#none of them besides the actual property manager has ever asked me that before at all they usually don’t care and are always busy

[tariah23]

Last night, my boss called me out of the blue (he’s never done that before. It was like, almost 9pm and my sister and I were out eating at a restaurant in Chinatown. Well, we’d just left tbh.) asking if I was “coming in today?” And if “I need my hours,” like man, what? And tried to joke about the times where I’d text him to ask if I should still come in because the weather is bad and I can’t work the pool if it’s raining. They literally know this. I’ve been sent home because of the rain at least 5 times now, bro, stop playing with me. He said some shit like “you aren’t just doing that as an excuse to call off, right hahah?” And I just feel like that since they want to fire me, he’s trying to come up with an excuse to do so. He tried to take a jab at me asking by about the weather as an excuse to go into possibly “calling off too much,” even though I’ve never missed a day of work since starting this location. The only days I’ve missed are the days where they’d send me home because of the rain and that one weekend because I was gone for vacation, so they can’t use my attendance at all. I’m late sometimes (only because I’m tired of this place, man. I’m so unmotivated but I need the money orz. The good thing is that the leasing agents and those in higher positions aren’t there on the weekends. Only maintenance and the concierges and they don’t give a shit. I doubt they’d tell on me about being late since most of the concierges hate it there, too. They could gaf.) but my boss sounded like he was trying to see if I was going to coming in today (why wouldn’t I? I’ve been working the weekend for weeks now, what are you talking about 🗿…) so that he could try to have someone new work the pool to give them a chance to get used to it so that they could push me out/ fire me. Jokes on them, I might just call up my main boss on Monday and tell her that I’d like a new assignment because the work place has become hostile and it is now, making me feel uncomfortable.)

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Tequila Sunrise 1

Warnings: age gap, power dynamics, creep behaviour, other dark elements. As usual, be mindful of your content consumption.

ft. Cole Turner, older!reader

I also beg of you to leave me some tuppence in the form of a comment and/or reblog. You are cherished!

Enjoy, my loverlies.

You need this. For all the stress of your life, not to mention the added chaos of planning the getaway, you the week to be decent. No, not just decent. It has to be absolutely amazing. You haven’t spent so much time, money, and energy getting this all together for it to just be acceptable. 

You make yourself stop gritting your teeth, a bad habit your dentist and doctor both reproach you for. There’s also that pesky blood pressure issue and the stress headaches. That’s why you’re desperate for this. It’s not just a girls’ weekend, though none of you are really ‘girls’ anymore, it’s a therapeutic detachment from reality.  

For the next seven days, you are not a manager, you are not an ex-wife, or a middle child. You are on vacation. From all of it, from all of them. 

You’re the first there. That’s typical. Mandy rarely shows up within the first hour of a dinner, Jamila always runs in breathless saying she was somewhere important, Soo cancels more often than she shows, and Elaine is usual right on the dot. 

You made the booking, you have all the confirmations; you’ve checked, doubled-checked, and triple-checked and your early arrival is the very reason. You follow the automated voice of the GPS down the country road, your destination just ahead of you. Jamila found the airBnB online. It had rave reviews and you weren’t into a resort with all the young toned bodies or a beach house with sand blowing in from the beach. 

Maybe it’s age, maybe you’ve always been boring, but the farmhouse getaway sounds about your speed. You trust that you’ve brought enough wine and snacks to see you through a relaxing but rustic reprieve. You steer up to the wooden gate in the farmhouse style, the sort of vintage piece you see in films, and stop. 

You lean forward and tap your phone, leaving it on the dashmount as you flip through the app. The entry instructions... ‘honk’. What? 

You sit back and lay your palm gently on the horn. You don’t think you’ve ever actually used it. You put your weight into it and the blare makes you yipe and retract your arm. You sit there and idle just outside the gate. 

Should you get out and do it yourself? The latch looks easy enough. 

Before you can muster your courage to let yourself in, a voice calls and a man catches your sight with a waving hand. He runs down, his flannel shirt billowing open around a ribbed tank top. A tuft of sandy hair sticks out awkwardly at his crown and his jaw is dusted with heavy stubble. He’s about a decade younger, at least, and shows it. 

“Hey,” he calls out as you roll down your window. 

He unlatches the gate from the inside and lifts it as he pulls it open. He smiles as he steps back and waves you through. You slowly roll forward and stop just beside him. 

“Am I in the right place? I have a booking for a farmstead?” You ask. 

“That’s me,” he grins, his blue eyes sparkling as he bends to look you in the face, “you’re just going to wanna pull all the way down,” he points and looks after his hand, “you’ll be staying in the guest house. It down the other end of the property. Secluded so you don’t need to worry about me.” 

“Oh,” you try not to show your concern. That wasn’t in the listing. It’s supposed to be a girls’ weekend, not a supervised outing. 

“Your family following you up?” 

“Pardon?” You keep your foot on the brake. 

“Yeah, I saw the booking for five. You must have quite the clan.” 

“Uh, no, my friends,” you explain. 

“Oh, well I hope you ladies have a good time. I’ll just grab my truck and follow you down. Straight shot, just keep going down the road. You can’t miss it. I’ll be right behind you to show you around.” 

“Mm, okay,” you agree dully. “Thanks.” 

“Cole,” he offers his name and hand, and says your name in return, “that’s you, right?” 

“Yep,” you answer. Definitely the right place. 

“I’m just around in case there’s any issues. Maintenance or whatever. Swear, you’ll hardly even know I’m here. I’ll be around the main house,” he looks behind him at the large farmhouse, “guest house is way better. Fully updated. Oh and I just redid the bathrooms.” 

“Oh, sounds great, the pictures looked wonderful,” you give a fragile smile, “so, uh, straight ahead?” 

“You got it,” he slaps the top of the car and keeps his hand there. His chest hair peeks out from under the tank as his neck tendons clench, “take it slow. I can’t lose any more chickens.” 

“Oh my,” you grimace. 

“Uh, yeah,” he laughs, “sorry, kinda grim. Well,” he pushes himself straight. His tank is almost transparent with sweat as it clings to his stomach, “I’m sure you’re dying to get settled.” 

“Yeah,” you agree and turn your sights ahead of you. 

He steps back and you ease onto the gas. As you clear him, he’s running off across the grass. He has a lot of energy. It’s the perfect contrast to your complete lack of. 

You keep your eyes straight ahead and follow the worn and weathered tire tracks. Your car jostles with the lumpy ground and you stay alert for any feathery creatures wandering around. Maybe it isn’t the ranch house paradise you thought but it’s still palatial. You won’t care much once you have some wine in you. 

[griffintail]

Okay this is just a small thing that you don't have to do, just an idea but like. What do you think their reactions would be to wolf hybrid!Child reader going Rabid on a skeleton that tried to hurt their dad.

I hope you enjoy! ♥

In Game, Reader is 10

Pairings:  Platonic! Parental! Tommy, Wilbur, Philza, Technoblade, Eret, and Dream x F! Child! Wolf Hybrid! Reader

Warnings: Fighting of Mobs

        TommyInnit

        Hyped

        Tommy loved bringing (Y/N) everywhere he went, much to everyone’s dismay her whole life.

        Their dismay lessened once (Y/N) was able to actually learn how to fight. With her added perks of being part wolf and her father being a decent fighter, she wasn’t half bad for only being ten.

        Today, the pair were out trying to get (Y/N) her first disc. Sure, she had her father’s she shared with him but she wanted her own, which made Tommy so proud of her. Together they struck out into the world and went searching for a few ruined temples and such.

        “We only got a few diamonds so far.” (Y/N) huffed, her ears flat on top of her head after they searched their third temple.

        “None of that now!” Tommy tried to cheer her up. “It took me ages to find my first disc. We’ll find one for you. And having a few diamonds isn’t too bad either! We can use them to try and scam a few items from people.”

        (Y/N)’s tail wagged at her father’s words. “Yeah! We’ll find one! And if you’re going to do more scams with Uncle Tubbo can I join?”

        “Of course! That’s the spirit!” He ruffled her hair between her ears as they went to find a new place to loot.

        Night was slowly creeping up on them when they found a new abandoned building.

        “Alright, it’s dark inside and it’s late. So, get your shield and sword ready.” Tommy told her.

        She nodded, taking her shield off her back as Tommy went in first, shield up and sword at the ready. Following in after him with her shield, her ears twitched as she listened. Tommy walked forward when (Y/N) heard the pulling off a bow. Before she could warn him, Tommy yelped as an arrow snagged his bandana and tore it as it went by.

         He whipped around to defend himself when (Y/N) snarled, launching herself into the skeleton.

        The monster was barely able to hold itself together and got no chance to respond to the attack as the child used her sword to cut off its head. Tommy stood in surprise as (Y/N)’s ears twitched and her tail straight as she growled tearing the rest of the bones apart.

        “Holy shit!” He exclaimed finally, (Y/N) jumping as she looked at him. “That was fucking awesome!”

        She knelt on the ground for a moment with a bone in her hand, watching him before grinning and her tail wagged quickly.

        “Really?”

        “Of course! My training for you has really worked!” He grinned as helped her up. “Let’s go own more shit!”

        “Yeah!” She bounced putting the bone in her hand in her bag to gnaw on later.

        Tommy had her listen first this time and together they took out any other mobs.

        In the end, Tubbo screamed as Tommy slammed his door open with (Y/N) on his shoulders, practically howling while holding a disc in celebration. It was just an average adventure.

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

        Wilbur

        Worried but proud

        Oh look, Wilbur has another animal child, who would be surprised?

        After the war, L’Manberg had become a mostly peaceful nation. (Y/N) didn’t need to learn how to fight like her brother so he let her instead enjoy her other passions.

        It very much pleased Wilbur though that his little girl always still wanted to spend time with him. One of those days, the pair had been outside the walls. Wilbur had brought his guitar, strumming as he sang, while (Y/N) ran around to get her extra energy. The father hadn’t expected the storm clouds to roll in so fast but they did.

        The rain started to pour, (Y/N) screaming as she clung onto Wilbur as thunder boomed.

        “It’s alright little star.” He assured her as he quickly got up, putting his guitar on his back. “Let’s get back home.”

        She clung to his hand as they sprinted for the path and went for L’Manberg. He had carelessly not brought a weapon as he hadn’t expected to be out when monsters could come out. So, when a skeleton was in the path, he halted to a stop, looking for a quick escape before it noticed them.

        “This way—” Wilbur tugged (Y/N)’s hand but his eyes went wide as the arrow flew past his head. “Shit!”

        Before he knew it, (Y/N) had let go of his hand. He was too busy looking for a weapon to defend himself and his child when he noticed (Y/N) attacking the skeleton.

        “(Y/N)!” He yelped in panic as he rushed forward.

        Even without any experience, just pure instinct to protect her pack, she managed to take apart the skeleton. Wilbur pulled her from it, her big eyes looking at him with a bone in her mouth. She sat there for a moment before her eyes went wide, the bone dropping.

        “I’m sorry daddy!”

        Wilbur didn’t know what to say for a moment, the thunderclap breaking him from his thoughts as (Y/N) screamed, clinging onto him again. He took a new approach and scooped her up before sprinting instead for the Embassy. Tommy wasn’t in, so they were able to slip in. The man sighed with relief to be out of the rain, putting (Y/N) down.

        She shook the water out of her hair as she swished her tail to do the same. Wilbur took off his guitar, jacket, and hat, laying the objects on a chest as he ruffled his hair.

        “Alright, let’s get your jacket off and find something to dry off with,” Wilbur said, going for the back room.

        “I’m really sorry daddy.” She spoke before he stepped through.

        He stopped, remembering what happened. He looked back at her, her ears pointed back as she stared down at the ground with her hands behind her back and her wet tail on the floor. Coming over, he knelt in front of her, taking her shoulders, having her look at.

        “There’s nothing to be sorry about,” Wilbur told her, making one of her ears twitch. “You did good. I was extremely worried, yes. I was scared you would get hurt and I don’t want you to rush into danger again without a proper weapon, but I’m not angry or disappointed with you.”

        “I really did good?” She asked, her tail coming off the floor.

        “Yes, you did.” He smiled. “I’m proud you were able to think on your feet little star and protect us both. But, as I said, we’re not going to do that again without a weapon right?”

        “Yes sir, Mr. President.” She gave a giggle with a salute.

        He laughed as he kissed her forehead and ruffled her hair. “Now let’s get you dry.”

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

        Philza

        Would have taught her more control, proud

        (Y/N) laughed as Phil held her securely to him as they soared through the sky from the village they had just traded at.

        “You having fun darling?” He smiled at her.

        “Yes!” She cheered, her ears twitching madly in the wind. “This so much more fun than walking!”

        He laughed himself as he nodded. “It is. Like I said though, I can’t do this long, we’ll probably have to walk the rest of the way home.”

        “Aw ok.” She frowned but instead smiled and decided to enjoy the moment.

        Phil had promised the young girl when she was old enough, he’d start taking her one trading expeditions after he trained her up a bit. He did tend to stay out for long periods of time after all and usually saw mobs. It had come to that time and Phil personally trained her. As Phil had taught all three of his sons, teaching his fourth child was no work and (Y/N) picked it up quickly. He also helped her work on her wolf instincts just as he had with Techno with his piglin ones.

        Of course, it was precautional training. He wasn’t going to let her fight mobs so easily. There was little to no chance she’d have to fight anything; Phil was a master at avoiding mobs and taking them out with ease as he only had one life left to his name and had to be extra careful.

        As night was starting to set in, Phil landed as his wings took as much as they could.

        “Alright, stay close to me darling.” He told her as he took off his shield and sword as a precaution.

        She nodded, her ears perked up and listening carefully to help her father as she had her own gear out. Together, they walked through the snow towards their home, Phil ahead of (Y/N) as she was close to his back. As they were close to the edge of their property, (Y/N)’s right ear twitched at the sound of a bowstring in the distance. Quickly, she turned and held up a shield in front of her father’s back, an arrow giving a loud THUNK as it hit the wood.

        Phil jumped at the noise, whipping around just as (Y/N) dashed forward and used her sword to strike the skeleton with ease. He rushed over as the skeleton tried to recollect itself and gave a final blow to it.

        “Come on,” Phil told her as her tail swished and she growled lightly. “We’re almost home.”

        She followed Phil again and from there they got home safely. He sighed in relief as he laid down his weapons, (Y/N) laying hers down beside him. Looking at his daughter, he patted her head between her ears smiling.

        “Good job kiddo. You really had my back.”

        Her tail wagged eagerly as she smiled. “I learned from the best.”

        He laughed as he nodded. “Guess you did. We got to work on you not rushing in head first though ok?”

        “Ok.” She nodded with determination.

        “That’s my little angel.”

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

        Technoblade

        Proud

        (Y/N) was the daughter of the Blood God!

        The second she could hold a sword on her own, she wanted to learn everything she could just to be like her father. Techno was glad to teach her as he wanted to make sure if his enemies ever found her, she could defend himself and he did tend to exploit her wolf abilities in some dangerous places, so not having to watch her constantly was good too.

        Today was any other day. A bit of training between the two, trading a bit with a village, minor terrorism in the Dream SMP land.

        “So, what did we learn today?” Techno asked as he led her across the bridge in the Nether to the home portal.

        “Grandpa doesn’t let us have fun?” She questioned as she looked at him.

        Techno threw back his head in laughter at that. Phil had convinced Techno not to do a few of his crimes, much to the pair’s disappointment.

        “I was looking for more we keep better track of our invisibility, but grandpa not letting us have fun is true too.” He grinned.

        (Y/N) wagged her tail as Techno went through the portal first, (Y/N) a few seconds behind. He frowned at the night sky, taking his axe off his belt as he saw a few scattered mobs in the snow.

        “Guess we were in the Nether too long,” Techno said. “Stay close to me. We’re going to make a run for the house.”

        “Ok.” She nodded as she took off her sword just as a precaution.

        “Three, two, one, go!” He told her before the two of them sprinted across the snow.

        They had piqued the interest of a few zombies but they were much too fast for them. As they got close to the house, an arrow snagged itself into Techno’s cape. He stopped and went to turn with a full axe swing but didn’t get the chance as a snarl filled the air. Looking, he saw (Y/N) slashing through the skeleton with ease then tore it apart with her own hands.

        He was impressed but there were mobs around. So, grabbing her by the arm, he dragged her away, forcing her to run with him again as she growled still at the now-dead skeleton.

        “Come on killer.” He told her with a proud smirk.

        “It tried to hurt you.” She huffed as they finally slowed down on the porch.

        “Yes, but what do we say?” He looked at her.

        “Technoblade never dies!” She threw up her arms with a grin and he smiled as well as he ruffled her hair as he opened the door.

        “That’s right. You did well out there, little goddess, we need to work on your form though and that was a bit overkill.”

        She pouted. “Ok.”

        He chuckled patting her head. “But I’m proud of you regardless.”

        That made her smile again as Techno took off his cape to fix it. As he did the voices were chanting.

        Blood Child! Blood Child! Blood Child!

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

        Eret

        Worried

        (Y/N), as a wolf hybrid, had an excessive amount of energy that Eret was just not able to keep up with sometimes. So, he’d let her go off on her own with Tommy, the two usually able to work both of their excessive energy out without any possible danger as Eret made Tommy promise him.

        It had been one of those days and Eret was waiting by the castle gate, worry starting to seep into him as the sun was starting to set.

        “Damn it, Tommy.” He muttered under his breath before going back inside the castle for a moment.

        Coming back out and starting to walk down the path, now he had a sword strapped to his belt as he made his way to Tommy’s. As he got to the fenced area, he heard the sounds of (Y/N)’s laughter as Tommy was yelling out profanities. Going in and to the door, he knocked on Tommy’s door. Swinging it open, Tommy stood there with a scowl on his face.

        “You’re both late,” Eret told him.

        “Shit, is it really that late?” Tommy’s eyes went wide at the setting light. “I got to meet up with Wilbur!”

        He went back inside as (Y/N) came over, seeing her father, a guilty look on her face seeing the fading light.    

        “Sorry, dad.”

        “It’s alright sweetie. Let’s get home before it gets too dark. Stay safe Tommy!” He called as (Y/N) came to Eret’s side.

        The two walked down the Prime Path as the sun set full set.

        “You’re not mad?” (Y/N) asked.

        “No princess, I understand you were having fun. I was just worried and I knew I had to come to get you. Tommy’s a good fighter but I don’t think he could protect two people.” Eret explained calmly to her.

        “Well, I’m sorry I worried you.”

        “It’s alright, let’s just get home safe.” He smiled at her.

        The castle was just in sight, making Eret feel relief that they’d get there without seeing a single mob, but he jinxed himself. As they stepped out of the gate from the Community House, an arrow flew by his arm. He jumped in surprise, pulling his sword as he went to grab (Y/N) to pull her behind him, but only grabbed air.

        Looking around in a panic, he saw his little girl tackling the skeleton on instinct and starting to pull it apart with her hands.

        “Princess.” He said quickly as he went over and pulled her off the mob as she growled. “It’s alright. Calm down.”

        “It tried to hurt you!”

        “I understand sweetie, but you should have let me handle it alright?”

        She huffed but nodded. “Alright.”

        He helped her up and smiled as he ruffled her hair. “Thank you for being my knight instead princess but I promise I got it.”

        “Ok, dad.” She agreed as they went home to the castle without any more problems. “…can you teach me how to fight though?”

        “If you want to princess. We’ll figure it out.”

        “Thank you, dad.” She smiled.

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

        Dream

         Proud but Worried

        “Got you!” (Y/N) howled as she tackled George, who in turn screamed.

        Dream laughed as he came over to them putting his wooden sword on George’s chest. They were playing a game of Manhunt and Dream had (Y/N) on his team naturally. With that, she was able to use her wolf senses to win with ease. Dream actually had to do very little but defend her. Sure, he trained her but there was a large training curve between her and everyone else.

        “We win again.” Dream told him.

        “This is no fair,” George whined. “(Y/N) can hear everything.”

        “You guys practically stomp around the forest.” (Y/N) grinned as she jumped up, her tail wagging rapidly.

        “Now don’t be too mean to your uncle.” Dream laughed, ruffling her hair.

        “I’m going to guess George lost too.” Sapnap came over to the group.

        “Dad and I are the best team!” (Y/N) threw up her hands, making Dream grin as he moved his mask from his face.

        “What told you? The scream?” Dream teased George now.

        George grabbed Dream, trying to tackle him but Dream managed to swing it back and pin George to the ground. The goggled man huffed at his second defeat as (Y/N) cheered.

        “Alright, let’s get home you two idiots.” Dream chuckled as he helped George up.

        The sun was close to setting and they were in the forest. The two other men agreed with Dream and everyone started walking.

        “Can we play again tomorrow?” (Y/N) asked Dream with eagerness, her tail still wagging.

        He laughed, nodding. “Sure. But why don’t you try and find me tomorrow with your uncles?”

        “But I like your team.” She pouted.

        “I’m honored sweetheart, but we have to make your uncles think they’re good too.” He whispered but loud enough for the others to hear.

        “Alright! You listen here Dream!” Sapnap stopped to argue with his friend, making Dream laughed.

        (Y/N) was giggling as the three were playfully arguing with each other but she frowned as her ear twitched hearing a sound in the forest. It sounded like…bones?

        Then she heard the bowstring and her eyes went wide.

        “Look out!” She shouted, startling everyone, giving them enough time to move as the arrow just flew past Dream’s face.

        “Holy shit!” Dream exclaimed in surprise.

        Before anyone could react, there was a snarl and the three saw the little girl tearing the skeleton apart.

        “Yo! You show it (Y/N)!” Sapnap cheered.

        “Shut up. Alright, sweetheart.” Dream came over, pulling her off. “You got it.”

        She huffed at the pile of bones before looking at her dad. “Are you ok daddy?”

        He smiled lightly as he nodded, patting her head as he crouched in front of her. “I’m fine, you warned me just in time.”

        “Good.” She grinned, her tail wagging.

        “But I don’t want you to do something like that again ok?” He looked at her seriously. “You got it, but you went way over of what you needed to.”

        She frowned, confused. “What do you mean?”

        “It was dead, but you kept going. That’s serious stuff. Sapnap was wrong to encourage you. I’m proud you got it, but you need to keep your control, ok?”

        She nodded slowly. “Ok. I think I understand.”

        He smiled again, kissing the top of her head. “Good. Now let’s get home before anything else catches us.”

        With that, the four went home, pride definitely in his chest but he would make sure his daughter understood her anger.

[cryptiql]

smoke signals

pairing: dabi/m!reader

warnings: smoking, mentions of anxiety and abuse, but otherwise okay. please do not read forward if any of the listed warnings might trigger you in any way, and stay safe <3

words: 6.5k

a/n: this is my first ever mha fic and the fact that i decided to do dabi first shows i have some massive balls but i'm giving it a try! if he seems ooc at all or i get some facts wrong, please lmk and i'll fix them. (heavily inspired by smoke signals by phoebe bridgers—would recommend listening to it or any of her other songs while reading)

dabi found the meaning of life in a simple strum of chords; a melody twisted by melancholy tunes that resonated deep within the gates of his mind. they haunt him—either by breaking his conscious from a much needed rest to bring him tossing and turning in the damp air of the loft, or making sure that he stayed wide awake during the late hours of the night and well into the creeping day. the lyrics are so surreal that he has to sit down and contemplate their meaning like an english teacher would to the color red, but they're painted saccharine and drip with honey flowing from the mouth that sings them and he hates it. he hates that he's wasted moments better spent wrecking havoc just to understand that stupid little ditty that clings to his heart like a leech. but this song did not come from his own craft—no.

dabi had known the putrid stench of sweat and vermillion blood when the flames licked at his skin, breaching the coarse flesh of his palms to rain hellfire upon all those who dared oppress him. he could weave lies with knots that would take years to unravel, and set whole cities ablaze with a mere finger. clawing oneself from a well built to drown them in their trauma does tend to leave scars on ones hands, and dabi's body was practically a canvas for mutilation, so he could consider himself an expert on the matter. he could attempt to make such a song by strapping in with his many hours of free time and diligent persona, but his hands were not made for music; neither delicate, sonorous tunes or dark, grating strains. they were made for war.

so if anyone had asks, "no" is his answer. "i don't play." and yes, it is while he's drumming a rhythmic beat that he claims this to be true, but the last thing he thinks about is donning a set of drums during his free time. he's far too distracted by the image of your taper fingers curled around the neck of your guitar to consider anything else.

the gentle but keen plucking of chords startles him from yet another ridiculously long-winded spiel by shigaraki, and dabi swallows a strangled groan behind his grinding teeth. it's in his head, now, and so far the only thing that has succeeded in reaping it from his memory—if only for a few minutes—is the blood stained battlefield that he's found himself fighting on far too many times this month alone.

what's he complaining about, though? it's not as though he minds getting down in the dirt. in fact, he's ecstatic to dig his claws into any gruesome ordeal so long as it benefits him in some way, so why is he so invested in this little to and fro game of twenty questions with the likes of you; someone as significant in the world as a paperclip without paper to hold? why come back, despite there being nothing in it for him besides a series of migraines?

not from you, a voice answers from inside. you're an absolute pleasure.

dabi nearly snarls at the confirmation that his own mind is turning against him, and as he does this, a plume of smoke erupts from his lips, billowing and curving to create intricate patters before dissipating into the atmosphere. a second time. a third. a fourth drag from the cigarette has completely obscured his face from anyone's view, and he relishes in the instant of privacy it gives him. however, it has also blocked him from seeing everyone else in the room, and while he normally would have considered that a blessing, it appears tomura has had enough of it.

you get headaches because you smoke too much, comes a second voice; yours, scolding in a way he'd only expect from a worried mother. dabi only has a split second to register it before shigaraki's head pokes through the fumes, red eyes alight with rage and lips pulled back into a snarl.

