be real but you believed him. Even more so when you heard that their takeover plan considered the loss of people and that they wished to get over with it with the least victims possible. That was why they needed the plan too: to know the best path to the throne room and the king's and his advisers' rooms without getting in the way of many guards. You also needed to know where and when the soldiers did their regular checks in the palace, so your plan's next phase was to observe the place. Chanhee has some connections and you could have your hideout in a courtesan house close to the royal quarters.

"Change," Juyeon said as he put a pile of pastel green dress in front of you. You looked down with clear disgust on your face before looking back up at a disgust.

"Are you for real?"

"You can't walk into a courtesan house dressed like that. You are a girl," Juyeon's voice was authoritative and a bit tense, you scoffed.

"Wow, now you're saying that," you rolled your eyes at him, still grimacing even when you were told that it was expensive to get said dress. In the end, you had to admit, it was the plan possible way to get in, so you picked the clothes up with a sigh and walked into a further alcove to get changed before your departure. It had been a long time since you wore skirts, those weren't too practical for climbing or fighting, so you preferred pants and anything that made it easy to move quickly and comfortably. So it felt strange to wear something like this again, not to mention it was probably silk based on how soft it was against your skin and you probably had never worn something as expensive as that. You ever let your hair down from the usual ponytail that made sure it didn't get in the way, so you looked every bit of a decent lady when you stepped out.

"Wow," Youngjae gave voice to his awe the moment he saw you and Sunwoo had to nudge him in the side to close his mouth.

The boys were either shy about it or similarly amazed, only Juyeon didn't really react. He barely glanced your way before telling everyone to hurry up. You rolled your eyes at his obvious behaviour and stuck to Changmin’s side on the way to the courtesan house. It would have been too conspicuous if everybody went together, so you formed smaller groups.

The plan was to get everyone to the new base before midnight and observe the palace for the next few days in turns. To make it even more believable, in public you had to act as if you were one of the girls working in the courtesan house, that made it less suspicious for the guys to visit you either and you didn’t care about your reputation much anyways. Not that a lot knew you, the faceless shadow thief, anyways. During the next days you gathered enough information to know when it would have been the best to attack but there must have been a whistleblower around because soldiers raided the courtesan house one of the evenings.

“They closed off every exit and entrance, we cannot get out without being caught,” Sangyeon said while Hyungseo looked out the window, confirming that there were soldiers outside as well.

“Chanhee says they are checking every room where there’s no business going on,” Changmin closed the door behind him. You were on the top floor, so you had advantage in time while the soldiers were busy checking beneath.

“Business?” Youngjae furrowed his brows, confused and got a smack in the head from Sunwoo.

“You know,” he emphasized making hand gestures that almost made you laugh despite the tense situation.

“Then hide and let’s make it look like there’s something here they don’t have the right to see,” you said pulling the fancy hairpin out, letting your locks fall onto your shoulders as you threw your red robe onto the ground, leaving a bit of a mess.

“Oh my gosh,” Youngjae shrieked, scandalized and turned his back on you, deciding to hide inside the closet followed by Sunwoo while others moved behind the curtains.

“Come on, I can’t put on a show alone. That would be even more suspicious than having a tea party here,” you complained, heartbeat drumming in your ears as you heard the approaching steps echo from the stairs outside. You climbed on top of the bed that faced the door and raised a brow at the two guys staring at you as if they didn’t believe you were alright with what you had just proposed.

“Showtime, boss,” Hyunjae decided and literally dragged Juyeon’s jacket off him before drawing his sword out, he stood behind the door in case the soldiers would have come inside anyways. That left only the team’s leader, the guy who had once said you weren’t much of a lady, in front of you, looking like he had some internal conflict.

Ridiculous. It was just a fake act, even if he was terrible at pretending, he could have made an effort. You weren’t a bad face to look at, so he really could have at least not suffered so visibly about having to get close with you. Maybe you just imagined him cursing under his breath, maybe he really was that frustrated but at least you didn’t have to force him to get on the damn bed and unbutton his shirt a bit himself. Great.

“Could you not act as if it physically hurt you to touch m–” you muttered under your breath, annoyed but Juyeon cut you off with a simple movement. He climbed over you, hovering over your body and slid a hand onto your neck, angling your head just right for a kiss that never came. Your lips parted in surprise but his only grazed against it slightly, your breaths mingling in the air while his piercing gaze shot right through you. It felt burning, the way he looked at you with those feline eyes from so close. You could practically feel the heat of his body, his skin scorching against yours – or was it you? – and your heart picked up its speed once again. The wait was nerve-wracking because you felt the tension stiffen in the air while you listened to the thuds of doors opening and closing, soldiers shouting.

When the door your room opened, revealing three men in black behind it, you pretended to be shocked and automatically reached to rearrange your clothes while Juyeon turned his head lazily towards the intruders.

“Who are you to disturb me? Did I not pay enough?” he yelled at the soldiers who exchanged knowing looks, but after looking around for suspicious signs, they indeed retreated.

You let out a breath when the door finally closed again and tried and failed not to roll your eyes at how fast Juyeon pulled away. Hyungseo cleared his throat and said something about seeing the two of you slightly undressed in a bed scarring him for life and one by one all the guys came out of their hiding place, only making comments about the recent events behind your backs.

After the visit of the soldiers, the tense atmosphere slowly dissolves into something like anticipation and determination to get done with their plan as soon as possible. You already had a good idea about the daily routine within the palace but with how frequently they changed their guards it would have been almost impossible to get through them without drawing too much attention and that was the least you wanted. If the royal guards knew about your arrival, you would have been too outnumbered to actually do anything, much less to get to the king himself. But you had a good card in your favour.

"So I will be taking the map back?"

"Right. If we have at least a bit of luck, the king and his men only know that you came to get that. Let's say you had trouble getting your hands on it..." Sangyeon explained which made you scoff out loud. You didn't mean to look down on them but it was ridiculously easy to get the map. Sure they had stood guard and they kept it locked away but a group of about ten guys was nothing you who had been robbing much more secured places than their bases. The most difficult part was to actually find them, after that it was like a children's play. So it somewhat hurt your pride and reputation as a thief to admit you had to waste days until you got it.

"Sure, we can say that I tried to seduce your boss to get the map here," you shrugged and glanced at said guy and knew that despite your nonchalant behaviour your words provoked him based on the way he clenched his jaw. "That would explain even if one of the guards recognized me. Though I don't see much of a chance for that. Although this much time would have been enough for you to get what you wanted from it, so the king will be displeased."

"Will you meet him in person?" Haknyeon asked since that was crucial information regarding your plan. If you were about to meet the king, then they must be there, too. But no, you only met the king once and the memory sent shivers down your spine. You were dragged in front of him, clothed rugged, dirt and bruises all over you as two guards held you. You weren't proud of how you had been crying but that day, you were sure you were about to die. As a daughter of servants in the royal palace, you had no way of providing a better life for yourself. You weren't only a subject to the king but his slave. When you were born that way, there was no chance of getting out. Born as a girl you couldn't become a guard, a soldier or a scholar. It was a time when the higher you could go was becoming a concubine but you had no intention of lying under the king or a prince.  You would have chosen death over that.

