#like ma'am its not my responsibility to fix my parent

[galaxythedragonshifter]

Thinking back to the time when another Christian told me that I was "not trying hard enough" and "taking the easy way out" when cutting off my father

[anxiousstark]

The Aura Painter | DOB

Painter! Dylan x Princess!Reader

Word Count: 12K (12.057)

Warnings: Mentions of sexism, masturbation (mutual or solo), unprotected sex (this is a fic, be safe), cum play, breeding kink, filthy tbh, some cliché romance scenes. This is my second time writing ‘smut’. But this is the first time writing something so long and so filthy, bear with me.

A/N: This is an idea that I’ve had in mind for so long. Hope you guys enjoy it as much as I enjoyed imagining it. And of course, writing it. If you do, please give it some love and share it. The biggest solo piece I’ve ever written!

All Rights Reserved. The author, me, don’t allow any type of copy or adaption.

BIG MASTERLIST  |  KO-FI

Words you must know for the fic:

Onism (n.) the awarness of how little of the world you will experience.

Heriaeth (n.) a homesickness for a home to which you canot return, a home which maybe never was; the nostalgia, the yearning. the grief of lost places of your past.

Elysian (adj.) beautiful or creative; divinely inspired; peaceful and perfect.

.

The droplets of rain fell against the glass, leaving a trail which I followed with my gaze. The glistening tear of water disappeared before I could place my finger against the window and imitate that I could command its movement.

The sky seemed to cry, turning a darker shade. Perhaps the sky had lost a lover or perhaps, the one they loved was far from its reach. I could not tell as I never experienced one of those stories.

The books I had to read as a child were those who would teach me how to act and think. But those I read on the confines of my room when everyone was sleeping were different. Those told the story of a beautiful lady who wished to be rescued by a gentleman. I would try not to squeal under my blanket, as that was something, a lady of a high position should not do.

I glanced at the sky again as it screamed, lightly swaying the trees outside while his droplets of tears wetted everything under itself.

"M'lady," I corrected my form, trying to look as straight as possible. Turning around, I glimpsed directly into a pair of green eyes that seemed to lose their brightness as the seasons passed. Those eyes used to be the brightest ones in this palace, but now they were almost colourless, decorated by a couple of wrinkles. "Your mother is asking for your presence at her table."

That was unusual. My mother was a sophisticated distant woman who liked to spend time on her own. Hence, she tried to escape from her responsibilities as a Queen while having breakfast by herself. She would relax outside in the gardens. A small white table filled with her preferred meals, and even if she sought to convince herself, and lie to me about her drink being just a mere juice, everyone knew it wasn't.

"Tell me, Harold," While walking through the corridors of the palace, I noticed once again the monotony. The clicking of my heels appeared to be the only sound, except the melody of the rain falling against hard surfaces. "Did the Queen seem mad?"

Harold tried not to chuckle, knowing that if my parents or any of my siblings were near, he would end up getting struck by executing such a natural gesture. "I must say that the Queen did not ask for the cello man to accompany her this morning with some music."

I gasped, glancing at him to discern if he was teasing me. Harold had been in our family for so many years. I dare to say that he was in this palace before anyone else.

"She must be quite mad, then." I bit my lower lip, trying to think what of the things I have done could have gotten her mad, and how she had discovered them. "Perhaps she found the romance novels hidden in my room?" I muttered to myself.

"M'lady," Harold opened the door to the great hall. "She preferred to eat her breakfast in here as it is raining cats and dogs outside." He whispered, letting me walk in first. I silently nodded my head, wandering closer to my mother, who was sitting on the farthest place even though she was on her own. "My Queen. The young Lady has arrived. If my services are required, I will be waiting outside to escort the young Lady back to her room."

I shivered as soon as Harold left the room, wishing he could have stayed with me. But of course, he did not deserve the wrath of my mother. While walking closer to her, my clicking heels seemed to resemble the countdown of a bomb that would explode shortly.

"Take a seat, my darling," She demanded as soon as I was close to her. I swallowed, swiftly grabbing the skirts of my dress. I sat down on the white chair in front of her. She coughed. "Someone quite similar to the young Lady of the palace has been seen on the street market." A newspaper was placed on top of the table, facing me.

I swallowed one more time. "Must be someone who resembles me." I attempted to sound confident. "I am afraid that happened on Friday, and I take piano, courtesy and manner classes that day."

"Tell me, darling," She faked a smile. Her dark brown eyes, studying my position and expressions. "May I ask how you knew this happened on Friday as the article does not say something like that?"

"I-." Her stare became even more intimidating. "Guessed?" I squinted my eyes, perceiving that she would raise her voice to inhuman levels.

"Nor did you only skip your classes, you also lied and went outside on your own." Her tone was sharp. "Hideous things could have happened to you. Do you know what this could mean to your brother's throne?" Of course, this was about my dear brother. "The sister of the future King of Onism does not follow the rules of the palace. Then, what should they expect from their new King?"

"I did not do anything inappropriate, mother." I sighed, shifting my gaze to look at her directly. "I did not get in trouble, and as you can perceive, I am all right."

She rolled her eyes, which surprised me as she always claimed for that gesture not being refined. "And books," She pointed to one of the chairs, where I noticed all my favourite romance novels resting upon it. She had found them.

"May at least have some privacy in the confines of my bedroom?" I was mad, but raising my voice to her would get me in even more trouble. "Those," I referred to the pile of books that were my most precious property. "Those are mine."

"Not anymore," She got up, grabbing one of them and examining the title. "Romance novels? When will you understand that nothing like this happens in real life?"

I felt a little strength going through my body. "That book, in particular, describes the love story of the author! It is a romance that happened to her in real life. It is not fiction."

"But that woman was not a princess, was she?" I shook my head as she waited for my answer. "However, you are one. Even if you do not have anything to do with the future throne of Onism, your brother does, and you must behave like a princess." She walked closer to the fireplace. My eyes widened, and I gasped loudly. "You are a woman and a princess. The only thing you must worry about is making your future husband happy while following his rules, even if you do not love him." She opened the book, her skinny finger ripping some of the pages, and in the process, shattering my heart. "You will get married to someone you do not love, just to unite two countries." She let the book slip from her fingers. Falling to the fire, and burning as much as my eyes were burning due to the tears. "Stop filling your head with stories that will never happen to you. You are dismissed."

I got up from the chair, slightly glancing at the pile of books. I knew they would end up in the fireplace, slowly burning. I bowed my head. "I apologize, mother." She made a gesture with her hand, instructing me to leave the great hall.

My head was down as I walked to the door, wishing to exit the room and rant to Harold. "Wait," The voice of my mother interrupted my walk. "Get prepared as in two hours a man will come to paint a portrait of you. We will send the portraits to different future Kings of other countries that have shown interest in courting you."

"Yes, mother." I could not argue.

As I came out of the room, I noticed Harold's gaze fixed on me. I shook my head, letting him accompany me to my chambers. While walking through the long corridors, I glanced outside the windows. I reminded myself that I would never dance under the rain with someone while we laugh and kiss. I will never be caressed with love. I will only be touched with the purpose of bringing an heir to someone. An heir that would have to live the same dull life as me.

Going inside my bedroom, Harold bowed his head while he walked away. However, three ladies that worked in the palace entered my room, ready to assist me. I could not even take a bath on my own, nor could I dress by myself as the three of them did it for me.

"The painter will be here soon, ma'am," Rosetta informed, deciding to stay in the room as a lady should not be alone in a room with a man who is not her beloved husband. "He is a painter from town, said to have a gift."

"Is he quite known?" I asked to continue the conversation as I did not want to be rude. Nonetheless, the image of my books burning was the only thing in my mind.

"He is known in town for doing amazing portraits in exchange for food and a place to live." My curiosity peaked at the comment. "Royals are quite interested in getting their portraits done by him. Though, he had denied their offers." I looked at her with confusion. "He does not want to be related to any royalty member." I nodded my head, understanding why he did not want that.

There were two knocks on the door, indicating that the painter was here. I was quite surprised as my mother wanted the portrait to be painted in my private chambers. "Please, come inside."

When the door opened, a tall man came inside. He was probably around 5' 10". Wide shoulders that were covered by dark brown clothes. It seemed to be his best attire. Even though you could see the cheap fabric, and how he had tried to cover some holes and get rid of some stains. He had tried to gel his hair back. At first, I thought his hair was black until a streak of light fell on him, and I discerned it was a little lighter than that.

His light brown eyes fell on me, and studying them in-depth, I noticed that they resembled to be hazel. He bowed his head. "Uhm, it is a pleasure to meet you, Princess. I am here to-."

I offered him a smile. "Welcome to the palace," I bowed my head a little, which seemed to surprise him. "Please, do not call me Princess. It is fine to call me Lady." I gestured to one of the chairs in my room. "Please take a seat. It must have been a bumpy ride to the palace."

While sitting down, he nodded his head. There was a big black binder between his hands. Noticing my gaze on it, he quickly opened it, showing different canvas. "I can make different types of portraits. I thought I should bring some examples for the Pri-, Lady to choose the one she fancies the most." He stretched his arm, providing his drawings for me to look at them.

"May I ask for your name, sir?" My eyes focused on his drawings, understanding why everyone wanted to get their portrait done by the young man.

"My family name is O'Brien, while my name is Dylan, my Lady."

I nodded my head while still focused on his magnificent paintings. However, one in particular seemed to grab my full attention. It was the portrait of an elder, who appeared to be looking deep into me. He was skinny, and by his clothes, I could tell he was poor. He was sitting on a chair, and I almost gasped when I discerned that he had a missing leg. His expression was warm, a gorgeous smile decorating his face. Though, you could see that he had missing teeth.

"Did you find any equivalent style to what you desire?" His soft voice snapped me from my thoughts.

"May I ask?" I turned the portrait around, giving it back. His eyes examined the elder he had drawn. "Why is he smiling, but there are shadows around him?" I had noticed that the elder was smiling. However, black and grey adumbrations were around his figure. Some resembled horrible monsters. Especially a grey shadow that resembled a demon, resting upon his head.

He chuckled. "Those are the ones people in town ask the most." He glanced at me. "I draw their exterior as they want other people to see them. But then, around them, I draw what I can perceive or what I learnt about them." I furrowed my eyebrows. "Sadly, this man passed away a couple of weeks ago due to a cold." He licked his bottom lip. "He had offered me a home for a couple of days, and of course, he had proposed food in exchange for a portrait. Those days, I learnt many things while listening to his stories. I noticed that the man was attempting to look happy for his sick wife, whom he loved with his entire soul."

I fidgeted on my seat. "What happened, then?" I curiously asked, making him grin.

"He was not happy. He was afraid of losing the love of his life because death had knocked a couple of times on their door." He glanced at the painting. "Their children had married to people in higher positions, ignoring the elderly couple and not helping them with medicines. He was 87 years old, working in the town market. He was selling vegetables that he was cultivating by himself." He decided to continue as he saw that I was expectant of knowing more. "He never lost the smile for anyone, even if people did not treat him right. And of course, when arriving at his house, he would maintain the smile for his wife."

"Then," I tried to hide my teary eyes. "Those dark shadows..."

"Those are the monsters he tried to hide, but that I got to meet. The fear of losing his wife, the frightening feeling of wanting to end his own life, the fear of not having money to pay for his wife medicines, and so much more."

"And what happened to them?" Rosetta coughed, indicating me to fix my posture, and I quickly did, which made him furrow his eyebrows.

"As I said, one of his biggest fears was that they did not have enough money to pay for his wife's medicines." He peeped at the ground for mere seconds. "She died in her sleep. Her body could not hold the pain anymore, and she faded away."

"What about the old man?"

He nodded his head, his gaze shifting to the portrait. "He passed away in his sleep too. There was a smile in his face."

I blinked, affected by the grievous story of those who had to fight to survive. "I want one of those!" Both Rosetta and Dylan looked at me with surprised expressions decorating their faces. "I would like one of those portraits."

"My Lady, I'm sorry to intervene on matters that I should not. But I do not think the Queen will like such a portrait to be sent to those who are interested in courting you." She was right.

"She will not look at the portrait. Harold will be the one sending them." I affirmed, knowing that my mother would not dirty her hands for anything.

"It could get the young man in trouble, my Lady."

I glance at the man, who was looking at Rosetta until his eyes met mine. "Yes," I smiled, even though I was upset. "You are right. Then," I studied a portrait, a simple one. "I would like this one." Dylan nodded his head.

"It would take a couple of days to finish it. But I will be staying in the palace for the time being." He informed. "Is there any time of the day where you prefer to spend your time just standing in front of me?" He blushed a little. "Just for the portrait, of course."

"Tuesdays and Fridays I must spend receiving 'Lady classes'. The rest of the days and hours, I will be in here." I sighed, offering him another smile. "Did they give you directions for the room where you will stay?" Nodding his head, he showed me a piece of paper with some important directions to places of the palace that he could visit. "Your bedroom is at the end of this corridor. You are lucky as it is empty, except for me and Harold's room." Of course, he had met Harold already. "I must warn you not to leave your room after 11 pm as there are guards everywhere." I got up from my chair. "Rosetta," I pointed at her. "She will bring every meal to your room. Do not hesitate if you need to ask them something. There are a bathroom and a study in your chambers."

Before he could answer, the door of my chambers opened. A broad man stumbled in with decisive steps, and fury adorning his face. I gulped, stepping back before I could hold myself.

The man threw a newspaper at me, hitting my chest. Glancing at the floor, I witnessed the same newspaper my mother had been holding a couple of minutes ago. "Again?" His voice was sharp. "Did you escape again to buy those stupid books?" I shook my head. "Oh, yes, you did. Mother told me." His boots sounded like thunders as he walked closer. "I do not desire to hear any rumour of how my sister is not acting like a lady." My brother Evans glared at me. "If my future in the throne is affected by your stupid imagination and ambitions, I swear I will do whatever I must do for you to learn your lesson."

"I am s-."

"Do not you dare speak back to me!" He screamed. His gaze shifted to Dylan, who was standing too, eyes widened and what seemed anger decorating his face. "Are you the painter?" He nodded his head. "Try to make her attractive in the portrait. Hopefully, some rich soon-to-be King from another country will want to marry her." He peered at me. "Luckily, he will know when a woman needs a genuine beating to act like a lady or a wife." Those were his final words as he left the room. I finally could breathe.

"Uhm," My legs shook, and I attempted to hide it. "As I said before if you need anything, do not hesitate to ask."

"Thank you, my Lady." He got up from his chair, clutching his paintings. "Is it all right to start with the portrait tomorrow morning?" I nodded my head, wishing him goodnight as he left my bedroom.

"Rosetta," Her hands were behind her back, respectfully. "Tell Harold that I demanded not to be disturbed tonight. Not even for dinner." She nodded her head, bowing and leaving me on my own.

I sighed, wandering closer to a full-body mirror that decorated one of my walls. The moment I feared the most was getting closer. I would marry someone whom I do not love. I would marry someone whose eyes would not hold back from gawking at other women. And with those thoughts in mind, I went to sleep.

The following day, I decided to have breakfast and lunch in my chambers, not wanting to face my mother or my older brother. I had convinced Harold to stay outside my room, wanting to be on my own with Dylan. I thought that I would feel more comfortable if I didn't have someone constantly checking my posture or warning me of what should not say. Moreover, I also believed that a painter needed his privacy to reflect his art on a canvas.

I was stunned toward the bright day outside. Looking out of the window, I saw my little siblings running around the garden as some servants followed them. They were probably making their job even more complicated. Alexander and Victoria were quite the troublemakers. However, I was thrilled for them as they would not have to follow such strict indications, as to the ones I had to obey.

"Are those your siblings, my Lady?" Scared by the prompt presence, I turned around. Dylan was standing there, holding a big canvas and a briefcase, which I assumed held his painting materials. "I apologize if I alarmed you. Harold permitted me to come inside."

I nodded my head. "Yes, they are twins." I offered him a smile as he grabbed a chair, placing it in front of me. I discerned that my back was resting against the wall, and I quickly moved to stand straight. "Oh, please, no." He extended his arm. "Would it be okay for you to go back to that position? The light was caressing the right side of your face. There was a beautiful contrast." I swallowed, nodding my head while resting my back against the wall. I heard him chuckle. "Please, do not worry. It is okay for you to blink, breathe or swallow. It is also okay for you to do light movements."

"May I talk?"

"I am not great at holding conversations, but I will try my best, my Lady." He placed the blank canvas on the easel. His hands worked fast while taking out his painting material from the briefcase. "If it is not rude," He swallowed, probably questioning himself if it was okay to continue speaking. "I have noticed some books lying under the bed," I glance at my bed. Noticing that some books could be seen, which meant he was good at observing and that I did not hide my books correctly. "What books do you read?"

"Well," I gulped. "I read books about manners a lady should have in front of males and for the table. I study geography too as I must know the rest of countries for future alliances, and-."

"I apologize, my Lady." He wetted his brush. "Perhaps I formed the question wrongly. I wanted to know which books you enjoy."

My mouth opened as no one has ever asked me such a question. "You will think I am a typical young girl."

"Cannot think like that, my Lady." He mixed some colours. His painting brush, caressing the canvas delicately. "You are not a typical young girl. You are the Princess of Onism." Though those words shattered my heart, he was right. I would never be a 'normal' girl as my life was nothing like the one of an ordinary lady. "However," He continued. "When you paint someone, you get to comprehend them deeply. I believe I might discover that you are an ordinary human at heart. Something beautiful that would separate you from cold-hearted royalty." I was surprised by his words as people would not dare to talk of royalty like that.

I offered him a smile. "You might." He got distracted for a couple of seconds. His eyes navigated from the canvas to me, trying to retain my features and the folds of my clothes. "Romance." I was flustered. "I do truly enjoy romance."

"I presume something you will experience as soon as these portraits are sent."

I shook my head. "Something I presume I will never experience." His eyebrows furrowed once again. "Royalty men have the right to choose whom they will marry, even if they do not love them. Women will have to accept whomever their parents choose for her." My gaze shifted to the window for a couple of seconds. "It is my destiny."

He stopped painting for mere seconds, staring at me while slowly blinking. "Destiny can be changed." I shook my head. "It can," He nodded his head. "It might be scary or go against the rules. But destiny can be changed by the decisions you make. Only you are the sailor of the ship." He grinned. "That is something my father used to say."

"Used?"

"He passed away." He gritted his teeth. "He was a great painter too. Better than me." To my curious gaze, he decided to continue. "My mother left when I was a baby. She fell in love with a younger man, leaving my dad and me." He gulped. "Therefore, I would not dare to say that I have seen love as my mother left without looking back."

"H-Have you experience love, sir?"

"Please, call me Dylan, my Lady." There was a comfortable silence between us as he seemed to be concentrating on the portrait. "Not sure I did. Love is not what is shown in books. Nonetheless, I would like it to be like that."

"I cannot agree or disagree." I offered a sad smile, trying to hide my tears. "May we take a rest?"

He glanced at the clock hanging on my wall, nodding his head. "I apologize, time went by so fast." He cleaned and placed his paints inside his briefcase. "Good night, my Lady." I bowed back to him as he closed the door.

I waited for a couple of minutes, opening the door and seeing Rosetta waiting there. "Where is Harold?" I glance around, hoping to see the grey-haired man.

"He had to take care of some issues." She replied, looking nervous. "Do you need anything, my Lady?"

I quickly nodded my head. "I expect no dinner today, and I demand to be left alone." She furrowed her eyebrows, and before she could speak back, I stopped her. "I would like to take my nightly bath on my own, please." She nodded her head, walking away after wishing me a good night.

I closed the door of my chambers, quickly locking it as I rapidly walked into my bathroom, doing the same thing to the door. Walking closer to the bath, I turned on the faucet. I checked the temperature of the water until it was lukewarm.

I sighed as my hands went to my back, untying my dress. As the clothes fell to the ground in a surprisingly elegant manner, I appreciated not being forced to wear a corset. My legs shook as I placed one inside the water until I was sitting down.

I have read in books how a woman and a man would fall in love. A passion that they could not resist. An absolute passion that would make their hands wander through their bodies, wanting to feel each other as close as possible. I have read it so many times that I could lie to my head, making it think that I have experienced something like that.

I have read the way hands seem to burn on the skin, and how breathing becomes more arduous. And how after being pleasured, you need it over, and over again.

I sighed, feeling my nipples hardening, and I learnt they could do so even if the temperature was not cold. My left hand gripped the edge of the bathtub as the right hand rested on my chest. I decided it was time to move it, and closing my eyes, I left it to wander down while grazing my nipples.

When my fingers caressed my tummy, they seemed to become shy. Not used to the places they were descending. I have read books, but I have never experienced the feeling, which made me feel curious.

I tried to remember all the books. My fingers ended up placed on top of my bundle of nerves, and just the mere touch made me shiver from excitement. I slowly moved them in circles, adding more pressure, little by little. The temperature down there seemed to get warmer to the point where it burned. I could not avoid the need to move my fingers faster.

My left hand continued to grip the edge of the bathtub, but this time harder as my mouth opened and my vision became blurry. I felt this strange sensation. I felt like I was going to urinate inside the warm water, and even though I felt quite disgusted by the thought, I could not stop my fingers. They moved in circles, faster and adding much more pressure.

And it came. A rush of pleasure came over my body, and I could not hold back the moans escaping my mouth as I peeped down between my legs. My intimate parts turned red due to temperature and agitation. Then, I regarded the water near it, looking less transparent. So that was it. That is what a woman felt after pleasuring herself.

Curiosity invaded me even more, and I wanted to experience more further.

A couple of days had gone by, and the portrait was already looking amazingly good. I did not have any doubt of Dylan's talent as I have seen some of his works.

"Has anyone shown you around?" We had got a little closer as we spent many hours together for the portrait. He shook his head, taking off his dark green beret, and resting it on a nearer seat as he proceeded to mix some colours. "Would you like to see the gardens and the horses?"

His eyes widened. "Horses, my Lady?" I chuckled at his expression, nodding my head.

"Eight to be exact." His eyes widened even more. I remembered everything he had told me about himself, especially his love for horses. "We could take a rest. I feel dizzy from the smell of paint." He promptly nodded his head, halting and resting his brush on top of an antique plate stuffed with remains of paint.

Strolling through the gardens, I peered at him. He seemed content, having the chance to smell the fresh air mingled with the scent of the white roses that decorated our gardens. "White roses are your favourites." He had surprised me while retrieving such a simple, but a unique fact about me.

I nodded my head. "I prefer them over red roses. Those are overrated." He laughed, making my heart beat loudly. Dylan was an attractive man, and these past days I could not stop my body and my heart from reacting as soon as my gaze met his. "The stables are over there." I pointed to a couple of meters away from us. I extracted my arm as I felt something falling on it. "Oh, it seems like it   will start drizzling." We walked faster to the stables, almost running as the rain appeared to fall swiftly upon our clothes. "You will adore Arden. He is my hor-." I was interrupted as I saw two bodies stirring frantically against each other. Their moans, invading the stables. "Wh-." A hand covered my mouth while another dragged me off the stables. Dylan and I ran under the rain, getting as far as possible from the horses' house.

Both of us gawked at each other in astonishment. "Maybe my eyes deceived me. However, I believe that was Harold?" He seemed as shocked as me.

"They did not trick you." I gulped. "May I add that woman was my mother?"

His eyes widened even more. "T-The Queen?" I nodded my head. "I am so sorry, my Lady."

"I am not angered by the fact she was committing adultery! I know my father is no saint." I gritted my teeth. "I am mad by the fact she lives a miserable life. In which she had to marry a man she does not love, and she wants to impose the same duty on me!" My hands reached my hair, fingers clutching it. "It is not fair for her to desire the same dull and cruel life for me!" Dylan kept quiet, allowing me to rant. "Why must not I experience falling in love with someone? I crave to be touched by adoring hands, not dirty ones that will not care about my desires and will expect for an heir to be conceived." I sighed. "I ache to live that romance until the day I die." I let my posture fall, whining. "Why cannot I be kissed by someone truly interested in me? Why cannot I be touched by someone who desi-."

My speech was interrupted as Dylan's hands rested on my cheeks. His lips were tightly pressed against mine. I have read how a kiss was mostly controlled by the fight of tongues, aspiring to be the dominant one. But this was just a simplistic kiss.

"Oh my-." His eyes widened as my mouth fell open. "I apologize for my behaviour. I do not know what came over my mind for me to-." My hands were now covering his cheeks as I bought him closer. My lips were awkwardly pressed against his. He separated from me, blinking dumbfoundedly. "Close your eyes." I did. "Open your mouth a little, my Lady." His thumb drew my lower lip downwards. As he got closer, I felt his tongue stroking my bottom lip.

My hands were pushed against his chest as I gripped his white shirt between my fingers. One of his hands had to wander to my lower back as my legs shook. His tongue was now grinding against mine, and not knowing what to do, I mimicked his actions. My mouth instinctively melted against his.

"You will be the death of me, my Lady." He held me closer. His right hand, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "Literally."

The following day, I walked to the great hall, confident enough not to knock on the door before stepping inside. My mother seemed shocked to be interrupted by my presence, as she gripped the teacup tighter.

Harold wandered behind me, fear written all over his features as he had never seen me disrespecting my mother in such a way.

I gestured for the cello man to leave the room, which he quickly did, not even daring to glance at my mother. "How dare you to come inside in such a-."

"I will not get married." I interrupted her, something I have never done before. I had been informed by my brother that there was a powerful candidate for me to marry. A 52-year-old man. "I will not marry someone I do not love, and even less a 52-year-old King just for our countries to be at peace."

"You have no say on it."

"Mother, do you want me to live the same life as you?" I ventured to ask. "Do you want me to marry a man who will sleep with every servant or woman that crosses his way while my future children will have to suffer the consequences too? A boy that ought to follow the rules of a King until he becomes a tyrant. And a girl who ought to have to act as demanded. Merely for the young male of the family to be even more respected?"

"As I sai-."

"Will I be like you then, mother?" My lower lip trembled. "Will I be cold-hearted towards my children, towards my daughter? Will I have to submit her to the same shameful life as me?" I did not let Harold intervene. "Will I have to close my eyes to true love and consume my infatuation with the person I truly love in some dirty stable?" Both of them were shocked by my words. "You are preparing and forcing me to the life you both have. I do not want to hide from the public eye and keep the person I cherish a secret."

"If this is about that paint-."

"He has nothing to do with this." I did not appreciate the way she spoke about Dylan. "I have openly expressed my discomfort about marrying someone I do not love since I recollect. I understand romance books do not happen in real life. But love does, and marrying someone for my brother's throne is not love." I sighed. "It is not fair for us, women, to be treated like this while men are approached like that!"

She surprisingly glanced at me for a couple of seconds before her sober expression appeared once again. "Every King marries the women they choose. We cannot decide. Every King has bastard children." I had to remind myself that Alexander and Victoria were the children of one of our servants. "Even your brother is going to have a bastard child." I furrowed my eyebrows as it was the first time hearing that news. "Rosetta." A disgusted expression decorated my face.

"Well," I breathed deeply.  "Destiny can be changed." I recited the same words Dylan had told me once. "It might be scary or go against the rules. But destiny can be changed by the decisions you make. Only you are the sailor of the ship." I glimpse at Harold. "I am tired of not being the sailor of my ship." I softened my voice. "Think about it, mother. I will do everything in my power to get out of here, even if it means dying in the process." For the first time in my life, my teary eyes were met with the glistening tears that invaded my mother's eyes. "I will be in my chambers. Please do not bother me at all."

When arriving to my bedroom, I did not expect to see Dylan waiting inside. I locked the door behind me as my eyes examined his entire body.

"Are you all right, my Lady?" He showed the briefcase he was squeezing between his fingers. "Rosetta told me to wait here for you. Since we could not continue with the portrait this morning, I assumed that perhaps, we could tonight."

"Let's escape together." My mouth seemed to move on its own. However, Dylan stared at me with complete confusion decorating his features.

"My Lady, I do not think I understand what you are trying to imply." He knew.

"I have told you before I do not plan on marrying someone whom I do not love." I walked to my bed, sitting down on the mattress. "It has been decided without letting me know that I will get married to the King of Hiraeth."

He glanced down at the floor for a couple of seconds to later shift his gaze on my direction. "Perhaps he is not only a noble because of his blood. Perhaps he is also noble at heart."

"It does not matter if he is noble at heart or not," I answered decisively. "He is a 52 year-old-man! And as I said before, someone I do not love!"

He sighed. "My Lady," Resting his briefcase on the floor, he pulled a chair to sit in front of me. Though, he maintained the distance. "If I am not wrong, you have never met this man before. You might end up fallin-."

"Do not dare to say that!" I got up from the bed, eyes flickering. "Please, do not be like the rest of those who live in this palace! The first time you came here, you told me I could change my fate." He swallowed, nodding his head. "That is what I am trying to do." My hands were squeezing the skirts of my dress. "Please."

"I cannot take you anywhere, my Lady. You are the Princess of Onism. Everyone in town knows the beauty you behold." He coughed while deeply looking into my eyes. "I do not know anyone that will keep the secret of you being in to-."

"You are not understanding me, Dylan." I tried to ignore the way his body shivered every time my tongue and lips worked together to create his name. "I know I told you that I have never experienced love." I bit my lower lip, taking a breath. "I only know what I have read in books." He nodded his head, waiting for me to continue. "But I understand my feelings. Even before the day we kissed under the rain, I was already attracted to you."

"Attraction is something that can be felt many-."

I stepped closer, making him glance up. "It was attraction, I admit." Both of my hands navigated towards my back. "But my heart beats madly, whenever you are near me, whenever I glance at you or when I think about you." He got up from his chair, slightly stepping back. "I am utterly sure that I am in love with a man who worries about me and my feelings. Someone who has been encouraging me and that has seen my fears."

"My Lady," He gulped. "I truly feel honoured to be inside your mind and heart. I will not lie as I do also feel the same towards you." When I moved closer, he prevented me. "But you are a Princess, and I am just a simple man who paints in exchange for food and a roof." He blinked fastly. "I cannot give you the life you might expect." He offered me a side-smile. "And of course, our relationship would not be approved by the King and Queen." His voice turned softer. "Neither by the soon-to-be King of Onism."

"I do not care!"

"But I do, my Lady." He breathed deeply. "I do not want you to live a life where people will insult and degrade you plainly because you married a penniless man, or because you did not obey the established rules of the members of the royalty."

"I already have that life, where I am discredited just because I am a woman." This time when I stepped closer, he did not back away. "I already have to follow settled rules for the sake of my brother." My hands were still behind my back, and I finally decided to let them untie. He did not notice yet. "But now I have found someone who makes me feel something I have never experienced before." I sighed. "What did you do to me, Dylan?" He opened his mouth. "My mind and heart are full of you, and they constantly demand my body to be filled by you too."

His neck and cheeks turned red as he seemed to have difficulties while swallowing his spit. His eyes shifted around the room, trying to decide what to do. "My Lady," He sighed in desperation. His hands travelling through his body while he clenched it and gritted his teeth. "I truly have been trying to hold back." His hands now grazed his face. "I have been trying to hide how in love I am with you as I am just someone who does not deserve you."

"You are the man who deserves me the most." The shoulders of my dress fell, displaying my bare skin. His eyes widened even more. "And you do not have to hold back anymore." Finally, the cloth fell onto the ground. "I have read so many things, but I have never thought of experiencing them." I felt embarrassed by revealing such a matter. "I could not hold my hands from exploring my body for the first time as your image was in my mind."

"You did?" I nodded my head. His eyes had never left mine, not even to peer at my underwear. A rush of confidence seemed to hasten through him as he walked to the door, securing it. "Show me." My expression must have confused him. "Show me how you did it."

It was my turn to gulp as I got on my mattress, lying down on my back. I was slightly sitting thanks to the pillow, which granted me to discern Dylan as he shuffled closer to the end of the bed.

My bralette was already off, but his eyes still fixed on mine. "You can look." As soon as those words came out of my mouth, his eyes glanced down at my chest. It seemed like he had complications breathing.

My hands gently travelled down, gripping the sides of my underwear and slowly bringing them down my legs. The chilly air was a contrast of temperature to my entire body. I shifted my legs to completely discard my panties, which ended up someplace on the ground.

I permitted my fingers to touch the bundle of nerves, suffering a chill through my body that reminded me of that time in the bathtub, or the following times where I could not restrain my needs. Rubbing on circles, my other hand went to my mouth, biting on it not to make any sound.

"That is how you did it?" I nodded my head. "Until you exploded?" Again, I acknowledged with my head. "My Lady. Has any man touch you in such a way?" Shaking my head, he offered me a smile. "May I be the first one to do so?" I nodded my head, which he did not seem to like. "Please, use your words."

"I do," I did not hesitate. "I do want to be touched by you, Dylan."

"I might die right now, my Lady." He wandered closer. His hands slowly discarded his dark blue beret. Then, his fingers rapidly unbuttoned his white shirt, which had some dark little stains due to his paintings. His body was fit, enough to make a woman drool. I must say, he seemed broader than what I have imagined. "Have you ever introduced your fingers inside?"

I shook my head.

I hear the sound of his shoes falling to the ground as he kneeled on the end of the bed. His right hand moved my left hand from my clit, leading it to his hair. "Hold on tight, my Lady." Not sure of his next actions, I shivered as his breath hit my heated core. His tongue peeked out from his mouth, gently grazing my centre.

I gripped his soft hair between my fingers, making his gaze shift to look deep into my eyes. His tongue lapped, adding pressure on my clit. I whined as his tender tongue left my core to slid down and up a couple of times, extending my wetness all over my intimate part.

I was utterly surprised when the tip of his tongue ended up inside me, and he seemed to noticed as he grounded it against my walls. His right hand slowly left my thigh, where his grip had been tough. "I will be gentle." His whispers were almost unnoticeable as my moans were louder, feeling one of his warm fingers getting coated by my juices as he introduced it, inside my vagina. "Does it feel good?" Without waiting for an answer, he started thrusting it. His lapping tongue and his thrusting finger, producing a drooling combination.

"Oh my god," The candles that were lit, and resting on the table next to my bed seemed to flatter by a scene hotter than their flames. "Faster, please." I must not lie. Introducing his second finger on me had provided a slight pain. But seconds later, it had been replaced by an unbelievable pleasure. "Please do not make me beg."

"I would like to see you beg, my Lady." His mouth had left my clit, chin dripping with my fluids. "I would love to see you beg under the light of the candles while no one else knows that you are getting the love and passion you deserve." His fingers made a wet sound when they left my insides. I could not help but whine as he got farther from my body but became expectant when his fingers played with his belt.

As soon as he slid his pants down his legs, I could not help but moan again. There was a bulge between his legs, and I could not help but get flustered thinking about having him inside me. However, I was quite worried about his size as he already seemed thick through his pants.

I remembered a scene from a book where this girl had her first experience with her childhood friend. They had become lovers and decided to consume their love on top of the counter of the protagonist's kitchen. Her description of the scene was incredibly detailed. And even though my body had become more heated while reading it, I could not help but be worried when she described the experience as feeling as if she was getting 'ripped', which was quite vulgar but exciting in an unusual way.

I had been distracted by my thoughts, as to when I realized my rounds, Dylan's member was finally free. It stood tall and thick against his stomach. He could not help but contain his grin as I gasped.

"I never-."

"I know, my Lady." His hands grabbed my ankles, calmly making their way to my thighs, which he squeezed while separating my legs even more. "I am utterly happy to be the first and only man to make love to you." Uh? "I will take care of you for the rest of my life." His eyes looked deep into mine, asking for permission for his next movements and actions. Of course, I nodded.

He grabbed his shaft, his hand circling it while he thrust into his clenched fist a couple of times. He left if free, spitting on his hand to later grab his member again, lubricating it.

"I am a little scared," I confessed, shifting my gaze to his face. "You are so thick and long. H-How is that supposed to fit inside-."

"We can stop if you want, my Lady." One of his thumbs caressed one of my thighs. "There is no rush and enough time to do this whenever you feel ready."

"I do want to do it! I am just a little scared." I gulped, glancing down at his member. "Could you maybe go slowly?"

He nodded his head, getting closer and placing a peck on my lips. "Whatever you wish for, my Lady." Asking for permission again, he waited until it was granted, for the tip of his member to graze the lips of my vagina. "Here I go." He started adding pressure. Until the entire tip was inside, making me gasp. "Sh, breathe." His right hand went to my tummy, caressing it. "We can go slower."

I nodded my head as I took deep breaths, ignoring the tears that were falling from the corner of my eyes. A couple of minutes went by when I decided that the pain had become a pleasure. I shifted my hips toward Dylan. I was right as there was only pleasure. "Dylan, please," I whined. "Please move."

His entire member was inside me, and Dylan's thrusts had become steady and swift. His mouth was travelling from my jaw to my lips, sometimes stopping to ask for my well-being.

One of his hands left my hips, going between our bodies as he started circling my clit, adding more pleasure. "Oh my gosh," I raised my voice, not being able to hold back the incredible feeling. "Lord, please go faster." I circled my legs around his hips, bringing him closer if it was possible. His member, hitting places that it could not reach before. Wails of satisfaction came out of my mouth. "Please, fuck me harder."

He seemed quite shocked by my choice of words as his eyes widened. But he had seemed to enjoy them too, as his thrusts became even faster and sloppier. "I will not last long." He groaned, not afraid of expressing his pleasure while his lips grazed my ear. "I have been dreaming of this for so long." His moans made my entire body shiver. His right hand, circling my clit even faster. "Please, my Lady. Tell me you are close. Please."

"I am!" I drowned my screams while biting his shoulder. "I am so close." His left hand travelled to my left nipple, toying with it. The different stimulations, getting me dizzy while my vision became blurry. And I came undone under Dylan's body.

Reading was nothing like experiencing it.

My breath was laborious. Dylan stayed inside, thrusting a couple of times more until he quickly came out, thrusting in his clenched fist. He was going to finish soon. His eyes, questioning where to explode. My hands went to my breasts, holding them together.

Dylan's eyes widened as he understood what I was implying. He moved, his hips getting closer as his dick ended up being embraced by my breasts. I held them in place while he thrust, moaning at the contact. His tip, hitting my chin and lower lip. He did not last much longer, exploding and cumming all over my chin and lower lip.

He gasped, our bodies full of sweat. "I made a mess. I am so sorry, my L-." My tongue peeked out of my mouth, licking some of the cum that was resting on my lower lip. "I-. Oh, gosh." His lips settled up against mine. His tongue, parting my lips so his tongue could slowly dance against mine. "Did it feel good?"

"It felt amazing." I was still trying to breathe at a regular pace.

He kissed my forehead, leaving the bed and wandering to the bathroom. His member was still lightly hard. But he quickly gave me the view of his butt.