"would you quit doing that inside? it's fogging up my brain and i can't think straight." he grates.

"strange—i assumed there wasn't a brain in there to fog up in the first place." tomura's nostrils flare and dabi's pride spikes.

"besides, you came in here and looked directly at me as i was smoking—why didn't you ask me to stop then?"

"i was telling you with my eyes, idiot. you should know when it's time to either take it outside or put the damn thing out. there are ashtrays for a reason, and not everyone here wants to inhale that shit." he interrupts their intense staring contest only to wave his hand to clear the smog. now he can see the rest of the league clearly (oh joy, he thinks) and gives an indignant grunt when spotting toga at the bar table, covering her mouth and nose as a pitiful aim to block her lungs from the smoke. twice, who had unfortunately used up the last pack of his own cigarettes that morning, leans forward to take a whiff, exhaling soon after with satisfaction.

kurogiri stands at his usual spot behind the bar, seemingly unaffected as he idly scrubs away at grime infested glasses, while sako lounges at the opposite end of the room. his mask is on, leaving dabi to wonder if it's been like that all day, or if he just recently put it on to better fend off the fumes. he doesn't really care, whatever the case.

after a beat of silence, dabi wets his lips to respond, a lopsided smirk growing on his features.

"oh, i'm sorry your frail body hasn't adapted to a bit of vapor in the air. and with that flakey skin of yours, it's no wonder you're extra sensitive—"

shigaraki's hands come flying through the next waft to slam against the tabletop where dabi's feet lie, causing it to wobble and creak in protest. the ravenette doesn't even flinch as the harsh, raspy words are spat in his face.

"if you're not going to pay attention, then leave. actually, i'd prefer you do that either way."

and dabi would have happily disregarded his request if not for the faint ringing in his ears, rising higher and higher before receding back into his skull like the tide. a scowl morphs its way onto his once vacant expression as he puts pressure on his temple, rubbing softly where his eyebrows knit together. just for today, he'll indulge his so-called boss's whims. the piercing screech that emits from below when he pushes his chair back does nothing to help with the ever-growing headache, but it hardly matters now that he's headed out the exit. he's able to catch the last fragments of shigaraki's raving before the door closes, leaving him to stand amid the tumult of the city in all of its glory.

the alleyway is dark with looming shadows, but people are still milling about, so dabi considers himself lucky for already being dressed in his disguise. he flips his hood up, pulls the surgical mask over his nose and quickly slides on his sunglasses for good measure before slipping out into the traffic, sometimes going with the flow and then weaving past those moving too slow for his liking.

right now, his patience is a mere thread; hair thin and on the edge of snapping whenever someone bumps his shoulder. their negligence is infuriating, and he's tempted to roast them into a charred, mangled mess then and there—the consequences of blowing his cover be damned—but by some miracle, he manages to refrain from doing so. it takes about five minutes for his temper to shorten to the length of a matchstick, and he knows that one more shove will be what strikes it. dabi pauses for a moment to crane his neck, allowing the sea of people to flow around him like a stream to a rock as he searches for an alternative route. it appears as though he'll have to take his chances with the crowd until he hears the repetitive ringing of a bell and a man's voice calling for passengers to board. public transport was risky, what with him being a menace to society, but he can't possibly be the single most shady dressing person on the train, right?

he wouldn't bother answering his own question when daylight was burning, so dabi pushes himself from the swarm and leaps for the streetcar just as it begins pulling away from the stop. there's a shuddering jolt before the passengers settle in for their departure, and as his palms squeeze the metal railing in response, he notices the peeling red paint clinging to the car's exterior and finds himself staring at it for a ludicrous amount of time, not thinking about anything in particular.

the rickety trolley is semi-packed with civilians, none of whom regard his presence with anything more than a noncommittal glance. good—that makes his job ten times easier. to his chagrin, it runs over more than a few opposing train tracks or crudely paved bumps in the road, and this causes the whole cart to jostle before stilling completely, the process repeating itself over and over.

the knowledge that his trip to the outskirts of town is a short one is the only thing that calms his nerves.

when dabi finally arrives at his destination, the sun is gradually descending from its peak in the sky, and the clouds are more like wispy tufts than the luscious, cotton candy lumps they were just hours earlier. overhead, the baby blue hues turn to shades of opal; a forewarning of rain. the feelings of irritation and malice from earlier are still bound to him like chains that threaten to snap him in half when drawn too tight. the crippling weight causes his feet to drag along the gravel path at a sluggish pace, his own hot breaths fanning against his face from behind the mask. if anyone actually lived out here and they were to see him, their first impression would be that a living corpse had just waltzed onto their property. it was just his luck, then, that you were the only person out here, and by extent, the only one not deterred by his appearance.

even so, dabi's mind kicks into gear. was this a good idea? he doesn't even know why he came here—he just needed a place to blow off steam and his body had already made the choice on its own. this isn't any different from all the other times, though, and he can't ignore the fact when it sits in the pit of his stomach like an anchor. you're always the first person he goes to at times like these (dabi subconsciously rules out the man working at the local 7/11 who sells his liquor cheap, though he's still appreciative of the bottle to numb his thoughts). that tells him more than he wants to know.

your house is quaint, like those old country cottages he sometimes sees pictures of, and squats on a large, grassy mound of earth surrounded by heaps of rocks and sand from the neighboring beach. it merges with a towering lighthouse, and dabi notes that there must not be any sailors due to make port yet, otherwise the light would be on. the second thing he takes in are the flowerbeds sitting under your two front windows, and how they look withered and close to death.

"i wanted to add some color, but i can't keep plants alive for shit." you had said, huffing in amusement to yourself as you tended to the weeping alliums. "succulents are the only exception."

a small pot of them sits on the windowsill, but they seem to have gotten to big for it; the rubbery leaves spilling over the cracked rim. he hardly registers how much of a stalker he must look like until he stands on your welcome mat, peering through the dirty glass panes to find you nowhere in sight. the lights aren't on, so he can only see the outlines of furniture when bands of light stream in to reveal them.

sitting back on the balls of his feet, dabi curses under his breath. it's not like he was expecting anything. how was he supposed to know whether or not you were home when you had no way of telling him?

"jesus, patch!" a shout startles him from his brooding, but he doesn't let it show as he looks towards to ocean. you're hauling yourself over a large rock to wave him over, wearing a familiar grin. so that's why he couldn't see you. dabi makes careful work of leaping over jagged stones and threatening to bake any nosy seagulls as he makes his way to where you sit, with your favored instrument slung over your shoulder. the ghost of a smile graces his lips when he recalls how you would have scolded him for being mean to the birds, but that was before last week.

"pesky fucking bastards—they keep shitting on my music sheets!" another seagull waddles into your vicinity, only to squawk in distress as you shoo it away with your foot. "i wonder if this is natures way of telling me to quit while i'm behind. . ."

after breaching the treacherous terrain and nearly scraping himself in the process, dabi squats on the stone beside yours, looking up at you with hooded eyes. you meet his gaze with nothing short of merriment and a shake of your head.

"if someone had seen you, you would have been arrested on the spot for being a peeping tom." you chuckle, combing a hand through your hair with a smirk. "what? you lookin' you catch me in the nude or something?"

dabi scowls, choosing to ignore the question rather than give into the bait. as if i would be satisfied by looking at anyone but you in that state. he swats the air as if it would drive the notion from his mind like a bothersome fly.

"in the middle of fuck-ass nowhere? i'd never get caught."

"aw, don't be like that. if you really wanted a peek you could've just asked." the mocking tone in your voice spurs him to smack your thigh, which earns a hearty laugh in reply.

"ooh, don't treat me so roughly, or i might begin to like it!"

dabi has had more than enough experience with your flirtatious tendencies, and he feels he should have gotten used to it by now, but his heart still clenches every damn time. the worse part? he can't say that he minds. you don't give him a chance to respond, but dabi hasn't a clue what he would have said, so he lets you continue, watching intently as you rifle through your bag to fish out a guitar pick. shifting into a crisscross position, you perch the guitar on your lap and begin tuning the strings, idly talking about how uneventful the past days have been. dabi pretends not to have heard that it was because he wasn't there to visit, and instead gives his attention to the lighthouse in hopes that you won't see the faintest of reds dusting his ears.

five minutes pass before you actually start playing, and even then, it's only a few experimental notes here and there that help you build towards the perfected melody.

it's too sweet for his taste; dabi swears that's why his stomach turns so ferociously and prompts him to lean against the boulder to his right for some sort of stability. he won't even humor the idea that it's because of the way your lips twitch into a near half-smile before melding back into a concentrated frown the moment you strike a wrong cord. an embarrassed flush captures your cheeks as you study the music sheets, briefly pressing down on them when a sudden breeze flutters the pages. the pencil that was once tucked behind your ear now sticks out from one corner of your mouth, a flash of pink and orange melding together when you go to absentmindedly gnaw on the wood.

many more minutes fly by, and you've long since abandoned the new tune just to pick up an old one. dabi's back straightens at the first set of strings you pluck, and he recognizes them as the same ones that have been playing on repeat in his head since the day you met.

dabi's heart hammers in tune with every footfall that slaps against the pavement, tearing through the small pools of water that grow with every second. it hasn't stopped raining since the chase began, and there isn't an inch of him that hasn't been soaked through. still, something good must come from this little dilemma—the burning sensation that clings to his arms has almost settled down. the silhouettes of trees merge with inky blackness when he blinks, and he reaches with trembling hands to wipe the droplets of water clinging to his eyelashes.

a yellow square of what assumes to be light shines in the distance, contrasting wildly adverse to the darkness that sweeps him up from under his feet and pushes him forward. the sound of police sirens has been reduced to a mere memory in the time that was running, but he isn't about to risk going back to the league's base in fear of a stakeout waiting to get the jump on them. besides, why stop there when the possibility of shelter awaits him?

the bottoms of dabi's shoes are slick with mud, and blades of grass have snuck their way under the cuffs of his jeans to scratch at his skin. the sensations paired with the numbing cold are beyond uncomfortable, but he won't have to worry about that once he gets inside—that being if the person inside doesn't put up a fight.

he'd expect them to be mad if they did anything except that, no matter how welcoming the house looked. dabi's instincts tell him that someone out this far from the city doesn't a have a lot of connections, and thus killing them wouldn't cause an uprising if it were needed, but the minute he grips the doorknob, a thought occurs. if they have a quirk, its power could level my own or even surpass it. . . he grits his teeth. but like hell i'm going to let them win.

the hesitation vanishes in an instant as dabi turns the knob and thrusts himself inside, wielding a blue flame in his dominant hand to further illuminate the room. the wind is so fierce that it pulls the door shut for him, and the villain finds himself staring down the unperturbed figure of another man, perhaps around his age, hunched over a stove and glaring at a steaming kettle. they lock gazes, and almost immediately, the kettle gives a high pitched whistle. you look away first, lifting the pot and turning the burner off whilst opening the cupboard overhead to pull out two mugs, both of which adorn ugly christmas-themed patterns that dabi wishes he could forget ever seeing.

his glare hardens when you move to the table in the far corner and begin pouring what he assumes to be tea, taking one cup into your own grasp and leaving the other at his own disposal. your one mistake is grabbing your phone from the counter, but when dabi's flame enlarges, you hold your arms up in defense. then, before he can even formulate a proper threat, you toss the phone to him. he catches it easily and observes the dark screen, masking his astonishment with a more sinister expression.

the only other move you make is to drape yourself across a cushion on the window seat with an acoustic guitar in hand. you look more relaxed by the second despite being cornered by a dangerous criminal, and dabi has to refrain from voicing his shock when you address him with an almost bored tone.

"if the tea isn't to your taste, there's more in the cabinet. shower is down the hall to your left, and there's a spare bedroom upstairs to the right. do whatever the hell you want, just don't burn the place down or touch my freddie mercury records."

dabi is stuck to the spot for one of three reasons, he determines. one, your attitude has surprised him into a stupor that not even hiw own will can break. two, his refusal to believe that you're handling this situation in a calm manner is really just his defense mechanism kicking in, and he won't move until proven that you won't do anything when his back is turned. and three, you're quirk is similar to that of madusa's and you've successfully turned him into a fleshy mannequin.

"if you're worried about me calling the cops, what you're holding is the only working phone here. the power is out due to the storm, so my landline is dead, and the nearest form of help is a crippled old widow five miles west. i'm not going to risk running when i'm up against someone with a quirk."

dabi considers everything said, but never once allows his fire to dim. he took the surrounding area into account while making his escape, and he can see the landline is in fact out of service, so the male's assurances checked out. hell, the light source that guided him here was nothing but an old-timey oil lamp. the fact that you're quirkless does him a great amount of good as well.

with cautious steps, dabi makes a beeline for the bathroom, but he stops halfway to stare at you again. you respond by quirking a brow and kicking your feet up, something akin to mischief in your guise.

"i can take the shower with you since you're so afraid i'll make a break for it." you drawl, and dabi snarls, a fowl cuss bubbling in his throat as heat crawls its way up his neck.

"why, with a blush like that you might not need any drying off~."

dabi decides that he's had enough and storms down the hall, already peeling off his dripping clothes and and silently promising that he'll burn the guy to a crisp if he so much as tries to catch a peek. he can hear you calling out in hilarity even as he slinks into the shower and attempts to drown you out with the static-filled haze that captures his senses.

"the name's, y/n, by the way!"

try as he might, dabi had never been able to keep from coming back. now the reason why has been revealed to him on a silver platter, and he won't even spare it a glance.

your soft singing snaps him from his reminiscing as he stretches his legs, stifling a groan when something pops as not to disturb you. while digging through his pockets for a cigarette, he stops momentarily for fear of forgetting how to breathe when he lays his sights on you. you're in your own little world; everything else—him included— seems to have disappeared as you play from the heart. you need no standing ovation, no adoring fans or fantastic lightshows. you've said it once, that fame and glory mean nothing to you, and that you have all you could ever want or need right here, nestled in the beachside view of what you call home.

"and i have you." a cool breeze ruffles your dirt stained overalls as you reach up to wipe a bead of sweat from your forehead. the sun beats down on you, never shining half as bright as your smile, and the shore kisses the boulders with waxing and waning waves of aquamarine; frothy, foamy masses washing up with it to carry lone strands of seaweed. "otherwise i'd go mad without your company."

okay, that was lie. the truth is right there, practically spitting in his face how much of an idiot he is for trying to deny it, and dabi is glaring right back at it. he feels like an impatient kid on christmas eve, sneaking glimpses of gifts under the tree and feeling like he's committed a felony after getting caught. and you do catch him.

"penny for your thoughts, patch?" there it is—that stupid nickname. it's always been laced with mirth when you call him as such, but now it's replaced by genuine curiosity. and is that a hit of concern he hears? you study him with pursed lips and stony features that gradually morphs into that of concern when the silence stretches on. dabi forces himself to sneer at you, and something stirs inside his chest when you don't flinch.

he hates it. he hates you.

dabi nods to the sky, a guarded noise building in the back of his throat as he tugs on his earlobe.

"s'gonna rain." your jaw visibly clenches, but you humor his evasive habits just like you always have, looking to the clouds, which have darkened considerably in the last hour or so. it's around this time that the weather patterns become more unpredictable, but you've noticed the distinct lack of rainfall in spite of the gathering storm brewing overhead. you could sit out here for a while longer without much activity in the sky, and it would take more than a little shower to drive you inside, especially when you finally had the chance to enjoy some quality time with dabi. you notice the way his shoulders droop and the tension from his facial muscles all but disappears when he sits amidst the smell of fresh salt water and unpolluted air—the weight of his past slowly but surely ebbing away. you'd like to hope you have some part in that. oh god, do you ever hope.

you plead to whatever omnipresent being above that he's not just here to hit a blunt without getting reprimanded for it, or that he's making these daily visits out of pity.

"nah. it's been like this for a little while—looks like a storm will hit, but then it passes before it even begins." you sling the guitar back over your shoulder and gather up your music sheets, eyeing dabi from your perch. you're challenging him now, and normally you would never dare force him to speak if he didn't want to, but something about his aura is off. you can sense it in his words; the very air he breathes; and it compels you to hold him close, if only he would let you.

"so, you gonna tell me why you're avoiding the ques—" a deep rumble interrupts you, and dabi lets out a sigh of relief that you're thankfully too distracted to hear. a single drop of water hits your nose, followed by another, and another, and—

"you were saying?"

"oh shut it." you don't get to finish speaking, for a crack of lightning strikes the far end of the beach, scattering sand in every direction. you just barely manage to scoop up your belongings before sliding from the rock, but your footing betrays you and send you stumbling to the ground. dabi is there to catch you, wasting no more time in hauling you to your feet and rushing you as carefully as possible through the jagged maze. he can't refrain from smiling when you splutter a string of profanities pass poorly hidden laughter, an unmistakable "FUCK ME!" spilling into the cold evening when you accidentally stub your toe on a particularly sharp stone. it's pouring within seconds, and no sooner do you reach the doorstep do you both realize how sopping wet you are.

the last thing you think of is your chattering teeth, however, when you see dabi's spiky tufts of hair dripping with residue and his electric blue eyes gazing into yours. what you do think is that for the first time in your painfully ordinary life; your twenty three years of mediocrity and progressive isolation from the world around you; you have found the single person who understands your struggles and has chosen—for some unfathomable reason—not to abandon you. you wish you could say your parents were the same, but you also have scars from a distant childhood that brought you to this place.

this old lighthouse is your home, yes, but dabi is your sanctuary. he might as well be a god by how often you worship him from afar, wondering if ever you'd be so lucky; so eternally blessed; as to call him yours.

you don't register that he's opened the door to let you both inside until a cozy warmth envelopes you. no, wait, that's dabi's fire. it should terrify you that the same man who threatened you with those flames is now at arms length, but you trust him not to hurt you in any way, and so you lean into the gentle licking of heat on your skin, humming in content as your shivering comes to a halt.

dabi's fear of burning you diminishes when you flash him a grateful smile, a whisper of thanks echoing across the walls and pummeling his heart without resistance. he averts his eyes with a curt nod, a feeling like molasses weighing down his tongue and drowning the words he wants to say.

"you're welcome." is all he can muster.

half an hour later, your guitar is drying by the hearth and the two of you are huddled on the window seat, nursing cups of coffee and watching the storm in a comfortable silence. you haven't blinked in a while, meaning you've wandered off the tracks of consciousness as suspected, and pretty soon, you start singing quietly to yourself; the deep crooning used as background noise to your aimless meditation. dabi nudges your calf with his foot and is rewarded with a brief quirk of your lips and a nudge back. he doesn't have the patience nor the brain power to decipher how long this goes on for, but it doesn't matter.

this is fine. the image of red hair and a tall, intimidating figure invades his train of thought, and dabi curls inwards on himself. this is fine.

but it's not.

trembling, he places his mug on the table before retracting back into his seat, clasping his hands together. he tries visualizing the ties of his life coming together to form a rope. the fingers on his left—memories from his past—linking together with those from his right—memories made with you. his palms connect, bringing instant relief with the knowledge that he's here now, practically nestled between your legs, out of harms way. you're both fine.

dabi takes the swelling anxiety and pretends to crush it within his fist; clenching and unclenching it until his peace of mind returns.

"penny for your thoughts, patch?" you ask again, still in somewhat of a trance. this time, dabi answers.

"why do you call me that?"

you're caught of guard, half expecting him to ask why you haven't turned him in to the authorities. you've seen him without his disguise, you know his name, and for the past eight months you've been socializing with him like normal human beings do. that's more than both of you could have said in the past. of all the burning questions, he chose that one? "i've heard 'patchwork' and 'staples' and just about everything in between. why shorten it to patch?"

you gape at him, opening your mouth, then closing it, and so on. the pitter patter of rain against the window has ascended into relentless pelting. it sounds like gunfire to dabi; assaulting his ears in floods; but to you, it's nothing more than a waterfall hindering your view of the ocean. the deep breath you take seems to put more suspense in the atmosphere than needed, and it makes dabi's heartrate quicken for an entirely different reason, yet he makes no sign of stopping you.

"because my first thought whenever i see you is how much you remind me of a doll." oh. what?

you can tell by dabi's reaction that that wasn't what he was expecting, so you gesture for him to wait. he isn't sure he likes the forlorn expression you're wearing.

"typically, when kids first get a doll, they treat it like glass and make sure to tend to it with love. other times, doll owners are reckless and tear them apart just to stitch them back together like nothing happened. you use that camouflaged to blend in with the public, and i'm lucky enough to see what's under it. . .but sometimes i wish you'd keep the mask on so i don't have to see you upset."

upset? a fizzing sound erupts from his palms that he struggles to put out. he's not upset.

"don't try to hide it. you're always scowling when you think i'm not looking, or when you forget i'm even here, and i know it's because someone broke you without the intent of fixing you up."

once more, red clouds dabi's vision, and he moves to stand up.

"you had to clean up after their mistakes because no one else would, but instead of reusing the bits and pieces of your old self, you burned them. you destroyed any and all evidence of who you used to be and now you're patching yourself together with parts that aren't your own, because you don't want to hold onto what happened. though, something tells me you still haven't let go, otherwise you wouldn't be so angry."

"you don't know that!" he snaps, but he knows it's not true.

your hand closes around his wrist, and dabi recoils with such strength that it yanks you from your seat. dabi doesn't want you to let go, no matter how much he thrashes in place, because the sensation of your skin on his grounds him. somehow you know this, and you give a comforting squeeze to his pulse.

"but that's not all i see. because dolls are beautiful, and it's the ones who still love them after they're broken that they need the most. no one's told you they think you're beautiful, have they?"

dabi shakes his head, refusing to meet your gaze even when you cup his cheek with your free hand tilt it towards you. every touch is filled with hesitancy; feather light and more intimate than anything dabi has ever witnessed, let alone experienced personally. with the way you hold him like he's water in your hands, your eyes overflowing with a love he hasn't known in forever, dabi knows he won't find another feeling like it. you're not the embodiment of good—at least not by society's strict standards—but at least you can sit there and say you've committed a crime. you've never bloodied your hands by hurting others, much less gotten a thrill from doing so, and that's why he pulls away. he has to, because dabi is a harbinger of war, and if he holds you any closer it will only be to kill you.

he says something; a snarl mixed with a broken plea that he prays will make you stop; and you do. his silent victory doesn't last for long, though, because then you're using both hands to cradle his face and fuck, the pads of your thumbs grazing his scars feel like heaven. "won't you let me be the first?" how could he say no? how, when the taste of honey and whiskey is so addictive that he's already drooling into the kiss and willing to beg for more; when your mouth slots perfectly with his and dabi begins to wonder if he's stumbled right into the scene of a cliché wattpad story. the idea causes him to huff out a growl, and although neither of you can talk, he can imagine how strongly you must want to poke fun at him for the action. he can feel you smirking—the smug little bastard you are—and dabi ponders how long it will take to reduce that attitude of yours until you're submitting to him.

not yet. he chastises himself, completely unaware that you're currently thinking the same thing. dabi kneads the flesh of your hips through your jeans while you comb your fingers through his hair, gasping sharply between bruising, wet kisses and keening when he leans down to nurse your lips with soft pecks afterword. you're still trying to process the fact that you've coerced this devious criminal into making out with you in the pale glow of your seaside residence, but for the moment, you need not concern yourself with the details. you've forgotten all about dabi's ego and how this whole situation is no doubt feeding its flames. his grip on your waist is making you too delirious to care.

"fuck." dabi's breath is staggering when you finally pull back, an aura of clarity and desire hanging between the two of you.

"y-yeah. . .that was. . ." you can't produce a word, or even a paragraph to describe it. you know you're going to hit yourself later for admitting such a banal phrase in the midst of what could be classified as your very first kiss, but that is neither here nor there, and you would rather suffer an agonizing death than let dabi find out that he stole your first. you're too preoccupied envisioning all the other firsts to come, so you don't notice the way he stares at you like some precious jewel, but his fingertips brushing your bottom lip succeed in snapping you out of it.

"hm?"

dabi goes quiet, contemplating what to say as the thunder moves abroad and the rain comes to an end, leaving the house in a numbing state of tranquility.

"why not call me doll, then? it'd be easier."

you chuckle in response, playing with the hairs at the base of dabi's neck and making sure not to miss the way he melts into the affection. "i thought that'd be moving too fast." and dabi; still drugged from your kiss and what he can only hope is love; rasps out a genuine laugh, cupping your jaw with a tenderness that makes your knees weak.

"you offered to take a shower with me the night we met, and you think a nickname is moving too fast?"

you stick your tongue out at him, and dabi resists the urge to grab it, even if it's just a bluff.

"would you have let me call you that anyways?" you ask, something hopeful ridden in your tone. dabi feigns consideration as he looks to the ceiling, snickering when you smack his chest. eventually, he murmurs what you audibly hear as "brat" before resting his forehead on yours, an impish glint in his gaze.

"no."

you turn your chin up at him, giggling when he nips at the skin. dabi knows just as well that your attempts at escaping him are halfhearted, so he encircles his arms around your waist tighter, delighting in the flush that paints your cheeks.

"then i think i'll settle for my love, or darling, if that's alright with you."

dabi can't fend off the blush for his life, but he's not afraid if you acknowledge it. he can get you back easily, and he plans to. "fine by me, doll."

[kwinsispn3]

Souless Sam

anon asked: girlieeeee i got sumn gooood shit for u aight, can you do a sisfic during when sam lost his soul BUT like for some reason he still cared about you some how and still protective over you like he was before he lost soul? if this makes sense!!