But no, the king must have wanted something since he didn't kill you with your parents when he learned about their betrayal, about how they sold information about him to his brother. No, he took your life and made sure to form you to his will, to make the perfect little thief and spy for him in exchange for letting you live. But he was naive to think that you would be loyal to the murdered of your parents. Because he might not have been the one to draw the sword but he was the one who gave the orders, him and not his stupid advisers who made your country rot and the people suffer.

"Probably not. He usually gives me orders through his right hand man," you said, knowing too well that said man had his temperament to match the king's. They would beat you just enough, so you could steal more for them. Maybe break only your left hand to cause enough pain but not turning you incapable for them. You were an asset, nothing more and you hated it.

"What will happen to you because of your latency?" came the next question and gulping down your own fears, you waved it off, forcing a confident expression onto your face.

"Don't worry about me and break into the king's quarters like you should," you told them, clear as the sky was on summer afternoons you had liked as a child.

The truth was, everybody knew what happened to those who displeased the king. It wouldn't matter that you bring back the desired map. If you were late, it was the same as not going along with the order.

"You should have someone to be there with you," Juyeon spoke up for the first time for a while, his gaze fixated on the map without a fail and it made the corners of your mouth twitch. It almost sounded like he cared.

"Are you worried about me, Lee Juyeon?" you raised a brow at him, cunningly like a tease but when he looked up and your eyes met, the words froze onto the tip of your tongue. There was something sad in his eyes, something you had failed to notice before. As if he understood you more than you would have thought.

"Of course, we are all worried about you!" Changmin said vehemently and you tore your gaze away from the raven haired boy to turn to him with a grateful smile.

"Then, focus on not getting yourself killed first. I can take care of myself," you claimed and kept acting like it through the meeting, deciding on the upcoming Lotus festival celebration's night for the attack. There might have been more guards around then but with more guests in the palace, it would have been easier to blend in. No to mention that the king being drunk could probably help too.

It was a good plan, one you believed in. One that could finally bring you peace and freedom. You didn't want to delude yourself too early, so you tried not to think too much about it. If the mission wasn't successful you would have been killed for sure since what you were about to do was treason and no traitor could live in Hanseong.

It was a two way street then: freedom or death. Free from the king's chains either way. Yet, the night before the Lotus festival, you found it hard to sleep. You were fidgety, even snapped at Changmin when he tried to make a joke about you finally looking like yourself in your regular clothes instead of the courtesan one. You apologized and he understood, everybody was tense after all but it showed differently. Juyeon for example was even more closed off and quieter than usual. You didn't expect to run into him at night, though.

It was eerily quiet in the corridors and you just wanted to get some fresh air, outside of the suffocating atmosphere of your room. Meeting him by the gate, however, wasn't the plan.

"Are you ditching us?" he asked in a hoarse voice, back leaning against the brick wall as soon as you passed by him like wind. His voice was more passive and sad than angry and you remembered how he warned, threatened you to kill you if you decided to betray their trust. Sure, you could have ratted them out, saving yourself but did he really trust you so little?

"I don't know. Should I?" you retorted just for the sake of it because it was ridiculous: his suspicion of you even after all this time. But he didn't answer, so you rolled your eyes. "I just needed some air. Just like you, I assume."

Juyeon seemed to complement over your reply but he must have deemed it good enough because he turned his deadly gaze away. You didn't intend to have a heart-to-heart talk with him but since you might die tomorrow, it was your last chance to ask questions like:

"You already know my reason for treason but what's yours? And don't give me some crap like for a better and fair future," you turned to him but you were careful enough to look around before talking about something like that in public.

However, Juyeon either wanted to avoid answering or simply didn't like the place as he bob his head towards the courtesan house and as his sign, you went back inside, finding solace in your empty room. It had been a long while since you had been alone with him and you remembered what happened here the last time when you were this close… even closer. Now you both sat on the ground, backs to the wall, no touching, no smart retorts, no audience.

"Have you heard the story of the Crown Prince?" Juyeon spoke up but his question made you furrow your brows.

"About Prince Hyunjoon? What story?" you wondered out loud as confused as you were. Prince Hyunjoon had been sent to study in a prestigious academy as it had been advised to the king but it was probably not for his own good, there were rumours going around that he had sent the boy away because he feared he would try to take his throne from him. He had grown to be paranoid.

"No, not him. The first born prince," Juyeon corrected you and that made sense, you couldn’t recall anything else that was interesting regarding the next ruler of the country. You believed that after his father’s death, even if he was inexperienced, he could make a better king. He was said to be kindhearted after all.

"Ah, the prince who died almost 20 years ago?"

Your question had been left hanging for a few long moments and you even turned to face Juyeon, wondering whether he heard up but what he said next made your eyes grow comically wide.

"He didn't die,” he claimed so sure of himself that it left no doubts even though it was already crazy. “But he has always been unworthy of the title of the crown prince."

"What do you mean? And how do you know?" you sprouted questions because in that moment you could do only that, even forgetting how it came up in the first place. 

"You see, the crown prince was indeed the son of the queen but just as the king wasn't faithful, she wasn't either. She had her child out of wedlock but raised him as if he was the kind of royal the king desired,” the boy continued quietly, looking down at his hands, playing with a ring on his pinkie finger. “The king figured out and he was furious. He got the queen killed but the boy was rescued by rebels. He was only six at the time but from one day to another, his father who had never been a kind man became his biggest enemy, so he had  grown up seeking revenge.”

You had listened to this story, his story, you were sure, and you couldn’t have been more shocked. You knew that the king was an awfully temperamental man but killing his own wife and a child? And these days he got drunk and had multiple women in his quarters? It made you sick.

“That’s my reason for treason,” Juyeon added slowly, quietly, almost gentle and for the first time you wanted to tell him something reassuring, something so unlike you but it wasn’t your place to pat him on the back and tell him everything would be alright.

“I… I never knew. I have grown up in the palace but I have only heard that the first prince had died and his death broke the queen’s heart, too,” you whispered, suddenly feeling naive but who would have thought?

“Not many people know. He hid it well,” the boy gritted his teeth, then exhaled a few shaky breaths. “But Hyunjoon knows and he’s on our side. He will make a good king.”

You hummed along, agreeing, hoping for better days and that you could live long enough to enjoy those.

"Look, I know you hate me..." you started off, not trying to come off as someone close to him just because he told you this but then, he unexpectedly cut you off. His confident voice caught you off guard so much that it had your eyes widen in surprise.

"I don't," he said and you might have only imagined it but he sounded a bit nervous. He probably wasn’t used to talking about his feelings, even if it was hate. Now, that made two of you. "I did hate you but... I hate everything that I associate with the king and you... I have seen the bag of gold coins paid for killing my mother and me."

Ah. So that was why he hated ‘your kind’ so much. The kind that took dirty money and accomplished any task thrown in their way, even murdering an innocent child. It made sense, the murderous look in his eye, the disgust he had written all over the place whenever he looked at you. He probably associated you with those who had taken his mother away from him.

“I’m just a thief. I never killed anyone, even though some I encountered would have deserved it,” you told him. You didn’t owe him an explanation or anything for that matter but still, you wanted him to hear that from you because you knew how your reputation made you sound.

"I know," Juyeon stated, oddly calm and you were dumbfounded to notice the subtle smile in the corner of his mouth before he turned his head to look at you. Dark orbs finding yours, stirring something inside you. "Your aim is too shitty for you to be a killer."