When he came back, he was gripping a towel. Sitting on the side of the bed, he slowly cleaned his release from my chin and chest. Then, folding it, he cleaned between my legs. He was cautious, trying not to hurt me as my entire body was sensitive. Next, he discarded the towel.

His body fell on the bed next to mine. We both gazed into each other's eyes with foolish smiles decorating our faces. "I do not want to leave. But night curfew will be soon."

"I do not care." I wrapped my sore body against him, breathing in. "Stay here. Nobody will know. You can leave early in the morning." I did not notice I was pouting until his lips pecked mine. Then, the rest of the night was a cuddling blur as exhaustion took over our bodies.

Another couple of days had gone by, and it was nearly impossible to keep our hands for ourselves. Dylan had been sleeping in my chambers, which was difficult to hide. I had been ignoring my mother and Harold as much as possible. And thankfully, my brother was away in a political meeting with my father. We had also continued the portrait sessions, which sometimes ended with our bodies full of paint as we could not hold back for holding each other.

I must confess that there had been sexual escapes around the palace, which was a surprise, as we did not get caught yet. Momentarily, Dylan's boxers were around his ankles like his pants as I was grabbing the skirts of my dress.

My face and chest were pressed against the wall of a tiny room while he thrust in me from behind. "Ah, we will get caught." He whispered but did not stop his movements. "You are going to be the death of me, my Lady."

We had been walking around the castle until I could not hold back myself anymore. I took Dylan's hand, going inside a tiny room that, it is used, for cleaning materials. Therefore, we were fucking as fast as we could, aiming for a release. "Please, go deeper!"

"I believe I am as immersed as I can, my Lady." The sound of our skin slapping against each other turned both of us on even more.

We both were close to our release. But we were rudely interrupted by the door of the room opening, showing Rosetta and Harold, who stared at us with surprise written all over their faces.

Dylan quickly came out of me, pulling his boxers and pants up while I let the skirts of my dress fall.

"Harold," I started. "Please, do not say anything." My eyes begged. "Could you please give us five minutes and wait in my chambers?" Without saying anything, they closed the door. "Oh my god."

"It is okay, my Lady." Fear was visible in his face and voice.

I was baffled as when entering my chambers, my mother was there, next to Harold. He ignored my gaze, staring deep into Dylan's eyes.

"Mother-."

"I told you!" She did not hesitate to raise her voice. "I know you did not choose to be a princess, but this is what we have to deal with." I could not protest. "I am not trying to make you miserable. I was trying to avoid a situation like this where this young man," Surprisingly, she did not glare at the young man next to me, who was squeezing my hand. "And you will be in danger!" She sighed. "Imagine if it was your father or brother finding you two! They arrived early this morning!" I did not know about their arrival. "He would have killed him and make you watch." I gasped, getting teary. "I did not want you guys to end as I did."

"What?" I asked while being overwhelmed by confusion.

"Your mother," Harold decided to spoke as my mother had to seat on the end of my bed, trying to calm herself. "She fell in love with a servant of this palace, way before you were born." Dylan and I were pretty interested in the story. "You do not choose who you love, my Lady." He shifted his gaze between the two of us. "However, keeping such a secret was complicated. And eventually, someone found out." His hand rested on my mother's back. "Unfortunately, the one that discovered them passionately kissing in the gardens was your father." I gulped while swaying closer to Dylan, searching for his warmth. "He executed him right there, in front of your mother."

"Those white roses used to be red." My mother's voice shook while she referred to those planted in our garden. "It was so repulsive to see that his blood mattered nothing when for me mattered the world. He was my world." She offered us a sad smile. "No one mourned for his loss except me. His body was taken away by other servants in uncaring behaviour. His blood could not be seen, because it had splattered on the flowers that had the same tone." She wept, trying to breathe and calm herself to continue. "It was as if he had never existed. I thought I had gone crazy, and I had imagined the love and the man that I desired to have."

"Mother," My eyes were teary. "I am so sorry that happened to you, and now, I understand you tried to protect me." I glimpsed at Harold for a couple of seconds. "But this is just throwing me into a deeper hole. I will end up in a similar situation to yours, and my children will be doomed, to the same cruel fate." I was desperate. "Mother, destiny can be changed." Dylan was looking at me, a tiny smile on his face while he rubbed one of my freezing hands.

"I have seen you grow up," Harold intervened. "I have learnt every one of your moves, understanding when you wanted to cry or laugh." He grinned, crossing his arms. "Deep inside, I knew one day you would want to fight from the established and dull life you are supposed to live."

"He spoke to me." My mother continued. "Harold opened my eyes, and he taught me to perceive that you were falling in love with this young man." She bowed at Dylan, and he returned the same gesture. "And I perceived that this young man was falling in love with you too."

"Your father and brother lied of their whereabouts." Harold stepped closer. "They bought with them a visitor."

My mother shifted closer to us. "It is the King of Hiraeth." She gulped. "The 52 year-old-man that they expect to marry you with."

"No," I shook my head. "Please, mother." I could not stop the tears from falling down my cheeks. "Please, mother. Do not let them do that. Please. Please." Before I could fall to my knees, my mother held her hand up, offering me a brown bag.

"It is yours now." My mother replied, sliding the bag into my hands. "This will help both of you." Money, there was a lot of gold inside the bag. Dylan was looking inside the container with wide eyes as I did. "If I had stolen money from your father, he would have noticed. Therefore, I bargained my jewellery." Her hand unconsciously went to her neck, and I noticed her diamond necklace missing.

"Here," Harold extended his arm, offering us a piece of paper. Dylan clutched it. It was a map. "That black circle is your shared property. It is a near kingdom, not too far from here but enough for you two to be safe and not be recognized, as the Princess of Onism."

"What?" My mouth was agape.

"It is Elysian. It is a small town full of life, and it is secure." Harold explained with a smile. "It is your new home. The money will help you guys for a couple of years, but of course, my Lady, you will have to get used to a life without servants and luxuries. However, I do not have any doubt that you will be able to adapt to such a life."

"Then," I glanced at my mother. "You are helping me escape?"

"I am helping both of you leave." She cried. "I am helping you get out of the life you did not choose and the one you do not desire." I turned around to stare at Dylan, who had tears running down his cheeks while smiling at me. He shyly pecked my forehead. He wiped his tears while bowing again, staying in that position for a couple of seconds. "No, no, please stand up." He did. "We are family now. Please take care of my little girl."

"I will, your highness." His words sounded so confident that it made my heart beat violently.

"W-What about you two?" I glanced between them. "Are you coming with us?" I was expectant to hear their answer.

My mother shook her head. "We did change our destiny." She referred to the present situation. "Do not worry about us."

"But-."

"My Lady," Harold took me into his arms, embracing me. "Escaping is more complex for us. But do not worry, because we will end up getting away from here. One day, we will." He smiled at me. "For now, Arden is prepared to take you both far from Onism tonight."

I nodded my head. "Take care of my mother, and thank you for being like a father to me." After squeezing him, I quickly hugged my mother. "Thank you. Thank you so much."

Before they left my room, my mum turned around. "Dylan is your name, right?" He nodded his head. "I viewed the portrait. It looks marvellous. Take it with you." He was perplexed. "The portrait was for the man that will marry her. That man is you, so that portrait belongs to you."

"I bought gifts!" I overheard two squeals, rolling my eyes with a foolish smile, adorning my features. Two tiny figures ran to the owner of the voice. "Perhaps you both only love me when I bring presents."

"Perhaps they do." I walked closer to the man, whose beautiful smile was aimed, at me. My right hand gripped his arm, a signal for him to lower his head so I could peck his lips. "Welcome home. I made your favourite dish." My lips had trapped his bottom one between mines for a couple of seconds, making him whine lowly.

He seemed to be dumbfounded while pecking my lips a couple of times until our children interrupted the moment with their excitement to know what their father had brought them. "Well," He chuckled. "I bought my little princess this!" He took a stuffed animal from his coffee-coloured bag. Charlotte squealed and giggled while running around the room with her new plaything. "And I bought my not-so-little prince," He remembered how our little boy did not want to be named as a child anymore. "This." He showed him a new brand book, which cover was of a dark blue with golden touches.

Thomas could not help but grin. "This book was printed a couple of days ago! Thank you so much, father!" He tightly hugged his dad. "Perhaps I could bring it with me to the Addington's home?" He could not help but jump around due to his excitement. "I believe Newt will love it too!"

Dylan nodded his head. "Take care fo your sister, please."

The Addington's were a young family of five that lived next door. We were constantly inviting each other over to our homes, wanting the kids to play together. We, the adults, were also mates. A couple of times, we babysit each other's kids to have privacy with our respective partners.

As soon as the kids were out of the door, Dylan's briefcase had fallen to the ground. He had been away for an entire week due to a commission of a portrait where he would earn a lot of money.

His hands were caressing my entire body as we both tried to make our way to our shared chamber, in hopes of continuing the passion there. "I have missed you so much, my Princess."

My fingers moved quickly, trying to untie the dress I was wearing. My hands were sweaty, and Dylan must have noticed as he ended up unlacing my attire. "I am not a Princess anymore."

He swallowed, eyes focused on my breasts as I was not wearing a bralette. Both of his warm hands slid up, cupping my bosom. His fingers grazed my nipples while his entire hands squeezed the rest. "You are right." His gaze shifted to my lips. "You are the queen of my heart now, my Lady." That name had stayed since the very beginning, and every time it came rolling gently out of his lips, my undergarments got drenched.

"I will explode right here, Dylan." I moaned as my hands were busy sliding down his pants while he worked on his jacket and shirt. "I have missed having you around. And being around you."

He groaned, slipping one of his hands behind my back as he squeezed my buttocks. I whined when he pinched it. "You seem to be so desperate for me."

"That smirk," I grinned while kissing his bottom lip. "Perhaps you are as desperate as me." I glanced down as I spotted his hard bulge against my front.

"I am not as needy as you are, my Lady." The last word was said sensually, making my legs shake.

"I am sure you are as needy as me, Sir." It was that word for him. I could feel the temperature of his body rising.

"What does my queen require from such a humble servant?" He acted while sprawling my body down on the bed. His hands, gripping the sides of my panties, bringing the down and discarding them. "Maybe she needs help down here?" One of his fingers ran up and down, collecting my fluids. He did not hesitate to bring that finger into his mouth, savouring it. "My Lady, perhaps I should confess that you taste like Heaven, itself."

His face leaned closer to my core, but I immediately stopped him. He glimpsed at me, confused. "I want to be the one giving you as much pleasure as possible." Sitting down on the bed, my hands pushed against his chest until he was the one lying on his back.

I questioned myself when he had taken his boxers off as his member sprang free, hitting his tummy. Pre-cum was decorating his pink tip while sometimes, you could see it palpitating as the veins were tightening.

My right hand started working immediately, grabbing his shaft while going up and down. I softly squeezed it as his arm rested on top of his forehead, blissfully. My thumb stayed on the tip, playing with the tiny drops of pre-cum.

"Gosh, are you an angel?" His words wavered as my left hand cupped his balls, lightly tugging on them. "My Lady, I need your mouth, please." I attended his demands, my left hand still playing with his balls.

However, my mouth was also sucking on the lowest part of his member. Licking my way up, my mouth embraced the tip of his dick. His hands went through my hair, settling on grasping it forcefully and guiding me down until his entire thick member was inside my mouth.

His moans got louder as his hips could not hold back, shifting upwards, choking me as his tip scraped the back of my throat. "My Lady." Glancing upwards, I could see the sweat falling down his forehead. His entire body was sweating, especially the part of his chest with a spot of hair.

I sucked harder, preventing my teeth from grazing his delicate member. "May I come inside your mouth, my Lady?" Humming against his dick, he seemed to understand my permission. A couple of hard thrusts that chocked me and he was cumming down my throat, spilling a big load. His breath was laborious as his hands caressed my hair back. "Please, ride me."

He whined when his member lost the warmth of my mouth as I shifted my body to position myself on top of him. My left hand was resting against his chest. My other hand, grabbing his still firm member. "May I?" He nodded his head. As soon as he was filling me up, both of us became a moaning mess. "Ah, I felt so empty without your dick inside me."

His hands instantly clutched my hips as he encouraged me to bounce on top him. "You look so ravishing while you bounce on my dick." I moaned, loving his dirty talk. "I could do this every day. I love how your breasts bounce while you are getting stretched by my dick." He gulped. "They have got even bigger after you had our beautiful children." His right hand slapped my ass. "Listen," I ceased my moans as I heard the slapping sounds of our skins. "You are so wet for me, my Lady. Your pussy demands to hold my dick."

Both of my hands were now resting against his chest. "I am going to explode." The hand that was on my ass moved to the front, flicking my clitoris. "You fill me up so good, Sir!"

"I will fill you even more soon." He groaned, sitting down so he could move me closer to my body. Our mouths, touching in an open kiss. "I am going to release my entire load inside you. I am going to impregnate you, my Lady." I moaned. "You want that, right?" His thrusts became sloppier and harder. "You want to get filled and carry another gorgeous baby." I nodded my head. "You are as irresistible while pregnant. The way you cannot keep your hands to yourself. The way your bosom gets even bigger."

"Please, fill me."

No more words needed to be said as our teeth clattered against each other, riding our highs together. My vision got blurry, and my moans louder as I felt all of his huge load filling me up. "Oh, fuck me, my Lady. You take my load so good." The rest was full of kisses and warm under the sheets. His member had softened inside me.

On one of the walls of our chambers, there was a portrait of my younger self. She resembled grave and upset. Her composture seemed forced, but around her body, there were flames. Sparks that represented the passion she badly wanted to share. The adventures she wanted to live. There was a yellow light, which seemed, to be connected to her heart.

Dylan had described a young lady who aspired to live a passionate life. A young woman whose heart and mind were full of hope.

There was a lovely detail on the portrait. On the wall behind the young girl, there was a mirror, where you could perceive a young Dylan, examining the woman before him with a peculiar shining light on his eyes. The identical light young Y/N had while looking at Dylan O'Brien, the humble painter who shared the 'fictional' love she always wanted to experience.The love they both found and fancied.

Yes, destiny could be changed.

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Those who asked to be tagged. Thank you for showing interest: 

@og-baby-ob14​ - @sweetest-serpent01​ - @tovvaa​ - @jazminebrightxx​ - @sonnydoesrandomshit​ - @badgyal-barbie​ - @trustfundparker​ - @blueraindrops​ 

[cherryhanji]

when you love someone

drabble. day6 young k x reader

this is for the district nine writers' guild writers' room week#12! (confessions + featuring other group members)

genre: pure fluff, college au, best friend to lovers au, female reader

words: 2.4k

warning(s): foul language. (but not too much tho)

alexa's note:

my love for young k and the song when you love someone is overflowing i need to make this drabble. (It's rlly a good thing the guild made this idea for writer's room) If you haven't listen to this song or the band itself, pls give it a try! All their songs are great and relatable uwu

•••

"You busy again?" you tried to peek at what your friend's writing in his notebook where he writes most of his own lyrics, one that you're dying to read since last week.

"Yeah, I need to finish this soon, so go away." You pouted and glared at Younghyun while he turn his attention back to his notebook.

"Seriously, Younghyun, I know that it isn't even for a certain subject. Why you won't let me see it?" You whined and the pout never left your lips, hoping that Younghyun will give up and let you see what he's writing.

"Yeah I know, but-- Y-you don't need to read it" realizing that he really won't let you take a peek at what he's writing, you just let him much to your chagrin. After all, you never won against him.

"Right, I guess that one's really important, and confidential I think?" You said and grabbed your bag, fishing for your books instead to make yourself busy since your vacant time just started and you're not hungry (yet). But when you heard Younghyun called you after closing his notebook and fixed his bag, your stomach started to grumble.

"Let's eat? My treat." You can't help but to smile and nodded at him, fixing your bag. Of course, who wouldn't say no to food? Take note, you won't spend a dime.

___

You met Dowoon after you eat from the nearby diner. Telling each others' greetings. Dowoon was an Economics major, and he's part of Younghyun's self made band together with Sungjin, Jae and Wonpil.

"Hyung, is it done?" Dowoon asked Younghyun, while you just listened to them, not having any idea with their topic.

"Uh, oh y-yeah. Tomorrow?" Their ambiguity makes you so curious, but you were shy to ask since you were really not that close to Dowoon, so you excused yourself and waited for them to finish, grabbing your phone from your pocket to check the time.

You were a bit shock, well not really because of the time, it is because your birthday is almost next week, but truthfully speaking, it didn't excite you. You're used to being at home or just do normal things on your birthday. Your parents keep on telling you to celebrate but you just tell them you're too lazy to do so. In the end, they don't have any choice but to just visit or send you a birthday cake and greet you. You were fine with that, after all you were not a party person and you know how busy they are.

On the other hand, Younghyun just barges in to your apartment with pizzas, chicken and soda with him. A dinner with unhealthy foods and movie marathon is the best birthday celebrations for you, and also you get to spend your special day with him.

____

"Sorry, I can't walk you home. I have something to do. I'll make it up to you, hm? Really." You nod in response, while Younghyun patted your head. This is the fourth, since last week. You understand that he's busy these past few days, but you can't help but to get a bit peeved. You know you don't have the rights to because you are just his best friend for God's sake, he can do what he damn well please.

"Oh, o-okay. I'll wait for it. And- and don't worry, just take your time. You don't have to be sorry, though. See you then?" He just nod and bid your goodbyes before separating ways.

___

After taking a shower, you plopped yourself down on your bed, planning to scroll on your phone until sleepiness find its way to you. You don't have classes tomorrow, much better for a birthday rest.

You received a message from your mom, tapping the message icon to check it.

from: Mom

What are your plans tomorrow dear? Your turning 21 now.

to: Mom

what else mom? Of course laze around the whole day tomorrow. That's the best gift I'll ever receive from myself after the hell week mom.

from: Mom

Okay then. What else we can do? We know how hardheaded you are.

to: Mom

i luv u mum.

from: Mom

don't wait for me to throw a kiddie party just for you.

to: Mom

not funny mommy

from: Mom

whatever you say girl. just take your rest or do whatever you want. We'll just send a cake bcs we're gone tomorrow, for work. Love you hun. And we missed you. Happy birthday!

to: Mom

thank you mom, i miss and love u too!

After a conversation with your mom, you opened your Instagram just to see posts from everyone. Your hands never stop its duty to scroll.

After a long ass scroll, it stopped on a video posted by Wonpil. A video of Younghyun playing his guitar. You smiled while your eyes were shooting hearts as you watch him play his guitar and humming in to the music. He's so ethereal. No wonder why every girls from your major envied you. You're one hell of a lucky girl, being best friends with someone like Younghyun, the sweet, talented Younghyun. And that is the problem. Being best friends. You never want to be just best friends with him. You like him for so long. But can you blame yourself for thinking that he might not feel the same way? And you can't stomach yourself being rejected. You hate rejections, how immature of you. But isn't it too much if you'll get rejected again? You got rejected so many times already when you confessed. Maybe it's enough. No confessions, no rejections. No harsh feelings, I guess.

___

You were not expecting. You really aren't. But Younghyun should be here at this time now, right? You groaned in exasperation. You really hate yourself with passion. It isn't his duty to go here and bring foods for you, stupid. You keep on convincing yourself that he is busy. But greeting you a Happy Birthday won't eat all of his time, right?

Woah, you are indeed a hopeless case now.

It's almost 7 in the evening, and you were just lazily sitting on your couch, your eyes glued on the television, but you weren't focused on what you were watching. You don't even have an idea on what's the title of the movie. You jumped when you heard your phone ring, your mind automatically registering Younghyun's name. You smiled like an idiot as you tapped the icon open. But your smile disappeared as soon as you read the message.

from: Younghyun

Where are you?

Not even a happy birthday? Wow, what an amazing friend.

to: Younghyun

apartment. why?

from: Younghyun

Can you come over? I'll send you the address.

You don't even get the chance to ask him why when you received the address. It seems so urgent, but what does it have to do with you? You checked the address and it isn't somewhere near his apartment. You just shrugged and decided to change your clothes to a decent shirt and pants, with your shabby pair of sneakers. You really need to buy new ones now.

You hailed for a cab and gave the driver the address. A half an hour of travel and you finally arrived at the place. At first, you hesitated because the driver stopped at a fine looking diner, where your attire seems off from everyone who walks inside. But the driver says that the location was right. So you apologized and gave your payment, thanking the driver before hopping out of the car. Why will Younghyun gave you this address? You grabbed your phone from your pouch and typed a message for him.

to: Younghyun

Why did you gave me this address?

You tapped your feet against the floor while waiting for him to reply. You immediately opened the message as soon as you felt the buzz.

from: Younghyun

go inside. and by the entrance, you'll see a hallway leading to the garden. go there.

to: Younghyun

Seriously Younghyun?? I'll go inside looking like a shit? bet they won't let me in!

from: Younghyun

Just go inside. They don't really give a damn.

You just groaned and put your phone inside. You faced the mirror from the diner and fixed your hair and everything to make yourself at least presentable. You just wish that they won't look at your shoes. Your oh so good looking shoes. God damn it.

"Good evening Ma'am. Welcome to Haven Diner. A seat for two, Ma'am?" A sheepish smiled crept up on your face as the lady attendant asked you.

"Uhm... Actually I have a friend here. And he said that I need to go to that hallway heading to the garden." The lady gasped and nodded enthusiastically.

"Oh, yes, yes. Please take that way, Ma'am. It'll lead you to the diner's garden." You mouthed thanks to her before heading to the said hallway. You don't know why you feel iffy about this situation. But you decided to brush it off since you don't want to have false hopes. Maybe his band have a gig and unfortunately he called you for some errands.

And you weren't wrong. The instruments are there. But what's confusing is no other people from the five boys. You turn your head to Younghyun, together with his bandmates.

"What-"

Younghyun smiled at you, and he seems so edgy.

"Just, just stay there and watch. Okay?" You just nodded slowly, the situation is still not sinking in to you. Dowoon started by beating the drums, before Jae started to sing.

It was a really hard day today

My heart aches for you

The only thing I can do for you

Is to be next to you, I’m sorry

While Jae was singing, your eyes never left Younghyun. He looks so nervous a while ago, but it seems like it all went away when he started playing his guitar. You feel like he took your breath away especially when he started singing.

You’re so pretty when you smile

So every time you lose that smile

Even if I have to give my all

I want to give it back to you

It's like he's talking to you, his eyes were sparkling as he sings, your heart never stay calmed when he looks directly at you.

I want to cry for you

I want to hurt instead of you

I don’t want any scars in your heart

Ever again

When you love someone

So much that it overflows

It’s so amazing

Because this is how it is

Younghyun sang once again, and this time, he is smiling, and your lips instantly form into a smile, too.

This is a song for you

I'm singing for you

I'll give you my everything

You clapped after their song ended, your face will almost rip at how wide your smile was. And the beatings of your heart is still not in normal state. Can you? After Younghyun sang for you? It's not that you never saw him sing with his band, but this one feels utterly different from all his gigs that you attended. It's like this one is especially for you. For you only.

"What was that for?" You can't think of anything to say when Younghyun went near you, so you asked the first thing that came to your mind. Your heart skipped a beat when he hold your hand. His hand was so cold, telling how nervous he is.

"happy birthday, Y/N. and--" he stopped mid-sentence when you hugged him.

"You're so annoying! You- you don't have to do that, you know. But really, thank you. That was so beautiful. I really liked it." You said, and squeezed him more you can already feel how his heart beat so fast.

"I-I'm glad you liked it. But I still have something to tell you." You hummed and pull away from the hug, he sighed as you cock your head, encouraging him to continue.

"I... I like you Y/N." Your eyes flutter as you register what he said. It feels like you're in a dream. This feels so surreal.

"A-are you serious?" You know how much he hates lying. But you just can't believe that this thing was happening. You don't think you deserve any of this.

"Yeah. I won't lie about it Y/N. You know how I hate lying to people. And I don't want to hurt you. I just want to see you smile. I just want to see you happy. Just like the message of the song. The song's for you. That's my gift." You pouted as you try to stop your tears from falling , but it is to no help because it automatically fell. You can hear the sincerity in his voice. Telling that he isn't really joking around. Younghyun just smiled and hugged you once again, rocking your body side by side.

"I hate you" you mumbled while smacking his arms lightly making him chuckle.

"Why tho?"

"Because I like you too, you silly." You told him making him gasp in shock.

"Did you just confessed to me?" He said making you frown. Now he's joking around.

"You confessed first." You remarked and rolled your eyes. Wiping the tear stains away from your face.

"So what are we now?" You asked even if you already know the answer. You just want him to hear from him.

"We're dating. I can see you want to hear it from me." He said and pinched your cheeks. But the grumble from your stomach made Younghyun bursts into laughter. That's surely a mood killer.

"Come on, you need to eat. The celebrant needs to eat." Younghyun said and grabbed your hand, pulling you to sit on the chair. Your eyes wander around to see if the boys are still there.

"But where are the others? I thought they're going to join us?" You said as you wait for the waiter to come.

"They're already stuffing their mouths with tons of food. Don't mind them. This is our time, okay?" He said and winked making your heart jump out.

"Whatever you say, Kang Younghyun."

___

this got me like iiiichk omg i hoped you like it! i really enjoyed writing this one🖤

[raineydaywrites]

working on from then til now (part 3 of 5)

link to part 1 (x), part 2 (x), ao3 (x)

As more and more days passed with no sign that Angus had said anything to the Director about what Taako had told him, he started to relax a little, wondering if the kid maybe had chosen not to say anything at all.

Taako didn't understand that, but he wasn't going to question it when that might prompt Angus to reconsider. Maybe the kid had decided not to break up the Reclaimer team. Sure, Magnus and Merle could get the relics too, but the three of them worked well together and all, so it might be too much of a pain to replace him now.

Maybe the kid even decided to spare him because he liked Taako? He'd asked for more magic lessons after the first, and Taako had agreed, because he was still bored, and that first magic lesson had proven surprisingly fun, and Angus had talent. He was hard on himself, but Taako knew how to pick up on genuine talent when he saw it.

He really hoped it was one of those first explanations, and not the one that sometimes snuck into his mind late at night, when the worst thoughts always arrived.

He really hoped that Angus wasn't scared of him. He might be. Had a right to be. Taako had killed a lot of people, and he was a powerful fucking wizard, and he'd even threatened him- jokingly- about what he'd do if Angus ever surpassed him in wizardly talents.

Not to mention the fact that his Umbra Staff had randomly blasted Ango's macarons with fire for no apparent reason. Angus seemed to believe Taako when he said that the Staff had been acting on its own- but what if he didn't?

It was an irrational fear. Angus wouldn't have asked for more magic lessons if he was afraid of him. He'd just avoid him, right?

But irrationality never stopped anxious thoughts from plaguing anybody.

-

Angus didn't know what to do. He liked Taako. He enjoyed spending time with him, and he was really happy that Taako had agreed to keep teaching him magic.

He wanted it to be as simple as that.

But he couldn't forget who Taako was. He couldn't stop thinking that it was a betrayal to his parents to like their killer so much.

He couldn't stop thinking of Taako fondly.

The more time he spent with Taako, the weirder he felt about all of it. The more he found himself loving Taako. The more he found himself hating himself for the betrayal.

He needed to confront Taako, but instead he was befriending him. What was he thinking?

As he let his thoughts stew, he was embarrassed to realize that the Director was speaking to him. Probably had been for a bit, judging by the tone of her voice when she said his name.

"Angus?"

"I- I'm so sorry, ma'am, I got distracted. Could you repeat that?" Angus said, blushing.

"I was asking if you're okay, Angus," the Director said, brows furrowed together in concern as she watched him.

"Yes, ma'am, I'm fine!" Angus said.

"Really?" The Director did not seem to believe that at all.

"Well- no- I mean- I'm having a personal issue. But it won't interfere with my work, I promise!" Angus assured.

"I'm sorry to hear that. Is there anything I can do to help?" the Director said, and she hesitated before sitting down next to Angus on the little bench he'd been on for- he wasn't sure how long.

"Not really," Angus sighed. He wished that she could. It would be so nice if he could tell her everything and have her present a neat solution, but it couldn't happen.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked.

Angus did. But if he told her, then it would only make things more complicated. If he told her, then she'd have to decide if Taako's abilities outweighed the fact that he'd been responsible for such a tragedy as the Glamour Springs disaster. She was a really good person, and Angus didn't think that such a decision would weigh easy on her mind. He didn't want to make things harder for her.

Maybe he'd tell her, if he thought she could actually fix everything, but he didn't. He was having a conflict of emotions and morals, and he had to figure it out for himself. No one else could do it for him.

Besides which, it felt like a betrayal to Taako to share something like that, that Taako had shared with him in confidence. He didn't want to get Taako in trouble when he still hadn't even figured out how he felt about all of this.

"I don't think- that I can. It's not my story to tell," Angus said, finally.

"I understand," the Director said. "But if you ever need to talk, please know that I will listen."

She stood then, but didn't walk away quite yet.

"But I urge you to talk to someone about it. Perhaps the individual whose story it is. It's important to communicate about your struggles. Sometimes you can't, I know," she said, and her voice took on a very sad, longing tone, and Angus wondered again what her life had been like before this. "But- through all the difficulties I've had, I've found that it's better when you have people at your side. There will always be problems that you cannot be open about, but that makes it all the more important to be open when you can."

There was a sincerity and a weight to her voice that made Angus want to listen to her advice.

"Thank you ma'am. I'll- see what I can do," Angus offered, giving a bright smile to thank her for her words. She so clearly meant them, and it meant a lot to Angus that she wanted to help.

"Good. I hope that your issue eases up soon. You deserve- I only want what's best for everyone," she smiled back at him, and Angus found himself feeling a little lighter.

She was right, much as he hated the thought of airing out everything.

He would never get past this if he didn't communicate about it.

He had to speak with Taako.

-

When Angus had asked to speak in private, Taako had immediately gone tense. This could only be about one thing.

He'd hoped that Angus wouldn't feel the need to talk about the situation ever again. It wasn't exactly something that Taako liked to relive.

But what was he supposed to do? The kid deserved to be heard out. He deserved to deal with the kid's reaction. And anyway, Angus had a sword hanging over Taako's head in the form of knowing Taako's biggest secret.

Taako didn't think that Angus wanted to blackmail him, but he also knew that Angus could and would under the right circumstances.

So he agreed, and found himself in Angus' dorm room, waiting for judgement.

Angus' room was kind of adorable, Taako hated to admit. It was small, and his bed had a bunk that no one used- the moon base had a limited amount of real estate, and clearly the Director had struggled with finding a space that was appropriate for a kid to live in. Angus needed his own room since he was, like, a child and couldn't bunk with an adult stranger, but the single bed rooms were mostly suites, with kitchens and sometimes other bedrooms, which Angus didn't need.

Kid had limited cooking experience, as evidenced by the sugar-less macarons, and he was too short for adult-human sized appliances and too tall for a gnome or dwarf sized kitchen to be very comfortable either.

It looked like she'd settled on taking a bunkbed out of one of the initiate-type dorm rooms, leaving Angus with a little more space and privacy. There was a desk against one wall, and Taako wasn't surprised to see that it was very neat, but the little stuffed toys lining the back of it were a cute surprise. They were clearly decorative, and Taako was sure that the kid would rather be caught dead than playing with them, but it was adorable anyway.

He had a bookshelf, half lined with colorful kids' chapter books, mostly Caleb Cleveland novels, and half with thick tomes in dark colors.

Taako tried to keep the grin on his face from becoming too soppy. It was cute yeah, but he was a stone-cold motherfucker, and he wouldn't be caught turning into mush over a dumb kid.

"So, what's up bubeleh?" Taako asked, dropping into the chair at the desk and leaning it back on two legs, trying to keep it casual.

"I need to talk to you about what happened at Glamour Springs," Angus said, his face drawn and serious.

Taako stopped rocking the chair, but didn't look over at Angus. So that confirmed that Angus knew everything. Must have done his research if he now knew where it had gone down.

"Shoot," Taako said.

"You killed forty people at Glamour Springs because you made a mistake with magic you weren't familiar with," Angus said.

Taako winced at the words like they were a physical blow, but they were certainly true.

Angus paused, but Taako didn't know what to say. What was there to say? He couldn't justify it any more than he already had.

"Two of them were Sam and Dianne McDonald," Angus said, voice wavering and thick. "My parents."

Taako felt his blood go cold and his mind go dark. No. Fuck. Gods, what had he done?

It had been a long time since Taako let himself think of his victims. He tried to avoid it most of the time. But here was a reminder, standing right in front of him, tears in his eyes. He found his mind casting back to that horrible moment all over again, trying to visualize them. Trying to pick them out from the crowd.

But he'd spent so long trying to forget that day, the crowd had just turned into a blur of horrified faces and dying people.

He'd always felt so bad about them that he'd rarely had much guilt to spare for the other victims- the families of everyone he'd killed. The parents and sibling and friends- the children that he had orphaned.

Whatever happened now, he wouldn't protest. His past had finally caught up to him, and he had no right to avoid it.

"Aren't you going to say anything?" Angus said, and his voice cracked, and Taako felt a stabbing pain in his chest over it.

"What can I say?" Taako asked, and it was a genuine question. He wanted to say something that would help, but no words would undo what he'd done. "I'm sorry, Angus. I'm so fucking sorry."

Angus just sobbed at that. Taako always hated it when people cried, but he still found himself wanting to comfort the kid. He wanted to hug him and soothe him, which was a big difference from his usual tactic of running from emotions as fast as possible. But would his comfort even be welcome?

"I know you're sorry," Angus finally mumbled.

He brought up his hands to scrub tears from his eyes, pushing his glasses roughly out of the way in the process. He looked so little. He'd been even littler when he'd lost his parents.

Taako had expected anger if he ever met someone who loved any of his victims. Who wouldn't be angry at something like that?

But this was worse. It was so much worse than anger ever could have been. It broke his heart. He hated seeing Angus like this. He just wanted to make it better.

"Babe, come here," Taako said, reaching for Angus. It was instinctive, an offer without any conscious thought behind it. He wasn't good at comfort, but it seemed that his subconscious at least had some idea of how to do it.

He didn't expect Angus to listen. He hadn't expected the kid to immediately dart into his arms and start to cry into his shirt. He let it happen anyway. This was the least he could do after what he'd taken from the kid.

He held Angus close as the kid cried, offering soft comforting noises intermittently, feeling more helpless than he could remember ever feeling before.

Angus managed to cry himself into a state of exhaustion, and fell asleep right there in Taako's lap. Taako had never felt so guilty as he did then, realizing that the kid trusted him anyway. Realizing that he valued the kid's trust. Realizing that he never would have met this kid if he hadn't messed up so bad at Glamour Springs.

How dare he gain any happiness from that? It was selfish to be happy to have Angus in his life when it came at the cost of Angus losing his parents, and his parents and so many others losing their lives. He had no right to love Angus, let alone to be loved back.

Taako had long ago accepted that he was a selfish person, but this went so far beyond that. He couldn't seem to stop it though. And what was he supposed to do? Leave the kid to grieve alone, avoid facing responsibility for what he'd done? Surely that was worse.

Taako picked Angus up, gently, settling him onto the bed. He took off the kid's shoes and his glasses, setting them by the side of the bed for when Angus woke.

He didn't notice his own tears until one fell onto Angus' face as he was pulling the blanket over him, and then, having noticed, it was all he could do to keep his crying silent so as to not wake Angus.

He couldn't walk back to his room like this. He probably shouldn't leave Angus alone either.

Taako sat down on the wall farthest from Angus' bed, and clapped a hand over his mouth to hold back the urge to sob.

part 4 (x), part 5 (x)

[crashdevlin]

Succubus 1- Caught

Succubus Masterlist

Author’s Note:  Posted to Ao3 (this is an edited and improved version) and was once posted here when I was a much smaller blog…and I got some shit for the content. So heed the warnings!

Summary: When Y/n goes looking for something in Stark Tower, she finds more than she bargained for.

Pairing(s): Tony Stark x Reader, Clint Barton x Reader 

Word count: 4556

Story Warnings:  18+! HERE BE SEX!! DON’T READ IF YOU’RE A YOUNG’UN!!!, unprotected sex, cheating, sex-pollen-esque powers, mutant reader, noncon, forced cheating, oral (fem rec), mentions of noncon of an underage girl by men in power (teachers, policemen, doctors, priests)

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

You walk past the line and straight up to the bouncer, who takes one look at your tiny tight-fitting dress and stripper-high platform heels and lets you in without a word. You don't even have to use your mutant ability on him. Oh, this night is going to be cake. You snake your way through the gyrating bodies on the dance floor, careful to not use your power on any of the people in the crowd. The passion and lust rolling off of them as they bump and grind against each other is delicious but you don't have time to stop for a snack. You're on a mission and you're here for a meal.

You walk up to the VIP room and smile at the tall, broad-chested man standing at the doorway. He stops you, putting a hand on your bare shoulder. Mistake. "Sorry, ma'am. Mr. Stark requested...privacy." He trails off a bit at the end as your power starts its work on him and his eyes dilate more than the dark of the club requires.

"Oh, I know he's a busy man, but...I'm such a huge fan. The man saved the whole city. He's my hero." You place your hand over his and lean over next to his ear as the bodyguard's breathing grows heavy. "I just really want to show my appreciation."

His fingers fumble with the velvet rope as he lets you into the VIP room, where Tony Stark sits, alone. "Hey, Hap, who's this?" he asks, setting his glass of whiskey on the glass table in front of him.

"I, uh, didn't catch her name." You smile at the man and he flushes deep red before leaving to man the door again.

You sit down next to the billionaire and stare up at him with admiration. "Mr. Stark. I'm a huge fan. My name's Aphrodite." You offer your hand and he takes it. His eyes dilate immediately and he takes a deep breath. His desire is immediate, strong and delicious. You are gonna eat well tonight.

The hand that shook yours moves to your bare knee. He's doing your work for you. "'Aphrodite, huh?"

His desire grows as the skin contact stretches out, the seconds ticking by. "Yeah, my parents were huge Greek mythology nerds," you lie. It's a code name: self-imposed but ever so fitting.

His hand slips up to your thigh. "Well, it suits you; 'cause you are the sexiest thing I've ever seen, and I work with a woman who uses sex as a weapon."

You take a steadying breath. Damn, his passion is potent. "Thank you, Mr. Stark."

"Call me 'Tony'. Seriously, though, this dress leaves nothing to the imagination and I can't stop imagining it in a puddle on my floor." His hand reaches the hem of the dress and his fingers push under the tight silver material, pushing it up to your hip as his hand finds what it is searching for.