Word Count: 1,998

summary: sister!winchester gets captured on a hunt and Sam shows that he still worries about his little sis, even without a soul.

Y/N’s POV

So, Sam lost his soul. At first it was really strange, and it still is. Sam has always been my empathetic, awkward, goofy older brother. His personality without a soul was so much different than the real Sam, and I didn’t like it. Souless Sam was cocky and careless, and for a while, I thought he could care less about me and Dean. Until one hunt gave me a little bit of hope. 

Dean was excited for this hunt because he was getting a little annoyed with Sam lately. He acted like he wanted nothing to do with hunts and just went off doing who knows what. Dean could also see that souless Sam was starting to affect me. I missed my big brother so much, Dean hadn't found new leads or thought of any plans that could get it back anytime soon. So for now, I knew we were stuck with how he was.

“Are we going or what?” Sam sassed.

“Can you at least try to act the least bit invested.” Dean snarked.

I walked in with the last couple of things that Dean asked for. “Thanks sweetheart.”

We packed the car and drove to the location where the last crime was reported. Searching the property, none of us found anything. It was quiet, which meant that something or someone was hiding, watching us. I followed closely behind Sam and Dean, when I heard a noise.

“Did you guys hear that?” I whispered, looking behind me. 

“Nope.” Dean brushed if off, thinking I was just hearing things.

I stopped when I heard the noise again. It sounded like a creak of a door towards the back of the house. Looking back, I saw that Sam and Dean hadn’t noticed I fell behind and kept walking. As I started walking to catch up with them, something grabbed me from behind and put a hand over my mouth. I tried to scream to alert my brothers but whoever grabbed me, dragged me in the other direction. I tried fighting back the entire time I was being dragged, until the person shoved me into a chair and bonded my wrists and ankles with rope.

“DEAN!” I shouted as loud as I could before I was gagged. 

“What did I just do.... All because I was distracted, I got caught. Dean is gonna be pissed that I wasn’t paying attention and got myself into this mess.” Was all I could think in that moment, besides the fact that I was face to face with the bad guy. 

The guy that took me stood in front of the chair I sat in. Looking at me, he took his phone out of his pocket and dialed someone.

“Hey. Tell him we got one of them.” 

...................

Dean’s POV

Sam and I were walking around some more until I turned around and didn’t see any sign of Y/N.

“Where’s Y/N?” I said as I turned to Sam.

“Who knows....” He shrugged. I had just about enough of Sam’s attitude, soul or not. I sighed and walked back in the other direction to look for her. For all I knew, she could’ve been taken by something nearby. Sam followed me and acted like he was looking for Y/N. 

We walked into the house, which ended up being dark and empty. “They have to have some hideout somewhere...” I said, looking around to see if there was any doorhandles or whatever.

“I think I heard someone talking.” Sam said as he pointed in another direction. 

“How do you have that good of hearing?” I was skeptical, thinking Sam was just saying stuff.

“No, I’m serious. That’s the way that we last saw Y/N anyway.....” Sam said. 

“Well, I guess we can take a chance and go look.” I said as I gathered myself.

...................

Y/N’s POV

After the one guy made the phone call, three other men showed up. I could tell one of them was getting too excited, since I saw teeth..... confirming that they were vamps. One of the other guys wheeled over a table with a bunch of tools on it.

“This one looks nice.” One of them said in a really creepy way.

“I can tell she’s gonna taste real good.” Another one added. Normally I wasn’t too intimidated by monsters, since I’ve seen my fair share. But some of them were just hands down creepy. The first guy that dragged me came over and kneeled down.

“Anything you wanna say?” He laughed, taking the gag out of my mouth.

“Nice dentures, dipshit.” I said. His face turned red and he raised his fist and collided it with my cheek.

“Alright, let’s just get this over with.” He said as he went over to the table next to me. He hung a blood bag on a pole above my head and rolled up my sleeve. Now I knew what their plan was, I was gonna have my blood drained.... great.

He put a rubber band around my arm and tied it tight. I cringed as he stuck a needle in my arm and watched my blood go out through a tube. “Now we’re talking.” The guy smiled.

The four of them joked and laughed about a few things and talked about what they were going to do with you, then left the room. I tried to get my one arm out of ropes so I could stop my blood from leaving my body. After trying countless amounts of times, I just sat there and hoped Dean had noticed I was gone.

After the first blood bag filled up, the one guy came back in and switched it out for a fresh one. I was starting to feel light headed which was not a good sign. My instinct to fight was still there, but the dizziness started to take over and I ended up passing out. That’s the last thing I remember.

...................

Dean’s POV

We had found a cellar that was a tucked away in the house towards the back. That’s when I started to hear more noise, and some voices. This had to be where they took Y/N. 

Sam was behind me, I broke the heavy lock that was on the door and opened it as quiet as I could. We snuck down the creaky stairs that led to a hallway. There was a group of voices that were circling one area which led to a room. 

“I’m gonna peek in here and see how many of them there are. Go find Y/N. If there are too many, I’ll call you.” I told Sam as I kicked the door in. There were four guys that stood there in shock. Sam saw that there wasn’t that many and went off to get Y/N. 

...................

Y/N’s POV

I was in and out of consciousness at this point, from losing all of that blood. I heard some commotion coming from the other room. There was a lot of pounding and banging on the walls. I heard creaking of a door and opened my eyes slightly to see a tall figure. I thought it was one of the vamps until they came close enough to my face for me to recognize them. It was Sam.....

He kneeled down in front of me and cut the ropes off my wrists. He took the needle of my arm and tossed it aside. “Y/N?” He tried to get my attention. I hadn’t heard Sam sound this worried in a while, he almost sounded like himself, like he cared.

“Sammy...” I said weakly.

“How much blood did they take from you?” He asked.

“I dunno, like th-three pints.” I said, not really remembering how much they took.

One of the guys Dean was fighting managed to get away. He made the mistake of running into the other room where you and Sam were. Dean ran up behind him. “Sam! Heads up!.” Dean alerted. Sam turned around and clocked the guy in the head. He grabbed him by the shirt and lifted him off the ground.

“If you, or your other pathetic slugs ever try and touch my sister again. That’s the last thing you’ll ever do.” Sam spat. 

He threw him back on the floor, Dean went and dragged him out of the room to take care of him, just so I didn’t have to see it. Sam looked back at me and lifted me up. “We’re gonna get you home, kid.” Sam said gently. 

He carried you out of the cellar and to the car. Dean followed behind after he made sure the place was clear. “Hey, she okay?” Dean asked, rushing over.

“Yeah, she’s a little out of it. Tried to drain her blood, they almost did.” Sam explained.

“Let’s get her home, I think she’ll be okay, she needs rest.” Dean said as Sam placed you in the car.

As soon as I felt the leather seats in the back of the impala, I laid my head down and immediately fell asleep.

...................

When I woke up, I was in my bed. I felt so much pressure in my head, like it was about to explode. As I tried to sit up, it felt worse. I almost fell over as I tried to reach into my nightstand drawer for some ibuprofen. I stood up and held onto the wall as I walked to my bathroom for some water. That’s when Dean walked in and saw me standing.

“What are you doing?” He asked surprised.

“Getting some water.” My voice croaked. Dean helped me walk back into bed.

“How long was I asleep?” I asked.

“Almost two days. You started breathing weird at some point, it was freaking me out.” Dean said.

“Sorry, next time I’ll try to just lay there and not move.” I joked.

“You really worried me.” Dean spoke.

“I’m really sorry. I just got sidetracked because I thought I heard something and I just wanted to see if I saw anything, but obviously that didn’t end well.” I trailed off, not sure what kind of mood Dean was in.

“Look, I should've listen to you, we could've gone and checked it out together. Just don’t worry about it, can’t change what happened. Glad you're okay, kid.”

I was really surprised with how Dean was acting towards the situation. Even if I ever was injured, he would always have something to say about how I needed to be more careful. I took the opportunity to tell him what I thought about Sam.

“How’s Sam?” I asked.

“Fine, he’s in the library. Why?” Dean asked, wondering why you had a sudden interest in what Sam was doing.

“Have you found anything else out about his soul? He seemed different, on the hunt... He seemed like he actually cared about me. I haven’t seen him like that in a while, and I know he still doesn’t have a soul and that I should be careful. But when he found me and talked to me, it seemed like the real Sam.” I explained.

“I don’t know, sweetheart. I mean he is still Sam in there somewhere, but we can’t know for sure.” Dean said. 

Sam walked up and stood outside the door when he heard me. He listened for a while until we moved on to a different subject, then he knocked.

“Hey, good to see you’re awake.” Sam said a little awkwardly as he just popped in to see you. I nodded and smiled.

“Sam, thanks.” I told him before he left the room. He nodded as he left.

I didn’t know what happened back there with Sam acting like himself. I didn’t even know if there was a possibility of getting his soul back. But he was still my brother and I wanted to have hope that I could get him back. So I hung on to that little moment, that little piece that would make us want to get Sam back.

Requests Are Closed

Taglist:

@jackjackljaqui ​@hunting-the-grievers @susan-is-in-the-house@flirtyonsie @mersuperwholocked-lowlife @justsomedreaming

[magnoliabloomfield]

Possession Part 10

This one is super long, it got away from me, but i don't think any of you will mind lol. Expand for story time.

Gally sat in the gathering hall, his heel bouncing against the dirt floor. As everyone settled in, Newt gave him a glance that put most of his nerves at ease, and for good reason. Once the discussion started it was clear that Alby had already decided that she was to be a Keeper in her own right. Some confusion and groans went around the others but Alby put a fast stop to them, explaining it was the only way to uphold the one rule about her and everything else Gally had said to Newt. He was glad he wasn’t the one trying to convince anyone or having to take credit for the idea.

The only thing left to settle was what she would be a keeper of. They decided to go around to each keeper and see what they had observed about her.

“Gally, you worked with her first, what do you think?” Alby started off with him.

Gally crossed his arms and thought for a moment, forcing his mind to other things than when her eyes softened as she looked at him. “She’s good at following direction,” he started out and earned a nod from every other keeper who had worked with her as well. “If you don’t give her something to do she will just find something to do. When there was nothing left she could do on the building project she went around giving everyone water and wet rags to keep cool. So, she’s not lazy and she has a fair bit of common sense. Plus, being smaller she can help with things no one else can get to.”

“I bet you wish you could be her keeper then,” Zart spoke up out of turn, earning a furrowed glare from Gally that made him backpedal quickly. “Just because of how helpful she seems to be to the building team.”

Gally would never even hint that he wouldn't have minded being her keeper, that he was the only one he trusted to take care of her right. But those feelings were just another confirmation that she should be her own keeper.

“She did well in the medhut, but she admitted that she might not be able to handle some of the worse things that come through there,” Clint spoke up next. “But she is good at organizing, she transformed the storage and it’s totally easier to find things now. If possible I’d like to have her rewrite the notes we took on treating injuries because her hand writing is so much better than mine or Jeff’s, just throwing that out there.”

“She was good at the smaller tasks in the garden,” Zart said. “But she’s not so good at the more difficult physical tasks.”

“I think that’ll be a common thread, nothing heavily physical I should think,” Newt tacked on out of turn.

“I don’t have anything bad to say about her,” Fry started up. “But she just wasn’t fast enough in the kitchen. But to be fair, no one ever is on their first day. It takes a while to learn muscle memory and I just don’t have that kind of time when all of you are counting on me to get you fed day in and day out.”

Gally lightly gripped his chin in thought. There was something similar in everything they were saying, there was some common thread.

“You have an idea Gally?” Newt asked, breaking him from his trance.

“Well, it sounds like, in one way or another, everyone would agree her attention to detail is very good,” Gally mused aloud, not focusing on anyone just yet as he continued to think. “It’s like we all could use her help in certain situations but not necessarily all the time. So… maybe she could be the keeper of odd jobs? She could organize whatever needs organized, she can write down what needs written, she can assist whenever we need someone small, or whenever something intricate or tedious needs done and we can’t spare someone able bodied for it. She could help us all while not belonging to anyone.”

“The Keeper of Odd Jobs?” Shawn repeated incredulously. The Keeper of the baggers was never one to go with the flow. “Why don’t we just make her the Keeper of the Laundry?”

“Laundry is the slopper’s job and it takes more than one person to do,” Alby pointed out. “Unless you want to make her keeper of the sloppers. I don’t know if the little punks would hate answering to a girl or love it.”

“She needs to be the keeper of herself, and then any other girls who may or may not show up,” Gally dared to add.

“Well, let her go off and do whatever she feels like then, why does she have to be a keeper?” Shawn went on complaining.

“Because the keepers decide what happens in the glade,” Alby said with an edge to his voice. “Those decisions effect her now so she should get a say in them, she should have her perspective heard.”

Nikola was surprised when the gathering broke up and no one came to talk to her about her assignment. Even if Alby didn’t come and inform her she figured whoever it was would be excited enough to come tell her himself. Except for Gally. She felt a hopeful little jump in her chest that she was going to be a builder. She knew Gally would do right by her, protect her and be kind enough to her without being creepy. But he wouldn’t be bursting at the seams happy to tell her either.

As she was in line getting dinner that evening, still thinking about her assignment, she felt a presence looming up on her.

“Hey,” Gally’s voice called out to her as he came up from behind.

She felt another jolt, thinking this was finally it, he was coming to tell her he really was her keeper.

“You’ll want to stick around for this meal, Newt is saving a seat for you,” was all he said before walking off to his own table.

Nikola was left standing there in confusion, not expecting that. She also felt a little miffed that he wasn’t saving a seat for her himself, but expected her to go sit with Newt. Nevertheless she followed his instruction and awkwardly sat beside Newt at a table with Zart and Alby himself.

“Hey,” she greeted them blandly. “I heard you were saving a seat for me here, what’s up?”

“We have a special announcement to make and it has to do with you,” Newt started explaining with an amused smirk. “We wanted to make sure you were around to hear it since you seem to get antisocial at meal times.”

Nikola couldn’t help the small furrow in her brow from confusion. She didn’t care about his jab at her not sticking around for meals and didn’t bother explaining that’s the only time she could hear herself think, she just wondered what this announcement was. She looked around, trying to spot Gally as if just seeing him would bring her some comfort. She didn’t manage to catch sight before Alby stood up and addressed the gladers.

“Now that everyone’s here, I want to announce what the council decided on for the latest greenie, Nikola,” he shouted and earned everyone’s attention as the chatter fell to a silence. However, when he mentioned Nikola a few whoops and wolf whistles were heard. “Shut up you shanks,” Alby chastised them. “Because she’s the newest Keeper.”

Nikola couldn’t keep the shock off her face, but her surprise turned sour rather quickly as the announcement was met with a silence that bubbled to a murmur around her.

“I know you might be confused by this,” Alby acknowledged them. “But you’re not going to put up a fuss about it, and you’re certainly not going to give Nikola any clunk about either. It was the council’s decision and she never asked for it. We made her a keeper so she can lead any other girls that might show up in the future, and now that we have girl living here and sharing our glade with us, her voice should be heard about what goes on here.”

Nikola started to think that made a lot of sense and definitely liked that they were willing to listen to her and let her have a say in what went on there. But Alby wasn’t done.

“Besides all that, it was the only way to make sure we didn’t break the new rule,” He added, making Nikola’s brows furrow in confusion. What new rule had they made about her?

“She doesn’t belong to anybody.”

Nikola felt the blood rush to her face. She felt angry, but she wasn’t sure why. It was actually ideal, she couldn’t be ordered around by one keeper, she wasn’t being treated like an object or property, but there was something alienating about it too. It was a very complex situation and so were her emotions about it.

“What does that mean?” she whispered to Newt as Alby said a few last words to cement the whole thing and draw the announcement to a conclusion. “That I don’t belong to anybody?”

Newt shifted uncomfortably and cleared his throat. “Well, uh, you’re the first girl anyone here has seen for as long as they can remember. But there’s only one of you and dozens of them. We were afraid it would cause some problems if, uh…”

“I had some kind of… exclusive relationship with someone?” she pressed.

“Yeah,” Newt sighed in relief because he didn’t have to try and say it himself.

She turned away with a sigh of her own as she looked out on the grassy meadow of the glade shadowed from the setting sun and camp fires. “If all of them can’t have me, none of them shall. That kind of deal, huh?”

“If it makes you feel any better,” Alby cut in, having heard some of the conversation. “It’s not like anyone else has ever liked the living situation here-“

“And me being here just made it worse?” She cut in, staring him down with a deadened expression.

“That’s not it,” Newt leaned in, trying to smooth it over.

“Whose idea was it?” Nikola asked.

“What, the rule?” Newt asked.

“I came up with the rule the moment you arrived,” Alby admitted easily. “I’m doing my best to keep this place from falling into chaos every day, and I know you didn’t ask to be sent here, but you are here and that’s going to present new problems I have to work hard to overcome whether everyone likes it or not.”

Nikola understood where he was coming from but it didn’t make her feel very good. In fact, she was pretty sure she was going to cry. She hadn’t done that yet, she’d been too busy or had other things on her mind. She pressed her lips together and pushed back from the table.

“It was Gally,” Newt said quickly before she could get up and leave.

She looked at him, her tears put on temporary hold.

“Gally suggested you be a keeper so no one could act like they owned you and you’d have a voice on the council,” he elaborated.

That was a whole new thing to try and process, so she got up, leaving them and the rest of her dinner behind, and headed to her prison tower. As safe and kindly built as it was, it just further isolated her. The worst kind of isolation was not being alone, but being surrounded with people you either couldn’t trust or couldn’t get close to. She realized that’s the kind of isolation she was in. Sure, she didn’t want to belong to someone the way an animal or object belongs to a person, but she wanted to feel like she belonged in the world, even one as small and messed up as this one.

“Nikola,” a gruff voice called after her when she was halfway to her house.

She closed her eyes at having been caught, at having to interact with someone when she needed to go off and feel her feelings. As her eyes closed, she felt tears fall. She hadn't realized it had started already. She stayed there with her back turned to them and hoped they would just talk and make it quick.

“What’s wrong?” She recognized Gally’s voice drawing up cautiously behind her and it felt like a fist wrapped around her heart, and extra squeeze of sadness came over her that she wasn’t expecting. “Nikola?”

“Nothing,” she lied as she crossed her arms, trying to play off how thick her voice sounded from the held back tears.

But he had rounded her to her side and she looked at him. It was a bit of a surprise to see the biggest, toughest guy look like a deer in the headlights when he saw her face. She tried to hide her expression, but she couldn’t suck tears back into her eyes.

“Are you… crying?” he asked quietly.

“So what if I am?” she asked as she fiercely wiped her face. “Am I not allowed?”

He looked away and she thought she saw him ball up a fist.

“You can, I just…” he looked down and then changed his mind about finishing that sentence. “Is there something I can do?”

“I doubt it,” she said and took a step toward her house, toward her well deserved privacy to cry, but stopped. “Why did you want me to be a keeper?”

He seemed surprised that she knew that and his wide eyes quickly looked away from her again. “So you wouldn’t have to answer to anyone,” he said to his boots. “So they’d have to listen to you instead of making you listen to them. They don’t know what it’s like for a girl here, so you should get a say in the things that are going to affect your life. I thought that would be a good thing, I didn’t realize you’d be upset by it.”

“I’m not,” she blurted, not being able to take the kicked puppy act from the big guy. “It’s not that part, it was the part about not belonging to anyone.”

That caused him to lock eyes with her in confusion. “What?”

“No, I know. I know. It just,” she let out a frustrated sigh. “I get it, I’m not property or anything so I appreciate it, but there’s a whole other meaning to belonging and it feels like I’m never going to belong here in that sense when everyone can only get so close to me, you know?”

He just stared down at her like he didn’t know.

“Forget it,” she sighed as she started for her house again, somehow feeling even worse.

“No, wait a second,” he pressed, catching up to her. “I want to understand.”

Gally rarely met a problem within the Glade that he couldn’t fix. Nothing was as challenging as the girl, but he was confident that with proper effort he could do something useful.

“Do you have a best friend?” she spun on him and asked, her voice sounding different as her nose stuffed up a little from the crying. “There are some people that you’re just closer to than others, right?”

He thought of Newt and how he spent more time with him than Shawn who he didn’t like at tall. He wasn’t sure if that would qualify as being best friends though.

“Can I have a best friend here, or would that just make everyone else jealous? Is there anyone I can laugh with, is there a shoulder I’m allowed to cry on or do I have to rotate through everyone in the glade to keep it fair? I’m already the only girl which is a lonely enough thing but it feels like I’m not even- like, I’m not allowed to be human.”

Gally tried to process what she said even as the sight of her crying in front of him caused him unusual distress. He found it hard to keep his hands by his sides.

“Well, I’m here. Aren’t I?” he asked her.

Her eyes were glassy and surprised as she looked up at him, slightly hopeful.

“I don’t know if you’d think of me as best friend material, but I never walk away from people, especially the ones I can help,” he told her, his conviction in what he was saying let him hold her gaze.

She was the first one to shy away. Her head tilted down, her falling tear drops twinkling in the low light, but he thought he saw a small smile before she looked down.

“You’re right,” she nodded. “You’re not really best friend material.”

She looked up and a big grin cracked on her tear stained face, she was teasing him. He broke into a relieved grin of his own, glad she wasn’t serious, and she let out a little laugh, possibly her first one.

“I’m kidding of course,” she assured him. “You’ve been a pretty good friend so far.”

She pursed her lips as her eyes looked skyward, as if recounting all the things he’d done to earn him that commendation. She let out a heavy breath but she seemed to be feeling better than when he found her.

“Thank you, Gally. Goodnight,” she smiled softly, slightly turning toward her house again, but waiting on him.

“Goodnight,” it slipped from his lips before he could even think of restraining it, and he wasn’t upset about it when he saw her smile grow a little before she went off to her house for real that time.

He watched her go for a moment, turned to go, but looked back once more. She was on the bottom rung of her ladder taking a glance back at him as well.

Masterlist

Note about me: Hey yall! sorry for the long wait, I had Vertigo and headaches 24/7 for two weeks. They switched me to to 24 hour release Webutrin and I'm on 500mg of Salt Stick Vitasium for my POTS and that's doing the trick! I finally feel like a functioning human being again and brain can story again. I wanna keep brining you Gally fun, but I also want to get back into my original novel too, so anyone who might want to take a look at some of my own original writing and hype me up I'd appreciate it so much! let me know if you want to.

and now to make some people's notifications happy:

@gladerscake @quackquackbi @poulterjonas @crazysheeplyca @neilox @thesuitkovian @carp3d1em @cottoncandy-dreamxd @emilyhadenbaker

[raysofcrosby]

CHANCES – M. TKACHUK

requested: yes | no

warning(s): none that i can think of.

word count: 5,066

listened to: chances by the backstreet boys

inspiration: mixed luggage au [ i can’t find the og au-prompt masterlist, but if this is your au idea, lemme know and i’ll link you for credit (: ]

authors note: listen– i don’t know what it is, but i’ve literally been on a tkachuk thing lately. like, i used to despise this little curly-headed gremlin, but now??? it’s all hearteyes motherfucker. this is purely a writing to help me get back into the writing groove again after these last six months of nothing– so i might be a lil rusty. anyway, i hope you enjoy <3333

part two | google doc w/ all parts | my masterlist | stuff i have planned | who i’ll write for | requests

I’m sorry Y/N, but if you’re not here in the next 5 minutes I need to keep going.

That text haunted you– it was all you could think about the moment you got off of your flight. The uber your sister had ordered for you was close to canceling– all because there were too many planes taxiing on the airstrip and your stupid flight ended up circling in the air for thirty minutes. If this were any other airport, no doubt you’d be screwed. Luckily though, you knew good ole St. Louis Lambert International like the back of your hand. So getting from point A to point luggage claim would be no problem at all. The only delay would be the luggage getting put out onto the carousel.

Which of course, did prove to be the problem at hand.

You were the first one from your flight at the carousel and hoped to be gone before any disgruntled passengers you managed to bump into, could show up. Unfortunately for you, just as the bags were being loaded onto the carousel, your fellow passengers were arriving too– more than a few giving you a look that would normally result in you rolling your eyes in response. Yet, your focus wasn’t on them, it was glued to the small carousel door, keeping an eye out for your suitcase.

Teal bag with a grey handle. Teal bag with a grey handle. Teal bag with a grey handle. Teal bag with a grey hand–

“Ah-ha!” You smiled, catching eye of your suitcase and rushing to meet it instead of letting it eventually make its way to you. You grabbed the suitcase and extended the handle to drag it away, already walking towards the exit.

One minute.

You had one minute to catch your uber before they left you and you hoped and prayed that luck was on your side and the black Toyota Corolla just happened to be parked near the door you chose to exit from. The warm summer air of the Missouri summer weather practically smacked you in the face and it fit wasn’t for the awning covering the pick-up zone, you would have no doubt been blinded by the sun too.

“Oh, thank God,” you sighed, catching sight of a black Toyota Corolla that your sister said to find, parked just six cars down to your left. You sped walked to the uber, coming to a stop at the window and waving at the driver, catching her attention. “I’m so, so sorry I’m late.”

The woman, probably in her early 60’s gave you a friendly smile instead of the scowl you were expecting. “Are you Y/N?”

“Yes ma’am,” you replied, nodding.

“Go ahead and put your suitcase in the trunk, it’s opened for you.”

You walked to the trunk and lifted it open, placing your suitcase inside before closing it and walking to the back passenger door, getting into the backseat. “Again, I’m so sorry for making you wait. We had to circle in the air for 30 minutes because of the traffic on the airstrip and,” you exhaled, relaxing back into your seat. “I’m so sorry.”