"Yah!" you gasped, pseudo-offended but then laughed it off and for the first time in a long while, for a moment you felt light and at ease. Who knew Juyeon could make you feel that way too and not just boil your blood in an annoying way.

Looking back, you should have known better. You should have seen that something was off. But your mission was planned so well that you believed the smooth execution was thanks to all those long days who had put into it and all those months and years of preparation that Juyeon and his team had behind their backs in order to even dare such a thing.

Getting into the palace during the Lotus Festival was easy. A lot of people came and went during the parade and the palace was buzzing with life. The king looked like he was having fun as well, maybe a bit too much with how often his glass was refilled with rice wine but his recklessness was only working into your favour. By the time the celebrations became dull enough for the ruler to leave, you left your signal in the throne room, wishing for counsel. It was always like this but you never met the king during these times, you didn’t even mind it. Still, waiting in the half-lit room was quite nerve-wracking while you prayed for the others to be able to make their way to the king’s chambers without any hitch. You knelt before the empty throne, head onto the ground, waiting like a good, loyal subject and you suppressed the shudder running through you when you heard approaching, arrogant steps.

“You’re late,” a voice said and you still kept your head down. But you were ready to draw your dagger any needed moment.

“My deepest apology, Your Majesty. I tried to be as quick as possible,” you mumbled out an excuse knowing well that until the right hand let you know that he wasn’t the king, you had to act as if he was.

“Then you were too slow,” the man grabbed you by the chin, forcing you to look at him and with widened eyes, you saw those ruthless ones that had been haunting your dreams since your parents’ death. There was the king in front of you.

But… the whole team had clearly seen him go to his chambers! Then… who was that? Who played that role in the trap? How far would they have gone? What was waiting for the others on their way to the king’s main bedroom? You had to warn them somehow!

"You really thought you could double-cross me? You thought I wouldn't know that you betray me?" the king clicked his tongue, earning your attention again, injecting fear into your veins. You wanted to turn your head, to pull away, to yell at Changmin to go and let the others know but before you could have done any of that, the king pushed you onto the ground.

"Ah, looking for your friend?" he asked mockingly and with a flick of his wristy he called for his guards, the men who carried the luml body of a familiar face.

"No! Changmin!" you shrieked in panic. He was supposed to keep an eye on you, not getting caught. Now, that it wasn't just you in immediate danger, worries took over your chest almost suffocating you.

"Although I should be grateful since you brought my long lost son back home, so I could finish the job my men couldn't," the king tilted his head as if he was pondering over the thought. Your fingers curled up in a fist, glaring at the man with hatred. He played with all of you like a cat played with mice before eating. He enjoyed your suffering and the mind games he played but you weren't keen on being one of his pawns. Not anymore.

Juyeon was ready to kill the king, even if he had to die and in a way you both just wanted revenge and freedom. You had never been a killer but you were ready to die trying in order to end the rule of a tyrant and to save the guys who had become your comrades and friends over the past few days, weeks and anyone who had the same destiny as you. Nobody deserved to have their life hung by a thread of an ultimate made by one side.

So you decided to make a risky move, a reckless one as you reached for the dagger in your belt, throwing it at the smug man the next time he turned towards you. It was a hasty movement, surprising enough for the guards to rush to the king's side but Juyeon was right: your aim was shitty.

Instead of his chest, the dagger barely grazed the king's upper arm and fell onto the ground with a pathetic thud. The man just laughed as if it was funny and picked up your weapon, turning it against you. You gulped as you backed up until the wall. You heard Changmin yelling at you to run while trying to free himself from the guards but you couldn't move, you just stood there, frozen, and watched as the man lifted his hand to strike down at you with the blade. You flinched when he moved, closing your eyes like a coward and only opened them when you felt the man get wobbly in front of you, falling onto his knees from the dagger getting him from behind. Blood spilled from his mouth as his body shook before giving up the fight and you let out a relieved sigh. Such an unceremonious, simple way for a king to die but he didn't deserve more.

"Are you okay?" Juyeon asked, voice honeyed with care and even his dark eyes softened as he stepped closer to check on you, looking for bruises. The same eyes you noticed behind the king when he approached and you had to try your best not to show surprise and relief.

"Yeah. You got here just in time. How did you know?" you gaped at the guy and the others who fought off the guards in the meantime. If the king's bedroom was a trap, how did they get out?

"That man didn't have a limp. I realized he had been a fake one to begin with," he said simply as if it was natural but you had no idea the king had a limp up until now. You still tended to forget he had lived in the palace, close to the king in his childhood and now you tried to imagine him on a throne. It was easier than ever with you being in the throne room with a dead king but Juyeon had never had the ambitions to govern.

"Well, next time you could be faster," you teased, trying to lighten up the atmosphere and luckily, the team's leader didn't seem to mind. His smug smile was back and you would have rolled your eyes if he hadn't just saved your life.

"Will there be a next time? When you're being cornered by a man?" he raised an eyebrow challengingly, a little suggestively but instead of hitting him on the chest, you raised your chin and played the same game:

"Who knows? I keep getting into these situations since I got to know you," you tsked and there was no lie in there. Juyeon smiled at you, sincerely, his eyes holding a secret only the two of you knew but he was practically pushed aside when Changmin came to make sure you weren't hurt, mumbling something stupid about it being his fault.

Juyeon looked around, proud to see his men fight for the same cause and their efforts paying off. When it was finally time for you to leave and start a new chapter in your life, you looked back on the empty throne and the bloody crown on the floor.

“We don’t need a king sitting high on his throne, it’s the time of dogs and wolves,” Juyeon muttered and outside, the Lotus Festival continued as if nothing happened. Smiling, you joined the celebrations.

So this is what it tasted like: freedom.

[chilling-seavey]

Seasons Change (d.s.) - Cover Me Up

A/N Before I actually start writing this new story, I decided to write this blurb as a sort of pre-prologue. The events in this blurb do directly affect the events in the full story but you do not need to read this in order to read the main fic. Also, please follow the link in bio to add yourself to the taglist for this universe if you wish (unless you selected ‘tag for everything’!)

Summary: Daniel doesn’t want to leave his wife’s bedside. Not when she needs him most. 

Warnings: This blurb deals with terminal illnesses, death of loved ones, grief etc. 

Title inspired by Cover Me Up by Morgan Wallen

November 15, 2019

The house was quiet. It was usual now to find the silence that rested over the floorboards somewhat peaceful in the air of the small rural town. It was peaceful but it carried the weight of a thousand tonnes over the beams of the roof and the joists of the walls. In a sense, the peaceful quiet was almost suffocating.

With a six-year-old boy, an aspiring hockey player with rambunctious little personality in his small body, it was hard to find moments of quiet. But it felt like over previous month and a half, quiet was the only option. Even the little boy knew this well.

He would come home from school on the bright yellow school bus and run down the long dirt driveway to the white paneled farmhouse near the centre of the property, small Jack Russel Terrier running right beside him the whole way. His backpack bouncing over the material of his navy blue jacket and the tread of his sneakers on the thin gravel seemed to be the only sound in the tiny town.

