#maybe their last name even IS Pleasant-Tree

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

it does pretty clearly say "WOMAN'S evening primrose"

i am always on some level thinking about aloe vera evening primrose

[livingdeadgirlflorette]

SO HIGH ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ carl grimes x reader

summary : getting caught smoking at your age isn't a good thing, but maybe getting caught smoking by the new guy's son isn't so bad at all, especially since he looked so cute.

tags / rundown : slight angst at the start, almost kissing, underage smoking, shotgunning, set in alexandria, carl is easily flustered, reader's parent's are pronounced dead (womp womp)

word count : 2.8k

a/n : this fic was inspired by me listening to so high by doja lols. since my midterms ended, i've decided to write this with my free time. hope it was worth it (∩_∩;) also i'll be writing a part 2 to "late night kisses", just dk where to start ( ´△｀) lmk if you want to be tagged in it!

dividers by @cafekitsune ꩜ .ᐟ

PART 2: YOUR FACE ⟡₊⋆∘

Alexandria seemed like such a pleasant escape from the shithole of the world we're living in today. Living almost two years by yourself from. . . unfortunate circumstances between your parents and an unexpected herd of walkers that had invaded your base camp. With a heavy heart and an even emptier stomach, that had left you scrounging for anything to survive. Food, water, a place to sleep in— it felt like you were just barely living day by day.

With all hope lost and no destination ahead, you just kept walking— no goal or end in mind, just walk until you found a place that could help you regain the empty feeling in you. To your surprise, a place like that still existed— a sanctuary called Alexandria. The first time you ever entered the gates, you felt like a deer in headlights. It all looked different from the outside world, giving you a sense of hope, a small beacon of hope that it would get better.

But even with all the good things that come with it, it still felt like you were so out of place. The pristine, large houses and the children laughing, acting as if nothing had ever even happened. Unrightfully, it irked you. They didn't know what it was like living day by day, not knowing if the last place you'd stay and shut your eyes for shelter in would be your last. They didn't know what it was like to starve, famished to the point you'd eat raw animal just so you could have something in your stomach. They didn't know what it was like to lose people by shooting them using their own gun. They didn't know.

All the feelings of jealousy, envy, and sadness spiraling in you, was overwhelming you to the point of just crying until you had no tears left. But you would never let them know that. It would be a stupid move to show weakness, especially in the state of the world. So you sneak out.

Sneaking out of Alexandria was a therapeutic event. Every time you do this it relaxes you, knowing what would come after would be the cherry on top to help you wind down and let your feelings fizzle out.

With you far enough from Alexandria where you knew no supply runners or recruiters would catch you, you walked through the forest, trying to find a place that's quiet. Seemingly in a matter of minutes, you find a small clearing. Peaceful and from your scoping of the forest, no walkers.

You sit down next to a tree and put your bags down, then finally sitting down, leaning on the large vegetation. Pulling out a pack of cigarettes, you fiddle around your jacket pockets and suddenly stop when you hear a voice call out to you, seemingly unimpressed.

"You know that kills you, right?" You turn around to put a body to the disembodied voice, and you see it's the boy from that one group that Aaron had recruited. You weren't that tuned in to the whole story, but you saw enough to know that they were like you, different, in the sense that you'd been out there, living through the apocalypse.

From overhearing Ron and Mikey talk about if they should him to play videogames, you knew the boy's name was Carl. He was cute, interesting, boyish in a way that he still had that youthful face, yet he was mature to have so much control over his emotions and body language and the way he carried himself.

If it were someone different, you'd just ignore the person and tell them to leave you alone. But you had the idea Carl wouldn't be such an annoyance to you, so you decide to entertain yourself by speaking with him.

"That's kind of the point." Finally, you find you lighter in your back pocket and proceed to tap on the cigarette box, pulling one out and putting it between your lips.

You didn't what to continue talking right now, wanting to just focus on matter at hand. You were thinking how to tell him but you were pleasantly surprised to see that he'd gotten the message, and just walked next to the spot on your tree, and sat down next to you.

Raising an eyebrow at him, you question his motive. Why would he even talk to you? more so why would he try to sit next to you? he has nothing to gain from this. . .

Continuing your actions, you flick open the lighter and the fire sparks burst out, creating a small flame. It fills you with relaxation. You lean in, just close enough to light your cigarette and when you finally inhale the comforting tobacco— you sigh out the smoke, lazily blinking. Your eyes dart up to the sky, watching the smoke from your mouth go up and away.

You look back to Carl, realizing you barely noticed he'd comfortably situated himself— with his signature sheriff's hat that he donned on the grass next to him and a comic book open in his hands.

You guess he wouldn't really be a nuisance, he would just be next to you while you let out your puffs of tobacco. So you scoot a little closer to him. What you didn't notice was how he saw you moving closer, unable to hide a ghost of a smile before it disappeared completely.

The sky was turning into an entrancing shade of cool colors. It seemed like time passes faster when you're smoking, only focused on changing the cigarette when it's on its last puff, and breathing in and slowly out to watch the result of your sighs for it to go up into presumably the clouds. You wish you could stay here forever. Carl was quietly reading the second comic book he'd brought, not having any plan to talk to you and your relaxed state. The boy's company was actually, comforting in the sense that you had someone with you.

But you had noticed he kept glancing at you and more so, your lips. You know the reason. He's obviously curious. From your knowledge, teenage boys are typically rebellious, so you figured he'd want to try a small puff.

The silence that had been enveloping the majority of your time together was broken by you.

"You want to try it?" His eyes jolt up from the scene in the comic he's reading, sincerely surprised you'd ask.

"I- uh- yeah i'd like to uhm— I wanna try it." He tries to find the right words, but seemingly they all just turn into mush when he sees you.

Your eyes are lidded, your body languid— presumably from all the tobacco you'd been smoking, and your lips are plump, slightly open. With that look, it's enough to send blood rushing to his cheeks, his eyes darting blinking rapidly and looking slightly down to hide his blossoming blush.

Even in your smoke-induced haze, you still notice this. Seeing him act all bashful and shy in front of you, it makes you feel giddy inside. You let out an airy chuckle and you hand him the cigarette.

"Knock yourself out." You tell him. With a nervous gaze, he musters up his courage and looks at you. Hesitantly taking the cigarette in your hands. But you undoubtedly notice his hands brush against yours as he took the lit stick of tobacco.

Carl then calculatively puts the cigarette in his mouth, inhaling before letting out a dry heaving cough. You giggle at him, you know it's a common mistake but he just looks so cute trying to do it properly.

"How do you even do it without coughing—" His words were cut off by another cough he let out, he seemed like he was having a hard time so you gently put your hand on his back, lightly patting it to help him cough.

"It's okay, I kept coughing a fit the first time I did it." You assured him, wondering how you could help him get through it, until you finally clicked, realizing what you should do to have him experience it properly.

"Do you want me to help you?" Your voice is gentle and calm so you don't startle him. He looks at you, his coughing had seemed to cease. His posture went straight, eyebrows furrowed. What could you possibly to do help him smoke without him wheezing?

Carl silently gives you an okay, slightly nodding as he does. "Don't freak out, okay?" He's curious, what would you do to help him? But then he sees your actions, you take the cigarette in between his calloused fingers and put it back into your mouth, taking in a small intake.

He's uncertain on what you're about to do, questions going in and out of his head. But you silence those answers by taking the cigarette out of your mouth, then grabbing his chin with your free hand to have his face an inch apart from yours.

His mouth is open in awe and disbelief. He can feel his heart beating out of his chest when you take you open your mouth, slowly blowing the smoke into his mouth. He quickly understands what you're doing, slowly breathing in the puff of smoke with his mouth.

With the last blow of your lips sending the smoke, You make eye contact with him. Your eyes were all this time trained on his lips, focusing so he wouldn't move. His breath hitches when he finally has all of the smoke you had in your mouth.

It's overwhelming for Carl, really— knowing all the puffs of tobacco he had in his mouth were in yours, and how close you still are to his face, it makes him want to shoot his heart out into the darkening sky. Realizing he's been looking too long at your face and not releasing the smoke, he lets it out slowly, watching your every move.

You look at him, letting a small smirk grace your face as you lean back. He doesn't know why he has such a dissatisfied feeling when you pull back though, It's so perplexing to him.

"We should get back to the gates, I think your father would be worried that his son's been missing." You put the cigarette out, standing up and patting your jeans off, shooing the dirt off your clothing. You look back to Carl, the emotion on his face evidently stupefied.

"Yeah— my dad's probably looking for me by now so," He scrambles also to fix himself up, turning slightly away from you. He tries to find more words, but it leaves him with only a few.

"We should go." He finally says. He wanted to save himself from the embarrassment he'd feel from you seeing his blush.

Carl thought what he was doing was ridiculous though; it was getting dark, you wouldn't be able to see color on his face unless you were close and squinted hard enough. But he does so anyway.

The rest of the walk back to Alexandria you're standing side by side, walking with him. You fail to ignore that tingly and rushed feeling whenever his hands accidentally brush yours, making your cheeks flush. You look at him, curious if he also felt the way feeling you were experiencing.

Carl felt quite befuddled, he was so perplexed at the thought of you. There was a swirling feeling in his heart. He wondered if what he was feeling was just from the nicotine in those cigarettes or if it was because of you, but then his question gets answered when he looks at you.

With the eye contact you guys had, you smile bashfully and look straight back at the path. He made you smile, and that was enough for him to know he was interested. He wanted to know more about you, and what it would feel like to have your face close to him again. Hopefully next time it would be to feel your lips on his, and not just the smoke.

I'm not sure if I like this, but it fueled my imagination of smoking with Carl so I don't really mind (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) .ᐟ.ᐟ

[cherrixpie]

NEMESIS

chapter two of five

↬ you were supposed to steer clear of mattheo riddle. shame that he was just so intriguing.

↬ sfw; wc: 5.8k; cw: mentions of blood; tags: enemies to lovers; gryffindor!reader, muggleborn!reader

( masterlist )

To your pleasant surprise, your detention, as you were informed the next day, would take place that evening with Hagrid. Years ago, you had befriended the gamekeeper through Harry. And though this meant that there was a good chance of going into the dark forest for the detention, you would much rather do that with Hagrid than clean some classroom under Filch’s scrutinizing stare. Only the prospect of spending the evening in the presence of Riddle and Malfoy sent your nerves ablaze as you walked out into the dark school grounds the following evening, your book bag over the shoulder and heading straight towards the little speck of light that was Hagrid’s cabin.

It was a cold November night, and even in your coat, you felt chilly. Your breathing was visible as a curling fog in the air, wandering up into a clear sky that displayed an incredible assortment of stars. As you made a point of following the rules to the tee, you were rarely outside at this our, and you didn't belong to the groups of people who headed up to the Astronomy tower for a fuck or a smoke. Laying somewhere in the Scottish countryside, the castle was far away from any city deserving of the name. The lack of artificial light made the stars shine impossibly bright. It was as if the skies opened their gates as you stilled to look up and admire, they seemed to take up even the corners of the vision as if you yourself hovered in their midst.

In a moment of silly delight at the beauty surrounding you, you blew out a long breath and it swirled above you before fading quickly. With half a mind, you realized how stupid you had to look right now, standing still and gazing upwards. The lack of movement made coldness creep up your body and you shivered, but you were still transfixed.

“Well, what's a pretty girl like you doing in a soggy old place like this?”

You shot around, startled. Riddle and Malfoy were approaching you. The former had spoken and now wore a smile of ridicule. Malfoy, on the other hand, looked like smiling was the last thing he would ever think about. His wary eyes flickered to the great black mass that was the dark forest, then to you with a glare.

Ignoring Riddle’s comment, you accelerated your steps and gripped the handle of your book bag tighter. But still, he was but a few steps behind you, evident by the sound of moist leaves ruffling under his feet. Draco, cursing under his breath, seemed to trail behind him at a short distance. Riddle caught up with you when Hagrid’s hut became clear against the blackness of the trees. You expected him to say something derogatory or mean, so his question surprised you. “Always carrying around a bag of books with ya, around ya, princess?” A teasing smile pulled at his lips, but he didn't seem outwardly aggressive.

Against your better judgement, you found yourself responding to him. “Maybe we need the school stuff for something. In detention I mean.”

“Need?” Riddle mocked your tone and chuckled. “You could always throw it at a werewolf when it jumps at you, I suppose.” Against your will, you found yourself throwing him quick glances. His hands were in his pockets, he'd ditched his cloak and his white shirt shone bright against the dark. With comical precision, you found the inevitable specks of blood at the collar. Riddle seemed fully relaxed at the idea of going into the forest, but that didn't surprise you. Slimy, dark, cold… It probably felt like home to him. You bit your lip at the thought, glad you hadn't said it out loud. Even for a guy like Riddle, it seemed harsh.

“If you want to undress me, no need to only use your eyes.” A lazy grin tugged at his lips as he blew you a kiss and reveled in your flustered reaction. Stupid fuck. Turning scarlet, you stuffed your hands in your pockets with the intent to ignore him for the rest of the night.

Hagrid awaited you in front of his cabin, a crossbow over his shoulder. When you arrived, he greeted you cheerfully but regarded Malfoy and Riddle with a resentful frown. Upon hearing your voice, Fang came running from behind the hut, wagging his tail and barking excitedly at the familiar face. You crouched down and ignored how wetness seeped through your clothes to scratch the dog behind his ear and let him lap at your face. The remaining dog slobber, you brushed away with your sleeve.

“You lot will be helping me out tonight,” Hagrid announced as you stood up, Fang still glued to your leg and wagging his tail. A soft thumping sounded through the cool night air when it hit the ground in rapid succession. “We are taking a look at the plant population of one grata insidia today, whether they've been affected by the cold weather, since this is the first season they're growing here. You should know how they look from your herbology class.” Right. You remembered the plant. A blue, phosphorescent flower with flowing leaves that could ensnare flies in an instance.

“When you found some,” Hagrid continued, “You sketch ‘em. Make sure you get the leaves in detail, they're the most important part. Don't make light with your wands, though, they might retract.” Clearing his throat, he looked around at the three of you. You noticed he looked away from Riddle quickly and were reminded of the fact that he had known his father before he had shed his mortal parts. Then, you, shaking like a leaf, and Malfoy. As you glanced at the latter, you noticed he was even paler than usual and looked a little green around the nose, as if he was about to throw up. Reminded of the last time he'd had detention in the dark forest, you hid your grin in your scarf.

Hagrid seemed to remember the encounter as well. “We're pairing up in two’s. Malfoy, you're with me,” he grumbled, “after last time. Except-” He glanced at you worriedly, as if he'd just concluded what that would entail for you. “I mean… if it's alright with you?” Smiling at the guilty look on his face, you nodded into your scarf. Though his large face was still etched with concern, Hagrid scowled as he looked at Riddle, and it seemed to cost him a lot of willpower. “Don't try anything funny, or you'll be in real trouble.” Riddle answered mit no more than a derogative glare, quite unlike the teasing grins he threw at you when Hagrid turned away.

You had noticed before how scowling, sinister Mattheo Riddle would be much more, for lack of a better term, cheerful around you. More at ease, maybe. He probably didn't even see you as a person and therefore felt relaxed enough to subject you to an endless stream of those mocking smiles that didn't deserve to be nearly as attractive as they were. Objectively, of course. Now, as you looked at him, he met your gaze and the scowl was exchanged for a smirk. “Looks like your bag'll come in handy, princess.”

“Told you,” you muttered as Hagrid told Fang to stay by his side, still throwing suspicious looks at Riddle. He announced what parts of the forest you would cover and when to return. Then, it was off into the dark.

The trees seemed to engulf you the moment you set foot in their midst, they swallowed all light, even shielded you from the stars. You couldn't even see your own hands as you carefully felt your surroundings. Behind you, Mattheo ignited his wand and you shot around. “We- we’re not supposed to do that!” you hissed at him but he only raised his brows at you. “The plant retracts when there's light,” you reminded him, knowing he was fully aware.

“If you want to stumble around the dark, be my guest,” he said dryly. “But you looked like an idiot there and also pretty tasty to all sorts of predators.” You didn't like his smile. But as much as you hated to admit it, he was right. If you trotted blindly into the most monster infested forest in Great Britain, you'd not come back in one piece. A problem such as that didn't occur to a half giant like Hagrid, of course, but you… An idea plopped into your head and you turned back to Mattheo, who seemed to have been watching your silent contemplation with mild interest.

“If it's so important to you,” you said, “cast a patronus. The light is dimmer and it can lead the way.” You thought it was a good idea that united both your interests, but Mattheo suddenly looked at you as he'd never looked before. A dark, dangerous look in his eyes that you'd only witnessed from afar. The cold glare was menacing and it had cold shivers run down your spine.

Mattheo looked into your widened eyes and enjoyed the fear on your face. Hopefully, you would be too scared to ask again. You didn't, but it was worse. Your eyes widened even further before you quickly averted them, shuffled away from him and cast your patronus yourself. A lean cat that glanced at him grumpily, then disappeared into the dark with you hot on its heels. You were just running into the dark, wand somewhere in your pocket. Did you not have a single survival instinct in your body? For a moment, he considered just letting you run off and having a laugh about iu. But alas, with a groan of annoyance, Mattheo followed suit.

Though your path was now illuminated by the soft blue light of your animagus, in your haste, you still tripped over roots and got scratches from thorny branches and bushes. You were somewhat relieved to hear footsteps behind you. Upon his arrival, your patronus slowed down a pace until Riddle had caught up with you. You walked in silence and you pulled your cloak tighter around yourself in a feeble attempt to banish the coldness that had seeped down into your bones. Next to you, Riddle sauntered on with an unreadable expression, wand lazily at his side. Other than you, who kept glancing behind bushes and into the undergrowth, he didn't seem remotely interested in finding the damn flower. Not that you felt any excitement to find some flower and sketch it, but perhaps you felt the need to show your moral superiority.

After a few awkward minutes of walking in silence, you finally spotted a faint glow against a tree. Without a word to your silent companion, you accelerated your steps and made a beeline towards the tree, your coat getting caught in a thorny bush and you ripped it away. It was the right one. You knew the second you rounded the tree. A blue hue painted its surroundings in a ghostly cold color. When Riddle joined you with an expression of all this being beneath him, you had already crouched down and pulled out parchment and pencil. Then, you hesitated and looked up at him. You were a lousy sketcher.

Riddle rolled his eyes and took the parchment from you, mumbling something under his breath. As he kneeled down onto the ground and started his sketch, he threw you a sharp look. “Since you can't even draw, would you kindly look out for giant spiders or something?” He was tense, but you weren't sure that was because you were in here or because of the patronus thing. By his aggressive reaction, you had a pretty clear suspicion that he couldn't conjure a patronus. Surely not for lack of trying, though. Before he could snap at you, you turned away and glanced into the dark, aided by your patronus, without really seeing anything.

After a few minutes of this, you noticed you'd started creeping closer to Riddle without even noticing. In the dim light of the flowers, you were able to glance over his shoulder at the parchment, and your jaw dropped. It was good. He'd managed to sketch a damn near perfect replica of the flower, including shades and careful weighting of pencil pressure. You watched his hands work as he frowned in concentration. Long, elegant strokes were interrupted by sharp, repeated patterns. Though you didn't know anything about sketching, you were pretty sure he was amazing.

A sound of surprise left your throat and Riddle’s hand you had been studying intently stilled its movement. He raised his brows at you and you bit down on your cheek. Stupid. “Uhm,” you said, suddenly nervous, but no longer afraid. Seeing him draw made him somewhat human. You'd never even considered Mattheo Riddle could have interests and skills beyond the dark arts. Like normal people. “That… looks good, I- I mean-” You felt thankful for the darkness, “it's really beautiful, I didn't know you were so good at this.” Of course you didn't. You were such an idiot.

Riddle looked somewhat taken aback, but quickly resumed his sketching. His lack of an answer made you step from one foot to the other and you fiddled at your wand. But you couldn't help yourself, you simply had to turn back around and watch his moving hands. It was a graceful motion, which was not an adjective you'd ever thought you'd apply to Mattheo Riddle.

“Thank you.”

You did a double take. Surely, you had to have misheard, or a trickster spirit had messed with your senses. Riddle gave no indication wether he'd actually thanked you, but got to his feet and threw the parchment at you. When you rolled it up and studied the drawing, you realized just how detailed it was. How he had somehow managed to translate its glow onto the parchment. With a clearing of your throat, you put it in your back and looked up at him. Riddle was already looking, studying you closely, as if he was trying to measure your reaction. Giving him an instinctive, nervous smile, you crooked your head towards the black wall of trees. “Should we…?”

With a nod, Riddle stepped into the undergrowth and you followed behind. Small animals crossed your path, and you were thankful they weren't bigger. Somehow, Riddle seemed to have much less trouble getting past bushes and overgrown trees than you, and you wondered wether he was using a spell on himself or on you. Just when you violently ripped at your sleeve, stuck in a thorn bush, he spoke up and you froze. His tone was conversational, but there was a teasing edge to it, like he wanted to test you. “So, what would your parents say when they found out you were alone in the dark forest with Mattheo Riddle?”

You shrugged, even though he couldn't see that. “Nothing, probably.” With a few long strides, you managed to catch up with him and now, the spell that he had cast around himself seemed to apply to you as well. At least you got through the undergrowth way more smoothly. Mattheo didn't know if you were joking, but when you cast him a side glance, he didn't need legilimancy to know you were telling the truth.

“Huh?” he said and you frowned, as if he was supposed to know. You didn't answer at first, taking the lead as if you wanted to escape his eyes. Curious that you chose to do that by turning your back on him. Then, you spoke into the impenetrable darkness before you. “They're muggles. If I told them I was going into a dark forest with a Mattheo Riddle, well…” you seemed to smile, he could hear it in your voice, “My mum would tell me to use protection and my dad would get his club.”

So you were a muggleborn. He didn't know why that surprised him so much. Now that he thought about it, he was pretty sure Draco had mentioned it once, but he hadn't cared enough to remember. When he didn't say anything, you seemed to feel obligated to break the silence. “Funny, huh? If I told them your name, it wouldn't mean anything to them.” That thought was funny. Mattheo was a little shocked at how much he liked it. It just now occurred to him that there was a giant mass of people that had no idea of his parentage, his legacy. That would just see him as a normal guy, nothing special there. If he'd known anyone who knew anything about muggles, he'd considered asking what kind of jobs they had available.

“Yeah,” he said after a short silence and you tried to grasp his reaction to the news. Though you'd never heard Riddle say something hateful at muggleborns since second grade, you gripped your wand a little tighter. You'd thought he knew, and that was why he loved to annoy you. Would the news change how he saw you? And, more importantly, why did you care? “Your friends weren't stoked though, were they?” he asked and pulled you out of your thoughts.

Biting down on your lip, the truth just sort of slipped past them. “I … didn't tell them.” In your peripheral vision, you caught him raise his head subtly but you stared straight ahead. “They're protective,” you explained, as if you had to justify yourself before him.

“Yeah, I saw that yesterday,” Riddle snorted and rummaged in his pockets for something. “Weasley went mental, just his bad luck that he doesn't have anything to back the attitude up."

“What?” Your head shot around so fast you thought you heard something crack in your neck. That was not in alignment with the story you'd heard. Then again, you didn't put it past your friends to lie to you to protect your feelings.

“They didn't tell you, did they?” asked Riddle mockingly and you could practically hear his smirk seeping through his poisonous tone.

“Tell me what?” you inquired, frowning at him. Riddle had found what he was looking for and pulled out a pack of cigarettes from his robes. He took his time with the answer as he twirled it between his fingers and lighted it with a bit of wandless magic. After a long drag out of the cigarette, he blew out a cloud of smoke and looked back at you. “Potter and Weasley overheard Nott talking about you."

“Heavens, that whole brawl was my fault?” you entreated anxiously, fisting your robes in one hand as you remembered the bruises on Harry’s face and Ron’s broken bag that he spent the whole evening trying to repair. Guilt gnawed at you at the thought that they'd gotten hurt defending your honor. If you had just been there, you could have stopped them, told them that it was no big deal.

“Your fault?” echoed Riddle incredulously and you shrugged and avoided his gaze. "Well... I mean... I never meant for anyone to get hurt because of me."

“Apology accepted,” he grinned and the audacity made you splutter out an indecipherable response. Riddle chuckled, the cigarette dangling dangerously loosely out of his pink lips. To your surprise, his amusement did have something contagious, because you found yourself grinning against your will. You could only hope the light of your patronus would be dim enough to allow your smile to go unnoticed.

“So,” you asked as your eyes swept the area for other flowers. “What did Nott say to make Ron freak out?” It wasn't so much that you wanted to know, more so that you wanted to keep the conversation going. Riddle was less terrifying when he didn't just stare menacingly. He took his time to answer and twirled the cigarette through his fingers. Then, a teasing smile tugged at his lips, though his voice was free of malice. “Don't know if you can take it, princess.”

Defiance welled up in you and you shoved your hands into your pockets. “Believe me, I can. There is nothing you could say that I didn't already think of myself." It came out a little more bitter than you'd planned, so you concealed the hard undertone with a little laugh. Riddle didn't react, so you walked on in silence for a few minutes. When he hadn't said anything in a while, you considered changing the topic, but that was when he finally spoke up. “He called you a walking encyclopedia nobody asked for and, that you probably get up early to polish prefect patches."

You had expected way worse and chuckled to yourself. “That's pretty creative.”

“You don't seem offended,” Riddle said. It was not a question, it was a statement.

“I do polish my prefect patch sometimes,” you shrugged with an embarrassed grin. You were astounded how easy it was to talk to him all of the sudden. "I just don't get why Ron got so worked up on that."

Riddle’s lip curled slightly. “Nott may have said some other things, didn't really listen." After another few seconds of silence, he discarded his cigarette and changed the topic to light hearted teasing. “So, tell me, do Gryffindors practice being so annoyingly righteous, or is it just instinct?” If it hadn't been Riddle, you'd have almost mistaken his tone for a flirting one.