You moan and swallow thickly as his fingers trace your lips through your lace thong panties. "I heard you were a forward man, Tony, but I never imagined..." You moan as he moves the lace barrier aside and sinks his middle finger into you, down to the knuckle. It's over. Nothing can stop it, now. He begins fucking you with his expert fingers, using the heel of his palm to rub against your clit. It's always nice when they know what they're doing and goddamn if Tony Stark isn't a damn pro. You reach over and rub his erection through his designer jeans, your fingers tracing his hardness through the thick denim. Oh, this is going to be a treat. No wonder the man's so damn cocky.

"You ever been fucked by a billionaire?" he whispers in your ear, before leaning down to lick at your neck.

"I get the feeling I'm about to," you whisper through your moans as he adds a second finger and picks up the speed.

"Yeah, we're gonna mark that off your bucket list," he grunts, going to undo his pants. You put your hand on his to stop him.

"Not here. I wanna see the top of the city. Take me to the Tower?" you beg, breathlessly.

He growled, low in his chest. "I've always wanted to fuck someone on the balcony. Pepper has never gone for it. You game, Goddess?" 

"Oh, hell yeah." You bite your lip as he pulls his hand away.

"Let's go. Hap, grab the car!" he shouts, pulling you up and giving you a minute to fix your dress before pulling you out of the VIP. The look on Happy Hogan's face, when Tony opens the car door and pushes you in before taking the wheel from the bodyguard and speeding away from him, is pure judgement. His desire has worn thin and now, he's judging Tony for acting on it. He must be friends with Ms. Potts.

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

Tony has your dress and thong bunched at your feet before you've even stepped off the elevator. You step gracefully out of the shimmery and lacey materials and he guides you backward, his mouth attached to your neck. You should've been a dancer; the way you move backwards and in high heels. You grab Tony's jacket and push it down his arms. He drops it somewhere between the elevator and the wet bar. "Are we alone?" you ask, trying to look around but finding it difficult with Tony's persistent pushing and grabbing at you.

He grunts. "Avengers hiatus. Pepper's in Malibu. Just us."

You smile. "Perfect." You break away from him and grab at the waistband of his jeans, popping the button and pulling them and his red silk boxers down as he kicks his shoes off. He pulls his shirt over his head and steps out of his pants as you bend down in front of him. You grasp him at the base of his cock, your fingers nestling nicely in his well-groomed pubes, and guide him into your mouth. His hands grasp at your hair as you begin to bob your head up and down his length, your tongue swirling around the head and flicking at the frenulum. He pulls you up by your hair and shoves his tongue in your mouth, smashing his lips into yours.

"I have to have you. Now." He pushes you toward the balcony and you stumble a little on your heels before following him out onto the biggest balcony you've ever seen. He pushes you onto a chaise and is almost immediately between your legs, sucking your clit into his mouth and licking at it harshly. His beard rubs against your sensitive lips and adds something wonderful to the feeling.

"Fuck," you moan, one hand grabbing the armrest of the chaise and the other going into his hair.

"Yes." His desire is at its peak when he responds, pulling away and climbing up your body. There's no fanfare, no hesitation, as he spreads your legs further and enters you to the hilt with one thrust. You grab onto him as he starts to pound into you. He feels amazing, he tastes amazing, his desire almost more fulfilling than his dick. He pushes your knees up into your chest, never breaking his stride as he grabs each of your breasts and shifts his weight. You scream out as his new angle hits your g-spot with each swing of his hips. "Feel like a goddess, too. So...fuckin'...fuck," he grunts out.

He cums hard, breathing heavily. You can feel his dick twitch inside of you as he spills himself onto your inner walls. His hand goes to his head and he clenches his eyes in pain and then he passes out, slumping on top of you, soft dick still inside of you. You sigh and push him off of you. He crumples unceremoniously to the ground beside the chaise as you stretch your neck and shoulders. You look down at him. You were hoping he'd get you off before he went, but that was rare. It takes a special kind of man to hold himself back against your pheromones long enough to give you an orgasm and no Homo Sapien has managed it. Oh, well, his desire had been yummy.

You stand and walk inside, getting in the elevator and redressing yourself. You hum amelodically as you tap the button for the laboratory and the elevator doors close. You step off the elevator and dance around the lab until you come to a computer. You pull the earring off of your right ear and pull the cap off of a concealed USB drive. You plug it into the computer and no more than ten seconds pass before everything goes dark.

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

You wake up in a sitting position, your head hanging. You can tell that you are restrained to a chair. You don't open your eyes, allowing yourself to gain as much information from your other senses before you let on that you're awake.

"I don't know, Barton. She said her name was 'Aphrodite', but if that's a codename, it's not in any of the databases that I have access to, which is all of them." Tony's voice is coming from your left. 'Barton', that's gotta be Clint Barton. Hawkeye.

"She doesn't look familiar...or particularly hot. Not hot enough to fuck around on Pepper, I mean."

"She hit me with some kind of whammy. I said this." Tony's voice is annoyed. Aww, poor billionaire philanthropist is feeling guilty.

"Well, what is she? Cat burglar, super spy?"

"I don't know. She fucked me up, then went up to the lab, but JARVIS saw her and sent a legionnaire to knock her out."

You can't help the giggle that escapes you as your eyes open. You're sitting in the middle of a small room, zip-tied to a chair, in front of Tony Stark (wearing his repulsor gloves but none of his other Iron Man accouterments) and Clint Barton, wearing civvies with a bow slung over his shoulder. Clint shakes his head in confusion. "You get caught red-handed stealing information from the Avengers and you giggle?"

You smile. "I'm sorry. Is that not the proper response to being caught? It's never happened to me before."

"What are you?" Tony asks as Clint asks, "Who are you?"

You just smile up at them. They'll know in a few minutes. Tony scoffs. "That's fine. I got a sample of your blood while you were out. I'll know both of those answers once the results run."

"I've never been caught before. You think my DNA is gonna be on file somewhere? Especially if my name's not written down anywhere."

"Master Stark, her temperature has risen by 7.4 degrees Fahrenheit in the last two minutes," a disembodied voice with a proper accent says.

"That must be the infamous JARVIS. Forgot about you." You look up at the ceiling.

"What are you doing with a temp of a hundred and six?" Tony asks, tapping at his tablet.

"You'll see. In three. Two. One. Boom," you say. Tony and Clint sway suddenly, their heads swimming from your pheromone attack. Tony goes down, passing out from the overload, but Clint stays standing. He looks at you with a beautiful mix of lust and anger, because he knows but he can't get past the way you've made him feel. "How are you still standing?" you ask, staring up at him.

"Top physical conditioning," he answers, groaning.

"Oh," you breathe the word, enamored. "That's never happened before."

He growls. He pulls his bow off of his back and tries to draw it, an arrow somehow nocked on the string when you never saw his hand go near the quiver. His fingers fumble for a minute, but he eventually pulls the bow taut. "If I kill you, does it stop?" he growls again and it's sexy despite the loaded weapon in your face.

"I don't know. I've never been killed before," you answer, simply. His desire is spiking, he smells amazing, a normal man would be panting with that level of desire, but...Clint Barton takes deep, measured, breaths. 

"If I fuck you, does it-"

"Yes," you answer, quickly. You aren't hungry, but...damn, he looks gourmet. 

He quickly shifts his aim, letting the arrow loose toward the metal ceiling tile above your head, where it ricochets, cutting the wire restraining you. You don't have time to rub your sore wrists before he's grabbed you and pulled you out of the chair. He kisses you, but it isn't teeth and tongue like Tony's kiss. He sucks your bottom lip into his mouth and nibbles on it, lightly. His hands grasp at your dress, slowly bringing it up. How is he going so slow? 

"Master Barton, I have dispatched an Iron legionnaire to assist you," the AI butts in. 

"Fuck!" 

"Sorry, Bird-Boy. That's my cue," you whisper, pulling back and punching him. He doesn't go down, so you quickly grab the chair and bash him with the metal back. He crumbles next to Tony and you pull your dress back down as exit the room and run for the elevator. 

***********

"So, you failed." 

"No, sir. I don't fail. I just haven't succeeded yet. I'll get it. I just didn't count on the AI being so autonomous. I'll get it," you repeat, standing in front of a desk.

"I sent you because you have never failed me before, but if you can't get me those files, I will change tactics, Y/n."

"Erik, please. Don't write me off. I can do this. I just need a few days to recharge and rework the plan."

"You have one week, Y/n. If you haven't succeeded by then, I will send in Mystique." Magneto waves you away from his desk and you exit his office. You flop down on a couch in the sitting room as you pull long gloves up your arms.

"So, you struck out," the blue-skinned beauty teases as she sits next to you.

"Shut up, Raven," you groan.

"Aww. Don't get all upset. How was the Iron Man?"

"He was fine...for a human. It was that damn JARVIS program that got me." You sigh deeply, leaning your head against the back of the couch. "Who knew an AI could recognize a thief and send a robot to knock me out?"

"Damn. You got into the Tower and everything?"

"I got into the lab. I was so close. Now, I have to figure out how to get in there again. Can't go the normal route."

"Why don't you just release your little pheromones into the Tower, let them all play with you until the headache kicks in, then hold Stark off until he turns off the damn computer system?"

"It may work, may not. I might not even be able to make it near any of them. I don't even know. Either way, I have to take a day or two. I almost completely blew my load getting out of that building."

"Poor baby."

"Yeah, fuck you, Gonzo." You stand, pushing past the blue woman to head to your room. It was hard to think about the fact that Erik dismissed you so callously. It was almost like he only wanted you around when you were fucking men for him.

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

You climb up several sets of fire escapes to the roof of a building in Bedford-Stuyvesant, New York, New York. Clint Barton stands on the opposite side of the roof, a beer in his hand as he stares out across the city lights. "You know, usually when I hit a guy with my power, he can't stop thinking about me." Clint turns to you, dropping his beer on the ledge and putting his fists up in a fighting stance. You put your gloved hands up in a nonthreatening manner. "Oh, whoa. I'm suited up. I couldn't affect you from here if I wanted to."

He drags his eyes over you. The only skin he can see is what's visible around the mask over your mouth. Everything else is covered in a purple, pink and black suit. Your hair is pulled back in a tight bun. "Okay, well...keep your distance still."

"Understandable," you respond, smiling under your mask. "I just wanted to apologize. I was just following orders. You understand that whole following orders thing, right?"

"Stark said you're a Mutant. You aren't an X-man, are you? 'Cause that'd be awkward at the next Hero Convention."

You scoff. "No. Unfortunately for me, I wasn't one of the lucky ones who was saved from the street by Saint Charles. My savior was a man of a different faith."

"So, you're Brotherhood; one of Magneto's." He doesn't ask. He knows exactly who you're referencing.

"Erik saved my life. If he hadn't found me, I'd've died homeless in Miami. He took me in, nourished and nurtured me; taught me about myself. I owe him everything."

"How'd you end up homeless?" He's relaxed a bit, taking a drink of the beer as he leans up against the ledge.

You hop up to sit on the ledge on the other side of the roof. "Imagine you're a thirteen year old girl, a virgin, and you wake up one morning and suddenly, every man who touches you thinks you are the sexiest and most desirable woman they've ever seen. Including three teachers at your middle school..." You put up three fingers. "... the doctor who was supposed to be treating you and gathering evidence of that first gang rape and two cops who came to investigate the occurrences." You flash three more fingers, then clear your throat. "Imagine your parents are hardcore Catholics who decide you have a demon in you that's causing the attacks so they send you to the priest who performed your confirmation who employs the help of three other parish priests. When they wake up and realize what they've done, two of them commit suicide right in the church." You shake your head. "I ran after that. My parents never looked for me. In fact, I heard they...held a funeral for me, buried an empty box."

Clint's eyes are searching you, trying to not show you pity but also making certain you're telling the truth. "I lived on the streets for a year and a half," you continue. "I kept gloves and long sleeves and jackets on, even in the summer in fuckin' Miami, because I was terrified of being touched. But it's not just my skin. It's in my breath. It wafts off of my hair with the slightest breeze. I learned that in the shelters. I ended up having to stay apart even from the other homeless. I have no idea how Erik found me, but he did. He walked up to me in the back of a back alley in the absolute worst part of Opa Locka and told me to come with him. He told me I was Homo Superior and that he could help me control it, that I could live a real life again. It was a dream come true.

"I owe him everything, Hawkeye. I owe him and that's why I went to the Tower, because the man I adore asked me to. But I can't do it anymore. I've been...forced into...prostitution." You look down at your boots. "Erik sending me to use my ability against Tony, using me to get into that lab and gain access to that computer...I don't even know what I was looking for, but he raped me when he sent me there. I let him force me to do something I didn't want to do, but..."

"So, you're here to...what?"

"Turn myself in," you answer.

"Really?"

"I was raped by Erik, and I...forced...I raped Tony, so I deserve...whatever the Avengers think I deserve."

"Yeah, uh, don't...say that to his face." Clint sets the beer on the ledge again and walks closer to you. "If Stark hears you call it 'rape', he'll blow a gasket. He's calling it a 'forced lapse of judgement'. Look, I can take you in, I will take you in, but I'm gonna have to call in some, uh, female help. Not that I don't trust you but I don't trust you." He pulls out his phone and taps the screen. "Hey, Katie. Uh, Kate. I need an escort. Yeah, not for me, thanks. I need a chick to come take this Mutant to the Tower. 'Cause she's a Mutant and her shit won't affect you. I don't wanna get into it. Will you come Hawkeye it up for me, please? Thank you." He pulls the phone away from his ear and smiles tightly. "Now, I have to call Tony."

You nod. He puts the phone to his ear and looks away from you. "Hey, uh...so that chick you're looking for? I know where she is. Here. In Bed-Stuy. She's turning herself in. Uh, probably because she knew you and JARVIS would zap her on the approach and that my building's only security is me and Lucky? No need, man. Kate's on the way. You don't need to send a Legionnaire. Because I already called Kate. Let her do a thing, Tony. Seriously. Thank you. Kate and I will have Aphrodite to you in thirty minutes or less. Yeah. Or your Mutant's free."

Clint pulls the phone away and looks down at it. "He hung up. I thought it was funny," he mutters before turning to you. "So...what's your name?"

You contemplate for a moment before responding, "Y/n. 'Aphrodite' is my codename."

"Well, duh. You pick that out or did Magneto?"

"I did, but Erik solidified it." Your mind drifts to Erik with his hand in your hair, fucking you from behind and grunting out 'My Aphrodite' with every thrust.

"How's he gonna take you defecting?"

"I'm not defecting."

"You're turning yourself in to the good guys. You obviously recognize Magneto was wrong and-"

"I'm done letting him use me, that doesn't mean Erik's wrong or that I think he's a...bad guy." You shake your head. "I know he's right about you Homo Sapiens. The things you do to my kind-"

"Come on. You Mutants aren't that different than us!"

"Tell that to the government who demanded we register, who built giant murder-bots to eradicate us, who've made certain that our fellow Americans are kept in constant fear of us."

"That's not unique to you Homo Superiors, Y/n. We do that shit to each other, too."

"And it's a blight on history when you do, but not for us. Not for Mutants. It's cheered when you round us up, when a child who doesn't know how to control themselves gets thrown in prison for a display of power they had no hope of stopping. You don't know what it's like to-"

"Should I come back?" a female voice asks as the door to the roof opens.

"No." Clint answers. "Kate, this is Y/n. Let's go."

"So, what's your power?"

"Kate." Clint's voice is almost a warning as the three of you start down the stairs.

"I'm just curious!" the young woman defends. "Is it rude to ask? Is that a Mutant faux pas?"

"I release pheromones that make me pretty much irresistible to men," you answer.

"But if they do sleep with her, they pass out," Clint continues.

"Yeah, that's called Postcoital Cephalalgia. It's from the rush of pheromones and hormones...little bit from the exertion."

"Wait, so you make guys orgasm so hard they pass out?" Kate asks, less like she's confused and more like she's impressed.

You smirk under your mask. "Pretty much."

"That's gotta suck," Clint mutters under his breath a little further up the stairs. "How do you ever finish?"

"I don't usually, Barton. Unless I'm with a well-trained Mutant who knows how to control himself."

"What, you don't affect Mutants the same way?" Kate asks.

"No, I do. I hit the Wolverine once and that was...painful. That one likes it rough. But he's used to overexerting himself and he's got that healing factor so he went the distance."

"Ew, Logan's like a million years old," Clint complains.

"I didn't really have a chance to care about his age. We were in a fight, I had to distract him from Erik and Raven."

"Wow, you are really nonchalant about this, like it's not..." Kate starts as you get to the last set of stairs and she walks through the door at the bottom. 

"It's my life, Hawkeyes. I am the Mutant equivalent of a damn succubus. I literally can't be embarrassed about sex. I feed off of it."

"Really?" Clint exclaims.

"Well, yes and no. I mean, I still need food, but...desire charges my batteries. I get sick without sex."

"That's...would it kill you if you didn't..." Kate trails off as you walk out onto the street and she raises her arm to hail a cab. 

"Longest I've ever gone without sex since I was thirteen years old was a month and that...I ended up in the hospital. The doctors fixed me right up."

Kate drops her arm and turns to you. "Thirteen?"

You shrug. "What age did you start puberty, Miss Bishop, 'cause that's when Mutants develop their powers?"

"But that's so young."

You chuckle as a cab pulls up. "You're so pure."

"What? No, I'm not!" she squeaks.

The cab ride is full of awkward silence and the driver looking at you in the mirror, confused as to why a purple ninja is in his backseat. When he pulls up to Avengers Tower, you hand him a twenty and get out. You position yourself behind Kate, obscuring his view of her until he pulls away. Clint notices, raising a confused eyebrow. "He was checking her out. His desire was...dark. It didn't taste good," you answer, walking through the rotating door into the lobby.

Tony Stark is upon you before you've made it ten feet into the building. Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, and the Vision are flanking him. "Wow, she doesn't even look like the same woman," Tony says, maybe just to himself.

"Maybe that's because she's fully clothed," Natasha quips, her lips twisting into a smirk.

"Good job, Barton," Steve says, stepping forward.

"I wouldn't get too close," Tony warns.

"She's kinda...turned off," Clint says, nodding at you. "As long as you don't touch her skin, or like, sniff her hair or something."

"Why would we do that?" Tony snaps.

"What are you going to do to her?" Kate asks.

"Why do you care?" Natasha asks.

"Well, I mean...she's...it's not her fault that she's like this."

"It was her decision to come into my club and mess with me in order to get into my lab," Tony snaps. 

You put your hands up. "Don't worry about me, Hawkeye. I made my choices." You drop to your knees and put your hands on your head. 

"Vision. Go ahead," Tony demands and the android flies forward, placing a set of cuffs on your wrists.

"Okay, but what are you-" Clint starts. 

"We'll talk it out later, Legolas," Tony says as Vision picks you up and heads for the elevator.

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

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[sugarbooger513]

Moving on- Chapter Six

Warnings- Smut, cussing, dom/sub dynamic (I would like to point out, this dynamic can be seen in a lot of different ways. Plz don’t come at me), honorifics, mentions of child abuse 