Despite his obvious eager intent to run home at top speed, he would stop at the garden and pick one of the few flowers remaining before taking the front steps cautiously. He would then stop at the front door and take a breath before reaching for the handle and stepping inside. Daniel, who had been watching the clock like every weekday in the afternoon, was already at the front door when his son came home. He made sure the dog was inside before closing the door behind them and he helped his son to take his backpack off for him.

“How was school, spud?” Daniel asked quietly.

Everything was quiet.

“Good.”

Was always the response; quickly followed by a hopeful,

“How’s Mama?”

“Resting. You can go say hello if you like. Wash your hands first.” Daniel took his son’s jacket and shoes and then watched him hurry up the straight flight of stairs to the second floor. The six-year-old turned right at the top into the main bathroom and he heard the tap turn on.

With the school things tucked away in the front closet, Daniel headed back upstairs too and stepped into the master bedroom to the left of the stairs right behind his son.

“There’s my boy.” a soft voice greeted from the queen size bed just around the corner from the door as the little one climbed up onto the soft mattress.

Daniel leaned on the corner of the wall and watched the mother greet her son with the best smile she could offer him. Marigold was always like that; always smiling. She was rested back against a few down filled pillows under the cream coloured quilt and brushed her son’s messy brown hair out of his eyes.

“How was school, my darling boy?” she asked him like she did every weekday afternoon.

“Good.”

Was always the response. He held out the flower to her with his mother’s same smile.

“I picked you a flower, Mama.”

“Well, aren’t you as sweet as sugar?” Marigold tisked with a smile and took it from him to give it a little sniff. “Just like your Daddy, aren’t you, Lennox Blake?”

Six-year-old Lennox was just as in love with his mother as his father was and every time he looked at her, little hearts nearly floated in his light blue eyes.

“Are you better, Mama?” Lennox asked, like every day.

Marigold held his face in her hand that wasn’t taken by the small flower, “Not yet, sweet boy. I think I need some more of your magical hugs to see if that will help.”

Lennox grinned and nodded, shifting closer quickly.

“Gently, spud.” Daniel reminded softly from where he stood watching.

“He’s okay.” Marigold assured her husband softly, welcoming her son’s small body on top of hers with a smile and a slightly strained sigh. She twirled her fingers through his messy hair and kissed the top of his head, “I missed you so much today.”

Daniel walked around to her side of the bed and picked up her still-filled water glass before leaning down to kiss her dry lips, “Want me to put your pretty flower in a vase for you?”

Lennox smiled proudly at the offer and Marigold agreed with a small smile, holding out the small flower to her husband to take downstairs. With two hands free, she could hold her little boy more securely now and drew those little patterns over his back that he always liked, watching her melancholy husband leave to put the flower in a little glass of water for her and to start dinner preparation, petting the cat sleeping on the end of the bed on his way past.

Marigold didn’t know what she would have done if she didn’t have Daniel. She was a young woman of twenty-seven, in love with her high school sweetheart, and happened to be served the worst of life in the prior month and a half. Despite her diagnosis, he didn’t falter for a moment; he tended to her day in and day out as she got sicker and still treated her just as sweetly as he had on their very first date. She was the love of his life. What else was he supposed to do?

With Lennox upstairs telling Marigold all about his day, Daniel hurried around the kitchen to make dinner. He decided on a simple vegetable soup – something easy…he hated being too far from Marigold for too long – and set the three bowls on a tray with the flower in a glass of water with them. He set the tray on the top of the dresser in the master bedroom and helped to get Lennox sitting up in the middle of the bed with a pillow helping to prop him up before he passed him the half-filled bowl and a spoon.

“What do you say?” Marigold whispered.

Lennox smiled cheekily up at his father, “Thank you, Daddy.”

“You’re very welcome, spud.” Daniel replied with a half smile.

He took his own bowl off the tray and set it to the side so he could bring the last one over to his wife. She glanced up at him silently as he set the tray over her lap. Their eyes lingered on each other’s for a moment as if they were having a silent conversation just the two of them as their son ate quietly beside them.

“Still not hungry?” Daniel asked ever so quietly.

Marigold shook her head gently.

Daniel hesitated for a moment but nodded and exchanged a kiss for the tray back. He set it on the dresser and set his own bowl beside the other before joining his little family on the bed. He wasn’t hungry either.

With Lennox eating contently between his parents, they watched him peacefully, Daniel’s arm draped around him and his fingers twirling the end of Marigold’s long hair through his fingers. They raised their little boy with the best manners so being able to eat in a bed and not at a table was quite exciting for Lennox. To the six-year-old, his mother simply had a cold and needed to stay in bed until she got better. He still saw the smiles she gave him and the warmth of her hugs and even though the house was quieter than it once was, he was sure it would be lively again.

After dinner, Daniel got Lennox bathed and dressed into pyjamas and sat him on the floor of the master bedroom to watch some TV before bed. With the boy distracted, Daniel tended to his wife; shifting the pillows behind her to have her resting down a bit more and felt her forehead for any sign of a fever. He picked up the chapstick from the bedside table and popped off the cap to apply a layer or two to her dry lips. Marigold watched him quietly, his furrowed brows and solemn blue eyes and careful steady hand that traced her familiar lips.

“You’re going to give yourself wrinkles, my sweet.” Marigold whispered with an ever so light chuckle, reaching up a dainty hand to smooth the creases between his eyebrows. “Don’t want to age that pretty face of yours too soon now.”

Daniel only stared at her for a moment, still leaned in close from having applied her well used chapstick and he offered a weak shrug and a dull, “Doesn’t matter.”

“Daniel.” Marigold sighed quietly.

“I’m sorry.” Daniel mumbled, bowing his head for a moment. He leaned in again, kissing her lips twice and then her nose once and her cheek before standing up straight and put the chapstick away. She smiled faintly at him and reached up a careful hand to dust over the thin material of his white button-up that was rolled to the elbows. It was open and he had a white tank top on underneath tucked into black jeans. She liked him like that; casual and effortlessly handsome.

The TV played on quietly in the background and Lennox sat on the rug with the family dog sleeping his head on his lap. The six-year-old adored the pup…he truly was this boy’s best friend. Marigold smiled lovingly across the room at her unaware boy, his brown hair plastered wet over his head and he sat slouched slightly on the floor as he watched his evening show. Daniel brought the dishes downstairs and tidied up the kitchen a little before returning to his family and switched off the TV.

“Daaad.” Lennox whined.

“Come on….story time with Mommy.” Daniel said softly, picking up the puppy from his lap so his son could climb back on the bed.

Lennox crawled up next to her and plopped himself down and pulled the quilt over his small legs. Marigold smiled and tucked her arm around her son so he was cuddled right up close to her side. With the hand that wasn’t holding the dog, Daniel passed over their favourite storybook to read – well, at least Marigold’s favourite. She bought it within the first month she found out she was pregnant, far too excited, and I Love You Forever sat front and center on the bookshelf in the nursery for all of Lennox’s young life. She had read it to him so much the spine was creased and a few pages a couple rips along the edges but they didn’t mind.

Daniel sat down with them and the dog curled himself up beside the cat the end of the bed while the family of three cuddled up together for a bedtime story. Marigold read quietly, her voice fading as the story came to an end and she coughed lightly as she closed the book gently. Lennox smiled up at her.

“One more?” he asked sweetly.