She laughed, pulling away from the airport. “It’s no problem sweetheart. I saw your reply. I was going to give you a little extra time. I know how hectic airports could be. Especially this time of the year. Everyone’s traveling for vacation.”

“Yeah, I think I might have accidentally elbowed one too many people trying to get to luggage claim.”

“Are you visiting or coming home?”

“Coming home…kind of,” you laughed, staring out the window at your hometown. “I actually just graduated from college a few weeks ago, so my roommates and I rented a house on the Jersey Shore to celebrate. But, my sister is getting married tomorrow, so that’s why I’m back.” You looked back towards her, laughing softly to yourself. “But then come September, I’ll actually be moving to Calgary for a new job and to get my Masters.”

“So a lot of traveling, I see.”

You took a deep breath and sighed, nodding. “Yeah, but I’m glad to be able to spend all of this time with my friends and family before I start working. Especially since I’ll be moving so far away.”

“It sounds like a great time,” she smiled, looking at me through the rearview mirror. “I’m a sucker for weddings, why don’t you tell me about it?”

Normally, you weren’t one to talk a lot whenever you and your friends would take Ubers downtown on the weekends– but this driver was sweet and you found yourself talking nonstop as she drove you towards your final destination. After all, she didn’t abandon you at the airport like you thought she would.

~

The car ride to your parents' place went by a lot faster than you thought it would and it was all thanks to Mrs. Sheila, your lovely uber driver. Whom, you learned, started driving after she lost her husband late last year. Her kids lived out of state and once they went back home after those first few weeks, she wanted to find something to do to keep herself busy and get herself out of the house– so, she became an uber driver.

Walking into your parents' house, you were greeted with empty echos of your footsteps. Your parents were still at work and wouldn’t be home until just a little before the rehearsal dinner tonight. Your brother, well, as far as you knew, he had absolutely nothing going on, so you didn’t know why he wasn’t around. If anyone was guaranteed to be home, it was your sister. She was the one who ordered your uber and had them take you here, so she was more than well aware of what time you’d be arriving home.

“Hello?” You called out, leaving your suitcase by the door and making your way to the living room. “Char, are you here?”

“Is that my favorite sister?” You heard her voice call out from upstairs. Looking up, you could see her rounding the hallway corner, carrying a closed laundry basket full of, no doubt, stuff for tonight’s bridal party sleepover.

“I’m your only sister,” you laughed as she made her way down the staircase.

“Unless you count all of the times we got bored and turned Nick into Nikki,” she giggled, reaching the end of the staircase and putting the basket down before stepping forward and hugging you. “How was the flight?”

“It was great up until our 30 minutes of circling in the air,” you laughed, pulling away from the hug. “Where’s my dear brother?”

“Working out with some friends. We probably won’t see him until tonight.”

“Nothing says welcome home like being greeted to an empty house.”

“Excuse you, I was here to greet you.” She laughed, picking the basket back up. “But if you really want to be upset, you should see all of the packed boxes in your room.”

“I leave in three months! Why are they packing me up now?” You gasped, acting dramatically.

“Nick and dad are planning on transforming it into some kind of training room or something.”

“But they–“

“Already took over the garage? Yeah, I know and mom is pissed.”

You rolled your eyes, grabbing the handle of your suitcase again. “He literally told the Blues that he was going back to Michigan in the fall to try and win a championship. Why the hell are they even treating him like he’s already a hall of famer?”

“Perks of being the youngest, not to mention dad’s only son,” she laughed, looking at the door. “Ready to head to the Airbnb?”

“Can we get food first?” You asked, dragging your suitcase along. “I’m starving.”

She laughed as you held the door open for her. “Good, because we’re most definitely getting food before we go and take a nap.”

You laughed, walking out of the house with her and then closing and locking the door behind you. “I knew we were related.”

~

Lunch and a nap turned out to be exactly what you needed. The two of you had stopped at a subway to get some food before driving over to the Airbnb that you, your sister and the rest of the bridesmaids would be staying for the night.

It was a beautiful three-bedroom, modernized cottage that looked like it was stripped directly from the pages of a fairytale book. It was tucked away, just off to the side in the backyard of a beautiful colonial house, whose farm would tomorrow be transformed into a whimsical fairytale wedding location. The men would be getting ready in the house, while the women would be getting ready in the cute cottage. Sort of like a secret getaway paradise before the wedding.

When you got back with your food, your sister took you on a tour of the property while the wedding planners and staff were setting up all of the bigger decorations for tomorrow. You were off at school during the entire planning process, only ever seeing every one of her ideas in pictures. The only things you were able to take part in, were the dress shopping and her bachelorette party since they were both held at a time you were on a fall break from school. Besides being there for those two things, the only other thing you helped with– was the proposal.

Colton has been in your life for as long as you could remember. He and Charlotte have been best friends since Pre-K. It was the cliché friends to lovers kind of story that was told time after time– but in theirs, there were no other people in it. It was just them. There were no other boyfriends or girlfriends, no other crushes– from the very beginning, they were it for each other. They were each other's first everything– kiss, date, girlfriend/boyfriend, time– in their love story, they had found their one great love…all before they turned five.

Wherever Charlotte was, there was Colton– they were stuck like glue and your parents loved it. It was their friendship that brought both of your families together to the relationship that you all had now. Your families were best friends, all because of their relationship. You often took vacations together, spent holidays together, hell, you and Colton’s middle brother, Mason, even had joint birthday parties– as did your two younger siblings, Nick and Addie. Your families even try to go as far as to dropping hints that all three kids should date.

Colton and Charlotte. You and Mason. Nick and Addie– all the same age and practically family already.

It was perfect.

Until you and Mason tried to date in the tenth-grade and realized that kissing the person you’ve shared every birthday party with, used to take baths with and shared every key moment growing up– wasn’t all that great. In fact, it was weird. So the two of you remained as the almost black sheep of the families, especially since Nick and Addie were headed down the same path as Charlotte and Colton. They started dating in eighth-grade– like Colton and Charlotte– and have maintained a healthy and strong relationship to now, even long-distance, when they’ll both be sophomores in college in the fall, Addie at the University of Missouri and Nick playing hockey at the University of Michigan.

You and Mason were there, always making jokes about how it runs in the family but skipped a generation. Never letting your siblings live it down that the two of you will be the ones to break the cycle. Funny how you two were also the ones who played the biggest roles in Charlotte’s engagement.

Both of your dads are huge St. Louis Blues fans. So naturally, they tried to rub that off onto their children. And it worked, all except for you. You tolerated the blues, but never really adopted hockey as your favorite sport. You understood it, watched it whenever you never had a choice– but like your mom, you gravitated more towards football and adopted her hometown team as your own– the Pittsburgh Steelers.

Colton and Charlotte, however, were both diehard Blues fans from day one. There were even pictures to prove it. They even went to a game on both their first ‘supervised’ date and ‘unsupervised’ date. So, when the Blues were making a run for the Stanley Cup– it was imminent for your families to attend at least one game. You and Mason did everything in your power to get the Blues attention. You emailed anyone and everyone who worked in their front office, you spammed their social media accounts– anything and everything to get their attention so you could share their story and Colton’s plan.

And at game four it all came to life. Charlotte was ‘randomly’ selected to participate in an intermission event after the first period where she’d be blindfolded and needed to walk along the ice to find Louie after collecting ‘Blues momentos’ along the way. The Blues had played the short slideshow of Colton and Charlotte that you and Mason had sent them, as they introduced her to the crowd. Unbeknownst to her, both of our families were on the ice with her, standing behind her while she was blindfolded. You and the other three siblings were scattered in front of her, each holding a single rose.

The Blues staff member helped her walk along the ice and the moment that she took a flower from someone, they needed to go back to where she started, which was where Colton was standing with the ring in his pocket. The four of you each had a sign, that when held up together read ‘Will you marry me?’ Once Charlotte neared Louie, he cut the distance to just by center ice where all of you were waiting. And when she found Louie, the entire crowd had erupted into cheers as she took off her blindfold, all smiles until she turned around to see the signs and Colton on one knee.

She said yes. The Blues won. The proposal went viral and your families were given a box to game seven where the Blues won the Stanley Cup.

All in a day's work between the two middle siblings, and one that led you all to this moment– the wedding tomorrow. Where Colton, who was already like a big brother yo you, would officially, pretty much become your big brother.

“Y/N,” your sister said, shaking your arm. “Y/N, get up. We’ve got like 45 minutes to get ready for dinner before we have to leave and no offense, but you need to shower.”

“Your lucky that you’re getting married tomorrow or I’d kill you,” you mumbled into the pillow, taking a deep breath and exhaling before pushing yourself up. “Can you charge my phone for me? I won’t take too long, just need to rinse off and I’ll be back.”

“In your backpack?” She asked as you walked out of the room.

“Mhhm, small front pocket. The charger is with it.”

You walked out of the room and into the connected bathroom, closing the door behind you before walking towards the shower and turning on the water. Your nap was more than enough to help you make it through dinner. You hadn’t thought that you were even that tired, but the moment you laid down to relax after eating your sandwich– you were absolutely knocked out.

To be fair though, you had spent the last two weeks partying it up on the beach with your college roommates, trying to relive every moment from your last four years of partying, downing booze, and making out with any attractive guy who caught your eye. You know what they say, no rest for the wicked– and boy, oh boy, were the wicked actions of shotgunning beers with strangers in the hot summer jersey sun, coming back to haunt you.

At least you got one hell of a tan and more memories to last you a lifetime, out of it all.

You turned off the shower before you stepped out and wrapped a towel around your body, then wrapping your hair up in a second towel. You walked out of the bathroom and back to the bedroom, only to find it empty. "Hey, Char?"

"In the living room...er, kitchen, I guess!"

You walked out of the bedroom and into the living room to see Charlotte sitting at the kitchen counter, a make-up mirror propped up in front of her and hot curling iron in her hand. "Why are you doing your hair in the kitchen?"

"You were in the bathroom and the lighting is lacking in the bedroom." She let a curl, fall from the iron and turned to you. "What's up?"

"Well, for one, the bathroom is free," you laughed, looking around. "And two, I was wondering where you put my suitcase? It was in the room and now it's not."

"No," she dragged out her reply, focusing on wrapping another piece of hair around the iron before averting her eyes towards the door. "You left it by the front door. Never brought it in."

You turned towards the front door and sure enough, right there not even three feet away from the door...was your suitcase. "Awesome, thanks!" You said, walking over and tugging on the handle, extending it out before walking back to the room. "And my phone?"

"Charging in the kitchen. It was dead by the way."

"Great," you huffed, walking into the bedroom and over to the bed. You lifted up the suitcase, letting it plop down onto the bed and exhaled a deep breath. It was a lot heavier than you thought it was. But maybe your body was just tired from traveling and last night's final night out.

You caught a glimpse of the alarm clock that was set up on the bedside table and saw that your getting ready time was vastly starting to dwindle. So, not thinking anything more of the heavy suitcase, you unzipped the zipper and threw the cover back, ready to grab the romper you had placed directly on top, just so it wouldn't get wrinkled. You stared down at the contents of the suitcase, quickly grabbing the cover and shutting it again.

Okay, maybe you were imagining things.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, exhaling, and then opening your eyes and opening the suitcase again.

No, you definitely weren't imagining things.

The same spike ball netting was still staring you right in the face. Surrounding it, were three spike balls and a crumbled up bag that was supposed to house the set. Beneath it, a bunch of crumpled up clothes and other things.

"No," you shut the suitcase again, repeating the same steps: close your eyes, take a breath, hope you're dreaming, open your eyes and then the suitcase, only to be disappointed. "No, no– oh my God, this can't be happening. Charlotte!!"

You heard her footsteps echo off of the wooden floor as she made her way to the bedroom, half of her hair curled and set. "What?"

"This isn't my suitcase."

"Of course it is," she scoffed. "Colton and I got you that big traveling set for graduation, and that," she pointed at the suitcase, "is it."

"No, it's not," You opened the suitcase and reached in, grabbing the first thing you felt and holding it up to show her. "See? Not mine!"

"Y/N," her eyes widened before she started to laugh. "You might want to put those down."

"It's just the spike ball bag, it's not big–" you turned to see what you were holding and sure enough, it was not the spike ball bag you thought you had picked up. It was a pair of Ant-Man boxers, and it was unknown whether or not they were clean or not. "Ah, ew!" You tossed them back into the suitcase, wiping your hand on your towel. "Ew, ew, ew, I just touched a stranger's dirty underwear."

"You don't know if they were dirty."

"You don't know if they were clean!" You argued back, looking around the handle for an identification tag. "This definitely isn't mine. My travel tag isn't on the handle."

"Who uses a travel tag?" She laughed, shaking her head.

"Me," you turned towards the suitcase, slamming it shut and zipping it. "I use a travel tag, so if my luggage gets lost or switched, they can contact me. It's common travel knowledge."

She sighed, walking over towards the suitcase and unzipping the two pockets on top, looking in and shaking her head. "Nothing hidden in those pockets. Did you think to go through the rest of the suitcase? Maybe they have a tag in there."

"And risk touching another pair of possibly dirty boxers and God knows what else? No thanks," you zipped up the suitcase and picked it up, placing it back onto the ground. "I'm doomed. That suitcase had all of the clothes that I took to Jersey, in it. It had my outfit and makeup for tonight."

"I have something you can borrow," she walked over to the closet, opening it to reveal it was empty besides two dresses hanging up. "And I've got make-up and whatever your little heart desires for your hair."

"Your wedding present was in there too," you sighed, walking over to the closet. "Which one?"

"This." She held out the rose-colored dress, handing the hanger to you. "You can get away with no bra and I can give you a pair of underwear from the new pack I bought this morning–"

"Why would you buy new underwear?" You asked, taking the dress.

"In case of emergencies," she closed the closet and turned back to you, nodding. "Which, this is. Unopened pack in that laundry basket I was carrying, feel free to take a pair and keep them. As for shoes...you're kind of on your own on that one."

You sighed, defeated as she walked out of the bedroom, leaving you to get dressed. You unwrapped the towel around your hair, letting it drop onto the floor as the towel wrapped around your body went with it. You took the dress off of the hanger and untied the straps, lifting the dress over your head and tugging it down. Your mind was going over every detail of just how you picked up the wrong suitcase. Fair, it was a dead-ringer for the suitcase you took with you to Jersey, but even you should have known to realize that there was no bright red luggage tag hanging on the side handle. And it was all you could do but hope that whoever picked up your suitcase thinking it was theirs, would at least call or text.

"Oh shit," you said, holding onto the straps that hung down on the side, trying to tie them in the back. "Charlotte! My phone!"

You ran out into the living room to see her now finishing up her make-up at the counter, turning to you with wide eyes. "Okay one, sit down and let me brush your hair," she stood up and grabbed your wrist, bringing you over to counter and sitting you down. "And two, your phone is right there."

"If they figured out our luggage was switched, they'd call! My luggage tag!" You reached across the counter, grabbing your phone and turning it over to see that the screen was still black. "Oh come on, my phone wasn't that dead!"

Charlotte tugged you back and started to brush your hair, not bothering to go slow. "I plugged it in the moment you went to take a shower, just give it a few seconds."

If looks could kill, your phone would be nowhere ready to turn on. You were glaring at the screen as if pure intimidation would turn it on. This could go one of two ways:

1) This person left your suitcase in the dark abyss that is lost luggage at the airport.

or

2) Like you, they didn't realize that they had grabbed the wrong luggage until they went to open it and they'll find your luggage tag and call you.

"Ah!" You yelled, jumping out of the chair as your phone lit up. You leaned over the counter, your heart racing as Charlotte tried to keep brushing your hair. "Come on, come on, come on..."

"Right there," Charlotte said, pointing at your screen as a text message notification popped up on the screen from an unknown number. "That has to be them!"

"Oh thank God," you sighed, thumb ready to swipe the message open. "Oh...yikes."

"Uh," Charlotte laughed as the two of you continued to watch your messages pour in, at least 5 coming in from the unknown number, along with three phone calls. "Yikes indeed, I guess they're panicking just as much as you are."

You swiped on the notifications, unlocking your phone, and going to the message.

unknown: hi y/n i think you grabbed the wrong suitcase...

unknown: yeah, uh, you most definitely grabbed the wrong suitcase.

unknown: is there any way we can switch in the next 30 minutes before i reach my house?

unknown: ok, so i'm sorry for the spam texts and calls...but this is kind of urgent.

unknown: like life or death.

"Life or death?" Charlotte asked, looking at you with a raised eyebrow. "What the hell was in that suitcase?"

"Spike ball and dirty clothes," you replied, shrugging. Your eyes went wide before you turned back to her. "What if they're a drug smuggler and there are drugs in there?"

She opened her mouth to speak before looking down at your phone, nodding. "Now's your chance to find out. Look who's calling."

You looked back down at your phone to see the unknown number flash on your screen. You looked back at her, shaking your head. "You answer it."

"Your luggage, you answer it," she laughed, pulling back segments of your hair to tie back. "But put it on speaker, I'm curious what the drug dealer sounds like."

You shoved your elbow back, avoiding her as you nervously slid your thumb across the screen, answering the call and pressing the speaker button. "Hello?"

"Oh thank God," the unknown called sighed, clearing his throat. "Sorry for the spam calls, I've just been panicking."

"Yeah, I’m sorry...my phone died," you replied, looking at Charlotte as your voice dwindled off.

"The suitcase," she mouthed, nodding her head back towards the room.

"Oh, the suitcase!" You said, almost a little too excited. You cleared your throat, calming yourself down. "I most definitely have your suitcase...maybe."

"Well I have yours," you could hear rustling in the background. "Y/N L/N, right?"

"Yep, that's me," you looked at Charlotte again, shaking your head. "Sorry to kind of do this...but how do I know I have your suitcase? I mean, what if I grabbed someone else's and you grabbed mine and there's three of us in this and–"

Charlotte smacked your back lightly with the back of the brushed, shaking her head as the voice on the other side of the phone laughed. "Um, shit," he coughed, smacking his lips. "Uh well, there should be a spike ball set in there. If not, then I left it at Johnny's. Otherwise, it's just clothes."

"Congratulations," you laughed, leaning back into the chair. "I've got your suitcase."

"Oh thank God, I was really worried there for a second," they replied. "Is there any chance we can exchange them soon?"

"Okay, so about that," you sighed, biting the inside of your cheek. "I kind of have a wedding rehearsal and dinner to go to in 20 minutes...and I don't think that will be over with till about...two hours from now. Is that okay?"

There was silence on the other side and you couldn't help but feel horrible at the fact that you were keeping this stranger away from his luggage and that he had to keep yours until then. "My family and I are going to dinner in two hours, reservation and all."

"Where at?" You spoke before your brain could even catch up with what your mouth was doing. "I'm sorry that was creepy."

He laughed and you felt a little flutter feeling in your stomach. "No, it's fine. I think we're going to Maggiano's in–"

"In the Westfield town center?" Your eyes widened as Charlotte placed the brush down on the counter behind you, looking at you with a smile. "We're going to Pieology in the Westfield town center!"

"Pieology for a wedding rehearsal dinner? Sounds like my kind of party," he laughed. "So, do you just want to exchange then? When I get there and you're leaving?"

"Sounds perfect!"

"Great! So I'll just, text you when I get there and I promise I won't forget the suitcase."

"Okay, I'll see you then."

"All right, bye, Y/N!"

"Bye!" You hung up the call and Charlotte leaned against the counter a smile on her face. "What?"

"He sounded cute." She stuck placed the extra bobby pins she didn't need, onto the counter. "Maybe he can be your date for my wedding."

"Not this again," you groaned, getting out of the chair. "For the last time, I don't need a date. Besides, this guy is a total stranger– I don't even know his name!"

"You can learn it later," she laughed, wiggling her eyebrows. "Either way, do your makeup quickly because we need to leave in ten."

She walked off towards the bedroom the two of you had claimed and you sighed, sitting back down into your seat, grabbing her mascara, blush, and golden liquid shimmer eyeshadow. It was the best you could do for now, until you got all of your stuff back from this stranger. As you applied the eyeshadow, you couldn't get Charlotte's comment out of your head. She was right, he did sound cute. But who's to say that he's not a total creep? Or that he's even your age? He could be in his 40's or even barely cruising 18. And then stood the real issue, you didn't even know his name.

Your phone screen lit up once again and you looked away from the mirror, seeing that you had another text from the unknown number. You furrowed your eyebrows and unlocked your phone, opening his text.

unknown: my name is matt, by the way 😊

[liukangmybeloved]

everyone else is fighting for second {Mortal Kombat (2021)}

SPOILERS FOR MORTAL KOMBAT (2021)

Summary: Canon Divergent AU. Crack & Fluff. The team develops into something of a found family, which happens to include Cole's actual family. They take a day off from fighting to go to the fair, where the biggest question is 'who is Cole's daughter's favourite in the team?' Besides her dad, of course. Kano is very competitive about this question.

A/N: 1968 words. I will take a meat-tenderizer and FIX the canon and make it SOFT. i love cole young and mk 2021, if you don't like that, you've been warned. everybody lives/nobody dies AU & kano isn't a traitor. also imagine there's just like.... more time before the tournament. enough to become a found family. like i said, fluff & crack. warnings for swearing.

If Cole had it his way, Emily and Kano would have never met. He would be perfectly happy letting everyone else on the team meet her, but he's yet to hear a single sentence leave Kano's mouth that didn't include some colourful variation of 'fuck', 'shit', 'wanker', or 'cunt'. So unsurprisingly, he wasn't exactly eager to let his teenager daughter near the man who Sonya had literally called 'scum of the Earth', but alas.

"I'll be on my best behaviour, pinky-swear!" Kano's grin was all teeth as he'd held his pinky finger up to Cole's glowering face, wiggling it a little when Cole made no move to finish the pinky-swear.

"If you say - cunt -" and the word sounds so uncomfortable coming from Cole, he damn well looks uncomfortable just saying it, "within a hundred feet of her, I'll get Kung Lao to cut you in half." And he gesutres over to where Kung Lao and the rest of their ragtag bunch of misfits; the man in question had forgone his usual weapon for a more modern, soft-brimmed sunhat, but his jaunty wave to Kano at the sound of his name still managed to be menacing. The Australian shuddered in horror at the mere thought; at least he took the threat seriously.

"You don't have to be jealous, man," the threat seemed to only have dampened Kano's jovial attitude momentarily, as he's got a spring in his step as he follows Cole to the rest of the gathered champions, "Uncle Kano's gonna set a fuckin' - flippin' -" he corrects himself as Cole shoots him a warning look, "great example." Sonya barks a loud, derisive laugh as Cole sees fit to remind him that he's not Uncle Kano.

"Emily's a good kid," Liu Kang assures, kind and sincere.

"Yeah, she never even believes me when I tell her Kano's a dirty, little rat," Kung Lao smirks in the face of Kano's sudden outrage, and Cole is pretty sure that, despite it being Emily and Alison's idea, to give the team a day of levity and to bond, this might be the worst plan he's ever agreed to.

"This is a day of bonding, not of infighting," Raiden's voice joins them, followed by the God himself only moments later, which is enough to unite all the champions in confusion at his choice of wardrobe for the day. While still sporting a majority of his usual attire, somehow he'd managed to procure a t-shirt with a meme of all things on it, a personalised meme!

"I designed it myself, I think it turned out pretty okay; whaddya think?" Kano sounded far too proud of himself, looking at the cartoon drawing of what could only be Raiden himself pointing awkwardly at Thor as depicted in Marvel Comics, who was pointing back.

"We are both Gods of Thunder," Raiden explained, pointing to his own shirt; Sonya had gone wide-eyed, unsure of how to react, while Jaxx was doing his utmost not to burst out laughing.

"I... didn't know you knew what a meme was," Cole admits, though honestly, once the shock had worn off of, it was rather charming.

"I didn't know you knew what a meme was," Kano fired back, equally confused.

"I have a thirteen-year-old, of course I know what a meme is -" but then it seems to hit him just as it hits Sonya and Jax, and the three of them turn to the pair of confused, cave-dwelling, internet-free champions. None of them knew where to begin trying to explain the whole situation, but thankfully, Raiden chose that moment to open a lightning portal, and they all headed through quickly.

----

The night that Cole and his family had gone home after everything had gone down, the fighting, Sub-Zero, and the man he's pretty sure is the ghost of his ancestor, Emily had looked him dead in the eye and called him a super hero.

And then told him that his friends were really cool.

This was a sentiment that his new friends seemed to share about his family.

Cole quickly comes to realise that family isn't something a lot of the rest of the team have nowadays; they have each other, but for a lot of them, that's mostly it. He sits on an invite to dinner that he'd already ran past Alison several days ago, before inviting Liu Kang and Kung Lao over, if nothing else, to repay the hospitality they'd shown him so early on.

Alison's rule was that there was to be peace on their property; no training, no fighting, but the team was welcome as long as they didn't bring trouble to the door.

So then it was Sonya and Jaxx, who brought dessert when they came over.

Emily once asked what Thunder Gods ate. Did they eat? Cole wasn't sure. He extends an invite to Raiden anyways, but it's politely declined. The next time, however, he took up Cole's invite, mostly for the company, and to thank Alison and Emily for their patience; having Cole away so often wasn't easy, he'd be the first to acknowledge that. Alison appreciated the sentiment, as did Emily, though she was also just bursting with questions for the God, and he did his best to answer what he could.

Then finally - finally - after so long spent with the team, of most of them coming to find comfort and serenity in his home on the occasions that they need it, Kano is invited to Sunday lunch too.