"Do you have any idea who Lilith is going on a date with?" Jasper raises a confused eyebrow at Mic's random question. It certainly isn't something she expected to be brought up while they're grading a few final exams. "Uh, no. I never asked because I assumed it would be you." He shakes his head, his eyes suddenly turning to nothing. "Nah. I'm too old for her. It was a one time thing." "Don't give me that shit, Mic. Why didn't you ask her out?" "Because of the age gap.. and we agreed that the sex had no feelings." Jasper rolls her eyes and passes him an English test. "Uh huh, whatever. She'll tell me when she's ready." "On to happier news, because this is depressing me, have you and Sho had that date yet?" Jasper sighs and gives him a small head shake. "We can't find the time, honestly." Mic groans. "Girl, its been almost three weeks! Has he even kissed you yet?" "Mic," she chuckles, "no, he hasn't. To be fair, I haven't made a move either." "Yeah, but you're a-" "Don't you dare say-" "A bottom." Jasper places her pen down, facing Mic with a glare. "Mic, I have kissed people before." "But not Sho. Trust me, I've seen how he looks at you. Most of the time it's the cute, high school crush look, but when he saw you hug All Might the other day.." Jasper's eyes widen with worry. "Did I make him mad?" "Absolutely not, but it's no secret that him and All Might aren't exactly buddy buddy. Sho is highly.. not protective.. but territorial." She tilts her head, which makes Mic chuckle. "It isn't my business to tell, but Sho prefers a certain dynamic with relationships. I'm sure he'll let you know before the two actually make it official." "Oh.. did he have that dynamic with Joke?" Mic shakes his head. "Joke said he was weird for it, so he respected her decision."   The classroom door opens, and the man they were just talking about walks in, straightening the scarf around his neck. "I'm about to head into the Todoroki and Yaoyorozu's final." Jasper smiles as he searches the drawers of the desk for his eyedrops. "Here, silly." He smiles when Jasper pulls a bottle from her pocket. "I can always count on you, can't I? Thank you." He takes them with a slight blush before pulling something from his other pocket. "I need you to do me a big favor since Mic has to leave, too." "Of course, Sho." "Can you give this to Shinso? I fixed his scarf when he fucked it up in training." "Be nice to him, Sho. I'll make sure he gets it, but I need a hug before you go." He rolls his eyes, but grins when she wraps her arms around his torso. "You can just ask for a hug, Jas." "But you make a funny face when I say it like that." "Shut up. Anyways, tell Shinso that we aren't training today and that he can go home after school." "Oh?" He chuckles and lifts her chin gently with his thumb and index finger. He can practically see her eyes gleam from the small gesture. "You, me, cat cafe. Tonight. I'm taking you on that date I promised." "A-Are you sure? I mean, I can ask my dads to bring me different clothes if-" "Don't. You look beautiful. Just be ready to go once school ends. Come on, Mic." "Right behind ya, Romeo." Aizawa takes a second to press his nose to Jasper's affectionately before he turns and leaves the classroom. She stands alone for a second, her heart racing. How has no one else tried to steal him away? She'll never understand. Still, she shakes her head, leaving to head to the general studies' classrooms. Lucky for her, most of the kids were wandering the halls. When she sees the violet haired boy sitting by himself, she feels a bit bad. So many people ignore him, or are terrified of his quirk. He doesn't make friends easily, but Jasper loves seeing him open up around Aizawa. "Shinso!" The boys bright purple eyes widen at the sound of his name, but he smiles when he sees Jasper waving him over. He stands, almost dropping his drink, and quickly walks towards her. "Hi, Daedalus." She opens her arms and gets a gentle hug from the rather large boy. He was super scrawny before he started his training, but now he's even scarier than before. "I got a present for you." "A-A present?" When she pulls the scarf out, his eyes glow. "He managed to fix it?!" She nods, placing the bundled up cloth in his hands. "I was so scared I screwed it up for good." "Aizawa worked all day on fixing it yesterday." Shinso's eyes fill with worry. "He must be so mad.." "No, hun, he isn't. If he was, he wouldn't give it back." As Shinso places it around his neck, she catches a glance of something on his cheek. When she tilts her head, he pauses. "You okay, ma'am?" "Yeah, but did Aizawa really leave that bruise on your cheek?" Shinso's widened gaze tells her that she wasn't supposed to notice that. "W-what bruise?" "Shinso.. come to my office." He curses in his mind, but follows her without question. The fact he isn't saying anything is slightly concerning. Yeah, he's generally a quiet kid, but she can usually get him to talk to her. He seems to trust her and Aizawa with a lot, and it wouldn't be too bad if Aizawa accidentally left a bruise on his face. He would have no reason to hide it. Once she closes the door, Shinso sits on the sofa, his hands trembling in his lap. "D-Daedalus, it isn't-" "Shinso," she sighs and sits in a chair in front of him, "was it a student? You aren't going to be in trouble, but I can take it to them." He shakes his head, still staring at his lap. She sighs, going over to her oil diffuser. She can feel his eyes on her once she isn't actually looking at him. "Did you know that peppermint oil has a natural calming effect on the brain?" He finally releases a tiny chuckle. "Why are you telling me this?" "Because I'm putting some in the diffuser. I'm also going to make us some peppermint tea." "Daedalus.. I'm okay." "I believe you, Shinso, but I'm not okay letting you leave until you're less stressed." He sighs softly. "How can you-" "Your neck is tense. Aizawa might have told me your body language." "Damn it, Eraserhead.." He covers his mouth the moment the words leave his mouth, but Jasper only laughs. "Go ahead and let it all out. I won't tell him what you say. Milk?" "U-Umm.. please?" Once she finishes making the tea, she passes him a warm cup. He holds it for a minute, relishing in the warmth on his fingertips. Of course, she takes a seat in front of him, a kind smile on her face. His cheeks warm slightly, and he sips at the tea to ignore it. "You wanna tell me about that bruise now?" "I-I.. I can't, Dae-" "Jasper." "Excuse me?" She smiles, the steam from her cup slightly fogging up her glasses. "Just call me Jasper. Just don't let Mr. Aizawa know I said that, okay?" Shinso chuckles slightly. "Yeah, the last time I didn't call you Daedalus in front of him didn't end well." He winces, remembering the many, many push ups and sit ups he was forced to do that day. A few included his mentor sitting on his back, and he's heavier than he looks. Jasper places the cup down with a sigh. "I won't force you to tell me Shinso, but I am concerned.. and I have to report it." "D-Don't! Please!" He suddenly drops the cup, shattering it. Jasper's first instinct is to jump up and reach for the towels above her desk, but then she sees it. When her hand raises for the towels, Shinso cowers back, covering his face. The place he covers is almost exactly where the bruise is located. "I-I didn't mean to... I'm sorry.." She lowers her hand, ignoring the fact that tea is still in the floor. "Shinso.. hun I was just grabbing towels.." He opens his eyes slightly, and she tries her best to smile comfortingly at him. "You've.. been through some things, haven't you?" He lowers his arms, but he's even more tense than he was before. "I.. I'm okay." "Hitoshi." He whimpers from her using his first name so nicely. Usually, if he hears his first name, he knows he screwed something up. "Jasper," he finally sighs, "I just have issues with my mom and dad. It's nothing to worry about." "Hun, you have bruises from it. It obviously is something to worry-" "Just, please, shut up about it." He regrets his words immediately. She's only trying to help. Still, she chuckles lightly. "You can be mad, Shinso, I don't care. I care about your safety, and Aizawa will, too." His eyes shoot open. "You can't tell him!" "Shinso, how is he going to work through this in training if he doesn't know?" "I've been doing fine without-" "But you'll never become the hero you see yourself as unless you get the help you need, Shinso." Anger flashes in his eyes, and he jumps up. Standing, he's quite a bit bigger than her, but she doesn't back down. Instead, she stands a bit straighter. "I will become a great hero. Don't talk to me like a child." "Shinso, you are a child. Sit down." "No." She chuckles a bit. "Do you think I'm intimidated by your size, Shinso?" He bites the inside of his cheek. Her eyebrow raises, waiting for a response. "I don't care if you are or not. Don't question the hero I'll be. I don't need help with this." She laughs, which makes his fists tighten. "You don't need help, but you want it." "What?" She glances at her door with a smirk. "I never locked you in. You could walk out. You could try to brainwash me, but you aren't. Why?" That makes him relax, for some odd reason. Instead of anger, his eyes fill with tears. She walks over and touches his arm softly. He can't help but wonder if her gentle touch reminds him of a mother. "Sit, Shinso." "Y-yes ma'am.." She grabs a towels finally and starts wiping the mess that was made. "I.. I really didn't mean to break it, Jasper." "I know. Accidents happen." Once it's all cleaned up, Jasper walks calmly to her desk to send an email. The councilor is the one that should handle this. As much as she wants to go beat Shinso's parents herself, she knows better. "Shinso, do you know Ms. Dani?" "Ms.. Dani?" She nods. "She's a councilor here. She usually handles the hero course, but she's going to be the one to help you out." "W-Why can't you?" She frowns and walks back to the obviously scared teenager. "She can get in touch with the right people, but you need to trust her." He whimpers slightly. "I.. I only trust you and Eraser.." She nods, rubbing a gentle hand in his wild hair. "We'll be there as much as we can, okay?" "P-promise..?" She smiles and holds her pinky to him. He wraps his around hers with a smile.   When her door is creaked open, she turns to meet light eyes. "You emailed me, Daedalus?" The councilor is relatively short, just an inch or two taller than Jasper is. Her hair is as red as Kirishima's, also. Jasper smiles and waves for her to come inside. "I did. I could use your expertise." The pale woman blushes ever so slightly. Truth be told, her and Jasper haven't had the time to really talk. They've said a few things to each other in staff meetings. However, she knows that there seems to be something between her and the very stern 1A homeroom teacher. "I hardly call myself an expert, Daedalus." "For the gods' sake, can you please call me Jasper?" Dani blushes even more from the genuine amusement coating Jasper's words. "Of course! I apologize, Jasper." "Ahhh, we'll work on it, won't we? Anyways, this is Shinso. He's a general studies student." "I-I-m trying to get into the Hero course.." Jasper pats his shoulder softly. "He's Eraserhead's apprentice. It has.. come to my attention that he needs someone to help him out of a bad situation." Dani tilts her head, allowing her crimson hair to fall to one side. She's professionally trained to see the most subtle changes in body language, and the fear in Shinso's eyes almost knocks her off of her feet. However, something changes when Jasper looks at him. There seems to be a strong trust between the boy and teacher. He looks to her as a teenager should look at his mother for comfort. Jasper's eyes search his carefully before she reaches for his hand. "If you'll look, he has a bruise on his face." Dani nods and winces at the obvious outline from a large hand. "Where did it come from, Shinso?" He looks at the woman that he's only seen in the hallways once or twice with worry. He doesn't know her, but doesn't Jasper trust her? "My.. My father was angry at me.. it happens if someone brings up my quirk.." Dani nods slowly and looks at Jasper. "I'll take care of him, I promise." "Thank you. He means a lot to Eraserhead, and to me." Dani kneels in front of Shinso, who backs slighlty into the couch. "Hi, Shinso. So, is there anything that will make you more comfortable talking to me?" Before he can answer, Jasper chuckles. "He loves cats. It's something I bring up to get him and Eraserhead to take a break." "J-Jasper! Y-you traitor!" Dani and Jasper laugh at his beet red cheeks. Hearing them eventaully draws a laugh out of himself. "Well, Shinso, I also like cats. Lets go to my office for a bit." Jasper holds a hand to stop them. "I was told to inform you that training is cancelled today, Shinso." "W-why?! Is he okay?!" Japser smiles at the sweet boy's concern. "We're going on a date tonight, Shinso. Chill out." He calms down immediately, but his eyes glow playfully. "Finally. Geez, there are times we'll be in the middle of sit ups and he'll glance over at you talking to Present Mic every time he goes up." Jasper rolls her eyes and gives him a gentle shove. "Be nice. Go on and talk to Ms. Dani. Text Eraser when you're done and let him know how it went. I'll let him know about everything else, okay?" "Okay.. thank you, Jasper." She reaches up and pinches his cheek gently. "You're welcome, Hitoshi. Dani, please keep quiet about me and Eraser..?" "Of course. Have fun." Once her door shuts, Jasper finally takes a seat behind her desk. The moment she lays her head down, she actually takes a deep breath. 'Be strong, Jas. Others need you at your best.' Instead of keeping her head down like she desperately wants to, she sits up and starts answering the metric shit ton of emails that she somehow gets everyday. About halfway through, her phone starts to ring. When she sees that it's already three o'clock, she lets out a small curse. "Sho, I'm so sorry, but I'm not done with my emails." "No, it's fine. I'm coming to your office right now." She hangs up just as the door opens. He smiles at her, but it fades when he notices that her eyes are red and puffy. "Jas? What happened?" "A lot, Sho. You might want to sit down." Once he does, she recalls all of the events with Shinso. He listens without speaking, but his irises seem to ignite from pure fury. How had he not noticed? It was no secret that Shinso had an issue flinching if he moved too quickly into the boy's sight, but he never suspected that he was actually being abused at home. "So.. what is Dani going to do?" Jasper sighs and finally starts shutting her computer down. "I honestly don't know, but I'm so scared that it'll be worse for poor Shinso." Aizawa nods understandingly. Truth be told, it's the first time he's had a student come up as abused that he can think of. He has suspicions about Todoroki, but he can only hope Dani will eventually pull the truth from that boy's own mouth. "Sho, maybe we should reschedule." He shakes his head. "Absolutely not. Today is about me and you. Shinso is being taken care of, and tomorrow him and I will have a heart to heart." "But he-" Aizawa leans forward and places a finger on Jasper's mouth. "Me, you, cute cats, and coffee. Get your ass in my car before I drag you out there with my scarf." "Aggressively romantic?" He chuckles as they both stand. "Some things about me don't change despite the infatuation." Once she locks her office up, she hears Aizawa groan. "Mic, we're going to the cat cafe, please don't pester us." Mic chuckles. "I know, and I'm gonna go pick Lilith up so we can make bets on how long it'll take for the two of you to-" "Hizashi Yamada!" The growl in Aizawa's chest makes the blonde literally sprint away from the two of them. Once they make it outside, Jasper starts giggling. "What?" "He could have meant kiss, you know." Aizawa reaches to open the passenger door for her. "I know, but I don't want him to spoil any surprises." "What did you-" "Get in the car, Jas." Once they both get buckled up, Jasper leans on the door. Aizawa pulls onto the road, chuckling a the stares from Jasper. "Yes, dear?" "What the hell did you say about surprises?" "Why does it matter?" She slightly bites her bottom lip, making him cough softly. "Jasper." "Yes?" He rolls his eyes at the fact that her voice is slightly higher, feigning innocence. "Do not play this game. You'll lose." "I'm not playing games, Sho." He smirks, but refrains from saying anything else. Still, the brattiness is something he can't keep from loving. "Sho, what makes you think you'll win?" He rolls his eyes, suddenly pulling into a parking lot. It isn't unusual for him to park in the back of parking lots, he prefers other people taking the closer spots. "Okay, Jas," he turns the car off and turns to face Jasper, "you wanna be a brat? I'll play along as long as we can take it to the backseat." Her face glows crimson. "W-why the b-backseat?" He leans in, pressing his nose to hers, and drops his voice in both pitch and volume. "I can get my hands all over you back there, dear. It's easier to make you fucking cry." Her hands fly over her face, almost accidentally smacking Aizawa. Still, he chuckles and leans away. "Good to know that I win, Jas. Come on." "O-okay." He chuckles as she follows him closely. Walking inside makes her eyes brighten. Aizawa chuckles and goes to the counter, allowing her to go pick a spot to sit. As soon as she does, a cute grey cat jumps in her lap. His green eyes meet hers as he lets out a long meow. "You found one that likes you." She looks up at Aizawa, who hands her a warm cup. "He's super cute." Aizawa sits beside her on the couch, making her thigh rest against his. "You're super cute, Jas." "Stoooop!" He chuckles and places his arm around her shoulders as the cat curls up in her lap. He can't help but smile widely. "Sorry. I feel bad about embarrassing you so much in the car." "I-I didn't mind." He chuckles and leans his head on hers. "I feel like.. I should tell you about some stuff before we're official." "Alright." He sighs and sits up, taking his arm from her so he can turn slightly to face her. "I.. I have a weird.. question." "You can ask me anything, Sho." He smiles at how patient she's being. Joke certainly wasn't this way. "I don't want a regular relationship, per say, but I will do whatever-" "Sho, what dynamic do you want?" His eyes widen, but she giggles. "Mic warned me, but he wouldn't elaborate. Just tell me." Aizawa makes a mental note to absolutely destroy Mic when he gets home for that one. "I want to know if you'll be my submissive, Jas." She tilts her head. "Truth be told, I was kind of expecting that one." "Am I that easy?" "Dude, did you not hear yourself in the car?" The two of them both start to laugh. Still, Aizawa rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. "Yeah, sorry, I got caught in the moment. Anyways, Joke said no when I talked to her about it, and I made an exception. I will-" "No, Sho, I'm interested in it." "You- you are?" When she nods, he feels his heart start hammering in his chest. "That obviously means there will be rules, right?" "I'm not super strict, honestly. I just ask that you take care of yourself. I don't want you putting yourself down, and I want you to get all of the help you need. When it comes to more sexual things, we'll have limits to set, and a safe word to discuss. I also want to know that you will use it if anything becomes too much." She smiles while listening to him. Man, he really is easy to please, isn't he? "Is.. Is that really it?" He chuckles at her shock. "I mean, I think? If there is anything else, I'm too psyched out right now to think of it." "Why so psyched out?" He smiles and reaches to gently place his hand on her leg. Her face tints pink, but she glances into his eyes. "Because I finally have you, Jas, and I'm going to take care of you. Do you understand how surreal the past three weeks have been?" "I mean, this is the first date, Sho." "But for three weeks I've known that I had a shot. I can't.. I can't believe you waited so patiently for such a lame date." She giggles and scoots closer to him. "Lame? Anytime with you is great, Sho." The two of them stay that close for a while longer, both of them talking about different dreams of theirs. Jasper admits that, when she was younger, she wanted to adopt children and give them homes. It's one reason she feels so worried about Shinso, that much is clear. Aizawa admits that, even though he deals with kids a lot, having children of his own is something he thinks about more often than not. "Sho?" "Yes, dear?" She giggles at the term of endearment. "We are.. official now, right?" He chuckles and pulls her against him. "Yes, Jas." "Finally, that means I can-" She cuts off by looking up and placing a soft kiss on his cheek. "You could have done that anyways." Her smile makes his stomach start doing flips. How did he manage to get someone the complete opposite of him in so many ways, but also who understands him better than anyone else? "I just needed the conformation that.. I could do it and hope to do it again. Does that make sense?" Aizawa nods, placing his forehead to hers. "You wanna get out of here? Maybe take a walk around?" "Where would we go?" He thinks for a second. "Remember the pond near my apartment?" "Of course I do." "Well," he chuckles, "as long as you promise not to push me in it again, I would like to go watch the ducks with you again." She rolls her eyes, but stands up. "As long as you don't tickle me, you'll stay dry." He smirks and follow her out of the cafe. "I promise not to tickle you, but I can't promise that my hands will stay to myself." She scoffs and glances up at him. "Shouta Aizawa, you flirt." "Hey, I'm trying. Is it working?" She giggles and leans against his car. He stops, smirking at the playful gleam in her eyes. "Hmmm.. maybe? We'll see what happens." "Get in the car, now." Once the two of them are in, he reaches to place his hand on her leg softly. "So," he chuckles as they pull out of the parking lot, "what are you trying to accomplish with the flirting?" "Oh, I'm just matching the energy, Sho." When he gives her thigh a squeeze, she jumps slightly. "Hmm, I see." Aizawa is quiet for the rest of the drive, but Jasper's mind is racing. Every once in a while, he tightens his fingers around her thigh, 0r he runs his hand up and down it. The subtle actions make her think that it's something he does out of habit, but Aizawa knows exactly what he's doing. From the corner of his eye, he can see her cheeks tint an even darker pink with every little touch. Once he pulls into the apartment's parking lot, he smiles at Jasper. "Come on. I wanna show you something." She tilts her head, but follows him eagerly. Is it the ducks again? No, shes already seen those. 'Maybe some more babies hatched!' The thought is silly, but it makes her smile nonetheless. Once they make it over to the pond, Aizawa points towards where the sun is setting. "It seems like something you would enjoy watching." The two of them sit side by side, and he watches as her eyes widen at the different colors reflected in the water. "Sho," her laughter makes him chuckle, "it's so pretty!" He nods, suddenly turning her face to his. "Yeah.. it is.." Suddenly, just as he thinks he can do it, his nerves get the better of him. Instead, he freezes, his mouth barely above hers. Jasper smiles, reaching her hands out to grab his shirt. "Sho?" "I-I.. can I kiss you, Jas..?" "I don't know, can you?" He chuckles at the bratty retort, but finally pulls her mouth to his. She really didn't know if to expect a kiss from him to be wildly different from Rumi's, but wow it was. Rumi would kiss and slightly pull from it, but Aizawa presses his body against her as if he's relishing in every little touch. His scruff slightly tickles, but the feeling makes her heart pound harder than she's ever felt. When he pulls back, his eyes open slowly. When their eyes meet, Aizawa shakes his head slightly. "S-Sho..? Was it bad..?" "No, god no.. I just.. fuck it." He grabs her face in both hands to pull her back into a more heated kiss. Rather than sitting like a stump this time, Jasper reaches her arms around and tangles her fingers in his raven locks, pulling a slight groan from his throat. One hand slides from her cheek all the way to her waist, and he practically purrs from the shiver that runs down her body. He squeezes her side, which makes her gasp. As soon as that happens, he takes complete control of the now make out session. Once he pulls back, she blushes from the string of their saliva still connecting their lips. "I'm sorry, kitten. I didn't mean to force that on you." "I-I liked it, Sho. Did you call me kitten?" Now it's his turn to blush. "I-I, well, yeah.." "I..I like that." "What?!" His excitement makes her blush even more than she already was. "It's cute. I.. I like how you're comfortable calling me whatever you want." He chuckles lowly, placing his both hands on either side of her. When he does, she has lean back on her own hands to keep steady as he pretty much starts crawling on top of her. "Whether you would have liked kitten or not, I had plenty of different names picked out for you." She tilts her head, urging him to continue. "I mean, there were simple things like baby, honey, princess-" "I like that one.." He grins and gives her a soft peck. "Mmm, I figured you would, kitten. Only one name matters though." "Oh? Do tell." He pretty much purrs before leaning close to her ear. His warm breath makes electricity pretty much course through her blood. "You're fucking mine." She whimpers softly, nodding as he smirks. "Good girl.. You wanna go back to my apartment?" "I-I-" "Feel free to tell me no. I want you comfortable, honey." Jasper shakes her head and smiles. "I've never.. been with a guy, so all I ask is that you'll be patient." He nods and jumps from the ground. "Everything we do is up to you. We'll move as slow as you need." He offers his hand, which she takes gladly. Once she's on her feet, he bends down to give her the most loving kiss she thinks she has ever had. "Come on. Let me show you what being a princess means." She giggles, allowing him to lead the way towards the apartment. Of course, his mind is full of questions. He knows that, to do this right, he has to ignore the urge to take her the way he wants to. He knows that they both have limits, and they need to understand that about each other before it goes past making out. He fumbles with his key once they make it to the front door, which he opens and holds for Jasper. "My room is the first one on the right. Go ahead in there. I'm gonna grab some stuff." "Okay, S-Sho." Jasper walks into his bedroom, and can't keep herself from laughing. No wonder he liked her teenage bedroom. His room only has a bed, a dresser, and a bedside table. She notices a framed picture on the table and picks it up. She smiles at the picture of Mic and Aizawa as teenagers, hanging out at the UA festival. Mic had on some weird hat, pulling Sho into the selfie. Poor awkward boy seemed like he was just trying to enjoy lunch. "Yeah, Mic hasn't changed." Jasper jumps from Aizawa walking inside the room and speaking suddenly. She places the picture down, tilting her head at the small tray in his hands. On it was two water bottles, both cold, some peanut butter crackers, and fruit snacks. He chuckles, placing it on the dresser near the picture. "Just in case you need it after we do.. anything, really. However, we need to have a serious talk first." He shuts and locks his bedroom door. "Make yourself at home, dear." "O-okay." Jasper takes a seat on the bed, her heart racing as she watches his hang his scarf up. "We aren't doing anything until we establish a few rules, okay?" She nods understandingly, and he takes a seat on the bed beside her. "We need a safe word first. If this word is said, by either of us, then everything stops and we go straight into aftercare." She scratches her head in thought. "Uhhh.. mouse..?" He smiles a bit from the irony. "Oh? Mouse is fine, but I need you to promise that you'll use it if it becomes too much for you." "I promise, Sho." "Good girl. Now, what are limits I need to be made aware of?" She tilts her head. "I..I really don't know.. I've never been in a situation where I found out a hard limit.." He nods understandingly. "That's what our safe word is for, kitten. I have a few questions on what is okay with you, okay?" "Okay." He can't help but feel his heart leap from how easy she is when discussing all of this. "Would you prefer I praise you or degrade you?" She tilts her head in thought. "Uh.. I like both, actually." "I can do that, kitten, but don't let me get away with saying something you don't like. Have you ever been in a submissive headspace before?" When she nods, he sighs happily. "So you know what to expect from yourself?" "Well.. not really." "Elaborate?" "It happened and neither Mirko or I knew what to do.. I had a pretty bad sub drop, and since then I've kind of pushed it in the back of my mind and.. yeah." He slides from the bed and kneels in front of Jasper with a sigh. "I want you comfortable. If it's something you're willing to try, I will make sure to help you come back to Earth." She reaches and tucks a stray strand of his hair away. "I trust you, Sho." He smiles and gives the top of her hand a kiss. "I think that's all I need for now. Do you have questions for me?" "Umm.. honorifics..?" He chuckles and starts running both of his hands slowly up and down her legs. "Personally, I prefer Master, Sir, or Daddy, but I'm fine if you prefer my name." She shakes her head, her eyes suddenly lighting up. Is she already slipping? "Do you need to know.. any specific parts of my body that get me.. you know..?" He laughs from her little squeak of nervousness. "No, baby, I'll find all of those on my own. However, if you want to know a big weakness of mine, it's my neck." "Noted. You'll.. be leading this.. right?" "Correct, unless you want something else." She immediately shakes her head. "I-I need you to lead.. sir.." He chuckles and pulls her into a long kiss. He can feel her physically relax from it. "That's a good girl. Anything else?" When she mutters a small 'no sir' he stands and goes to check one more time that his door is locked. "We'll start slow, kitten. Lay down." The two of them kick their shoes off, and before she can lay down, Aizawa gets impatient and pretty much tackles her onto the bed. Her uncontrollable giggles make him laugh. However, the laughing stops when one hand grabs her hip and yanks her body into his. "I have dreamed of the day I got you in my bedroom so many times, Kitten. Hell, it makes it even better that you're already mine." He notices her hands stay close to her own chest, which makes him smile. "You can touch me, Kitten. I'm as much yours as you are mine." "S-sorry, I just-" She's cut off by a stinging smack across her ass. The sound that comes from her mouth shocks her, but makes Aizawa smirk. "No apologizing for things like that. Shit, that was a good one." "W-What the hell?!" He doesn't mean to laugh, he really doesn't, but her embarrassment is too damn cute. "What? You're the one who moaned, Jas." "F-fuck you.." Rolling his eyes, he gets over her. "What do you think I'm working towards?" He reaches and taps her thigh, and she slowly parts them so he can rest his body comfortably between them. One of his hands goes to grab the bottom of her shirt, and she stops him in an instant. "What's wrong?" "I-I just.. I'm not comfortable with.." He stops her by pressing a kiss to her lips. "Jasper," his voice is soft, understanding, "you're beautiful. Nothing could ever change my mind about that, I promise. What if I take mine off first?" Her face lights up red, and she starts blabbering. "I-I mean I.. I don't wanna ask-" "Just say 'please sir' for me." Her little squeak has a shiver going through him. "P-please...?" "I don't know who you're saying please to, Kitten." She huffs, which only makes him chuckle. Man, he loves brat energy. Still, she doesn't seem to enjoy being a brat for too long. "Please.. sir.." "That's my good girl." The praise makes her squirm slightly. He sits back on his knees, pulling his shirt over his head in one quick motion. Her eyes turn away from him, still nervous to so obviously stare at him. To be honest, it was really hard not to look. "Jas? You act as if you've never seen a half naked man before." His chuckle makes her smack his abdomen. His large hand grabs her wrist and holds it down at her side, making her whimper. "Keep it up, Kitten. I like having to show you who the boss is." Her eyes widen, but he sees something in her look change. "That's all I had to do?" Her giggle makes him smirk. She really does trust him, doesn't she? Jasper relishes in the slight.. fuzzy feeling in the back of her mind. Its been a long time since she was thrown into her headspace. Honestly, she kind of forgot what it felt like. In a way, it scares her. She keeps looking at Aizawa, expecting him to suddenly freak out, but his smile makes her entire body feel warm. "You okay there, pretty girl?" She nods, kind of forgetting that words actually exist. He can't help but snort a bit of laughter at her. "Take your shirt off, Kitten. Let me take some of your burdens." She tilts her head, but sits up and allows him to pull the shirt over her head. "B-burden?" He smirks, gently punching her onto her back. "Being such a good girl is exhausting, I'm sure. Let daddy take care of you.." Her eyes roll back slightly and she nods almost frantically. With her permission, he leans his head into the crook of her neck and starts placing gentle kisses there. The feeling of it alone makes her let out tiny whimpers, but he pauses when she suddenly giggles. "Is something amusing?" "Y-your scruff tickles." She can feel him smirk against her skin before he bites down a bit harshly. Her moan comes out unrestrained to his ears. "Fuck, Kitten, you're a kinky little shit." "S-Shut up!" The look in his eyes tells her that she fucked up. He gets off of her and walks towards his dresser. When she sits up, he leans against it, casually drumming his fingers along the top of the wood. "S-Sho?" "Who?" Her entire body shivers. "D-daddy..?" He chuckles lowly. "Good girl. Remind me.. what's the safe word?" "M-mouse?" He hums, finally looking away from her. "One more time." "Mouse. Why?" "Just making sure because someone had the fucking nerve to back talk me." He can see her body respond from his words alone. Her fingers tighten slightly on his sheets, making him purr from deep within his chest. "Strip." "H-huh?" He raises an eyebrow, slowly making his way towards her. "Is that a no, or a safe word?" She whimpers, knowing damn well that it isn't a safe word. She just can't bring herself to do it despite her wanting to obey him. She can see his eyes look over her hungrily, and it causes even more warmth to pool between her thighs. "C-Can you..." He lifts her chin so their eyes meet. "I'm here to pleasure you, Kitten. What do you need?" "P-please help me, daddy.." He groans and pulls her to her feet. "How can I resist such a pitiful request?" He only uses one hand to unhook her bra, tossing it somewhere behind him. When he hooks his fingers in the waistband of her pants, he looks into her ocean eyes for any look of discomfort. Instead, he's met with a glossed over gaze and a giggle. He can't help but smile as he finishes undressing her. "Lay down, Kitten." "What are you-" He puts a finger over her lips and helps her lay on the edge of the bed. "I think you know." Once he gets on his knees in the floor, her face glows crimson. "I-I- you really don't need-" "Oh, but I really want to. Now hush and let me wear you like earmuffs, princess." She whimpers as he makes himself comfortable between her legs.. His scruff drags over them as he leaves various bite marks and hickies on her plush thighs. "My word, Kitten," his chuckle is soft, "I've barely touched you, but you seem to have made a mess. What am I going to do with you?" He gently blows a stream of cold air across her slit, making her whine rather loudly. "Geez, loudmouth. I wonder if I can make you out perform Mic.." Her breath hitches when he places a gentle kiss right where she wants him to pay attention to. "P-please stop t-teasing me.." He smirks and gives a slight shrug. "Fine. I'll be nice this once, but don't expect it again. I expect you to beg for it next time." She nods just as he finally uses to fingers to spread her in front of him. Even without him actually doing anything, it makes her whimper needily.   "Look in my eyes, Kitten." She whimpers, but obeys the soft command. His usually slate colored eyes seem like lumps of charcoal from where he is. Maybe it's the way desire is practically burning in them. He slowly licks from her entrance to her clit, and the way her eyes roll in the back of her head makes him ache painfully in his sweatpants. It would be so easy, so amazing, to forget about the foreplay and take her right now. Despite that, he remembers that she's never actually been with a guy. It can be stressful the first time, and he would never put her in that situation. It doesn't take long for the slow licks to turn into harsh sucks, and bites along her inner thighs when he believes she's close to finishing. She lays her head back and whines pitifully, making him chuckle. "You'll get to finish, Kitten, don't worry. I'm just having fun." He starts gently sucking her clit again, and he notices her hips buck, so he uses one arm to hold her still. "So fucking impatient." His other hand slides up so he can push his middle finger in her, and the way he has to shove her hips back down is all the more amusing. "P-Please, daddy-" Her sentence is cut off by him adding another finger into her. "Oh come on," he chuckles and finally stands, "use your words, you brat." He looms over her, still pumping his fingers in and out of her at a faster pace. Her squeaks make him roll his eyes. "Words, Jasper." "I-I.. Fuck.." He smirks. "Needy brat. You'll get what you want, but I want to see you come undone like this first." She tries to form words, but everything seems to be coming out as whimpers and pitiful whines. Aizawa finally leans close to her ear, a smirk plastered on his face. "Either form the words, or you don't get to cum. If you do, we'll start all of this over until you listen to me." The threat doesn't go over her head. There is no way in hell she can handle that much torture from him. "N-no! P-please let me. I-I'm t-trying.." He chuckles. "There we go. A bit of threatening and you listen. What a well behaved pet." She tightens on his fingers, which makes him move faster. "Go ahead baby.. you don't have to ask this time." The coil that had been building in her abdomen for so long finally snaps, and she moans in his ear. One of her hands reaches for his bicep, and she digs her nails into his pale skin, leaving red marks in their path. He hisses a bit, but the feeling only makes him even more turned on. "S-shit! P-please, no more of that!" He chuckles and finally takes his fingers out of her. When he stands he asks her kindly to sit up, which she does despite her body still trembling. He looks her up and down, pleased with the thin layer of sweat covering her body, and the bright pink flush that covers the apples of her cheeks. She looks absolutely fucked already, and he hasn't even started. "Open your mouth." She does, and even sticks her tongue out. 'So fucking behaved already..' By the way her eyes widen, she wasn't expecting him to put the fingers that were just inside her in her mouth, but she closes her lips around them anyways. He can't help but sigh shakily when her feels her tongue swirling around them. She notices, and decides to send him a wink, which makes him pull the hand away. Instead of putting it back at his side, he reaches to grip her throat tightly. She moans loudly from the sudden contact, which makes him chuckle. "What a pretty little kitty.. and such a fitting collar.." She visibly shivers from his words. "Good girl. You wanna recreate what you just did to my fingers somewhere else?" She nods a bit too excitedly, but he enjoys watching her cheeks turn even redder. Once he releases his grip on her neck, she shyly reaches for the waistband of his pants. Once they're pulled down, she covers her mouth in shock at what's under them. He raises an eyebrow. "What's wrong?" "I-Oh fuck." "You and Mirko didn't use a strap or anything?" She shakes her head with an embarrassed laugh. "No.. we did.. you're.. bigger." When she looks up, his face is bright ass red. "Fucking.. shut up and use your mouth for something a bit more useful, Kitten. I'm getting impatient." She smirks, now equipped with a way to easily fluster her very dominant boyfriend. She gently pushes him backwards so she can get on her knees on the actual floor, and he turns an even darker shade of red. "You okay?" "You want me to be honest? I.. fuck. I never thought this would happen." She giggles and gently wraps one of her hands around his shaft, and the contact makes him suck in a sharp breath. "Look in my eyes, kitten." The moment she flicks her eyes up to his, she drags her tongue along the vein running on the underside of his cock. He groans loudly and places his right hand on the back of her head. "Do not tease me." "Y-yes sir." she immediately stops licking him and takes the tip in her mouth. He can tell she's really unsure what else to do, which makes him chuckle. "You're doing great- F-Fuck!" She shocks him by taking even more in her mouth. It takes a lot to keep his hips from bucking, but there's no way in hell he can expect her to handle it the first time. He grabs one of her hands and puts it on what she can't fit in her mouth. She flicks her eyes bac up to him before she starts stroking him slowly, which really is a contrast to the way she's hollowing her cheeks around the part of his cock that is in her mouth. "F-Fuck, Kitten. I thought you've n-never-" He cuts off, shivering when he sees spit come from her mouth and slide down to where her hand is still stroking. He opens his mouth in a moan, but quickly slams his hand over it when he hears his front door open. Jasper freezes in her place, but Aizawa shakes his head. "Hey," his voice drops to a whisper, "I'm sure it's just Mic. Keep going." She nods, suddenly taking him deeper down her throat. His hand wrenches in her hair. "You little shit.." However, a sudden, angry voice makes them both freeze again. "I can't be responsible for that, Hizashi. It isn't fair." Jasper pulls away, and Aizawa doesn't stop her when he realizes that it was Lilith's voice in the living room. Aizawa and jasper meet eyes and at the same time mutter 'mouse'. He's quick to scoop Jasper from the floor and place her gently on his bed. "Wait." He's quick yank his pants up and walk over to his dresser to grab one of the bottles of water for her. "Drink. Let me get you some comfy clothes to wear." Jasper nods, but she's listening to the somewhat quiet argument that Lilith and Mic seem to be having. "Kitten," she glances at Aizawa with a smile, "lets worry about them in a bit. I need to-" "Lilith, we agreed no feeling, and I can't help that I caught feelings! I-" "Mic, I am not arguing over this." Aizawa groans and slides one of his baggy shirts over Jasper's head. She puts it on the rest of the way while he grabs her underwear and a pair of his sweatpants for her. "Here. I'll go open one of the cookies for you." "I-I'm not hungry." "I don't care, baby. You need to eat after all of that. Plus, it will help bring you back down from your headspace." She sighs in defeat and takes the cookie from his outstretched hand. "You know what else will bring you down?" She tilts her head just as he smirks playfully. A sudden idea comes to her mind, and she grins. "Cuddles..?" "You read my mind, cutie. Scoot over." She eats the rest of her snack in one bite so she can hurry and finish getting dressed. Once both of them are in the bed, he pretty much pulls her on top of him. "S-Sho! I'm heavy!" "No, you really aren't. Shut up and let me hold you." He lays her head in the crook of his neck, absent-mindedly tracing circles on his bare chest. "Are you mad, Sho?" "Excuse me?" She giggles a bit from the response. "You didn't get to.. you know.." "No, baby, I'm not mad. That would be the dumbest thing to be mad about. I'm happy I got to do stuff with you." He kisses her cheek with a chuckle. "I really am the luckiest son of a bitch." "Ewww." He rolls his eyes and kisses her cheek like four more times. "I am, Jasper. Do you understand how many nights I thought of you on your knees in front of me?" "Y-you did?" He smirks. "Absolutely. Hell, Joke would want to have sex, and I couldn't. I felt.. dirty. All I wanted was you, and now I have you. Now all I can think about is.. gross romantic shit." She places her small hand on his cheek and presses their noses together. "You're a hopeless romantic, Sho." "Hmm. I never was before meeting you. You bring out the good part of my personality." "I like all of your personality." "Ah, yes, you're into men who look half dead." More yelling makes them both sigh. "Maybe we should-" "Come on, Kitten. Lets shut them up so we can nap." She wasn't exactly thinking of that, but it gets him to get up. Once his bedroom door opens, the fighting suddenly stops. "Shit, Sho, I had no idea you were home." Aizawa rubs his eyes, which makes the two of them think he was trying to sleep. "Yeah, sorry I'm shirtless. Let me fix that." Lilith laughs softly. "It's cool. I've seen a lot- Jasper?" When Jasper comes out of the bedroom, she rubs the back of her neck awkwardly. "Hey, Lils.." She opens her mouth to say something, but closes it when Aizawa bends down to give Jasper a soft kiss. "I'll be right back, baby." "O-okay, Sho." He chuckles and slips back into his bedroom to find a shirt. Lilith smirks, but Mic is the one to speak. "First date was here, I see." "N-no! We did go to the cat cafe.. and then to the duck pond.. and then here." Lilith looks her up and down. "His clothes? No bra?" "S-shut it!" "You two happened to interrupt right before we actually fucked. So, no, we didn't have sex." Aizawa walks past Jasper, but not before giving her a light smack on her ass. Lilith scoffs. "Oooh, did you already drop the 'L' word, too?" That makes Aizawa actually glare at her. "Absolutely not." Jasper nods in agreeance. There's no way that will come for a while despite what they do together. "Anyways, why are you and Mic fighting?" Mic's bright green eyes lose their shine. "Don't worry, baby. We're fine." "I would prefer you not lie to Jasper to save face." He turns an actual glare to Lilith. "It's no one else's business, so please act like an adult rather than a child, Lilith." Lilith's eyes widen, and Jasper's jaw drops. He knows how she feels about being called a child. Everyone here does. "You know what," Lilith's voice is dangerously calm, "fuck you, Yamada." Aizawa suddenly walks into the living room from the kitchen. "Hizashi Yamada." "H-huh?" Jasper quickly rushes over to Lilith and wraps her in a tight hug. Right when she does, there's a smack that rings through the room. Both of the girls look over just as Aizawa lowers his hand. A bright red hand mark is left on Mic's cheek. "Get out." "S-Sho-" "Get. Out. Go to Midnight's and calm down or I will kick your fucking ass." Mic is quick to rush out of the apartment. Aizawa lets out a curse, rubbing his stinging palm. "Is she okay?" "I'm fine.. thanks, Aizawa." He walks over and gives Lilith a loving pat on the back. She smiles from the subtle affectionate act. "I was going to have you stay with me tonight, Jas, but go home with her. I'll be spending the night explaining to Mic how we talk to people in this house." "Aizawa, I don't-" "Yeah, I agree. Let me go get my bra, and then can you drive us home?" "Of course, baby." It doesn't take long to gather her things, but she decides to leave the shirt she was wearing under Aizawa's pillow as a surprise. "Do you-" "Keep the clothes, baby. Come on." Jasper reaches and grabs Lilith's hand as they walk to the car. Lilith presses against her. "Hey," her voice drops to a whisper, "I don't mean to ruin your night." Jasper giggles and gives Lilith a soft kiss on her head. "You're always my number one priority, Lils. Nothing will ever replace you."  

@katgalle​

[kwanisms]

To the Sky 01: Min-ah, the Florist

⇢ genre: steampunk au, sky pirates, ateez au, angst, fluff, smut ⇢ pairing: Seonghwa x OC ⇢ warning: alcohol consumption, mention of death, major character death, sexual content, strong language, more warnings in each chapter ⇢ summary: Living in the sky is not always easy, especially with a religious sect policing everything you do. One florist, Bang Min-ah, has always dreamed about life outside Arcadia. Little does she know, she’s about to find out how very different life is when a group of sky pirates accidentally kidnap her. ⇢ word count: 6.4k

✙ series masterlist  ✙ previous || next 

a/n: The prologue was narrated by Min-ah but from now on, everything will be in third person. I will include the days of the week at the top to show passage of time as well as the time in 24 hour format. (If you have a question about the days of the week, I’m using the same one as in Skyrim. When new parts go up, the previous and next links will be at the top and bottom of each part to navigate the 20 parts. I hope you all enjoy this part and as always, feedback is much appreciated! 

“This indicates the character is speaking in Korean.” “This indicates the character is speaking in English.” ‘This indicates the character is thinking.’

January 14, NY263 Loredas, 07:21 Arcadia

The sun filtered through the curtains bathing the room in a soft yellow light as Min-ah awoke. She peered around the room, eyes falling on the dress that hung on her closet door. She let out a groan and rolled over to face the opposite side of the room. ‘It’s a week away,’ she told herself internally. She wasn’t ready. She never thought she would be. She must have had this conversation with herself a hundred times now. ‘You’re going to marry Kim Woojin. There’s nothing to be done about it.’

She opened her eyes to look at the dress that had been laid out for her. ‘Now who would have done that? Surely it can’t have been Mother,’ she thought as she slowly sat up. It was unlike her mother to pick out a dress for her, let alone set it out for her anymore. She hadn't done that in years.

Min-ah pulled back the covers and slipped out of bed, walking over to her vanity. She sat down and let out a yawn before shaking her head and looking at her reflection in the mirror. She chuckled at the unruly mess of hair and started working on taming it.

Half an hour later, she heard a knock at the door. "Come in," Min-ah called. The door opened and the maid came in, giving a small curtsey before walking around the bed.

"Good morning, ma'am," she said softly. Min-ah smiled at her. "Good morning, Sooyun," Min-ah replied, giving herself a final once over in the mirror before standing up and turning to Sooyun. "Has my mother gotten up?" she asked, grimacing when the maid shook her head quietly. Min-ah sighed and stood up straight.

Sooyun helped her strip down and start getting dressed, tying her corset tightly. "Tighter ma'am?" she asked. Min-ah shook her head. "I'm working today, so I think I'd like to breathe today," Min-ah jokingly replied. Sooyun smiled as she knotted the ties and turned to pick up a cream colored blouse.

Min-ah slipped it on, buttoning it up from the base and up the neck. Sooyun picked up the skirt, a dark blue damask pattern and held it open for Min-ah to slip over her head. Min-ah held the skirt in place while Sooyun tightened it in place. Once it was on, Min-ah sat down while Sooyun helped her put on her shoes.

After standing back up, Min-ah looked over herself in the full length mirror, giving her wedding dress a disdainful look before turning to smile at Sooyun. “Thank you, Sooyun,” she said and the maid gave another curtsey before heading for the door. Min-ah called out to her and she turned around. “Has my brother woken up yet?” Min-ah asked. Sooyun shook her head. “I’m not sure ma’am. I haven’t checked on him yet.” Min-ah smiled. “Please do. I’ll head down and start breakfast.”

Sooyun gave another curtsy before opening the door and disappearing down the hall. Min-ah walked around her bed, stopping by the closet to shut the door, hiding the dress from view, ‘I can’t keep looking at it.’ She walked to the door, stepping out into the hall and shutting the door behind her. Min-ah made her way down the stairs to the foyer, stopping to check the pile of mail on the floor at the front door. She sorted the post and headed into the kitchen to begin preparing breakfast. 

About halfway through cooking, Sooyun entered the room, following behind her was Min-ho. He glanced up at Min-ah and gave her a smile. “Morning, sister,” he said as he moved to sit at the counter, watching his sister as she cooked. “Good morning, Min-ho,” she said with a smile as she plated his omelette. Min-ho let out a sigh as she set the plate before him. 

“How did you sleep?” she asked as she continued making food. Min-ho opened his mouth to respond but cut himself off and looked down at his food. Min-ah turned to see what had caused his lapse in response to see their mother had entered the room, looking a little worse for wear. Min-ah stood a little straighter. “Good morning, mother,” she addressed the woman. Her mother waved her hand, dismissing her as she moved to open the liquor cabinet.

Min-ah glanced at Min-ho who kept his head down. Min-ah glanced back at her mother who was busy pouring herself a glass of some brown liquor. She capped the bottle and grabbed the glass, lifting it to her lips and taking a heavy sip. She walked past Min-ho, patting him on the back. “Morning, Min-ki,” she grumbled and it took every ounce of self control she had to keep from biting back at her mother.

Min-ah watched as the woman stumbled out of the kitchen and towards the parlor before turning to look at Min-ho. His expression was unreadable. “Min-ho?” Min-ah started hesitantly. Min-ho silent got to his feet, grabbing his bag and his plate. “I’ll bring this home after work,” he said, feigning a smile before turning and walking out of the kitchen. 

Min-ah heard the door slam in the distance and she threw a dirty glance towards the parlor where she could see her mother lounging in a chaise lounge, sipping on her drink, not a care in the world. Min-ah finished the omelette she was making and plated it before turning the stove off and setting the skillet aside as Sooyun walked in. Min-ah turned to the main, forcing a smile.

She handed the plate to her. “Please give that to Mother for me,” she said. Sooyun took the plate with a nod as Min-ah undid the ties of her apron and removed it, hanging it from the pantry door. “I’m off to the shop. I’ll be gone most of the day,” Min-ah said as she smoothed down her skirt. “I’ve set out your coat, madam,” Sooyun said with a curtsy. Min-ah thanked her and left the kitchen, heading for the front door.

As Min-ah reached the door there was a sharp but loud knock. She opened the door and was surprised to see a young man, maybe a few years older than herself, standing on the front stoop. Min-ah gave him a pleasant smile. “Can I help you?” she asked politely. The man had an aura about it, something Min-ah couldn’t quite place.

He stood several inches taller than she, had light brownish blonde hair. He wore plain clothes, seemingly a member of the middle class though that didn’t matter to her. Min-ah wasn’t of the mind to judge someone based on their social status but rather on their character and manner. The young man before glanced inside the house before fixing her with a stare.

Min-ah waited for him to speak, still smiling politely. When he spoke, he did so in Korean. “I’m looking for Bang Min-hyuk,” he said, his voice deeper than Min-ah expected. He spoke with an accent, one she’d heard before from the lieutenant of the guard. “Is he home?” he continued. Min-ah shook her head. “No, I’m afraid he’s not. I haven’t seen him in some days,” she explained. “He’s probably away on business.”

The young man nodded. “Is there something I can help you with?” Min-ah asked, always eager to be of assistance. The young man gave her a peculiar look. “I’m his daughter,” Min-ah explained, not taking note of the way the stranger’s eyes widened as he looked her over. He shook his head. 

“No. Just, give this to him when you see him next,” he said, handing over an envelope. Min-ah took it and looked down at it before back up at the young man. “Who shall I tell him stopped by?” she asked but the man said nothing, instead turning to make his way down the steps.

Slightly put off by this, Min-ah shook her head, withdrawing back inside and shutting the door. She turned to set the envelope with her father’s mail before grabbing her coat from the rack by the door. Min-ah shrugged into her coat, grabbed the door knob and turned it, opening the door and headed out.

The temperature outside was pleasant as the sun hadn’t risen over the tops of the buildings yet, sun light filtering between the buildings as Min-ah walked from her home. Her parent’s house was located in Blush Gardens, a district on the middle steppes of Arcadia.

Most of her peers lived on higher steppes but Min-ah didn’t mind. Blush Gardens was known for its foliage and was considered by some to be a hidden gem and the most beautiful district in Arcadia. As she made the short trek to the market, Prosperity Plaza, Min-ah noticed many people coming out of their homes to head off for work, children heading off for school.

Upon reaching the market district, Min-ah made her way toward her shop, reaching the door as the sun broke over the tops of the building and starting to cast the square in golden sunlight. Unlocking the door, Min-ah stepped inside her flower shop, shutting the door behind her and locking it. She made her way to the counter, stepping behind it and walking through the door to the back.

Hanging up her coat, Min-ah grabbed her apron, tying it around her waist in a knot and began moving arrangements to the front of the store. On her third pass, she heard a knock at the front door and looked over, eyebrows raised. She set the vases in her hands down and walked over to the door, wiping her hands on her apron, she peered through the glass and rolled her eyes.

Unlocking the door, she opened it, smiling up at the man on the other side. “Woojin,” she said as he smiled down at her. “What are you doing here?” she asked. Woojin held up a paper sack. “The bakery opened early. I know you forget breakfast sometimes,” he said. Min-ah stepped back, allowing him to enter the shop. He stepped over the threshold, leaning down to kiss her cheek.

Min-ah shut the door behind him and locked it. She turned to face him as he walked to the counter. She followed him, stopping when he turned abruptly to hand her a small bouquet of flowers. Min-ah let out a chuckle, taking the flowers from him. ‘Really?’ she thought to herself. “What are these for?” she asked, looking up at her fiance. “I saw them on my way to the bakery and thought of you,” he admitted.

Min-ah took them behind the counter, grabbing an empty vase and started transferring the arrangement to the glass container. “You always say that when you buy me flowers,” Min-ah said as she worked. “Flowers always remind me of you,” Woojin said as he watched her work. “I would hope so,” Min-ah said with a laugh. “I am a florist after all. Flowers are my job,” she reminded him.

“Why are you buying the competition anyway?” Min-ah asked, turning as Woojin opened the bag from the bakery and pulled out a couple bagels. He pulled out a small container of some sort of cream cheese spread and set them on a napkin for her. “I can’t buy your flowers from you to give to you,” he said with a chuckle. “Besides,” he added as she used a small knife to spread cream cheese over her bagel.

“Isn’t it customary to understand your enemy so you can defeat them more easily?” he asked, raising his eyebrow at Min-ah. “They aren’t my enemies,” Min-ah said as she brought the bagel up to her lips to take a bite. “Just competition,” she reminded him. Woojin narrowed his eyes at her playfully. “Is it not more fun to say they’re your enemy?” he asked. Min-ah shook her head. “You’re preposterous,” she said light-heartedly. Woojin watched her take another bite of her bagel.

“Are we still on for tonight?” he asked softly, causing her eyes to shift, fixing her gaze on him. There was something in his tone. She recognized it. 

In the past, Woojin had hinted at wanting to be alone with her for intimacy but Min-ah firmly believed that they should wait until they were married before they went that far. Not that there hadn’t been stolen kisses here and there and maybe some inappropriate touching and of course words; there were always words. She knew how her fiance felt about her but he also knew how she felt about sex before marriage.

She just wasn’t ready.

“Dinner, you mean?” Min-ah asked, hopefully to remind him that she still wanted to wait, even if they were only a week from their wedding. Woojin gave her a soft smile, nodding his head. “Of course,” he said. “Dinner.” Min-ah nodded quietly, taking another bite of her bagel, finishing it off. Woojin pushed the second one towards her but she shook her head. “I’ll be fine,” she said, pushing it back. “You go ahead.”

Woojin placed the bagel back in the sack and closed it. “Save it for later,” he said, watching as Min-ah started from where she left off, setting out the new arrangements. Woojin craned his neck to look through the doorway as she disappeared in the back. “Anything I can do to help?” he asked.

Min-ah peered around the door frame. “Come help me move these arrangements?” she asked. Woojin stood, removing his coat and setting it on the counter. He unbuttoned the end of his sleeves, rolling them up, exposing his forearms as he moved to help Min-ah. With his help, she had moved all the arrangements she’d made last night to the front to put on display. She finished making the price markers and was setting them out when Woojin checked his watch.

“Oh, I’m going to be late,” he said, walking to grab his coat from the counter. Min-ah turned to look at him. “Late for what?” she asked, walking him to the door. Woojin put his coat on as Min-ah unlocked the door. Before she could open it, Woojin pressed his hand against the wood, keeping the door shut with one hand and with the other, he took Min-ah chin in his fingers, tilting her head up to look at him.

Without a word, he pressed his lips to hers. Min-ah had grown accustomed to his boldness and reciprocated, feeling him smile into the kiss. “I’ll swing by to pick you up after my errands tonight,” he whispered before kissing her again. “Wait for me.” When he pulled back, Min-ah looked up at him. “About dinner,” she said but Woojin gave her another short peck before opening the door. “I’ll see you later tonight,” he said before stepping out into the square that had started to fill up with people.

Min-ah sighed as he walked away, disappearing around the corner before she shut the door and returned to her work. She wanted to ask if they could do dinner at his place. She didn’t much feel like bringing him back to whatever state her mother would be in. Min-ah continued setting up the shop before she moved to unlock the door and flip the closed sign to display the open side.

“Thank you for your patronage!” Min-ah called with a wave as the last customer of her lunch rush exited the shop. So far, she had over several dozen orders of bouquets and other arrangements. She was doing well, though she could attribute it to today being the last day of the week. ‘If only the weekdays were so prosperous,’ she thought as she turned her back to the front door.

The ringing of the bell caught her attention and she turned around to see Ahn Jae-hwa, the baker, entering the shop. Min-ah smiled, turning to face him as he looked around before approaching the counter. “Jae-hwa,” she said as he stopped before him, fixing her with a warm smile. “Good afternoon, Min-ah,” he replied. Min-ah always liked Jae-hwa. He was an exceptional baker and not to mention a very kind soul as well. “How can I help you today?” Min-ah asked.

Jae-hwa pulled out a paper from his apron and unfolded it. “I’m catering an event,” he said, handing her the paper. “It’s for a party Han Boreum is throwing. She wants…” he said trailing off as Min-ah took the paper and looked at it. “Whatever that is,” he finished waving his hand at the paper. Min-ah held back a laugh as she read the paper. “This is fairly simple,” she said as she looked up at the baker.

“How many of these arrangements do you need?” she asked, setting the paper on the counter and grabbing her pad of paper and a pen. “Two dozen,” he said, watching as she removed the cap of the pen and began writing down what he needed and how many he needed. As she finished up, Min-ah looked back up at him. “Anything else?” she asked with a smile. Jae-hwa nodded slowly.

Min-ah waited for him to speak but he said nothing. She smiled at him and gave him a pointed look. “Well,” she said with a chuckle. “What is it?” she asked, noticing the way the baker’s cheeks flushed. “I need a bouquet of roses,” he blurted out. ‘Roses?’ Min-ah raised her eyebrows at him before regaining composure. “Alright,” she said, bringing her pen to the paper again. “What kind of roses?” she asked.

Jae-hwa opened and closed his mouth several times as Min-ah glanced up at him. “I don’t know,” he admitted. Min-ah chuckled softly, setting the pen down. “Well, what kind of gesture were you hoping for?” she asked. Jae-hwa stared plainly back at her. Min-ah sighed. “Are you trying to be friendly, sweet, enthusiastic, grateful, thoughtful, or romantic?” Min-ah asked, leaning against the counter top.

Jae-hwa perked up at the mention of romance. “Romantic,” he said, nodding. Min-ah smiled and grabbed her pen, scribbled down a few words. “How many?” she asked. Jae-hwa thought for a moment and said “a dozen.” Min-ah smiled. “Regular dozen or a baker’s dozen?” she asked cheekily. Jae-hwa smiled at her. “Make it thirteen,” he said with a shrug. Min-ah wrote that down. “Alright, thirteen red roses. I have that added to your order,” she said ripping the paper from the pad and moving to ring up his order. “And because you’re a member of the merchant class, I’m going to give you a discount,” she added.