“No, no. It’s bedtime, sweet boy.” Marigold chuckled, pressing a kiss to his head.

Lennox nodded obediently.

She smiled gently at him and pet her hand over his damp hair, “I love you.”

“I love you this much!” Lennox threw out his arms wide, almost hitting Daniel in the face.

Marigold laughed weakly at their son and took his small hand in hers to pull him close and he cuddled up against her chest. She looked down at him and his tired blue eyes that were already starting to close from just being in her arms. She brushed her finger along his chubby cheek and gave it a little squish, “I love you more than all the flowers in the garden…and all the buggies in the fields…and all the leaves on the trees…”

With the little boy fading in his mother’s arms, it was time for bed. Marigold gave her son one last good night kiss to his soft cheek.

“Sweet dreams, my darling boy.”

Daniel scooped him up and Lennox gave her a sleepy wave from his father’s shoulder before he was carried down the hall to bed, the puppy rushing after them. His nightlight was switched on and Daniel made sure to tuck him nice and secure under his quilt like every night and the dog was left on his small pillow under the window. The book was placed back on the shelf and Daniel brought over Lennox’s favourite stuffed bear to cuddle with and tucked it in his arms.

He crouched down at his son’s bedside and brushed his large hand over Lennox’s small head, keeping his hair back from his face. Lennox blinked sleepily at him, cuddled up with his teddy bear.

“I love you.” the little boy yawned.

“I love you, spud.” Daniel whispered. He leaned in to kiss his head before standing up, “Sweet dreams.”

The door was shut behind him and Daniel lingered in the hallway for a moment. The window at the end of the hall sent streaks of moonlight over the hardwood and Daniel hadn’t even realized the sun had set. Days were blending into each other, hours were passing by too quickly, and Daniel felt like his life was dwindling right before his eyes. He could try to catch it – try to reach out and grasp what time he had left but it was inevitable. It was terminal.

Daniel returned to the master bedroom and closed the door behind him as to not wake his son. It wasn’t like there was going to be much noise at all in the silent house but it was habit. Marigold smiled tiredly at him from their bed and he walked around to her side to pet a hand through her hair. She leaned into his touch.

“Do you want a bath, sunshine?” Daniel asked softly.

Marigold just blinked tiredly up at him, her cheek resting heavily in the palm of his hand, “No, thank you.”

“Can I wash your face at least?”

“If you insist.”

Daniel stepped into the ensuite and ran a sink of lukewarm water to dampen a facecloth. He returned to her bedside and sat down with her to wipe her face gently with the cloth to help her feel somewhat put together. He usually helped her bathe every second day – every day if she was feeling up for it – and changed the sheets as often as he could to keep her fresh and comfortable. He was a good man.

Marigold’s face was wiped clean the best it could be by her husband’s gentle hand. He sat back from her and she rested her hand on his arm.

“Thank you.”

Daniel set his hand over hers, “What else can I get you, sunshine?”

Marigold thought for a moment and she sighed, “I think have to pee.”

Daniel nodded and stood up from the side of the bed to drop the facecloth back in the ensuite. He gently peeled back the quilt and the sheets and made sure her nightgown was down around her knees before sliding his hands around her back and helped to sit her up. She clung onto him weakly and he slowly shifted her legs off the side of the bed.

“Can you stand?” Daniel asked softly.

“Think so.” Marigold whispered. She held onto his arms as he helped to ease her up out of bed.

When she was standing, mostly using him to lean on as he held her up, Daniel noticed the wet patch in the bed.

His pause had her sighing, “It happened again?”

“Yeah.” Daniel said. “I’ll change the sheets.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, Mari.” Daniel pulled over the usual wooden chair to her bedside and helped to ease her into it. It was one from the kitchen table but over the prior month or so it found its usual home in the corner of the master bedroom, only usually used by Daniel to sit with his wife as often as he could. With her sitting, he shooed the cat off the bed and worked quickly to strip the bed and change the padding on the mattress that was recommended by the doctors. He grabbed the extra sheets from the linen closet in the hallway and worked quickly to remake the bed for her.

Marigold watched him, her brows furrowed lightly as if in thought. She spoke quietly, “Is Lennox home from school yet?”

Daniel didn’t look up as he tucked the corner of the sheets under the mattress and answered his wife softly, “Yeah. He’s already in bed.”

Marigold nodded weakly.

When the bed was remade, he took an extra nightgown and pair of comfortable underwear from the dresser drawer for her and set them on the bed so he could change her out of her damp clothes. She raised her arms the best she could and Daniel shimmied her nightgown over her head and dropped it to the floor before carefully easing her out of her soiled underwear. They stayed silent as he re-dressed her and Marigold clung onto him as he shifted her hips to get her underwear up her legs and as he pulled her fresh white nightgown over her head and made sure her hair was out of the neckline. He pressed his palm to her forehead to feel her temperature. She seemed fine.

Daniel held her arms in his hands and eased her up out of the wooden chair. They stood chest to chest, Marigold having to look up at him slightly, and they just stared at each other for a moment. Illness seemed to age her from her twenty-six years, but she was still the same sweet young woman Daniel fell in love with across the high school gymnasium. He raised one hand to her cheek and brushed his thumb over her skin.

“Will you dance with me, Mari?” he asked ever so softly, caressing her cheek with the back of his finger.

“Dance with you?” she chuckled tiredly. “I can try.”

Daniel smiled lightly and led her around from the side of the bed to the center of their room, making sure she took each step carefully. He pulled his phone from his back pocket and opened the music app to select their song. The gentle guitar melody filled the room and Daniel set the phone on the fireplace mantle to give him two hands free. Despite her pain, Marigold was smiling at him, letting him raise her arms to his shoulders and he wrapped his right around her waist to help hold her up.

“You okay?” he whispered behind the introductory music.

She nodded and she pursed out her lips to get him to dip down and kiss her. As the lyrics started, she rested her tired head on his shoulder and let him lead, rocking them back and forth slowly in place in the middle of their bedroom by moonlight. She was almost limp in his arms although she tried her best to move with him, her bare feet shuffling slightly underneath her as they swayed.

So girl, leave your boots by the bed,

We ain't leaving this room

'Til someone needs medical help

Or the magnolias bloom

It's cold in this house and I ain't going out to chop wood

So cover me up and know you're enough

To use me for good

They danced often; usually Marigold would insist and drag Daniel away from whatever he was doing to have a quick dance in the kitchen or in the garden whenever the music from the radio hit her. Daniel wasn’t much of a dancer but there was something about Marigold’s contagious dimpled grin that always convinced him.

She truly was his sunshine, always dancing or singing or smiling whenever she could…the light of his life. Her spark was in their son too with her same smile and ability to pull Daniel from his shell. Lennox was the perfect mix of both of them and it broke their hearts that trying for a second baby was the beginning of the end. They had years worth of plans; things to do and places to visit and songs to dance to. They were each other’s person…just with not enough time.

Marigold’s hands tightened on the back of Daniel’s shirt, eyes falling closed as she let the music move them slowly around the rug of their room. He held her up, one arm around her waist and the other petting her hair as he let his breaths fall calmly against her neck, listening to the gentle song and the words that spoke too close to his heart.