“Oh, we practice,” you replied. “Right after the lesson on how to tolerate Slytherins.” In the dark, you somehow felt more confident. Riddle seemed more human, more approachable, so far away from the castle, from your friends, from anyone. You realized you had been burning to finally engage with his little games instead of attempting to ignore them and letting him have all the fun. At the same time, his teasing seemed more conversational than mean tonight. “Why are you being so nice?” you asked into the silence without looking at him. “It's weird.”

“Would you rather I be mean?” asked Riddle. “Because I can go back to that if it makes you feel better.” Maybe it would. You felt almost guilty at the prospect of going back to Gryffindor tower and telling your friends, who probably had found out about the detention through Ginny by now, that it hadn't been that bad spending the evening with you-know-who’s son. But still, you answered: “No. it's okay.”

“Tell me something, will you?” He'd stopped walking and you hesitated, turning back around to face him. The dim light of your patronus left part of his face shrouded in darkness, but his eyes glinted and they were locked on you. His dark locks were moved in the wind like sea grass, but even still, the cold didn't seem to affect him one bit. His voice was soft, unnaturally smooth, perfectly balanced to slip past your walls and your lies. Not for the first time, you felt as if he could read your mind. Helplessly, you nodded, and a shiver ran through you when a gush of wind caused the dead leaves to dance around you.

“Are you scared of me?”

The question caught you off guard and you had to take your time to think about the answer. Up at the castle, you were scared of him, at least intimidated, and preferred to keep your distance. In here, alone with him, however, you felt no fear, only intrigue. To say you weren't afraid of him would be a lie, but its counterpart as well. Your eyes flickered down to his hands, his wand. No doubt he'd detected it, Riddle was awfully good at picking up on the slightest movements. As if he was trying to test your reaction, daring you to flinch back, he took a step closer to you.

“A bit,” you confessed truthfully, but you didn't step back. In fact, you dared to shuffle a bit towards him, so that only few inches separated the two of you. “You have to admit you're pretty intimidating, Riddle.”

“Am I?” A predatory grin adorned his face and he inched closer in an effort to find it. The barrier you wouldn't dare to cross. The point when you'd turn away or avert your eyes. Somehow, you managed to work up the courage to do neither. You lifted your chin and stared into his dark brown eyes defiantly. His grin widened and pleasant surprise and he hummed under his breath. “Are you intimidated right now, princess?” Somehow, you couldn't lie. Maybe because you guessed he would know, or could hear your thundering heartbeat.

“A little.”

When he’d first spotted you at the sorting ceremony, he'd thought you looked pathetic, trembling and glancing around nervously. When you had snapped at him in fourth grade, he'd noted you down as an annoying up-tight brat with more bark than bite. In fifth grade, he'd started to see you as a stupid little fangirl of Potter’s. Then, when you were sixteen, you were just some easy to rile up teacher's pet. Seventh grade had only worsened that condition. But Mattheo had never noticed that you looked… pretty. Too busy hating you, he'd never looked twice. But now, he found himself drinking you in.

Your patronus illuminated half of your face, slightly quivering lips, adorably furrowed brows. But your eyes were the most mesmerizing part, which was something he never expected to think about anyone. You looked him straight in the eye when admitting your weakness, as if it were a strength, as if your weaknesses and fears didn't need to be hidden. It was infuriating, he realized. Immediately, he regretted noticing these things about you. This had gone too far, and he'd been too intrigued by you to stop the situation from escalating.

Mattheo had meant for you to be his plaything for the evening. It was him who was supposed to be holding the cards and play you, but now, it felt like you were an active player yourself. For some reason, he even felt slightly disarmed, as if you'd gotten one over at him. But by doing what? Admitting defeat? Abruptly, he stepped back and turned away. “Let's find that stupid half-giant, I've got enough of walking around this fucking forest aimlessly.”

You were a little shocked by his sudden change of mood and didn't speak up again until you emerged from the trees and spotted Hagrid and Malfoy. Both looked disgruntled and the latter had leaves and twigs all over his robes and in his hair. You realized you probably didn't look any better. Riddle, on the other hand, was free of any forest remnants somehow. With a sinister glare, he stepped over to Hagrid with long strides, so you had to hurry after him.

“Oh, there she is!” greeted Ron’s voice when you slipped through the portrait hole twenty minutes later, exhausted and out of breath and not very excited at the prospect of finishing your homework for the day. Your friends were huddled around the fire, looking both worried, amused and angry. You had been right, they had been informed of your detention- and the nature of it. Without a reply, you plopped into the seat next to Hermoine’s with a groan and pulled your legs up to your chest to rest your chin upon your knees. Finally, you were warmed up by the common room fire and the chilling cold of the grounds seeped out of your bones.

“Didn't think we would get you back in one leave,” Harry muttered darkly and scanned you up and down. “You look like you were just chased by an acromantula straight through the forest.” Leaning over in his seat, he plucked a few twigs and leafs out of your hair to throw them into the fire. You let him and sighed. “Ginny told you, huh?”

“Neville did, actually,” Hermoine said, somewhat accusatory. “What were you thinking, attacking Malfoy in the hallway?” You looked at her. Neville seemed to have left out the part about her, and you weren't keen on telling her what Malfoy had said either, so you only shrugged.

“I think it's cool,” grinned Ron, who seemed the most relaxed out of all of them. “And look, she's back. Told you guys Hagrid wouldn't let her go off into the dark forest alone with Riddle.”

“Actually, I did,” you corrected him and immediately came to regret it. Hermoine's eyes widened, Harry asked “what?” sharply and Ron shot up from his seat. “Blimey, is he mental? Imagine what he could have done to you in there. Honestly, I figure you're lucky you made it out of there.” Their concern was touching, and it was so genuine you felt the need to reassure them. “It wasn't all that bad,” you attempted to calm Ron who was running his hands through his ginger hair in silent outrage. “He didn't do anything, didn't even know I was a muggleborn apparently.”

“You told him you were a muggleborn when you were alone in the dark forest with him?” Hermoine asked incredulously and you shrugged. For some reason, you were staring to feel bad, as if you'd wronged them somehow. Their reaction was sweet, but also overbearing. Harry fist-fought Riddle every other week, why couldn't you have a talk with him in the dark forest?

Hermoine soon announced she was going to bed and the two boys soon followed, bidding you goodnight. When they'd gone, you threw another piece of wood into the fire place to illuminate the room some more and got out your transfiguration books. After yesterday's disgraceful fiasco with McGonnagall, you were determined to get back in her good grades. The thought of stepping into her classroom tomorrow with nothing but her disappointment looming over you was awful, so you decided to work on some extra class work to submit and hopefully appease her. But you just could not concentrate.

No matter how hard you tried, your head was filled to the brim with memories of the hours in the forest. Riddle's voice echoed through your tired mind, his strange mood shift. The way he'd sketched that flower and worked with such concentration, but also the way he'd closed off when you mention patroni. When you started writing about flowers instead of rabbits in your essay, you finally gave up. But you knew you weren't about to get any sleep this way. Your thoughts were too loud for your brain, so you needed to drown them out.

A good ten minutes later, you hurried along a corridor and down the stairs to the dungeons. Your footsteps echoed louder the deeper you got, and the walls you sought out for balance became moister and colder. Only the faint glow of the lamps on the walls provided you with enough illumination to avoid tripping and breaking your neck. At the same time, you were glancing around in a constant anxiety that Filch or Mrs Norris would turn up at the next level. You had sneaked down to the kitchens before to bake something and relieve some stress, especially when exams rolled around, but you'd never done it after curfew. It seemed like today was a day for first times.

You tried to make as little noise as possible and not let yourself be scared off by the ghostly shadows on the walls, flickering like the flames that cast them. Finally, you had reached the second lowest level and scurried up another corridor. Being this far under the earth was never a pleasant experience, you shivered at the thought that the Slytherins had to sleep down here. Finally, you reached the painting of the laughing pineapple, your heart racing in your chest. Expertly, you tickled the fruit and it giggled and opened to reveal the kitchens.

It was strange to be here at night, but the quiet was welcome. You found some candles in a cupboard, ignited them and cast a spell on them to make them float above you as you got out all the necessary ingredients and equipment to make chocolate chip muffins. As you mixed the flour and sugar in a bowl, you finally felt some of the tension leave your body. The quiet, the working with your own hands and the solitude managed to do what homework hadn't: finally draw your thoughts away from Mattheo Riddle. Humming to yourself, you kneaded the batter and filled muffin cups with it. When you'd finished with the last touches, you put them in the oven, cleaned your working area and sat down on one of the desks.

Now that your head was pleasantly silent, you felt tired. It had been a nerve-wracking day. You watched the candles float, glanced at the oven from time to time and waited, occupied with nothing. Your fingers drew small circles on the desk as your eyelids started to drop. But you shot up at once when there was a loud bang and the entrance sprung open with such force the painting’s handles creaked dangerously- and there he stood.

Mattheo Riddle stood in the doorway, his chest rising and falling in uneven, ragged breaths, knuckles still stained with the dark red of drying blood. His brown hair was a chaotic mess, wild curls fell into his stormy eyes, which burned with some unspoken rage- or perhaps mere adrenaline. The candlelight of the room flickered across him, illuminating the sharp contrast of the crimson streaks marring his jawline and collar. His shirt was rumpled and torn at the hem, blood smudged along the fabric as though he'd wiped his hands there in a haste. He looked slightly feral, yet oddly composed, the ghost of a smirk tugging at his lips when his eyes landed on you.

“Well, well,” he drawled, his voice low and edged with amusement as he stepped into the room, boots heavy on the flagstone floor. His gaze roamed over your sitting figure, taking in your startled expression, the nightdress you'd thrown on prematurely and now regretted even owning as it made you feel utterly exposed and vulnerable under his heated stare.

“Didn't think I'd have company tonight.” He swiped a hand through his hair, smearing the blood further, the act almost calculated in its casualness. His lips quirked into a crooked grin, the kind that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “What’s wrong, princess? Can't deal with a little blood?” There was a teasing lilt to his words, but his eyes lingered on you a moment too long, as though he were trying to decide what to make of you- or what you might make of him. Your alarm rang, but neither of you averted your eyes from one another. Finally, you raised your voice, but it was but a timid mumbling. The strange sense of security of the forest had left you.

“Would you like a muffin?”

taglist: @aespaslut @kricketwritesstories @catching-fire-in-the-wind @a-little-funny @thejediprincess56 @polireader @voidangxls @artsyle @nkvgt @ashrocker123

[mosaickiwi]

MC/Angel relaxing with Fox Ren giving him all the smooches and cuddles~!!! Or daily life with Redacted with MC/Angel as a house spouse teehee~!!!

Kinda sorta combined them oopsies teehee <3 <3 da best fluffy boi

14 Days With You is an 18+ Yandere Visual Novel. MINORS DNI

~Literal Domestic Fluff~

You’d been busy since Ren left to patrol the territory early that morning. With him out of the way, cleaning up was admittedly easier. The kitchen was spotless, paw prints in the hallways scrubbed away, and the laundry almost finished. A scant few linens fresh from the dryer lay in the basket at your feet, one being carefully folded as you lounged in your favorite window seat to bask in the setting sun.

You paused to bring the warm fabric up to your face. The pleasant floral scent of the detergent was nice, but nothing compared to the fresh mountain air you’d finally gotten used to over the months. You opened the window all the way to let in a breeze.

Something immediately felt different, almost relaxing about the faintly cool air flowing past. It took a moment to realize the real source of the calm that washed over you.

A familiar presence was running through the sparse trees that lined the farthest edge of the garden. Before you could even call their name, he was making leaps and bounds on pink-toed paws to cross the short expanse of greenery between you. In a matter of seconds the ethereal fox morphed into a shape closer to human as they approached, though the tails and ears stayed in place. He came to a skittering halt outside the window.

“Angel!” Ren excitedly spoke as he reached up to you, a sparkle to his pale blue eyes. 

You dropped the blanket and leaned over the window sill to take hold of his outstretched hand, placing a quick kiss to his forehead for good measure. For once, you were the one towering over him—if only by a few centimeters. “Hi, Ren,” you said with a smile.

His excitement only seemed to intensify at your affections. Nine fluffy tails began to wag in delight while you carded your other hand through his hair. “I missed you.”

“Really? I couldn't tell,” you teased, waving away a couple stray leaves and flower petals from his pointed ears. “I missed you, too.”

Your bonded partner immediately flushed pink at your response, then something caught his attention that made his nose wrinkle. “Are you okay? Was it too cold while I was gone?” 

You weren't sure what he meant until you followed his gaze to the disheveled blanket next to you on the cushioned seat. You shook your head to calm him down. “Just doing laundry.”

He was hesitant to accept your answer, but the second kiss you pressed to his lips seemed to distract him well enough. Ren stood up straighter, determined to make it last as long as possible. Shivers ran up your spine when his fingers carefully settled along the base of your neck to keep you steady. 

Though you weren't quite finished, you were forced to pull away and breathe. “Hmm, maybe I am a little cold. We should—hey!” you suddenly laughed, gently pushing them back. He was practically crawling through the window to reach you at the mere suggestion of cuddling. “Let me finish up, okay? Just a few minutes. And use the front door.”

His ears fell flat in embarrassment as he nodded and settled down. No longer crowding the window, but still on his toes to better see what you were doing.

You took your time folding the blanket and what was left in the basket. It was hard to ignore the focused gaze of the man, nor the way he noticeably perked up once you finished folding something, only to pout at the next piece of fabric you grabbed. With a little less willpower you would've abandoned the laundry far sooner to give them all of your focus.

Eventually, you had a neat and tidy pile of sheets to put away. A quick peek from the corner of your eye in their direction was enough to alert him. He bolted from the window in an instant, just for you to hear him loudly sprinting through the villa’s many hallways seconds later. There was barely any time to stand up before you were scooped up in their arms.

He nuzzled into your neck with an almost desperate sigh as he mumbled, “I’m sorry I was away for so long, beloved.” You could faintly feel his teeth nipping at the skin above your collarbone. “Y’smell different.”

“Huh? Oh.” You made a mental note to find a scentless laundry detergent on your next outing into town. Maybe it would bother him less.

The warmth of his silky tails enveloped you, barely tickling you when they brushed back and forth over your form. As he carried you from the room, tucked safely close to their chest, you happily gave them the attention they’d been waiting for.

[aangelicano]

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐋𝐄𝐘 has never gotten comfortable with the thought of someone. he doesn't allow himself to. everyone leaves in the end, right? so what's the point in getting attached?

that's always what he thought, that's all that he knew. that's what felt best, it was comfortable, familiar. safe. it was always definite. a little flirt and then he's gone. so, he doesn't quite understand how he let himself go this far with you.

now you both lay against the metal of a broken down car, your knees just barely brushing and a flannel jacket shared between you two to keep warm. he smells of cigarette smoke, cheap gas station beer, and the pine musk that runs about along tree bark. not the most charming, but against your better judgment, you don’t seem to mind all that much.

the car is covered in vines and soot. rotting in its metal carcass, surrounded in the scraps of itself. ragwort and dandelions grow from its burnished tire. tansy rosette, both pleasant and not, and burnt rubber. last night's rain does nothing to obscure the metallic, metallurgic and stannic scent.

this has become a routine of sorts. almost every night this fading summer you both come here. sometimes you both will talk, and sometimes you don't. it's never awkward when it is silent between you two, he never feels the need to fill the empty space with mindless chatter.

perhaps that is why he is so comfortable around you. you quiet something in him, something deep inside. he doesn't have to be something he's not around you, he can be... himself. or the pieces of himself that he's trying to find.

you bring him a feeling of warmth with that sense of serenity you seem to embody. he doesn't understand it, he knows not to even try.

from the corner of his eye he glances at you beside him, gazing upon the view of oak trees dotted throughout the forest.

the sun peeking from behind the mountains covered in green. the sky is cloudy, begging for another shower of rain. a bird soars above, small enough to be mistaken for a speck of dust. and fog rests over what sprawling land can be seen.

it is isolated, outlying, the back of beyond. yet somehow, with you, it is the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. second to you, of course.

maybe someday you will leave, but the days are getting colder, and his hands free to hold. yours to keep warm, if you will.

"hey, do you think squirrels have names for each other?"

"that's a stupid question to ask."

"you know what, you're a stupid question to ask."

[pigeonpeach]

The perfect date!

Prompt: Genshin men and women’s ultimate idea of a date by their standards!

Fem reader

Characters: Diluc, Shenhe, Jean, Cloud retainer, Arlecchino, Kujo Sara, Furina

Jean

Jean ,despite her upbringing and high class education, isn’t very picky. What she values most is the effort and thought put in. To earn her heart is relatively easy. Just be a cute little thing and offer her gifts and flowers to cheer her up. Compliment her and overall just look at her with eye contact and a smile as she chats your ear off about the latest romance novel and how disappointing it was.

For you? Your best shot is to go out of your way to pick her favorite flowers, and dress yourself up enough to show you care then she wouldn’t mind where it was even if it was a picnic. In that scenario you would also have to show thought and care. You can’t just smack a blanket everywhere. You have to pick somewhere the knights are available or with a nice scenery. The tree at windrise is perfect as its already her safe spot. A picnic is actually perfect, Jean is a romantic but there’s nothing more romantic than seeing how you fret about every little detail, like a bird preparing the perfect nest for its mate, she is more flattered by effort than compliments. Even if the food you prepared isn’t the best she can see how you tried. Afterall with enough practice you could prepare it properly in the future. When she saw your effort she was starting to swoon. Keep up the effort and you’ll have her last name in no time.

As for how she’d set up the date? A casual lunch at Good Hunter and a stroll through city to Springvale because the scenery is beautiful and the wind is nice but not too cold. She’ll pay for the meal and you will make up for it by being her entertainment. But she’s also picked that route because the wind can pick uo and get a bit chilly with the lake right next to path, giving her the perfect opportunity to offer you her cloak, just like a true Gentlelady!

Diluc

Oh he’s difficult! Not a romantic, not a small talker, not too expressive, not too friendly either. You basically court him the way you would earn the trust of a feral cat who’s never been pet before. Patience and lots of perseverance. The best way to earn his heart however is to be interesting. Go to the bar when nights are slow and tell him interesting stories. Some new fact you learned? Questions that make you stand out from any other bachelorette looking to score it with him. Like “whats your second favorite color? Whats your first memory? Does his hawk have a favorite color?” I should mention to not get too personal too quick. But overtime he maybe endeared by your odd conversations, you stand out in a pleasant way that has him contemplating those questions.

Now that you’ve finally got his trust you can ask him out! Very likely he will take the reins. Likely a typical restaurant date. He picks you up, pays, coat if your cold, walks you home. He isn’t the most creative.

As for you? Well you still won’t be able to spoil him because he will pay you back no matter what. He doesn’t have expensive tastes. You prepare a nice picnic meal? You want to go on a walk through town and lunch? Unfortunately he doesn’t really like the idea because he knows it will spark a huge rumor and end up with you probably glared at by many a lady looking for his hand. The picnic idea is however novel to him. Just be sure to pick a area clear of monsters. Not that he wouldn’t immediately leap into battle to defend you but that he might burn the grass to much. Then you would have to move. But he secretly adores how persistent you’ve been, trying to provide for him, trying to handle everything. He secretly likes that. Unfortunately he has a serious poker face so you don’t notice that until later.

Shenhe

Out of all of them i’d say she’d be the hardest to romance because she’d struggle to understand when she is inlove. She likes you yes. But is it different than how she likes being around Ganyu or sitting in the grass? Overtime it does become different but it isn’t until Cloud Retainer points out that she is obviously being courted that she recognizes your efforts. So she return them.

Easiest by far because she has no concept of romance or what is romantic like everyone else but rather just that: she likes you. She likes spending time with you. She doesn’t care if you don’t get her enough flowers or you don’t pick a good enough restaurant. What she likes is you and talking to you. You could pick a dingy street vendor for a date and she’d still love it. Really its cloud retainer who would disprove. To earn her approval you must work to prove you’re worthy and trustworthy too. She won’t give her blessing out freely. And what better way for Shenhe to learn about romance than by example? But truly, Shenhe would prefer a date on Jueyun karst. With fresh flowers and a gentle breeze in the warm sunlight. Just talking to you, alone. She doesn’t like restaurants unless its a slow or quiet day but she will put up with it for your sake.

Arlecchino

Obviously she lives for the luxury. She knows time away from the children is scarce nowadays so she books a private booth secluded from the other guests, a luxury restaurant with the finest of tastes. She will ensure you don’t go away hungry or feel uncomfortable. The difficulty is the timing. The reason its best to leave her to schedule dates is because she will already have made time for such occasions. One date st least per month! Unless of course there’s complications or scheduling conflicts. Rest assured she will make it up to.

If you’re planning a date for her it would be best to follow her line and not surprise her with it because again, her schedule. The most she’ll let you do is probably make the reservation, she’ll pay for it simply because she likes to provide for you. Better to just let her because she isn’t going to let the mother of her children pay for dinner.

Cloud Retainer

Oh you want to romance a full blown adeptus? Good luck making it up that mountain alot. Your offerings do not go unnoticed by her, as she enjoys your gifts more than most mortals. She even clears out monster camps herself in preparation for your visits. As cloud retainer how ever she isn’t too emotionally available.

But as Xinyun she is far more open minded to the idea. Recognizing you as her favorite human she will humor your offer of lunch. She does prefer more traditional methods but not to a great extent. For instance, a decent restaurant with high quality food. Especially if it’s a date. You dont have to pick the most luxurious of restaurants but if you do it is a good impression to her. But putting effort into your appearance is also very important too. She doesn’t expect you to pay for her tab but she would appreciate. She will find some way to repay you.. perhaps a invention to help you in some aspect of your life? Or perhaps a kiss will do.

Furina

Little bit of a tsundere. It wasn’t actually that hard to win her heart, but she didn’t make it obvious until you asked her out. Just stick with the fancy stuff, flowers and sweets as offerings. She is very traditional in that regard. But oh Miss Furina is so lonely, the second she saw your gentle and loving smile she practically fell face first and head over heels for you.

Of course high end restaurants are her favorite. Especially for desserts. In fact you could just skip dinner and go to a bakery instead, that’s probably cheaper. If you offer to pay though do be prepared for it. She won’t spend too much since it is your money but the things she buys aren’t too cheap either. But overall the perfect date for her is mostly just.. having someone by her side. It may end up be her window shopping or shopping with you dragged along but she has a great time like. She has a great time with you by her side :> after that point the dates can be anything as long as you’re not taking her hiking through the mountains or something, she might like to go outside the city for a picnic though. Maybe even see the cute otters.

Kujo Sara

She was also not that hard to win over, but it was much harder to tell when she did. But her coworkers knew when they saw how she seemed to miss you when you left, or how you made her smile. But before you know it, she’s asking you out!

Kujo Sara will pick the best restaurant for your tastes, preferably a bit high end, and she will encourage you to eat as much as you like. Don’t eat like a pig though that is a bit off putting to her. She isn’t too great at conversing though, especiallt in non professional environments. Considering how nervous she actually is to be on a date with you too, its a bit hard to be confident in such a unfamiliar situation. Just be patient and sweet. Overtime she’ll get better and more open with you.

[uzurimisery]

chapter 5: the call. / coriolanus snow / nsfw

Rating: Explicit

WC: 6746

Warnings: MDNI, he's still insane and possessive, he's not a good guy but he's hot, vomit mention, not beta read

AO3 version | Series master

Friday evening had finally come, the pit in his stomach made Coriolanus anxious. Somehow, despite the years he’d known your mother, and the year he’d spent “dating” you, he had never met your father. The man had taken your mother’s last name when they married, something that rarely happened before, maybe only twice. A myriad of questions swam in his head, threatening to drown him. Ancient myths of sirens singing his doom. Would he be just as insane and twisted as your mother? He couldn’t be, he was far too public-facing. Would he be more like you then? A playful actor with a cold nature? You had to get that from someone and it was not your mother. The traits you shared with her were cruel.

Sometimes his mind was his worst enemy. He conjured up scenarios that ranged from disastrous, to pleasant, to ones that ended Panem as he knew it. He couldn’t shake the feeling like he was walking into the lion’s den. 

“Will you quit picking at that seam?” Tigris slapped his hand away from his suit pocket. “I spent too much time making that for you to ruin it.” It was a miracle she had agreed to come to dinner tonight. 

That last time they spoke had ended badly, the confrontation lingering. Despite their difference, Tigris did care for her cousin. 

“Relax, it won’t come undone from that.”

Grandma’am chided, “Now you two play nice. I am far too excited to talk with Mr Gaul about updating the apartment to let you both ruin it.” She was oblivious to the underlying tension and chirped excitedly about getting a look inside your family estate.

“Sorry Grandma’am,” Tigris always backed off when she got in trouble. “It won’t happen again.”

When the car pulled up to the gates, a private force of peacekeepers let them through, opening the gate after confirming their identities. He had known that your mother kept security with her, but not to this extent. The drive up to the front of the house was long, longer than it should be. The winding driveway, flanked with trees, led them to the crest of the hill and when the canopy lifted, Coriolanus could see your house.

Bathed in the warm orange of the setting sun stood the grand chateau-style mansion. Its two-story structure adorned with intricate architectural details and expansive windows lit from the inside. The mansion’s commanding presence, nestled amidst the green rolling gardens, was a symbol of just how important the Gauls were. 

Tonight was going to be a formidable challenge, his nerves building as they got out of the car and escorted through the front door by an Avox. The foyer featured a grand staircase at the back, sleek black railings with intricate breaks in the straight metal showcasing various scientific objects, custom-made to reflect the occupants of the house. The floors were white marble, polished to a mirror shine, reflecting the twin crystal chandeliers that illuminated the space. If the Snow apartment was extravagant, this was utter decadence, opulence in inches of the estate.