Jae-hwa smiled at her as he watched her work. “So, how are the wedding preparations coming along?” he asked. Min-ah froze momentarily before continuing on. “Well, it’s in a week,” she said, dodging his question. Jae-hwa glanced around to make sure the shop was empty except for the two of them. “Min-ah,” he said in a low tone. “You can tell me,” he added. Min-ah hesitated before looking up at him.

“It’s just us,” he said. Min-ah’s eyes swept the room to confirm that they were indeed alone. She set her pen down and let out a sigh. “The preparations are done, I’m just…” she trailed off, looking down at the paper under her hand. “Nervous?” Jae-hwa asked. Min-ah shook her head. “Scared is more like it,” she admitted. Jae-hwa looked taken aback. “Scared? Why?” he asked, his voice full of confusion but his face full of concern. “I’ve just been wondering if this is the right choice,” Min-ah said in a small voice.

Jae-hwa was silent for a moment before he inhaled deeply. “If you aren’t sure that it’s right, then don’t go through with it,” he said simply. Min-ah let out a dry laugh. “As if it were as simple as that,” she muttered darkly. Jae-hwa leaned over the counter. “But it is,” he replied. “It is that simple, Min-ah. If you aren’t sure you want to marry Woojin, then don’t. Wait until you know for certain. Don’t do something you’ll spend the rest of your life regretting and wishing you hadn’t done.”

Min-ah forced a smile. ‘If only the world worked like that,’ she thought sadly. She finished ringing Jae-hwa up and gave him his total. “Can I pay half now and the other half when I pick up the arrangements?” he asked. Min-ah nodded, moving to start his arrangement of roses. She walked into the back, grabbing her supplies and then back into the sales area to pick out thirteen of her best roses.

“So,” Jae-hwa said, watching her as she worked. “Tomorrow’s the day, isn’t it?” he asked softly and Min-ah froze, her hands shaking slightly before she willed the thoughts away and continued working. “Yes,” she replied in a soft tone. “It is tomorrow.” Jae-hwa must have noticed the shift in her tone. “I’m sorry.” His voice was somber, genuine sympathy laced with his voice. “I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

Min-ah shook her head, forcing a smile while simultaneously forcing the lump in her throat down. “It’s quite alright,” she replied. “It’s the anniversary. Everyone knows that,” she added, trying to keep her voice even. “I just can’t believe it’s been almost ten years since it happened,” she said. Jae-hwa nodded, keeping an eye on her in case her mood turned south. 

Min-ah moved from behind the counter to grab a small bundle of baby’s breath, clusters of tiny white flowers, to use as an accent. She added them in and started securing the stems carefully. Once she finished, she took his payment, cashing it out and then wrapping the bouquet for him.

“Here you are,” she said, handing him the finished arrangement. Jae-hwa smiled at it and thanked her again. “So,” Min-ah asked, catching his gaze. “What’s that for?” she asked, nodding at the roses. Jae-hwa smiled and shook his head. “Ah, no. If I told you that,” he said, starting to back away towards the door. “I’d have to kill you.” Min-ah laughed out loud as he reached the door.

“While a rolling pin does make a very good weapon,” Min-ah said thoughtfully. “It’s far too obvious. You’d be figured out instantly,” she added. It was Jae-hwa’s turn to laugh. He opened the door, thanking her again and exiting. Min-ah started cleaning up her work space, looking up at the clock on the wall to see the time. It was getting late. She decided to start closing up for the day, knowing Woojin would be there to pick her up within the hour.

As she was misting the flowers, the bell above the door rang, signaling she had another customer. “I’ll be right there!” she called, giving the carnations a few more spritz of water before setting her mister down and wiping her hands on her apron. Min-ah walked through the doorway, into the front part of the store to see a woman looking around at flowers, stopping to inspect the petals of a few. She was dressed from head to toe in black. A high neck, long sleeve black dress, a black fur shawl, and black sunhat.

Min-ah forced a smile, ignoring her heart which was now thundering in her chest anxiously.

Lilith Foxe had come to her shop.

“Ah, Ms. Foxe,” Min-ah said, pleasantly, flexing her English skills as she walked out from behind the counter, catching the woman’s attention. Lilith Foxe was the great-granddaughter of one of the founders of Arcadia and as such, she was a notable member of society. “Miss Bang,” Lilith replied, a small but polite smile resting on her face. “I hope I’m not intruding,” Lilith added. Min-ah shook her head. “Of course not,” she said. “I’m still open for another half hour,” she added.

Deciding to get straight to the point, Min-ah asked “how may I be of service?” Lilith looked around at the flowers. “I need flowers for a grave,” she said softly. Min-ah said nothing but nodded before moving to show her a couple arrangements she made the night before. Lilith looked over them carefully. “These are lovely but do you have anything in black?” she asked. ‘This woman and her damn black!’ Min-ah smiled.

“I have some lilies,” she said beckoning Lilith over as she walked around the counter and down one of the rows. Lilith followed behind her. Min-ah pointed out the flowers she had in mind. A calla lily in a deep burgundy. “Is this the darkest you have?” Lilith asked, inspecting the flower. Min-ah nodded. “No flower is truly black,” she said as Lilith looked over the lilies again. “Dark purple is the closest you can get to black.” Lilith stood straight before nodding. “I’ll take them,” she said. Min-ah smiled and picked out a few of the flowers, leading her patron to the counter to ring her up and arrange the lilies.

After cashing her out, Min-ah worked fast and carefully to secure the lilies together. She wrapped them and handed her work to Lilith who looked pleased with her purchase. “Thank you,” she said. She reached into her purse and pulled out a small pouch. She handed it to Min-ah. “For your time,” she said. Min-ah hesitantly held out her hand and allowed Lilith to deposit the bag into her hand. “Thank you, ma’am,” she said softly. Lilith turned and headed for the door, sweeping out into the dying light without another word. Min-ah untied the pouch and looked inside. She had received a rather generous tip.

‘What an odd woman.’

Half an hour later, Min-ah was sweeping dirt and other debris out the back door when she heard a knock at the front. She set the broom down, leaning it against the wall before she headed to answer it. Woojin smiled as she let him in. “You ready?” he asked, leaning down to kiss her cheek. Min-ah nodded, returning the gesture. “Let me just finish sweeping and I’ll grab my things,” she said, rushing back to her broom. Woojin followed behind, stopping to lean against the door frame behind her and watch as she swept the dirt out onto the back patio. Behind her shop, in the rather large fenced yard was her garden.

Min-ah finished sweeping and shut the door, locking it and hanging up her broom. She moved to grab her coat, forgetting her apron still tied around her waist. Woojin let out a chuckle and moved to stand behind her. “Here,” he said softly, his hands moving to untie the apron. He pulled it from her and hung it up next to her other aprons. Min-ah let out a breathless thank you and pulled her coat on, making sure her keys were in her pocket. 

Min-ah followed Woojin through the shop, letting him out first. She turned the open sign around, indicating she was closed and shut the door behind her as she followed her fiance out. She locked the door and made sure it was secure before turning to Woojin who offered her his arm. “Shall we?” he asked. Min-ah nodded, taking his arm and following his lead as he started off through the market.

“Could we have dinner at your place tonight?” Min-ah asked suddenly, looking up at Woojin who looked at her with wide eyes. “At my place?” he asked, making sure he heard her right. She nodded. “My mother has been drinking all day,” Min-ah said softly and Woojin understood immediately. “Of course,” he said with a smile. “What about your brother?” he asked. “Sooyun will no doubt make him something,” she said softly. Woojin nodded and started in the direction of his place.

The walk took no time at all as they walked through the darkening streets. The lamp lighters were out, lighting the lamp posts as they continued on, their conversation light as they went. ‘I just don’t understand why your father didn’t pick a house in Lion Terrace,” he said, shaking his head. Min-ah shrugged. They’d had this conversation before. 

She lived in Blush Gardens, a lower district than Lion Terrace or Castle Hill but Min-ah didn’t mind. She was close to the market and her family had a very beautiful home. “It’s not that bad, Woojin,” Min-ah said as they rounded the corner and his manor came into view. “Still, I’d prefer if you moved in with me. I’d feel much better knowing you were safer here,” he said. Min-ah let out a sigh.

“It’s too premature,” she said, reminding him. Woojin approached the gate and opened it, allowing her in first. “We’re going to be married in a week, Min-ah. I don’t think anyone would object to it,” he said as he shut the gate behind him, locking it and heading up the stairs to the front door, guiding Min-ah with a supportive hand on her back. “I have plenty of rooms for you to stay in before we’re married.”

He opened the door, letting her in, following behind and shutting the door. They were greeted by his butler. “Have Eun-ja start dinner as soon as possible, Dong-hyung,” Woojin said to him. The butler nodded before taking Woojin’s coat. Min-ah felt Woojin’s hands on her shoulders to help her out of her coat and she allowed him to slip it off and handed that to Dong-hyung who then headed to put them away and no doubt have dinner started. Woojin gestured for Min-ah to start up the steps.

He led her to a room to wash up for dinner, leaving her to do so, shutting the door behind him. Min-ah looked into the mirror before her and sighed before looking down at the basin with water in it. She undid the buttons of her sleeves, pulling them back to wash her hands of any remaining traces of dirt from her activities of the day. Jae-hwa’s words repeated in her head.

‘If you aren’t sure you want to marry Woojin, then don’t. Wait until you know for certain.’ Min-ah looked back up at her reflection. Did she want to marry Woojin? Was she certain she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him? Min-ah grimaced. The honest truth was no but what choice did she really have? Her father and mother expected her to get married. 

In every aspect, Woojin was the perfect suitor. He was a rich man of status, handsome, polite, caring, and intelligent. There was a reason other women were jealous of Min-ah for her engagement. Woojin was the perfect gentleman. Min-ah should be ecstatic to be marrying such a fine man of society.

Only she wasn’t.

Sure, Woojin had been nothing but kind and generous towards her since they met but something was missing. Something Min-ah couldn’t put her finger on but it gave her serious doubts about her potential happiness with the man she was due to marry in a week. She wasn’t sure if she could go through with it. What would they say if she canceled the wedding now? Min-ah was interrupted from her thoughts by a sharp knocking on the door. She dried her hands quickly, rolling her sleeves back down and fastening the buttons. She turned to open the door and was met with Woojin’s smile. “All done?” he asked.

Min-ah nodded, stepping out of the room and heading downstairs, Woojin just behind her. The two of them entered the dining room where Woojin pulled Min-ah’s chair out for her before taking a seat next to her. The food was brought out to them, Min-ah thanking one of the servants before digging in.

She’d missed lunch and was ravenous. Woojin smiled as she ate, taking his time with his own food. “You’re always so kind to everyone,” he noted. Min-ah glanced up at him. She gave him a smile and returned to her food as he started telling her about his day. “I saw your brother at the bank,” Woojin said as he set his utensil’s down. Min-ah looked up at him, her fork in mid air as she was about to take a bite.

“You did?” she asked. Woojin nodded. “I did. I had business there today. He looked stressed,” he said. Min-ah set her fork down and sat back in her chair. ‘What has him so stressed?’ she wondered. “I’m sure it was just work,” Woojin said reassuringly. Min-ah nodded, staring at the wooden surface of the table. She didn’t hear Woojin push his chair out and get to his feet. He slowly made his way around the table, pulling out a chair next to Min-ah who looked up at him as he took a seat beside her.

“Are you finished?” he asked, nodding at her plate. Min-ah nodded and the plate was whisked away without a word. Trying to lighten the mood, she looked up at Woojin. “So, what kind of business did you have at the bank?” she asked. Woojin smiled. “I needed to pull out some money,” he said casually. Min-ah tilted her head to the side quizzically. “What for?” she asked. Woojin smiled before getting up from the table and walking over to the door. “I’ll be right back,” he said, disappearing from sight.

Min-ah sat still for a moment, waiting for him to return. A few moments later, he did, a small white gift bag in hand. He returned to sit beside her, setting the bag on the table before Min-ah. She stared at it for a moment before turning to give Woojin a bewildered look. “Open it,” he said with a chuckle. Min-ah shifted forward in her chair and started opening the bag.

She pulled the tissue paper out, setting it aside and peered inside the bag. Inside was a small square box coated in black velvet. Min-ah pulled it out and inspected it. It was flat and rectangular. She glanced up at Woojin who was watching her carefully. Min-ah threw another glance at her fiance before opening the box revealing a beautiful dainty silver chain. At the middle of it was a small charm. A small sterling silver loop with a tiny rose quartz bead in the middle, suspended. Min-ah stared in awe at the necklace.

She glanced up at Woojin, her lips parted in shock. “It’s beautiful,” she whispered. Woojin stood and took the necklace from her, walking around behind her to put the necklace on her. Once the chain was clasped together, Min-ah reached up, her fingertips brushing the delicate charm. She felt Woojin’s hands linger on her shoulders, gently massaging. “Do you like it?” he asked uncertain. Min-ah turned to look up at him. “It’s beautiful. I love it,” she said with a smile.

Woojin leaned down, pressing a tender kiss to her lips before pulling back as the chiming of a clock sounded from deep within the house. Woojin pulled his watch out and checked it. “It’s getting late,” he said, tucking the watch back in his pocket. “I need to get you home,” he said, helping Min-ah with her chair as she stood. 

Woojin led her out of the dining room and into the foyer before going to retrieve their coats. Once Min-ah was in her coat, he led her out of the house and down the front steps, unlocking the gate and escorting her back to her home in Blush Gardens. Night had fallen, with only the lamps and the light of the moon to illuminate their path. The walk took much shorter than Min-ah expected.

Soon, they were stopping outside the front door of her family’s home. Woojin pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Go on in,” he said, caressing her cheek and watching as she unlocked the door and stepped into the warm foyer of her own home. Min-ah gave him a wave as he headed down the steps and up the street, disappearing into the dark. She turned to find her father peering into the hall from the kitchen.

“Oh,” Min-ah said with a smile. “Good evening, Father,” she said, walking to greet him. Her father pulled her into a hug, a smile on his own face. “Daughter,” he said, giving her a once over. “And where are you been?” he asked. “I had dinner with Woojin,” Min-ah said, noticing the bright smile that overtook her father’s features. “Ah, good,” he said before patting her shoulder. “Well, it’s getting late,” he said.

“Go on and get ready for bed,” he said, his words interrupted by the annoying tone of his wife, slurring her words as she stumbled into the hall from the kitchen, the brown liquor in what was probably her twentieth glass of the day sloshing around and spilling onto the hardwood floors. “You’ve been at our son-in-laws?” she asked, her tone a bit louder than necessary. Min-ah forced a pleasant smile.

“That’s right, Mother,” she said before starting to turn away. “Don’t turn away from me,” her mother said but her father intervened. He turned to give her a look. “Go on upstairs. I’ll take care of your mother,” he said reassuringly. Min-ah nodded and turned away from her parents. She headed for the stairs, taking them up to the third floor. Min-ah entered her room, shutting the door and starting to strip.

She had just removed her coat when there was a knock at the door. Sooyun entered, curtseying before hurrying over to help Min-ah remove her dress and corset. “How much has she had to drink today, Sooyun?” Min-ah asked. “More drinks than I could count, ma’am,” she said softly. Min-ah heard the front door open followed by silence as Sooyun helped her into her nightgown. She grabbed a robe and walked to the door, cracking it open and peering out the crack.

She could hear her mother’s high pitched tones as she spoke in a babying tone. “Min-ki,” she cooed. ‘Min-ho,’ Min-ah thought and in an instant, she threw open her door as Min-ho was making his way upstairs. He glanced at her and gave her a faint smile. Min-ah returned it as arguing escalated between her parents. Min-ah returned to her room, bidding Sooyun a goodnight and quietly, she got into bed.

A few moments later, everything grew quiet outside Min-ah’s room, allowing her mind to finally wander. She extinguished the light beside her on the bedside table, throwing the room in darkness. Settling back into the covers, it didn’t take long for Min-ah to drift off to sleep, forgetting momentarily what tomorrow brought with it.

previous || next

[beamsmom]

Fics I've written for sunakomo week 🌻 it's completed you can find em here

Day 1

Prompt: "it's nice to meet you"

Suna's POV 

A denim jacket over the shaggy sweatshirt that has life-changing lines imprinted on it, no gender just swag, that's what it reads, the broken amends of the crucified ripped jeans that my parents hate, I proudly wear those and I pick up my skate, glancing one last time in the mirror.

 "Uhh, how am I still single? " 

Yeah, my very first thought. 

I swirl around to some beats, throwing some TikTok dance steps. I open my window and slip down my skate in between my arms, trying to step out numb on my toes keeping it quiet as much as I can and my one foot trip on the roof and my body rolls down through the slanted wood and hugs the holy mother earth echoing a thudding sound while my limbs pain me down. 

I shouldn't be outside at this hour, wait what time is it again ?, gazing up at the sky I reckon the moon's position.

"It's 2 or 3 AM"

I embark on finding my skate and my eyes catch a scene that hurts me more than my back. 

Some dog is chugging on my skate. It isn't some normal dog, it's the most beautiful creature, a pitbull. That thing has the aura of some ragious God dog. I step forward and horror rapidly runs throughout my spin. 

What a great day. I spread my lips wider ready to start a fight with the dog's owner. I swivel my head on either side scavenging them.  I'm not really a ragious person but I'm off beat now and then and that's now and then is too often. 

I kneel and give the damned dog an astounding smile. " You aren't eating my skate, give me my skate, please" and the dog growls right at my face, rendering its sharp fangs, daring me to open my mouth again. I waved both hands in the air, accepting my defeat. 

Okay, somehow it appears mad, his eyes are red bloodshot and he leers ragious and that thing engraved its fangs deeper on my plain Rick and Morty mimed board. 

Ouch ouch ouch 

Enough with playing the nice guy, I'm gonna have to do what has to be done. I hold the other side of the skate and force it towards me. 

Why the hell is this small shit so strong? Why isn't his owner around?? 

"Give me my skate," I yell and it barks at me. 

"See dog-" it barks again but this time it's louder. 

"See, SIR, I'm already sneaking out, if you're barking, gonna wake my parents up, I'm going to be grounded for a couple of months and we don't want that, do we ?" 

"Give me my skate, you piece of sh-t, wait, once your owner gonna be here, they'll pay for your deeds, f-ckface" 

I hear someone from the back. I cocks my head in their direction. It's bland and dark. I can't see anything but a stepping silhouette and his voice sounds ethereal.

Why am I getting carried away, I have to yell at them? 

"I'm so sorry," he says, bowing down. 

A boy who is probably of my age, he's wearing a tee which goes as yes I'm wearing a meme and white sweatpants. Adorable.

"Wait-, you didn't give me a chance to be mad at you" I pour, crossing my hands at my chest. 

"What?" he obliviously stares at me through his lashes. 

"I mean, nothing" I choke up on my own words, and all of sudden my heart beats fast and it's about to come out of my mouth. His face, his damned face. I never thought it could be possible to feel this physical attraction to someone. Wait are we gay panicking over a stranger, yess most definitely we are. 

He hesitantly pierces his lips together and our eyes meet and I have always been competitive in everything, so I have no intention of breaking it. He twitches the corner of his mouth and walks towards me. He leans down, plucking the other side of the skate from my hand.

"Ponny, please baby take this out of your mouth, see I can't do this in the middle of a night, please, you're causing trouble to them" 

The dog finally let go of the skate and oh god and the condition of it. I can cry a river just right there. He pats his dog and puts back his leash.

He is too sweet, if it were my pet I probably would've yelled and snatched the thing away without even thinking. 

"Hey I'm so sorry, ponny can get hard sometimes. She's just too much to deal with, I'm so sorry, I'll pay for your skate"  his eyes are apologetic. He appeared genuinely upset about my skate. 

"No it's fine, I can fix it" I try to soothe him. Although I respectfully su-k at comforting people, it's the effort that counts. So bare with me.

"For real ?" He beams at me and I see sprinkles and stars in his eyes and oh man he's the human version of a golden retriever. 

~~a part of me want to pat his head so bad~~ 

"Yeah, I just have to change the board and repaint it" I replied, picking up my broken board.

"I can help you with that," he sings.

"Um, honestly you don't have to go through all that because of me" 

"No, no it's fine"

"Well, we can meet at my house after school, I guess"  

"Yeah sure," he enunciates.

"You know I used to have a pet as well" for the first time, I tried to hold a conversation with someone. So I thought it'd be great to tell him a story about my pet hamster.

"Yeah?" he replied, exhibiting a smile.

"His name was hamster" 

"You name your hamster, hamster," he asks and I nod in response, cause the choice I had was to either call him the rock or the hamster, I chose the one I liked the most.

"Well it was better than calling him the rock" 

He laughs and I catch myself staring. He is intriguing.

"I'm Komori motoya" he offers a handshake.

I take his all small fingers under my hand's embrace, "I'm suna rintaoru" 

"It's nice to meet you, rin-san" 

"It's nice meeting you too" 

"So I guess I'll see you tomorrow ?" 

"Yeah you will" 

"Night komo" 

"Good night" 

I turn back and crash into someone," watch out moron" if I've known the words that are going to slip out of my mouth are my last words I would have chosen them more wisely. My mum is standing there, exhibiting no emotions, "rin". Oh god. 

"Hii mum, what are you doing outside at this hour," I say, trying to break the awkwardness creeping up in the environment. All of a sudden I can sense the humidity in the air, my shirt clings to tacitly on me. 

"You're grounded for a month," she warns. 

"Yes ma'am, wait it's like I can't go out but someone can come in, right ?" 

"Well, I guess" 

"Sure" 

She quirks a brow towards me, " have you found someone? I mean finding out romantically since you've never asked that question and I'm speaking from my experience of grounding you several times"

"Perhaps, that's something is for the future" 

"Don't get hurt, okay ?"

"Don't play the nice mom after grounding me for a month" 

She shakes her head and gestures to me to get back inside.

The end

[jaepies]

𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙙𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙙𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙢𝙨 - attack on titan

eren x fem!oc

attack on titan au

inspired by 'see you in my 19th life' webtoon

author's note ; eunji is the 18th life name whilst hyejin is her general name :)

intro : sweet summer day

─━━━━━━⊱✿⊰━━━━━━─

memories are strange entities. they lay dormant in the cave we call the mind until all of a sudden - something as minuscule as a waft of a scent walks by, triggering a forgotten incident from decades ago.

as humans, we wonder about the memories of our previous lives which remain with our souls eternally. we ask questions about: who were we? how did our past selves use to act? perhaps they were delinquents who wreaked havoc on the neighbourhood or perhaps they were a pair of goody-two-shoes who could do no wrong.

maybe we even had a significant other whose love used to fill our days with boundless bliss?

it all seemed like a classified secret which the brain could never gain access to no matter how hard it racked all its neurones in an attempt to search for all the answers.

however, hyejin ban must have been a glitch in the system.

when her first life occurred, she didn't think much of it and lived it to the fullest as much as a working-class girl could in the 1800s (society was something of a different nature in those time). she grew up with plenty of friends and siblings, fell in love with a boy who had lived next door and worked as an average house-wife whilst the husband provided the money required to live comfortably with not much to worry about except for disease.

to say that hyejin was surprised when every detail of her previous self came flooding back to her would be an understatement. there is no word in the english dictionary to describe the shock which devoured her.

she had heard conspiracies of those who claimed to remember fragments of their past lives in her village before however she never thought them to be a thing of truth. it was as if all the memories had been transferred onto a hard drive and inserted into her new body, making her age at least 80 years as her 'life' flashed right before her juvenile eyes.

nonetheless, she tolerated having two sets worth of memories and had a rather quiet, peaceful existence with only her family to bid her a farewell as she silently passed. she watched as the 19th century came to an end and the world transitioned into a new one, marking an end of an era.

flash forward a few more lives and her soul had endured more than anyone could ever comprehend. each body presenting a new perspective on the mixed bag of earth. each body which she took on was distinctly different from the last as all her lives came in all different shapes and sizes as well as randomising which gender she was. from world wars to famine to milestones such as the first man walking on the moon, hyejin's mind remembered it all. only to leave it behind as the never-ending cycle of death and reincarnation continued.

some lives were shorter than others as unfortunate environments cut the thread of life much too soon, leaving much of the life to fall to the pits of hell. sometimes hyejin was treat unfairly as she suffered the struggles of poverty and faced many of the evils which the world had to offer. yet instead of living filled with resentment and agony, she took these as opportunities to grow wiser as a being. eventually, school became repetitive as the knowledge taught had already been ingrained within her.

as hyejin became used to her circumstances and gained a better understanding of what was happening, she set rules to live by. one of which was to let go of any burdens and troubles of past lives which could mental strain to her present and subsequent self.

﹝•••﹞

hyejin was rebirthed for the 18th time as 'eunji yun' and quickly she learnt that she had been born with a silver spoon in her mouth. she grew up surrounded by maids ready to cater for her every wish and need, it was a life where money would never be an issue and her family showered her more love than she had ever encountered before.  at the age of 6, her family brought a younger sister into the world who not before long began to mean the absolute world to <> and she took it upon herself to fill the other half of the parental figures that was left empty by her hard-working father.

the sun was shining brightly when hyejin's mother guided her to the family car, telling her vaguely that she had business with another mother at another household not too dissimilar from theirs. the girl let her curiosity get the better of her and asked why she had to come along - her mother just turned to look at her with a mischievous glint in her eye and replied with a face plastered with a simple smile that held no information. hyejin despite being wise beyond her years reacted with a childish sigh and dramatic slump in her seat as the car started to drive away.

soon a house in the distance came into view, the car slowing down as the wheels entered the extensive drive. hyejin thought her house had been grand however this house was the epitome of luxury even the air had the distinct smell of the rich. on the journey, she had been told this was the residence of a wealthy chairman whose son was of a similar age to her.

upon walking in she couldn't help but gasp from the grandiose of it all, the chandeliers hung on the ceiling twinkling away as the striking staircase sat in the centre of the foyer. her awe was shattered as she heard a chuckle infused with honey from a woman whose aura held as much awe as the impressive atmosphere of the interior did.

'you must be miss eunji yun, what a pleasure to meet you. i'm carla jeager.'

'pleased to make your acquaintance, thank you for inviting my mother and i to your household.'

all the etiquette lessons were quickly put into action as hyejin's voice uttered the stock response which she had practised numerous times growing up.

carla found the amusement in this textbook conversation and responded with another sweet chuckle

'no need to be so formal, your mother and i are very good friends, please make yourself at home.'

she spoke with such a heart-warming tone that felt so down to earth, it was like listening to melodic tunes of birds chirping - you wouldn't believe that her family was one with the highest status and wealth.

'carla, should we brew a pot of tea?'

her mother interjected whilst handing over her faux fur jacket to the maid who had discreetly made their way beside hyejin in the foyer. she had not even noticed that she had already slipped off her diamond-encrusted heels.

'ah, what a good idea! let's move to the kitchen'

eagerly the pair of mothers walked side by side already engrossed in a different conversation it was clear that they had much to catch up on.

swiftly after pulling her sneakers off, hyejin started to take a few steps before carla turned around, halting her,

'there's no need to follow us, i'm sure you would have a far more entertaining time with my son who you will find in the library up the stairs. will you be able to find your way?'

hyejin hadn't noticed the glow which consumed her eyes as she smiled at her, there was an extremely low probability that she wouldn't do what carla had asked of her.

'of course ma'am, don't worry too much about me and please proceed with your intended business.'

as hyejin heard the receding the steps of the mothers she couldn't quite help but catch wisps of their conversation.

'she conducts and speaks so eloquently for a 12-year-old.'

'sometimes i forget that she's even a child at all.'

holding onto the handrails, she looked back with a knowing smile as she began her descent up the stairs. following carla's instructions, the library was easily found. the walls filled to brim with all types of books from fairytales to encyclopedias on insects and ladders at every corner to aid with the books at the very top shelf that was too high for even the tallest of humans. the centre of the room held plush sofas and chairs clearly carefully chosen for the purpose of being able to read enjoyably.

hyejin's eyes fixed themselves onto a figure, not much taller than the 3rd shelf, desperately trying to grab at a book that was just out of his reach. his tiptoes only doing so much to increase his height, the girl scoffed in amusement at the sight in front of her and strolled over to the black-haired boy.

'need a hand?'

she hadn't meant for there to be a snarky tone however the words which tumbled out appeared as condescending when in reality she had just wanted the tiny boy who had yet to have a growth spurt.

'who are you? i don't need any help.'

his brows were furrowed together and his voice filled with defensiveness - hyejin thought to herself that it would be entertaining to watch this stuck up boy act in a childish manner.

going against the prideful boy's wishes, she reached over his head to slide the book that he wanted out of the bookshelf.

it wasn't long before reams and reams of disgruntled refusals came flowing out his mouth.

'get out of my way'

well, he was certainly direct with the way he spoke and with his words.

'you're in the way-'

the exasperated boy did not get to finish his second rude remark before being smacked on the face by the book which he had so urgently wanted.

this is what you most definitely call karma.

'you should mind your manners kiddo'.

it barely took a second before an ear-splitting screech encompassed the whole house.

─━━━━━━⊱✿⊰━━━━━━─

[takadasaiko]

Second Chances (Endgame fix-it fic)

FFN II AO3

Summary: Steve has every intention of returning the Infinity Stones to their correct place in the timeline and heading back to his own. His problems start when he makes an impulse decision to jump over to 1946 and Peggy decides to go back home with him. It only gets more complicated from there when Howard tags along with them to 2023.

Chapter One

He wasn't sure what he'd expected or if he'd expected anything at all really. He hadn't had time to think about it as he'd stared down his own living nightmare that threatened everyone and everything that he loved. A cheap trick and a cheesy one liner… funny thing, it really did sum him up in the end.

As the world faded away, Pepper's forced smile the last thing Tony saw, something else he couldn't quite make out started to take its place. Apparently this is what death was. Good to know. Maybe he'd see Nat. Get a chance to tell her they won and that the others were safe. Or maybe he'd see his parents. There was a lot he'd like to say to his father, and none of it what he would have said just a few years before. He loved him. He knew he'd done his best. It had been cathartic a few years ago to say those words in a simulation, but after meeting him in the past he thought he believed it now. He wanted to believe it now. Maybe his father would actually be proud of what his son had become.

The face that greeted him wasn't his fathers. It wasn't his mother or Natasha's. That quiet, knowing smile reached his eyes in a way Tony had never seen in life, and he felt himself echo it just a little. "Yinsen."

The older man nodded over to a table with a backgammon board laid out, two barrels like the ones they had sat on in the cave so many years before set up for them. Tony wasn't sure if it had been there a moment before but, to be fair, he wasn't even really sure where he was.

"A middle ground of a sort," Yinsen answered the unspoken question and took a seat.

Tony followed, sitting opposite of him and watching him carefully. "Like Purgatory?"

"Not quite."

Well that wasn't helpful. He let his gaze sweep the space as Yinsen set the board. As far as he could see they were the only ones there.

"Stark."

He turned back, startled by the tone that sounded like he had called his name a couple times before he had actually heard it, and saw the set of offered dice in Yinsen's outstretched hand. "I don't get it."

The older man lifted a single brow in an amused expression. "I seem to remember you having a good grasp on the rules of the game."

"I mean why I'm here."

"To play. And to talk. I have missed out talks, Stark."

Tony swallowed hard, finally taking the dice and rolling. 6-3. Not bad. "Me too," he confessed softly as Yinsen picked them up. "A lot's happened."

"I know." He rolled, landing only one point lower. "Tell me."

"Tell you what?"

"Everything. We have time."

Tony pushed a long breath out through his nose and reached for the pieces for his move. As they played, he spoke. He told Yinsen about getting home, about how he'd found out that his mentor was the one that had been selling his weapons under the table and how it had been the attack on Gulmira that had pushed him to creating the Iron Man suit. He told him about Pepper and Rhodey and Happy, the Avengers, and about Harley and Peter. About Morgan. His breath caught at his daughter's name and his jaw clenched, trying to keep some semblance of composure. He hadn't had a chance to say goodbye to her. Not really. He'd left a video in case the worst happened, but it wasn't the same. He'd never see her again. Never be able to hold her and tease her. He wouldn't get to watch her grow up or go to school. He wouldn't get to watch he change the world like he knew she would.

"So," Yinsen murmured, "you're a man that found everything."

Tony cleared his throat, struggling to find his voice. "Guess I did."

"Then what are you doing here?"

Tony looked up from where he was clutching the dice. "Because I did whatever it took to save them," he answered.

"And you died a hero."

"I died to save them."

"You've come a long way, Stark. You certainly didn't waste your life."

"You gave me a second chance. I took it." He tosses the dice down.

"So that's it?"

Tony looked up at him as the dice settled out in the board, not bothering to look down. "What'dya mean?"

"I seem to remember a stubborn streak in you. One that wouldn't give up so easily."

"Not really my call anymore, is it?"

Dark eyes flickered down to the board. "Isn't it?"

Tony followed his gaze down to the dice to see the winning roll. His lips quirked up, but the snarky comment died on them at the kind smile Yinsen wore. The younger man blinked hard in question, but as he opened his eyes he found himself in a completely different setting.

He was flat on his back and staring at a ceiling directly above him. The lights were too bright, the sound of the machinery deafening, and he couldn't breathe. He tried to reach up to his throat, but found his right arm unresponsive and his left tethered to…. something. He wasn't sure what yet. Every last thought was consumed with the understanding that he was choking and he needed to make it stop.

Another alarm sounded as Tony tugged harder against whatever was tying him down, fingers finding something long and smooth inserted into his mouth and supposedly running down his throat. Getting it out was the next goal.

He could hear shouting in the distance and his name broke through the gaze of it. Mr Stark was followed by Tony. That voice. That voice he knew.

Pepper didn't seem to care what the people around her were telling her to do. She pushed past a man in a white coat and Tony felt her hand catch his as she came into his line of vision. "It's okay. Tony, babe, it's okay. Just breathe."

He couldn't. That was the problem. There was something…. he tried to reach for his throat again, but she wouldn't let go. Instead she pulled his hand up, pressing a kiss to his fingers. "It's a breathing tube, Tony. You're okay. It's there to help."

"Ma'am, we need to-"

She shot the owner of the voice a glare that silenced him instantly, her expression softening as it turned back to him. "Hey. Look at me." He did, feeling some of the panic subside. "You're in the hospital. We made it. You're okay. You're going to be okay."

Tears stood in her eyes, but her smile wasn't forced. It was relieved, and slowly the pieces started to fit into place. He was alive. If Yinsen had been there or not, he couldn't be sure, but somehow he had managed to hang on until they had gotten him help. He tried to whisper her name, but only managed to choke against the tube again and she squeezed his hand. "I'll be right here when you wake up," she promised and moved so that he could see a doctor pushing medication into the IV. It didn't take long until he felt himself slipping back under.

                                                      ____________

They hadn't been able to tell her when or even if he would wake up. Pepper had ushered Peter out of the room for a much needed cup of coffee ten minutes before, knowing that if she didn't make the kid stretch his legs he would sit there all evening with her. It had become their ritual over the last two weeks: he would get off of school and immediately hop the train from Queens to Manhattan. A few days she was pretty sure he showed up before the school day should have ended, but she couldn't bring herself to chastise him over it. Peter would sit with Tony while Pepper would take Morgan for dinner and connect with Happy or Rhodey so that one of them could take her for a bit so that she could return to the hospital room. It wasn't like she was going to go home and sleep in her own bed anyway. That's when Peter was expected to head home, but he rarely did. There had been several nights that he'd fallen asleep in the chair and wouldn't budge. Pepper tried to get him moving when she could bring herself to do it, but she understood. She didn't want to leave him either.

And the one time she had he had woken up in a panic, fighting the tube down his throat and nearly hurting himself. Pepper shook her head as she stepped out into the hall where she'd left the kid. Leave it to Tony to wake up with a bang.

Steve Rogers stood with him, but Peter's attention tore over to her instantly and he stood. "Is he okay? Is he-?"

"He's alright," she assured him quickly, offering Steve a quick nod to greet him. "The doctors needed to sedate him to get the tube out and check on him. They said he'll be in and out, but we should be able to see him as soon as they're done."

She could see the relief flood through him in the way the tension left his shoulders and they sagged, the weight of the last couple weeks leaving the teenager looking as tired as Pepper felt. "Good. That's good, right? So he's out of the woods? Dr Palmer said him waking up would be a good sign, right? So he'll be okay?"

Even exhausted, his energy was overwhelming. "Yes, she seemed to think so. Steve, how are things going on your end?"

"I think we've got everything in place," he answered. "Bruce is running some last minute tests on it this evening. Or was. He's on his way over now."

"He's not thinking of going himself, is he?" Pepper asked. She knew he felt responsible for returning the stones, but between his own injuries and the fact that he'd been instrumental in saving Tony's life with his research into gamma radiation, she didn't want to think about the possibility of losing him in this. Ten seconds on their end, from what she understood, but what if something went wrong? They needed him. Tony needed him. He was awake, but that was really only the start on the road to recovery.

"Oh, no. He's staying here. I'm taking them. First thing in the morning if everything stays on course. That's why I wanted to…" Blue eyes darted past her and she couldn't help but think of the strained relationship that he had had with her husband the last handful of years. They'd put it behind them to finish this, but she could see why he might question what that meant now that it was over. No one held a grudge quite like Tony Stark, but no one forgave like him either.

Pepper reached out, her light touch pulling him around. "If you have a little bit, I'm sure he'd love to see you."

He flashed her a hesitant smile. "Thank you."

Several of the medical staff filed out of the room and a doctor stopped. "Ms Stark? He's coming back around if you wanted to-"

Peter was nearly a blur as he bounded towards the door, slamming to a stop before he crossed the threshold. "I, uh….. you should probably see him first," he said awkwardly.

"How about together?" she offered and his face lit up.

"I'll wait out here until you've had some time with him," Steve offered and Pepper managed a grateful smile as they ducked in.

The doctor followed her as Peter moved towards his mentor with as much restraint as he seemed able to cobble together. Pepper watched Tony's lips twitch up on the left side, the burns on the right side of his face making it difficult for him to smile fully. The doctor at her side spoke quietly, explains that Dr Palmer would want to do a more thorough examination as soon as she was in, but his vitals looked as good as could be expected. As they had anticipated, he had very little movement in his right arm and the burns that stretched down his right side would hinder mobility. Physical therapy would be required to get any sort of movement back and they had already sent Dr Banner the newest set of information so that he could adjust his own treatments that he'd prescribed that had kept Tony alive.

Pepper half listened, but found her attention tapering off to the excited teenager that was telling Tony some story with a full range of motions, hands flying and he was bouncing just a little. He didn't stop until Tony reached his left hand up, clumsily reaching for him. The dam seemed to break as the teen took it and tears started to spill over. "I was so scared, Mr Stark."