Daniel whispered them to her, “But home was a dream, one that I'd never seen, 'til you came along”

So girl, hang your dress out to dry

We ain't leaving this room

'Til Percy Priest breaks open wide

And the river runs through

And carries this house on its stones

Like a piece of driftwood

So cover me up and know you're enough

To use me for good

“Dani.”

He paused their dancing for a moment as the quiet music played on from the mantle and glanced down at his wife, “What is it, Mari?”

“I’m…” she struggled to take a breath, “I’m really tired.”

“Okay, sunshine, I got you.” Daniel whispered and pressed a kiss to her forehead. He crouched down ever so slightly to lift her up in his arms, carrying her slowly back to bed as she kept her hands around his neck.

You knew it was serious when Marigold asked to stop dancing.

He laid her in bed as the song played on in the background and tucked the blankets up around her. He pressed a hand to her forehead and then to her cheek when he found her a little cold.

“Do you want the fire on?”

“Yes please.” Marigold whispered, blinking tiredly up at him. “And a sweater?”

Daniel let the song play through as he knelt down in front of the fireplace across the rom and took a few pieces of chopped wood from the basket next to it to light a fire. With a match lit and tossed in, the kindling caught flame easily and soon the room was filling with comfortable heat and a warm glow. Daniel returned to his wife’s bedside with one of his hoodies in hand and helped slide her arms into it and tucked it around her thin body before he sat himself down in the wooden chair as the song ended and the room fell back into perfect silence.

Marigold’s smaller and frailer hands fit into both of Daniel’s larger ones with ease and he rubbed his thumbs over her dry skin, his fingers callused from years of farm work, hockey practice, and guitar. His skin was rough but all too familiar and Marigold smiled weakly up at him from where she laid in bed. The moonlight that shone brighter through their bedroom window at the back of the house illuminated her thin face with the warm light of her bedside table lamp and Daniel stared at her silently. Their nights consisted of that now; lingering eye contact and hand holding, as if they hadn’t had enough of each other over the last eight years.

Her hair didn’t shimmer beautiful blonde like it used to, in fact, her whole appearance felt faded. It almost was as if she was from an old movie, drowned out in sepia and black and white until her tones and shades were as plain as the cream coloured sheets she laid in. The pillows were covered in tangled waves of her long hair and Daniel brushed the strands from her face with a gentle touch before raising her hands to his lips and kissed her knuckles. Marigold’s dry lips fought to smile slightly at him and she ran her finger over his wedding ring that was set on his left hand.

“What are you smiling at?” Daniel asked softly.

“You.” she answered with ease. “My sweet Daniel.”

He kissed her hand again, letting his lips linger there a moment longer before resting his cheek down. Her fingers were cold against his flushed face and he just held her there to try and keep her warm, staring up at her.

“I love you.” Daniel whispered.

“I love you so much.” Marigold breathed.

She inhaled a little, struggling to catch her breath for a moment, and Daniel kissed her fingers one by one before resting them against his cheek again. They didn’t speak for a moment, just staring at each other with nothing but heartache adoration. It was as if they both knew.

Marigold weakly traced the shape of Daniel’s hands as he simply kept his eyes on her pale face, humming the tune to their song. Each line and callous over his skin was home to her touch, the veins on the back of his hand and the ring on his finger were part of her too. Daniel swore Marigold lived in him since they had their first kiss in the back of his pickup truck all those years ago. She was a part of his body, his heart, and his soul.

He sat with her as the minutes ticked by and the moon rose higher in the dark night sky, carefully watching each of her shallow shuttering inhales and rocky exhales. His soft voice filled their bedroom, singing to her quietly through the night. Midnight came and went and Daniel didn’t move from the chair at her bedside, his heart racing in his chest and his voice quivering slightly as he sang to her. His head rested down on her stomach and she weakly brushed her fingers through his sun-kissed brown hair. He could hear her heartbeat with his ear pressed to her body and it was slow and faint. His lyrics faltered for a moment and he sat up from her again.

“Marigold.” Daniel breathed.

She licked her dry lips and her cold hand fell into his, offering him a weak, “What is it, my sweet?”

“Mari…I…” Daniel’s blue eyes brimmed with tears but he didn’t dare let a single one fall.

Not when she was laying in front of him with death on her shoulder.

Daniel took a deep breath, “I…I don’t know what to do.”

Marigold nodded gently, her own light eyes brimming with tears, and she linked her pinky with his, “I know.”

He rested his elbows on his knees and held her hand in his against his lips, “I love you so much.”

“I’ve loved you enough for five lifetimes.” Marigold whispered.

He waited with her. He sat at her bedside and held her hands and sang to her quietly and let the minutes tick by, only praying for more. More moments to see her smile, more seconds to hear her laugh, more minutes to feel the soil softened texture of her skin. Time was slipping from him. Time was a landslide and he watched the world fade from the bright eyes of the love of his life day by day. He could hold onto her as tightly as he could but there was no mercy to be spared. His one true love was dying. And there was nothing he could do to save her.

Her breathing was starting to rattle slightly and her chest shuttered with each inhale. Daniel sang to her quietly, reaching up to tuck her hair behind her ear and caressed her cheek before holding both her hands in his. Marigold had tears in her eyes and she trembled sightly, not tearing her eyes from her husband.

“I got you.” Daniel whispered, shuffling closer to her bedside so she could feel more of his presence. “I’m right here.”

He held her hands and sang their song quietly to her as her breathing slowed and she grew weaker. The fire crackled soothingly from across the room and the moon shone brightly through the window overlooking the star sprinkled garden.

It was quarter to three am when Marigold’s chest fell still.

Daniel’s whispered singing faded out as his eyes dropped to her hand falling limp in his. He looked back up at her face, her eyes half closed and focused on him but unmoving.

“Mari?” Daniel breathed, giving her hand a little squeeze.

She was unresponsive.

“M-Marigold?” his voice broke.

The house was quiet. Far more quiet than Daniel was used to.

Daniel’s next breath ached his chest, burned his throat, and broke his heart. He lifted up Marigold’s hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to her cold skin. At least they had their last dance.

He swallowed back his tears desperately, trying to convince himself that it was expected and he had the last month and a half to prepare…but how can you truly prepare to become a widow? Daniel pulled his phone from his pocket as he stood up from the chair and stood by the window overlooking the darkened gardens of their acreage as he dialled the funeral home as told. It was closed at barely 3am so Daniel left a message. When the line beeped, he couldn’t find his words for a moment.

Saying it out loud made it real.

“Hi this is Daniel…Daniel Seavey…it’s around 3am…” he checked the time, “2:49am…and…I was told to call when my wife…when…when my wife…”

Daniel looked back towards the bed and forced himself to breathe before focussing back out the window into the darkness.

“…when she passed.” Daniel swallowed thickly and bowed his head. “Give me a call when you open and come to…retrieve her…I’ll…I’ll meet you at the door. Thanks.”

Daniel hung up and slid his phone back in his pocket and leaned his forehead against the cool window with a trembling sigh. He had promised Marigold many times since her diagnosis that he would be brave for her and no shut down but holy shit he felt like his heart was shattering right out of his chest. He took a moment to breathe, to try and keep his emotions at bay which wasn’t easy especially being sleep deprived and exhausted, but forced himself to face the bed again. Marigold laid still.