Underneath the foremost chandelier stood your family, your parents flanked you on either side. 

Mr Gaul was a tall man, taller than Coriolanus. His hair was neatly cropped and styled, the sides tapering into his beard, which was short and neatly trimmed. The combination framed his face, etched with lines of experience and an air of stern authority. Everyone in the Capitol knew him to be a fashionable man, and tonight was no exception. His suit was velvet and impeccably tailored, a testament to his discerning taste and attention to detail, only adding to his imposing physique. He had on a house coat as well. It was in a matching velvet and embroidered everywhere apart from the trim, with fine beads swirling and encircling each other. He had a way of making people look at him. It must be where you got it from. Your mother was speaking to the both of you as he watched on. 

Dr. Gaul was not wearing a lab coat-esque top for once and instead was in a black pantsuit. The trousers hung straight on her, a crisp pleat going down the centre, stopping just past the heels. Her blazer had a white inside that carried out onto the lapels, and under it was a simple black blouse. She had told him once that fashion was something she didn’t care about. 

You were the first to notice the Snow family approaching. It seemed like black was your family’s colour tonight. Your gown was longer, trailing behind you as you walked, turtleneck and long-sleeved. It was simple. Nothing very interesting about it other than the way it clung to your curves. You pulled your hair back and up, a few curls loose to frame your face. You were stunning.

“Welcome Snow family,” Dr. Gaul spoke first. “Thank you for joining us tonight.” She extended her hand for Grandma’am to shake. 

Grandma’am shook it and offered her own greetings. “Thank you for your invitation. I thought it a wonderful idea to get us together before the engagement party.”

“Of course. Mr. Gaul was insistent on it.” Did he have a protective streak? 

Your father finally spoke, his voice bassy and resonant. “I would like to know the man my daughter is marrying before walking her down the aisle.” He was friendly, all smiles, as he grabbed Grandma’am’s hand and kissed the back of it. “You must be Mrs. Snow. Lovely meeting you.”

He moved on to Tigris, offering similar treatment, before coming to Coriolanus. Mr Gaul stared him up and down, picking apart his appearance. Coriolanus felt like a shadow was being cast over him, the man looking down at him as if he was appraising a purchase. His gaze was unwavering, judgement and assessment being made every second Mr Gaul looked at Coriolanus. He could feel the pressure mounting, settling on top of him heavy and grinding, expectations being placed on him. 

“So this is the man that has the Capitol in such a stir, proposing to my daughter without a ring on national TV.” 

Coriolanus stood tall, composed despite Mr Gaul’s intensity. “Yes, sir.” 

The older man cracked a smile, bright and blinding, as he reached out to grab Coriolanus’ hand. Mr. Gaul’s hands were soft, but Coriolanus could still feel the remnants of calluses. “I like your gumption, son.” Relief washed over Coriolanus. 

“I couldn’t risk the chance of ever losing her,” Coriolanus smiled, hoping it was charming. 

“Are you two done, then?” Your question was jovial, playful and light, as you came to the pair. Mr. Gaul pulled you in for a hug and kissed the top of your head. He watched Coriolanus as he did, the smile he previously had gone and his eye holding a warning. Perhaps Mr. Gaul was the judge and jury, and Dr. Gaul was the executioner when matters came to you. 

“We’re done.” Mr. Gaul’s previous expression was back on his face as you pulled away from the hug. “The chef is just finishing up the first course. While he does, I wanted to give you all a tour of Gaul Manor.”

“A tour would be wonderful. Thank you, Mr. Gaul.” Tigris was the first to accept the offer, wanting to get away from whatever had just happened between your father and her cousin. She was followed by Grandma’am voicing excited agreement. 

“I’d like to show Coriolanus the gardens before the sunsets entirely. Would that be alright Father?” 

Mr. Gaul didn’t seem like he wanted that to happen at all, lips tightening into a fine line, but the man was weak to you. He always had been. “Of course, baby girl.” Surrender.

You walked Coriolanus to the gardens, pointing out the different rooms as you went. The click of your heels echoed down the corridors. He could see the back patio lead out to the rear gardens down a set of stairs. The train of your dress was going to get dirty if you walked around like that. He grabbed it, lifting it off the ground for you. Why did he do that? He didn’t care if the dress ruined, clothes were just clothes. Did he care if it had been ruined and it upset you? His emotions had been haywire since he woke up. 

The twilight embrace of the gardens was nice, the air filled with the scent of blooming flowers and the gentle hum of insects. Suddenly you laughed, holding your stomach and grabbing Coriolanus’ arm as you walked through the garden. 

“You looked terrified.” 

Indignation ate at him. “I did not.” 

“You did. I swear I could see you trembling, shaking in your shoes as he stared at you.” You straightened up, facing him. “He’s always wanted to do that to someone. He thinks it’s one dad thing he’s never had the chance to do.” 

“Wonderful” Coriolanus was sardonic in his reply. 

“Oh, lighten up. Let him have his fun. If this alliance is serious, this will be the only time he’ll see me get married.” 

Did you not believe Coriolanus was serious about this? He had told you, in not so many words, that he wanted this. He didn’t make friends, let alone allies, but you were both things. Was your worry about him falling in love with someone and screwing you over serious? How could you doubt him? He had given you no reason to. 

“It is serious. Did you think I’d say that in jest?” 

You shrugged. “Perhaps. You’ve been all over the place for the past couple of months. One minute we’re friends and the next you’re telling me off for standing too close to Dennis Fling, of all people.”

“I’ve had a lot on my mind.” Coriolanus knew that the answer was lacklustre. It didn’t account for his actions, nor explain them. The past few months there had been a lot on his mind, grappling with his growing feelings for you and going between acting on them or closing them off completely. He’d get close to the latter, and then he’d see you again and his resolve lost. The want he had for you vexed him, and he’s felt sick to his stomach since realising he loved you. 

“You can talk to me about it.” Your shoulder bumped into his as you spoke. “We are friends, and allies now, too.”

“Another time perhaps.” 

“Sure.”

The rest of the stroll through the greenery was quiet. Coriolanus lost himself in his own head again. Should he give up his previous plan and tell you how he feels now? It was there, threatening to jump out of his mouth. But doing that was risky. You could still walk away from him. He should just wait until you had been married or a few before telling you that being married made him fall in love with you, not that his desire to possess you led to him genuinely coming to care for you in the past year. Sick and twisted bastard he was.

He was in too deep, the surface feet above him and he could not reach it. 

“We should go back inside with the others. I imagine dinner’s ready by now.” 

“Sounds good.” 

Coriolanus held onto the train of your dress until you were back inside, letting it fall and fan around you. He hadn’t realised the chill that had seeped into his bones from being out there. It wasn’t cold today. Maybe he was just sensitive. He made sure to escort you properly, fearful your father would pop out of a corner, glaring at him for not treating you properly. Dr. Gaul had cameras everywhere, so who’s saying there weren’t any in the house?

When the two of you reached the dining room, the rest of the party was seated. This was the smaller of the dining rooms, the other being reserved for large parties. Mr Gaul had designed the one to offer a more intimate space, better for conversing as a whole. It was just as ornate as the rest of the house, the ceiling an ornamental relief. Each of the Gauls sat at opposite ends of the table, Tigris and Grandma’am on the left and right of Dr. Gaul respectfully, leaving the only seat free near your father. 

Coriolanus pulled your chair on for you before sitting on his own on your father’s right. Two waiters came out, putting down plates in front of everyone and filling their wine glasses with crisp white. The first course was some sort of salad, colourful on his plate, a champagne vinaigrette tossed over it. 

“What did you think of the gardens, Mr. Snow?” Dr. Gaul asked him as she took a sip, an eyebrow raised. 

“They were wonderful.” His words were polite, nothing too overplayed.

“Indeed.” Was he supposed to say more? 

Before he could, Mr. Gaul injected. “I spent a long time designing them and then pruning them. When the plants finally matured, I hired a gardener for it, hoping that they’d be taken care of. But much to my chagrin, they weren’t. So I fired that gardener.” 

Your mother hummed. “Finding a new one was a simple task, wasn’t it, husband?”

“Very. You’d be surprised at the number of competent men who lined up for the job.” 

“You had a replacement picked out that same day if I recall correctly, no?” 

“Indeed, I did.” Mr Gaul wiped at his mouth with the napkin on his lap. “Luckily, that new gardener was good at his job.” The threat was hardly hidden in the story. Coriolanus was replaceable to the Gauls. If he acted out of line with you, they would cut him down. He felt your foot rub his ankle, a show of comfort. 

“You’ve always been too attached to those gardens father,” You were aware of what your parents were telling this story for. “Someone might think that it was your child and not me.” 

Mr. Gaul backed off. “Well, they would only be partially blind to confuse the two of you. You’re as pretty as a rose.” 

“Grandma’am are you still keeping up your rose garden on the roof?” Coriolanus could kiss you right now, as you steered the conversation away from him. 

The chatter was light as everyone ate, courses coming and going. Mr Gaul was a jokester, cracking them to make yourself, Tigris, Grandma’am and even Dr. Gaul laughed, but it never reached her eyes. They were always on him, studying what he said and did. How he looked at you. 

It was odd, striking in a sense, so different from the initial stiffness of your interactions and formality that had previously been established. It was homey, a warm blanket on a cold day. You had grown up like this, a sprout the Gauls had watered and tended to until you bloomed one day just as you were now. 

Would you want a house like this? To have family dinners and tell stories of the days you had? Coriolanus didn’t think he could offer that. He didn’t know how to be a good partner, only play at one. His parents’ marriage was one based on fear and obsession, just like his own feelings for you. To him, that’s what love, partnership, was. A foundation of need. Even now he still wanted to hide you away, to run from the situation. Your parents’ overarching care for you is tenuous to navigate. It’d be a tough role, he’d stumble over his lines, his delivery shaky, but he could try if it made you happy. If it made you stay. If it made you love him.

___________________________

“We’ve received an increase in our budget.” Dr. Gaul stood at the front window of her office. It was two stories above the main lab and looked out over it all. 

From here she saw all. Right now she was watching you, her only child, as you led a training session. Your lab coat was an altered one. She had permitted you to wear black over the usual white. It was an older style, pre-war, from a country that was no doubt dead. You had read about them in an old book, Cheongsam, and you told her that when you grew up, you wanted a lab coat just like her but one that looked like that. Her favouritism for you was a quiet thing, often unnoticed, but she gave you that. 

She had summoned Coriolanus to her office with little warning. He had been mid-experiment when his communicuff buzzed with two words. “Office. Now.” 

He was unsure what she needed to tell him that urgently. When the family dinner ended well, he assumed he was off the hook. Mr. Gaul agreed to push the engagement party to the end of the month, instead of when it was supposed to be today, citing that he wanted to make the event more grand. Coriolanus was grateful for that. 

“That’s great news. It allows us to move forward with expanding the arena”

“Yes, it does.” Dr. Gaul’s tone was flat, devoid of her usual sing-song, her hands clasped behind her back as she stared down below. It was always so quiet in her office. There was no ambient noise to soothe the mind, only silence unless you spoke, and she was quiet. 

“Do you need me for anything else Dr. Gaul?” 

“Tell me, what do you think of her?” His blood turned to ice. 

“Of who?”

“Don’t play stupid,” she sighed, low and heavy. “Of my daughter, my Y/N.” 

His panic built, rising in his throat, the taste of bile settling on the back of his tongue. His heart pounded, a relentless drumbeat surging against his ribs. It was so loud he swore she could hear it. Sweat built at his forehead, his palms clammy. This was a test. She had seen something at the dinner that set her off, a bloodhound on a trail.

“I…” his voice caught in his throat, words refusing to form. “I think she’s extraordinary.” 

The words felt inadequate, but too much at the same time. Did she want to hear about how skilled you were? Should he lament on your strongest attributes and how he admired them? Or should he confess to his greatest sin, his need to have you?

“Yes, she is.” The short answer she gave only tormented Coriolanus, unable to determine what course to take. “Did you know she almost killed me?”

He stammered. “I’m sorry?” 

“When she was born, she almost killed me. I carried her for 40 weeks, gave up opportunities for her, and then when she came into this world, kicking and screaming, I nearly bled out,” she spoke without turning to face him. 

“I-”

“I didn’t like her at the start. She was small and fragile and cried so much. I could never get her to latch properly, making her colic. There were times when I wanted to end my suffering and kill her, but each time her father would be there and she’d calm down again. She’d smile. And then one day, three weeks after she was born, she latched on with no issues.” He was afraid to speak again. 

“I started watching her after that, treating her like an experiment. To me, she was one. Was I capable of motherhood? Of loving a child? It’s a hypothesis that is still being tested to this day. Bur preliminary results show one thing.” her body turned and finally facing him. “I care for her. I have killed for that girl and I will do it again, regardless of the consequences.”

Dr. Gaul began walking towards him, her steps silent.

I raised her with everything that I had. I gave her every opportunity and helped guide her into the ambitious woman she is today. From the moment she suckled on my teat, I laid the world at her feet, feeding her independence.” 

They were face to face now. Even though she was markedly shorter than him, she still looked down at him. 

“Are you a threat to her independence, Mr. Snow?”

Coriolanus stood his ground, gaze unwavering under Dr. Gaul’s scrutiny. Her tone laced with pride for you and an accusation for him. She questioned if he was a threat to you. Was she threatening to kill him? Replace him like they had the gardener.

“I would never do anything to jeopardise her independence, Dr. Gaul.” his voice was quiet, barely above a whisper. Even now, after years of working together, she unnerved him. “I would never dream of doing anything to harm her.”

Your independence with him was still under question. If he could let you do as you please, just like you had been this whole time, was something he didn’t know the answer to. So far, your independence has been good for him. But would it always? People change over time and who was to say you wouldn’t change, no longer view him positively. If that happened, your independence would most likely be lost. He wouldn’t let you get away from him. Would he hurt you then? Nothing life-threatening.

“Her father likes you.” Her eyes narrowed, slits like a viper ready to strike. She tore apart his words as she looked over him, searching for any hint of deceit, but she found none. “Do you know how an actor dies?”

“No.”

“They start to believe the part they play is real, that the story is real, that their feelings are real. Do you believe that it’s real?” He wanted to vomit, expel the contents of his stomach and her feet. To gag and gag as they poured out. She was onto him. She knew everything. 

“No, it’s not real.” 

She had seen the lie there, that he thought it was real, and that his feelings for you were real, and she called him on it. “Don’t lie to me, Mr. Snow.”

“It’s real.” He was exposed. “It’s real to me.”

She turned again, walking back to the overlook. What ever anger she had for him now covered. He couldn’t tell what she wanted. Was this the right answer? Had he passed her test? 

Her voice was flat when she spoke. “If you ever hurt her, I will destroy you. I will cut you from pelvis to neck, pull your innards out and suspend them. I will lock you in that state, pump you full of the bare minimum nutrients you need to live and force you to watch your loved ones die, and for her to live on happily. Do you understand?” 

“I understand.” 

“Good. Now get out of my sight.” 

Coriolanus was out of the room before she could finish her sentence as Dr. Gaul’s words rang in his ears. She would always be watching him, making sure that you were safe. You would always be hers before you were his. She knew the truth now too, that his perverse need for you, debauched thoughts, had him in love with you. His tie felt like it was choking him, fingers pulling at the knot to free it. His pace rushed as he retreated into his private lab. This was bad. It was more than bad; it was deadly.

How did he play this out? Would Dr. Gaul demand you stop seeing him, ruin all his plans? She wasn’t someone who spoke in empty threats and Hypotheticals; she spoke only of factual reality. Even if it meant destroying her protégé, she would do it for you. This was a bed of his own making, tangled in the sheets called emotion and desire, that he had to lie in. 

On the walk to his lab, he could feel Dr. Gaul watching from above. Or perhaps he was paranoid, imagining the feeling of a thousand eyes on him. Coriolanus’ mouth was dry, his hands trembling slightly. Weakness prevalent. Panic prevalent.

When the door closed, he nearly collapsed, stumbling across the room, knocking over a cup of pens as he reached his chair. The rows of instruments, intricate machinery with vials filled with different solutions, sat mocking him. They were tainted. Signifiers of his ambition now show just how much he still lacked. 

If your mother knew, did you? Had you known his feelings this entire time and strung him along? If you had known of those, how much did you really know? Coriolanus had never considered what you might know about him and what he’s done. What if Dr. Gaul had told you of his sins, how he turned on Sejanus and reaped the benefits? The possibility of you knowing the truth, his biggest flaws, wasn’t something he could let happen. You’d turn on him in judgment, your affection lost. 

A knock on the door pulled him from his thoughts, the mask slipping on again. 

“Come in.” He needed to drink something. Speaking felt like sandpaper on his vocal cords. 

The door opened as you slipped in, closing it behind you. “You alright? You looked like you were upset.” 

You were the last person he wanted to see right now, unsure if he could hide what was going on. 

“Yes, I’m fine. Just need to rerun a test.” 

“Oh. That’s unlike you,” you spoke as you plopped down on his couch, clueless about his struggle. “Normally you’re so on top of things.” 

You didn’t believe him. You were questioning him. Have you already spoken with your mother? Did she tell you everything? The temptation to confess, clear the air before it could change, pulled at him. 

“What do you know?” His accusation was sharp. 

Your presence, perceptive gaze that was always watching, unnerved him. “In general or?”

“What do you know about me? About my past?” Coriolanus knew he had to tread carefully, caution in every breath. He had to stay guarded and protect his ambition, but he desperately craved your understanding. The acceptance that what he had done was fine. 

You were silent, unsure what to say, dropping your flashlight in the dark, reaching out to find it. “Well,” He could tell with just that you knew it all. “All of it, I suppose, other than what you were feeling.” 

His voice wavered, a mixture of apprehension and curiosity. “How?” 

“I was there when my mother got the jabberjay. She almost ignored it, but I pushed her on it.” You had always known what he had done the whole time. “I told her that the extremes she had always wanted me to go to and I was incapable of, you could do them. That you’d be what she wanted.”

You had been the catalyst, the one that saved him from having to live out 20 years of service in District 2. At any point, you could have told the Plinths what he had done, but you didn’t. You had met them many times and never said anything. In fact, you offered condolences for their loss when you had first met them. Said that Sejanus had always been a positive light at the Academy. 

“What about the games?” 

“Just that you cheated, gave her rat poison and made the snakes desensitised to Lucy Gray’s smell.”

You sat there, casual and relaxed in his lab, acceptance clear. There was no question of morality from you, how he could do that to Senjaus, how he could cheat at the games. You understood that the ends justify the means. This was just another ordinary Tuesday for you. 

“I did have one question for you about her actually,” Coriolanus tensed. “Did you love her?” 

“No.” Coriolanus hadn’t loved Lucy Gray. He loved controlling her. He thought that being with her would be enough, but it wasn’t. She would always be District, low class and Covey, and he would always be a Snow. It was youthful naivety to think that being with her would ever amount to anything. 

“Is she dead?” 

“Yes, I killed her.” 

“What changed? You looked close during the games.” 

“She was a distraction, a liability, a threat to my success.” That’s all Lucy Gray had ever been to him. “So I killed her.” 

“You were right to kill her, then. Sounds like she was a loose end and the last thing we need is loose ends.” You were so unbothered by his confession, like you had expected it ages ago. “We should be more truthful with each other if this alliance is going to last.”

“Then it’s your turn to share. You know my biggest secret.” 

He felt calm now. The weight of your acceptance comforting him. Morality was inconsequential in the pursuit of greatness, and you knew that and you agreed with it. He had been vulnerable. You could have struck and crushed his heart by running, but you sat there taking it in. 

“No more secrets?” you questioned, offering to establish equal ammunition on his side. A pact of mutually agreed destruction. 

“No more secrets.”

“Do you remember Emon Quiver? You might have seen him on the Academy campus before. He was in my year.” You went on describing the boy, familiarity reminding him exactly who you were talking about. 

“He’s the one who got sent to District 11, no?” 

“That’s him. I lied about him ever touching me. Poor boys never touched a woman because of me.” Coriolanus watched you pick at the lint on your trousers. “The true story is that I was cheating off of him in history with Professor Demigloss. It was fine for a while. He let me do it with no problems until one day he wanted more from me, tried to say I owed him and if I didn’t sleep with him, he’d tell everyone that I was cheating.”

“What did you do?”

“What needed to be done. Told him to meet me in the library, made out with him a litter, put us in a position where he looked like he was in control and forced me. I waited for a few minutes, letting it happen. He didn’t know it, but they were doing an inspection of the Library that day, and all the staff was there. So they walk in and see Y/N Gaul underneath him. I started crying, begging him to stop, and said that I didn’t want this. Next thing you know, he’s off in 11 with no flesh on his fingers, if he even has fingers anymore.” You yawned as you finished the story. 

Your moral compass was just as fucked as his own. The willingness to crush others beneath your heeled feet, like the bugs that they were, was so similar to his own. “What if they believed him?” 

You laughed. “Why would they?” The point was fair, you were very convincing. “Anyway, that’s my big secret. I was thinking we should go out for lunch today. I’m tired of being in the lab.”

“I think that’d be fine. You can pick where we go.” 

As you started going through the option that you and he could go to, Coriolanus was stuck in limbo. He had expected this conversation to go so much worse than it did. You hadn’t cared that he turned on Sejanus and Lucy Gray. In fact, you commended him for it. Told your mother that his willingness to destroy others, kill their physical form and the memory of them, was a good thing, something she needed. It sent a jolt through him, heady with lust, making him giddy. You were validating his true nature, content with the darkness, at home in it. 

He felt a connection with you he had never felt before. You weren’t the sheltered playing card he had thought you to be, but a formidable force all in your own right. You understood the true nature of power and control, and the extremes one had to take to obtain it. You were cruel and vindictive, condemning a man to District 11 for threatening you.

It excited him. The prospect of navigating the Capitol’s political arena side by side, both of you playing the game well. There might be times when your interests clashed, but you were smart and willing to adapt. 

All he could think about was biting into your cherry-red lips like the fruit they were. Their tempting fullness waiting for him. He used to be afraid you’d run if you knew his truth. Now that you knew it, he just wanted you more.

But could he bear telling you that?

Don't worry! The series isn't dead. Holidays have just had me busy

(edit: forgot to do the tag list originally, silly me)

@serrendiipty @namelesslosers @glitteryblizzardsalad @harrysbitvh123 @secretsicanthideanymore @ayyyeeeeidk @hinata7346 @kisstheskin @sumo-b98 @duds31

[cosmos-coma]

Pine Trees

A/N: Having a little trouble getting into the regular writing spirit, so I thought I'd get into the holiday spirit instead! Here's a little drabble about Bucky being silly and just overly enthusiastic about the holidays haha.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Words: 903

Bucky Masterlist | AO3

Like what I do? Consider buying me a Coffee!

_________

Thick syrup bubbled and steamed away on the stove, wafting a fragrant orange scent that enveloped both you and the surrounding kitchen. Festive twinkling lights fluttered along the far too-old strands encircling the staircase’s railing. White paws batted at the shimmering orbs on the table who lay in wait for their seasonal home to arrive so they may once again be seen in their full glory. Chaotic paws, led by curious eyes, were quickly followed up by a surprised “Mrrp?” as the ornaments began to fall to the floor, bouncing into areas they likely won't be seen again (namely under the couch). 

“Alpine..!” You called from the kitchen, stirring the boiling pot, “I can hear you messing with those ornaments. Don’t go breaking them before your dad gets back or I'm keeping your new laser pointer…!” you threatened her with a disapproving shake of your head. 

“Speaking of which, where is he…?” you asked aloud, looking toward the clock. Bucky left a few hours ago to go cut down a tree with Sam and Steve, but this was becoming a rather long errand. You've cut up trees before and you don't remember it taking this long- and you weren't even a team of two-and-a-half super soldiers. 

“Maybe he’s just looking for the perfect tree?” You continued to muse as Alpine replied with half-listening meows. 

As yet another turn of the hour passed and you finally pulled the last of the candied orange peels from the simmering pot you heard a group of voices outside the door. 

“Buck I’m not so sure about this…” 

“Nonsense, Sam, It’s gonna be perfect.” You could practically hear Bucky’s grin, “Steve, come and give me a hand, yeah?” 

Sounds of shuffling feet and objects came from just beyond the door, causing your curiosity to only grow and grow. 

Sam was the first to walk through the door, his tired expression a testament to what was to come, but you didn’t know it yet. 

“Hey Sam, everything okay?” You asked, scooping up Alpine before her curiosity regarding the open door got the better of her. 

But Sam just looked at you and opened his mouth to speak, then paused before he continued, “Just… good luck. I don’t think I’ve seen holiday spirit like this before….”

You were about to ask for more when the back end of a tree came jutting through the door, Steve’s large blond figure being overshadowed by the mass of pine needles as he helped to bring it in.

“Oh, Hey! Happy holidays- whoa!” Steve’s pleasant expression turned to surprise as he continued to be pushed along with the tree. About 5 feet of tree were inside the house now and you were sure that would be it, but it just kept going.

6 feet….

8 feet….

10 feet…? 

“Uh, James????” You called as you watched it just keep coming, your gaze briefly glazing at the height of your ceiling. This was…gonna be close…. “Are you there? Did you become part of the tree? Oh my god, this is so much tree…” 

Finally, at 12 feet your joy-filled boyfriend came through the door, carrying the end of this massive tree. His smile was blindingly bright as he waved to you with his free hand. “Doll, look at this!!! We found the perfect tree just sitting out there in the woods- I mean, look at it..!” 

“Oh, I’m looking….” You replied as you watched Steve set the end down in the tree stand and Bucky began to tilt it upward. Taller and taller it grew, its limbs spreading out towards all the surrounding walls as it finally stood straight up. 

Well… mostly straight. 

The top foot of the once proud pine tree curled over itself as it met your already tall ceilings, bowling its submission to your cause and seemingly waiting for its final touches. 