----

"I know us champions and our super powers are pretty cool," Kano says to Emily, the moment they step through the lightning portal and emerge into the sunshine and the noise of the fair, "but I'm your favourite, right? Besides your old man, of course," and he rolls his eyes a little at that, as does Cole, for very different reasons, while Alison shoots Cole a questioning look. Thankfully she still does not trust Kano as far as she could throw him.

For her part, Emily answers incredibly diplomatically, sounding much older than her thirteen years, and quite a bit like her mother;

"Kano, you're a grown man, my approval shouldn't matter to you," she sounds sincere, which is completely undercut by Kung Lao sliding into step beside Kano.

"Which means you're not her favourite," he teases, and Kano practically growls back, embarrassed, while Emily calls out to Raiden that she likes his shirt. He practically beams.

"Not a lot of people will really get it, though," she points out, and Raiden muses on that for a moment.

"But I get it, and it's mine."

"Fair point," Emily nods at that, as their strange group steps up to buy tickets.

---

Emily spends more of the fair of people's shoulders than she does actually walking, which delights her endlessly. Mostly she's up on Jax's shoulders, and charges her cotton candy for the ride, ripping a small chunk from the one Cole had bought for her.

"It's weird seeing you all look so normal," she says to Sonya, the two of them in line for the Dodge 'Em Cars alongside Liu Kang and Kung Lao. Sonya grins, knows exactly what she means, gaze turning to the two members of the Shaolin Order of Light, not that anyone would know simply from looking at them now. Where Liu Kang had found a pair of trendy, ripped jeans was beyond Sonya's imagination.

"You look cool, though," Emily amended quickly, "I didn't realise you all would come to the fair, but I'm glad you did," she's smiling brightly as they get closer to the front of the line.

"Who did you expect to come along today?" Liu asks, eyes wide and curious. It wasn't that he was as competitive as Kung Lao or Kano, but he still found the child's interpretation of their group to be interesting. She knows, in some capacity, what they're capable off; she'd watched her father slice, dice, and kill Goro after all. The fact that she could think so highly of them speaks a lot to her capacity for kindness, or perhaps her childish naivety, but Liu preferred to think it was the former.

Emily, however, goes quiet, seems to be a little embarrassed. She mutters something, avoiding eye contact with any of them, and Liu goes to ask her to repeat herself, but she interrupts him while doing so;

"I wanted Dad to have a day off," she admitted, before adding, "and... and Lord Raiden; I don't think he's had a day off this millennium."

"It's good of you to look out for them," Sonya tells her fondly, "our team can be pretty single-minded, but we needed this day off, I think." And she gives Emily a pet on the shoulder, and lets her steer the tandem Car when they finally get a turn.

----

"It's me, right? I'm your favourite," Jax asks Emily over lunch, not because he genuinely believes it, but because it riles up Kano, and to a lesser extent, the competitive Liu Kang.

"Jax is one bad day away from pledging his allegiance to Skynet, he can't be your favourite -" Kano grumbles.

"Dad's my favourite," Emily reminds them sternly, and Cole has to hide his proud little smile, before she adds, "and mom's my favourite too, the rest of you, well of course you're all badass as hell -"

"Is it Liu? 'Cos he's pretty and you're, yanno, a teenage girl," Kano scowls at the warrior who'd been attempting to just quietly enjoy his basket of fries. Both Cole and Alison are wearing similarly murderous expressions, and Kano raised his hands in mock surrender, dropping his gaze.

"Actually," Emily said pointedly, despite the embarrassed flush on her cheeks, though she was mirroring her parents intensity, "my favourite is Raiden because he's literally a God that shoots lightning out of his hands, and you're now my least favourite because you're a rat bastard."

"I taught her that," Kung Lao was grinning from ear to ear, and when he and Emily look to each other, they share a definitive nod.

"How come he's allowed to teach her words like bastard?!" Kano demanded to know.

"Because you're a bastard," Sonya interjects.

Kano is thankfully quiet for the remainder of lunch, sulking at his end of the table as chatter returns to normal, returns to talk of how everyone else had been enjoying the day.

----

At the end of the day, Kano shoves a large, stuffed kangaroo at Emily that he'd won at the booth where you had to knock over bottles.

"Didn't even use me eye or anything; lost an hour of my life and fifty fuckin' dollars," he was grumbling, while Emily was examining the prize.

"You won this?" She seemed endeared by it, endeared by the thought that he'd put the time into winning it for her.

"'course I won it, can I stop being your least favourite now?" He asked, and Emily tucked the kangaroo beneath her arm, giving him an appraising look.

"You can't buy my loyalty -"

"Wouldn't want it if it could be bought, I know that shit from experience," Kano interjected, crossing his arms defensively, ignoring where Cole was glowering at him every time he swore.

"But you put time in, and effort, so you're back to third with everyone else."

"As long as none of those bastards is beating me, I'm okay with that."

As they headed to the exit, to where Raiden had created a lightning portal for them all to go home through, Emily reached out and punched Kano lightly in the shoulder.

"Thanks, Kano, it's pretty sweet that you care so much."

"Don't tell the others," he grumbled back.

"We've been with you all day," Jax calls out, "we already know."

[vodkaxtonic]

No one but you •Zuko x Reader•

Summary: Zuko and you had been dating for a while now, on distance and through letters since he had to leave Ba sing se to help the Avatar. Now he has found his way back to you, although not alone.

Warnings: FLUFFFF, also insecurities and a bit of swearing

Wordcount: 2.3K

"Where the hell are we supposed to stay? Where the hell are we supposed to park a giant flying bison? It's rain season at the moment this could go on for days. We can't stay here!" Sokka complained as they sat under Appa's tail, much to the disliking of the Bison, which was without cover, soaked by the pouring rain. They had just landed in Ba sing se, to their luck, the King himself denied them access to the royal palace if they brought the 'filthy firebender' with them. Zuko knew he had a place he could go to, a place where he would be welcome with open arms. "I told you to stay in the palace! I would've managed!" Zuko protested, already annoyed by Sokka's complaining. "We're friends now, remember? Either all of us or none of us." Aang said with an encouraging smile, and Zuko had to use all his strength to keep himself from sending the boy flying across the ground with a fireball. 

Did Zuko tell them he had a girlfriend? Of course, he didn't. He never would've heard the end of it, the annoying questions of Katara and Toph and way too intimate questions of Sokka were something he tried to avoid. However, now it seemed like he would have to tell them because as much as he couldn't stand Sokka, he was right. They couldn't stay in the rain, they'd all get sick, and it would delay everything. 

Zuko groaned out in annoyance, as he pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers before muttering under his breath. "I know a place where we can go."

______

You stood in your kitchen beside your mother as she prepared dinner when your conversation came to a sudden halt. "Did you hear that?" You asked, merely to be sure you didn't imagine the loud thud outside and the roar that followed. "I'll go look." You muttered since you were the only earthbender in your family, you would be able to defend your family if you had to. You started walking over to your door, slowly and quietly as you listened to the voices outside you couldn't recognize. 

You opened the door with a fast movement, your hands already making the ground beneath the strangers shake, causing them to stumble until you noticed who stood in front of you. "Zuko!" Your eyes lit up at the sight of your boyfriend standing in front of you, dripping wet as he smiled at you sheepishly. "Hey, y/n." He smiled at you ever so softly, and you felt like you were about to melt as you walked over to him, wrapping your arms around his neck as his found their way around your waist, pulling you closer. "You didn't tell me you were coming this soon." You stated with a smile as you ignored the strangers that were gaping at the both of you. "It was rather spontaneous." He answered with a shrug, a soft smile covering his face before he leaned down, pressing a kiss onto your lips. 

"You have a girlfriend?! A pretty one? How?!" You and Zuko jumped apart quickly, both of your faces flushed as you turned to his companions, the boy with the ponytail practically yelling. "Why didn't you tell us?" Katara asked, a judgemental look on her face as she stared your boyfriend down. "To avoid reactions like this. Is it so unbelievable that someone can love me, geez." Zuko shook his head before turning to you. "You know I wouldn't have brought them here if I had any other choice." You nodded, smiling at him before looking at the group, introducing yourself. They all introduced themselves to you, Aang thanking you for your hospitality. "Do you think you could give Appa a place to sleep in your barn?" Zuko asked as his arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to his side as he looked down at you. "Who is Ap..." You stopped in the middle of your sentence as you saw the giant Bison that looked at you, before opening its mouth, letting out a roar. "Sure." You muttered as you pointed Aang towards the barn who thanked you profusely. 

"Mother, Zuko is here! He brought friends." You smiled towards your mother as you entered the kitchen, a huge smile appearing on your mother's face as she walked towards Zuko, embracing him a tight hug, despite him being soaking wet. "It's so good to see you again, Zuko!" She said, letting go of him, her hands still resting on his shoulders as a motherly smile covered her face and something Zuko swore something inside him warmed up. "And it's a pleasure to meet you too." Your mother smiled at the rest of the group, greeting them each with a tight hug. "Y/n, will you get them some dry clothes? I bet Zuko has a few spare clothes here that the boys can wear, you might have to lend the ladies some."  You only nodded, telling the other girls to follow you while giving Zuko a nudge, telling him to lend them some of his clothes. "Do I have to?" He pouted as he looked at you, you lifted your hand, drily petting his cheek with a nod, making him groan as he swore under his breath. 

"This is pretty, where did you get it?" Katara asked as she looked down at herself before she looked at you. She was right, the clothes looked much better on her than they did on you, the blue satin dress you gave her showing off her curves, while also leaving enough room to move freely. "I made it myself." You answered with a smile as she gaped at you. "Don't worry, the dress is just temporary. I fear I don't have anything else in your size for you to leave this room with." You explained to her, and that was very much true. You had more curves than her, a more pronounced body, and you wanted to frown. Katara was so much prettier than you. "Thank you for not forcing me into a dress." You turned to Toph with a smile she was wearing one of your older green training pants, which she had to roll up at the ankle and a white top that barely showed her stomach, yet you could see the slight abs she had. Your body wasn't like hers, not as pronounced, even though you both were earthbenders. Your body was soft to the touch, you didn't have those sharp collarbones of Toph or the delicate hands of Katara, and secretly you wished you looked like Toph or Katara. However, you kept that yourself.

You tried to hide your frown as you entered the kitchen with Katara and Toph on your heels. Zuko, his friends, and your mother were already seated at the table. You took a seat beside Zuko as Aang still tried to process the sight of Katara, and Sokka was trying not to look too obvious as he checked out Toph, totally failing. Not too soon after that, chattering broke the silence, Aang and Sokka excitedly telling your mother about their adventures. 

"Are you okay?" Zuko's voice layered with worry as he got closer to your ear, not trying to be too evident that you both weren't actually listening to the conversation. You knew that you shouldn't be as down as you were right now, the man you loved was by your side, and you finally managed to meet his friends. Yet, you didn't manage to feel real happiness. Seeing your boyfriend, who you thought, was way out of league traveling with women who were that gorgeous and talented was leaving a pit at the bottom of your stomach, you for sure weren't hungry anymore. "I'm fine." You sent him a quick smile before excusing yourself quickly, not caring that it seemed rude or that the eyes of the other glued to your back, their expressions filled with confusion. You went outside, your feet quickly taking you across your property until you reached the barn, your hair slightly dripping as you opened to door. 

"Are you a nice bison?" You asked as you entered the barn, seeing the Bison laying on the ground as it looked at you before it kept munching on the hay scattered around. A sigh escaped your mouth as you sat down, your back leaning against the soft and warm fur of Appa. You figured if the others flew on it, it wouldn't mind your company. You just couldn't stand sitting at the table anymore. Seeing Katara and Toph made you insecure, very insecure. The more you looked at them, the less you liked yourself, and it suffocated you. Knowing that Zuko was on endless adventures with them alone made you scared, even though you knew he loved you. Compared to them, you thought he just couldn't love you. 

You didn't know how much time passed as the barn door was frantically opened, only to hear a breath of relief. You didn't have to look to know it was Zuko. He closed the door behind him, walking over to you as you kept your gaze at the ceiling. "Y/n, I love you, but don't ever fucking do that again, just leaving like that," Zuko said as he took a seat beside you, hesitantly leaning back onto the fur of Appa. "What's wrong?" You didn't want to answer. It would sound silly, stupid. You didn't want to make a fool out of yourself, so you decided to keep your mouth shut. "I thought you'd be happy to see me." You could hear the frown in his words, and it stung, tugged at your heart. "I am happy to see you, Zuko." You answered, not being able to stay silent when he started to think that you weren't happy to see him. You enjoyed spending time with him, enjoying every second you get together. "You don't seem to be." You sighed as you turned to your side, now facing him, your hand tucked under your cheek as you let your eyes roam over his face. "It's not that." Your voice was softer as he sighed, copying your pose. "Then what is it, y/n? Talk to me, please." Zuko's voice was pleading as he tried to figure out what was different this time. A part of him thought maybe you didn't love him anymore, and it made him more than anxious. 

Your voice was shaky as you confessed, feeling embarrassed. "I saw Toph and Katara, and I started thinking. They're so beautiful and powerful, and I'm not. It made me insecure, thinking about you spending weeks and weeks on with these beautiful women and coming back to this." You spat the last word with disgust layered in your voice, and Zuko couldn't help but flinch. It was quiet for a few seconds as Zuko tried to process the words you had just said. "Toph and Katara are beautiful and powerful, no doubt." He answered, straight forward, as he eyed you. "But, so are you. You are much more than you think you are. You're intelligent, funny, loving, caring, and deep down a good person. Also, you're fucking hot." You couldn't help but laugh at the last sentence, allowing him to cup your face with his hand as he looked at you with that soft smile, he only seemed to show you. "Toph and Katara are nothing compared to you, y/n. You were the first person in years that saw me, the real me, not the banished son of the Firelord, not the monster everyone made me out to be, which honestly I kind of was. You allowed me to let my guard down with you. You showed me kindness and compassion, a thing no one had shown me in years." Your eyes misted up when you knew he was genuine, every word he said he meant. "I couldn't care less about other women. In the end, I know where my home is." He smiled as he leaned over, softly pressing his lips on yours as your hand found its way to his neck, pulling him closer. 

"As much as I am enjoying this, can we go to your room? Else I'm going to fall asleep right here." Zuko chuckled, his cheeks a slight crimson color as you nodded, chuckling. He jumped up, offering you his hand, which you gladly took, and he helped you up. Instead of letting go of your hand, he intertwined his fingers with yours as you left the barn. Together you ran hand-in-hand, laughing as you got soaked by the rain before he stopped, spinning you as you almost crashed into his chest. He leaned his forehead against yours, his skin warm against you as he wrapped his arms around your waist, yours leaned against his chest. "I love you." He muttered, his breath hot on your face. "I love you too." A small smile was on your face before he crashed his lips onto yours, knocking the oxygen out of your lungs, but you didn't care. When you were with Zuko, nothing really mattered except for him and now.

[otagamerkorin]

Trial by Fire (including very little actual fire and honestly just a whole lot of snow)

Merry (very belated) Christmas @blasphemousfungus! I was your secret santa for @kibasniper‘s Psychonauts Secret Santa! Unfortunately, due to a lotta stuff going on in my life, your present isn’t completely done yet, but here’s the first (honestly kinda massive) chapter of it! I plan on putting it up on AO3 as well, so I’ll ping you then too! For reference, this was highly inspired by mystery_notebook (or I think they might be @tvguts on here?) fic Like It Used To Be, But Better, which is amazing and you should totally check it out. Anyways, I really hope you enjoy it!

Edit: Just realized I completely forgot to give it a title. Whoops.

When they had gone into the asylum, none of the members of Thorney Towers had expected to come back out not only dear friends with a 10 year old, but also under the close monitor of an organization of secret psychic agents.  Initially is had only been to ensure that being around Loboto while in such delicate condition hadn’t left any lasting damage. Luckily from what they’d been able to work out from the fours scattered memories of the time, the dentist hadn’t involved them in any of his experiments, but better safe than sorry. The surveillance really hadn’t gotten in the way of their new lives much. A few calls a week, the occasional in-person check in to see how they were doing, not much to write home about in the grand scheme of things.

After a time though, things had begun to get...interesting.

It was actually Boyd who kicked the whole thing off, so to say. It had been a day like any other, possibly even more quiet and domestic than usual considering they’d just hit the weekend. According to the other three, he’d simply been drying dishes after dinner that night when a wayward mug has slipped off the counter behind him. The resulting crash has two effects. 1.) The former nightguard jumped about three feet off the ground with a startled shriek. And 2.) The dishtowel in his hands promptly burst into flames. Luckily he’d dropped the flaming cloth into surprise and a bit of group panic and rapid stomping has quickly put out the blaze, leaving the four gathered in the small kitchen, staring down at its burnt remains.

The lot of them, Boyd especially, were dumbfounded by the whole event and immediately phoned up their new psychic associates, if only to make sure they weren’t all going crazy again. There had to be some mundane explanation for this, right? But after a few quick tests from Sasha, it was official: Boyd was most definitely a psychic.

Signs from the others quickly followed.  Fred would frequently find papers and pens floating in orbit around him whenever he got embroiled in his nursing reinstatement exams. Edgar would sometimes find those around him caught up in a sort of bewildering mental fog, leaving them staring around in confusion. And while Gloria had always had quite the green thumb, now the plants in her garden flourished with just the touch of her hand, the woman assaulted with a hundred whispered voices of delight whenever she appeared at the gate with her watering can. Lili was especially happy about the latter, having never met a fellow connoisseur of florakinesis until that point, let alone one who was so friendly.

To say everyone, both Psychonaut and otherwise, was baffled was an understatement. None of the four had shown an signs of psychic powers earlier in life. So why now?

It was Razputin of all people who offered a hypothesis.  They were all aware that the large amount of  Psitanium around the camp and asylum had been less that helpful for the fours delicate mental state, what with the whole “making the sane less sane” thing and all. Perhaps though, the other half of the phrase may also be in play. What if being around all that Psitanium has brought whatever deeply buried psychic powers the four shared to the surface?

Honestly, it was the best they had to go on. There were hardly any cases of spontaneous psychic manifestation in those beyond adolescence and the four weren’t showing any of the usual symptom relating to those sort of circumstances.

Regardless, it didn’t change the fact that the organization now had a whole mess of new psychics in the mix who needed training.

Which is what brought Milla to the front gates of the Von Gouten Arts Academy for Girls (formally Hagatha Home) bright and early one Wednesday morning. The former actress had bought the dilapidated old academy around a year ago using some of the wealth she’s amassed during her glory years. (It was amazing how much interest a saving account left to sit could accrue.) Since then she’d been fixing the place up, hiring teachers and generally getting the place running even better than before, eventually joined in her endeavors by the other three Thorney Towers residents when they moved onto the grounds with her.

Milla found herself smiling up at the stylized “VG” woven into the metal of the newly installed gate in the stone fence that surrounded the property. Gloria really was doing an excellent job with the place. Rolling her window down, the Mental Minx leaned out and pressed the button of the call box installed in the fence wall. For a moment there was silence and then a familiar voice crackled to life on the other end.

“Good morning! Do you have an appointment?”

“Well, I would certainly hope so Darling.” Milla teased and she could practically hear the smile in Boyd’s voice when he replied.

“Dang, is it really Wednesday already? Well, head right on up Mrs. Vodello! I’ll let the rest of the gang know you’re coming.”

There was a buzz and the whirring of mechanisms as the gate opened and allowed access to the road beyond. Continuing on down the path, she soon found herself pulling into the large round driveway in front of the building. A group of students tending to one of the flower beds out front waved as she parked and stepped out of the car, Boyd likewise stepping out of the guard shack nearby and making his way over.

“Good morning to you Ms. Vodello! You the only one here today?”

“Not quite.” She replied with a chuckle, just in time for the back door of the car to fly open and Raz to stick his grinning face out around it.

“Hi Boyd!”

“Hey, good to see you too Raz! Come on inside, the rest of the gang should be on their way.” He replied with a grin, reaching down to ruffle the boy’s hair as he led them inside.

For as horrid as the place had apparently originally been ran, the former owner had at least had good architectural sense, and the large oak front doors opened into a soaring foyer, complete with a grand spiral staircase. One that Gloria was already beginning to make her way down as the doors closed behind them.

“Well good morning Ms. Vodello! And to you too Raz dear!” The former actress beamed, taking Boyd’s offered arm as she stepped down the last few stairs.

“You came at just the right time. I just finished up with morning announcements. Please, feel free to head right over to the practice room, the rest of the boys should already be on their way. Oh, and I’ve also had some snacks from the dining hall sent on ahead. I hope you both like blueberry muffins!”

“That sounds just delightful darling!” Milla replied cheerfully, smiling wider when she saw the stars in Raz’s eyes at the mention of food. Milla sidled up beside the actress as they started down into one of the academy’s wings, one of Gloria’s arms still linked with Boyd’s.

“So how have the plants been treating you darling?”

“Oh, better everyday! My garden is thriving and I think I’m really starting to get a good hold of this whole telepathy thing! Getting it across to all my little lovelies that there’s really no need to shout every time I come in hasn’t been easy, but I think it’s finally starting to stick. The roses and lilies are still a horrible bunch of gossips, but I doubt there’s much I’ll ever be able to do about that.” She replied with a laugh.

“They do come in useful to make sure none of the students are pulling anything they shouldn’t though!”

“That’s wonderful to hear! How about you Boyd? Have you been making any process in your off-time?” Milla asked, the guard rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Yeah, a bit. It ain’t exactly been fast progress, but one step at a time you know? But hey! At least I haven’t accidentally lit up anything important again since you taught me those exercises. There’s only so many times I can almost burn down Edgar’s classroom before it starts to get ridiculous.”

Milla smiled softly, reaching over to pat the guard on the back.

“Well, learning to fully control one’s powers can be a long path. It took me years to master my own skillset. Like you said, it’s just one step at a time. I think you’ve made wonderful progress though, and I’m very proud of you darling.” She mused and the man flushed a bit at her praise and mumbled a word of thanks, tugging his hat low over his eyes bashfully as Gloria gave him a smile.

The group of four quickly found themselves at the extra dance studio in the buildings far west they’d assigned at their practice room, and upon stepping inside found Fred and Edgar already waiting for them.

“Oh, hey Ms. Milla. And you too Raz. Sorry, gimme just a sec to finish up some papers.” The tall school counselor called over distractedly, scribbling away on a clipboard from where he was sitting on a nearby bench.

“Apologies for my rather ruffled appearance as well, mi amigos.” Edgar chimed in, wiping his hands down with a long-since-stained painting cloth. Both his hands and the old shirt he wore were splattered with the stuff, having somehow even managed to get some on his face and hair.

“You caught me in the middle of a bit of early morning painting.”

“Just be sure to remember and get some rest dear. We can’t have our best art teacher burning the candle at both ends.” Gloria replied with a smile as she strode over, reaching up to stroke away a smudge of paint on his cheek. The artist gave a soft smile as he leaned into the touch.

“Oh course mi amour.”

“Good. And that goes for your too Fred. Don’t think I haven’t noticed a certain someone sneaking out of bed early the last few mornings.” She called over, and the counselor jumped a bit at being called out, flushing bashfully as he looked at her over the edge of the clipboard.

“Right, you’re right. So, what’s the plan for today Ms. Milla? Seeing as how Mr. Dark and Serious isn’t here, I assume we’re working on our levitation?” Fred asked, setting aside the clipboard as he pushed himself to his feet, the Brazilian woman giving a laugh at his joke.

“Oh come now, Sasha isn’t that bad. But you are correct! Today we’re going to be working more on your levitation!” She replied, settling back as though sitting upon an invisible chair and crossing her legs as she floated up a few feet above the ground.

“Now, last time you all managed to manifest a “Levitation Ball” as we like to call it. This time we’ll be taking the next step and practicing our ability to balance atop them. Razputin darling, if you would demonstrate?” The Mental Minx requested and the young psychic nodded, raising a hand above his head.  A large ball of swirling orange energy formed in his palm and he tossed it down, easily jumping up and balancing atop it.

“Now then, we aren’t all trained acrobats like Razputin here, so it might take a while to find your balance and get the hang of it. Consider it like balancing on a medicine ball. Remember, thinking lighter, rounder, happier thoughts can help in manifesting the ball more easily. Go ahead and give it a try! And please let me know if you need any help at all.”

Early on in these lessons the group had felt a bit silly to be using psychic instruction methods typically meant for children, but they’d gotten over it quickly enough. After all, most psychics got their powers much younger than the lot of them were, so starting at a lower level of instruction was only appropriate. It helped that the simple exercises really worked wonders too.

Though that didn’t mean it was gonna be easy. Forming the ball was one thing. Staying on was another.

A fact the group quickly discovered.

Fred gave a squeak as his light blue orb suddenly slid forward, taking the foot he’d just managed to plant atop it along with it, threatening to pull the man into a split as he hopped forward to follow it. In his defense, Edgar and Boyd didn’t seem to be doing much better. The latter had managed to get atop his off-white bubble, but was now swaying about wildly as he tried to keep balanced, arms windmilling in an attempt to steady himself. The former was having much the same troubles, quickly getting dumped back onto the floor each time he attempted to clamber up.

Gloria was the only one of the bunch who seemed to be making much progress. The woman had moved over to one of the practice room’s ballet bars and was gripping it for stability as she gingerly set one foot on her own ball. With a small grunt she hefted herself up, the orb wiggling worryingly beneath her for a moment before stilling.

“There you go! You’re doing wonderful darling!” Milla cheered her on, clapping encouragingly as the other woman smiled.