Daniel walked over and tucked her arms under the blankets and brushed her long hair out of her face. She looked like she was sleeping if it wasn’t for the pale complexion of her face and the cool touch of her skin.

The house was perfectly quiet as Daniel stepped out into the hallway and took the stairs slowly but surly. He fed the cat and started the laundry and busied himself in the silence that rang in his ears. He felt like he was dreaming, floating, gliding around the house as he turned off the lights and locked the front door but left the porch light on for the funeral directors to arrive after sunrise.

Daniel found himself in the doorway of his son’s room, watching the six-year-old sleep soundly and peacefully, unbothered by the world. He had thought about it for the last month or so; how he was going to tell Lennox that his mother died and was never coming back. That would be one of the hardest things Daniel would ever have to do in his life.

With Lennox left sleeping, Daniel closed the door again and returned to his own room. He smothered the fire and closed the curtains and busied himself with getting changed into his pyjamas. He only really made it halfway: sliding on a pair of plaid lounge pants and shrugging off his button up before his body physically couldn’t hold back anymore. His sudden sob startled him and Daniel pressed a hand to his mouth to keep from possibly waking his son in the next room.

He turned off the bedroom lights and climbed into bed through his blurring tears and shuffled up close to his wife. She was cold and limp but he was heartbroken and all he wanted to do was hold her one last time. So Daniel curled his arm around her waist and nuzzled his face in her neck to try and encompass himself in the familiarity of her. His tears dripped down his cheeks and into the soft fabric of his hoodie that she still wore and he clung onto the material and cried until he was sure he was drowning in his tears.

With his son asleep peacefully nearby, Daniel forced himself into silence; weeping and whimpering through strangled gasps that he smothered into the shoulder of his sweater, wrapped around his wife. He knew it wasn’t his fault and that there was nothing he could have done differently to save her, but he still cried out a pathetic, “I’m sorry” into her neck, stroking her hair and almost hoping to will her back to life.

The farmhouse was quiet, their property was quiet, and the entire small town of Lincoln seemed to be perfectly silent as the minutes ticked by, the hours blended into each other, and Daniel cried the orange sun above the horizon. The small yellow marigold flower sat wilted in the cup on the nightstand. 

Seasons Change Taglist: @jonahlovescoffee @stuffofseaveyy @randomlimelightxxx @hiya-its-amber @hopinglimelight @midnightpsychic @sbrewer21​

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[truly-madly-slytherin]

The Dark Princess

*gif not mine//credit to the owner

A/N: Hello loveliessss! 🌸 so I’m hoping that my writing in this chapter has improved somewhat from the last and that it is as magical for you to read as it was for me to write ☺️ I appreciate every like, reblog and follow so thank you all so much 🥰🥰 there’s a bit of a jump between the prologue and the main story so this is more of a filler chapter and in case anyone is confused she has the diary because Tom makes sure (Y/N) intercepts it in between Ginny getting rid of it and Harry finding it. Alsooo I suck at introductions so bear with me 😅 Happy reading peoples! 🥳🥳 Italics = flashback/dream, (E/C) = your eye colour, (H/C) = hair colour

Summary: It is the beginning of the summer after your fourth year and you are moving into Riddle House with your father, at his insistence, making you think back to when you first met him during your second year at Hogwarts. You won’t be there for long though... 

Pairing: AU Lord Voldemort x daughter!reader, Tom Riddle x OC!

*I don’t own any of these characters except the OC, all rights belong to J.K. Rowling and the filmmakers

 PROLOGUE

Chapter One

➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰

Riddle House once stood as the most prestigous mansion in Little Hangleton. Now whimpering on top of the hill, a ghostly shell of itself; it’s derelict and decrepit condition reflected the sinister history encased within the walls. Each room explored was more somber than the last, and emptiness clouded the air so thick it was almost suffocating.

*gif not mine//credit to the owner

The floorboards creak beneath your feet as you traipse down the hallway, your father a few steps ahead.

“And now... we have the kitchen” he announces with a flourish of his arm. Dimly lit by a grubby window, the room, like the rest of the house, left a lot to be desired. Tiles hung from the walls whilst every surface was caked in decades worth of dust. Cobwebs strewn here and there, the sink was more rust than steel and there was a large cavity where the cooker once stood.

“It’s.... interesting” you force out, the weak taste of iron flooding your tastebuds as you bring your teeth down on the flesh of your bottom lip. Taking out his wand Voldemort flicks his wrist and the dingy room quickly transforms itself into a modern kitchen.

“Wow!” you whisper running your fingers along the cool marble.

Turning to face you, his nonexistent lips contort into a terrifyingly sweet crescent. “Luckily I had the foresight to prepare your bedroom before you arrived.”

Trudging back through the hallway, you take time to notice the portraits hanging along the wall, a series of black smudges where the faces once were. Wandering upstairs you spot a door with a wooden rose-embossed sign reading ‘Y/N’s Fortress’.

“Here goes nothing” you sigh.

Entering, a gasp escapes your lips. In the middle of the large room stood a king sized four-poster bed, adorned with a rose quilted headboard and white chiffon curtains. To your left was a beautiful vintage french dressing table complete with matching bedside tables decorated in tiny hand-painted black, red and pink roses. The grand wardrobe standing beside it, decorated in the same tiny roses, could surely house more garments than you even owned. To your right hung a wicker swing seat, pink rose buds woven throughout, appearing as though it was made entirely from the delicate plants, positioned perfectly in view of the large Edwardian window. Hanging above the headboard were pictures of you, your mother and father, clipped evenly along a piece of string intertwined with fairy lights, glistening as each scene plays out before you.

“I mustn’t take any credit, Bellatrix was in charge of the preparations.” Your father states watching you from the doorway.

“It’s beautiful” you whisper, tears welling in your eyes.

Voldemort set about fixing the rest of the house giving you time to settle and take it all in. Lying on the soft mattress, you think back to the first time you met your father, a stark constrast to the man you know today.

Sitting at your desk the blank pages stare back at you and your fingers rake through your messy (H/C) curls for the hundredth time. Front to back the diary was barer than the day it was made.

You had been in the girls bathroom during lunch when you noticed something on the floor. Finding a small black book with leather as soft as feathers and gold lettering along the bottom, you pick it up to inspect it further.

“Tom Marvolo Riddle.” 

Your eyebrows crease as the name rolls off your tongue, a frown etching it’s way onto your forehead. What would a boys diary be doing in the girls bathroom? Nevertheless you keep the book, and make your way to class, letting it burn a hole through your satchel until the end of the day. Your last class was Potions and with any luck it would go quickly. Settling into your seat, you spin around to the cute blonde haired boy behind you.

“Is there any one at Hogwarts named Tom Riddle?” You ask him, red hot flames licking at your cheeks as his crystal blue eyes meet yours.

“Not that I know of. And I know everyone who is anyone around here” he snorted. Choosing to ignore the radiating arrogance you turn back to the front, mind racing. The diary didn’t belong to a Hogwarts student at all, so how on earth did it end up in our bathroom?

Your leg jerks up and down repeatedly below the desk and your eyes wander back to the clock. 3:43pm. Exactly one minute had passed from the last time you checked. Ahead of you Professor Snape is droning on about a potion you hadn’t yet caught the name of. 