"Ms Stark?"

"Yes?" Pepper answered automatically.

"Is there anything else?"

"No, thank you. For everything." She waited until he was gone and steeled herself. Tony already had one blubbering person leaned over him. She'd be damned if she made it two.

Poise carefully back in place she crossed the room and found a set of dark eyes on her. "Hey, Pep," he greeted hoarsely and her poise shattered cracked instantly. Peter had the good sense to move out of her way as she circled around and took his outreached hand. "Those tears aren't for me, are they?"

The laugh escaped and she leaned down, pressing a kiss to the side of his mouth. "I thought we'd lost you."

"Too much to come home to," he answered. "You okay?"

"Yeah."

"Morgan?"

"She's with Happy. They're on their way."

Tony gave the smallest of nods. "Can't wait to see her."

"There'll be plenty of time." She glanced back at the door. "Steve's here."

"Cap?"

"Yeah."

"Huh." The sound was quiet and he seemed to be settling back into the pillows a little deeper.

Pepper's phone buzzed, signaling Happy's arrival. "I'm going to go get Morgan. You want me to send him in?"

Tony gave the barest of mods and she caught Peter by the jacket sleeve. "Why don't you come help me?"

"What? You don't need me to-"

"Give them a moment," she pressed and Peter seemed to clue in and nodded, following her out of the room.

                                                     ____________

Steve lingered at the door, blue gaze fixed on what looked like a sleeping man inside. Not for the first time he was struck at how many similarities there were between Tony and his father, even now that Tony was a good twenty-five years older than Howard had been when Steve had first met him. Stubborn, brilliant, and oftentimes reckless, it was hard not to care about the man, even when he drove him up the wall.

A pair of brown eyes very similar to Howard's cracked open and Tony offered a small wave. "Cap."

"Hey," the older man greeted as he crossed the space. "How're you feeling?"

"Oh, I'd say I've been worse, but I outdid myself this time." The rough chuckle ended with a cough and a wince. "Rumour is that I'll live."

"You better. Not sure the world could survive without you."

That earned him an amused snort. "Better stop playing hero, huh?"

"I said that a long time ago," Steve countered, not sure if Tony was being serious or not.

"And I never got an apology for it."

There it was. The blond shook his head, chuckling. "Seriously, Tony. I'm glad you're okay."

"Thanks. You too." He cleared his throat. "Kid said you're taking the stones in the morning?"

"Yeah. That's the plan."

"Good. No reason to screw with time any more than we have. Maybe that'll help set it straight."

"We hope so."

"We've probably messed with time enough," Tony said softly, but his gaze flickered up, catching Steve's. "No regrets though. I think we did good, all things considered."

"We did. Listen, Tony -"

"Daddy!"

The squeal from the door drew both men's attention and Morgan Stark bounded into the room, her mother right behind her. "Remember what I said. Gentle."

The little girl slowed down by the bed, but didn't stop. She was just careful as she climbed up. "I knew you'd wake up," she told him and Tony's smile was soft.

"Yeah? You tell them all that?"

"Yeah."

"C'mere," he prompted and she instantly snuggled down against him, burrowed into his uninjured shoulder and holding on tight. Tony looked back up to Steve. "I'll see you when you get back, yeah? Try not to get lost. We need you."

The words hit hard, the meaning even harder. The forgiveness was stretching on past necessity. Tony was choosing it, not just resigning to it. Steve offered him a smile. "I'll be back before you know it," he promised and turned to leave his friend with his family gathering around him. He would be okay. He might never be made physically whole again, but he'd be okay. After being willing to fall on the grenade for them, he deserved that much at the very least. Now it was Steve's job to make sure that others didn't suffer because of what they had had to do.

                                                     ____________

TBC

Notes: I have been trying to tell this plot bunny no for too long and it just wouldn't listen, so here we go.

Next time: Steve's trip does not go as planned for anyone involved.

[umbrahighpriestofgiratina]

Pallete

Here it is, my entry to the Origins Kanto contest on the Serebii forums. I had to do some edits to try and fix the more glaring flaws the judges pointed out, but I liked how it turned out regardless. The following fic is written like a children's fable, influenced heavily by too much Okami and Undertale on the author's part. Presenting, Palette

--------- KANTO, LONG LONG AGO ----------------- Sunlight filtered through the trees on a warm summer evening. Pidgey chirped, Caterpie crawled, it all seemed normal. In reality, the various forest Pokemon were trying to avoid setting off the gods in their midst. In a clearing in the forest, three majestic birds- one red, one blue, one yellow - perched across from a pink sprite, between them a plate of food. "Thanks for taking us out to a picnic!" said the yellow bird, Zapdos, to the pink sprite, a Mew. "The food is quite lovely," said the blue bird, Articuno. "And you probably needed time off from your duties as Kanto's chief guardian." "This event is peaceful, yet full of passion!" said the red bird, Moltres. The Mew chuckled. "Glad you're all enjoying this!" Shortly after, however, she worriedly glanced over at a pot set aside from the food, one stewing with some strange energy. "What is that?" asked Moltres. "Er, hehe," said Mew, "that's Giratina's special sake brew! I was going to deliver it to my father Xerneas after this!" "Sake? Neat!" said Zapdos. "Hell yeah! I could use a drink!" said Moltres. "Don't mind if I do," said Articuno. "Wait, wait, don't-" said the Mew. Too late. The legendary birds had tipped over the pot. Instantly a black sludge spilled out and started spreading rapidly and seeping into everything. The legendary birds and the Mew flew upwards in a panic and watched in horror as the blight spread as far as the eye can see, draining color from everything it touched. "Well," said Mew. "What I was about to say is that when not properly refined by my father Giratina's special brew has some... reality-warping effects. And you three spilled enough to curse and drain the color from the entire Kanto region!" Zapdos cowered as much as he could in midair. Moltres looked around nervously while Articuno merely sighed. "We're sorry!" said Zapdos. "We didn't mean to unleash a curse!" "This can be fixed, right?" said Moltres, looking around at the color-drained landscape. "No point in panicking," said Articuno. "Let's hear what Mew has to say." "I know what to say all right. As punishment, you three are going to fix this." "Er, roger that," said Zapdos. "'We'll get it done in no time!" said Moltres. Articuno sighed. "This is going to be a headache..." ------------- The color-drained landscape stretched on and on. The three birds were increasingly intimidated by the sight of it, and as time went on Zapdos started to lose hope. "Geez... We really messed up, huh... I dunno if it can be fixed." "It'll be fine," said Moltres, "We just gotta do what Mew said and find something to restore color with." "Question is where..." said Moltres. It was then the bird trio heard a loud whimpering. "Er, is that you, Moltres?" said Zapdos. "Why would it be me?!" said Moltres. "Look, over there," said Articuno, pointing to the ground with a foot. There where Articuno pointed was a small, quivering, colorful lump. ...Wait, colorful? "Hey!" said Zapdos, "we can use this to restore the colors!" He swooped down to claim the lump only to be met with a scream. The lump, in actuality, was a child, swaddled in a colorful blanket. Moltres tsked tsked. "Calm down, Zapdos! It's just a kid!" Articuno eyed the child curiously. "Maybe we need a gentler approach..." Things were still for a moment. Then three Pidgey - one red, one blue, and one yellow - fluttered down to the child hesitantly. The child giggled and attempted to pet the Pidgey as they darted out of the way. The yellow Pidgey, Zapdos, looked the kid over. "We need that blanket to bring the colors back... but we can't just take it away from this kid." "Maybe we lead the child where we need them to go?" said Articuno. "Good idea!" said Moltres. The multicolored Pidgey gripped the child and effortlessly started carrying them away. The child giggled the whole while. -------------- The group eventually emerged in a small spot in the trees were a village had taken root; the village consisted of a few small houses surrounding a larger, central one. The color had been drained from all of them, and the people and Pokemon were so drained they looked like uncanny phantoms. "Now what?" said Zapdos. "We should start by restoring color to here, right?" said Moltres. "Question is how," said Articuno. "We have the blanket but little else." Articuno inspected the child. They noticed they were playing at a thread in the blanket butthat seemed to be it. But then they looked closer and noticed it wasn't a thread. "Is... is that a wisp of color?" Indeed, as the viridian wisp drifted down it started restoring color to the grass. "It's so little though... do you think there's enough?" said Zapdos. "Only one way to find out," said Moltres. She grabbed the wisp of color in her Pidgey beak and started spreading it around, soaring over the village. The color dripped down as if paint, filling in the village and surrounding trees. The child laughed and clapped at the spectacle. Soon the whole village had been restored to normal, at the cost of the viridian square of the blanket now being a dull gray. "Ha! Easy!" said Zapdos. "We'll take care of this color thing in no time!" "We'll cover all of Kanto in brilliant colors!" said Moltres. "On to the next village then..." said Articuno. The group headed off. Something in the uncolored areas shifted and twisted. --------- Zapdos was sitting by himself, in Pidgey form, snoozing. Then, however, he felt a poke, and heard a giggle. He opened one eye to see the child peering at him curiously. "Look, kid, you need to be fed again?" The child giggled again. "Ornery aren't you. Kinda like me when I was your age." He stopped and stared. "Lugia that was a long time ago..." The child gave him an odd look, then scooped him up in a hug. The Pidgey-Zapdos squaked but then leaned in. "Heh... This is actually kinda nice..." ----------- The next city the group came upon was a port, one that would be normally bustling and thriving but instead was still and listless from the curse. "Okay," said Zapdos, "we just need another color from the blanket again and..." He tried tugging at a cinnabar patch with his Pidgey beak, but only got thread. "Hey! What gives?" Articuno sighed. "Perhaps we need the right color for the job..." The child clutched the blanket tightly. "Problem is the kid's blanket has a lot of colors," said Moltres, shaking her Pidgey head. "How do we know which is the right one for the job?" "I suppose we look around," said Articuno. And so they did, passing wisps of humans and Pokemon until they reached an awe-inspiring sight: A statue of a samurai and his Arcanine. Zapdos paused to read the inscription at the base of the statue. "Dedicated to Hideki the... the... and his Arcanine companion Kamiya... Something's missing!" "Let me guess," said Moltres, sighing. "It's the solution to this puzzle." Articuno noticed the child had wandered off to play with a Pokemon that was noticeably less wisp-like than the rest; specifically a Growlithe. Articuno hopped over to the Growlithe. "Excuse me, ma'am, we're on a mission; can you tell us more about Samurai Hideki?" The Growlithe tilted her head before barking affirmatively. "Aye! Hideki and Kamiya are very famous around here! They're heroes!" "Did Hideki have a title of some sort? Perhaps a color?" "Oh yeah! The title just got knocked off the statue during the weird color blight! For some reason no one can remember it! I think it started with a V? Pet me!" The child obliged, while Articuno put a wing to their chin in thought. "So a color that starts with V... Viridian? No, we already kinda had that... violet? No, that can't be it..." They noticed a bright red similar but distinct from the cinnabar on the child's blanket. "Wait a minute." They tugged gently on it. A color wisp, not thread, came out. They brought the wisp over to the blanked engraving on the statue. In an instant "Hideki the Vermillion" was restored, and from their color spread out to affect the entire port city in cascading waves. "You did it, Articuno!" said Zapdos. "I sure did," said Articuno, giving a bird smirk. "Pet me!" said the Growlithe. "Come on, guys!" said Moltres. "The rest will be a cinch at this rate!" The group headed out of the port. The non-colored shadows continue to shift. --------- Now it was the child's turn to sit by themself. Zapdos fluttered to their side. "Hey kid." No response. They were just kind of slumped. "What's wrong?" The child looked wistfully off. "...Let me guess you miss your parents." The child nodded. "Well , don't worry. After this color mission is over we'll get you back to them. I promise." The child hesitated, then hugged Zapdos again. Zapdos cooed. ---------- The next town the group came across was another port, and in a similar state to the last. This time, however, the group noticed what in particular was off really quickly: "What's with the water?" said Zapdos. Indeed, the water, which in addition to being drained of color like everything else, seemed to be made of roiling sludge now. "Ick." said Moltres. "Is this some kind of pollution?" "Seems like it," said Articuno. Maybe we should-" Before they could finish their sentence something emerged from the water. It looked like a Seadra, but its features were off, almost distorted. Its nose was stretched out, its fins were the wrong shape, and its scales had a grossly different pattern. Its entire body seemed to be made of strange, tiny, interwoven blocks. Its eyes stared at the group, cold, unfeeling. Then the Seadra lunged at the child as they screamed. Quickly, Zapdos intervened, shifting out of his Pidgey form just enough to zap the Seadra with a Thunderbolt. The Seadra immediately burst into black motes that quickly disintegrated and vanished. The child collapsed, sobbing. "What the hell was that?" said Moltres. "No ordinary Seadra, that's what," said Zapdos. "This color curse also seems to be summoning monstrosities," said Articuno. "We must be careful on our mission." Zapdos glanced worriedly at the crying child. "Are they gonna be OK?" "I think they'll be fine. Kid's been pretty tough so far." said Moltres. "They should still be good to help us with our journey;" said Articuno. "Speaking of..." The child had stopped crying and was starting to stroke the blanket affectionately. A cerulean patch of the blanket had started glowing. Articuno took the glow and placed it on the ocean waves. The glow overtook the ocean, replacing the sludge with crystal-clear cerulean water. The glow then spread outward and onward to the rest of the port town, coloring it anew. "Well our work here is done," said Zapdos. "What about the Seadra monster?" said Moltres. "Creatures like those may very well be lurking in the uncolored parts," said Articuno. "We must be careful." And so off they went. ---------- Once again, Zapdos approached the child when the others were resting. This time, however, he noticed the child trembling. "What's wrong?" The child kept shaking. "Was... was it that Seadra monster?" The child nodded. "Ah, ah geez..." said Zapdos. Here. He tucked his head under the child's arm and cooed. The child started petting him. Despite it all Zapdos thought to himself. Me and the others need to talk. --------- The group at this point was headed through a dark, de-colored forest, with the darkness of the woods and the lack of color and wisp-like mons bearing over them. The child looked around cautiously as the birds carried them, but they weren't the only one that was nervous. Zapdos was worriedly looking between the child, the other birds, and back over and over before he finally spoke. "...Hey guys?" "Yes?" said Articuno. "What is it?" said Moltres. "It's about the kid. Don't you think we're being a little too hard on them?" "What do you mean?" said Articuno. "Well, we've been... Been acting like they're a means to an end," said Zapdos. "Not a person." "That's ridiculous!" said Moltres. "We wouldn't do that, now would we?" "We've been lugging them all over Kanto just stopping to rest, eat, drink and restore color and yet we barely acknowledge them otherwise," said Zapdos. "They're there for the blanket. And they almost got killed back there." "Well, we need them," said Articuno, "and will protect them as needed." "As needed?!" said Zapdos. "That's kinda cold considering we used to be humans once!" There was silence. Moltres shuffled awkwardly. The child looked at them oddly. Articuno sighed. "We will never demean or forget what Pandora Mew and Lugia have done for us." said Articuno. "But Kanto needs us. We will do what we can for the child but the whole is in greater danger." "The whole? The whole is made of individual parts! Every human... Every Pokemon... They're all important! Like... colors in an artist's palette! That kid's part of that just like everyone else!" "Can we just keep going?" said Moltres. "We won't accomplish anything debating how to treat the kid." Indeed the child stopped observing them oddly and started walking ahead. Zapdos ruffled his Pidgey feathers. "Fine..." They left, carrying the child off. And were silent a good while. ------------------- The next town they got to was a dim, bleary town even factoring in the lack of color. The group looked around warily, not sure what to think. A tower loomed in the distance. "Well," said Zapdos, "Where do we start here? This place is spooky." "The tower seems like an ideal spot." said Articuno. "Yeah, seems like a safe bet for... shenanigans," said Moltres. The three approached and entered the tower. It was quiet, and the group could tell from looking around that this was a holy place for honoring the dead. So why did something feel... off? The four advanced slowly. Then they heard a wailing. "Ack!" said Zapdos. "Of course this place is spooky..." "Something's off about it though..." said Articuno. "It sounds like a cry for help!" said Moltres. The group rushed over to find a cowering Haunter. The child giggled and played with the ghost's tail, causing her to wail more. "Is something the matter?" said Articuno. "Monsters!" said the Haunter. "Like us Ghosts but... scarier!" "More of them here?" said Moltres. "We ought to take care of them..." said Zapdos. The Haunter suddenly screamed and dove into its own shadow. "They're coming!" Indeed, several gray, distorted, block-woven Gengar approached. Like the Seadra, they converged on the child, who screamed and hid. Unlike the Seadra, they spoke. Muttering the word "home" in strange tinny voices over and over as they clutched and lunged at the child and their blanket. Articuno and Moltres shifted to their true forms, attacking the bizarre Gengar with ice and fire blasts. Zapdos covered the child with his wings, the monsters trying to pry him off. "I could use a little help here!" he said. "We'd try but they keep coming!" said Moltres. Indeed more and more Gengar kept coming from the shadows, their cacophonous cries of "home" getting louder and louder. Zapdos looked down at the cowering child and saw there was a glowing lavender patch to the blanket. Zapdos took hold of the patch with his beak and threw it at the ghosts. Instantly, they faded away peacefully as the color spread, taking over the whole tower and then the whole town. "You did it!" said the Haunter. "They're go-" She stopped and stared at the three Legendary Birds before her. "Oh great holy ones!" said the Haunter. "Thank you so much for saving us from those abomina-" "Pipe down Rebecca!" said another, male Haunter. "They're probably insulted by you groveling!" "Well I don't see you showing any respect, Wrathbert!" As the two ghosts argued, the birds shrank down to their Pidgey forms, the child giggling and patting their heads. "You should have had your priorities straight," said Zapdos. "We know, we know," said Moltres, rolling her eyes. "At the very least," said Articuno, "we know for sure the monsters want the source of the colors, which also somehow dispel them... And they want something to do with "home"." "Well we're probably not going to find out here." said Moltres. "Let's keep going." And they left the tower. --------------------- This time, Zapdos had dragged the other two birds before the child. "Talk." The child waved. "They don't talk is the thing!" said Moltres, fluffing her feathers indignantly. "They've been silent ever since we met them!" "Calm yourself Moltres," said Articuno. "I think we can work with this." They approached the child, her blue Pidgey form hopping over. "Hello. Do you need something?" The child reached over and pet Articuno. "Ack! That... Oh, that actually feels good." The child started scratching under their chin. "Yes, right there..." "Hey!" said Moltres. "I... I want some!" She scooched over to push Articuno aside, getting pets and scratches herself. "Heh... Guess you were right about the kid being a nice one," said Articuno. Zapdos just gave a big beaky bird grin. -------------- The group eventually reached another town, by the southern coast. It was plain, gray, quiet. Once again something felt off. The birds looked around while the child's face seemed to light up in recognition as they searched for something. The the group heard wingbeats. They looked up to find three monsters in the shape of three beings in particular: Articuno. Zapdos. Moltres. The child, the birds, the wisps in the village. All were paralyzed with fear. Then the monster birds lunged for the child and the blanket. Immediately the true birds shifted to their true forms to ward them off. Each darted to meet their doppelganger - Articuno moved to freeze the monster Articuno's wings with Ice Beam, Moltres attempted to counter the monster Moltres' flames with Flamethrower, and Zapdos tried to fry the monster Zapdos with Thunderbolt. But the monsters barely budged, screaming "home, take us home!" in their tinny voices. "What the hell do you mean by that?!" said Moltres. She looked around and saw the child fleeing, dragging the blanket. "Wait... The color banishes these things... but does it also send them... Home?" In her distraction, however, the other Moltres broke free of her assault and rushed the child, charging up an attack. Moltres panicked and rushed over to grab the child, just as the other Moltres fired a strange-looking Fire Blast. The child was saved. The blanket was not. "No!" said Moltres. Upon seeing the blanket destroyed the monster birds screeched in rage and agony. "Home, you took home from us, you will die die di-" Suddenly they were attacked by a powerful psychic blast, sending them flying back. The birds turned to see the Mew floating in the air above them. "I'll hold them off! Get the kid to their house in this village!" "Which house?" said Zapdos. "...Moltres! Let them lead the way!" said Articuno. Moltres placed the child down and they ran toward one particular house in the village. The door opened. Two women opened the door, saw the child, and embraced them. Everything was still. The monster birds sighed as if freed from an incredible pain and faded away. A wave color spread out not just from the house but to all of Kanto, flowers and trees sprouting alongside it. The birds looked along in awe. "So... What just happened there?" said Zapdos. "I think I know," said Articuno. "The potential to bring color back was not in the blanket, but the potential of the child themself." "Sounds about right," said the Mew. "Heh... Guess you were right, huh Zapdos?" said Moltres. "Aw yeah, I love being right!" said Zapdos. He then looked over to the child and their parents. "...Are they gonna be OK?" "They're with the ones they love," said the Mew. "They'll be fine. Perhaps go on to do great things." "If you say so..." said Articuno. "They look happy at least," said Moltres. "Anyway," said Mew. "You three want to have a normal picnic now?" There were several cries from the birds of "heck yeah" "for sure" and "agreed" before the group flew off. ------------------ "...And that's why even hundreds of years later and even after the Kanto Civil War the towns and cities of Kanto have color names!" "Really?" said the Pikachu. "I don't remember hearing that from my Trainer... Then again he was always the silent type." "Heh, I know what you mean... Pass it on to your teammates at least?" "Oh, I will," said the Pikachu, running off. The Pidgey he was talking to gave a bird smile and stretched his wings. Zapdos flew off. *** As a note "Wrathbert" is a cameo of a character by my friend CorvusAtrox.  And I hope whoever reads this enjoys it!

[indigosandviolets]

If I Didn’t Care - Eugene Sledge x OC(2)

Word Count - 1279

Summary - Lubomyra was an outsider after fleeing from war in 1943, escaping to Troy in the United States. She thought that she was going to live the same life forever until a certain ginger stranger shows up and changes everything.

Song - I’ll Be Seeing You by Frank Sinatra

Part - 2/5

Lubomyra had struggled during the first part of the day, unable to focus in her classes because of the construction going on across the street from her small apartment. She had barely made it through the three-hour-long English class without reverting back to her native tongue, but she pushed through and made it work without a single complaint.

"Good morning, Myra," Anna said as the girl exited the bathroom, day clothes in hand and nametag barely sticking to her after a sloppy job of applying the pin to her shirt.

"Pryvit."

"What's wrong, Myra? Your eyes are dropping."

Myra adjusted her pin before turning to face the older woman. "Construction outside. I believe they were fixing the sidewalk."

Anna sighed. "Well, we've got a big crowd out there for lunch. I've got you on bar duty, do you think you can handle it?"

"Tak."

Myra finished tying her apron around her and Anna patted her on the back, giving the girl a sense of confidence before going out and taking orders. She took each with as much care as she could, putting on a smile every time she saw a new face and was as polite as she could be. No one smiled back until she reached the end of the bar.

"Hello, may I take your order?" SHe asked with a smile, not looking up from her scratch pad until she had finished her sentence.

When she did, she saw the same ginger hair and pale face that she had seen yesterday.

"Just a coffee," The southern man said, prompting Myra to look over at the clock. It was half past noon and not a time for coffee.

"Are you sure?" She asked, looking back from the clock. The young man chuckled, and Myra wasn't sure why.

"I'm sure," He stated, his southern drawl coming forward in his speech. She wrote down the order and walked back into the workroom then too the kitchen, handing off each of the orders and grabbing a mug and pot of coffee, still warm from that morning's orders.

Pouring out the coffee and serving the army boy, Myra became aware of her own accent, causing a lump in her throat. She swallowed and handed the cup back to the ginger.

"Thank you, ma'am."

The same response as the day before, yet Myra couldn't believe she was hearing it. As the day passed on, people came and went from the bar, except for the army boy, who only asked for refills for his coffee. He seemed patient as if he was waiting for someone. Soon, bustling restaurant returned to its normal slowness, and Myra stopped to refill the man's coffee once more.

"Where does the name 'Lubomyra' come from?" He asked her as she tipped the pot of coffee. It was his first words other than an order or a thank you.

"Ukraine. It was my grandmothers'."

The man nodded. "It's very nice."

"Thank you."

Myra finished pouring the coffee and set it down behind the bar, as it was now empty. The man spoke again. "Mine's Eugene."

Myra looked around, seeing there was only one other person at the dinner, so she stopped to talk to him. "Are you in the army?"

"I was. 1st Marine Division in the Pacific."

"You're very brave," Myra said. She remembered her father, a man hardened by his time in the first world war, waking up in cold sweats and screaming curses and incoherent words in the middle of the night, waking up every family member in the small house, sometimes even the neighbors. She wondered if Eugene had those same nightmares.

Eugene shook his head, though. "I had to convince my parents to let me join, and if anything I wasn't."

Myra nodded. "No, you are brave. I have seen what war does to people, I have run from it myself, yet you ran towards the war. You are brave."

Eugene smiled softly. "Thank you."

"I'm only stating the truth."

Eugene took a sip of his coffee before speaking again. "So, how long have you been in America?"

"Three years, it will be four in September."

"Your English is good for only three years."

Myra shrugged. "I suppose," she said before leaning her elbows down on the table. "You have a very southern accent. Where are you from?"

"Alabama."

"What are you doing in Troy?"

Eugene shrugged. "I needed to get outta of my own head."

Myra soon realized what this meant. She glanced over at the other patron, making sure they weren't paying attention before speaking. "My father was haunted by war. He was so fidgety, he couldn't think straight, he would attack you if you came up from behind, he had raging nightmares that could wake an entire village. You're so calm, Eugene, how are you not like that?"

Eugene swallowed. "I'm not calm. I used to hunt, and now I can't even hold a gun without shakin', even if I'm just tryin' to put it away," he stated, his voice getting quieter as he continued to speak. "I'll have nightmares, too. Not as bad as your fathers, though. I really don't think that mine could ever compare to your fathers."

"Kin' der'mo!" Myra shouted, making Eugene jump a little, but no complaint from the kitchen, the staff, or the other patron. "It is just as bad, Eugene. Nightmares are nightmares, and if they are real to you, then they are real."

Eugene smiled. "Thank you, Lubomyra."

"You can call me Myra, that's what everyone else does. I assume it's easier to say."

"That's what people call a nickname, Myra," Eugene chuckled.

"Oh. Do you have one?"

"I have a few. Usually, people will give 'em to you."

"Can I give you one?" Myra asked, to which Eugene nodded.

"Lyubov," Myra stated happily, knowing that Eugene wouldn't know what it meant.

"That's a new one. Lyubov.”

Myra smiled. A silence grew between the pair and a bell rung out from the workroom, signaling the end of Myra's shift. She looked up at the clock and saw that almost five hours had passed since Eugene had ordered his first cup of coffee, making her eyes widen. "Boh! You've only had coffee and you've been here for five hours!"

Eugene shrugged. "You haven't had anything."

Myra started to undo her apron and head back into the workroom before she realized she had left Eugene sitting where he was.

"I'll meet you out in the front!" She called before taking her time slot and punching out before changing into her day clothes. She threw her bag over her shoulder and shoved as many of her textbooks into it as possible before starting to walk out the backdoor, Janet stopping her. Janet had started her shift that day as Myra's ended, meaning she had no idea as to what was going on.

"Why are you in a rush?"

"I'm having a conversation with Eugene!" Myra said happily.

"Who?"

"The army boy from yesterday! He started talking to me and now we're going to talk outside. Tse prekrasno!"

Janet smiled, laughing a little. "You look like you haven't eaten all day."

"I haven't."

"You haven't eaten all day?"

"Ni."

Janet sighed before heading into the kitchen and returning with a large roll, a few inches in size. "You need your strength. Now go and get him."

Myra smiled before walking out the back door and around the restaurant to find Eugene waiting for her.

"I'm sorry if you had to wait long. Janet gave me some bread," Myra explained, breaking off a piece and giving it to Eugene, who accepted it with a grin.

"Oh, I don't mind."

~

Key :

Pryvit - Hello

Tak - Yes

Kin’ der’mo - Horseshit

Lyubov - Love

Boh - God

Tse prekrasno - It’s wondeful

Ni - No

Tags : @smittyjaws @myfreakydeaky @poisonquinzell @justahappylilblog

[thesecretfandom]

American Dream: Part One -- Bughead Au

I. Land of Excess

Word Count: 5,051

Rated: G

A/N: Part 1/3 Bughead 1920′s Au.( Read on AO3) (Part 2 Coming Soon)

"Ethel, have you seen my diamond necklace?" Betty called to her assistant. Betty had hired Ethel six months ago, and she was thus far the best assistant she'd ever had. She was responsible for organizing Betty's latest fashion show, with all the biggest names in fashion in attendance. It was the first fashion show Cooper Fashions had hosted, starring the innovative styles of the young yet top female designer, Elizabeth Cooper.

"You hung it on your vanity, ma'am."  Ethel replied.

"You don't need to call me ma'am, Ethel. You make me sound like an old woman." Betty sighed. She'd insisted when she first hired Ethel that she call her Betty, even Elizabeth, but she still called her ma'am regardless. "Remind me again why I hung a priceless diamond necklace on my vanity? Do I not have a jewelry box?"

"That's what I said last night, and you said that it could stay there because you were wearing it to the theater today."

"I don't know why I question you." Betty lifted the gold chain from where it hung on the spindle of the mirror attached to her vanity. "Be a dear and make sure the car is waiting. I'm almost ready to go."

"Yes, ma'am."

Betty entered the black town car alone, allowing her chauffer to close the door behind her. The New York City streets were busy on that weekend. Young men and women walked the streets, leaving trails of cigarette smoke in their wake. None would admit what they were up to that night, but in the mid-1920s at the height of Prohibition, Betty knew they must be wandering in to one of many speakeasies that were hidden throughout the city.

Betty preferred to keep up her image, avoiding the less savory locations in the city when there was a chance of the paparazzi catching her. She was just establishing herself in an industry thus far held hostage by men, and she would not allow some scandal to knock her out of the spotlight.

The lights from the theater were glowing, sparkling like stars pulled down from the sky. The night sky in New York City grew increasingly dimmer as the years went on. Betty remembered, as a child, visiting the city before the War… before the city lights drowned out her dreams of life on a farm with her childhood sweetheart and replaced them with dreams of fashion, adventure, and forbidden romance.

She was born at the turn of the century, her age always reflected in the year facing her. Now 1924, Betty was successful for her age, but an enigma to her peers. What was a beautiful young woman like her doing without a husband? That was something that Betty herself couldn't answer. A husband was always on her list, but her career was always higher on the list. Her husband, whoever he was, would have to wait.

A red carpet sprawled across the sidewalk from where her car stopped, leading up the stairs into the theater. Her chauffer held out a white gloved hand and as soon as her foot hit the ground flashes of light burst forth from the cameras of the news reporters.

"Miss Cooper, are you with someone?" A hot topic of conversation wherever she went.

"Miss Cooper, how long are you staying in New York?" Less common, but they always wanted to know which city she was headed off to next.

"Miss Cooper, who are you wearing?" The only question that she answered honestly every time.

Betty smiled toward the direction of the question,  the lace of her dress pooling around her ankles. "Myself of course."

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"Mister Jones?"

"What is it, Keller?" Jughead was busy. His newest show premiered tonight and already his lead actress had ripped a seam in her dress and the spotlight bulb had shattered. Luckily, both had remedies. An adequate seamstress and spare bulb would fix all of his problems, if only the damn bulb could be found in the supply closet.

"Elizabeth Cooper is on the red carpet."

Jughead stopped in his tracks. He trained his eyes on his assistant, trying to decide if the young man was lying to him.

"A celebrity is coming to my show?"

"Some may argue that you're a celebrity, Sir." Kevin responded promptly.

"I don't care for flattery, you know this." Jughead was on the move again. If the handyman couldn't find a simple light bulb, he'd have to do it himself. "I wasn't made aware of this when the VIP booths were reserved."

"She didn't reserve a booth." Kevin wrung his hands together. "She came alone with a single ticket, general audience. That's how she slipped through. She had her personal assistant buy a ticket for her."

"Well, move her to a VIP seat then. I would have gladly sent her complimentary tickets had I known."

"That… may be a problem." Kevin shrunk away from his boss when Jughead whirled on him. Kevin hated to be the bearer of bad news, especially with his particularly hotheaded boss. "All of the VIP seats have been reserved by some incredibly esteemed members of society. We can't afford to move anyone."

"Then…" Jughead thought for a moment. "Then put her in my booth. It's the best seat in the house. What are you waiting for? Go!"

Kevin scurried away toward the front of the building, through a small crowd that that had already arrived. Many of the higher class citizens, considered to be celebrities to New Yorkers, had arrived on the red carpet just moments before the esteemed fashion designer. Jughead watched as they entered the theater, seemingly disappointed that their small moment in the spotlight had been stolen away by an international star.

Jughead had first heard of Elizabeth Cooper five years ago, when she was granted her first spotlight at a fashion show in New York at the age of nineteen. She became a celebrated designer with rapid speed. One of few female designers from America, and the youngest female designer in the world to have her first line of women’s formal wear met with rave reviews.

Despite his four year seniority on the young woman, she had found fame much sooner than him. When Elizabeth was jet setting across the globe to various fashion shows, Jughead was struggling with his first big play. While her designs were in high demand, Jughead was begging on his hands and knees in front of potential investors.

His first controversial show was met with mixed reviews, but with a murderous plot line and a mysterious figure pulling the strings, it was a hit that skyrocketed Jughead into the spotlight… quite literally.

"Five minutes to show time! Everyone to your places!" Jughead waited at the center of the stage, just behind the thick, red curtain.

A nervous energy appeared behind him. "Mr. Jones…"

"Now is not the time, Keller." Jughead straightened his tie.

"But…"

"Is this going to affect the show in any way?"

"Well, it-"

"Get backstage, Kevin. Everything is going to be fine."

Once again, Kevin disappeared into the crowd of cast and crew that waited backstage. Jughead slowly pushed through the curtain and stepped into the spotlight at center stage. Through the bright light, he couldn't make out the audience… though he'd been assured it was a full house. Jughead grinned, "Welcome, esteemed guests to the premier of  Land of Excess."

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Betty sat in the sixth row back from the stage, watching as Forsythe Jones took the stage to introduce the show. She could feel the eyes of various audience members watching her with sidelong glances. She'd been offered a seat in a VIP booth by Forsythe's assistant and with much disappointment to him, she'd refused. After all, she'd come to this show at this particular theater for a reason.

As a child, when she'd first visited the city with her parents and siblings, they'd gone to a show at the small theater that had once sat on this land. She was quite young when Peter Pan came to America, and her parents had saved money for something of just the sort. A new theater had been built in its place after the war ended, but Betty still felt like a child again as she sat n the middle of the theater six rows back, just where she had been over fifteen years ago.

This show was much more mature. Set in the present day, it was a rags to riches story about a young woman with a dark past establishing herself as a successful business woman. Amidst a stalker from her past and a new mysterious lover, it was a grand romance that would empower any woman hoping to make her mark on the world. No doubt it would have mixed reviews from the influential theater critics, made up mostly of old men.

By the end of the show, Betty vowed to use her influence to promote the show. Not many shows had a female as the lead, especially when most playwrights were men. She had to give Forsythe Jones props, he always found a way to make his controversial plays strike some cord with a large audience.

Betty waited in her seat long after the show ended until only a few audience members still shuffled around the back of the theater.

"Did you enjoy the show?" A deep voice spoke from stage left, followed by a tall man with dark hair.

"Quite." Betty stood at the arrival  of Forsythe Jones. She'd seen his face in newspapers before, but he was much more handsome in person.

"You are Elizabeth Cooper." He stated, stepping through the rows of seats to stand in the row just in front of her.

"And you're Forsythe Jones."

"Call me Jughead." His lips quirked into a small smile.

"Well, if we're on a nickname basis… you can call me Betty."

She held her hand out to him and he took it happily. His hand was large, enveloping hers completely as they shook.

"I invited you to a VIP booth, did my assistant get in contact with you?"

"Ah, so you noticed." Betty smiled. "Yes, I got the message. However, I paid my modest fee for my carefully chosen seat and I intended to sit there amongst the… peasants."

"Didn't your mother ever teach you not to tease strange men?"

"Are you a strange man, Mr. Jones?"

He didn't respond to this question. Instead, he laughed. Betty raised an eyebrow at him, something about his presence felt familiar; almost comforting.

"I so wish you would have taken my invitation." He laughed. "Your conversation is much more stimulating than Kevin's, my assistant. He's just a bundle of nervous energy most of the time."

"Were you not nervous on your opening night?" Betty found that hard to believe. "I am always nervous out of my mind when I release a new line."

"You see right through me, Miss Cooper."

She was fascinated by his eyes. A deep sparkling blue. There wasn't a lot of color in today's world. Even her own designs tended toward silver and gold trimming on black and white fabric. Perhaps she should consider investing in some blue dyes, or maybe red and green. The new year approached in a few short months, and with it her next line of fashion due to hit the market.

"The night is young. Care to join me for a night on the town?"

Betty smiled a small apology. She knew just what a night on the town meant. "I'll have to politely decline."

"That's a shame." He shifted his weight and began walking toward the exit. "Allow me to give you a ride home. I'd love to hear what you think of the show."

"My car should be waiting." Betty replied, following him toward the exit.

"Let me at least show you my car." Forsythe Jones walked backward down the aisle, his eyes locked on Betty. "It's a gorgeous light blue with a convertible top, though I'll leave the top up since I believe it's getting a tad cold outside."

"A little presumptuous, aren't you?" Betty smiled regardless.

"I have faith in my car. Come on, I had Kevin bring it around front."

Betty followed him, admittedly curious. She'd never been too interested in cars. Her family had never had a personal car. She distinctly remember her first ride being in a taxi after she'd moved to New York to pursue her  dreams. Even now, she owned a car but had never had the courage to drive in the city. Instead, she hired a chauffeur.

The car was beautiful, standing out against the dark city street. It was much more beautiful than Betty's plain black car, which was parked just behind his. Betty noticed the smile in her comrade's eye as she stepped closer to the car. She'd seen some luxurious things in her time, but there was something different about this particular car. Maybe it was the stains of mud swirling around the wheel wells, something  most people with such a nice car and good amount of money would normally keep clean.

"She's beautiful, isn't she?"

Forsythe swept his hand across the hood of the car, rubbing out a water spot with his thumb.

"She?" Betty responded.

"Well, of course." He replied. "Something this beautiful has got to be a woman, don't you think?"

Betty rolled her eyes, something she felt she may do often in the presence of this strange man. "I can't argue with that logic. It is a beautiful car."