“Why thank you Milla dear. After some of the ridiculous shoes I’ve had to wear in my years on the stage, this isn’t so bad.” Gloria replied, putting her arms out to balance as her stance wavered a bit.

“Oof! Well, I’m glad one of us seems to be getting it, mi amor. This is far less easy than Señorita Vodello makes it look.” Edgar replied with a grunt, the wind getting knocked out of him as he fell to the ground once more. Milla let out a thoughtful hum, tapping her lips as she watched the struggling group. Suddenly her eyes flashed with inspiration and she snapped her fingers with a grin.

“Well, I think I may know a way to help.”

The whole group, including Raz, whom had rolled over to try and help Boyd stay upright, turned to look at her in interest.

“I’d like you all to form two, smaller levitation balls instead of one.” She directed, miming the shape of two basketball sized orbs.

“Uh, ok. But how is that gonna help?” Fred asked, already focusing on trying to reform his ball into two even as he tiled his head in confusion.

“Well, as you know, those like me, who’ve had a lot of practice, don’t require a physical representation of their levitation in order to float. Most of those who do tend to only create a singular orb to assist them, so they can don’t have to split their focus. I’ve found that others though, who have a nice grip on the psychic side of things, but are having a harder time managing the physical part, tend to prefer use two. Think of them a bit like ice or roller skates.”

“Oh, I think I see what you mean amiga!” Edgar replied in excitement, focusing till his deep red ball split into two smaller ones. Carefully, he stepped atop on, managing to balance one-footed long enough to successfully stabilize himself using the other. Cautiously, he rolled forward a few feet, face splitting into a smile as he managed to keep his balance.

“Well, well, this actually is easier.”

The others quickly followed his example, and the slight adjustment seemed to do wonders. Soon Gloria was twirling lazy loops around the room like a proper skater, Edgar trailing a bit more slowly, but no less enthusiastically, after her. Fred seemed to be doing a tad bit better than before, but was still gripping tight to a much more steady Boyd’s shoulders as the two slowly drifted in circles, Fred’s long legs doing their damnedest to keep him upright.

“Never been great at skating either, but this is a bit better I guess.” The counselor murmured, glancing up to find his partner giving him an encouraging smile.

“Hey, it just takes a little practice! I’m sure you’ll levitating like a pro in no time!” Raz encouraged, giving a whoop of delight as Gloria grabbed him and twirled him around as he glided past.

“Impressive, but I’m afraid we’re going to have to cut the class short for today.”

The whole group gave a jump at the sudden voice, Fred giving a yelp as the levitation bubbles below him popped and dropped him on his ass, and they all turned to see Sasha standing in the now open doorway.

“Sasha, darling! What are you doing here? Didn’t you have other business today?” Milla asked in confusion, drifting over to help Fred up, and the German sighed seriously.

“Yes, but I just got a call from the headquarters. It seems...that Agent Pandor has disappeared.”

Milla gave a gasp, pressing both hands to her mouth, and Raz cocked his head in confusion.

“Uhhh, who’s Agent Pandor?”

“Ms. Tanya Pandor. One of the Psychonauts junior agents and a specialist in subterfuge and information gathering. I’m afraid you haven’t had the opportunity to meet yet.”

“But isn’t Tanya on vacation right now?” Milla asked and Sasha nodded.

“Yes, she had gone skiing at a lodge up in Colorado. The HQ asked her to check in regularly for security reasons. According to what I was briefed with, reports dropped off a few days ago. After a few failed attempts to get ahold of her, eventually the HQ resorted to calling the lodge itself to check in on her, thinking maybe she’d fallen sick. When they checked her room however, the whole thing was empty. It’s as though she just vanished.”

“Oh my! That sounds troubling indeed!” Gloria gasped, mirroring Milla as she held a hand to her mouth dramatically, and the German nodded.

“It certainly is. While Ms. Pandor wasn’t one of our top agents, her skills are none the less important to the Psychonauts and her disappearing is far from ideal. Finding out what happened to her has been assigned as our team’s top priority.”

“Well, is there anything we could do to help?” Fred piped up and the two senior agents looked over at him in confusion.

“What do you mean darling?” Milla asked and the counselor fidgeted nervously with the hem of his shirt as he replied.

“Well, I mean we’re technically part of the Psychonauts to now, even if we’re just in training, right? So that means this agent is one of our buddies too. And it’s only right to try and help out our friends whenever we can right?”

“I agree!” Edgar exclaimed, clapping a hand down on his companion’s shoulder as he turned to face the assembled agents.

“If there’s anything we can do to help and find this missing girl, we’re more than happy to do so!”

Boyd and Gloria nodded along in agreement as Sasha’s gaze scanned over them, the German man’s head tilting in thought.

“Well, I suppose more eyes on the ground would certainly help. And since Mrs. Pandor wasn’t on a mission or anything, this could be a fairly safe environment for you all to get some field experience...”

“Well, I think it sounds like a great idea!” Raz chipped in, folding his arms and nodding wisely, earning an eye roll and a sigh from the older agent.

“...Very well, I suppose it couldn’t hurt.”

“Excellent! Don’t you all worry, I’ll get all the arrangements handled! Just be ready to go in a few hours and remember to pack warmly!” Milla replied, clapping her hands together cheerfully, as Raz gave out a quiet cheer.

The three agents departed quickly after that, leaving the group to make arrangements. It took a bit of scrambling to get everything organized with the rest of the schools staff, but soon enough they found themselves packing.

“I sure hope that poor gal is ok. Hopefully we can find her quick.” Boyd mused, leaning hard onto his suitcase in order to try and get it to lock around the mound of sweaters and other winterwear inside.

“Oh, I’m sure she’s just fine Boyd dear. Those Psychonauts are a tough bunch after all. No doubt she’ll appreciate your concern when we do find her though.” Gloria reassured him, folding up a thick woolen dress to tuck into one of her own bags.

“I must admit, I’m a bit excited. I’ve never been to a ski lodge before.” Edgar pipped up, an excited smile on his face as Fred let out an amused laugh.

“Can’t say I have either. Well, cept for this one time back in college. And with all the drinks that weekend, I can barely remember it. I’m sure it’s not gotta be anything tooooo over the top. Those places always talk themselves up.”

*

“Holy hell, they were not talking this place up.”  Fred muttered, his and the rest of the motley crews jaws dropping open in shock as they leaned out the windows of the truck to stare at the vista unfolding before them.

The place was really less of a lodge and more of a small village, what with the amount of connected buildings that made it up. The whole residence was constructed of pale wood, stone and brass, all woven together into a beautiful work of architectural engineering at the base of the snowy mountain. As they pulled into the parking lot at the place’s edge, they passed beneath a large ornate arch reading “Goldsmuth Lodge and Resort”.

“Yeah, Tanya does not mess around when it comes to her vacations. No really surprised, that girl barely gets any time off.” Oleander agreed, nodding in appreciating at the sight as the car slowed. When Milla and Sasha had announced their new plan to the other higher-up, the man had been assigned to the case as an additional supervisor, as well as another pair of eyes. Raz had tried to convince Lili to come along as well, but apparently there was few things the girl hated more than cold weather, not too much of a surprise coming from a florapath, so his requests had fallen on deaf ears.

Once their oversized vehicle had stopped, their collective group spilled out to stretch, several backs popping after the lengthy ride. They couldn’t very well retain their cover if they came flying in on a Psychonauts jet after all, so they’d been forced to stash it at one of the organizations safe houses and drive the rest of the way instead.

“Well then, let’s unpack and get checked in. The sooner we can find Ms. Pandor, the better.” Sasha announced, adjusting his glasses as he scanned the large plaza for the proper entrance.

There was suddenly a yelp and the sound of tumbling luggage from the rear of the vehicle. Glancing around the back of the truck, they found a mound of bags and suitcases that had no doubt tumbled free when the hatch had opened. A moment later a bag fell away as a familiar blue head popped up out of the pile and swiveled to look at them, the figure immediately giving them a sheepish smile, a hand also emerging from the pile to give them an awkward wave.

“I still can’t believe you convinced HQ to let us bring Loboto along.” Raz mused in amusement, Oleander shaking his head as he walked over to help extract the rehabilitated (in progress) criminal from his luggage prison.

“Well, Cagliosto is certainly in desperate need of some outside socialization. A relaxing place like this could be perfectly helpful with his recovery, darling!” Milla replied with a chuckle as she watched Morry lever the skinnier man up and almost fall over himself in the process. The former mad scientist quickly grabbed the agent by the front of his coat in a panic to keep him upright, the two flushing as the motion inadvertently tugged them chest to chest. Sasha gave as an amused eyeroll as the German could feasibly manage, while Milla and Raz gave a quiet giggle at his side. The two former villains had been dancing around each other for months now, much to the amusement, and occasionally frustration, of everyone watching.

“Well, like Sasha said, the sooner we get inside, the sooner we can really start enjoying ourselves. Here, let me help you there dear.” Gloria smiled, the rest of the group trailing after her as she stepped up to help retrieve the fallen luggage, Loboto giving her a thankful, if sheepish smile in return. While the four had long since forgiven Caligosto for all the asylum business (after all, he had been cursed at the time with, as he himself put it, the “insanity of a manatee”), things were still pretty awkward between them. Gloria though, every friendly, had doing her best to help bridge the gap in the meantime.

It took a bit to gather up all the luggage, and even longer to find the right entrance, but eventually they managed. The walk there had been interesting at least. Everywhere they looked, there was some new, interesting winter activity the place seemed to offer, from ice skating to toboggan rental. Their own rather modge-podge group was also getting a number of curious onlookers, which was far from ideal, but there wasn’t much they could do about it really.

The lodge’s lobby was wonderfully warm compared to the wintery chill outside, and they could already feel the scattered flakes of snow melting on their coats as they strode up to the main desk.

“Hello there! Can I help you ladies and gentlemen?” The brunette behind the desk asked with a smile, Sasha plucking his glasses off to wipe away the fog they’d accrued from the heat inside as he spoke.

“Reservations for Nein, Vodello and Gouten.”

“Alright then, just a moment!”

The young woman’s finger flew along the keyboard in a blur for several moment’s before she paused, biting her lip in concern.

“Oh, well there seems to be a small problem. You ladies and gentlemen called for a reservation rather last minute and it seems your rooms aren’t quite ready yet. My deepest apologies. You are all more than welcome to wait in the lodges lounge till they’re ready, free of charge.” She replied, giving an apologetic bow of her head as she gestured towards a pair of open doors nearby.

“Oh, it’s no problem at all darling!” Milla replied, waving a hand nonchalantly.

“Apologies for the rather sudden reservations. Our little trip was a bit of a recent development.”

“Thank you for your understanding Ms. I’ll come and inform you once your rooms are ready.”

The lounge was somehow even more impressive than the grand lobby they’d just stepped out of. He place was lit in a dim but cozy manner, a long bar stretching along one wall. The rest of the space was filled with a number of comfortable tables, armchairs and couches that encircled a handful of square open-sided pillar fireplaces that dotted the room here and there. With an excited “ooo!”, Raz rushed off to look around with Loboto trailing after him, the bunch chuckling at his antics as Sasha glanced around.

“How about you all stay here for a bit? We need to ask around the staff and see if we can find anything regarding Ms. Pandor’s disappearance.” He proposed after a moment.

“Are you sure? Is there any way we can help?” Boyd asked, fidgeting nervously.

“No, it would be best if you aren’t seen with us too much while we’re actively investigating. To help avoid casting suspicion on you lot as well and all.”

“Keep your eyes and ears open while we’re gone soldiers! Always vigilant!” Oleander commanded, giving them a little salute as the trio went off. Shaking her head in amusement at their antics, Gloria gestured toward the bar.

“Care for some drinks while we wait boys?”

Despite the lodge’s rather bustling crowd, there were only a few people at the bar and they were easily able to find seats.

“Hello there folks, what can I get you?” The bartender, a man looking somewhere in his 30’s, asked.

“Hot Chocolate!”

Gloria’s yelp of surprise at the sudden shout quickly devolved into giggles as Raz and the former villain popped up beside her, clambering up onto the next stools.

“And a cider for me sir.”

As the bartender went to work assembling the groups drink orders, he glanced over at them with a smile.

“Don’t think I’ve seen you folks around before. Welcome. What’s the occasion for the visit?”

The group glanced at each other, all trying their best to hide their slight panic. They hadn’t exactly been properly prepped for people asking them about their motives yet after all.

“Oh, uh, we, uh, came to visit with a friend we heard was staying here.” Boyd stuttered nervously. Picking up on what he was trying, Gloria slipped straight into her old actress skills and gave a sigh.

“Yes, a Ms. Tanya Pandor. She’s one of our old students. Unfortunately, it seems that we may have just missed her.”

The bartender paused, tapping his chin in thought.

“Ms. Pandor you say? Actually, I do remember her. Very exuberant. And you heard right, she seems to have left already. Was the talk of the staff rumor mill for a day or two actually. Some of her coworkers called asking to speak with her on some matter, but when the staff went up to let her know about the call, she was nowhere to bee seen. Must have left damn late at night for nobody to notice her. Which is odd really...”

“Odd, how?” Loboto asked, the group jumping a moment at his voice, seemingly having forgotten he was there, before leaning towards the bartender in interest, the man glancing around before lowering his voice.

“Well, we’re really not supposed to divulge things about the other guests, so you didn’t hear this from me, but I may have been one of the last people to see her. You see, I was assigned as a ski slope guard that day, you know, to watch and make sure nobody got injured and needed medical attention. I was stationed on one of our more challenging hills, the Black Diamond one, when I saw Ms. Pandor go whipping by. I know it has her because she had a very distinctive ski jacket she always seemed to be wearing. This whole black, purple and gold affair. Plus she has been very kind and gracious to the staff. We tend to remember those sorts of things. Anyways, she gave me a wave as she went past and seemed to be having the time of her life. It seems so strange that she would leave so abruptly without saying anything. I do hope something didn’t upset her.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry too much about it, dear.” Gloria replied with a smile, waving a hand nonchalantly.

“Tanya has always been the spirited type, zipping from place to place. Just a little lightning bolt.”

“Yes, she certainly did seem like that type. I’m sure you’re right. Ah, that’s right, your drinks!”

The group was quickly presented with their fine beverages, including a healthy topping of whipped cream and sprinkles for Raz and Loboto’s chocolatey treats. Edgar and Gloria’s cider was just as delicious, rich and warm. (Fred and Boyd’s spiked eggnog was perhaps not the most professional thing to be drinking during a spy investigation, but nobody was about to call them out on it.) For a time they sat at the bar, chatting away to the bartender about the various activities around the lodge, before Raz suddenly caught the shape of their other companions watching them from a nearby doorway. Nudging Gloria, he nodded over towards them, and the woman took the hint, turning to the bartender with a smile.

“Well, I’m afraid we must be going now dear. We can’t spend all vacation here in the lounge after all. Thank you for the lovely time.”

“My pleasure Ms. I hope to see you all again soon.” He replied with a nod and smile as they stepped away from the bar, his eyes widening in surprise and delight when he noticed the generous tip the group had left tucked under one of the empty mugs.

Following their missing members lead, the group ducked over into a more private corner of the lounge to meet them.

“Did you guys find anything?” Raz asked quietly, Sasha giving a frustrated sigh in return.

“No, unfortunately not. None of the night staff noticed her leaving that day. Which leaves us back at square one.”

“Well, luckily for you, we just might have a clue.” Fred replied with a smile, the trio looking over at him in surprise.

“Wait, really?!” Oleander exclaimed and the counselor gave him an unamused look.

“Geez buddy, give us some credit. We’re not completely useless. But yeah, apparently somebody saw Tanya out on one of the ski slopes earlier that day. Whatcha wanna bet there might be some sort of clue somewhere out there?” He replied, Oleander reaching up to stroke his mustache in thought as he considered the other man’s words.

“I’d say you’d probably be right on the money. Maybe Pandor saw something out there that made her haul ass out of here, though I’ve never known her for the scaredy cat type. And that would still leave the question of where she went.  But it’s a lead.”

“How’s about this?” Sasha pipped up, waving a hand to get all their attention.

“The three of us have worked out with the management to take a look in Ms. Pandor’s room, see if she maybe left some sort of clue behind. While we’re doing that, you six could head out onto the slopes and take a look around. A group of casual vacation goers, including a child, would likely draw a lot less attention than the three of us for the time being.”

“Well, I think it sounds like a marvelous plan!” Loboto replied exuberantly, pausing and rubbing his neck sheepishly when they all turned to look at him.

“If that’s alright with you all of course.”

He was met with a chorus of headshakes and “no, that’d be fine”s, so he grinned once more and nodded in satisfaction.

“Sounds like a plan then!”

“Just please all be careful.” Milla replied, eyes full of concern, and Raz gave her a comforting smile.

“Don’t worry, we’ll be ok! Besides, whenever are we not careful?”

The 50-yard stare of no doubt Whispering Rock related war flashbacks that she gave him in return spoke volumes.

*

“Thank god for government provided tailoring. Trying to find snow wear for proportions like mine is hellish.” Fred sighed quietly in satisfaction, adjusting his perfectly fitting ski jacket to a chorus of chuckles. The 6 of them were currently waiting in line at the equipment rental shop. Once they’d gotten their luggage up to the rooms and finally unpacked, they’d found the new sets of winter gear amongst their belongings, perfectly tailored and clearly a gift from the Psychonauts organization. How said organization knew their measurements was a mystery they neither had, nor wanted, the answer to.

“I must admit, they are rather fetching, aren’t they?” Gloria replied with a smile, giving a little twirl to let the hem of her longer coat poof out for a moment like the skirt of a dress.

Eventually the line cleared out enough for them to enter the small store displaying the various types of equipment available for rental and purchase. Splitting up to look, they all quickly selected their preferred styles. It didn’t take long for most of them to reconvene near the counter, each carrying a fairly simple pair of skis. There was no need for the super high-grade stuff, none of them were professionals after all. When Raz came running back with a snowboard, none of them were really that surprised. Skis had seemed a bit boring for the boy’s exuberant personality to begin with. What did draw their shock however was when Fred came trotting up behind the young psychic, a long light blue board slung over his shoulder.

“Uh, mi amor, are you sure that’s what you meant to get?” Edgar asked, eyeing the board in equal parts confusion and concern, and Fred laughed in return.

“Oh yeah, don’t worry about it. Never said I had been using skis when I went someplace like this back in college. Always been useless with them. Snowboards were a different story though. Used to skateboard a lot back in high school too. Now let’s go see if I’ve still got any of that old muscle memory still rattling around.”

As a group that was inexperienced, and in some of their cases completely unfamiliar, with the equipment, getting into their rented pieces ended up a tad more challenging than intended. Boyd nearly poked himself in the eye with one of his poles and Raz promptly fell backwards into a snowdrift after figuring out how hook his boots into the board, but eventually they managed to get their nonsense together enough to try and get in line for the ski-lift that would take them up to the Black Slope.

Try being the key word.

Just as they were in the process of settling themselves at the back of the line, a slightly nervous voice called out behind them.

“Hmm, now I don’t claim to be an expert on skiing, but something tells me this isn’t how it’s supposed to go.”

Turning to look back, they found Loboto had not only somehow managed to put both of his skis on backwards, but was now also slowly sliding away from them down the slight decline, ski poles digging into the snow in an attempt to stop himself. Boyd, being the closest to him, darted out to try and grab the man, but missed his hand by a hair, and he began to pick up speed.

“Whoa! Look out there!”

Someone suddenly darted behind the former mad scientist, catching him by the shoulders and stopping his uncontrolled journey. As the person carefully pushed the man back up towards the group, they got a better look at them. It was a young man in his early 20’s, with pale skin and messy sandy blonde hair.

“There ya go!” He announced, settling the dentist back in front of the rest of the group and crouching. down to look at his skis.

“Ah, here’s your problem! Here, this should help.”

With deft fingers, he unhooked Loboto from the skis, flipped them around and had him step back in, hooking him securely into place.

“Uh, thank you. I’m a bit of a beginner.” The blue skinned villain thanked him, cheeks flushing the tiniest bit of dark blue in embarrassment, the younger man glancing over at the sign announcing the coming hill at his words.

“Well, I wouldn’t exactly recommend this hill to someone still getting their snow legs, but I can’t fault you for wanting to jump into the challenge head first!” He replied with a merry laugh.

“Oh, don’t worry, we’ll be very careful. Thank you for your help, Mr...?” Gloria replied, the young man jumping to attention when he realized her pause was requesting and answer and reaching out a hand to shake.

“Oh, just call me Josh! A pleasure to meet you folks!”

He quickly exchanged handshakes with them all, Raz included, as the line to the chair lift drew shorter.

“You certainly seem to know your stuff.” Edgar complemented him, glancing over as Loboto turned his ankle this way and that to look at the ski mechanism in fascination.

“I would certainly hope so, considering all the years I’ve worked here! I know all the ins and outs like the back of my hand!”

“Well isn’t that wonderful. This seems like a splendid place to work.” Gloria replied with a smile.

“Oh it is, I couldn’t be luckier. Oh, looks like it’s you guys turn!”

Turning to look, they found the couple behind them settling into their chair on the lift, the next one incoming. As they stepped up to wait on it, Josh stepped away, giving them a wave as he turned to leave.

“Hopefully I see you guys around! If you’ve got any questions, just let me know. If want to know anything about the lodge or hills, I’m your guy!”

“We definitely will!” Fred called after him, the group raising their arms to wave back, before prepping to climb aboard the lift.

The benches ended up only being able to fit 3 people, so they ended up separated into two groups, Fred, Boyd and Edgar in the first chair, with Raz, Gloria and Caligosto grabbing the second. For the former, the ride up was honestly pretty pleasant and peaceful, the view from up so high showing them a beautiful vista.

“Wow, we really are up high huh?” Boyd, wondered out loud, glancing down over the side of the chair at the forest spread out below them.

“Si, we certainly are. Hmm, I wonder, is this the sort of view you normally have mi amor?” Edgar asked, looking at the lanky man between them with a cheeky smirk. Fred gave the painter an unamused look as on his other side Boyd let out a snorted laugh, breaking into giggles.

“Seriously? Your pulling out the tall guy jokes?”

With a grin and chuckle, the Hispanic man leaned up to give the taller man a peck on the cheek as their other partner leaned against his shoulder in a giggling fit.

“Apologies mi amor, I couldn’t resist.”

In the other chair however, things were going...less pleasantly.

Raz gazed down at the trees below as they rode along, humming some song the piano player in the lobby had been playing. Feeling something bump his leg, he glanced over, seeing Loboto’s legs jittering back and forth enough to jostle against him. Now that he thought about it, the whole man was shaking. Glancing up at the dentist’s face, he found the older man’s gaze fixed straight down at the ground. His hands were fisted in and tugging nervously at the strings of his ski hat (they’d all agreed the shower cap might be a bit too conspicuous), causing the large pop pom on top to bounce rhythmically. And judging by his harsh breathing, the guy was probably about 2 steps away from hyperventilating.

“Um, Loboto?” The young boy asked, seeming to snap the dentist out of his daze, at least partially, both he and Gloria looking over at him.

“Are you ok?”

“Now that I notice, you do seem a bit...tense, dear. Are you feeling alright?” Gloria added gently

“Oh, just fine! Happy as a clam! No reason at all to feel nervous!” He replied exuberantly, the smile on his face horribly forced, eyes darting to the drop below them every few seconds.

Raz stared at him, mind puzzling over the info. The slightly loony man was usually fairly fearless, sometimes to the point of his own peril. So what could have gotten him so stirred up?

Glancing down at the ground far below them, something suddenly clicked in the boy’s head. A memory rose to the front of his mind, one of a night at an asylum what seemed so long ago, and a certain dentist’s supposed demise at the hands of a turtle powered tank. Raz felt the pit of his stomach drop, guilt sweeping over him at the realization.

“Uh, hey, is there any way this about the time you...you know?” Raz asked gently, hand gestures miming the image of a person falling off something, and flinched when the man’s head snapped around to look at him, smile wide.

“What?! No, no, of course not!...Maybe...probably...” He replied, his vibrato visibly deflating as he tried his best not to look down.

“Oh, Loboto dear, it’s alright. There’s nothing to worry about.” Gloria fretted, catching onto the issue and reaching out to pat the blue man’s back.

“Yeah, these ski lifts are like, totally safe!” Raz exclaimed, in an attempt to help.

As though mocking them, the lift jerked for a moment, sending them swinging a bit. Loboto sucked in a sharp breath at the motion, hand instinctively tightening where it had been wrapped lightly around Raz’s forearm in a grip that would definitely be leaving bruises the next day. Gloria grimaced when she saw Raz wince, raising a hand to tap her chin in thought.

“Oh dear, well this isn’t good.”

After a moment an idea hit her, and she leaned over to catch the mad dentist’s gaze smiling gently.

“Loboto dear, have I ever told you about the first time I ever took to the stage?”

The man paused in his panicking, seeming to calm slightly as he gave her a confused look, Raz looking at her in equal confusion but seeming to roll with it.

“Um, not that I’m aware of?”

“Well, let me tell you. I’ve preformed on hundreds of stages of the years, all over the world. The theater was my lifeblood. But the first time I performed in front of people, oh, I was terrified.”

“R-Really?” The man replied, eyes widening.

“Oh, absolutely. It was the worst case of stage fright I ever felt. I was absolutely petrified. My palms were sweaty, my head was spinning. I completely froze up on stage. And that wasn’t the only time. No no, I’ve had stage fright hundreds of times in my career. I almost refused to go on stage for my own awards ceremony, I was so nervous. But let me tell you something very important I’ve learned.”