“It’s… big…!” you observed, stifling your little laugh as you looked over its hulking presence with hands on your hips. 

“It is! That’s part of what makes it perfect, Don’t you think?” He said, his grin and his holiday spirit refusing to waver as he came over to your side. 

Looking up at him you couldn’t help but match his luminous smile; dappled lights glowed in his eyes, a symbol of his undying enthusiasm. It was something you greatly admired in times like this, times where, no matter what you do, it just doesn’t feel like the joy of the holidays. But for Bucky, after so many decades of holidays missed, of gifts never given, and memories never made, he was determined to make the most out of every single year he had left. 

A smile slowly crept across your lips as you tried to see it through his eyes, your cheek resting against his shoulder as his arm slipped comfortably around you. 

“I do…” you nodded. It was going to look ridiculous, this kingly young pine arched over inside what surely must have felt like a doll house to it. But it was so… happily silly that you couldn’t resist it. Didn’t you always want something like this as a child? Something so wonderfully grand and over the top that you had no choice but to shake your head and smile. 

“It’s perfect.” you continued, your grin just as bright as you handed him an ornament, “Now come over here, I wanna get on your shoulders and do the star.”

__________

General Bucky Taglist:

@writingmysanity @simpxinnie @goldylions @yeehawbrothers

My apologies if i missed anyone! If you wanted to be added to the general Taglist please ask and let me know!

[mamiya-a]

Playing dangerous - Mother Miranda/reader

Warning for explicit content.

Chapter 2: The "interview"

You happen to have a strange dream that night. It's cold , the ground is wet while chilly darkness surrounds you - the pitch black colour of the night is meant to be scary, yet despite your poor vision you feel comfortable. The mist around you is so thick you can almost chew on it , it shields you from the monsters in the forest.

Your ears twitch when you hear rustling of leaves somewhere close , too close. Long , firm and steady - your legs are able to move faster than usual. Your body feels light as a feather and you run through the trees with ease.

Vision is easily manipulated. You only understand this when you no longer feel soil but cement under your feet. You wonder why your eyes betray you like that,...these eyes... do they even belong to you?

You are out of breath, your heart is racing, but you no longer hear the rustling in the forest. Even if you didn't know what was hidden there, your escape seemed to be necessary.

You don't manage to even turn your head before something hits you. The impact is so strong that your brain begins to pulsate , and you're barely breathing anymore for a totally different reason. A blanket of blood covers you and you barely keep your eyes open when…

The face staring at you is inhumane, grotesque and terrifying. Yet something about those dark, blue eyes seems awfully familiar...

*****

You wake up with a gasp. Eyes wide open , body sweating and mouth hanging open. You swallow, feeling your throat complete dry. Your limps are like boneless when you try to lift yourself up the bed , almost falling down on the floor in the process. You grab your head in sweaty palms and groan.

A nightmare, you haven't had one in years. The images in your head are already starting to fade as you slowly observe your surrounding. Where were you again?

The walls are painted in a pleasant white color, which makes the room to look cozier. It is small, but you can easily live in it. However, the fact that there is not much furniture indicates that it has most likely not been used for some time. And yet it is perfectly clean.

Maybe what you like the most is the individual bathroom. You also find it pleasant how the large window is near the bed yet the light from it does not fall on your face but instead tickles your feet. It's much better to wake up like this.

Feeling a little bit more relaxed you roll your shoulders back along with your head until you feel your back crack, releasing all tension from your body. Then you roll in the bed , stretching your arms and legs.

Now fully awake you find yourself staring mindlessly at the door, as if you expected someone to walk in any moment. When that doesn't happen you decide it's best to go to your car and get your suitcase. Even though the fabric of the nightgown is wonderful you want to wear your normal clothes.

You quickly check your phone. The disappointment is not very severe when you're met with a screen - devoid of any new notifications. Your gaze shifts to see the time - it's still early, you might be able to go get your suitcase before anyone can see you in your pajamas.

A few quick steps are enough for you to cross the room and get a hold of the door handle. Before you can press it though you hear a voice and then you move back as the wooden door opens from the outside.

"...good morning" - the little girl in front of you looks pretty young and despite her soft, sweet voice you can sense coldness in her tone. Her pursed lips expose her slight annoyance.

"Morning...who might you be?" - you force a smile , it's clear to you that the girl is Miranda's other daughter but as you remember the talk with Eveline from last night you try to look as clueless and friendly as you can.

"Eva" - a simple name , beautiful and symbolic. You glare at the kid in front of you - her face looks stone cold, her eyebrows are slightly furrowed as her blue eyes shine in precautionary manner, she looks mean...- "can you move?Now?"

Even her way of speaking reminds you of her mother...rude but not completely, there's a fake amiability covering her words. The girl is a complete copy of Miranda. Almost down to every detail - even her long , golden hair that is nicely tied up in a ponytail.

You surrender , lifting your hands in the air as you take a few steps back, to allow Eva to walk into the room. It's only then when you notice she's carrying your suitcase.

"Hey, that's a bit heavy for you don't you think?" - you extend your arm to grab it from her but she quickly moves to the side , not allowing you to even get close to the handle.

Did she carry the suitcase all the way up here by herself?

You don't have time to make another comment. The girl drops the heavy suitcase in the middle of the room and turns to you - surprisingly with a big smile on her face.

"I did it! You saw that right? I did it!" - Eva jumps around the room , happy and full of energy. Maybe you were too quick to judge her. She is a child after all.

You praise and thank her for bringing your suitcase and she giggles.

"Mommy just lost a bet" - the girl's smirk grows even more and you laugh along, pressing your back to the wall.

"What will you make her do?"

"Not sure yet" - her eyes travel between you and the door - "I'll probably ask her for sweets... speaking of it she expects you for breakfast"

"Breakfast... better to get ready then" - you murmur as you push yourself off the wall.

Eva is quick to run off , down the corridor. Before you can shut the door closed you hear her soft voice echoing from afar - telling you to hurry, as Miranda is not a patient woman.

You try to be fast , you don't want to disappoint your boss...more like future boss if you even get the job today, even more. Your fingers unzip the suitcase and you begin to pull out needed clothes. You don't go fancy with your outfit, though you think about it, but you reject the idea Miranda would go easy on you just because you dressed nicely.

However while brushing your hair you notice your car keys on the nightstand and your eyes widen. You're sure you locked your car last night. And the keys haven't been moved.

Then... how did they manage to take your suitcases from the trunk to your room?

*****

You take your time to find the right way to the kitchen. You vaguely remember the different rooms from last night. Even though you note the mansion is not that big as it seemed, you still need to figure out your way around.

You pass a familiar room - the table with the two armchairs are the same as last night. The only thing missing is the pile of ashes on the floor. And from there you make a turn to finally reveal the kitchen.

The light from the window illuminates the table, highlighting the unusually fruit-laden surface. The colors of the kitchen are a bit brighter than the rest of the house. It's welcoming. The decor of the mansion is really eye-catching.

The contrasts of light and dark colors are well chosen. It is strange how some parts of the estate feel warm while in others you can almost freeze to death. And the portraits, the details, the elements in the architecture are attractively perfect. The mansion surely matches it's owner.

Speaking of which... Miranda sits gracefully at the corner, with her legs crossed and elbows resting on the table. In her hands she holds a notebook whose inscription is in another language and you do not understand it. Her eyes are too busy staring at the rows to notice you.

She only acknowledges your appearance after you clear your throat. She lifts her head and smiles , one of her fingers points to a chair next to her - inviting you to sit.

"Slept well?"

"More than well , that bed is awfully comfortable" - you don't lie when you answer her , the mattress is very different from what you have at home - much more nicer and softer. To think that they don't even use this room... you never understood this , why buy a big house if you're not gonna use all the rooms. Miranda doesn't look like a person to often invite guests either. It's truly a waste.

As you take a sit on the chair next to her you notice how her vision unfocuses and her attention shifts completely off you. You turn your head to the direction of her gaze.

Eveline and Eva slowly approach the kitchen table, loudly discussing something. They both stop to greet their mother and as emerald colour eyes meet yours , you try to pretend you're seeing them for the first time. The test is easy.

"Eva informed me that you have already met her" - Miranda speaks proudly, with her hands on top of her daughter's shoulders. The little girl forces a smile , then she moves to escape her mother's grip - "but I'd like to present you to my other daughter"

Miranda watches closely , curiosity dancing in her eyes, as Eveline presents herself to you, for a second time.

"Wait" - you snap at the blonde woman, acting confused - "i thought you said I'll take care of one child?"

"Did i?" - her voice sounds so confident, so convincing...for a moment you forget yourself and the situation you're in - "I must have forgotten to mention about Eveline"

She's unbothered, her hand moves to the table, grabbing a cup of coffee, judging by the aroma of it , and she guides it to her lip , muttering an excuse as she takes a sip.

You don't have time to consider asking her another thing. A plate full of pancakes is shoved in front of you by the black haired girl. Silence falls around the table as you all begin to eat the breakfast - everyone except Miranda who only writes in her notebook and lifts her head from time to time to give sweet smiles to her children and sip from her coffee.

Her movements are quiet and you're too busy to wander in thought to anticipate her hands grabbing your shoulders sharply. She laughs at your reaction when you jump in your place. Miranda then whispers something in your ear and walks away , leaving you to battle alone with the piercing eyes of the two girls in front of you.

"Do you... know where to find your mother's office?" - you ask nervously, she could have just invited you there normally, why did she have to whisper it in your ear like that?

"Her office!?" - Eva exclaims , dropping her fork in the process - "How? Why!"

"She called me there!" - you defence yourself, not quite understanding what the fuss is about.

"Mother most likely invited her to the interview" - Eveline intervenes - "calm yourself"

Eva scoffs and purses her lips. Her arms are crossed in an annoyed manner as she speaks again.

"It's not fair! She doesn't even let us there"

The black haired girl's gaze falls upon you, her eyes are observing, curious,... vicious. If Eva got Miranda's looks then you are sure Eveline inherited her character and attitude.

"She must be special" - her eyes finally leave yours with these words. You can feel chills running down your spine and you rush to finish your breakfast so you can get rid of these kids as quickly as possible and go where Miranda has called you - to her office.

*****

After all none of the girls really told you where to find that so sacred room - making you wander through the mansion like an idiot. You decide to just knock on every closed door and hope for an answer. You suppose an office should be on the first floor and it doesn't actually take you that much time to find it.

A wooden door with a metal handle. Simple. You lift your hand and curl up your fingers. Miranda's sharp voice invites you in after a few knocks and you straighten your back before opening the door.

The smell of smoke hits your nose before you can notice the lit cigarette between her thin fingers. You resist the urge to cough, instead you close the door behind you and walk deeper into the room. A cunning smile appears on your lips.

"i thought you said you only smoke after long days?" - when she doesn't return your smile something snaps inside your brain, that is her second time lying to you, and it's not even been a full day.

"Sometimes even a morning can be long" - she puts out her cigarette by firmly pressing it on the surface of her desk, a closer look reveals the many small burn marks there , ruining a part of the furniture.

"You could have just told me you were a smoker"

"Does it matter?" - Miranda relaxes and leans against the back of her chair. Her legs cross again and the atmosphere around her changes.

"No..i was just-"

"Then , drop it" - she almost hiss the command, you gulp and obey immediately after she points at the chair in front of her desk. - "didn't your mother teach you not to stick your nose in other people's business?"

You bite your tongue just to stop yourself from snapping back at her. You clench your hands into fists so hard you can feel your nails digging into your skin. Miranda is amused by your reaction and finds it hard to hide her smile.

"Is something bothering you?" - that woman is way too rude. You relax your hands before answering her.

"I would appreciate it...if you don't talk about my mother" - she hums in approval but the look on her face is unsatisfied.

"Why?"

"She...I never got to know her" - you narrow your eyes as that familiar guilty feeling crawls back into your chest. You've always blamed yourself, how many nights you spent in wondering what her life would be if you weren't born? - "she died during childbirth, her first...and last."

Miranda's face is motionless , however her chest feels tight as well. She knows pain , she knows death...way too well. The blonde woman clears her throat to caught your attention and rests her elbows on the desk.

"A motherless child is a tragedy" - she declares , fingers fidgeting with the corner of a paper list in front of her- "almost as big as a childless mother, though yours got lucky...to die before her daughter"

Her comment snaps you back to reality and you really force yourself to stay calm , instead of running away from her , this room and house.

"Can we change the topic , please" - polite, just be polite and calm.

"Of course" - Miranda's hand moves along the desk until her fingers tap on the pack of cigarettes resting there , she opens it and groans - it's empty. - "i suppose...you have questions about Eveline. Now, she might not look like me but i assure you she's mine."

You wonder what she means by that. Despite the difference in their appearances you didn't once think Eveline is not her daughter. They are too much alike for you to even question that.

"I just assumed she looks more like your husband, maybe-"

"Husband?" - Miranda scoffs , there is a hint of mockery in her voice, she looks rather annoyed - "I'm afraid i have no interest in men"

Oh. Oh , great. You quickly understand you're dealing with one very mean lesbian. You don't judge her , not at all , but you're curious.

Your eyes follow the path of her fingers, her knuckles and veins. They stop at the shiny, silver ring wrapped around the fourth finger of her left hand. There's no doubt that's a wedding ring.

"Your wife , then?"

Miranda follows your gaze and the corners of her lips curl upwards, soon she smiles more widely than usual.

"I'm not married if that's what you're asking" - her hand jerks and the ring hits the surface of the desk with a tud , she doesn't even acknowledge it as it rolls down to the floor - "i just happen to adore jewelry."

Your careful observation of her hands proves that she doesn't wear any more rings , however you notice a dark necklace with rose elements wrapped around her neck , as well as the fancy earrings she wears - her ears are definitely pierced more than once. All of her jewelry shines within the sun's reach , making her look devine.

The awkward silence between you two grows with every second you spend in staring at her like a creep. Miranda finds this annoying, the paper she was playing with till now crumbles in her palm and the sound of it shakes you out of this weird trance.

"I remember vaguely about your young age..." - she starts again, trying to make the end of this conversation come faster - "but i don't recall asking about your education. Are you still in school?"

"In university actually"

"What do you study?" - Miranda is curious, not many people these days make it to university. Her desire to know more only grows with your answer.

"Well...for now I'm studying general medicine, but after that... I'm thinking of specializing in something higher"

The woman's smile is wide , revealing a nice set of white teeth beneath her soft looking lips. She is clearly interested.

"Do you want to be a doctor? A surgeon?" - her fingers tap on the wooden desk with every word, the almost silent sound somehow manages to crawl into your head and ring like a heavenly bell.

"More like a... scientist? I'm not sure yet.. but i do want to help people with diseases that are incurable."

"You want to cure something, no... someone specific" - Miranda's palms press on the desk and she lifts herself up , body hoovering over you - "Who?"

You take a sharp breath in , your fingers are trembling for some reason. Her eyes look crazy and awfully familiar but she's not scary. Then why are you afraid?

"My father" - you answer quickly , the memory of him fighting to take a breath running wild in your head - "i study so i can help him ...i- I'm here so i can pay for my education."

And other stuff you decide not to mention. But Miranda seems content, more than satisfied. She carefully sits back into the chair and sighs.

"You turn out to be very interesting" - her hand extend forward and you waste no time to grab and shake it with your own - "I'm looking forward to working with you"

"So i get the job?"

"All yours" - she confirms making your chest warm up with hope - "I've also decided to double your payment."

"Miranda...i don't think i can accept th-"

"If you think I'm pitying you - I'm not" - she snaps , her upper lip slightly twitching - "it's only fair if i pay you more , after all you're going to take care of both my children, correct?"

You nod slowly to show her you understand, even though you're nervously playing with your fingers in your lap you feel happy. Miranda's gaze lingers lower , somewhere under the desk as she speaks again.

"Speaking of which, i wanted to make it clear for you and i hope you understand" - the portrait of her face is yet again annoyed - "my children are no angels and trust me when i say I've lost more babysitters than you can imagine"

You laugh at the unusual way she says that. Lost...as if they all died. You nod again.

"I understa-"

"Lying was necessary" - she sounds concerned.

"I get it , i don-"

"They can be both difficult" - her gaze shifts to the floor again and she groans , looking awfully annoyed.

"I'm sure i can manage" - you give her a confident smile which she doesn't return.

"Very good then, remember your words" - she lifts herself up and slowly walks to a large cabinet near her desk , the long , black skirt she wear drags behind her on the floor like a dark veil - "i have a few rules you'll need to follow"

Of course she has rules. You hope it's nothing fancy or concerning.

"May I hear them?" - again, she doesn't return your friendly smile. Her moods are very... unique, easily changed and colorful as a rainbow.

"Your job is to take care of them , to entertain them. You're a babysitter, not a maid - I don't expect you to cook , clean or do anything like that"

"So... just wake them up, make sure they eat , play with them... do they go to school?" - while counting your duties on your fingers you tilt your head to the side , questioning her.

"They are homeschooled , i teach them everything they need to know" - she's back in her seat, holding firmly a piece of paper she got from the cabinet - "you can help them if they have any difficulties"

"I get it , anything else?"

"My job requires me to work from home...for now" - she looks to the side , glaring at a calendar on the wall , as if she's counting the days she will no longer work in the comfort of her home - "they know not to disturb me when I'm in my office or in the basement where my laboratory is , you can say I'm a scientist myself"

She gives you a warning not to go into her private space while she's busy , not like you were planning to. Yet you tell her you understand.

"Seems like I'm out of rules" - her fingers are alright crumpling the corners of the paper she's holding - "i do however have warnings"

"Let me hear them" - you sigh , leaning back into your chair and crossing your legs. A gesture that imitates her own body language.

"Eva can seem cold at first, she's not used to having other people around, but she's truly a sweetheart once she learns to trust you" - you notice how her face shines as she begins to talk about her daughter - "but i counsel you not to make any bets with her because she'll win and you'd probably loose something you love."

That makes you remember earlier when Eva managed to bring the heavy suitcase all the way up to your room. She said Miranda lost a bet with her. As your eyes meet her dark, blue ones you wonder what she promised to her little girl.

"Eveline is a complete opposite of her sister , she can very quickly become attached to you" - Miranda swallows as her eyes loose themselves somewhere down for a third time - "do be careful, she's more mature than she looks like"

Nothing she says surprises you, you drew these conclusions from your own observation of the children as soon as you met them. They are predictable, unlike their mother.

But Miranda...is weird. She looks young, too young for you to consider a mother with two children. If you were to see her on the street you'd think she's only a few years older than you. You also don't think she's the type of woman to carelessly get herself pregnant despite the fact that her daughters look nothing alike. She also claims to be unmarried but you're sure she owns a wedding ring. Miranda is a weird mystery.

"Is that everything, boss?" - she smirks at the nickname.

"I believe it is" - the paper which now destroyed corners is flipped and turned to you, finally revealing what it was - a contract - "I'll need you to sign this"

"Is this... necessary?" - you ask unsurely.

"Just sign , it's paperwork" - for a babysitter job?

You do as she tells you however you can't help but get this weird vibe, something is wrong. You don't know if it's her creepy smile or your trembling hand but the feeling slowly fades as the contract is pulled away from you - she stores it in the drawers of her desk this time.

Unbothered , she points at the door and waves you off. The sound of curious little feet running away from the entrance of her office as you press the handle makes you smile.

Once you close the door behind you - Miranda drops down to crawl on the floor , in search for her precious ring.

*****

Night comes faster than you expect. Today you understood that kids can be very exhausting but they are cute, you will give them that. As promised, Miranda only left her office to prepare lunch and then dinner, which you all ate together. She didn't have to tell her children what to study, they sat down and started reading and writing in the afternoon, on their own.

You can certainly get used to this life. Even if something bothers you, it will only be for a little while...you will endure. This is what you tell yourself as you lift the warm covers over your body and begin to drift to sleep on the comfortable bed.

One knock , then two , on the third you turn around, ignoring the sound and hoping you can escape from it. A few more follow and when you're sure they won't stop you open your eyes.

The time you spend trying to avoid things on the floor as you slowly make your way to the door seems like an eternity. But you manage and you gasp as you reveal who's behind all this knocking.

In front of you Eveline is crying, her face is red and puffy , her small hands appear to wipe away the tears that flow down her cheeks. Her head moves and she looks back in fear as if someone is chasing her.

"Is everything alright, sweetie?" - you kneel down to be at her eye level and you don't resist when she moves closer , her hands wrap around your neck and she hold you in a firm hug.

"Make them stop"

"Make who stop?" - you ask her , palms gently rubbing her back as she continues to sob on your shoulder.

"They keep on screaming, they won't stop" - she shakes while covering her ears - "make them stop , please make them stop"

"Is somebody here? Do you need me to get your mother?" - you ask nervously as you also begin to look around the corridor and the darkness within it.

"No!" - she exclaims , trying to break free from your grip, you allow her but she seems unsure in what to do. The tears continue to drop from her emerald eyes like rivers down her face.

"Did you have a nightmare?"

She shakes her head.

"Then what is it?" - you look at her with concern while she tugs on her pajamas.

"I can hear them..in the walls , they crawl on the floor and they scream" - she takes a deep breath as new clouds of tears appear in her eyes - "they scare me , they haunt me."

You don't hesitate to grab her hand and immediately start guiding her to Miranda's bedroom. You suprise yourself at how good you handle your steps in the dark. Eveline's sobs silence up when you knock on her mother's door.

For a moment nothing happens so you knock a few more times , only stopping when a lamp's bright light from inside suddenly shines between the cracks of the door.

Miranda's golden hair is messy and her face looks awfully sleepy as she greats you. Yet you notice a playful smile on her lips.

"I hope you're not getting used to waking me up in the middle of the night because-" - she stops when her eyes linger lower and she recognizes her daughter - "what's wrong, Evie?"

The black haired girl's hand jerks and you're forced to let go of her. She runs to Miranda and hugs her tightly, burying her head into the side of her stomach as she begins to sob again. Her mother's soft fingers run carefully through her hair.

"She probably had a nightmare" - you quickly explain, suddenly feeling your throat dry - "she was crying when she came to me and-"

"I didn't ask you"

You freeze. Miranda's voice can be sharp, and mean - you know that very well. But the way she said that , it sent shivers down your spine. You're too stunned to even try to apologies.

Eveline nods her head when her mother tells her to go into the room, you watch her slowly disappear from the door while Miranda's stone cold gaze stays on you.

"Children like attention, they seek it" - she begins to explain, making your vision focus again, on her - "i suggest you lock your door if you don't want to be bothered"

"Wait-"

The door is slammed closed before you can finish your sentence, the last words you hear are a rude "good night" from the blonde woman and then , a clicking sound.

However you stay at your place , staring at the floor, in front of the now locked door. You can hear their murmurs from inside but it's quiet , too quiet. You don't understand the things they are discussing.

You stay until the lamp from inside is turned off and you no longer see any source of light near you. You clench your hands into tight fists as you walk off.

This family is strange, and downright scary. What is wrong with them? What was Eveline talking about and why was Miranda acting like it was your fault?

You groan, grabbing your throbbing head in sweaty palms. You don't even consider locking your door , if it meant to ignore a child's cry for help then you weren't going to do it.

When you decide to go to bed again, however, you listen carefully to the silence and soon you tremble. Scraping, as if someone is trying to break through the wall. Loud banging , somewhere far , from the other rooms. Screaming from downstairs-

You run to the door, locking it not once but twice and you firmly hold the key in your hand while walking back to your bed. It's only then when you remember Miranda's words from earlier that day.

"My children are no angels".

[petalsofyouth]

my girl. pt1. | ran haitani x reader

tw: nothing that really is worth mentioning? alcohol consumption, a bit of violence (nothing graphic) and magical realism (if you squint and understand it) and that's all i think

wc: 9536

a small note before you begin! it was supposed to be a one shot, but then i was writing it and writing and writing and the story never ended so i decided to split it into two parts. i know majority of people prefer when the text is rather on the short side so here you all go. another thing i wanna mention is that this story is impromptu and it might show. i haven't had even a vague idea of the plot or vision or anything when i began to write it and the only thing in my head was ran taking long walks everywhere around Tokyo and then i heard the chime and that's it. this is probably why this story is going to be from ran's pov and a little bit of rindou's (i love him too much to not include him). okay, that's all! thank you for reading & i hope you like it.

~

The blue dim light from street lamps enveloped small grey buildings giving them an alien impression. Neon signs mingling with one another only add to the whole impression and once again Ran felt as if he was on some other planet in another universe. Or that it was very far in the future. As if he somehow found himself in 2808. 

But it was early spring of 2007 when cherry trees hadn't yet bloomed and a chilly wind roamed through Tokyo reminding its habitants of a long cold winter that was now already gone, a small odds and ends of it remaining in the corners of dark alleys. 

Still, this vague rapture between reality and Ran’s mind was pleasant. He had no problem dissociating from his life even for a couple of fleeting moments. Released from a prison not even a month ago - after Izana’s death he hadn’t had time to mourn -  these breaks felt deserving. He needed to rest, to stop what he was doing and for once breath without thinking what awaits him next. 

The situation wasn’t stable in the least. Roppongi was still theirs. It always would be. But there were other new gangs and Ran knew that someday their name won’t be enough. They need to do something - to be someone - to keep the Haitani brand they built well respected. The easiest option, of course, would be joining a gang, but Tenjiku was still alive in his chest and beating. And while there were in fact no S-62 generation anymore, dead and gone into eternity with Izana, it felt like a piercing sword of betrayal between his ribcage, to even think of a possibility to be a part of another formation. 

Yet, there would be another gang. Another defeat and maybe [for sure] a lot of other deaths. Ran knows all this and he knows that the time will come soon. Once South is released. He still has time though. Time to leave his new car in one of the one-way streets and wander around pretending his life is not his. 

A moment of weakness no one would ever know of. 