Forsythe Jones smiled then, his lips curling up at the corners. "So you're saying you'll let me drive you home?"

Betty grinned in reply. "I never said that."

"You didn't have to." He stepped off the curb and walked around the driver's side of Betty's car, where Reginald Mantle sat waiting to take her home. "Hello, fine sir. I'd like to send you home early with a hefty tip. I'll escort Miss Cooper home tonight."

Forsythe held out a five dollar bill to the young chauffeur, which Reggie, bless his heart, refused to take.

"I'll need to speak to Miss Cooper. She tells me when to go home, sir."

Betty found her way to the passenger window. "It's okay, Reg. Take the money, go home, and don't spend that all at once."

"Thank you, Miss Cooper. My mother will be so grateful."

"Tell her hello from me." Betty smiled. "And also tell her that I'm still waiting for her to come to the office to get fitted for a new Sunday dress."

"I'll tell her, but I won't promise she'll listen. You know she gets nervous around expensive things."

"I'll win her over one of these days." Betty stepped back from the car. "Have a good night."

Reggie waved and waited for Forsythe to return to the sidewalk before pulling out onto the street. Betty watched the car disappear around the corner, even as she felt the presence of Forsythe Jones at her side once more.

"Well said, Miss Cooper. And it looks as if I've won you over as well?"

"Your car won me over." She corrected. "And it's a short ride home."

He walked over to his car and pulled the door open. Betty lifted her dress slightly to step into the car before she was stopped.

"Before you get in, promise me you will at least give me a chance to win you over during the drive."

"Do your worst, Forsythe Jones."

He closed the door behind her and moved swiftly behind the wheel. "Let's start with you calling me Jughead."

"Okay, Jughead. Woo me."

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Betty hooked her arm with Jughead as she led the way to her temporary New York apartment. He'd driven around the block twice after Betty had pointed out her building. She hadn't said anything when he kept driving, so he knew that he had, in fact, won her over on the short drive.

"I'd expected you somewhere a bit more lavish." Jughead said when they stopped at the front door.

"I'm one woman, who spends a lot of time living in hotels and train cars. I don't need, nor do I care for an expensive house that I'll never use."

"Fair enough, I sleep in my office most days. Lately, actually I've been sleeping at the theater."

"All work and no play…"

"I wouldn't say no play. Normally I would try to go out and find some adventure on a Friday night, but something much more interesting came up."

Jughead frowned when Betty pulled her arm away. She reached for the door handle and prepared to go inside.

"I had a lovely time at the show, Jughead. Thank you for the ride home."

"My pleasure." Jughead held his hand out to her and she placed her hand in his. He lifted her much smaller hand, leaving a light kiss on the soft skin. "Can I call on you tomorrow?"

Betty took her hand back and stepped through her door. "You can try."

Jughead spent the rest of the night thinking about those last three words she said. Her confidence may be the most alluring thing about her, but something told him that she was just as interested in him as he was in her. He knew he'd be back the next day, and maybe convince her to have dinner.

His office was cold when he returned. So maybe he hadn't told the entire truth about why it was that he slept in his office. He had a small bed set up in the corner of the loft, a kitchenette set at the back of the room. His desk sat in front of the only window, providing a view of the city streets panning out beneath him.

It wasn't that he didn't want a bigger home, but he was comfortable here. He'd grown up in a one room home with his parents and sister, one that was smaller than the room he currently lived in. Anything bigger he thought would feel empty.

And anyway, he was satisfied with sending his well earned money to his parents so they could afford to give his sister, ten years his junior, an education. Not many women got the chance to go to school, but Jughead had made sure, since his produced his first play, that she would stay in school.

He was ridiculously proud of her, now in her first year of nursing school. She wanted to become a doctor, but would settle for nursing until she could make her case to the dean of the medical college that women should be allowed to study more advanced forms of medicine.

Jughead fell asleep thinking about this. He thought, maybe if tomorrow went as planned he'd one day be able to introduce his sister to Betty Cooper. Betty had managed to make a name for herself in a man's world. She could instill some hope in his young sister.

The morning sun woke him early, a stream of bright light shone across his eyes. He yanked a pillow over his face, begging for sleep to take him back again, but it seemed he was not destined to return to dreamland. In the light of the new day, he felt nervous about his eventual return to Miss Betty Cooper. There was something about the dark of the night that granted him confidence, like she wouldn't see though him to his less than golden past.

Despite his current misgivings, he left his small home late in the afternoon to call on the young woman. His building seemed different in the daylight, and he caught a glance of golden blonde hair in the window above. Jughead smiled to himself; now he remembered why he swallowed his anxiety to take the few short steps to the building's lobby.

"Good afternoon, sir." A man in a suit and bellman's hat stood behind a desk in the lobby, a bright smile on his face. "How can I help you today?"

"Elizabeth Cooper?" Jughead supplied. "Would you let her know that Jughead Jones is here?"

The man nodded and pressed a button on an intercom. He spoke in hushed tones, so Jughead couldn't hear what he was saying to her.

"She wants me to tell you that she may or may not be down in ten minutes, and that you should wait outside."

Ten minutes. Jughead leaned against his car as he watched the time pass as various businessmen walked down the street, briefcases in hand. As ten minutes approached, he started to worry that she wouldn't be coming. Then… something caught his eye. A swatch of pale yellow fabric fluttered out of the window through which he'd seen golden hair ten minutes prior. A leg poked out from under the fabric as none other than Betty Cooper climbed out onto the fire escape.

"I don't remember Juliet climbing off her balcony to meet Romeo." Jughead called out to her.

"Who said I wanted to be Juliet?" Betty replied. "They die in the end you know. An esteemed writer such as yourself should be familiar with the works of Shakespeare, no?"

She was climbing down the metal stairway, careful not to let her dress get caught on any sharp edges. Jughead stepped away from his car, closer to the building as Betty reached the final ladder leading to the sidewalk. The end of the ladder stopped three feet from sidewalk.

"Well, Romeo. Are you going to help me down or not?"

Jughead obliged. He held one hand to her waist, the other to the hand not holding the ladder, and she hopped to the sidewalk. Betty was smiling, her soft features even more beautiful in the day light. Her hair was tied up in a knot on top of her head, a delicate chain around her neck.

"I'll admit, after last night I wasn't sure how you'd respond to my coming here today."

"What can I say? You are a mysterious man, and I need a little excitement in my life." Betty brushed past Jughead and walked around his car.  "It's much more beautiful in the daylight."

"Most things are." Jughead replied.  "Would you be interested in dinner?"

"You have a place in mind?"

"I do." Jughead smiled, opening the passenger door for Better to enter. "And I just so happen to be friends with the owner."

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"It was a disaster!" Betty laughed, recalling a story from her past over a plate of spaghetti. "It was my second fashion show ever, and the first model tripped over the front of the dress and fell right on her face!"

"I don't see how that's something you can control, though." Jughead responded. She knew he was just trying to make her feel better. "It's not your fault she was clumsy."

"Here's what you need to know about the fashion industry." Betty took a sip of her water. "If the model stumbles, it’s the shoes. If the model trips and falls, it's absolutely the fault of the dress. I thought my career was over after that. It was all over the community that I couldn't sew a proper hem length."

"It seems you managed to get past that. At least, you seem to have done pretty well for yourself."

Betty shrugged. It had been a little discouraging to have her name alongside "Fashion Fail" in the newspapers, but she had survived. That one moment that had threatened her career, ultimately only increased her motivation to prove the critics wrong. And now here she was, one of the most successful fashion designers in the world sitting across the table from one of New York's greatest playwrights.

"Are you up for a little excitement tonight?" Jughead spoke again. He had finished his food quickly, and watched as Betty slowly took small bites of her food. Now, however, Betty had finished her meal and assumed he would be taking her home.

"I suppose I can't say no to excitement, especially after I specifically said that was what I was looking for."

"I've got something in mind if you'd like to see?" Jughead raised his hand to signal the waiter.

"I trust you." Betty smiled as Jughead spoke to their waiter.

He asked to give his compliments to the chef and they were led back toward the kitchen. Betty didn't bother to ask what exactly they were doing, but she had an idea. The kitchen was a frenzy of activity, but the chef saw Jughead, shouted some instructions, and then made his was to where they stood by the door.

"Jughead Jones!" The tall man reached out to shake Jughead's hand. "And who is this lovely lady?"

Betty offered her hand to him and the chef placed a soft kiss to her hand.

"The is Elizabeth Cooper, world renowned fashion designer AND my date for the evening so you'd better watch yourself, Sweet Pea."

"Sweet Pea?" Betty questioned.

"It's a nickname, obviously. When you're in a certain business it's better for your clients to not know your real name."

"So I take it you're not just a chef then?"

"Clever." Sweet Pea winked at her then turned his attention to Jughead. "So you're going in then?"

"If you'd be so kind." Jughead crooked his elbow for Betty to link their arms as they followed Sweet Pea to the back of the kitchen where two large metal doors stood side by side. The moved through the door on the left and were escorted into a room cloudy with smoke and smooth jazz crooning from a stage set in the back of the building.

Sweet Pea got the attention of the bartender, speaking quietly so that other customers couldn't hear him. "These two are VIP. All drinks are free tonight for them." He turned to face Jughead. "Try not to make me go bankrupt."

"No worries." Jughead clapped him on the shoulder and Sweet Pea disappeared back to the kitchen.

Betty was more focused on the environment around her than the bottles of alcohol organized behind the bar. A few small tables with a few men and women sitting around each. She suddenly felt like her outfit, long and covered in lace, was entirely out of place. The few other women in the room wore black flapper dresses, a fashion Betty had never given a second thought to, and accessories made of feathers around their necks and on their heads.

"Betty?" Jughead's hand was on her elbow, leading her through the small crowd. "Are you okay with this table here? Close enough to hear the music but not too close that I can't hear you talk."

"Who said I wanted to talk?" Betty teased. She took the seat anyway as Jughead ordered from the bar. He returned with a glass of whiskey for himself and red wine for her.

"I wasn't sure what you would like, so I took the easy option."

"That's fine. Honestly, wine is the only alcohol I've had… and that was usually at church or at home when my sister snuck some her current beau."

"I often forget how young you are." Jughead said, followed by a sip of his bitter drink.

"Too young?" Betty asked. She was twenty-four, and by the time she'd reached an age where she felt the desire to drink alcohol it had become illegal. Even with her connections, she had never ventured into a speakeasy until tonight.

"You seem the perfect age to me. It fits you."

The smell of smoke and spilled alcohol permeated the small room, and as the night wore on more patrons entered through the secret door in the kitchen. The room became increasingly crowded and Betty was pushed in Jughead as another couple joined their table.

Jughead seemed to sense the tension she felt with the crowd because he stood and offered his hand to her.

"One dance and I'll take you home?"

Betty took his hand with a smile and followed him to the small bit of the open dance floor. The music came halting to a stop and was replaced by a slower ballad, the bass plunking out a deep rhythm. A sweet melody floated out from the upright piano at the side of the stage.

Betty  draped one arm over Jughead's shoulder, the other held in his hand as he pulled her close at the waist. They swayed softly with the music, a few other couples following their lead. There wasn't much room to move, so Jughead pulled her in small circles until the music wound down and ultimately went silent.

Jughead's arm was still around her even when the music stopped, and Betty thought that she quite liked this. She hadn't danced with a boy since she was in school and even then it felt forced, like something she was expected to do. Here, it felt entirely unexpected and exciting.

Jughead led her back to the door they had come through and passed through the kitchen, which had since become much more quiet. The streets outside were still crowded with people moving from one place to another, but in the alley beside the restaurant Jughead's car sat alone.

"I think I'd like to ride home with the top down, if you don't mind." Betty asked as they approached the car.

"I thought you'd never ask."

With the wind in her hair, Betty felt more free than she ever had before. City lights glowing around her and a handsome man sitting next to her, she could get used to a life like this. She wasn't entirely ready for the night to end when her apartment was suddenly imposing in front of her.

"You'll walk me up?"

"We aren't going up the fire escape this time, are we?" Jughead teased.

"I think the indoor stairs will do just fine." Betty took Jughead's arm as she led him to her doorway. She stopped outside the door, not yet taking her key from her purse. "When can I expect you to call on me again?"

Betty turned to face Jughead, their bodies so close she could see the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. He tilted his head down, closer to hers and his lips pressed softly against her cheek.

"As soon as possible." He said, pulling away.

"I look forward to it."

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A/N: Let me know what you think! Trying to write in the mind of how people acted almost 100 years ago was a bit strange, but I hope I did it justice. Keep an eye out for part 2!

[birdscreeches]

Breathing Exercises || Aisha R.

My father had given my siblings and I his asthma. Not on purpose, sure, but that didn’t matter as much as the fact that now we had to live through the curse. Childhoods were bright with afternoon sun and asphalt dust, but at the end of the day it was a room of wheezes, inhalers, and nebulizers.

I remember sitting with my younger sister in my grandparents’ room. We watched TV with the volume up real high so we could hear the cartoons over the loud buzz of the nebulizer. When she’d laugh, the vapor pouring from the mask strapped on her face would puff out in billows like a dragon. When it was my turn, I blew air out, like a silent kind of whistle, and watched the mist spill out while I wheezed from the exertion. I didn’t feel like a dragon so much as completely breathless and disappointed. Even more so when I got scolded for wasting the mist I was supposed to be breathing in and given a mouthpiece attachment in what I assumed was punishment. Back then, I hated the thing, but if I could go back, I’d tell seven-year-old-me, come on, dude. You deserved it. I deserved it. We both did, didn’t we?

The neat thing about the asthma was that when we reached a certain age, it disappeared. My siblings and  I grew out of it. We grew a little taller, a little smarter, a little stronger. We grew up and mastered the art of pushing air in out of our lungs, unaided and unassisted. It was almost as if our bodies were telling us that it was kid stuff, really, to have trouble breathing. When my siblings reached twelve, the inhales and exhales were steady and sure.

When I was twelve, my breathing just got worse. My breaths were quiet and shallow. Not so much a rise and fall of my ribs but instead miniscule shifts every half seconds. I refused to take deep breaths, afraid that maybe, I’d rip at the seams. My asthma attacks got worse. They seemed to go past my lungs, now also tremors in my hands and the pounding in my chest and the buzzing in my head. I found my asthma in moments where I couldn’t stand people looking at me, or when the noisy classroom got too loud and so I banged my head against my desk once, twice, thrice, four times in quick succession, again, then again, or when the jacket I always wore for comfort now hid scratch marks and welts I gave myself to shut up the noises that followed from school and now lived in my mind, jeering and heckling constantly.

I called it all asthma until I learned what an anxiety disorder was a year later.

An anxiety disorder is a whole lot of things, but over the years, I’ve cultivated my own metaphor that I used for myself. It goes like this: in every person’s head, there’s the fear dial. You can turn it to tick from the numbers zero to ten. There’s an employee who lives in your head and it will turn the dial when danger is present. Maybe a two for when you drop your phone. A five for sound in the dark. A nine for a shadowy figure in the corner of your eye as you’re commuting home. The dial is important. It’s supposed to be there. Fear keeps us alive. It triggers the fight or flight response, releases hormones that promote fast reactions, and other things that makes me think of gazelles running from cheetahs while David Attenborough’s voice croons in the background.

“A second is all it takes between life or death,” Imaginary David Attenborough says. The gazelle makes a mistake, and claws sink into its thigh. Or the gazelle escapes and lives to prance another day. The gazelle needs fear to run as fast as it does, and we need fear too.

Anxiety is what happens when the employee in your head dies from a heart attack, or something. With its final breath, it scrambles for purchase, grabbing the dial and turning it, one, two, three, ten, past that to a section under it labeled You’re Gonna Die.

I’m now essentially Always About To Die at any given moment. The fear is a constant thrum under my skin with everything I do, and since humans can’t exactly be screaming twenty four seven, it manifests in things like paranoia and over thinking. When I can hear my head past the shallow wheezes of my lungs, I hear the constant litany in my head. Every day, it plays like a PA system in grocery store. Calm, cool, and as a matter of fact, it goes: you’re walking weird you need to fix that because you’re doing it wrong no you can’t eat in front of people they’re all watching you and you’re being greedy you’re not very smart are you you’re not very good at anything really are you you need to leave you need to be gone you need to be quiet everybody is speaking you need to speak louder speak softer speak slower speak faster you need to go to sleep you’re not needed right now go to sleep go to sleep. Good night. Insert grocery theme song here. A part of me knew the words were either wrong or magnifying small things into huge things, but logic didn’t mesh with anxiety. There’s dissonance and then there’s a disconnect. What I knew refused to make amends with what I felt. Here I am in my grocery aisle, screaming at a speaker in the corner. “You’re wrong, I know you’re wrong.” I say.

All the PA says, calm, cool, and as a matter of fact, is, Good morning shopper, did you really have to wake up today or are you just being greedy?

Greed was a word my anxiety loved to throw at me. An intense, selfish desire. Growing up in a Catholic school, greed was taught to me as one of the seven cardinal sins, one of the real bad ones that got you in those VIP hell sections. Greed is when you want too much. When you want for what’s no longer your share. What you don’t deserve. Greed was, apparently, in everything I did. Waking up. Eating. Sitting. Talking. Laughing. Smiling. Crying. Existing. All the other -ings of life. Breathing. If this was anxiety or something else in my head that maybe just wanted an excuse to finally come crawling out, I don’t know. What I did know was that by twelve years old, I started looking at every second I lived in regards to the questions like did I earn this? Did I deserve it?

When I was maybe seven or eight, my parents had signed me up for a summer swimming class, just like the rest of my siblings had when they turned seven or eight in hopes of alleviating the constriction of my airways. Every day for two weeks, I’d spend two pathetic hours in a pool. I was awful at swimming. The water was liquid fear and every inch I submerged was an inch of terror. I was graceless in a pool, and I did so awfully that I had to be taken out of the main class and taught, one on one, how to do something as simple as hold my breath. I didn’t actually get the whole concept that you were only supposed to do it when you were out of the water. Constantly, I was sucking water into my throat and lungs. It was in this class I taught myself the intricacies of drowning. It was here where I learned how to fear it. But it was in my senior year of high school I learned that maybe I deserved it.

I tried my best to avoid pools, but it was inescapable in twelfth grade. Our required PE class was swimming, and if I wanted to graduate, I had to get in the water. For two hours every week, I would drown. The moment I was in the water, my mind went loud with the mumbles: your limbs are moving in all the wrong ways you’re making a fool of yourself you’ll never get better Ma'am is yelling at you just stay under stay under stay under, the usual yadda yadda yadda. I wouldn’t have such a hard time if ten years prior, I just bucked up and learned how to swim. This pain I felt as I gulped chlorine water into my throat, as I cried tears nobody would see, as I flailed and breathed in something I wasn’t supposed to, was my punishment for once being the scared and useless little kid who didn’t want to get into the pool. Stay under. You didn’t deserve to breathe air. Stay under.

I did eventually surface, but it wasn’t my choice so much as my body’s survival instincts. It can’t seem to get with the program. What if, sometimes, I didn’t deserve to survive?

It’s a little capitalistic to subscribe to the concept of deserving things. Of having to work to deserve things. In a lot of contexts, earning things is important. Rewards only come to those who work hard, afterall, but things start to get odd when you apply the same principle to things people just inherently have. Case in point: life, living, and all its permutations. Sure, one could work hard to improve the quality of their life—and if they succeeded or not will not always be because of them, things like privilege and circumstance mucks up the entire system of deserving things even more—but you didn’t have to work to earn the right to live. Nobody asks to be born, and we’re all just here because we are. If somebody gets told they need to reach a certain quota to be alive, that’s an injustice. Prejudice, in extreme cases. Ascribing the concept of having to deserve to live brings up the corollary of who deserves to die. That’s called playing god, and over the course of history, it’s generally frowned upon.

I figure I can play god when it’s just in the confines of my head since the only one frowning is me. One of the ways I cope with the constant stream of noise that sometimes makes sense and sometimes doesn’t, is to use a solid system of deserving. Worth. It filters the noise down to what’s true and what isn’t. If I recited well in class, I earned the right to hang out with my friends and laugh for a half hour or so. If I got a high score in an exam, I earned the right to eat dinner later that night. If I wrote at least five hundred words every weekday of a week, I earned the right to sleep in til noon on sunday. If I didn’t do something right, if I didn’t do something enough, if I got through a day without having done anything to justify my living it, I’d take away things I could do or indulge in. Food. Sleep. Contact. Those were things I had to earn. If I went even further in the wrong direction, I deserved punishment. A punch to the wall of our bathroom for every slip up I did. The next day, I fail a test because I can’t hold my pen correctly, my fingers bruised and shaking. I make up for it with the left hand, and so it goes. This is what I deserved. By ascribing achievement with worth, I silence one voice in my head that tells me I’m selfish for doing one thing. In this, finally, I can breathe. All I have to do to keep on living without the voices suffocating me is to work hard and work right and everything will be okay. 

Or it wouldn’t be.

On a given day, I’ve either deserved to live or not. One of the easiest breaths I’ve ever taken was on the top floor of a retreat complex in Antipolo. The building had five storeys along with an open roof and no railing. Just a meter tall concrete barrier. It was seven in the morning. I was seventeen. I was standing on top of the barrier. I walked it like a catwalk for a few minutes before I stopped, looked out into the dawn.

I dangled my foot forward then I did the same but back. I remember thinking about my skull crushing upon hitting the ground below. I remember standing and wondering about myself as a scale. On the end above the safety of the roof would lie all the days I deserved. On the other, the one that hung above a drop that maybe I’d survive if I was lucky, if I earned it, were all the days I didn’t deserve. I never got around to learning what the verdict was because a teacher found me right then. I had to explain with words pouring out like chlorine water that I wasn’t thinking of jumping, which technically wasn’t a lie. I was thinking of falling. 

My moment was cut short, but I swear, I felt the scales tip forward. I swear I almost followed it. I swear I would’ve deserved it. I still think I do.

From an objective perspective, my deserving-things system works in keeping me functional and productive. From another perspective, it’s apparently abuse. I understand this, but deny it when it comes to myself. If anybody were to do this to another person, I’d think them evil. When it’s just me, I call it motivation. In my defense, people who are abused never deserve it. Everything that happens to me is something I had coming. Or something I tell myself I had coming. I’m lying to myself, but I’d rather believe in motivation than the possibility I have a problem. It’s not like I deserved to even say this was all real anyway.

Nothing particularly bad has ever happened in my life to have caused this. No traumatic experience at twelve, no definitive history of bullying, no nothing. One of the worst things anxiety has ever done to me was rob me of a reason, and I’m not even sure if the anxiety is real or not. I don’t even want to know. I refuse to see a counselor or a doctor because the prospect of having an answer terrifies me more than having a question. What if I get diagnosed and it’s real? I actually have a problem. What if my cartoon metaphor isn’t just for kicks, but my brain is genuinely wired differently in a way that causes me trouble not everybody else goes through? The implications of it being real would mean things like treatment, therapy, medication, expense. Anxiety never existed past my own body and so the thought of it becoming tangible and real has me crawling back to the safety of uncertainty.

On the flipside is the possibility that really haunts me though; the one I can’t decide on whether or not it’s better or worse. What if I go to a doctor and there’s nothing wrong? What if I’m fine? Every single thing I had gone through was a fabrication. Every terrible thing in my brain was something I made up. I’ve been lying this entire time, and I didn’t even notice. I was a fraud in every sense of the word, not just to everybody I know, but to myself.

Maybe I deserved that; the death sentence of knowing if it was yes or no. But this wasn’t the type of deserving that set my mind at ease. It was the kind that scared me. The kind I’ve been shying away from. It’s this fear that hinders me from moving forward and even beginning to recover. How do you get better from a sickness you don’t believe is there?

My maybe-maybe-not anxiety has plagued me for years and it’s made my life worse. In spite of this, I refuse see if it’s a real issue and I refuse to seek help for something that might be a fake one. I assume that maybe there’s a part of me—perhaps the survival instinct that never got the memo—that wants to get better, that wants whatever the hell this might be out of my head. But then I wonder if there will be anything left behind.

My anxiety dictates how I function. How I sleep, eat, talk, breathe, live. Take that away, and I’ll be years late in the game of figuring out how to exist in a world I never had to earn to live in. Eighteen is young still, so maybe I have time, but it’s daunting. Fear is sometimes a warm blanket to hide under. Something, something about dogs and old tricks. The usual excuse. My guise of I can’t do it actually just a farce to hide the scared shaking, terrified kid who didn’t want to go swimming saying, over and over again, I don’t want to do it. The difference, I guess, is that it’s not as hopeless as I’m making it out to be.

A month ago, urged by a week of monumental stress punctuated by a panic attack each day, I started smoking. My lungs aren’t asthmatic anymore, so physically, I can take it. Every other day I’d pull smoke into my mouth, wait til I could inhale it into my lungs, hold it until I was ready to breath out, like a silent kind of whistle. The dragon of my childhood dreams.

It was the perfect compromise. A smoke was a punishment because I knew it was messing up my health, but it was also a reward because it shut my mind up for a blissful few minutes, the voices steadily trickling in. I liked smoking. It was quiet, it was bad for me, and, ironically, my lungs felt lighter each time.

Maybe, after years of wheezing followed by years of frantic, shaking rasping, I got tired of not doing this whole air thing right. Maybe I started smoking to teach myself how to breathe again. It’s not much but, however misguided, it’s still a step. I figure if I can take one, I can take another. Then another. Then another.

[bluepenguinstories]

Happiness Overload Chapter Thirty-Nine

Most of the time, I would complete my mission and then stay wherever I was stationed until I received my next mission. I had no true home. I imagine it's the same with others in my field: they all slept wherever they could find and made the most of it. Maybe some had many homes that they just accumulated over the years, though I imagined such a thing would be difficult what with always traveling around. Really, it was better that way. Less complicated.

Now, what was different was that I would usually find another city to stay in, another country, anywhere where I couldn't be detected. While it didn't happen often, there was a precedent of counter-contractors. There were competitors out there who would pay a good price to see themselves rise up in the ranks. I didn't think there would be a problem, given the mission was a special case. It wasn't every mission where I happened to deal in metaphysical things. No company would have opposed me getting rid of her, so there didn't seem to be any problem staying where I was at for a while.

Especially because I hadn't gotten rid of her.

Yes, she was gone, but if I knew her at all, she would be back. For someone with high intelligence, she seemed lacking in the wisdom department.

“Get a grip, Rhea. It's already been a few days,” I tried telling myself as I took a stroll through the city. There were many interesting sights: shops that sold healing crystals, a shop that sold only umbrellas, statues outside of buildings of ostriches and old men. Pigeons trotted and squawked about, just as they did in any city. Really, when you got down to it, all these cities tended to blur together.

I passed by a tavern. One of those places where people in my profession tended to get together and chat. Not to mention there was often lodging, which was perfect for us.

How long have I been at this?

I pressed my hand up to the window. Nope. Still cold. Still me.

Trick question. The answer is 'nearly all my life'.

Anomaly Report #42,069

'Rhea Flection':

“Hey, did you hear the story of that baby who was found under a sheet of ice in Antarctica?”

“Well, I did now.”

“Damn, it was all over the news.”

“Okay, well I'm a busy person, you know that.”

“So what happened is some researchers were stationed somewhere in the arctic and they found this baby wrapped in cloth just lying there in the freezing tundra. Thing is, though, the researchers found that she was still alive. She was rushed to the nearest hospital, somewhere in Greenland.”

“Really? No hypothermia? Pneumonia? Frostbite? Any of that?”

“All that and anything else you can think of. It was quite a miracle, really. She was sent to a foster family after making a full recovery.”

“No clue who her birth parents were?”

“None, though some tests were done and could identify some Inuit in her.”

“Oh, come on! We probably could've found a match!”

“Could've, or should've. No dice.”

“Damn. That's so hard to believe.”

“Yeah, but makes for a great mystery. Funny thing is, she's grown up with the constant feeling of being cold ever since. I swear, you could put her in a furnace and she'd still cross her arms and shiver like she was freezing to death.”

Yes. I've read the files on me. Rather unwise of them to pick one of their many documented anomalies to be one of their mercenaries for hire. They seemed to specialize in picking the odd ones, didn't they?

I stepped inside the bar and felt its chill.

Really? Air conditioning? They should've done the opposite and turned the heater on.

Then I remembered: it was summer. Right. It was just me.

In fact, I didn't even notice an air conditioning unit. No ventilation, either. So it was definitely just me.

As soon as I seated myself next to the counter, the bartender came over. Some burly looking man. Disgusting.

“So, what'll it be? A cold one?”

“I have a name...”

“Uh, right. What'll it be, miss...?”

“Just call me Cold One.”

The bartender groaned. What was his deal?

“Okay, fine. Miss Cold One. Are you gonna order something?”

I looked around, then faced him. “No.”

He started to look pissed, so I slipped him some money. “Just let me sit for a bit.”

When he noticed the cash I slipped him, his demeanor changed. “Certainly, ma'am.”

After I was sure he would leave me alone, I took another look around and noticed an empty seat to the right of me, just next to the wall. In another bar, pub, tavern, what have you, I must have sat there, or in a position akin to the one I had my gaze fixed on.

I remembered a time when I sat at a table not unlike that one in another tavern where associates in my profession had gathered. I sat alone, drinking a screwdriver (no, I don't know why they're called that. I've tasted screwdrivers. They don't taste the same).

“Well if it isn't the great Rhea I've heard so much about!” A strange and dubious looking man (so basically any man) came up to me, grinning a foul grin with his gray facial hair running amok.

“Oh? Then you must have heard that I don't like men.”

“What? I didn't hear that at all! Come on, why not?”

“Men are boorish, crude, disgusting, disrespectful, foolish, foul-mouthed, ill-mannered, irresponsible, lecherous, lethargic, and most of all, rude.”

“The fuck? Sweetcheeks, I'm none of those things,” he then proceeded to belch. I winched and met his response with a scowl.

“You are all of these things. See, I've heard a little about you as well, Douglas.”

He grimaced and took a step back. “Ugh, you're unpleasant.”

I nodded. “That's another word I would use to describe men. Would you like more adjectives? Let's see...amoral, brutish, crass, dishonorable, fickle, misogynistic, self-centered...”

“Hey! I think if you spent some time around me, you'd find I'm not all that bad. My line of work may not be the best, but it's easy money. Just gotta give people a good scare and BAM! Pockets filled. Tell me, how's that any worse than you killing people?”

“I think anyone who had to spend time around you would find themselves sooner wishing for death.” I took a gulp of my drink and wiped my mouth.

Such a memory was not a pleasant one. Honestly, fuck that guy. If I ever ended up feeling bad for him dying, all I would have to do is remember that conversation.

I got up out of my seat and made my way out of the tavern. Everything was so exhausting and the cold was tiring. Before leaving the tavern, I took one last look around. None of the occupants were in the same business I was, that much I could tell. Everyone was so ordinary.

There grew a certain resolve in me after leaving the tavern and walking once more through the streets. Beside me I saw a fountain, where many threw their coins for wishes. I had other ideas. I threw my phone, the one The Flashbulb and other organizations would use to contact me.

“I think it's time I wrapped things up.”

About a couple miles spent shivering and wading through crowds, I arrived at my destination and gave the door a firm series of knocks.

“Uh...Can I help you?” When the one I came to see opened the door, she both looked and sounded surprised. Guess I couldn't fault her for that. “Wait a second. Aren't you that weird lady I saw the other day at the shelter?”

“Yes, that would be me.”

“Well, what are you doing here? How did you know where I live?”

Hm...what could I say as to not freak her out...

“I...I've been stalking you.”

“What? You too? Ugh. Why can't you guys just leave me alone?” She was just about to close the door where I stood when she stopped herself. “Wait. You don't mean any harm, do you?”

“Not at the moment, no.”

“Would you like to come in?”

I looked behind me, then made my decision. “Fine, but I ought to make this quick.”

As I entered and closed the door behind me, I noticed the sibling in view. Chubbier, brown hair.

He peered out from the hallway.

“Who is this?”

“Don't worry, Trent! She's just a stalker!”

“Yeah, that's not worrying at all,” he scoffed.

“You should still worry, though,” I spoke up. “Both of you.”

“Why?”

“I'd rather not explain but it would be in both of your best interests to move elsewhere.”

“Nope,” she shook her head. “No can do.”

“What? Why not?”

“I work in the city, if we moved, it would have to be somewhere close enough for me to get to work,” the brother explained.

The cute one nodded. “As for me, I freeload off of Trent. I've got no job and no money of my own.”

“Money's no object to me. Tell me how much you need. If you need help finding a place to stay, I know plenty.” I scrambled to come up with means to persuade them. “I have connections. I can get your brother a job at another hospital.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Slow down. Why do you want us to move so bad?”

“I'm...I'm just trying to do a good deed here...”

She placed her palm on her forehead and winced. “This is all too much...I'm already worried sick because Ves hasn't been home for a few days  now and she can come and go as she pleases, but usually she's back before I know it and she's usually never gone this long...”

“Ves?”

“Vesuvius, my wife.”

Right. Of course.

“Last time I saw her, we had a fight, which was weird, because we've never really fought before, but then again, she's not been feeling well lately, and that's probably been affecting her emotions.”

You could say that.

“What? You guys had a fight?”

“Yes, Trent.” She sighed. “Even though she probably wanted some time away, I was still worried about her, since she was sick and all. I found her at a shelter the next morning, right next to our stalker here.”

Okay, while that may have been apt, I was getting a little tired of hearing it.

“My name is Rhea.”

“Oh!” Her eyes widened. “That's a pretty cute name!”

I was speechless. Why would she say something like that? My face must have made a hundred different shapes, trying to process what I had heard.

“Anyway, my head's still a little fuzzy on the details, but I went home and I just hoped she would come back sometime, but so far nothing.”

“At least it seems you've come back to your senses a little...” I muttered.

“Huh?”

“Nothing.”

“Oh!” There she went again. Her eyes lit up and she raised a finger. “You were with her, right? You wouldn't happen to know where she went, would you?”

I shook my head. “You are correct, but no. Not a clue.”

She must have noticed me shivering, since next she asked if I would like a blanket or something.

“No, it's okay. I have a condition.”

“Oh, you're sick too? Just like Ves?”

“Not quite,” I gave her a weak smile. It was clear to me now why Vesuvius had taken a liking to her.

“Have you ever thought about getting it checked out?” Her brother suggested.

“Really, I'm, uh, fine!” I shook my hands in the air.

“I hope wherever she is, she's doing okay...”

“She's only going to get worse.”

She froze. Damn it, I knew such a thing was bound to happen.

“You make it sound like you know what's going on with her.”

“I do, but like I said, I don't know where she's at. I don't know how to explain how I know but --”

“I know already. You've been stalking her.”

“Uh...right. Anyway, to put it in simple terms, she poisoned herself.”

“What? Why would she do that?”

“She wasn't in a very good place and thought it would improve her situation.”

She shook her head. “That's so like her...”

I didn't know what to say to that. It didn't matter, anyway, since she continued.

“I trust her because I know she means well, but she's always trying to take care of things on her own.”

“I'm aware.”

“I get it, too. She's been through a lot and she's on one hand trying to be this mature woman and prove that she can be, bu then it's also like she's trying to recover years of her life that she's missed. It's hard, and sometimes she goes off and when she comes back, it's like she's forgotten a part of herself. But I'll always be here to remind her and take care of her. She may not be able to recover all the old parts of her, but I'm sure one day she can figure out what a wonderful person she is.”

“You're supposed her wife, not her caretaker.”

“It's not like that! She takes care of me, too! We help each other! I'm not saying she's always honest, but she doesn't mince her words! There's an assertiveness to her I admire in her. Most of all, I know she's kind as well. She's a wonderful person and --”

“...She killed your stalker.”

At first she looked taken aback, but then she just waved her hand and laughed. “I'd marry anyone who'd kill a man for me!”

“Really? Is that all it takes? Because I could do that right now if you want. Just tell me who you want me to kill and --”

“No! No! I was joking.”

“Oh. I see. Anyway, if it makes you feel any better, she acted in self-defense. She went looking for the man who was causing you trouble and thought she could get him to stop. He put up a fight, something she wasn't expecting him to do. I showed up at the tail end of the altercation, both of them pretty bloodied up. I was too late to break it up, and he nearly killed her, but she got him.”

That wasn't exactly how it went down, but there was no need to tell the whole truth. Like how I nearly killed her wife as well.

“So you said you saw this all happen?”

“Yes. I was hired to follow her around.”

“I thought you said you were stalking me.”

“I knew where she lived and by proxy, I knew where you lived.”

“Where I currently live.”

“Right. Look, I never claimed to be a good person.”

“You're right, but you did say you were trying to do the right thing, so that should count for something. By the way, are you hungry at all?”

“You're too kind.”

“No, really, it's nothing.”

“That kindness is a weakness of yours. Any stranger, no matter how dubious or questionable, you just try to be as courteous as you can, don't you? Don't you know how cold and cruel this world is? People will see your kindness and take advantage of you and bleed you dry. You may think you're just being nice, but the next thing you know, you've gotten yourself hurt, all the while the people you tried to help don't give you a second thought and worst case scenario? You'll have gotten yourself killed.”

“Hey, leave my sis--”

“No, Trent, it's okay,” she shook, and I thought I saw her face turn red. That was when she turned to me. “Do you really think of me as weak?”

“Clearly.”

She drew a deep breath, then smiled and shook her head. “Just because I'm nice doesn't mean I'm weak. Yes, I know how cruel this world can be, but I don't see things getting any better by being cruel along with it. I'm well aware of how tough things can be; I worked nonstop while Trent was in medical school so he wouldn't have to deal with endless debt. All of the money I made went toward him. That's just what we do. We help each other out. If there's someone who needs help, who's asking for help, I will do what I can to help them. If later they turn out to not be so kind, so be it, but at least I did what I could. Is that something you call weak?”

“I mean, if what you're saying is true, then wouldn't that mean you're just treating Vesuvius like you would anyone else? In that case, could you really say you love her?”

For a moment, she just stared, dumbfounded. I half-expected her to explode into a fury. Instead, she just blinked, then asked:

“You don't understand human emotions very well, do you?”

“No. No I don't.”

She pursed her lips and tilted her head. I couldn't tell what she was doing, though I was inclined to believe she was making fun of me.

“Would you like a hug?”

“I wouldn't mind...”

Before I knew it, she lunged at me and wrapped her arms around my back. She was pressed up against me, her arms wrapped tight, the sensation not being something I recognized. In a panic, I pried myself loose and got up.

“What was that?!”

“A hug?”

“I have to leave!”

“Are you blushing?!”

“N-NO! My cheeks are just red because I'm cold!”