She leaned in close, taking the man’s hands gently in her own, both he and Raz leaning in in fascination.

“There’s nothing wrong with being afraid. Everyone fears something. I’m scared of messing up on stage, overwhelmingly so. Young Raz here has his own fears, as do you. And there’s nothing wrong with that. Being brave doesn’t mean the absence of fear. Anyone who says so is an idiot. No, to be brave is to look fear in the face and still continue on in spite of it.”

Leaning back, she looked out at the forest surrounding them.

“This really is a lovely view, isn’t it?”

“Yes...Yes I suppose it is.” The dentist replied quietly, gazing out at the landscape around them seemingly with new eyes. He still seemed nervous certainly, gaze fixed firmly on the horizon in an attempt not to look down, but his shaking had stopped and his breathing had steadied. From behind his back, Raz gave the actress two big thumbs up and a grin.

As they neared the peak of the hill, they could the others laughing about something in the chair ahead of them, quickly hurrying off of it to make room as they reached the landing. As soon as it was their turn, Loboto practically threw himself off the ski lift, clearly trying to reach Terra Firma as quickly as possible. Gloria and Raz followed at a more normal rate behind him, pausing for a moment when the boy looked up at her.

“Not gonna lie, that was kinda awesome.”

“Why thank you my dear.” She replied sweetly, before giving him a little grin and leaning in closer as she lowered her voice.

“I’ve had a lot of practice at that speech. You’d be amazed how many new actors and actresses get opening night jitters. Still works like a charm.”

Leaving the boy to sputter in surprise for a moment, she skied on to where the others were waiting at the hills peak.

“So, what’s the plan?” Fred asked, adjusting his feet in the snowboard as Raz caught back up with them.

“Keep together and keep our eyes out for anything suspicious I guess?” The boy replied with a shrug, earning a nod from the rest of the group.

“Sounds like a plan bud.”

After some quick adjustment of clothing, equipment and whatever else, they set off.

It became quickly apparent that none of them were even close to professional skiers, though some were faring better than others. Fred’s muscle memory did seem to be kicking in, handling his snowboard with surprisingly few complications, while Gloria’s seemingly natural graceful-ness was doing her skis well. Raz took a spill every now and them, but likewise, his acrobat training seemed to be translating pretty well to snow-sports.

The others weren’t faring quite as well. Edgar seemed to be developing a habit of falling over onto his back pretty often, his large upper body pulling him over whenever he began to lose his balance, while Boyd seemed to be having the opposite problem, having taken more than a few headers face first into the snow already. Loboto was surprisingly staying up pretty well, perhaps his long legs were to blame for his better balance, but every few second he would begin to weave wildly back and forth on the slope before correcting himself, only for the cycle to repeat again shortly thereafter. The whole lot of them were certainly getting a lot of curious looks from the more advanced skiers that would occasionally pass them, the occasional trail guard they passed seeming even more concerned.

With all the chaos, it’s a wonder any of them ever saw anything.

“Whoa, wait everybody!” Raz suddenly cried about halfway down the trail, skidding to a sudden stop. He was nearly bowled over by the others in their attempts to stop, Edgar managing to fall onto his back once more and slid a few feet past him with an exasperated sigh.

“Dios mio, this is becoming tiring. What’s the matter mi amigo?”

“Look at those trees over there.” He replied, pointing to part of the forest that lined either side of the path. Glancing to where he pointed, they spotted what he seemed to be gesturing to. A swath of low branches in a certain area were snapped and bent, as though something had run into them or pulled them out of the way.

“Yeah, that definitely looks like it could be something.” Boyd replied with the critical eye of a security guard, the whole group moving off the path and towards the woodland to examine them. Upon closer inspection, there was most definitely something amiss. While the branches closer to the path broke inwards towards the forest, others further in seemed to break outwards.

“Hey, what’s that?” Raz asked, squinting further into the woodland. Unhooking himself from the snowboard, he darted further into the trees, moving to the edge of the breakage, and crouching down, seemingly digging around near one large trees roots. After a moment he seemed to free whatever he was holding and started back in the others direction.

“Look at this guys.”

He held it up for them to see, the group leaning in for a closer look. It seemed to be a long scrap of torn fabric, patterned in thick, alternating purple and black stripes, with a flash of gold along one edge.

“What do you guys think it is?” Boyd asked in bewilderment, squinting at the piece. Beside him, Edgar gave a sudden small gasp.

“Wait, didn’t that bartender say that Señorita Pandor wore a jacket in these colors?”

The group gapped at him for a moment before turning back to the scrap with renewed interest.

“Holy hell guys, I think we just found an actual clue.” Fred sputtered in amazement, Raz’s eyes lighting up.

“Hey maybe there’s more stuff to find back there! Come on, let’s go look!” the boy crowed, moving to run back into the trees.

He didn’t get very far though, as the wind suddenly kicked up, nearly knocking him over as it ripped through the trees with a swirl of snow.

“Geeze, I though trees were good for avoiding wind. Come on!”

He tried to take a few more steps forwards, only to get knocked back by another gust, being forced to take a few steps back to the group this time. Quickly the wind began to build, howling around the lot of them and kicking up the snow into near white out conditions.

“Damn, they’ve got some crazy weather in these parts!” Boyd called over the noise, Fred replying as he threw up his arms as much as he could to block his face.

“Not the sort I’ve ever seen before!”

“Wait.”

They all quieted, turning to look over Loboto, who was currently looking around in confusion.

“Now, I may have been called crazy one or twice in the past, but does anyone else hear something odd?”

The group stilled, listening hard over the wind. All at the same time, they seemed to catch it, Fred glancing around the group in sudden nervousness.

“Does that sound like growling to anyone else?”

Indeed, the sound mixed in amongst the howling of the wind was much deeper and guttural, rumbling through the air.

Crack

They all froze at the loud sound of splintering wood, all slowly turning in unison to look deeper into the woods. A shape appeared through the blur of snow, the growling growing louder and the shape becoming clearer as it drew towards them. Eventually it stopped at the edge of the broken branches and their hearts all collectively stopped as they made out what it was.

A massive beast, easily 8 or 9 feet tall, bipedal, and clothed in long white hair, only it’s slightly darker face and palms peeking out through the thick fur. For a long, drawn-out moment, there was nothing but the howling of the wind. The only thing to interrupt it was a tiny, likely instinctual whisper from Raz.

“Holy shit.”

The beast didn’t seem to like that very much and its growl deepened. With one massive hand, it reached up and tore a branch from the tree beside it with the sound of screeching wood, before reaching back and hurling it at the group. With a collective cry of surprise and panic they all managed to throw themselves out of the way of it, the large chunk of wood landing amongst the other broken branches nearby. Its failure seemed to enrage the beast even more and it reached down, clawing and tearing a truly gargantuan chunk of snow up out of the ground. It lifted it up and above its head, clearly reeling back to launch it at them, and Raz let out another, this time very foreign sounding, curse.

“Oh, that looks like a real bad time! Boyd! I’m gonna need some help!”

With that, the boy darted out in front of the rest of the group, the security guard seeming to pick up on his plan and following along behind him. Just as the beast hurled the massive snowball, Raz threw his hands up to conjure a psychic shield, Boyd’s own hands joining just beside his to release a spray of flame outside the barrier just as it contacted.

The snow clump exploded around them. Most of it dissolved into steam under the sudden onslaught of the fire, what remained splattering against the curved wall of psychic force in a spray of water and slush, flying off on either side of the group.

“Where is it?! Can anybody see what it’s doing?!” Raz called out, trying to squint through the cloud of steam now surrounding them.

“I don’t know, I can’t see!” Boyd replied, waving his hands to put out the small flames sparking on his gloves.

As the steam was cleared by the slowly calming wind, Raz blinked in surprise at the scene before him, shield disappearing as he lowered his hands.

The beast had vanished, seemingly into thin air.

For a moment they all simply sat there, most of the group having fallen to the ground in the scramble to get out of harm’s way, the air thick with unspoken disbelief. Till finally, Fred said what they’d all been thinking.

“Was that a goddamn yeti???”

“In my professional dentist opinion...yes.” Loboto replied, staring equally slack jawed at the spot.

“What?? Where did it go?? A beast that big does not simply disappear into thin air??” Edgar sputtered, clambering back to his feet as though a higher viewpoint would somehow reveal the 9 foot tall creatures hiding place.

“I...I don’t...-“

“Oi! What are you lot doing back there!?”

The whole group let out a collection of shrieks and yelps at the sudden shout, whipping around to look behind them.

An older man armed with a hefty walking stick stood at the edge of the ski trail, staring into the woods at them with a grumpy scowl on his face.

“Wha- who are you?!” Raz asked, at a loss for words, and the old man’s expression seemed to sour even further.

“Ambrose. I’m the grounds keeper here. And I should be asking you the same thing!”

“Did...Did you see...?” Boyd asked, dazed by his seeming unconcern for the fucking yeti that had been in front of them 20 seconds before. The old man leaned to glance at the place he was gesturing to, brow creasing.

“See? I don’t see anything. All I see is a bunch of troublemakers putzing about in the woods. Get out of there! You’re supposed to stay on the trail!”

Like a bunch of scolded children, they all quickly gathered themselves and scurried back out onto the path in front of the man, who pointed an angry finger at them.

“Now don’t let me go catchin you messing about in there again, understood?”

They all obediently nodded and, seemingly satisfied, he turned away with a nod, grumbling the likes of “people these days” as he slowly hiked further up the path.

“...Ok, so we’re all in agreement that we gotta tell the rest of the gang about that right?” Fred asked, seemingly still dumbfounded, and was answered by a chorus of nods.

The rest of the trip down the hill was largely uneventful. Somehow, an encounter with a mythical creature has seemingly improved their snow-sports skills, and they managed not to have any more major spills on the rest of the way down the mountain. The sun was setting by the time they reached the bottom and, after getting their equipment situated, the six ventured back through the main lodge in search of their three companions.

They did eventually find them back in the lounge, tucked away in a corner table with their drinks.

“Ah, hello everyone!” Milla greeted them with a smile and wave as they made their way over.

“Did you have a good day out on the slopes?”

“Uh, yeah, it was, uh, pretty, pretty good.” Fred replied, sharing a look with others.

“How’s about you guys?”

Sasha gestured for them to sit, voice lowered as he spoke.

“Well, we looked over Ms. Pandor’s room and it was just as empty as we’d been told. Not a trace of her. The only things we found was the Psychonauts bug she put in the rooms phone when she got here. Which means that she likely didn’t leave willingly, if she didn’t have the chance to remove it. That or she simply forgot it when she left.”

“Yeah, and that sort of absentminded-ness doesn’t sound like her. Girl might leave her workspace a mess, but I’ve been on missions with her before, and she’s a neat freak when it comes to hotels and stuff. All the tidying she does, she probably leaves them cleaner than it was when she got there. Gotta ask her if she’s got some sort of service industry trauma from college or something...” Oleander added, trailing off into rambling at the end.

“So did you six find anything out on the slopes?”

The group glanced at each other and eventually it was Gloria who haltingly began, realizing just how insane what she was about to say was going to sound.

“Well, there may have been a bit of an incident out on the trails...”

“We got attacked by a yeti!” Raz suddenly blurted, bringing the conversation to a screeching halt. Sasha turned to look at him with a truly flummoxed expression, seemingly completely thrown for a loop at the boys’ words.

“...R...Run that by me again??”

“Well, it’s a bit of a long story.” Boyd replied with a sigh.

It took quite a while to explain the events that had befallen them all, added to by the fact that dinner arrived in the middle of it, but eventually they got the whole incident out in the open, the three senior agents staring at them in bewilderment by the end.

“Are you sure it wasn’t some sort of polar bear or something? Those things can get big as hell when they’re on their hind legs.” Oleander offered and Gloria shook her head.

“Now I know how this all sounds, Agent Oleander, but we know what we saw, and that was most definitely not a bear.”

“Plus, we found this!” Raz added, reaching into his jacket and pulling out the fabric scrap, handing it over to the trio.

“The bartender we talked to said he saw her wearing a coat like that!”

“Well, I’ll admit, this definitely looks like Tanny’s sorta style.” Oleander admitted with a shrug, handing it over to Sasha to look at.

“Regardless of what this beast you saw might be, there is most definitely more going on here than a simple wayward agent.” The german acquiesced.

“Well, how’s about we all get a good night sleep and continue the investigation tomorrow. You all must be exhausted.” Milla offered kindly and Edgar gave a groan as he stretched, back popping loudly.

“After the beating we took out there, you don’t know the half of it Ms. Milla.”

Luckily for them, their rooms at the lodge were, just like the rest of the property, amazing. They’d been separated across 4 adjacent, and connected, rooms, with the senior agents sharing one and the former asylum members another, leaving Loboto and Raz to bunk solitarily. Their mother organization had, knowing and being blessedly supportive all sorts of relationships, even been kind enough to book the four a California King, while Sasha, Milla and Oleander were more than happy to settle for a King.

“Ugh, we literally just started doing spy stuff and I already feel like an old man waiting for retirement.” Fred groaned, stretching and feeling some muscle in his back twinge.

“Hehe, implying you aren’t already an old man.” Edgar teased him with a chuckle from where he was kneeling in massage position over the lanky man’s hips, his own aching back already having been kindly tended to by Gloria before her bath.

“Hey, keep up that talk and I’ll have to revoke smooching privileges.” The counselor shot back, pointing a finger over his shoulder threateningly at the larger man, even as he melted blissfully beneath he ministrations of the artist’s talented hands. Edgar finally managed to work out the last knot at the base of the man’s spine and Fred gave a little groan of relief, going boneless on the mattress beneath him.

“You boys better not be having too much fun in there without me!” Gloria called from the bathroom and Edgar laughed, smoothing his hands lovingly up and down the thinner man’s back a few times before climbing off him.

“Alright, all done. Time to move mi amor.”

Fred gave a little grumble that sounded a lot like “Sleepy. Don’t wanna.” and the painter rolled his eyes fondly, grabbing him and, like an owner with a lazy puppy, simply dragged him out of the way, patting the spot that opened up.

“Your turn.” He called over to Boyd, who’d been looking out onto the rooms snow covered balcony that overlooked the lodge’s main square, and the guard abandoned his post with a grin.

“Oh thank goodness.” He replied, shucking his shirt off and flopping onto the bed with a sigh, sending the nearby Fred bouncing slightly. He gave another grateful sigh as he folded his arms beneath his head and Edgar set to work.

“Damn, today was a crazy day. The more I think about it the less it makes sense.” He mused, earning a snorted laugh from a slightly more awake Fred as the man reached out to run a sleepy hand through the guard’s hair.

“That’s an understatement.”

“Well, I must admit, I find it all a little bit exciting.”

The three men glanced back to find Gloria emerging from the large bathroom, dressed in a fluffy towel and currently braiding her long damp hair.

“Yes, there’s a been a bit of danger I suppose, but what adventure doesn’t have some danger?”

“Sure as hell beats grading papers at least.” Fred agreed, earning a collective laugh.

“Would you like one when I’m done, mi bella?” Edgar asked, gesturing to the massage in progress, and Gloria shook her head, stooping down to give him a kiss on the cheek regardless.

“No, but it’s sweet of you to ask.”

Soon enough they all found themselves properly prepared for bed, lights flipped off, and beneath the plush covers of the bed, tangling together in the warm heap they’d so quickly become accustomed to.

“Goodnight you guys. Love you.” Fred murmured sleepily, answered by a small chorus of similar sentiments.

Before long, the four found themselves drifting off, eager to see what new, and potentially yeti-related, adventures awaited them in the morning.

[bisexualklausmikaelson]

the sinking man (9/?)

.

nine: the last night you'll spend alone

.

The sky is orange today - looking almost as if someone set it on fire.

Kol Mikaelson watches from his balcony as the war rumbles on. Destruction, chaos, violence -

“Did you see that?” Rebekah whispers, hair in her face, mouth slightly open. “It’s wolf, isn’t it?” She croaks, eyes peering over the horizon.

Kol follows her gaze, he sees the grassy fields, the lavenders his sister planted in the meadows, the tall trees -

And then, a pair of bright yellow eyes watch him from a far.

“If it’s that little one from the other night again, I swear I’m not going to be able to spare its life again - tell Nik’s little strumpet that -“

“Kol,” Rebekah interrupts, watching the wolves surround their property, appearing all along the edges of their home. “It’s not just one wolf.”

He recognizes Jackson from the other night, but the others - they’re new.

“What are they all doing here?” Rebekah wonders, counting tens, twenties…no…hundreds of them.

The eyes multiply like insects, Kol feels as if his heart drops inside his stomach.

“I have no bloody idea.”

-

Orange - Hayley decides - is her least favourite colour.

It almost feels cruel, being safe inside this barrier spell inside Klaus Mikaelson’s mansion while the war outside rages on.

The other hybrids don’t seem bother by it at all. They still follow her around like lost puppies though, which is still pretty weird.

She tracks Tyler down in the evening, huddled up by a fire.

“Do you know what this is all about?” Hayley asks, as a few hybrids trail behind her.

“What do you mean?” He wonders.

She points them out, annoyed.

“Earlier,” Hayley sighs. “These guys wouldn’t share as much as a glance my way, now, they’re all googly-eyed like I’m sort of alien or something -”

“I don’t know,” he’s quick to answer her, all shifty and a bit nervous about what he’s about to say next. “It’s like…like they’re drawn to you,” Tyler says.

Hayley is quiet, taking a seat beside him as he seems to be coming to his own conclusion. She wanted to hear what he had to say.

“Wolves have a lot of history - as a species,” he explains. “A lot of it unfortunately, has been erased thanks to our weakness compared to the witches and vampires. We didn’t manage to survive as long, have as much to share from our past,” Tyler gathers, thinking of how little he knows about his own family.

She looks back at the wolves still looming around her, somehow, Hayley starts to think of them as lost children - the look in their eyes is so lonely and distant.

So much like another hybrid she knows.

“And,” Hayley breathes. “You think this is about my past? My family?”

Tyler takes a step back, side-eyeing her.

“I think,” he releases. “There’s something from your past that no one knows about, that’s probably why all the wolves are following you,” he reveals, sounding just a bit sinister.

She still can’t tell if he is a friend or a foe.

-

“Brother-”

Klaus bursts through the long mahogany coloured door with a swift kick, making his entrance as crude and loud as usual (walking right passed Elijah’s open arms).

“Niklaus,” he repeats, settling into the unfamiliarity in his brother’s scent.

Every time he sees him, he feels as though he is getting further and further away from him - Elijah wonders if Klaus even wants to see him, at this point.

“Cut the chit chat ‘Lijah,” he says, taking a quick look around his brother’s manor and spotting the array of wines he keeps stocked up on his dinner table. “Tell me, why did you want to see me?” Klaus continues, grabbing an old bottle of Bordeaux and opening it up.

Elijah sighs, taking a seat across from his brother, in their father’s old chair - like the patriarch that he is.

Then, Freya shows up, taking his mother’s seat beside Elijah - looking more and more like her, each and every day.

“I think you know why,” she whispers.

He observes her as she mimics Esther’s stature, from the length of her long ivory dress to the way she ties her hair. “Sister,” Klaus reminds himself. “What a lovely surprise,” he smirks.

Elijah notices the tension in the air - his wish for his family to get along seems for far gone at this point, he wonders if it’s even worth saving. “Take a seat, dear brother,” he advises. “We have much to discuss.”

Klaus scoffs, popping the bottle open, taking a large swig. “I’d like to make this visit brief, if you don’t mind,” he tells him, in the nicest way that he can. “I have something rather pressing to get back to,” a pair of wolf eyes flash in his mind’s eye and he swear it almost feels like home.

His brother is perceptive, he can tell something is different about Niklaus. “Your wolves, I presume?” He offers, studying the other’s expression for any semblance of redemption. “We’ve noticed quite a large amount of missing ones reported within the area,” Elijah explains.

“What exactly are you accusing me of?” Klaus chides, sounding a bit aggravated.

Freya’s hand slips into his as a form of support. Elijah closes his eyes, squeezes it tightly. “Nothing,” he sighs, breathing in. “I simply would like to propose an alliance,” he offers, breathing out.

Klaus hates this - how close these two are, it’s insufferable. He hates how close Rebekah and Kol are too, he doesn’t have that type of bond with any of his siblings. “An alliance?” He laughs.

“My witches, Elijah’s vampires, your wolves,” Freya steps in, noticing Elijah’s depleting state. “We could start a peace treaty, set an example for everyone else,” she suggests, eyes kind and soft.

Klaus can’t stand it - it’s like Esther’s ghost was looking right at him. “You actually think that’s going to work?” He jerks. “Ridiculous,” Klaus shakes his head, looking away from his sister.

Their mother had passed - long ago - when their father had been hunting them down for centuries on end. He called them abominations, monsters even. The first vampires created by their own witch mother who, in the end, was killed by her own creations.

Klaus still can’t forget the sight of Mikael setting Esther’s body aflame - none of them can.

“You have to at least try -”

“Might I remind you, dear sister,” he shouts this time, angered by the memory of it all. He wants to call her mother - to hold her close - to cry into her warm embrace. But instead, he resigns. “We are in the middle of a war, there is so such thing as peace in these times, only bloodshed.”

Klaus takes this as his cue to go, heading towards the door as he feels his sadness bubbling up from inside.

“Stop,” and suddenly, he can’t move. He looks back to see his older sister’s outstretched hand, casting a spell holding him locked in place. “I’m not letting you leave unless you agree to our deal,” she informs him, walking closer to him.

“Freya-” Elijah runs between them, standing in front of Niklaus, almost as if to protect him.

He’s surprised that his brother still cares so much for him and yet, Freya’s fiery spirit betrays him.

“If it’s a fight you want,” Klaus grits, pushing off the spell, eyes glowing like ambers. “I won’t hold back, being my sister won’t offer you any mercy-”

He lunges, going for her throat.

She stops him again, but he’s fast, one more attempt and she knows she won’t be able to fight him off.

“Let him go,” Elijah advises. “Please-”

Her brother’s tender voice is what gets to her. She knows how kind he is, how noble. She can’t say no to Elijah.

Freya releases Klaus and he quickly vanishes from their sight.

(The house seems oddly colder without him).

-

His sister is well matched, he thinks as he travels back home.

A strong witch - much more powerful than the last time he had seen her. Klaus knows that, if they were to ever spar again, one of them might have to die before the battle would end.

Mikael was the only member of the family they had all ever gotten together to kill - he never thought that it would come to this again. Being pitted against each other thanks to their differences.

The very nature of his birth is something his siblings should hate him for. But instead, Elijah just tries to get closer to him, at any cost.

Klaus’ desire for power is much greater than his love for his family.

It makes him wonder about their offer - if he’ll ever be able to trust his own blood.

-

(She counts the stars as she falls asleep -

Hayley slips in to her bed, surrounded by the hybrids, all scattered on her floor. Two stand guard outside her room, almost as if they’re protecting her.

She only notices that they are distracted when a certain someone enters the area.

“Klaus,” she realizes, as he stands by her doorway, looking all dimmed and quiet. “You’re back,” Hayley notices, stepping out of bed and making her way towards him.

He smiles for the first time today - suddenly forgetting all about the stressful journey he’s just had. He sees nothing but the girl standing before him. “That I am, love,” he muses. “Come with me,” Klaus offers her his hand.

She hesitates. “Where?” Hayley asks.

“To my chamber,” he shrugs. “You’ll be staying with me tonight.”

She wants to ask him where he’s been, what he’s been doing, if he’s ever going to leave her again - all these questions loom inside her mind. She’s never been with a man like him before, so full of secrets.

But, she sees the tired look in his eyes and decides that she can’t fight him anymore.

She’s exhausted too.

“Okay,” Hayley finally says, slipping her hand into his).

-

[datenightfright]

Infamous

This story is dedicated to Oiwa. Thank you for allowing me to share your story, may you one day find peace.

Previous/Next

Pairing: Kayako Saeki x WOC Reader

Warnings!!!: None for this chapter. 

Thank you to @mlmdarkfiction and @doodleferp as always for you encouragement and your willingness to let me ramble. I appreciate you guys so much. 

The detectives in front of you looked as nervous as you felt. You exuded what you hoped was a calm, if very bewildered demeanor. You bounced your fussy daughter in your arms, wondering why the hell they could be there. 

That was a lie, you weren’t wondering, you had a very good idea as to why they were there. Yesterday, you finished moving into the Infamous Saeki house. Your husband, in an uncharacteristic show of violence, tried to choke you to death. You didn’t know if it was because of the curse, of the house itself, or if it had just been him finally snapping. You wanted to blame it on the house, you really did, but from everything you read, the curse took it’s time manifesting. Something deep within you told you that had all been Haru, no matter how much you didn’t want to admit it. 

Before he could manage to kill you, Kayako had come to your rescue. She had done...something with Haru. You weren’t sure, you didn’t want to think about what horrors he had faced. Besides, you’d been too focused on your daughter. You wanted Kayako to spare your daughter, but apparently she’d spared both of you...for now. 

You had passed out from fear, thinking Kayako was going to kill you next, but that morning you’d woken in your western styled bed, comfortably tucked into the blankets, as though nothing had happened. Your daughter had been sleeping peacefully in her crib, which was why, for a long, long moment, you thought everything had been a dream. 

You gathered Sakura in your arms, the little child not stirring from her own peaceful slumber. “Haru?” You whisper, terrified of the reaction. Your throat was killing you. Maybe you were getting sick and what you dreamt had nothing more to do with a cursed house than a really high fever. “Haru?” You called, a little louder this time, emboldened by thoughts of sickness rather than haunting. 