Today, he is in Nakano. He doesn’t remember the last time he was here which means it was insignificant or that he never stepped here before. The latter is quite impossible though. Ran has been everywhere around Tokyo. Never outside. This huge city  his own perfect golden cage. If he didn’t love luxury and comfort so much he would’ve thought he was trapped. But he doesn’t think this way and so he goes down the street observing people and shops. His mind is resting. 

Everything is okay. 

For a while. 

It’s evening. Somewhere between six and eight. It’s always hard to tell the exact time at these hours. Everything seems blurred and solid and one. The neon lights, street lamps, shops, buildings and people. Him, too. Ran indulges in this euphoric feeling. Hands in pockets of his sweats he looks around trying to pretend as if he is searching for something that waits for him. There should be something that desires to meet with him. He strongly believes in it and when he spots an old wooden sign that seems painfully familiar, he nods to himself that’s it and goes inside through an open door. An invitation or maybe just a coincidence. He closes the door once he is inside and insubstantial tingling of the bell echoes throughout the place. Ran raises his head, tilting it to the left and sees a glass hand painted chime just above him. There’s flowers all around it and he doesn’t need to squint his eyes to see that it’s purple orchids. His chest is warm then and he stares at the chime for a little longer than he should, a strange feeling occupying his chest. Whatever it is that brought him here was kind enough to welcome him. Ran doesn’t think it is a coincidence anymore. 

Inside, the store is bigger than it appears from outside. Long corridor leads to a spacious room and it’s only there that Ran understands that he is in a bookstore. He tries hard to remember when was the last time he picked up a book and the memory that resurfaces is not pleasant. It was back in juvie when he was around fourteen going fifteen. The book was a present from one of their teachers there and Ran to this day couldn’t understand why an old woman chose him out of everyone else. He wasn’t by any means academically bright nor was he showing a special interest in studies. [He dropped out of school the day he was released; he simply never showed up]. Yet, the teacher chose him. She gave him the book and spoke with him a little. What about Ran can’t remember. He barely listened to her back then. The book was a strange useless weight in his hands, but there was something sincere in the way she gifted it to him and that’s why later sitting beside Rindou on the rotten grass in the yard of their facility Ran read it from cover to cover. He liked the book. 

It was Yukio Mishima’s “The Sailor Who Fell from Grace with the Sea” and the story grasped him so much it was all he could think of for the next few months. But then they got released and his head was busy with new names in Roppongi and Tenjiku and other gangs and when all of these disappeared in ashes and he went back to juvie for the second time, he remembered the book that was safely stored in his and Rindou’s apartment in the box under his bed. But thinking about it only brought silent blue rage as he suddenly understood the meaning of the book. His eyes wide and empty, Ran wished an old teacher appeared and maybe tried to protect him from his fate again - because he deserved a second chance, didn’t he? everyone does - but no one came to save him and this time Ran left empty-handed with a promise from South as a bitter reminder that there was never an alternative to his fate. 

Met with floor to ceiling bookshelves full of books Ran observes book spines, colourful and not. He reads a few that stand out to him most. All authors and titles unknown to him. He knows he ought to leave. There’s nothing for him to do here and books are certainly the last of his interests. He should go home. Get a take out for him and Rindou, maybe invite Kakucho over and watch some TV or maybe they all should go out to a nice club, get drunk and fuck some pretty girls. 

Yeah, that would be nice. 

That is what he should do and that is exactly what he doesn’t do. 

He goes forward through the paper jungle until he spots a man standing behind the round counter. He is writing something, totally engrossed, his head down as he stands, slouching a little so the paper is right before his face. Ran doesn’t think he made any noise, but the man composes himself and looks up, smiling at him. The smile is warm and welcoming. 

Ran feels seen. 

“Hello. Are you looking for something specific or just browsing?” The man’s voice is calm and confident. He also sounds very kind and Ran is a tiny bit ashamed when he shakes his head an affirmative no which can be clearly translated into i don’t really know what I am doing here. The man laughs. “You can grab whatever catches your eye and read it right here to see if you like it. We have a reading zone right over there. In the next room.” 

When Ran stays where he was too lost to say anything, the man smiles again and this time he comes out from the counter and goes up to Ran. “What was the last thing you’ve read?” 

There’s no need to think much. His last book was his only book. “It was Yukio Mishima.” 

The man is surprised and he doesn’t hide it. He whistles. “The Sound of Waves, I suppose?” 

“No. The Sailor Who Fell from Grace with the Sea.” 

“A gruesome one, but reflective. Did you like it?” 

They chat about the book for a good half an hour and by the end of it Ran is pretty much relaxed. His usual passive confidence running through him again. It’s been nice to discuss the book with someone and for a pretty obvious reason, Ran imagines it was his teacher from juvie and not this man, an owner of the bookshop as he finds out during the talk. It’s wrong to pass one kindness shown to him onto another kind person, but it does help him to redeem himself and so he doesn’t argue with his mind much. 

With another book, this time “The Honjin Murders” under his arm, Ran sinks into the couch in the so-called reading room which is not really a room. Rather an extension of the main large one with beige noren in the middle. But  it has two couches, a table and a kettle with five cups and that’s all that it needs. It also has a huge window looking at traditional Japanese garden. The sound of running water in a small pond and green colour of permanent velvety moss is so calming that Ran loses himself in the scenery for the longest time. Book forgotten in his lap. 

He stays in the bookstore until the sky grows dark and silver stars are the only thing that make the vastness of this world bearable. 

“So. What do you think about it?” The sudden intrusion of the man into Ran’s little world doesn’t bother him. It’s calm and peaceful and safe here. And Ran stays Ran. The need to be in another's skin is gone. “Liked it or should I retire as a bookshop owner?” 

There’s a certain prominent playfulness in the man’s words, but Ran misses them, letting them slip into the past. He checks the number of the page he stopped on and making a mental note to remember it, turns to the man. “It’s good. Haven’t read much, but it’s interesting. I want to buy it.” Ran stretches his legs before him and looks around the room, his gaze stopping at the window and as some hours ago he finds himself admiring the raw beauty it carries. Whoever composed it saw the world differently and take it apart all you want, one thing after another, you would never quite understand the meaning behind it. It will always slip away from you. It’s almost like losing a thing you’ve never ever had. But sadder. More melancholic. 

“It’s my wife's last creation.” The man says and for the first time his voice isn’t cheerful. It’s barely there. “For our family, that’s it.” 

There’s nothing to be said and so Ran doesn’t utter a word and in his silence hides an understanding that is more meaningful than any form of consolation. 

They sit in the room - that in the pure meaning of the word is not really a room, yes, it just has a plain beige noren behind the couch - admiring the view for a little more. Each hanging to the illusion of their own; both no more than small sparkles of short lived joy. 

The silent magic is taken away as sudden as it settled down and then the unceasing garden turns into simply well composed rocks and azaleas. The change is devastating, but it’s not forever, and so it’s okay. Besides, the change is you. It has your eyes, your nose and your voice. 

“Dad, I am good to go. Don’t forget to eat please. I made nikujaga. Okay? I would’ve loved to have dinner together, but I have an assignment to finish and… oh. I am sorry. You aren’t alone. Sorry.” 

It has your lips too. And your smell. Persimmons, nail polish and glossy magazines.

But for now Ran doesn’t know it’s yours. 

For now the only thing he is sure of is that he wants to come here tomorrow and maybe gaze at the garden and read a book and disturb the orchid chime at the door to hear its sweet melody. And maybe see you too, because his want to pretend being someone else somewhere else, is gone. He wants to be Ran Haitani and be accepted as such more than anything. And he burns with curiosity. He burns with longing. 

You don’t exchange a word and Ran leaves the bookstore with a gift from your father and a promise to come by again. It’s really rare to see young people in here and having you here reminds me of me so many years ago, it makes me twenty again, you are twenty, aren’t you. 

That night he also finds out that the family business restaurant down their street makes quite good nikujaga. 

They eat it together with Rindou while reminiscing about those who will never come back.  

*** 

The next day Ran is at the bookstore again.

And the day after that too and after a week or so he is considered a regular. 

He doesn’t see you often and in all honesty he isn’t coming there for you. It’s the whole atmosphere of the place. The garden and the chime and the small talk with your father that draws him back. 

You, a fleeting presence of the bookstore, he only has seen a couple of times. Not more. Once with a pile of cartridge paper of various sizes under your arm you were cursing under your breath trying your best to go down the stairs. And then the next time when you brought two bento boxes to the reading area where he and your dad were talking about your dad’s many voyages of his youth. Ran remembers the conversation particularly because he likes listening to your dad’s stories of the world. Never once in his life was he outside of Tokyo, your father's memories of other lands become his. 

The meal you brought - and made yourself - is quite simple. It contains rice with seaweed, grilled fish and two hard boiled eggs. Along with some fresh sesame spinach salad on the side. It smells delicious and as you set two bento boxes on the table you go back upstairs and this time return with two bright yellow Yebisu cans. 

Sudden kindness is sour to Ran. He freezes in his place, eyes on the bento box, as he listens to the small conversation you make with your dad. Confusion must be evident on his face, because the next second he hears your voice. You are speaking to him. “Do you not like beer, Ran?” 

“No. It’s fine. I do.” His reply is simple and not efficient. It doesn’t make you any less doubtful that everything’s alright. 

So you ask again. “Is it the eel then? Dad has tonkatsu leftovers upstairs. Would you…”

"No. No. It’s fine. Thank you very much. I appreciate it.” 

You nod, shrugging your shoulders. He probably doesn’t sound very convincing to you, but that’s the best he can offer you. Not having anything more to say to him, you say to your dad that you are going home now. You have a project to finish. You wish them both goodnight. 

If your dad noticed Ran stiffness he doesn’t mention it and Ran is very grateful for it, because while he always knows what to say, he finds it very hard to find an easy way to explain how and why this innocent act of compassion, a demonstration of belonging, irritated him. 

He is ugly on the inside and scarred. 

He doesn’t want you to know that. 

[He doesn’t want to remember it either.] 

But today is not the day you will discover it and so he can breathe freely, planting a hope that maybe you won’t ever know him for what he is outside of this place where he kills every bright part of him with a single strike of his baton.

*** 

During the next couple of months Ran comes to the conclusion that he should stop visiting a bookshop. 

It’s not a sudden decision. He has a whole list of reasons ready, but as he goes over them in his head, he finds himself already on the porch in Yokohama. The chime sings and he is once again welcomed by your father to come inside, to have an interesting conversation and maybe help out a little bit if he doesn’t mind [he never does], only to eat a delicious meal you made as a pleasant conclusion to the day. 

Ran is young, but he is no fool and he knows that soon enough he is going to get attached to this place and he simply can not afford it. South is going to get released and then they will form something big and serious and he is going to be involved. The nice little illusion he created here has no place in his world. He should stop coming. 

That’s what he decides when he steps through the door one particularly warm golden evening in spring. It’s unusually quiet. No customers inside and your father isn’t at his regular place behind the till. Ran frowns. His blonde eyebrows coming together in the middle of his forehead. He stops looking in between the shelves. He finds nothing and so he goes behind the noren, to the reading zone. 

“Oh. I thought you won’t come today.” You sit on the chair with your right leg to your chest, a bottle of black nail polish standing on the table in front of you. 

Ran bites back a smile. You painting your toes inside of the bookstore is so out of place, it’s almost comical. “Why would you think that?” 

You don’t answer his question and it seems as if you haven’t heard him at all. He is compelled to repeat it, but instead he sits on the sofa opposite you and watches you doing your nails. The whole task is relaxing. You don’t mess up even once which is pretty much impressive. He whistles and you raise your head, looking at him, confused. 

“What?” 

“Nothing. You are just being really good at it.” 

There’s no reply to this either. You continue painting your nails and he continues watching you. He doesn’t think about anything in particular and rather than moving his eyes along with the brush tip, he remains impassive. If you think he is being weird or creepy you don’t say it. In fact, to Ran it seems as if you have forgotten about him altogether. Your presence is strong to him, but his doesn’t touch you in the slightest.

He is both. Disappointed and glad. 

It is his last time here - or so he thinks - and a premonition stored up in his chest is vibrating. It says to him that if you notice him he won’t be able to escape. [He only hears the second half of the sentence. He only hears what he wants to.] 

Relaxed and focused on your toes he loses his usual alertness so when he finally understands that all your nails are glossy back and you have stopped applying the colour, he raises his eyes. Firstly looking at the closed bottle of polish as if to make sure you are really done and only then at you. 

You are staring. You are noticing. Ran shivers. 

“What’s your height?” You ask. 

He frowns. The question is unexpected and he swears he somehow hears the chime’s sweet melody. But no sound comes after and he knows he is mistaken. 

“I am 1.83.” 

You lick your lips, tilting your head to the side and the smile that graces your future are adorable and terrifying at the same time. “Good. Do you mind helping me out in one of my school projects? I am at Bunka and I have this project coming up where I need to give yukata a modern touch. So I’ve been thinking if you don’t mind that I can use you as my reference? You won’t do much. I will just take your measurements and then based on you create a yukata. What do you think?” 

There’s not just one, but so many reasons as to why he should say no, stand up and leave the bookstore behind him forever. The garden, the chime, the kindness - everything - should become a nice memory. The one he would go back to in the moments of discouragement. In the shameful fall of weakness. 

There’s too many of them and Ran can’t name even one. So he nods at you. Yeah. Sure. Why not? 

“Thank you. I really wanted you to agree. I’ve been thinking about suggesting it to you since I first saw you.” Your fingers graze over your fresh pedicure. To check if it’s dried. You are obviously satisfied, because you pull out twirled napkins from in between your toes and stand up. “Do you like oranges? I am gonna go upstairs and bring some for us.” 

When you are behind the couch he sits on, you stop. 

“But you are peeling them. I hate peeling oranges.” 

It’s not a drastic confession, but Ran feels like he just found out your sweetest secret. 

*** 

Pre-summer breeze carries a faint smell of changes and new times. 

It doesn’t specify when and what it will bring. It doesn’t make it easier and the barbed metal ball in the pit of everyone’s stomach twirls, scratching insides. They bleed; skin torn apart and crimson. 

Everyone acknowledges this lazy slow shift. No one does anything in particular about it, because, well, there’s nothing to be done. What is for you will find you anywhere: on a busy Shibuya crossing meddled between thousands of people, in your sunny apartment where you sleep on the floor after a full day of school or in front of the evergreen garden in a small bookshop in Yokohama. 

There’s no point in trying to escape fate and therefore there’s no point in worrying and stressing out. The only thing Ran does - that he can think of as a succumbing to summer breeze  - is wearing a too thick jacket for the already sunny and warm weather. When Rindou points it out he says he is doing it in the name of fashion. His younger brother grimaces, but leaves it at that. It sounds pretty much like Ran’s usual bullshit. No need to worry. 

And so life goes on and the wind continues to blow.

*** 

His help in your project consists of standing still as you take his measurements. 

That’s all. 

The first time you do it he asks you if he needs to do something else and when you say no he is both, disappointed and relieved. Disappointed because he finds it being your model more boring than he expected and relieved because you don’t need him to do anything and that means only one thing - you won’t have any expectations of him and he won’t fail. In your eyes he will remain as Ran, a twenty years old man, who once in your life used to visit your father’s bookstore for a couple of months and helped you with your fashion school project and then disappeared and you’ve never heard about him after that. 

Becoming your fleeting good memory is what he thinks he wants.

*** 

“I need you to raise your hands and hold them like that for a minute. Okay?” You say patting his shoulder as you emerge from behind him. This is the fourth time you’ve taken his measurements. He doesn’t understand why you need to do that so many times, but he doesn’t ask. You bite your lip - a small habit you have when you think really hard about something - and eye his earring. “Does it match your eye colour? You are so corny.” 

He smirks and watches you wrap tape around his underarms and then chest. Ran only speaks when you sit on the floor near the table and scribble down the numbers. “I like it. Do you not?” 

“You being corny or your earring?” You ask him, your attention on your journal, not him. Some days ago he asked you to show him your sketches of the yukata and you declined, totally exaggerating in his opinion the importance of not a single soul intervening in your creative flow. 

“Both.” 

“Let me think about it.” Your voice decreases its volume as you speak and by the end of the sentence it’s a small whisper. As usual you don’t reply right away and Ran loses his hope of getting the answer, but after a while you close your journal and turn to him. “I don’t mind either. I am guessing they both make you you and so I am okay with that.” 

He thinks you barely know him and he barely knows you, but he believes your words nonetheless. There’s a sheer simplicity in them and that makes him trust you all the more. You might not be very familiar with each other and you are absolutely unaware of what he is doing, what he has done and what he will do in the future. You don’t peer. You don’t ask him unnecessary questions. You have no idea what kind of person he is and yet you still accept him. In Ran eyes this is considered courage and kindness and everything good in this world combined. Everything he doesn’t deserve. Everything he still wants. 

And so the next day when Ran comes into the bookshop and sees you and your father at the till, he makes sure you notice the tattoo on his arm and when your father’s forehead is full of wrinkles, he thinks this is it, he lost this place forever, your father asks if it’s a full body or just an arm? He says, i have a tattoo too, but it’s smaller than yours. 

“It covers the left side of my body. My brother and I got it in juvie.” 

“I think we need tea for this conversation.” Your father answers and when Ran understands that there’s no anger, no resentment, no rejection and only acceptance, he realises that after all he was stupid to believe it would be otherwise. 

The chime and the garden already whispered it to him. He was just too self-centred to notice. 

*** 

The revelation about that certain part of Ran’s life brings obstacles in your work. You tear down your initial sketches and beg Ran to strip his clothes so you can see his tattoo. You plead, saying that it’s really really really important and crucial and you need to see it for you to understand him better. To make his yukata perfect. 

For obvious and understandable [not for you] reasons he rejects. You pout, but all charms you send his way, simply do not work. At last, he lets you turn around his left arm however you want and after the second hour when the left part of his body gets numb and sore he has a suspicion you are doing it on purpose. A little revenge. 

“You know, you are making it difficult for both of us.” You sigh, placing two steaming cup noodles on the table. The bookshop has been closed for an hour or so. It’s quiet, the only noise coming from upstairs where your dad is watching what seems to be MTV Japan. Ran only knows because sounds are familiar. Rindou likes watching MTV too. “I don’t understand why you are being so modest.” 

You hand him metal chopsticks and as he takes them he also grabs your wrist. Somehow, you aren’t confused. You turn to him and the calm expression on your face startles him. He lets you go. 

“Just don’t feel like it.” He says instead, his shoulders going up and down. None of you don’t speak as you eat. If Ran wasn’t as observant as he is, he would've thought you are listening to Masaharu Fukuyama’s song. But he is observant and he knows that you are just pretending to listen to your dad’s TV. He notices you stealing glances of him every now and then and when he catches your eyes with his, you bashfully turn away. It’s too obvious that you want to ask him something and he allows you to do it, but when enough time passes and all opportunities are lost, he places the cup on the table and with elbows on his knees, asks you what the matter is. 

As expected you don’t answer right away. Hiding behind a pink cup you look at the garden illuminated by stone lanterns. “Are you uncomfortable with me?” 

“No.” His response is immediate and you turn to him, surprised. 

“No? Then why?” You scrutinise him, he - a mere subject before you. “Are you by any chance..?” 

The last sentence is unfinished as it blurts out of you so quickly and you stop so abruptly as your eyes widen that Ran already knows what you wanted to say. An amused smile appears on his face. He laughs. “I am not a virgin. Don’t worry about it.” 

“Why would I worry about it?” There’s an offence in your voice and he laughs some more. 

He laughs and laughs and laughs stopping only when your eyes soften and lips form the prettiest smile he has ever seen. “What?” It’s his time to wonder now. 

“Nothing.” You look past him at the clock that hangs on the wall between bookshelves. Even with TV noise Ran can hear them counting the time.  “I am going to head out in twenty minutes.” 

“You don’t live here?” “Oh. No. I live in Shibuya. In my mom’s house.” 

“We are almost neighbours. My little brother and I live in Roppongi.” 

“I suspected just as much.” 

When he laughs again, the sparkle in your eyes reappears, but this time it is familiar [even if it’s too far to be burnt by it yet] so he doesn’t stop.

*** 

In the middle of the summer, on a hot July day, Kakucho asks Ran to help him do his annual shopping. Despite the air feeling like dragon breath and unreasonable early 12pm meeting, Ran agrees. It might be because he adores shopping or because he hasn't seen you in a week and there’s a good chance he might stumble upon you on Cat street. It’s in Shibuya and you’ve mentioned before that you live close to it. That’s of course if his calculation is right and you are already back from your trip to Osaka. 

There is a special nook in Ran’s brain where he holds the memory of you telling him you are going to be away for a couple of weeks. It was the first time he was allowed to be inside of the bookstore's garden. The day was sunny and pleasant in a non-caring manner. Inside of the hugely oversized white t-shirt - that Ran suspected was male - you had sour cherries, carrying them in the pouch of the said t-shirt. It reminded Ran of kangaroos and therefore of Rindou who liked this weird animal when he was little. 

When you sat down on the wooden floor, boards under you squeaking, cherries fell in your lap and Ran stared at them for the longest time. Bloody red on sparkling white. He was no artist, but in that moment he wished he was so he could immortalise this moment forever. Have someone else to see with the same raw emotion he did. If you noticed his hesitation you didn’t say anything. You spoke to him about your best friend, her grandparents and trip to Osaka. Saying you won’t be in Tokyo for two weeks or maybe a bit more. You didn’t know, really. You were excited and happy. 

Sitting inside the garden Ran ate cherries from your laps. Fruit scattered along you seemed sacred. As you were telling him how much more delicious takoyaki was in Osaka than it could ever be in Tokyo, you glanced at him. Your lips pink from cherries tugged in a pretty smile and Ran knew he would eternally miss this very moment; you.  

Wanting to accidentally meet you now was not a surprise to him. 

The yes of course I’d go with you to Kakucho was too said very easily. Much to Rindou’s suspicion. 

Despite his desire to see you he doesn’t search for you and so shopping and hanging out with Kakucho is pleasant. Ran truly loves his company. Kakucho is comfortable to be around and he is too polite and too kind and sometimes Ran catches himself thinking that Kakucho has no business being a criminal. He isn’t like them. He is [almost] innocent. But then Ran remembers the way Kakucho’s eyes light up in a fight. How he lands one blow after another and when his opponent is defeated, sprawling on the ground, and the look full of enthusiasm on Kakucho’s face shatters all illusions Ran might have about him. 

It’s truly peculiar how there’s perhaps two Kakucho that never meet. One that has a kind heart and gentle soul and the other one that is corrupted by anger and rage. Ran has seen both of them. Ran wonders if he is the same. If there’s good in him too. 

He sees you first. You stand outside of a shop with hands full of bags and a cup of an iced coffee. You are wearing a plaid short skirt, a blouse and a beret and while the outfit is perfectly composed it seems too out of season. But by now he knows you quite well to tell that it was intentionally done. He thinks you look beautiful [as you always do] and Ran allows himself to admire you a little bit more, eyes lingering on your face. 

“She’s way out of your league, Haitani. Didn’t think she’s your type. More like Rindou’s.” Attentive to details as usual Kakucho immediately notices Ran’s interest in you. They both stopped under the streetlamp that won’t share its light for some hours yet. 

Ran smirks, he lets out a short laugh and tears his eyes off you, looking at Kakucho. “You think I can’t pull her off?” 

“Absolutely not.” 

The verdict sounds like a challenge. Ran snorts and takes a step in your direction, partially confident, partially pondering if he really can’t make you like him. The thought is cold, but it changes with a rush of excitement that strikes his body when you raise your head and see him. There’s a huge smile on your face and in your eyes when you notice him and he grins back. 

“Ran!” You call him by his first name before you fly across the street and press your body into his as you hug him, your arms snaking their way across his neck. Plastic bags bump onto his back and thawed drops of water from the coffee cup stain his shirt. But he doesn’t mind it. He feels you smiling into his skin and he doesn’t mind it at all. “You won’t believe me, but I had a feeling I would see you today here.” 

“You probably just wanted to see me that much.” He replies in his usual lazy manner and he can feel you smiling wider, but then you pull away from his arms and glare at him acting bothered by his bold words. 

[He knows you enough to say you aren’t.]

“You so wish I was.” Your words are true and he almost admits it - maybe he does it with his eyes gleaming so intensely as he loses himself in your presence, but neither of you notices it, only Kakucho who stands to his left - yet you interrupt him. “What are you doing here?” 

It’s a sudden violent jerk that Kakucho makes that peel your attention from Ran to his friend. You gasp and purse your lips, tilting your head as you take him in. Whatever you are thinking about Kakucho is masked by your so out of character sweet smile [Ran tries to remember if you ever been this friendly with him and miserably fails] and a barely there whisper of your full name.

Ran frowns. The joy from seeing you evolves into slight annoyance. It grows even more when Kakucho, being the sweet guy he is, suggests they walk you home. And that’s how Ran finds himself carrying your bags full of fabrics and buttons - you say so yourself when he asks you why they are so damn heavy - to your mother’s home where you live because you claim it’s closer to school this way and not at all because it’s closer to your mom. 

Ran knows first what it’s like to lose parents and all the micro ways to cope with the loss. The colour you bleed is all too familiar to him; to his own. 

The walk to your home is short and soon enough the three of you are standing in front of a nice small two story house. Its grey facade and black roof doesn’t suit you at all. Your house [your mother’s house] is too dull for you, but Ran knows better than to say this outloud. Instead he appreciatively hums as he focuses on some pretty yellow flowers standing in a huge pot next to the entrance. 

“It was really nice to meet you, Kakucho! Never knew Ran has such nice friends.” You say accepting your bags from Ran’s hands. 

“He never mentioned me?” He asks, sounding genuinely offended. “Not even once?” 