“And the 5th step in the brewing of the Wiggenweld Potion is...?” Snape drawls out, his beady eyes searching out his next victim. Chewing on your lip you try to concentrate, to no avail.

“Miss Rosier?” His expectant eyes land on you, lips curling into a signature smirk.

“A-add more salamander blood until the potion turns t-turquoise” you splutter.

“Very good. Someone who has obviously been making notes, wouldn’t you agree Mr Weasley?” The air escapes your lungs with a whoosh as he narrows his eyes at Ron across the room. Ron gulps, ducking his head in an attempt to hide the crimson blush now creeping up his cheeks.

Finally the clock stikes 4 and you make sure you’re the first one out, darting between the students and managing to make it halfway through the dungeons before the bell rings out. “Pureblood” you mutter, the portrait swinging open. “Ooh someone’s in a hurry!” Paying no mind to the painting you dash up the stairs.

“Tracey?”

“Daphne?”

With no answer you plonk down at your desk and begin writing.

“My name is Y/N Rosier, and this is my diary.” 

Your (E/C) eyes go round, lids refusing to blink as you watch the words slowly sink into the page. Your small hands vigorously rub at them and yet the page remains just as blank as it had been originally. Your brain scrambles to make some sense of what is happening, but not giving your thoughts a chance to untangle themselves, words begin to materialise across the page.

“Hello Y/N.”

Curiosity trumping any thought of sense, the tip of your quill connects with the aged paper once more. “Who are you?”

“My name is Tom Marvolo Riddle.

And I am your father.”

Your breath hitches in your throat. The fluttering birds that previously occupied your ribcage die out as your heart threatens to beat right out of your chest, pumping ice throughout your veins at an ungodly speed. The pounding in your ears nears defeaning as the middle of the book suddenly throws out streaks of blinding light.

Regaining your vision you’re surrounded by stone walls and green glowing lamps. The click-clack of shoes echo through the dungeon as hushed whispers become audible.

“No Tom! I told you- I warned you- I told you something bad would happen- that something so evil would surely have consequences, and you ignored me. And now look! A girl has died Tom!” The young woman vigorously shakes her head, her wild ginger curls bouncing about her face while she scolds the boy. 

“Lower your voice before somebody hears you.” He hisses, the pair coming to a halt in front of you. His lips curl into a sneer as his large hand wraps around her dainty wrist. “I am Lord Voldemort after all.” 

“Don’t you dare talk to me like that!” she seethes. Snatching her wrist from his grasp, her perfectly manicured finger points at his face. “Your name is Thomas Marvolo Riddle and I am not one of your little followers bowing down at your feet and kissing your arse! And most importantly Tom, I am not scared of you!” She storms off and Tom continues hot on her heels as you scurry behind. 

“For Merlins sake! Fleur wait-” Blocking her path, Tom’s hands come to rest on the girl’s arms, this time gently caressing her skin. “I’m sorry I should never have spoken to you like that, I don’t want you to be scared of me... I forget myself sometimes. Forgive me?” His hands move to cup her cheeks, and her slender arms wrap loosely around his torso as her anger seemingly dissolves.

“Well don’t forget yourself too much around me otherwise one day you may turn around and I won’t be here Tom.” At least a foot shorter than him, his chin rested comfortably atop her head. 

“Don’t worry, Princess, it won’t be long now before I am crowned the greatest sorcerer the world has ever seen.” Her head buried into his chest ignoring the icy tones lacing the boys words.

Your hand shoots to the base of your skull as a dull ache begins to resonate. ‘He needs to work on his landings.’

“Y/N there you are! Where were you? We missed you at supper. And what on earth are you doing on the floor?” Daphne gives you a quizzical look before extending her hand and helping you up.

As you dust off your robes you try to think of a convincing lie. “I wasn’t feeling very well after Potions. I had to run straight to the loo and then came to lie down - I suppose I must have fainted.” With a shrug of your shoulders you begin to change out of your robes, Daphne following suit.

“Lumos.”

With everyone else now asleep you decide to take your chance to figure out just what on earth is going on. The faint glow illuminates the makeshift tent you had created with your bedcovers, an inkpot balanced expertly between your knees and quill secured between your teeth. Opening the diary with your free hand you reposition the wand. 

“Are you there?”

Just as before the ink disappears, so sucking in a breath you stare at the page. After a few moments nothing had changed. ‘Of course it’s blank you bloody idiot. I must be going bloody barmy!’ 

Before you could finish scolding yourself, the words appear across the page.

“Hello again Y/N.”

“What happened earlier?” Not having much time you wanted to get straight to the point. 

“No beating around the bush, I like it. Just like your mother.”

“My mother Fleur?”

“Yes, Fleur. She truly was a wonderful witch. Say, do you think you could do me a favour Y/N?” 

You weigh up your options before replying. “Not until you tell me what’s going on.” 

“I will answer all of your questions, but it must be in person.”

“But how would I? You couldn’t even see me earlier.”

“I will show you how, just go to the girls bathroom on the first floor.”

Under the mask of the invisibility spell you sneak out of the common room, diary clasped tightly under your arm. Moving through the dungeons it doesn’t take you long to reach the first floor bathroom. As you await your instructions you begin to feel a strong magnetic pull towards one of the sinks. Unable to resist you move to stand opposite. Lightly tracing the stone serpent beneath your fingertips, your mouth opens and words of a language unknown to you flow out. Suddenly the marble sink shifts to reveal a vertical tunnel.

“Jump Y/N. Jump!”

Without giving it a second thought you launch yourself down the hole. Your face scrunches up like a ball of paper as you brace yourself for an impact that doesn’t come. Landing on something soft and scaly, you open your eyes.

Below you was the largest snake you had ever laid eyes on, with skin the colour of green ivy and piercing red orbs easily the size of your skull, if not bigger. Bowing down, it repositions your body on its spiky head, and begins speeding through the tunnels. Coming to a stop in front of a large stone monument, the creature bends down and gently slides your slim frame off, and onto the wet floor.

As you stand upright, a silhouette steps out from the cover of the shadows.

"My darling Y/N..."

KNOCK. KNOCK. 

Bolting upright, your confused eyes dart around the room. The sky was now jet black and above you the fairy lights were glowing softly in the darkness. Rolling your legs off of the bed you answer the door to find your father standing on the other side, arms tucked neatly behind his back. 

“My apologies love, did I wake you?” he asks with a level of affection you hadn’t been expecting.

“Yes but no matter, I hadn’t meant to fall asleep in the first place” you reassure him, shrugging off the last remnents of sleep. 

“Very well. I have some unexpected business to attend to, and as you are still new to this house I don’t feel comfortable leaving you here alone, so I have arranged for you to stay with a dear friend of mine for the remainder of the summer” he states matter-of-factly, leaving no room for compromise. 

“Oh. I hoped I would be staying here for the summer.” 

With your (E/C) doe-eyes and lips pouting just enough to be noticeable, you were the image of your mother when she was sulking, and Voldemort found a dull warmth spreading throughout him at the reminder of the distant memory. 

“I know Princess I do apologise. I hoped we would have the opportunity to bond during your time away from Hogwarts. However the situation is simply unavoidable.” 

“Fine” you sigh in defeat. “So who will I be staying with? Anyone I know?”

“You’ll be staying with the Malfoy’s.”