I bolted for the door, not bothering to look back. Not even bothering to close the door behind me. All the while, my heart beat with a mortifying intensity.

Who knew she was dangerous too? What was I thinking going over there? Trying to play hero? Ha!

Part of me expected to see Vesuvius as I went to close the door. Then again, I knew that was just wishful thinking. Trent stood at the end of the hallway, just where he had been the whole time I spoke with the weird lady named Rhea.

“What was that all about?” Trent asked. I could tell by the look on his face that he was confused.

“I don't know, man. All I did was hug her.”

“No, I mean, why was she even here?”

I found myself pacing without even realizing it. Maybe I missed Ves so much that I was starting to adopt some of her mannerisms. When I noticed what I was doing, I brought myself back to the couch and sat down.

“Again, like, I don't know. She wanted us to move or something? She seemed pretty worried about Ves, too, but it seemed like she was being pretty vague about stuff.”

“We have got to stop letting weird people in.”

I shook my head. What a week I've had...

“I think I need to go take a walk. Maybe that'll clear my head.”

“Good idea, just don't go chasing weird stalker lady.”

I stuck out my tongue. “Just try and stop me.”

But no, I wasn't planning on looking for Rhea. I would have wanted to see Vesuvius, but that just seemed like wishful thinking.

Once I was a safe distance away, I let out a sigh of relief. My chosen spot to sit and recover was atop a small pillar besides a financial building. I placed my palm on my chest and felt my heart still pounding away.

“Be still, my beating heart.”

But wouldn't it be nice if I wasn't so cold all the time? If someone could hold me and warm me up? Massage my back...maybe leave kisses all over me...

I clutched my head. Why was I starting to think such things? I closed my eyes and yelled, not a care for who might have heard me.

“What's gotten into me? This is ridiculous!”

When I opened my eyes, I spied a nail salon just across the street. Then, an idea popped into my mind. Maybe, just maybe, I ought to enjoy myself a little. After all, my time in this profession was coming to an end.

Darkness continued to surround me.

“Right. It would have never worked.”

What a mess you've made. There you go, you created your own little world, and then you broke it.

“I can fix it. I can create a new one, I can do better this time.”

So just like The Flashbulb, then?

“Right...I shouldn't do that. It's better this way. If I just stay here, in this empty space.”

Alone? In what world would that make you happy?

“I never said I would be. I don't need to be happy. I don't need anything, or anyone. As long as I'm me, then that's enough.”

But who are you?

“I'm...”

Stop lying to yourself.

“I'm not! If I could be with her again, I would, but I'm not safe to be around!”

Her?

“Maybe it's true that I don't need anyone. Maybe it's true that I never needed her, that I just used her. Maybe I never truly loved her, but that doesn't mean she doesn't deserve to be happy! Like, truly happy, not just because she's been forced to be! She deserves a good life, a life that isn't so empty.”

No response that time. It seemed that my thoughts had left me. I reached through the darkness, felt nothing. That was fine, too. I would adapt. This was my home, and it was where I would stay.

Except you can't. You tried that. You broke it.

I closed my eyes. If I could shut out these thoughts, then perhaps I could finally enjoy something. If I just reminded myself that there was no danger here, that I could stay in this nothingness without anything going wrong, then it would all be fine.

You can't stay. Because there's nothing to stay in.

It was no use, yet again. Even alone, I was in conflict. My thoughts did nothing but serve to show what a mess of myself I had become. I screamed into the void, and then, I opened my eyes.

“No...”

Fear overtook me.

No more was there darkness, instead I was back in the city I had left. I found myself standing on the pavement at a park, the street not too far off.

“This can't be right...I shouldn't be here...”

Something wasn't adding up.

“Maybe this is a world I created, too, and I just didn't realize it. Yeah, that must be it!” I did my best to rationalize, and I ended up finding myself in a fit of nervous laughter.

“There you are!”

That voice...

I turned around and saw Juniper headed in my direction. I was reminded of when she showed up at the shelter, but something was different this time around.

“You shouldn't be here, you're not real!”

“Like hell I'm not!” She marched up and was now right in front of me.

“Nothing around me is real! They're all just props and puppets! I...I can erase you!”

“Oh, sure, go ahead,” she groaned.

She then stood on her tiptoes and raised her finger at me. There was a scowl on her face I wasn't used to seeing. “Now listen here, missy,” she grabbed my hand and I was taken aback. Her hand clasped mine, her fingers finding their way between my own. “You look me in the eyes and tell me that I'm not real!”

I looked down. Even on her tiptoes, I was still a head taller than her. Her eyes held the same fiery passion as the rest of her in that moment.

“What are you doing here?”

“What? What am I doing here? It's been days and I've been worried sick about you!”

“You shouldn't be here...”

“Bull-Shit!”

“I'm serious! I shouldn't be in your life!”

“Maybe you should've thought about that before you entered, then!”

“Please, just go. I've forced you to be mad at me, then tell me you hated me...I've been controlling you and it's not safe to be around me...”

“You're damn right I'm mad! Because...because...”

I noticed her start to shake.

“Because you can be real hot-headed!”

“What?”

“You heard me! I don't mind that you've kept secrets, but thinking that you're keeping me safe by making me hate you?” She gulped. “When I could never hate you!”

“But you should! I'm not who you think I am!”

“So what if you like to be rough in bed? I'm okay with that!”

“WH...That's not what I mean!”

She burst into laughter. “Okay, sorry, I couldn't resist. You should see the look on your face.”

“I'm being serious!”

“I know, I just thought I'd lighten the mood a little.”

What was she trying to do? Get me flustered? Was this some sort of divine retribution?

“Look...I don't know if you remember what I said the other day...if you were even able to understand any of it.”

“It's a little hazy, I admit. So tell me about it.”

“Which part?”

“All of it.”

“You wouldn't believe me if I did that.”

“I don't care. I'd like to hear it.”

I didn't even know where to begin, but I couldn't deny her such a request.

“When Blanc was living with us, I thought them strange. They had on them a device which I recognized as one used to time-travel. After a while, I concluded that they meant no harm, but I still worried that they would disrupt the life I had established with you and your brother. I desperately wanted them to forget their past, whoever they were before, and just live with us.”

“Yeah, it would've been cute.”

“...Because that way, I thought I'd be safe. But then they disappeared. I feared the worst and the next time I saw them was in my office. They were acting strange, telling me how anything they wanted to happen they could make happen. They sent me to a place where in an alternate timeline, I was killed by the people who worked there. There I saw Blanc's abilities in action. They made people disappear and that's when I thought that if I had some of that power, I could be free.”

“I see...”

“Sure enough, I took that power. I extracted a sample of their blood and drank it. I don't even know why I thought that was a good idea, but it was like I was under a trance in that moment. The next thing I knew, my hair had turned silver and I returned here. I thought that with this power, I could finally be happy, but it's been making me sick.”

“You're right, that doesn't sound very believable.”

“See?”

She let go of my hand and crossed her arms.

“So, are you happier?”

That struck me. I shook my head. It was all starting to pour out.

“No! I should be but I'm not! Nothing I try works!” My fists shook as I spoke, but that wasn't all. My voice was shaking as well. “Every time I try to make things better, something goes wrong! Not only that, but each time I try something, I only sink deeper! Just when I think I've crossed the point of no return, the goalpost moves and I sink to new lows! There's nothing I can do!”

I began coughing and fell to the ground. Juniper grabbed me and held my head against her chest. She stroked my hair and wouldn't let go of me.

“Oh, bother. What are we going to do with you?”

I felt tears start to form. I wanted to stop them and wipe them away, but I felt powerless in the moment.

“Why?”

“Don't worry about it,” she cooed.

“But didn't you hear what I said?”

“It's okay; it's all a process, a series of trial and error. Most people don't figure it out right away.”

“I don't know what to do. I don't even know who I am or who I should be.”

“And that's okay.”

“I'm tired of you always saying 'it's okay'. It's not okay.”

“I only say that because it really is okay,” she stroked the side of my neck. “It's okay to not know who you are. Because whoever you are, I still love you.”

“You shouldn't...”

“I can't help it!” She laughed. Curses. Her laugh was adorable.

I managed to break free from her and I wiped my face. It was so unbecoming of me.

“Are you saying that because you're still under the effects of my power?”

“Maybe. But if it makes you happy that I'm not, maybe I'm not.”

“I suppose...that makes sense?”

“Hey, have you been seeing clearly?”

I could see just fine what a mess of a situation I had thrown myself in. Many messes.

“I mean your eyesight,” she added. “Did you use your powers to fix your eyesight?”

Oh. Right. I still never got around to doing that.

“No...”

“Well,” she smiled. “I think it would make me happier if you wore your glasses.”

“I don't have them with me...”

She reached into my pocket. I didn't even try to stop her.

“Oh really?” She placed them on my face. “All better.”

“How? Those weren't in my pocket before...did you bring them from home?”

“Nope!”

“You...”

“Hey, can I kiss you? Is that okay?”

I started to sniffle. I still couldn't believe what was going on.

“I think...I would like that. Very much.”

Maybe it was just selfish of me. Someone like me, wanting something like that. Regardless, she smiled and leaned in. Her lips met mine and she wrapped her arms around the back of my head, stroking my hair while holding on. I matched her and pressed my own lips further. When she let go, I smiled as well.

“There, that wasn't so bad, was it?”

“I'm sorry about everything.”

“Hush. It's okay now.”

We sat next to each other on the pavement, just staring at each other. That was when the silence was broken.

“Well isn't that sweet?” Came a low and icy voice. It sounded familiar, but there was a certain sweetness to it I didn't recognize. Juniper and I stood back up and I turned around to see Rhea sitting down at a park bench wearing a leather jacket with the buttons down and a blue and white striped shirt underneath. Her legs were crossed and she was staring down at her hands, filing her nails.

“Rhea? How long have you been here?” My words came out more like I was making some sort of accusation. Not the tone I intended to carry.

“Oh hey, it's weird stalker lady!”

“What?! You know her?!” I turned to Juniper and balked.

Rhea looked up. “Oh hi, it's good to see you again, Vesuvius. I knew you'd return sooner or later.” She spread her lips, as if attempting a smile. It looked like she was wearing some kind of blue lip gloss. “Hm? I just got here not too long ago.”

“So this is it, huh?”

Instead of going in for an attack, she held out her hands and showed off her fingernails. “Do you like them? I got little snowflakes painted on them.”

“What are you getting at?”

“I think they're pretty!” Juniper chimed in.

“Thank you. You know, I think those pigtails really suit you.”

“Oh, thanks!”

“Uh...what are you doing?” Was she messing with me? I couldn't figure out if there was some kind of trap being set. It could be that she was just trying to confuse me on purpose. Either way, it all seemed too out of character for her.

“Hey Vesuvius, I just adore your silver hair. Have you ever thought of getting it braided?”

“Why are you acting like we're friends?”

She let out a sigh. “Under different circumstances, I could see us all being friends. We could braid each other's hair, get drunk and make fun of strangers, sit and watch movies together.” From out of her pockets, she grabbed two weapons – they looked like miniature guns, but the way they were shaped made me think of miniature crossbows. Each one was pointed at Juniper and I.

“Alas,” her cold voice returned. “That can't happen.”

“What are you doing?!” I demanded.

“Don't worry, I still have my rifle with me. I just thought I'd go for something different since we're so close.”

“That's not what I'm getting at! We're in public! In broad daylight!”

“I see no problem with that. Not like I plan on being around much longer, anyway.”

I turned my head and saw Juniper, frozen in fear. It looked like any moment, she would break and she was just doing her best to keep herself together.

Now do you see that not everything is okay?

“Did The Flashbulb make her a target as well?”

“Those guys? I couldn't care less about them. They're just a paycheck. They think you've been taken care of. No, I'm doing this because I want to.”

“But she's not the threat! I am!”

“Maybe so, but wouldn't it upset you if I shot her as well? Wouldn't it make you livid? Rile you up?”

“Is this all some kind of game to you?”

“Games? Like having a snowball fight? Building a snowman?” She grinned, something so unlike her, and exhaled. I thought I could see her breath. “Then again, it doesn't have to be a snowman.”

“Stop this!” I shouted. “I'm the one you want!”

“You're right,” both guns were now aimed at my chest. “I like her too much to do that, anyway.” Then, she pulled the triggers.

What I expected was to have died. After so long of evading it and fighting against it, I thought it best to just give in. It would have been the best option, really. Juniper would no longer be at risk around me, nor would anyone else in the city, for that matter. Rhea could move on and go elsewhere. I would no longer be sick, and I might have finally been at peace.

But instead, there was nothing.

“That's weird. I was sure I loaded them before I got here,” she took a look at them. Sure enough, I could see electricity surging through them. “You didn't do anything, did you?”

I shook my head.

“I don't know what your deal is,” Juniper spoke up. I turned to her to see her shaking, seething. “But there are children present! You can't just do this sort of thing wherever you please!”

Both Rhea and I blinked.

“That's real cute and all, but I really don't ca--” Rhea tried to say, but Juniper interrupted.

“Both of you! Find some place else!”

For whatever reason, Rhea got up and bolted. I watched her run across the street, narrowly avoiding traffic, and go right inside a high rise building.

“Did she really just leave? Just like that?”

No. I knew it had to be too good to be true. She must have been planning something.

“To be honest, the idea of a shooting in a public park didn't sit well with me either. I think I should leave, too, just in case.”

“Glad you're in agreement!” Juniper beamed, as if she wasn't just threatened at gunpoint. Then, she winced.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she smiled, one eye closed. “My shoulder still stings a little, is all.”

“Your shoulder?”

“Oh hun, you don't remember?” She giggled. “You were quite the ferocious beast.”

“Uh...I don't think this is the time to be thinking about such things. I'm gonna go.”

“I'll go with you.”

“No! It's not safe!”

“Too late, already decided!”

We left the park, together, much to my dismay.

She's just under the influence, that's all. If I can shake her off somehow, then I can try to deal with this Rhea thing...

I looked over to her. She shrugged and smiled.

Damn it. She's cute.

As we waited to cross the busy street, I noticed a speck in the air. For whatever reason, I held out my arm in front of her, as if on instinct.

“Get back...”

The bullet struck my arm and exploded on impact. I knew already that the bullet was a special one tailor made for the entity I housed. But then, why did the shooter aim for Juniper?

She let out a gasp. My whole right side burned stung all around. When I looked down, I saw that my right arm was missing, along with a chunk of my torso. Burnt pieces of flesh fell on the ground and I was losing blood fast. For a hit that wasn't aimed at any of my vitals, I would still be done for if I didn't act fast.

“Don't worry, I'll be okay,” I wheezed.

“Bullshit you will!”

I gave her a weak smile. Just once, I tried to match her personality. “I'm not dead, am I?” The aches intensified and I was growing faint. I hunched over and spat out blood. As weak as I was, I managed to look up to see someone on the roof of the skyscraper Rhea entered. I was sure it was her.

Well I'll be. She really did take it somewhere else.

“You should look away.”

“Yeah, I'm not doing that.”

God damn it, why's she so fucking stubborn?

Darkness greeted me once more as it filled each of the spots I was missing. In the place of my arm grew a thin, lanky arm with nails as sharp as talons. The right side of me was granted new, leathery skin, filled with shadow. In my back I could feel the wings start to take shape. It burned, the pain was so intense, but I had to just let it happen.

When I was all finished transforming, I licked my lips.

“Ah, now I can show my true colors,” I crooned. I forgot just how liberating it could be to take such a form, and while I didn't want to get into any fights, doing so to protect her was a little more important.

“HELL YEAH! I TOLD YOU I HAVE A MONSTER GIRL FETISH! THIS IS THE BEST NEWS EVER!”

That snapped me out of my trance. I turned around and whined.

“You're not taking this seriously!”

She looked like she was about to say something when I spied another series of bullets. I held up a veil of shadow in front of her and as soon as the bullets came near, they fell.

“Whew!”

“Find somewhere to hide, I'm going to deal with this.”

She had nothing to say that time and just went off. Relieved, I propelled myself upward and flew to confront Rhea once again.

I landed on the roof, no Rhea in sight. There were electrical generators scattered about, places where she could be hidden. While I looked around for her, I felt something slam into me and I fell to the ground.

“Don't you know it's rude to keep a lady waiting?” She appeared and I noticed her rifle lying on the floor. As I tried to get up, she flung her thermos at me and knocked me back down.

I already just transformed and I still felt at a disadvantage. Once more, I did all I could to bring myself up. She kicked me down and I landed once again with a thud. My face was bruised by the impact. Already she was proving to be greater of a match than even my powers would allow me to deal with.

Before I could attempt to pick myself back up for a third time, she planted her boot on my chest and dug her heel in.

“Now, there's no more room for negotiation.” She tried to dig her heel further, but I reached for it and dug my nails in. She let out a yelp and I pulled her ankle, bringing her down this time.

Unlike me, she picked herself up right away and grabbed her rifle.

“Do you really think you can get a good shot at close range?” I threatened.

She just laughed. “No,” then tried to hit me with it. Before the blow could land, I grabbed hold of it and broke it.

“You lost your weapon, Rhea,” I sighed. “Do we really have to do this?”

“Don't tell me you're facing a moral dilemma now. You've killed before!”

“I know, but I'm just tired.”

“Aw, where's your passion? I want to see you in the heat of battle. Maybe I ought to remind you that you're not my only target.”

“I thought you said you liked her too much to do that!”

“Yes. What a shame. For I have to. She's already been infected. If the two of you are gone, there won't have to be any more casualties.”

“This isn't fair!”

“There we go,” she smirked. “You want to stop this? Do something about it. Because this won't stop until one of us has killed the other.”

I ran at her, my nails sharpened. I looked to slash at her, but she blocked it with gloves taken from out of her pocket with knives attached to the edges, serving as claws of her own.

“Sure, these little gloves aren't as impressive as yours, but they'll do the job.” She swiped, and my nails tore right off. I tried to jump out of the way, but she still came at me.

My nails regrew, and I protected myself. Now our faces were mere inches from each other.

“Do you notice my foundation. I put some on a little while ago. I was hoping you'd like it.”

I growled and pushed back. “What is your deal?”

“It seems you've rubbed off on me, is all.”

She pushed forward and let go with one hand, then dug the blades of the open hand into the side of my neck. I cried out, blood dripped down.

“Ah, if only I chopped it clean off, I would be done by now.”

I held onto my neck, trying to stop the bleeding.

“C'mon, I want to see your fiery side. You're happiest when you have something to be angry about, aren't you?”

Light was fading for me. Once again I felt faint as I did all that I could to stay standing. Whatever she was doing to try to rile me up, I couldn't even manage to do that. She had got me at every turn; I was doomed the moment I came up here.

“This is just like you. You have every chance to act and change your situation, and instead you're so willing to give up.”

Her words had no effect on me. All I could do at that point was struggle to keep myself alive and the next thing I knew, she was once again right next to me. This time, she held me up by the neck, lifting me up.

“You have the opportunity to let out all your aggression, feel alive. Or should I say 'had'? I've given you too many chances. You've been nothing but a disappointment to me. To everyone in your life. It's time to put this to rest.”

Her free arm was pulled back as she pointed her claws at my chest.

“I JUST WANT THIS TO END!” I screamed. With the strength that I had, I reached up and tore through the hand that restrained me, blood dripping down my nails, onto my hand. She let go and squealed, but drew a few breaths, and smiled.

“There we go.”

We clashed, each of us one handed, swiping back and forth at each other. Scratches on my cheek, some torn through her clothes, on her stomach. We continued bloodying each other up, and if I wasn't mistaken, we both seemed to be relishing in it. The pain that each of us inflicted on each other, clinging for life.

“Ah, these wounds...they feel...so good,” she spoke with labored breaths, still attacking. Tendrils shot out of my back, but she jumped back and reacted with that same barrier device as our first encounter. Then she tossed it aside and leaped at me, tearing through the tendrils. I screamed, and in retaliation, reached for her stomach and dug my claws deeper, then slashed through. She fell.

Lying on the concrete floor of the roof, she huffed and put her palm over her stomach.

“Heh...you...win.”

“I didn't want to...”

She smiled and winced. “It's funny...I've always heard in movies how people feel cold when they're dying. But this...feels warm.”

“Rhea...”

“What's the matter, princess? You look sad.”

“I never got to know you. Anything about you.”

She tried to laugh, but couldn't manage. “Are you wanting a follow-up session, doc? You still want me to tell you a little about myself?”

“Just tell me.”

“Why? Would it make you happier if I did?”

“Please!”

Her voice got lower, it was clear there wasn't much time left for her. “You better hurry up...this is more...last words...than the human body...ought to give.”

“Yes! It would make me happy if you told me! I'll keep you alive just a little longer if I have to!”

“I'm single and ready to mingle.” She coughed.

I wiped my face. I didn't even know why I was asking such a selfish request.

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, fine. There’s really nothing interesting about me, though.”

“I don’t care, I want to hear it,” I continued to beg. Then, she spoke again.

“I was just someone like you. Just someone looking for her home. Or a means of keeping warm.”

“I wish I could have helped you...”

“You want to do me a favor? Strike a match.”

I conjured up a match and struck it. Flame rested at the top.

“Now give it to me.”

I knelt down and handed it to her. She took it, putting the bottom half of it between her lips.

“Rhea...”

Her eyes closed. I heard her utter a faint few words:

“Now there's a name I haven't heard in years.”

After that, her head turned and I could tell that, even as the flame flickered on, her life was no more.

That it had to come to such a thing, I couldn't stand it. I couldn't live with myself. We were at each other's throats, but she should have had a chance at happiness. I knew what I could do. I could bring her back to life.

I held out my arm, about to bring her back, but I was stopped by the arm of another who held my wrist and set my arm down.

“I don't think she would like that very much,” Juniper muttered.

When did you get here?

“I wish I could have understood her better,” I felt the words come out without any emotion tied to them.

“I think this is what she wanted.”

I turned to my wife. She was pacing around the roof, moving in some sing-song manner.

“How can you be so sure?”

She shrugged. “Oh, I don't know.”

I sat down. “This whole organization, The Flashbulb...they have a tendency to pick some messed up people. Rhea’s partner, Rhea herself, even me, to an extent.”

“That's okay, though, don't you think?”

I shook my head and sighed. “Do you think the only reason you like me right now is because you've been infected by me?”

“Hm...I don't know, but I'm pretty sure I loved you before, so I don't think anything's really changed.”

Whatever the case truly was, I found myself coming to a new conclusion.

“This still doesn't feel right to me. Everything. I don't know what I'm going to do, but I think I need to go.”

She stood right next to me and leaned down.

“Oh yeah? If you must, then I understand.”

“I don't know what the right decision is. Maybe I'll be back. Maybe I shouldn't. But I just think I need to keep searching, for now.”

“Hey,” she poked me. “I'm sure you'll figure it out.”

I got up and found that all my wounds had vanished. My hair, too, was once again silver.

“I don't know where I go. Perchance, I might even fade from existence.”

“If that ends up being the case, just make sure you're happy when you do!”

“I...”

“Hm?”

I looked up to the sky.

“I think you should forget me. I think it would be better that way.”

“Do you want me to?”

“No, but --”

“Then it won't happen, silly!”

“Why not? I want you to!” I balked.

“Too late! I already decided I don’t want to!”

“Does...it even work that way?”

She shrugged, then without warning, grabbed my hands and leaned in for a quick kiss. When we broke free, I tried to think of some parting words.

“I'm sure...in some universe or timeline, that we're together, and we're both happy.”

She nodded. “I'll think about that.”

Once again, I departed, in search of a new universe to reside in.

[tastesoftamriel]

The beginning (a long tale by Talviel)

[Welcome to the first official Fanfic Saturday! Due to the great response I’ve gotten from you all for my first fanfic (thank you guys!), I’ve decided to keep writing! This will be a sporadic thing as I really rely on the motivation and inspiration to do it, but I’ll try to write as often as possible.]

It was Tirdas, 5th of Frost Fall, 4E 200. I tugged my worn cloak around me, shivering as winter began its descent upon Riften. I made my way along the rickety planks along Beggar’s Row and up the stairs into the marketplace, bypassing the stalls to go into the Bee and Barb to buy my parents a bottle of mead for their wedding anniversary. This had been a difficult task, and I’d spent a month saving up the meagre coin I got from catching fish and collecting garbage throughout town just for the occasion. I pushed my way into the tavern, reveling in the warmth from the large roaring fireplace. I hesitantly walked to the bar, meeting the eye of a tough-looking Argonian woman. “We don’t serve minors.” She said, and went back to polishing a tankard. “Nothing for me, Ma'am. I’m just here to buy a bottle of mead for my parents. It’s their wedding anniversary today.” Her expression softened as she took in my rugged, dishevelled state. A poor girl from the worst part of Riften. “Regular Black-Briar or reserve?” She asked. “I think I have only enough coin for regular.” I muttered, embarrassed, and pushed my gold across the counter. She turned around and brought back a bottle of Black-Briar reserve. “Oh, no Ma'am, I can’t afford that-” I stuttered. “Take it. A gift from me to you to your parents.” She smiled, sympathy in her voice. “And the name’s Keerava, not Ma'am. Come back if you need anything, child.” I thanked Keerava profusely, and smiling at the bottle of mead, I made my way to the door.

I felt a pair of eyes trained hard on me and turned around, wondering if she’d changed her mind. Instead, I saw a well-dressed man with shoulder length red hair standing by the door, his arms crossed and eyes fixed on me. He was the most gorgeous human I had ever seen, and I had to try not to gawp or drop the bottle. Acting indifferent, I made my way to the door to go home. The man moved in front of it, blocking the way. I looked up, his keen grey eyes still locked on me. “Running a little light in the pockets, lass?” He asked, a smile playing on his lips. “Gee, how’d you guess?” I asked sarcastically, holding out my arms to display my ragged clothing. “If you’ll excuse me Sir, you’re in my way.” “Just a moment of your time, lass. Come, I’ve got a table in the corner and some food. And I’ve got something to offer you.” “I don’t take sweetrolls from strangers.” I muttered, trying to move past him again yet feeling conflicted because I wanted to stare at his face all day long. He looked about a decade older than me, and I felt a twinge of sadness that we’d never be together. “Please lass, I’ve got an important task you may be able to help me with. Just a moment of your time, and you can be on your way again.” I sighed in agreement and followed him to a comfy secluded nook.

“Alright Mr Mystery Man, what’s this all about?” I asked, helping myself to an apple from the table without asking. “What this is about, lass, is helping to raise you from the gutter to glory. I saw you empty your purse just for one measly bottle of mead. You deserve better.” “I agree, are you going to donate my family 500 septims?” I asked sullenly. The man laughed. “500? 500 is just the beginning, lass. Have you ever heard of the Thieves Guild?” “This is Riften and I’ve lived here all my life. Who hasn’t heard of the Thieves Guild? Are you trying to con me into joining them?” “Con? No lass, simply asking if you would be…interested in a trial run.” I learned back in the padded chair we didn’t own at home. My interest was officially piqued. “Lay it on me, Mystery Man.” I said. He laughed, and it was the most gorgeous laugh in the world. My heart thumped. “How rude of me, I never introduced myself. The name’s Brynjolf. And you are?” “Talviel.” I said, avoiding his gaze for fear my blushing would set me alight.

“Talviel of Riften.” Brynjolf said, rolling my name in his mouth. “Tell me lass, how old are you?” “16.” I said, feeling embarrassingly young. “Let me ask you a strange question, lass. May I see your hands?” I awkwardly put my hands on the table in front of me, and he picked up my right hand to inspect. I held my breath, because the most handsome (and unscrupulous) man in the world was holding it. “Hmm, long dextrous fingers, small hands, light…I’d say that with a little training, you’ll be a master pickpocket in no time at all.” “Look, Brynjolf, I’m not sure about this Thieves Guild stuff. My family work hard and honestly. We may not have much, but we get by.” “Lass, with us you’ll do more than get by. You’ll be able to buy your folks a real house, get to travel Skyrim, eat at the finest establishments without your purse getting any lighter…do you see where I’m going with this?” He asked. I nodded, admittedly swayed. “Look lass, think it over. I’ll be in the market from 8am to 8pm tomorrow. Come see me if you change your mind, and bring a satchel.”

I wandered home with the mead, my mind racing. The notorious Thieves Guild. I squeezed my empty purse, and made my way home. “Oh Talviel, you shouldn’t have!” Exclaimed my mother when she saw the mead. “That’s all your savings gone, you silly child!” I pulled out a sweetcake I’d prepared earlier in the day while my parents were at work, and plonked it on our little dining table. “Happy anniversary.” I smiled wanly, hoping that the next year would be a more prosperous one. We ate a simple meal while chatting, though I hid my encounter at the Bee and Barb from them. I knew I would ruin their special day if they knew I had a trial run for the Guild in the morning.

I made my way to the markets at a little past eight, surprised to see that Brynjolf had set up a makeshift stand loaded with potion bottles. “Ah, you came, lass.” He said with a wry smile. I pointed at the bottles questioningly. “Skeever repellant. Let’s just say we found a ‘supplier’ and have so much of it we don’t know what to do with it. Besides, everyone needs it in a hole like Riften.” He explained. He leaned closer to whisper surreptitiously to me, smelling of cinnamon and cloves. “Now lass, your trial begins. I want you to pick ten pockets before the day is through. That doesn’t mean literally pockets. Satchels, jewellery around necks, stuff the stall keepers leave out in the open. Anyway, ideally I want them to be about 200 gold in value. Think you can manage it?” I nodded uncertainly, glancing around our surroundings. “Does it have to be in the market itself? I know Balimund leaves the forge for lunch around two, and always leaves things lying about.” Brynjolf smiled. “You’re already the most promising candidate I’ve seen in a while, lass, thinking outside the box. Alright, the forge is yours, but try keep it to the market if you can. Good luck, I’ll have my eye on you.”

I gulped, looking around. The morning patrons as well as a few travellers were bustling about, and my eyes scanned the crowd before I made my move. I spotted a Redguard traveller, who clearly had never been to Riften before, as he had a bulging purse of coin hanging from his belt. Acting neutral, I walked forward and bumped into him, my hand snatching the purse at the same time and dropping it into the open satchel I’d prepared on my left side as it was closest to him. I apologised, and went on my way. That was one. Next I crouched behind the pile of cabbages at Grelka’s stand, thinking about poaching a few but thinking better of it as not more than one would fit in my measly satchel. Instead, I waited for her to become engrossed in business with a customer, then sneaking forward, I lifted a strange but expensive-looking dagger strapped to her her boot. Two down. My heart was hammering, but I felt a thrill like nothing before. By noon, I’d made it to six items. Brynjolf distracted the crowd by loudly touting his wares as I worked, his eyes always coming back to me every now and then.

I walked up to Madesi nonchalantly, making some small talk when a traveller pushed me aside, thinking me just a poor child. Annoyed, I reached around with one hand to lightly snatch a newly purchased book and a potion of some sort from his open satchel, biding my time as I saw Madesi unlock his display case for the traveller. They talked at length while picking up the fine jewellery piece by piece to admire, when I saw my opportunity. The traveller had placed a gold hair comb on the edge of the stand instead of back in the case. I loitered around, then ‘accidentally’ knocked the comb to the ground. Neither Madesi nor the traveler seemed to notice, so I tucked it into my satchel and made my way towards Brynjolf, who was taking a break from touting his skeever repellent and sitting on the wall eating some bread.

“Well I’ll be damned lass, are you sure you haven’t done this before?” He said, impressed. “I’ve been counting. Just one more to go. You can do it.” “I need a breather, Brynjolf. I’m starving and tired from concentrating so hard. Let me wait until Balimund is gone, and I’ll grab the last item off his work table.” Brynjolf looked sympathetic. “Aye, lass. Take a seat. I forgot how tiring the first trial is to a rookie.” He said apologetically, breaking off half of his bread to pass to me, as well as a potion of stamina to wake me up. I eagerly chugged down the potion and devoured the bread within a minute. “Lass, when’s the last time you ate?” Brynjolf sounded concerned. “Last night.” I replied, dusting the crumbs off myself. “My family can only afford to eat once a day, so we just have dinner.” “No wonder you’re a little runt. Where do you live, lass?” “A small hut on Beggar’s Row.” I mumbled. Brynjolf noticed me blushing and hanging my head in shame. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of, lass. I was in your shoes, once upon a time. Can I get you anything else to eat?” “If it’s not too much, I’d be really grateful.” I sighed, my stomach rumbling. “Come on, let’s go to the B and B.” He said, gently pushing me off the wall.

By the time I’d ravenously made my way through a large bowl of rabbit stew and a plate of cut fruit, I noticed it was about time Balimund was off for lunch. “Well,” I said, “no time like the present. I’m going to the forge now. Do I meet you back at the marketplace after?” Brynjolf shook his head. “No. You’re to make your way through the Ratways. Go all the way through and you’ll find yourself at a small tavern called the Ragged Flagon. I’ll meet you there. By the way,” he suddenly said, “you can fight, can’t you, lass?” “If you mean whacking a slaughterfish dead, I guess so.” I said, feeling my gut churn. From the day I was born, my parents had strictly instructed me never to go anywhere near the Ratways, as nothing but trouble lay within. “Then I suggest you lift a blade off Balimund. You’ll need it.” “Brynjolf, is there another way through? I don’t know if I can do this.” “Sorry lass, but you’re on your own. Every rookie’s done it, even me. I was just ten when I joined the Guild, and I’m still standing. I believe in you, lass. Now go, I’ll see you at the Flagon.” He said, ruffling my hair.

Balimund was gone, as I’d expected. I walked around the forge, looking around discreetly in case anyone was watching. There was nothing near the bellows, so I sneaked toward the working bench. Jackpot. A sword lay there, simple but sharp and glinting in the afternoon sun. It was heavier than I expected, but I tucked it into my belt and uneasily made my way towards the Ratways. Taking a deep breath, I silently opened the door and stepped in. The smell of stale urine, vomit, and alcohol filled my nostrils and made me gag. The slimy walls were dimly lit by sputtering tallow candles. I sneaked my way around the corner, only to find two sleeping figures. Rumour had it that only the worst criminal scum and madmen lived in the Ratways. If possible, I would try to avoid them, knowing by their hefty builds that I would be crushed in a second if they woke up. As silently as possible, I tiptoed past them, and it was only when I was in the next room I allowed myself to breathe again. Suddenly, a chorus of squeaking emanated from a large gap in the wall, and three skeevers charged at me without warning. Awkwardly but as quickly as possible, I drew the sword and slashed at them one by one. I felt a nip through my worn shoes and plunged the sword down, spattering blood everywhere. In a minute, they were all dead. I decided right there and then that I hated killing.

Sticking to the walls, I inched my way through the Ratways, hoping my final destination was near. As I nervously made my way down a ladder to get to the other side of a large chamber, I suddenly heard a cackle. Human. I swore under my breath and drew my blade again. A ragged figure crawled towards me and I inhaled hard. In the dim light, I managed to make out the figure of an old woman rising to her feet, her white hair tangled. With unexpected speed and a screech, she charged at me, and I flailed at her with my sword. She ducked and threw me to the ground. “No!” I shouted, kicking and trying to pry my arms from her grasp. She held me down, and only then I saw sharp fangs heading to my neck. In a panic, I wrapped my legs around her and flipped her over with a strength I didn’t know I had. Caught off guard, she released my arms and I plunged my sword into her heart with all the strength I could muster. She let out a scream, and crumbled into dust. Before anything more could happen, I rushed up the ladder on the opposite side, holding back tears. I was a killer. I was no better than the Dark Brotherhood. In a daze, I made my way through a narrow corridor, pushing open a few rusty gates, and came upon a wooden door. I pushed it open without thinking, my blade still in my limp right hand.

I was in a dingy circular room. Ahead, a worn wooden sign advertised the Ragged Flagon. I’d made it. I inched my way across a narrow stone path, trying not to fall into the murky water beneath, and found Brynjolf, now dressed in leather armour with a hood over his red hair, standing by the bar counter along with a woman and two men. They were deep in conversation and only turned around when I dropped my satchel on the floor. “Lass! You made it!” Brynjolf called delightedly, coming towards me. He noticed my distressed face, and leaned down to eye level with me. “Lass, Talviel, are you alright?” To my horror and embarrassment, the tears I’d been holding back since stabbing the vampire came rushing out, wracking my body with loud sobs. “Lass, what happened?” He unexpectedly hugged me, and I sobbed into his shoulder. “I…I killed her, Brynjolf. I killed her, I didn’t mean to, but she attacked me, and I didn’t know what to do…” I rambled, feeling an absolute mess. “Oh please, she was just a vampire.” The pale woman at the bar with long blonde hair called out. Brynjolf whipped around, suddenly angry. “You knew a fucking vampire would be down there? Vex, you irresponsible twat, the lass could have contracted Sanguinare Vampiris, and then what? She’s just a child!” He yelled, and Vex looked unfazed. “A vampire could always be useful to us.” She shrugged, taking a swig from her flagon. “Vex, I swear to the Nine Divines…” Brynjolf growled, looking about ready to punch her. “Easy, easy, our little Vex here evidently miscalculated the strength of her opponent but the girl is here and alive.” The bald man with a deep and grating voice said, jumping between the two. He turned to me. “What’s your name, child?” “T-Talviel.” I stuttered, wiping the last of the tears off my cheeks and angry at myself for making such an embarrassing introduction. “Lovely to make your acquaintance. I’m Delvin. Well Talviel, I’m going to take your satchel to Tonilia over there so she can count out your loot from today. No need to cry. Get yourself together and Brynjolf will take you into the cistern to see Mercer. If all goes well, you’ll be our sister in crime.” He said, unexpectedly gently. Brynjolf put a hand on my shoulder. “Come on, lass. Time to introduce you to the big boss.”

We made our way through an unsuspecting storage cupboard and pushed through the door hidden behind it. A towering domed ceiling rose above us, while a few people walked around, going about their business. The centre of the room was divided by stone pathways leading to a wide circular centre, and was surrounded by water. In a corner stood a statue of a woman I didn’t recognise. At the opposite end of the room was a large desk and bookcase, with a sour-looking Breton man scribbling in a ledger. Brynjolf led me across the central pathway towards him, and introduced us. “Doesn’t look like much to me.” The man, Mercer Frey, grunted, clearly annoyed that we’d interrupted his work. “Still, scrawny is good. Get into tight spaces and all. Now listen carefully kid, because I’m only going to say this once.” He went on a long monologue about the history of the Thieves Guild and my duties and responsibilities. I nodded on cue and willed it to be over with. Eventually, he met my eye. “Welcome to the family.” He said. “Now get lost, I’ve got work to do.” Brynjolf guided me away and smiled. “Well done, you’re part of the Guild now. Welcome to the family, lass.”