The sound of your giggles rises in the air and you shake your head an affirmative ‘no’. “No. He mentioned his little brother a couple of times, though. Actually. I’ve been thinking. Me and my friends are going to “Womb” today to welcome us coming back to Tokyo so if you want to come along, you can. What do you think?” 

It’s Ran who’s been eerily silent all the time that responds. “Yes. Of course. I’ll pick you up.” 

“Great. See you at nine then?” 

“Can’t wait.” 

The words have a slightly ominous feeling to them. Maybe it’s just the tone with which he says them or maybe you both have been struck by the gift of foretelling because when your eyes stay on him a little too longer than usual, there’s no mistake that you know how today will change you both. 

*** 

Inside the bathroom where Ran has been soaking for a good hour the air is heavy. It’s hard to breathe and the voices that slip from the living room to the confinement of white marbled floor and white walls aren’t tangible. Ran catches them again and again and again, but they don’t stay and he finds himself on a rope that leads to the inner world of his very being. Somewhere where he doesn’t want to be. Ever. 

Shadows there are cruel and they bite worse than an angry stray dog. Those gushes never close and Ran knows for a fact that he will have to tend to them till the day he dies. 

“No. Ran never spoke about her.” It’s Rindou’s voice that takes Ran out of the whitish void of nothingness. It’s Rindou’s voice that speaks about you. “Is she pretty?” 

There’s no answer to that from Kakucho. Only laughter from both of them and a whistle from Shion. Ran can only guess what gesture or facial expression his friend made to describe you. 

“Ran type of pretty or my type of pretty?”  

“You think I know what you consider pretty, Madarame? You’ve never even said oh look that girl is pretty. You are always like bet she’d take my dick really well.” 

They laugh again and their laugh is warm and Ran smiles the way he would be as if he was with them now and not inside a bath full of scorching hot water. Yet, he belongs there, with them, and so he allows himself to be a part of conversation about you, about him. 

The outburst of joy follows a content silence which is interrupted by Kakucho's loud sigh. Ran can’t see them, but he can tell that his friend is smiling and he has Rindou’s and Shion’s full attention on him. 

“What is it?” “Nah. You gotta see it for yourself, Rin. I am not going to take the experience away from you.” 

“Honestly? I just hope she is not a stupid bitch.” 

“They all were stupid bitches to you, Rindou.” 

“Were they?” 

“Oh, yeah.” This time it’s Shion. “Even though Yui was pretty much fuckable you still called her a stupid bitch to her face.”

"That's ‘cause she was and Ran never went out with her. They just fucked a couple of times. Anyways, should we…” 

The rest of the conversation gets lost in between splashing water when Ran gets out of the bath. His skin is tingling and red as he wraps his body in the soft towel [Rindou likes prickly ones more]. He wipes the misted mirror with the back of his hand and when he finally sees himself in the reflection he can’t help but wonder from where in his cursed body this sweet tug comes from when he hears his friends talking about you.

And because he has no answer he at least can hope that his younger brother won’t consider you a stupid bitch. It seems really important to him in the box that is the white room. 

*** 

The grey house doesn’t make any impression on Rindou. He can’t understand if you are rich or poor or what your status is or anything related to your character because the house is dull. It’s ordinary and Rindou thinks that even he with his minimalistic approach to life and fashion got to hate it too. 

Maybe, though, he is salty that his older brother urged him away from the front seat of his car the moment the freshly changed tires of Ran’s Honda stopped in front of your house. 

His eyes stop out of the huge pot with flowers - he can’t tell the colour of them though, his poor eyesight being an obstacle - and then drift to the enormously large window where he can spot your dark silhouette. You probably are putting your shoes on. 

Rindou couldn’t care less about you. That though doesn’t stand for his brother. He loves Ran more than he loves anything and when he stares at his brother stealing quick glances at the house he swears he can see through the walls and see you just as well as Ran does. His heart [it’s Ran’s] beats faster and faster and long fingers grip the steering wheel too painfully. Anticipation, excitement, eagerness. 

Rindou feels it all through Ran. He feels what Ran feels for you. 

So when you slide into the passenger seat in your really well put too stylish outfit Rindou is overwhelmed by the moon waves of calmness that strike through his body [Ran’s]. He is burnt when you touch Ran’s arm and side hug him. To Rindou you are like a blazing sun, but for now he feels you through Ran and the intensity of it all swallows him whole. He is barely here. 

Until you turn your face to him and say. “You must be Rindou. You look so different from Ran, but you are the same.” 

“I don’t know what I would’ve done to you if you mistook my little brother for Shion.” Ran laughs a pretty earnest laugh and a huge smile blossoms on your face as you turn to him not waiting for Rindou’s answer. “It’s Shion Madarame, by the way. My friend.” 

“Nice to meet you, Madarame.” You speak as you lazily stretch your hands before yourself. You are wearing opera gloves.  “Nice to meet you too, Rindou.” 

The first name basis specifically for him doesn’t go unnoticed, but Rindou doesn’t say anything. He is perplexed by you and what you are. 

He might not know you at all yet. You might be nothing to him and that dull grey house is so distasteful he swears he doesn’t want to see it ever again. Yet he likes you already. Through Ran he does. And that’s why when your eyes meet his in the rearview mirror and you smile at him he smiles right back at you. 

*** 

“Womb” is the farthest thing from some classy nightclubs in Roppongi that Ran and Rindou like very much.

It’s too spacious, too grand and too flashy. It’s pretentious. And as well as Rindou hates this obnoxious trait in people he hates it with the same passion in the inanimate objects. The whole club and people in it irritates him to the point where it’s borderline rude angriness. Kakucho is the first one to notice it and he - a gentle soul - in an attempt to soothe Rindou throws his arm around his shoulders. Rindou appreciates the gesture, but it doesn’t dissolve an annoying feeling. 

He, for whatever reason it may be, wishes Ran would notice his changed demeanour, but right now it’s too much to ask. Ran is focused on you. Rindou sees the way his brother’s head slightly leans to yours as he attentively listens to whatever it is you are saying to him. You hold Ran by his elbow leading him to wherever your friends are. Shion follows close behind, but he doesn’t participate in the conversation and Rindou understands too well why. 

His chest hurts. 

But he is curious and an unknown eagerness comforts him. 

Every single one of your friends is stylish. Too stylish. Pretentiously stylish. Rindou assumes they also are quite rich or either they have connections. Tons of alcohol and a spacious private booth overlooking the dance floor is what makes him think so. If he was Ran he would also notice designer clothes and bags, but he doesn’t. You introduce them to your friends and one of the girls eyes Ran a bit too much. Too suspicious. But then she relaxes and her eyes go wide in recognition. She exclaims, now I understand why the yukata she makes is so pretty, and instead of looking at Ran who with a half-smile looks at you, you look at the floor. 

When the clock strikes just one after midnight Rindou is more than curious and a tiny bit tipsy. He now knows every single one of your friends - and you - by name. He knows that one of your best friends is in Geidai studying architecture, and the other one studies design in the same school as you. He also understands that one of the boys - your classmate - likes you very much and it’s so painfully obvious, Rindou cringes every single moment he approaches you in his lame attempts to flirt. [Not that Rindou is better at flirting, he just doesn’t hit off with this particular guy or rather it’s the guy who doesn’t like either Rindou, nor Ran or Kakucho or Shion]. And as expected one of the girls sneaks glances at Ran a bit too much and as expected Ran notices it and as expected he doesn’t pay any attention to her at all. 

But both of you don't speak much either and that’s where Rindou’s curiosity lies. 

Just one after midnight you plop on the sofa beside Rindou and set a half-full glass full of gin on the table. You move it away, dragging it across the table, with the back of your left hand. The sound it makes is not pleasant. It sounds tired. 

“So?” You say. 

“So?” He echoes, turning his head to look at you. In the blue disco lights that reflect off your skin you look ethereal.

You whine. Dramatically. And biting a lip you  tilt your head to the side. “I asked first, Ran’s little brother.” 

He gasps then and under the influence of alcohol your words that weren’t said in intention to be playful seem so funny to him, he laughs. You laugh too. 

“Ran’s little brother? Is this how he calls me behind my back?” He asks you, a beautiful teasing smile on his lips. “Have he told you a lot about me?”

You squint your eyes at him and scoot closer, the leather under you squeaking. “Not really.” You move even closer and then you lay your hand on his arm squeezing it. “He said you love music, want to own a club one day, hate McDonalds and that your favourite colour is white.” 

“That’s all he said?” 

“No. Not really. He mentioned that you like DJing. Have a whole setup at home and he hates it when you use it, because it’s too loud, but he lets you do your thing anyway. Oh. And your obsession with the gym.” 

There’s a loud noise coming from the dance floor. It’s a woman screaming. She sounds happy. Music doesn’t stop and she screams some more. No one pays her attention besides you. You turn around and a small smile tugs at your lips. When you shift back you lay your head on Rindou’s shoulder. He doesn’t mind it. 

He doesn’t mind you at all anymore. 

*** 

The night passes quickly as all good pleasant things do.

But as usual there’s a moment of worry. A moment of uncertainty. A threshold to where all the things go wrong. It finds you after four in the morning. 

The music is slowing down and people that have remained are barely a crowd. The club is going to close in an hour or so. The lights are fully on and Rindou is discussing with Kakucho how everyone will get home. Despite you and Ran barely interacting throughout the whole night both boys are sure he would want to take you home. But for now he is still sitting at the table chatting up a cute girl. A friend of yours from the oil painting department of Geidai. The nature of your relationship with Ran is more abstract than ever. Rindou can’t crack it up. 

“Here you are.” The voice is loud so everyone stops talking and turns their attention toward a young obviously very drunk man stepping through the door. “And here I was thinking what club you were whoring yourself out today. With whom are you sleeping these days?! Is it this one? Or this one? Or maybe it’s this one?” 

The man is tall and he is very beautiful and that makes the situation even sadder than it already is. When beautiful things are stained, unfairly so, they become cruel. The ugliness seeping through the holes. 

“Orochi.” It’s you who speak and so it’s you to whom the words were addressed to. “Go away. You are drunk.” 

“Will you come with me?” He asks, extending his hand. 

You close your eyes and take a deep breath. “No. I won’t.” 

"Is it because I am drunk or is it because you have someone else?”

Your best friend snorts. “You say it as if you were ever together. Come on, man. Get the fuck out of here. None of us wants you here. Especially her.”  

His head falls to his chest and he lets out a miserable laugh that reminds Rindou more of a bark. “This is how it is?”

The knife appears from his pocket too quickly, too sudden no one reacts in time. But this Orochi guy is intoxicated a bit too much and so when he flashes it aiming to drag it across your face, it doesn’t even touch you. He tries a second time, cursing at you. Stupid ugly bitch, he spits, the knife slicing the air again. Such a whore. Dumb fucking slut.

“Easy here. Watch how you speak to my girl. One more word and you are not going to end up simply beaten.” Ran voice is steady. It’s venomous. And what everyone perceives as a promise for Rindou is a certain fact. 

“Who the fuck are you?” “I am Ran Haitani and right now we are going to leave, but I will find you a day after tomorrow and you are going to regret every single word you said.” Ran crosses the booth stepping in between you two. His back to the guy. It’s disrespectful. It’s humiliating. It’s very Ran of him. Rindou can’t see from where he stands besides the door, but by the way Ran’s hands rise up, he can assume he is holding your face in his palms. He whispers to you. “You okay? Let’s get you home.” It’s stupid and naive, but it’s expected for Orochi to be hurt and another attempt to poke - this time Ran - with his knife is stopped by Shion who is the closest to where you stand. He hits him in his jaw and the booth suddenly turns red. There’s a tooth laying under the sofa now. 

When Ran turns around. His face is calm. He holds your hand and even with his bad eyesight Rindou catches the tenderness with which he caresses your skin with his thumb. “Don’t overdo it, Shion. I want him to at least show me some resistance when I see him next time.” “Aye, captain. As you wish. Go get your girl home. Me and Kakucho will take care of the rest. Right, Kaku?” 

Kakucho shrugs. There’s nothing really left to say or to take care of. The world is suddenly gloomy and cold. 

*** 

Rindou doesn’t really understand how, but he ends up in your house with a bowl of instant noodles and leftover chicken. 

You and Ran sit opposite him on the couch. Your knees are touching. You speak of cherries. Rindou has no idea what is so amusing about these specific fruits, but he listens anyway. The TV is off and your conversation the only entertainment available. 

“I am actually really sorry you had to witness that.” You sigh, head low. You aimlessly poke your noodles with chopsticks as you speak. “I’ve never had anything with Orochi. He was just a friend of mine and he said I led him on, but I don’t think I’ve ever done something for him to believe I like him or you know…  He just made a move one day and I said no. And that was it. Mizu says he is obsessed.”

“That he is for sure.” Ran takes the bowl away from you. “Good thing he won’t be anymore.” 

“Ran… I don’t want you to… It’s not necessary. It’s too much.” The tone is almost pleading and Rindou knows his brother a bit too much, feels him a little too well to know two things. The first one is that he hates it when people he cares about decline his help. The second one is that he terribly achingly wants to kiss you and it only intensifies when you continue speaking. “It’s not that I am afraid for Orochi, but I don’t want you to get in trouble because of me. It’s like a betrayal and I don’t want to betray you ever.” 

“Hey. Can I use your bathroom for ten minutes?” Both you and Ran snap your attention to Rindou who stands up from the armchair. You furrow. “It’s upstairs. Second room to the left. And you can use it for however long you want. Do you actually both want to stay over tonight? You are probably too tired to drive anyway.” 

“Yeah. Yeah. Good. I’ll be back in ten minutes exactly.” 

When Rindou disappears in the blue haze of dawn that slips through the windows of the second floor he hears Ran’s soft laugh and your whispering. It’s probably about him, but then again, he doesn’t mind it.

He doesn’t mind sitting on the closed lid of the toilet in your house for fifteen minutes - just for a good measure - so as to give his brother a chance to slowly kiss your bad night and worries away. To pull the thread of sadness that has been knitted through your face since the episode in the club and all the way till now away. He doesn’t mind it either when he goes back, fake yawning, and sees his brother laying on you, his face in your neck as he draws comfort from your warmth. He fetches you a pillow and a blanket and takes you to your bedroom, leaving you two alone. Ran might pretend he is sleeping, but Rindou knows better. He doesn’t mind this innocent lie. 

He doesn’t mind you and as he lays in your bed he thinks that there was never a single time today where he wanted to call you a stupid bitch just like all girls Ran has been with before. But then was Ran ever with someone before? 

Rindou says no. He says it’s loud and then he remembers how Ran called you his girl. Rindou thinks it suits you a bit too much. Being Ran’s girl and all that it includes. 

He doesn’t know you well and there’s still a long road before he does, but he trusts you and he likes you and before he falls asleep he hears a sweet sound of glass chime. The aroma of orchids fills the house. 

[theblueprinxe]

I will find you in every life (Chapter 2)

Chapter 2 time! This one may be a bit rushed or super long but trying to move the story along a bit more without making a bunch of middle chapters. Enjoy!

All she could do was stare at the other, wondering if she somehow managed to give herself a concussion and this was some weird hallucination. There was no way he could be real but the word's were still replaying in her head. "I thought I'd never find you."

She felt sick or maybe confused? Whatever she was feeling it was overwhelming her and the need to pass out was coming over her. She needed to get out of there and go somewhere to calm down.

The pale elf's eyes seemed to be studying her, as if waiting for her to reply. When he noticed the look of confusion and panic on her, he moved closer to her as if to comfort her but she didn't give him the opportunity. She quickly pulled her hand away from him, not daring to even pick up her notepad as she bolted down the sidewalk. The faint sound of him calling out to her faded as she moved quickly down a back walkway, avoiding any obstacle that came her way.

Her vision was getting fuzzy but she didn't dare stop. Not even when her lungs felt like they were on fire. She needed to find Damon.

He would be able to calm her down or maybe help her make sense of this all. He had been there for her many nights when her dreams of the pale elf weren't always pleasant but instead full of blood.

Once she finally saw, ' The Blade of Frontiers' flag come into her view, she slowed down doing her best to catch her breath. Last thing she needed to do was rush into a room of the frontiers and have Damon scold her for causing a scene at his job.

Feeling her vision slowly come back to her, and her lungs no longer straining for air, she decided to finally make her way inside the glorified castle.

Once belonging the Wyll, leader of the frontiers. But now was just a training ground for anyone who thought they were worthy of the title or just wanted to gloat they were part of it. Her eyes scanned the stone statue of Wyll that stood in the middle of the courtyard. It's definitely was always a site to see. A human who was cursed with the features of a devil. The story was simple, he made a deal with a devil to protect his home and everyone in it leaving him with horns and the appearance of the thing he swore to fight against.

She gave the statue one last look before moving pass it and further into the courtyard trying to find the raven haired drow of hers.

Normally he would be out here practicing his battle techniques but she didn't see him only a few random people who seemed to practing some spells. She continued to scan the area, stopping once she saw a red haired elf, who seemed to be taking a break and took the opportunity to ask for their assistance.

"I'm so sorry to bother you, I'm looking for Damon. He has long black hair and a black out tattoo of flames on his neck." The red head seemed to think for a moment before pointing to the back area of the courtyard. "Him and a few others went to the garden for a break"

Prinxe thanked the other before moving in the direction she was pointed. A smile formed on her face as she moved through the archway and immediately noticed Damon in the distance. He was sitting on the ground with a few other frontier members, who were snacking on some fruit and bread. She vaguely knew some of the guys he sat with, noticing them from her school days and outings that he took her too. She picked up her pace moving through the trees and closer to the group, about to call out to him. "D-" His name got caught in her throat as she tuned into the conversation they were having.

"If she's so crazy why don't you just break up with her?" A silver haired tiefling asked, in-between his bites. There was no way they were talking about her

"I thought she would grow out of it but this morning I found her at the dinning table drawing him again." Damon's voice joined in, full of absolute annoyance, making her chest tighten as she moved herself behind one of the many trees that covered the garden. Even though she wanted to walk right out the way she came, she also needed to hear what they were saying. What he was saying.

"Normally it's just his face or something but this time she drew herself in the picture." There was no ounce of love in his voice as he spoke, just hatred. "She's totally obsessed with this make believe guy and it's honestly creepy." He continued to speak, another random guy joining in.

"Then why not dump her? You already know Serena has been dying to go out with you since she joined."

A chuckle escaped Damon's lips as he drank his water. "Honestly, if the sex wasn't so good I would have left her ages ago."

Tears welted in her eyes as she watched the group laugh at her not even aware that she was merely feet away. Wiping her tears away, she balled her hands into fists ready to confront him and leave him with the biggest black eye.

"UMBRA"

Suddenly the area was covered in complete darkness, and all she could hear was Damon and the others voices in confusion. Someone had casted a darkness spell.

Even with her elf abilities, they were no match for a spell like this. All she could do was move her hands back to the tree, and try to focus on her surroundings but was it useless.

The sounds of someone being beaten could be heard throughout the darkness and the group began to shout for backup. "WE ARE UNDER ATTACK!" With those few words, the courtyard filled with shouting and the loud sound of people running towards them could be heard.

She began to realize how serious the situation was and how she was in the middle of a soon to be battle. She was about to call out for help, only to be silenced by someone's hand. "Hello, you~"

Even though she couldn't see him, she immediately knew it was the pale elf. "Not a sound..." He whispered to her, his hand not moving from its place on her mouth until she agreed, which she did. Slowly nodding her head allowing his hand to make its way to hers, gently gripping it as he pulled her out of the darkness.

The pair slowly sneaked passed the guards, who seemed more focus on supporting Damon and the others that they hadn't notice them. Once they were far away from the building and tucked away in a nearby ally did she finally realize this was real.

The pale elf, she'd been dreaming and drawing since she was a child was right next to her and all she could do was get lost in his appearance. His clothing was more of this time period than what she saw in her dreams but it still suited him. His outfit was giving off aristocrat, sporting off a red vest that had black embroidery on it, a black dress shirt underneath it and similar color pants. He gave one last look of the area before turning to her smiling as if nothing had happened.

Before he had the chance to speak, she noticed the blood on the hand that held hers. It suddenly clicked in her head, the culprit of the spell was right in front of her. “Wait you're the one who casted darkness?”

A chuckled escaped from his lips. “Of course darling, I couldn’t just waltz right in there to grab you.” He said, pulling a handkerchief from his pants pockets, and wiping the blood away from his hand. “I know my appearance has changed over the centuries but I never excepted you to run off from me" He teased, his lips forming into that oh so familiar smirk which immediately made her stomach flutter.

Without thinking the words, “Who are you?” came out of her mouth, immediately making the pale elf look at her confused as if she had asked him the most strangest question

“My name is Astarion.” He answered, pulling her notepad out from his jacket and handing it to her. “I assumed you remembered who I was since I seem to still be your muse”

She took the notepad from him trying to focus on her words to reply but it felt like her body wasn’t her own. Her head was pounding and it felt like it was going to explode. Hearing his name felt like part of a missing piece had been found but it was as if her brain couldn’t process it or didn’t want too. The man she had only ever called, “the pale elf” now had an actual name and it was Astarion.

Her vision got hazy as she leaned against the ally wall trying to focus on the man in front of her. He appeared to be talking to her but she heard no words. She squeezed her eyes shut trying to make the pounding sensation stop but it just grew making her fall to her knees.

As quickly as the sensation came it stopped. Opening her eyes expecting him to still be standing there but everything around was replaced with an opened forest area and the once busy streets of Balders Gate were replaced by the sound of nature. It was like she had stepped into the past and the only thing she recognized was Astarion voice which called out into the distance. "Hello! Can anyone help me!"

She sprinted off into the direction of his voice, passing by destroyed carriages, a dead body and a what appeared to be a brain with legs which somehow didn't surprise her. Everything felt like deja vu to her and it was making her wonder if she actually was crazy.

The flash of white hair appeared in the distance on a near by cliff giving her a faint feeling of relief. Astarion was near by and she needed to ask him what the hells was going on.

He stopped calling out once the bluenette approached him. "I corned one of those monsters over here. You can destroy them like you destroyed the others can't you?"

"Of course, move aside." The words came out of her like a script or something she had said before, moving past the other with a dagger in her hand ready to attack the creature. She watched as a boar ran out of the bushes and into the distance making her chuckle slightly.

"It's just a b-" Her words were cut short as Astarion pulled her to the ground, pressing a dagger to her throat. "Shhh...tell me what you know and I won't cut you open."

She glared at the other, smashing her forehead against his and rolling away to safety get up. "What the hell are you doing!" She shouted, watching as he got to his feet and pointed his dagger at her.

"I know you're in league with those tentacle freaks. I saw you walking around the ship." He shouted, almost dropping his dagger as he held his head, her's seeming to respond to it as well. It throbbed again but this time it felt more like a squirming sensation and she was looking out someone's else's eyes. The dark streets if Balders Gate and the fear of light. She was in his head.

Once the sensation faded away, did the two finally put away their weapons realizing the other wasn't an enemy. "Sorry about almost spilling your pretty guts on the ground. I am Astarion." He said, giving her a slight bow as he waited for her to respond.

But she was unable too. Everything started to disappear in front of her and she realized this was one of her dreams, only it was one she never had before.

~

Her eyes fluttered open half expecting to see the surroundings of her room but instead all she saw black and red lace of a canopy bed above her.

This wasn't her room.

She quickly laid up, immediately regretting it as she felt her head ache in response to the shift in position. Pushing through the pain, she began to take in the room, which was far from anything she had seen let alone been in. It made her feel like she was in the house of royalty.

The large room had a very distinct style and color scheme. Everything was covered in black and reds joined together in a very classic victorian goth aura, which seemed to go along with the use of candles that light the room.

She moved herself out of the large queen sized bed, eyeing the nightstand which seemed to have something waiting for her. A cup of water and aspirin. It probably wasn't the best decision to take it but her head was killing her and she needed some relief. Taking the pills in her hand and quickly washing them down with the water.

After a few minutes, she fully stood up, moving over to one of the nearby windows to get a better idea of where she was. They were currently covered by massive curtains which she found a bit odd seeing as most people took in all the natural light they could but she wasn't one to judge. Her eyes scanned the curtains looking for its usual rope friend that allowed you to pull it open, spotting it on the other side tied to what appeared to be an unused candelabra.

Her fingers fiddled with the rope for a moment but eventually undid the knot, pulling the rope to allow the large curtains to open up to her and revealing a not so familiar area.

She had expected the find the sun leaking into the room but instead all she saw was hues of blue, darkness and in the distant a large tree with white glowing leaves on it. This definitely wasn't Balders Gate.

Her attention moved away from the window, hearing the faint sound of arguing and it peaked her interest. She was already in a strange home and whoever brought her here was bound to be where the noise was coming from.

She slowly made her way over to the large oak doors, pushing them open and taking in the long hallway it lead into. All the windows were covered by the similar curtains in the bedroom and what she assumed were portraits had also been covered in black cloth. Whoever lived here didn't want the outside world in it.

The hallway had two ways to go, left and right. Not wanting to get lost, she focused on the voices she hard earlier trying to sense what direction they were coming from.

It seems the walls helped echo the noise. It seemed to be coming from the left side of the hallway and she quickly but quietly made her way down it. As she got closer, she could hear the conversation better, doing her best to keep her footsteps quiet especially when she needed to move down the staircase.

"What do you mean you just brought her here!" One shouted

"What was I supposed to do! She passed out in front of me and I couldn't just leave her in an ally." She knew this voice. It was Astarion and it seemed like he was arguing with someone.

"We don't even know if it's her. She could just look her." The unknown male shouted back.

"Gale, it has to be her. You've seen the drawings. Only Prinxe would have known about those moments." Astarion replied, the faint sound of what she assumed was her notepad hitting a table.

She slowly moved further down the stairs, stopping once she made it to the opening of the room the two were in. They seemed to be referring to her and she needed to know why.

"You know it's not polite to sneak around someone's home" A feminine voice said.

Prinxe froze in place, looking down at her feet and noticing a winged feline creature was watching her every movement.

All she could do in response was scream

Sorry for the super long post but wanted to introduce our ever so familiar Gale and make things more interesting!

[worfs-glorious-hair]

Pt. 3 Children of the kindly west (Kíli x Reader) — A tale of two dwarven hearts

This is a translation, more of a re-write, of a fanfiction I wrote first in German during 2013 - 2015 when the Hobbit movies premiered and I was just as obsessed and enamored by that adorable prince like everyone else. And reading the Silmarillion for the first time this year in February brought me back to middle-earth and reminded me of my love of dwarves. And this brings me here today. Enjoy! Cross-posted on AO3 here. P.S. Feel free to tell me if any warnings or tags are missing. And if you want to be tagged in future parts! <3

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 *coming soon*

Warnings: Mutual Thirsting/ Pining, mentions of a naked female body under a nightgown, mentions of breasts, some sexual and romantic tension

New Friends

„Do you like Kíli?“, Syniver asked with an innocent face.

„I really like him!“, she continued. „He is so tall and funny!“

She laughed and rolled over a small sofa in the corner of the kitchen, standing up and giving an impression of Kíli when he huffed and rested his hands on his hips, when he was about to loose a game.

You smiled. You smiled about how wonderful your sister was and how much fun she was having.

But her question continued to linger in your mind, did you like Kíli?

Was one afternoon, one evening enough to say whether you liked your old acquaintance more than you had before? 

It probably was enough. You had not laughed as much in a long time, spending time with him felt natural and easy and you wanted more. 

More of him! You wanted to get to know the man he had become. The man whose eyes sparkled from within!

You met him again on the next day, when he came by to bring some knitted work that his mother had done for Syniver and your mother invited him to stay for an early tea.

And a few days after that you took the long route to the market, that led by the house of his family, hoping that you would see him. And you were lucky, he was outside shoveling snow from the pathway — you smiled at him and waved. He waved back with an excited grin and something deep inside you felt full and warm. 

You stopped to talk with him and he offered to accompany you again.

„But don’t you need to finish shoveling here?“, you had asked and he had just shrugged. 

„I’ll finish it later, or Fíli will do it. Or it snows more and then I have to do it again anyways.“

„Alright“, you had agreed and had taken his arm that he had offered you once again

„And besides“, he had added with the sparkle in his eyes that you had started to always look out for, „ I prefer your company over the shovel’s anytime!“

„I am glad to hear that I am more pleasant to be around than a shovel“, you had laughed but it had died in your throat as you had caught Kíli’s eyes on you and somehow you had gotten tangled up in them.

You had eventually torn your eyes away from his, missing the quick flash of confusion, as you had looked away and got out your shopping list from your pocket, ignoring the way your hands had trembled.

You were woken up by the repeated and unrelenting calling of your name a few days after your last day with Kíli.

You groaned, turned to the side and hoped that Syniver would be quiet soon, if she would not get an answer from you and your closed door.

Speaking of your closed door, you heard muffled voices on the hallway and a half-awake part of your brain chose to listen to them as you caught your name being said.

„Oh yes, she’s here. She’s maybe still sleeping. You can just go in!“, Syniver cheerfully explained and a horrified male voice answered.

„I can not go in there. I will not disturb her privacy!“

Kíli!

„Oh, why?“, asked Syniver’s voice confused and you thought the same.

‚Yes, why would he not come in’, the half-asleep part of your brain wondered, having him here with you would be heavenly, you could breathe in his musky scent of leather, pine trees, smoke and horse and it would surround you completely…

He would surround you completely.

Kíli’s voice sighed and then he answered.

„Just family can go to someone when they are sleeping, I am just a…“ He paused and you felt your heart hammering in your chest, what would he say now? What was he?

„I am merely a friend!“, he said slowly.

Just a friend.

What did you expect would he say?

Sighing, you threw your head back deeper into your pillows and opened your eyes.

Taking in the light of the day that filled your chamber you decided that you were awake now and got out of your bed. You turned to look for your dress that you had laid over a chair the night before.

And then your door opened. Syniver stood there and looked pleased with herself.

„See, she’s not sleeping anymore!“, she exclaimed loudly over her shoulder to Kíli, who stood behind her with a mortified look on his face.

The two of you stared at each other, mouth open and you felt the heat rise in your cheeks and saw how his cheeks reddened as well.

The heavy up and down of your chest brought you back to reality and you stumbled over your feet in an attempt to find something, anything to cover yourself with. You grabbed your dress from the chair and pressed it to your front.

Kíli had moved in the same time as you had come back to your senses, stuttering apologies over and over again and fled from the hallway, you heard his panicked steps on the stairs.

„Can you not knock?“, you asked Syniver over your heavy beating heart with more anger than she deserved.

„This was embarrassing!“, you sank back down onto your bed, resting your head against the bed post, suddenly exhausted, the dress still pressed to your body, that felt uncomfortably hot and aware of the fabric of your nightgown on your skin. You wore a simple white nightgown made from a light, fine fabric that could be quite translucent — oh Mahal, what had he seen?

He was never supposed to see you like this, hair open and unkempt, barely a braid in it and nearly naked. He was a prince after all! And he had offered you his company and his friendship, he had offered you his brilliant grin and sparkling eyes. 

You wanted nothing but to be worthy of his kindness and friendship, you had to be your best self! 

And this was barely your best self, just right out of bed! You groaned and looked at Syniver with pained eyes, who stood confused by your side and wondered why you and Kíli were acting so strange.

While you got dressed and tried to explain to Syniver why knocking is of importance and why you cherished your privacy, was Kíli running out of your house and straight to his. He spoke with nobody on his way, thankfully was no one home when he arrived, and gathered his bow and arrow together with his hunting gear and fled to the woods.

He went by foot, needing to run, needing to move, needing to get the image of you out of his head.

You bathed in sunlight, hair flowing freely over your shoulders, just a few little braids with golden beads on the ends sprinkled through it, cheeks and lips rosy and fresh from sleep —

You standing against the golden sunlight that made the fabric of your nightgown so sheer, that he could see the voluptuous contours of your breasts and the lush outlines of your waist, full belly and hips…

You staring at him with big surprised eyes, lips slightly parted, chest heaving, breasts moving with each breath under your nightgown.

And he had stared, he could not take his eyes away from you and your body, he should have looked away! He should have stopped Syniver when she opened the door!

He did not deserve to see you like this, fresh after the night, glowing like one of the goddesses of old that he had heard so many stories about. 

Who was he anyways? Just the second-born prince of a kingdom he did not even knew, he spat out this title in disgust, even in thoughts. 

And he was so oddly lean, too lean for a respectable dwarven warrior, his hair was too straight and he seemed to be unable to grow a beard.

People had mocked him, they have cackled behind their hands pressed over their mouths for all of his life. 

And amidst everything was you, beautiful, cheerful and well-spoken you.

You, whose eyes and face were kind to him, he felt seen in your gaze. In the best way possible.

When you smiled at him, laughing at one of your own jokes or his, when you two chatted away was he finally feeling like he could just be. 

He felt like he was enough, let the people talk, when he had your smile and your warmth next to him.

You had knocked him off his feet, literally.

Which was surprising and unexpected. He had barely given you a second thought in the past, the daughter of his mother’s best friend. Tiny and always behind him, his brother and other children. You had played together, spending more time arguing about a game than actually playing it. 

But you had found ways to arrange yourself and your games and still, he had never looked twice. You were just there. Until now. 

When your worlds had collided and were joined again by impact.

Oh Mahal, he slowed down his running and sighed, what have you done to me?

Later on the same day were you working in the kitchen, making a fresh batch of bread, and hitting the dough more than kneading it. 

You were still embarrassed about what had happened in the morning, still unsure on how to continue and you did not even knew why he had come to you in the first place.

A knock on the door made you pause in beating up the dough and you wiped your hands clean from flour on your apron while yelling “coming” towards the door.

You went to open the door and it was Kíli’s remorseful face greeting you with a shaky grin.

“Hello”, he whispered with a hoarse voice.

His eyes barely sparkled anymore, you noticed with a growing concern.

Was he not feeling well?

“Can I come in? I have brought you, I mean not you, you, I mean you and your family of course, some rabbits that I have freshly hunted today…”

And indeed, he had five already skinned rabbits hanging over his shoulder.

You smiled carefully and nodded.

“Of course! You are always welcome here!”

He breathed out in relief and his steps got his usual bounce back as he strode confidently into the kitchen.

And when he turned to you were his eyes sparkling again! You grinned, happy at the sight.

He gave you the rabbits and told you that he had already gutted them. 

“They are ready for cooking or smoking!”

“Excellent!”, you answered. 

“Mother will decide later on what will happen to them, my responsibility today is only the bread”, you nodded towards your kitchen’s worktop where still the bread dough rested. He followed your look. 

He kept his eyes on the dough and said quietly: “Can I talk to you? I have to apologise for my behavior today…”

He still was not looking at you.

“Of course…”, you nodded and got up to put away the rabbits into the cold storage room under your kitchen.

“Will you help me with these?”, you nodded towards the rabbits while climbing down the ladder into the storage room.

Kíli got up as well, without saying a word and handed you two rabbits at a time.

After he had given you the first pair he started speaking.

“I am awfully sorry for my disturbance in your privacy earlier! I should have never looked into your private chambers, Syniver had told me that you were still sleeping… I should have left right there.

It will never happen again!”, he said, voice coated with remorse and pain, while handing you the next two rabbits and you stored them carefully away.

“I have already forgiven you”, you answered after a quick minute, where you had gathered your thoughts.

“It was a stupid accident! And also quite hilarious, if you think about it. As if any visitor sees the people in a house in their night wear…”, you laughed and Kíli gave you the last rabbit and smiled slightly in an attempt to answer your laughter.

“Why did you come by anyways?”, you asked, as you climbed the ladder up again.

“Oh, I was just wanting to ask – CAREFUL!”, he suddenly yelled, as your foot slipped from

the last step of the ladder as you had stepped accidentally onto the hem of your dress. 

He grabbed you by the arm and you cling onto  him instinctively and he helped you carefully back onto the safe ground of the kitchen floor.

Your eyes got tangled into each other once again as he still held you close to him. 

*You were already standing safely back on the ground but neither of you moved, the two of you were not even blinking!

You breathed out and smiled at him, breaking the spell. He instantly released your arm and made a quick step back from you.

“Thank you – for saving me. This could have gone very differently without you…”, you shuddered as you looked down the ladder onto the dark, solid ground.

“We’re square now”, he answered with his usual grin. Everything was fine again.

“You ran into, well over, me and most certainly saved me from eventually doing something stupid that day on the market in regards to Fíli’s lover and now I saved you. We’re even!”

“I am glad”, you said. 

“You were just about to tell why you came by this morning…”, you reminded him.

“Oh yes, I wanted to ask you if you wanted to spend the day with me, hunting, riding in the forest…”, he looked at you with hopeful eyes and your heart melted instantly.

“Can we still do that? This sounds lovely!”

“If you want to, there’s still enough daylight left for a short trip. I know a lovely little pond, it is frozen now of course, but it is beautiful with frozen waterfalls…”, Kíli’s eyes sparkled and sparkled and your heart was full and happy. You wanted to ride through the forest by his side, you wanted to see the beautiful little pond, you wanted to see the world through his eyes!

You wanted to get to know his world!

And so you did.

Today’s ride through the forrest would be the first of many more to come.

He showed you hidden places, full of beauty and wonder. He showed you, where the rare white deer grazed during the winter months and you spent hours watching them from deep within the undergrowth of big, old trees.

„Some say“, he told you one day, „that these trees are older than the elves in middle-earth…“

You cocked your head to the side and looked at the gigantic trees around you, covered in all kinds of evergreens, moss and dead looking climbing plants — you knew that they would become lush and green soon enough when spring would arrive.

The trees were old, sturdy and had a rough bark that protected them from the seasons and weathers and apparently time.

„What they must have seen in all of these ages…“, you wondered and caught Kíli looking at you from the side.

You smiled at him, it was an instinct, you could not not smile when you saw or just thought of him,  and his eyes sparkled, when he returned your smile.

„The most extraordinary wonders“, he answered solemnly and kept looking at you and his smile lit a fire of gold and brown in his eyes, like a fragrant late summer day over freshly dug soil. 

You wanted to keep the happiness that radiated off of him in your life and your heart forever, it made you feel whole.

Of course, you were your own person but with him by your side, it felt like your life had doubled. 

Everything had intensified over the span of the days and weeks since Kíli had come back into your life.

He gave you so much. So much laughter, so much joy, he filled your heart and soul with warmth and let your insides tingle pleasantly.

His smile, his slightly curved pink lips, his sparkling eyes, his strong hands, his skillful fingers that flitted over the neck of his fiddle when he played his happy melodies…

He was all of this and more and you had started to wonder how you were ever able to live without the light he brought.

It was one of the evenings that you had spent with him in front of the fireplace in the welcoming living room of his family’s house — he and Fíli had played their fiddles and you had danced to their tunes, you had hummed along, happy songs about the most beloved treasures, of rare gems and of girls and boys flirting and dancing at their town’s festivals.

You had pressed your favorite book, that you had read to the brothers before, to your chest, taking it as your dance partner and swirled around the room, laughing and swinging…

But your eyes never left Kíli. You kept your eyes on him for the whole time.

You admired how he used his whole body to play his fiddle, how he moved along to the music, how his arms moved when he played, how he kept his full body tension —

pressing his chin gently to his fiddle to keep it stable on his shoulder and how his bow in his right hand danced confidently over the strings all while the fingers of his left hand bounced masterfully over the fiddle’s neck…

He was otherworldly beautiful, like a mythical creature from another realm, his dark hair in contrast to his sky blue tunic, his cheeks reddened from playing and laughing in the warmth of the fire in the room and always his eyes.

Sparkling. Fixed on you. Smiling slightly, as much as his play allowed.

And you danced, danced with your happiness and joy. Danced with a full heart and a soul that felt complete.

In the night that followed you saw yourself dancing in your dreams, your skirts twirled around you and you laughed.  The You that you observed looked directly at you and you saw her smile so brightly, so beautifully.

Your face rosy and a few strands of hair were sticking to the sides of your face, where sweat glittered in the light of the fire.

You were beautiful. Any doubt that you ever had about yourself faded as you observed your dream self.

She was glowing. She was everything. 

And you knew, even after waking, that she was not a creation of your mind, she was you and you were her.

Kíli saw himself this night in his dreams as well.

He saw himself like you had seen him. Beautiful, ethereal and worthy of your admiration.

He did not saw the little boy in the shadow of his brother and uncle, who was always trying to prove himself to them and the world. He saw a man, strong, capable and enough, even handsome, just like he was. And for the blessed moments that his dream lasted, he accepted your vision fully.

He just did not know that it was your eyes he had seen himself through.

Just like you did not know that you had seen yourself through his eyes.

Efís had stopped talking and the children all looked up to her with big eyes, questions flashing up behind their eyes.

“Why were they dreaming of themselves? Don’t you usually dream of other people and not about yourself?”, one of the older girls asked.

“Oh well”, Efís smiled slightly, her eyes fixing at a far point over the fire place, while she thought of her answer.

“There are stories, stories of old, that tell of bound, fated souls, souls tied together by Mahal himself, when He created them. 

Kíli and who was merely just his childhood acquaintance once were always destined to be more than friends or lovers. I believe firmly that their souls were promised to each other by Mahal, just like in the old stories . I believe they were the One for each other.

And the old stories also say that people, whose souls were were bound together in the moment of their creation, were able to see through the eyes of the beloved. Especially in dreams. 

They caught a glimpse of their own soul and it inspired them, healed them, nourished them and made the love in their hearts burn even brighter than before. If it ever was possible.

But the pair in our story, though fated, was not yet aware that it was love that was growing quickly and rapidly in their hearts.

But it would change very soon.

On a fateful day in the deep winter, when Fíli celebrated his 81st birthday Kíli and his One were both met with a burning desire for each other— and burning jealousy. But before I tell you about their hearts matters, do you want more cookies?”

The children screamed in joy and nodded ferociously.

“Very well then, dears, let me get the next platter!”

Efís laughed contently on her way to the kitchen, she was happy that the children, who came to visit her, shared her love for wonderful baked goods and the stories of old. This way was she making sure that the heritage of their people, stories, songs, everything that made their culture so rich, would be passed on for generations to come.

She continued speaking, after she was seated again and the children happily produced cookie crumbs on her carpet and the room was once again filled with eating children, their breathing, their sniffling and the crackling of the fire.

[faneliansficaloh]

A Lifetime of Happiness

(Chapter 1) (Chapter 2) (Chapter 3) (Chapter 4) (Chapter 5)

This is Chapter 6

Notes

----------

18 November 1817

Dear Penelope,

We have a very small garden in the back of the house. There is a variety of plants in there but, seen as I am no botanist, I am not able to identify them all. I have been pressed by Oliver, though, as he seems to have a very keen interest in nature and wants to know the names for every living thing in the world, Amy just wants to know the names of the flowers. Sir Phillip is of course to blame for this interest, as he gifted them books with plant illustrations last year, which they seem to have re-discovered now.

It turns out we have a food garden. One of the trees produces an odd fruit, shaped like a pear but has a thick, rough skin. I am told that when it’s ripe the innards can be mashed into a type of paste that is supposed to be good, but I cannot fathom how such a thing can be edible at all. There are also potatoes, peppers and, of course, tomatoes.

You must see that I now shall endeavour to ensure we get the best crop of tomatoes possible, it is only right.

Yours, Colin.

1814 – A kind of fear.

The all important night of the ball had come and they were all gathered in the ballroom, exquisitely decorated with the most beautiful flowers, for it was expected to be the backdrop for the Viscount Bridgerton’s betrothal to his intended, since no proposal had been made in the previous days since the Sharmas had arrived. Clearly no effort or expense had been spared as it showed in every single, exquisite detail.

Colin was surveying the room, when his eyes found Penelope. She was standing next to Eloise, as expected, talking rather animatedly. He smiled – Eloise was probably complaining about something, and Penelope would gently tease her about it. He couldn’t stop noticing that Penelope looked rather pleasant in her pink dress.

He had always known Penelope was not entirely unappealing. Even though most of the time the way she dressed and wore her hair were odd choices that didn’t help advertise it, he had always thought there was something pleasing in her large blue eyes. But that night her hair was a little different, and the colour and cut of the dress made her look rather fetching. It was an odd, almost disturbing thought, so he averted his gaze immediately. She was his little sister’s friend, so he shouldn’t be going back to look at her again and noticing how she had distractedly bit her lip in a most alluring way. He took a sip from his drink and directed his full attention to his wife.

Sir Phillip arrived with the full determination of only making an appearance and returning home as soon as possible. He had used a carriage this time, he would not be detained again. He was not even sure why he had chosen to attend. He told himself, of course, that he was merely returning the attentions he received the night of the storm. Lady Bridgerton had been most gracious and it had been far too long ongoing that the Cranes kept slighting the Bridgerton’s invitations to what seemed to be an annual event. As Sir Phillip made his way into the ballroom, looking for one of the many faces he had been introduced to just days prior, he noticed the young ladies he had conversed with during dinner, so he walked in their direction.

Penelope noticed him and told Eloise “Looks like Sir Phillip decided to accept your mother’s invitation after all”

Eloise turned to look in the direction of Penelope’s nod “Oh no, no, why is he coming towards us?”

“Maybe he wants to ask you for a dance?” Penelope teased her friend, making her wince. “Oh, Eloise, you have to admit he is rather interesting. Odd mannered, perhaps, but interesting. And he has read the books you keep talking so much about, you may have a suitable partner for meaningful conversation, as you’ve so often put it”

“I hardly think a ballroom is the place to discuss such matters, Penelope” Eloise scoffed at the prospect.

“Good evening, Miss Featherington, Miss Bridgerton”

“Sir Phillip, good evening. I am glad you decided to join us” Penelope greeted him.

“I surprised myself, to be honest, but I thought I should not keep slighting Lady Bridgerton any longer, after all of the kindness I received the other night. It is however a much larger gathering that I expected and I am yet to find her to pay my respects”

“Well, she’s not far off, I’m sure” Said Eloise “She never is far from me at these things”

“Miss Featherington, is that Miss Thompson, I mean, Mrs Bridgerton, standing beside Mr. Bridgerton?” He asked Penelope, who had to stand on her toes and extend her neck a bit to see over the crowd to where he was indicating.

“It is, indeed” It might be best to keep Sir Phillip away from her. Where were the more social Bridgertons when you needed them? Eloise was certainly not to be depended on for a situation as this. But she did not have to wait for long, because just as Eloise had predicted, along came Lady Bridgerton with a potential suitor for Eloise in tow.

“Sir Phillip! I’m so delighted you decided to join us!”

“Lady Bridgerton, it is my honour. You have designed a most charming evening”

“Allow me to introduce you, Lord Morrison. This is my daughter Miss Eloise Bridgerton, Miss Penelope Featherington and Sir Phillip Crane”

“An honour to make your acquaintance, ladies. Crane, it’s good to see you after so long!”

“How do you do, Morrison” Sir Phillip was courteous but not very welcoming of the other man.

“Have you met before?” Asked Violet with a surprised smile.

“We coincided briefly at Cambridge” Sir Phillip clasped his hands behind his back and his posture stiffened, which Penelope noticed as a sign of discomfort with the other man.

“Miss Eloise, would you do me the honour?” Eloise clearly panicked but she had been trapped and reluctantly joined Lord Morrison for a dance.

Violet then smiled pleased and cast a significant glance at Sir Phillip, directing him to Penelope. She didn’t have to actually say anything.

“Miss Featherington, would you like to dance as well?”

“You don’t have to – I mean, of course!” She had tried to spare Sir Phillip additional discomfort as it was glaringly apparent he did not really wish to dance at all, but corrected herself after receiving a mortal glance from their hostess.

“So, I take it you and Lord Morrison are not friends?” She asked once they were on the dance floor.

“Oh, absolutely not. In fact, I should warn you to stay away from him, Miss Featherington. I cannot disclose my reasons, but I hope you can trust me, even if we haven’t been acquainted for long”

“I assure you I am in no danger, Sir Phillip, but I appreciate your concern” She found it endearing that he would think it necessary to warn her, as if Lord Morrison – or anyone – would ever set their sights on her.

“I see you are very discerning” Did he really think it was a matter of her choosing to stay away from the man and not the other way around? Did he really think her attractive enough? “but what about your friend?” He said, trying to see the other couple.

“I will relay your warning as soon as I have an opportunity... but I don’t think it will be necessary at all” She said as she saw Eloise abruptly leaving the man in the middle of the dance floor, causing a scene.

Violet seemed rattled over the incident, so Colin went to her, with Marina following close behind him. He was worried for his sister as he saw her leave the ballroom “Is Eloise alright?”

“Yes. I just seem to have miscalculated” Violet’s face was still red as Eloise had clearly upset her, which Colin could not tolerate.

“I’ll go talk to her” He moved towards the stairs to go after his sister, but his mother stopped him.

“Let her be, I think she wants to be alone right now. I do not want her to feel under attack”

“Very well.” He decided he would stay near his mother in the meantime, but would have to talk to Eloise later. He loved his sister, but she had a tendency to overlook the needs and feelings of others, her own emotions barrelling through everyone else’s.

“Who was that man, that Eloise was dancing with?” asked Marina “I couldn’t see him, he got away so quickly”

“Lord Morrison” answered Violet, still mortified

“Oh! I’m glad for her, then” Violet’s eyes opened wide

“What do you mean, dear?”

“He’s not a good man, Lady Bridgerton. One of the maids at Romney Hall” Marina gave her a significant look and knew no more needed to be said.

“Good heavens! That explains why Sir Phillip was not pleased to see him” She looked around as if trying to make sure the man was gone for good.

“Sir Phillip is here?” Colin was equally surprised as his wife.

“Yes, he is. He is dancing with Penelope now as a matter of fact” This seemed to shift her mood almost immediately, but his Mother’s pleased and almost mischievous smile did not sit well with him.

“Wonderful!” Said Marina, rather sarcastically. “Now we’ll truly never get rid of him”

“It is just one dance, you exaggerate” Colin noted.

“Hmm We’ll see” Violet declared.

“I’ve danced with her many times, it doesn’t mean anything” Violet stiffened almost imperceptibly upon hearing that.

“But you’re a married man. He is not” Marina was almost laughing.

“Oh dear!” Violet whispered with a little nervous laugh and almost imperceptibly rolled her eyes and made a quick but graceful exit after muttering “Excuse me”. It was almost painful how oblivious all her children were in matters of the heart.

“He is not looking to marry anytime soon, he told me as much” He said, trying to put the matter to rest.

“Perhaps that may change, what if he falls in love?” Marina insisted.

He felt oddly disturbed, a kind of fear crept inside him, at the prospect of Sir Phillip falling in love with Penelope “You are right, he might.” He couldn’t find a single reason why he wouldn’t. Penelope was, after all, very loveable.

Chapter 7

[lizard-shifter-noms]

Still Subject to Change Chapter 29 (NEW)

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Hello everyone! i decided to repost arc 1 of SSTC

(the chapters were way too long and had a bunch of typos but hopefully this will make reading easier)

this Story contains Vore, Dont like dont read.

if there are still any grammatical errors i’m sorry.

——————————————————————————

Barsen could probably waltz into any room of the castle and nobody would deem him a threat.

Because he wasn't one, He was just the gardener and tended to all plants here, including the ones inside the castle even if those were just potted flowers and the like.

“Say how do you like the celebration party?

They throw one any chance they get so after a while its just boring”

He was probably right, being at a party was fun but at some point it was enough, also i was pretty sure the music had gotten even louder.

Looking over I was pretty sure some of the musicians were slightly inebriated.

“Well i liked the long yellow fruit”

It had been tasty, and cinnamon bread was something I already knew.

“The Banana?”

That surely wasn’t its name, was it?

“That’s what it’s called? Really?”

“Really, they grow on palm trees in bundles like grapes”

I just stared at him, I didn’t think he was making stuff up as he took his job seriously but at the same time the yellow fruit got more ridiculous by the minute.

Well he’d know better than me, I was no expert on plants.

But if they did grow on palm trees it was no wonder I had never seen one before, palm trees were more tropical plants as far as i knew.

Why was I thinking about the semantics of a damn plant anyway?

Man, my brain felt slightly foggy.

Maybe one of the many treats I ate contained some alcohol after all.

Also it was loud as fuck in here and stupidly warm too.

I’d get some fresh air after I found Rikaad.

Where was he anyway?

“Hey, have you seen Rikaad? Uh i mean the new King, I wanted to talk to him”

He was probably still guilty about the stabbing thing so I wanted to let him know that Oakley fixed it.

“Hmm, well i saw him last in the corner with the big punch bowl, i’m not entirely sure how coherent you’ll meet him though”

Eh, good enough, and knowing him he wouldn’t have had too many drinks.

“Really? Thank you! I’ll head over then, see you around”

He waved and went back to, well whatever he was doing before.

So Rikaad was in one of the corners that had a big bowl.

There were only four corners so that technically shouldn't take that long.

And one of the corners was occupied by the musicians that somehow managed to get even louder to cover the happy and drunk howling of some of the guests.

So that left three other corners to check.

And only two of them contained tables, so I only had to go through half the room.

Walking to the corner that was closest meant I wouldn’t have to walk through much of a crowd, a crowd that had gotten increasingly drunk over the course of the late evening.

Not the most pleasant company to be honest, but I bore it and did my best to avoid any sort of smalltalk from the inebriated patrons.

Weaving through the people was at least something I was already familiar with from my time on the street so I managed to not bump into anyone till I reached the corner.

No Rikaad here, hmm, but there was a plate of more cinnamon bread.

Yoinking one I went back to weaving through the crowd to get to the other corner while munching on the tasty bread.

hopefully Rikaad was still there and hadn’t left for some other table.

Oh wait, there he was, talking to Norrin who was pouring himself some of the punch with a ladle that looked way too fancy for my tastes.

Norrin just waved and gave a thumbs up as he saw me and I noticed that his face was slightly flushed pink, he’d had some of the punch for sure.

Whatever, it surely wasn’t bad if he still managed to hold a conversation.

Rikaad shoved his cup away, a cup that I was pretty sure contained alcohol that he didn’t want to drink judging by the face he’d made when he looked at it.

“Hello Donovan, how do you like the music?”

Back to smalltalk huh, not exactly my favorite part of a conversation.

Well, Norrin was here and until he left neither of us could talk about what we actually wanted.

“I think it’s Loud, like a bit too much so, but i’m gonna go outside later anyway”

The obnoxious music certainly wasn’t helping my brain defog and some fresh air would be nice.

At least the musicians could actually play the instruments, and where some of the better ones I’d heard.

Thankfully Norrin decided to leave at that moment.

“Maybe I can ask them to tune it down? I’ll be back in a bit”

He went up to the opposite corner to try and talk to the musicians.

I immediately turned back to Rikaad after making sure nobody else was within earshot.

“Uhh, well, about the stabbing thing;

Oakley managed to help me so it’s all good now, he used some magic paste or whatever it was so the stitches are gone too”

I didn’t tell him that Oakley had to rip them out, he didn’t need to know and besides it was good now, no pain no wound just like before.

Beides, hearing that what he had done in an effort to help me turned out to be dangerous just because he used the wrong items wouldn’t help.

Even if it had hurt as hell when they got ripped out.

I could see him slightly untense at the information and I hoped he would stop feeling so guilty about it.

“So you are okay now? No lasting damage?”

I nodded my head at his questions.

“No, I’m good, don’t worry, I just wanted to tell you that I’m fine now so you can stop dwelling on it.

Now you have fun at this party, i’m going outside for some fresh air, It's way too loud in here and the temperature is not helping my brain to stay focused and i wanna leave before i do something dumb or embarrassing”

“Your face does look a bit pink, just make sure you don’t fall of the cliff and avoid any Guards you don’t know, i’m not sure if everyone has gotten the information yet that you are a friend”

I nodded at him, I had planned to go back into the Ardua form and sleep on the rock Barsen showed us anyway, Since the shed was still a bit dusty and I had no idea how to navigate the castle, Nevermind that I had no idea which rooms were occupied and which ones were free.

As for falling off the cliff, I wasn’t THAT stupid and the atmosphere here was still somewhat tolerable for me, It literally was just a tiny bit too warm and loud that put a slight fog over my brain.

“I’m not that feeling that bad, it’s just a bit too loud and the air a bit too stale for my tastes, i’ll be fine, oh and if you see Robin tell him i’m back outside by the rock”

“of course, i’ll let him know should i see him”

At his affirmation that he’d tell Robin he saw me I left to go outside again.

As soon as the cool air hit my face I felt immediately better and the fog in my mind cleared.

After all, I was just a bit overwhelmed with that many people in one room, not to mention the overly loud music and way too many people heating up the room just by being there.

Eh, whatever, I already felt better and I wasn’t going to go back inside.

I decided that such events weren’t my thing. 

Aside from the tasty food, There wasn’t much to do anyway and I barely knew anyone.

Walking a few steps away from the castle so I was sure I wouldn’t bump into anything I twisted the gem on the bracelet and was promptly back in the Ardua form,

Shaking the stiffness out from my limbs.

Yeah, way better, and now i didn’t have to worry about anyone flipping out about my pointy ears.

By now word would have gotten around about the green beast that was friends with the king so this probably was the safer option to just hang around the castle as a whole.

There was also the fact that most people wouldn’t randomly attack something this big.

And the long legs were faster than my human form which was also a plus as I could get from the castle back to the rock in a matter of barely a minute.

By now it had gotten dark outside, it was still bright enough to find my way but I steered clear of anything I couldn’t identify.

At least the way back to the rock wasn’t that far and I made sure not to get too close to the edge as it probably was a lot more dangerous to get near in the dark.

Even if I found that I could see strangely well, but then again there was still light from the castle windows.

And the stars, they were actually very pretty even if the light from the castle made them a bit harder to see.

Just to be on the safe side I went to the spot where the boulder went under the dirt, so a good few feet away from the cliff itself.

I wasn’t keen on falling off of that should I fall asleep.

I’d end up impaled on one of those spikes, or drowning if the impact didn’t kill me.

No thanks, living is actually nice now.

Settling on the patch of grass next to the boulder I ended up staring out into the darkness for a bit.

This place was actually really pretty, the castle staff took good care of it even if the floorplan was absolutely moronic, like whose idea was it to build like this?

But so far the garden was my favorite place.

I briefly wondered if Barsen had any helpers or if he did it all by himself.

Surely not, he might be good but nobody could be everywhere at once, And just because I hadn’t seen anyone else working in the garden didn’t mean there was no one helping out.

At a sudden noise that sounded like a snapping branch I turned my head to whatever was disturbing the quiet that was here just a moment ago.

At first I saw nothing, which I attributed to suddenly looking at the light from the castle again, but then I could make out a human silhouette.

With the light coming from behind it was hard to tell who it was, especially since they were hunched over and seemed to have their hands over their ears.

The figure let out a high pitched whine and I suddenly recognized the voice, as well as the mop of red hair they possessed.

“Robin? Are you okay?”

I immediately stood up and went over to him to make sure he wasn’t hurt.

He was acting strange and only seemed to register that I was here after I spoke.

And he didn’t stop clutching his head.

I wished he’d step out of the bushes and into a brighter part so I could make sure he wasn’t bleeding.

“Donovan? I- i… what are you doing here?”

He sounded like hed been crying, oh fuck what happened?

I hadn’t been gone that long so what was going on?

I kneeled down, or at least what was the equivalent of that as Ardua and looked him over.

“Hey, are you okay? What happened? Why are you out here alone?

Are you hurt? Why are you holding your head like this?”

He didn’t seem to be bleeding from anywhere, but that still did not mean that he didn’t get whacked in the head.

He looked up at me and in the sparse light of the castle I could see half dried tear tracks that went down his face.

He was also slightly hyperventilating and trembling, What the hell had happened after I left?

Softening my voice as much as I could, I kneeled even closer to him, attempting to comfort him with my presence.

“Hey, talk to me, what happened?”

He suddenly wrapped his arms around the fluffy part of my neck and kept holding the fur while he trembled.

“I- I’m sorry, it’s just- just too much, way too much, it’s too loud, too bright and there are too many people! I- my brain can’t keep up, it’s just- ! “

He had started hyperventilating even worse as he spoke, and while I still wasn’t sure what was going on at least I knew now that he hadn’t been attacked or otherwise physically hurt.

“I’m not sure what exactly you mean, but if you want some peace and quiet you can just join me in lazing about out here?”

Since he was now very close to my vocal chords I took extra care to not be too loud and keep my voice soft for him.

He just mumbled something that definitely wasn’t words and shoved his tear stricken face into my mane.

Well, then I would have to figure it out myself.

Hooking one arm under him and holding him in the space between my neck and underarm I walked on three legs to the spot I had just left before and settled down again.

This time with a little ginger cuddled up to my thorax and hiding in the fur of my short mane curled up with his hands over his head as if to protect himself from some unseen foe.

The worst thing was that I had no idea what the hell was wrong or even how to help him.

I found it best to try again to get an at least somewhat coherent answer.

“Robin? I’m not sure what is going on right now, Can you tell me? I want to help but i don’t know how”

At first I thought he wouldn’t respond, aside from another high pitched whine, but then he finally gave me at least some information.

“My brain is screaming at me, that I need to go hide and that there’s too much noise, too much- everything right now! And it wont shut up!”

He sobbed out.

Oh, he had a bad brain day, err night, I've had some of those, shortly after my mother had died but they weren’t frequent and certainly not as severe as his.

Apparently all the stuff that had happened over the past month had just gotten too much as he attended the party where a ton of loud people were and not to mention that the room was stupidly hot too.

“Well, considering what has happened over the course of the last month that isn’t really a surprise, believe me my brain had trouble catching up at all!

And don’t worry, everyone gets overwhelmed sometimes, that’s just a thing that happens, you can stay with me for as long as you want”

He just tried to bury himself further in the fur of my neck, even if there wasn’t that much more to burrow into.

“S’not the first time, it happens a lot to me and i don’t know why, I don’t do anything that the others don’t, so why me?

Why’s my brain like this?

I try my best to keep it together but it never works”

He sniffled a little and continued to try and disappear into my fur.

Oh, so this was not a new nor unusual occurrence for him, no wonder he tried to ditch the party by hiding out in the garden.

And the fact that he hyperventilated must have been because he had a panic attack before me speaking snapped him out of it.

“Is there ANYthing i can do to help you?

If not we can just stay here for a while”

He curled up against my neck and mumbled.

“I just wanna hide somewhere till my brain is quiet again, but i don’t wanna be alone, but i also don’t wanna see anyone’s face right now”

Well, those were a tiny bit conflicting with each other, What the hell was I even supposed to do with that information?

With his form curled so close to my throat he couldn’t see my face, and it was sorta hidden, he wasn’t alone either.

But maybe that was still too exposed for him?

Or too loud as I could still faintly hear the party in the distance and see the stupidly bright light from the windows.

“I- well what can i do?

I’m not the smartest in such stuff so please tell me”

He pressed himself even more into the fur of my throat, if that was even possible and mumbled into it.

“I- i just want to Hide, somewhere were the outside world can’t get me”

“Hide? Where? Do you want me to bring you to Oakleys tower?

Oakley might even be able to help better than I did, but if he didn’t want to see more people right now then I would just try my best and hope that it would work.

“No, I- i want you to hide me, can you hide me again? Like in the snow?”

Like in the snow? What did he-

Oh.

Surely that wasn’t what he meant?

“i- like when you were cold?

Are you absolutely sure that’s what you want?”

feeling him nod i could hear the softest voice answer

“Mhm, i just wanna be somewhere where the outside world can’t get me, but i don’t wanna be alone either, and i know you wont hurt me”

He wanted to hide with me, go back in THERE of all things too.

And only because he thought it would help, and that he was absolutely convinced that I would not hurt him.

How the FUCK could i say no to him? I couldn’t, not when he displayed such an amount of trust in me that I would keep him safe.

“Only if you are absolutely sure, and if you get scared for any reason tell me and i’ll get you out as fast as i can, okay?”

He made an agreeing sound and slowly uncurled a little so he could reach my face.

While getting out of my mane he used one hand to brace himself on my face, and his hands were tiny, HE was tiny.

If he truly thought this would help him then i would do it, even if i didn’t understand it, i said i’d help him so i would even if it was rather unusual.

I carefully shifted around him so I had enough space to move my head properly and he wouldn’t have to awkwardly climb over my legs.

He just stood there for a second, hugging himself with his arms and slightly hunched over,

He was so small, he already wasn’t a tall human but with me as Ardua he was just so tiny, and with him standing there so vulnerable right now it was as if a breeze could knock him over.

I took a deep breath before looking at him again.

“Okay, last chance to back out, are you SURE about this?

If you don’t wanna say anything, tap three times and I’ll stop, okay?”

He was still shaking, and I had no idea how long such an episode usually lasted but I was sure that if he thought it would help then I’d do it.

He just leaned forward and put his slightly shaking forehead against my snout.

I could feel that his head was cold and clammy, yeah, he needed help.

“M’ sure, go ahead”

He mumbled out in a shaky voice.

That was probably all the confirmation I was gonna get from him.

So without further ado i opened my mouth, waiting for just one second in case he backed out at the last moment.

He didn’t, instead he reached out and grabbed hold of one of my teeth.

Admittedly that was a very weird sensation, but since he seemed to be okay with it I brought him fully into my mouth, making sure to shield my bottom teeth with my tongue so there was no chance he could get nicked by one.

I gave him a few more seconds before I closed my mouth and sealed him in, then I waited a few more seconds, sort of expecting him to tap three times and ask to be let out.

There was no tapping, instead he just kind of sunk into my tongue, relaxing the tiniest bit.

This was weird as fuck, but i didn’t do it for myself, I did it to help my friend.

If someone had told me a few months ago that i would actually have friends i’d have laughed at them, but now I actually did have people to care about.

And a lot of other unbelievable stuff happened too of course, like right now.

Since Robin still hadn’t asked to be let out I decided to slowly tip my head back, giving him one last chance to back out before I swallowed.

Robin just put his arms over his head, not in an attempt to stop though,

It was more like he tried to make himself slimmer.

He really was okay with this, well he had suggested it, weird as it was.

Tipping my head fully back I let him slide a bit before taking the first swallow.

I waited for one second to see if this would cause him to freak out but there was nothing aside from the trembling that had persisted since he walked into me.

I gently swallowed again, Placing my paw softly against my throat, I was barely able to sense the bulge traversing down before it made its way behind my collarbone and out of reach from my limbs.

Another swallow then sent him spilling into my pouch and I held my breath, there was still a chance that this could cause him to freak out.

He did not freak out luckily, The only movement he made was to right himself and get out of the sort of upside down position he had initially landed in since he’d gone in head first.

He was still trembling though, so I thought it best to check up on him in case he just froze in a fight or flight response.

“Robin? Are you okay? If you are scared i’ll let you out right away”

“No, I’m- i’m okay, i’m calmer now, this is actually helping”

Thank FUCK he wasn’t freaking out, and it really was helping? How?

At least he wasn’t trembling as much anymore, if that was from finally calming down or his adrenaline running out I couldn’t tell.

I hoped it was the former.

“Hey Robin? Not to pry but uhh, How is this helping?”

If he didn’t want to answer that was also okay, but I couldn’t deny that I was curious as to WHY.

I could feel him shift for a second before he answered, or at least tried to.

“I- well- i just-”

He seemed to flop over and I was pretty sure I heard an annoyed groan before he tried again, this time a lot more coherent as the words just spilled from his mouth.

“Sometimes the world is just too loud, there’s noise everywhere and- and if it gets too much I just can’t anymore!

And it’s so bright too! Some days it hurts my eyes.

And then it’s too quiet again which makes me really anxious that people don’t like me and don’t want to talk to me!

But here it’s- it’s sort of calm? Like it’s not silent, I can hear your Heart and everything and I know I’m not alone but-,

I- I feel like nothing can get me while I’m here, I feel like I don’t have to stare people in the face to find clues to what they actually mean!

I get it wrong most of the time anyway, and you’re the only one that always tells the truth so I don’t have to guess if you actually mean what you said or not!

And there’s no light to hurt my eyes! I mean it’s not completely dark.

Just sorta very dim so it’s not scary either.

I mean you’re not scary, at all, you’re nice to me even if you don’t have to.

I just- sometimes I feel like there is too much space and I don’t like it!

But- it’s nice to be able to escape reality, At- at least for a little bit.

I- I’m sorry for rambling, if you don’t want me here now i’ll leave!

I know i’m weird-”

“It’s okay, I’m weird too, I mean look at me, I’m a big green catlike creature with flowers growing on its back and a pointy eared bastard, and sometimes a giant”

I interrupted him before he could talk himself back into a less than ideal headspace.

How about I’ll promise you something? Is that okay?”

“Mmh?”

He seemed a bit confused that I would offer to promise him anything.

Well as half Fae it was binding, so i could not back out, ever.

PREVIOUS / NEXT / OVERSIGHT

[magixfairyix]

A Shared Darkness

A Pokemon x Winx oneshot, where a Mimikyu finds it's way into the Magical Dimension and runs into a certain witch.

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Mimikyu didn't know where it was. How its surroundings suddenly went from the tall palm trees and beaches of Alolah to a dark forest with towering trees that cast a shadow all around it. A little similar to the deeper forests it was used to, but small creatures that reminded Mimikyu of a few bug-type Pokemon buzzed around the trees.

It shuffled along the ground, making sure its disguise stayed on. That was one of the things it was focused on, to keep itself hidden from the things around it. Both that and the worry of where it was.

Somewhere else in Alolah it's never been? Mimikyu hadn't travelled much besides Mele Mele Island, so maybe it somehow found its way to another one of the four islands. But Mimikyu had never seen the swirling glow before; the glow it went into before ended up here.

Wherever here was.

Mimikyu kept shuffling, feeling disheartened, before it bumped into something. It flinched in surprise, now realizing it had run into someone's foot while being too lost in thought.

"What the hell...?"

Mimikyu shuffled back slowly as it glanced up as best it could at the person it ran into. The best way Mimikyu could describe the person was that they looked like they'd fit in well enough with Team Skull. If Team Skull was purple.

Purple looked down at Mimikyu curiously, an eyebrow raising and one hand on her hip. "And what are you?"

Mimikyu was confused at that. People around Alolah knew about it, specifically about what not to do around Mimikyu. It had first-hand experience with that...

Mimikyu wasn't always without a trainer.

Purple knelt down in front of Mimikyu, and the Pokemon shuffled back urgently before bumping into a rock behind it. It didn't want to be near people. Too dangerous and too worrisome.

Purple chuckled softly.

"How's Cloud Tower sound, whatever-you-are?"

She held out a hand without fear.

Mimikyu didn't know the last time that happened.

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Mimikyu found out that Purple's name was 'Darcy,' but the white-haired person in the room Mimikyu had followed Darcy into had called her 'what-the-fuck-is-that?'

Mimikyu had observed siblings playing together on Alolah, and these two were no different.

There was also apparently a 'Stormy' as well that was elsewhere, and although Mimikyu was concerned at the possibility of bad weather it felt calmer in the surroundings.

It was similar to the graveyard full of Drifloons and the like; dark, grey, and slightly musty in a way that reminded Mimikyu of the places it frequented when too many trainers were catching Pokemon in the forests. The entire building was the same way, and Mimikyu saw some of the hallways even with Darcy moving around the halls as if hiding.

Mimikyu sat on a bed as it watched Darcy walk over to a bookshelf full of books neatly placed against each other, pausing in thought before pulling one out. Mimikyu couldn't read. But Darcy seemed confused as she brought out the book, but a soft smile was still on her face.

"Now let's find out what you are," Darcy said, sitting down on the desk next to her bed which Mimikyu was shuffling back and forth anxiously on.

Mimikyu stopped though when it felt a gentle hand on its head.

It glanced up, and if it could smile, it would.

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Mimikyu forgot about the promise it made to itself about not ever letting itself be caught again. It wasn't about to kill one of its trainers, albiet accidentally. But the month it had spent at the building it learned was 'Cloud Tower' with Darcy was a reassuring and calming time.

The two were walking in the forest Mimikyu first appeared, the Pokemon leading the way with its tilted head held high and without the fear it first arrived with.

It had heard Darcy speaking to Stormy—who wasn't bad weather and was actually pretty pleasant to be around—about how she didn't know how to get 'that thing' home.

Mimikyu knew it was 'that thing,' and it never wanted to go home.

It was as happy as it could be here in this 'Magical Dimension' place.

Mimikyu continued to shuffle, ducking under a low-hanging branch of a tree with sharp things sticking out of the branches. It kept going, not realizing how the branch had hooked on the fabric of its disguise.

It kept shuffling before realizing, glancing back behind it slowly and in fear to see the uninhabited disguise laying on the grass behind it. Mimikyu jumped, tears in its eyes as it raced to move back under the disguise.

It knew Darcy had been behind it.

Mimikyu wanted to get the disguise and run.

It didn't want to see Darcy dead on the ground.

It couldn't go through that.

Not again.

"Never something as little as you could have that much dark magic..."

Mimikyu thought it was somehow imagining the witch's perplexed mumble. It had gotten back under the disguise and was about to turn before it heard the person's voice.

It was frozen for a moment, too afraid to glance up.

Mimikyu steeled itself before looking up from the ground. To its shock, it didn't see Darcy dead on the ground or in a state of insanity. She was... standing. Right where she was as if nothing happened.

She wasn't dead!

Darcy glanced down at Mimikyu, not realizing what had happened. "Let's keep going, okay?" She gave a soft smile to the shocked Pokemon, walking past it. "We're almost at Magix City."

Mimikyu stared as Darcy kept walking before it lept up in joy, then raced after her.

Both of them disappeared into the forest.

[ilovespec]

The Last Worship

[ Yandere goddess × female human ! reader. ] the last part.

part 1

part 2

character discription

You walk around the temple here, in the forest so quiet and peaceful… Which is very different from your village, where there’s always noise and even in the quietest, darkest corner, there’s no peace. The atmosphere here is so calm… The sun has been nice and pleasant, and the wind is soft. Everything seems today perfect and quiet. You couldn’t help yourself, and you fell under a massive tree , and after a few minutes you fell asleep. This tree is very strong and old , according to all the 100 years old tree… You hope that even in your sleep everything will be calm.

Aida walked calmly around the neighborhood in search of a sense of urgency. Yes, Aida. That’s her name. And her old wounds are so sore…but it’s nothing, because she has you. You’re her sunshine, her little sunshine, and her only comfort. Because you’re the only living thing she’s seen in the last hundred years… and she likes it. Her long white clothes were slightly creased on the wet grass. After a few minutes she came upon you, sleeping. Her pale and skinny face is even reddish. Because you are just a pure little lamb. The world does not deserve to see you… Stop. Why does she think of it like that ? And you are a little pure soul. So, maybe, she can do with you what she wants… Her huge figure is hanging over your sleeping body, and Aida sits next to you, not attracting you. Her dark-blue eyes are looking softly at your sleeping face. Why does she want to sleep so much? She’s a fucking god ! She doesn’t need a nap. But if she takes a nap for a few minutes, nothing will happen, right…???

After a few hours, there was a loud stomping of feet and angry shouts of people. Aida immediately jumped up and went screaming. There was a group of people. And they tried to break down the door of the temple… What a disrespect for the temple… Her temple!!! And judging by their shouts, they wanted to burst into the temple. From her throat came a quiet growl and the cloth on her back began to tear. From her back a pair of massive black wings sprang out, and a couple feathers fell on the ground. These vandals, you can see immediately lost desire to destroy this place. Not everyone wants to ruin anything , when they are faced with a woman of 3 meters with black wings and nimbus aggreviolently staring at them. Their feet immediately carried them in the opposite direction, but all the people fell on their backs. And within a few minutes they were completely turned into dust , the wind was blowing. Cold dark-blue eyes staring at the place where before there was a group of people, now nothing. And after a few minutes she came back to you. And you woke up after a few seconds. Maybe it was her pheromones. You stared shockingly at her "exmension" but her wing brought you closer to yourself. Close up you could see that her dark halo emits a weak glow. From her smells of the sea, honey and something old… You sighed as she lowered her head to your chest and passed out. You were in shock, and tried to take it away, but it weighs a ton. So you had no choice but to look at her. Her hair is long, down the back , you carefully ran your fingers over it… They are soft as silk. Her halo is felt like some kind of metal, and also a warm halo… Her face is thin , and pale . As is her skin. And her wings are rough, like a real bird. And only you were thinking and looking away, you immediately felt a big hand on your jaw and voice.

"Look at me further…"

Her dark blue eyes stared at yours. And finally you gave your voice.

" eh…we’ve known you for a few days, but I don’t know your nam- "

"Aida"

" Ah…??? "

"my name is Aida. I am the god of death."

Aida pulled the cloth of her clothes slightly from her shoulder, showing unbloated wounds…covered with black crust.

"See this wound? Because I, the god cast by other gods, my halo.. wings and blood , as you see became black. But I don’t care how much my wounds and body hurt… You are a ray of sunshine in my black as the darkness of existence."

Her powerful hands have been tightly wrapped around you.

"I, Aida - the god of death will protect and guard you like an apple in my eye until I die… But either way, I doubt it will happen. That’s why we’re together forever."

i hope u like itt ;) i tried my best !!!! Good night to everyone <333