You made your way down the stairs. The smell of cooked rice and miso soup hits you. He was in the kitchen, cooking breakfast. When you first started dating Haru, he cooked for you all the time. You smiled at the memory and rushed the rest of the way downstairs, wanting to give him a kiss good morning. You stopped in your tracks when you saw who it really was. 

Kayako was standing to the right side of the head of the table, Toshio was sitting in the left chair. Both were looking at you expectantly. At the head of the table you could just make out a traditional Japanese breakfast. Rise, Miso soup, and a side of vegetables and tofu. You gulped, even though it pained you to do so. So this was how you were going to die, Kayako was going to poison you. Was that how ghosts killed people though? Poison? The thought was brief. Kayako gave off her signature rattle and pointed to the chair. You thought it was best not to upset her, so you shuffled your way over and sat down. 

You somehow managed to eat everything. Mostly out of fear. So far, no ill effects had befallen you. 

After breakfast, you fed Sakura from her bottle, not trusting Kayako to have not poisoned your food. After breakfast was done, Kayako surprised you by doing the dishes. You sat on the couch, wondering what you were going to do. Your husband was dead, now you had no source of steady income. Not to mention, you didn’t exactly know how to explain his death to his parents. “Hey, yeah, you know that haunted house we moved into, well for once it’s actually haunted and the long dead ghost of Kayako killed him while he was choking me out.” That would land you in the looney bin for sure. Or jail, you were sure no one would believe your story.

You spent most of your day fretting over this problem. Your mother-in-law, who already hates you for being the non-white American that took her husband away, would pin his murder on you in a heartbeat. She would take your daughter. 

While you were spiraling closer and closer to pits of despair, the police had been on the prowl, and now, two detectives were in your house, apparently with some ‘news’. They know, you think, trying to maintain your composure, somehow they already know Haru is dead and they’re going to pin it on me. You watch as a team begins to search your house for evidence. What bones would they find in the attic, you wonder? 

“Mrs. Kubo,” The first detective says, he had introduced himself earlier as Tanaka, his partner, who held a notebook, was Fujiwara. “How long has your husband been missing?” You gulp, think of something fast, “Since last afternoon,” You reply, wondering what game they’re trying to play. “He said he was going to drink with some old friends. I thought maybe he stayed out too late and stayed over at their house, or a hotel, I...I don’t know how late bars are open until in Japan.” It was a half truth obviously. You really didn’t know how late bars are open in Japan. 

The detectives share a look, then Tanaka looks at you, looking graver than when he first walked in. “Have you been outside at all today?” You shake your head, trying to be as honest as possible. “I haven’t been feeling well.” You tell them, the hoarseness in your voice attested to that. The detective managed to look graver still. “Mrs. Kubo, I don’t know how to tell you this but,” In the pause you steel yourself for the news, you’re under arrest for the disappearance of your husband, we’re taking your baby, you’ll never see her again, in fact, you’ll never see daylight again. “Your husband was murdered yesterday,”

This time, the detectives got your honest reaction, shock. “What? How?” 

“He was beaten to death by someone with tremendous strength.” Tanaka informs you. “Did he have any enemies? Anyone who seemed to hate him?”

“Or possibly an over zealous fan?” Fujiwara chimed in. You shake your head, “I can’t think of anyone,” You say, “He never really talked to me about his work, or his fans.” The detectives looked at each other once more. “Do you mind if we have a look around the property?” Tanaka asked, “Not at all,” You say, shrugging. You couldn’t tell them no, that would look suspicious on your part. Besides, the rest of their team was already looking, rifling through papers and drawers. There’s nothing there, you think, you hope, please let nothing be there.

You watch as the detectives leave you on the couch to begin the investigation. Following them with your eyes you wonder what the hell you’re going to do. What if they find evidence you did it? What if they pin it on you anyway. What the hell were you supposed to do now? You sigh and slump into the couch. There was nothing you could do, really, except aid them as much as you can in their search for the truth. You really had nothing to hide, you weren’t the one that killed him, Kayako was. 

A mass of black moves out of the corner of your eye. You see Kayako watching everyone in the reflection of a window. She’s the one that did it! You want to scream, she’s the one that killed my husband! Take her, arrest her. You sigh again. Yes, arrest a ghost no one believed exists. What the fuck were you gonna do? 

The police leave no stone unturned. They’re stiff, jittery. An air of dread hangs around the house,even more so than usual. Everyone sends meaningful looks at one another, jumping at the slightest of sounds. If you didn’t know this house was really haunted, you’d laugh at them and their silly superstitions. Instead, you remain on the couch, unsure of what to do, not wanting to get in anyone’s way. You keep Sakura entertained with funny faces and toys. Whenever someone came into the living room, they would smile at her, and she would giggle. Other than that, you talked to no one. 

The detectives eventually make their way back to you, looking as perplexed as you felt. You stand to greet them. “Everything looks to be in order.” Tanaka tells you. “No suspicious activity around the house.” You give him a little bow. “Do you really think it was over zealous fans?” You ask, more curious if their theory involves you more than actual curiosity. Tanaka heaves a great sigh. “It’s certainly a possibility,” He says, “It could’ve been many things, Mrs. Kubo. Many people. He had a great deal of admirers, and enemies.”

“Enemies?” You gasp, brow furrowing. “What do you mean by that?” Tanaka looks at you intently. “Aren’t you aware of his rivalry with Professor Yuki Nakamura?” You bit your lip, ashamed. “No, sir. Like I said, my husband didn’t really talk about his work.” 

“I find that hard to believe,” Tanaka said. “You traveled with him, and he always dedicated his books to you.” You nod, “Yes, I did,” you admit, “But I only ever read his material to edit it. Other than that, we never talked about work. It was his rule, you see. He didn’t want his work life bleeding too much into his personal life. I’m sorry Detective Tanaka, I have no idea this Professor Yuki Nakamura is.” He nods, seemingly satisfied with your answer.

He reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out a business card. “This is my contact number,” He tells you. You take it with a shaky hand. “If you can think of anything, or anyone. Please, call me.”

“Yes sir,” You say, “Immediately.” They bow, you bow, and everyone begins filing out of your home. You thank every one of them for helping with the investigation. Finally, when the door is close, and you’re all alone, you let out a great sigh. Things seemed to be ok...for now. 

You turn, wanting little more than to take a nap. But the shock of Kayako standing right in front of you startles you so badly you nearly drop your daughter. You two stare at each other. You, not really knowing what to do, or to say, her just...staring, you guessed. It occurs to you moments later as to what she’s probably expecting. “Th-thank you,” You tell her, inching around her. “Thank you for helping me,” The moment you’re clear, you dash for the stairs, Kayako watching you the entire time. 

*

“She did it,” Fujiwara exclaims. He looks sheepish at the sight of Tanaka’s glare. “Well, she had someone else do it,” he amends. “There’s no way a small thing like that could cause so much bodily damage. So she hired someone to do it. A jealous lover maybe.” Tanaka huffs. “What makes you so sure?” 

“She didn’t cry.” Fujiwara continued, “She just sat there, playing with her baby.” 

“She was in shock,” Tanaka tells him, his tone harsh. “Not every woman falls to their knees and weeps at the news of their husbands’ deaths.”

“But you have to admit, something is strange.”

“Is there?”

“Isn’t there?” They sat in silence for a while. “Did you see her neck?” Fujiwara said. “I did.”

“It looked like someone tried to strangle her.” Tanaka nodded. “Do you think Haru Kubo was abusing her?” 

“Could be,” Tanaka turned onto the main road and sped towards the station. “That doesn’t mean she did it. Or hired someone to do it. They could have violent sex” Fujiwara’s face scrunches up. He hadn’t been on the force long enough to see anything like that yet, Tanaka had to forgive him for his squeamishness. 

“But it is motive.” Fujiwara continues. “Do you think maybe Yuki was in on it? They somehow got in contact with each other?” Tanaka shrugs. Fujiwara had a point, a good one at that. It was possible that Yuko Nakamura and Mrs. Kubo could conspire together. But Yuki was away on vacation in upper Hokkaido, and there was no evidence the two women had met besides. However, Tanaka knew better. “What if it’s the house?” He suggests feeling Fujiwara out. 

The younger man scoffs. “You can’t believe in that old superstition,” He says. “It’s just a house.” Tanaka nods, once more, “Yeah,” He mutters, “Just a house.” Just a house, his left ass cheek. Tanaka knew better. That house had killed off three of his best friends, countless of dumb kids and teenagers, and everyone else who had owned it. There was nothing that house didn’t swallow up in it’s rage, and now a helpless baby and her mother lived in it. Tanaka gritted his teeth. How long did they have before they too were lost to Kayako’s never ending darkness? How long did he have to save them?

[op-peccatori]

Wicked Eyes & Wicked Hearts | Chrollo Lucilfer (nsfw)

Fandom: Hunter x Hunter 

Pairing: Chrollo Lucilfer/Fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit/18+

Word Count: 8073

Summary: Over the course of your life, you’ve picked up several bad habits you’d be better off without. However, there is one in particular that you just can’t seem to quit–one with wicked eyes and lethal charm. 

a/n: the culmination of months’ worth of absolute, raw THIRST for this sexy asshole. I hate him!!!! I had to get this out of my system so I can go back to writing for my MLQC boys. 

the title is a quest from one of my all-time favourite games-DA: Inquisition. I do not own it, nor do I own Chrollo/Hunter x Hunter.

(warnings/tags under the cut)

Warnings/Tags: explicit sexual content, explicit language, pwp, oral sex (semi-public), vaginal sex, OOC+possessive Chrollo because we’re pretending he has any capacity for love outside the spider, some soft!yandere if you squint, unhealthy relationship, gotta edit this once I’ve apologised to a picture of Kurapika

Dark red swirls in the glass with slow twists of your wrist, your chin resting in the palm of your hand as you sit at the bar. 

The marble-top your elbow rests on is just as ornate as everything else in the ballroom, and as pretty as it all is to look at–you’re bored out of your mind. Clad in soft satin, skin exfoliated and highlighted to perfection, your makeup subtle but precise; this is not how you’d pictured your night going. 

A glance over your shoulder confirms your best friend’s continued safety, although you hadn’t actually come here to guard him. He had enticed you with promises of inexhaustible alcohol, food, and plenty of eye-candy. Your hopes of finding a secret corner with a handsome stranger are dwindling, and there is very little fun to be had alone when your partner in crime has the host of the party wrapped around him. 

A Prince tenth in line to the throne–but royalty nonetheless, a man Stefan seems inexplicably smitten with. You’re currently on royal property, and the experience isn’t as exciting as it should be. This is not somewhere you want to get wasted, which helps you keep one of the promises you’ve made to yourself: that you’ll stop getting inebriated to the point of losing common sense. 

It’s the start of a new year, after all. Or it will be, in about two hours. 

Just as you take another sip, there’s a brush of a hand over your shoulder–your pulse quickens as your breath stutters, and you curse yourself for the hope that blooms in your chest even as you turn around. Soft blue eyes lock with yours, and the butterflies in your stomach die a quick death. 

“Hi, I couldn’t help but notice you’ve been on your own for a while...” You blink up at the blond man, who takes it as an indication to continue. “Would it be safe to assume you aren’t waiting for anybody and ask if I could sit here?” he adds, pointing at the empty seat next to you. 

Are you waiting for someone?

‘No.’

You smile up at him, gesturing for him to take a seat. “I’m ___.” 

“I’m John.” He waves down the bartender. “I’ll have what the lady’s having.” He waits for the drink to be placed in front of him before turning back to you, swivelling in his chair to face you. “So, ___–this might be a little straightforward, but how is it that a lady as beautiful as you are all alone?”

His words would have been annoying, had they not been said with complete sincerity and a touch of bafflement. He appears to be in his early thirties, garbed in an immaculate white suit, his hair coiffed neatly.

“I did come here with a friend, actually. But he’s a little,” you punctuate your next words with a nod at the couple grinding on the dance floor, completely offbeat to the pop song playing in the background. “Pre-occupied. Can’t hold it against him, though.” 

“They do look rather smitten with each other,” he agrees, his eyes crinkling with amusement. 

“What about you? No hot date for NYE?” The man looks like he could be on the cover of a fashion magazine, and you can already see a few pairs of envious eyes trained on the two you. 

It’s then that he wiggles his hand, a silver band glinting from around his finger. “My date’s out of the country, on business. I work with the Prince, so I figured I might as well skip the moping tonight.” 

Something unwinds in your chest, even though you should be at least a little disappointed. “Crying yourself to sleep wouldn’t be a great start to the year, huh?“ 

“Hey, I don’t do that every day,” he says, mock outrage colouring his tone. “And no, it wouldn’t be–according to my wife.” 

“Well, then, if it’s decent company you’re looking for, I’ll try my best,” you say seriously, your lips curling up when he laughs. “We’ll need to make sure you’re far from tearful when you talk to her.”

“I’d be grateful if you could manage that. Wouldn’t be easy, this is the first time we’re not together in about five years,” he sighs, morose, before at straightening back up. “You didn’t fully answer my question, though.”

“Hm?” 

“You can’t tell me you haven’t seen the boys hovering, hoping for a glance. Have none of them managed to catch your eye?” 

You’re a bit taken aback by the question, as John looks genuinely invested in your answer.

“Um, no. Not really.“ Your heart squeezes pathetically within its cage and you hope it doesn’t show on your face.

“What about the redhead by the window? I’ve met him a few times, he seems like a decent fellow.” You both look over your shoulders simultaneously, studying the man in question. He notices right away, perking up, and you both turn back to the bar.

You squint at him suspiciously. “John, are you trying to play wingman?”

“I’m just a sucker for romance. And you looked lonely,” he shrugs, unfazed by your offended look. “Unless you’re just not interested in that.” 

You pause to take another sip, weighing your words in your head. You wonder what you should say, and if there is even anything to say. John, however, seems to have found something in your expression, nodding swiftly. 

“Ah. I see.” 

“You do?” 

“Yep,” he affirms, studying your face as if he’s discovered a crucial clue. “There is someone.” 

You avert your eyes uncomfortably, suppressing the urge to slump over. “No, there isn’t...not exactly.” 

“Whoever he is, he’s an idiot for not being here with you tonight.” 

“I couldn’t exactly ask him,” you laugh, genuinely amused by the thought. “We’re not like that.” 

John shakes his head, reaching out to pat the back of your hand. “You don’t have to talk about it if it troubles you.” 

“I don’t think there is anything to talk about,” you say nonchalantly, but John doesn’t seem to buy it. He smiles gently, waving down the bartender for refills.

“You know, ___, you have very expressive eyes.” 

You can’t quite bring yourself to say anything to that. 

“And if he can’t see what I, a near stranger, can see in your eyes–then my point stands. He’s an idiot.” 

With that, you seem to have made a new friend. It’s the first time you’ve even hinted at your secret heartache to someone besides Stefan. It’s ridiculous, really, but it’s your reality. One that you can’t seem to escape no matter how hard you try. 

When John asks if you want to dance, you agree, all too eager to escape the jumbled mess of your thoughts. He’s a good partner, if a bit clumsy. His wife is the one who usually leads, he tells you. You’re amused by how often he seems to bring up his wife, but it’s quite endearing. His love for her oozes from his tone, his eyes, his words and you can only wonder if you will ever get to experience this. 

John twirls you around the marbled floor with a lot of enthusiasm, drawing high-pitched giggles from you and exasperated looks from those around you. And so you’re confused when, just as he begins to send you spinning once more, his eyes move to a point over your head, perplexity bleeding into his expression. You only get a glimpse of it before you’re spinning–only for John’s grip on your hand to slip away as you’re spin right into another figure. 

The subtle tones of leather and coffee hit your senses and your heart stumbles at the familiar combination. Your eyes rove over the sleek black suit, the white shirt stretching over lean muscles, the hands resting on your waist, holding you in place. Your eyes fly up before you finish processing all of this, and this time, when clever grey eyes meet yours, your heart flutters hopelessly. 

“Chrollo.” 

“___,” he greets you with a smile that borders on flirtatious, unfairly thick lashes lowering slightly as he takes in your attire. The one habit you haven’t been able to quit, pulling you closer, brushing his lips over the shell of your ear. “You look beautiful.” 

Your face feels warm, yet you try for indifference despite it. You glance back at John, who’s still staring at you with a raised brow, looking a little too interested. “Isn’t this place a little too...low-scale for you?” you say pointedly, looking around to see if any of his friends are here with him. There’s nothing for him to take here, no treasure to steal, as far as you know. Unless...

Alarmed, your eyes fly back to him. He couldn’t be here to kill somebody. 

He looks amused by your words, but when you try to step away his grip only tightens, sending electrifying flutters down your spine. “There’s no need to look so worried. Now,” he begins, looking over your head at John. “Won’t you introduce me to your...friend?” 

It’s the last thing you want to do, but John doesn’t seem to realize that as he steps up to you both with a wide smile. “I’m John.” 

“Chrollo,” he says with a charming grin that only serves to tighten the ball of anxiety and delight in your stomach. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” John says, shaking his hand joyously, before looking back at you. “I guess he’s not an idiot after all, huh?” 

You wish the ground would open up and swallow you, avoiding Chrollo’s eyes when they try to meet yours.

‘John, for the love of all that is holy-please shut up,’ you think hard, staring him at him desperately, hoping he’ll get it. He does seem to understand something, but it’s not what you meant. 

“Well then, I’ll leave ___ in your capable hands, Chrollo,” he chuckles, waggling his brows at you. “Have fun, kiddos.” With that, he leaves you standing in the middle of the crowd with the man you’ve been hoping and dreading to see for months. 

‘Kiddos.’ In any other situation, you would’ve found it hilarious. Said right to his face, you can only hope he’s in a forgiving mood. 

As the music transitions into something gentler, Chrollo pulls you close again. The lights dim as you both sway to the music, and your heart finally settles down. You’re nearly hidden away in the middle of the floor, surrounded by countless dancing partners and friends, but you barely register their presence.

“Your date gave you up faster than I thought he would,” he remarks, his hand shifting on your waist, the other clasping your trembling hand firmly.

“He’s married,” you say flatly. He simply cocks a brow at you, and you nearly marvel at how easy it is to fall back into this. 

“I know.” 

“He’s a friend!” 

“Must be, if you’ve already discussed me with him.” His tone is sly, and your embarrassment makes a swift comeback. 

“Who says I was talking about you?” you say retort, twirling into a spin, only for your voice to die in your throat as it ends with his face close, the tip of your nose brushing his. 

His eyes, previously clear and twinkling, are somehow brighter with something dangerous lurking in their depths.

“He was right, you know,” Chrollo murmurs, his breath mingling with yours. “Your eyes really do give you away.” 

Your heart pounds as you’re spun around, your back pressed into his front, still swaying almost unconsciously. Your body moves with every subtle shift of his, his fingers undulating along your sides almost covetously. Once more, you can only marvel at your overactive imagination as it offers up flashes of your previous encounters involving the infamous spider, and the things you could do if you could just find a quiet place.

“You never said what brought you here,” you say, swallowing heavily when you feel his warm breath on the nape of your neck. 

“Isn’t it obvious?” He turns you back around, and there’s a subtle smile curling along his mouth. “Unless you do think I’m an idiot.” 

Flustered, you look away, but he tugs at your waist until there’s less than an inch between you.

“I have to wonder, though,” he muses, his hand sliding down to rest on the swell of your ass while the other slithers up your back. Your hands brace against his chest lightly. “If you weren’t actually expecting me–who, then, did you doll up for?” 

At this, you sniff delicately, finding your balance and refraining from rolling your eyes. “Do I need to dress up for someone? It’s NYE.” Granted, you had been hoping he would show up, but there is no way in hell you would ever admit that. 

“And here I thought this was all for me,” he sighs, and his tone would have actually led you to believe he was hurt–if not for the way he squeezes your plump rear, and the fact that you do, to a certain extent, know him. 

And so you hesitate, going over words you could and shouldn’t say. 

“That was a little presumptuous, wouldn’t you say?” you tease lightly, glancing up at him before averting your eyes quickly. 

“No, I wouldn’t,” he counters, his smile sharp and knavish. His lips brush your cheek, his next words breathed into your skin. “After all, you’re well aware of how much I love you in satin.” 

Yes, you do.

Your mind, the traitorous thing that it is, stumbles over the ‘I love you’ despite the accompanying words. Even so, you duck your head, aware of how easily he can still read you. 

“I just liked the dress,” you grumble, annoyed by his breathy laugh at your pout. 

“I like it too. Then-“ He’s closer now, his mouth at your ear, your breasts pressing into his chest. “I guess you really liked the gift I sent you too?” 

For a second, you’re unable to comprehend his words. Your mind tries to work through the events of the evening–when, when, when? 

Chrollo, who has by now pulled back to be entertained by your reaction, spots the panic in your eyes at once. “Ah, don’t worry, you didn’t accidentally flash anyone.”

His words are reassuring, and yet there’s a hidden implication in them. “Did you...was it here?” you ask slowly. 

At your question, his gentle smile shifts into something more cunning. “No.” 

You stare at him in mortification. 

“I didn’t actually mean to peek,” he clarifies, making you feel a bit better–and then he continues. “You should’ve drawn the curtains.” You live on the fifteenth floor. “And you looked so sad as you were looking at my gift, I just-“ 

Unable to bring yourself to continue listening, you step away hastily, your fists clenched at his teasing tone. Without waiting for another word, you turn on your heel and exit through the first door you come across. 

The fact of the matter is–you had been sad. You had sat there with that box in your hands for over an hour. Because you missed him. You ached for him, after months of radio silence. You had thought that was it, that it was done because he’d never gone so long without making even a brief appearance to turn your life upside down. 

Because, despite everything–him being who he is, never saying goodbye, just leaving behind cold sheets and a fading scent–he’s carved himself a place in your heart so deeply you’re unsure if you will ever be able to evict him. You’ve certainly tried. 

You’ve stalked your way out of the room to what looks like the poolside; this side of the building is just as grand as the ballroom, with its carefully carved pillars and the shallow pools of water you catch glimpses of through archways, that seem to cover the entirety of one side of the room. 

You don’t feel his presence behind you but you duck behind a wall anyway, coming to face the still water. Your face is still uncomfortably warm, your eyes burning–with tears, with anger, and with the aching vulnerability of being seen through so easily yet again. You’ve experienced his sharp perceptiveness first-hand, but this is the firm time he’s referred to your feelings for him so openly, if indirectly. 

You sense him nearby, shifting to look around the safety of the wall when you feel his hand catching yours from behind you; his arms slide around your waist before you can whirl around, pulling you back into his chest. It leaves you facing the gilded walls instead, the slight chill in the air cut off by the warmth emanating from him. 

It's when you feel his lips on your neck that the fight leaves you, the brief contact frustratingly soothing. "Did I go too far?" 

"Yes."

You feel his mouth curve up, pressed as it is into your skin. "Which part?"

The words bubble at the back of your throat, but you swallow them stubbornly. His thumb rubs small circles over the skin under your breast, sparking every nerve to attention, if he moves his hand just a little–

“It couldn’t have been me watching you dress,” he says casually, sliding his mouth further up and sideways until he’s kissing the tender skin underneath your ear. “That’s something you enjoy, if I recall correctly...” 

Your lips part slightly as he nips at your skin playfully. 

“Chrollo, someone might see us,” you whisper, knowing full well he doesn’t care–and neither do you, not really. He just laughs at your attempt at stilling his wandering hands and mouth.

“No one’s going to be around to see us,” he assures you, teeth grazing the delicate shell of your ear. 

“Ah, but-“ 

“Don’t try to change the subject, ___.” His words are accompanied by a chiding tug at your earlobe. His hand splays at your hip, his mouth returning to peppering soft kisses along the slender slope of your neck.

Your hand settles on top of his, fingers lacing together as your eyes blink shut. His nose burrows briefly into the junction between your neck and shoulder, inhaling deeply. 

“I’ve missed you too, you know,” he purrs, the words coiling around your heart, squeezing it tight. “But it appears I’ve neglected you.” 

“Wh-what?” 

“No? Isn’t that why you tried to fuck that hunter after your last job?” 

Once more, the words are said so nonchalantly that you almost don’t realise what he’s said until you try to turn around and he pins you against the wall instead, using his body to keep you in place as he goes back to mouthing at your skin. 

“How do you-“ know? How the fuck does he know? Your mind spins, your instincts tingling despite his casual tone. 

“It didn’t quite work out, though, did it?” he asks almost sympathetically. “He said you didn’t actually seem that into it. I’m curious–what exactly were you trying to accomplish?” 

“Chrollo,” you ask quietly, trying to keep your voice steady despite your heart thumping its panic throughout your body. “What did you do?” 

“Don’t sound so suspicious, sweetheart.” His hips press into the curve of your ass, and a desperate sort of thrill thrums through you when you feel his bulge against you. “We just had a little chat.” 

He doesn’t say more, his silence expectant now. He’s looking for an answer, you realise, heart sinking at the thought of even hinting at the emotional turmoil you went through when you’d thought he was done with you–after you had told him to never seek you out again, and he had left without protest.

“I thought we were done,” you say in a rush. “That’s why.” 

“Hm.” 

He was gone for months without a word. He’s never said anything to imply that he expects something from you, coming and going as he pleases. This time, you refused to wait for him. You wanted to move on. 

“I didn’t think you’d care,” you say carefully. This could go a number of ways, and you nearly wince imagining the bruising your heart could take from his reply. “Especially after...what I said.” 

His chin falls to rest on your shoulder.

“I understand,” he says. He sounds like it too.

“You...do?“ 

“Of course. I know I’ve been remiss in informing you of certain things. I won’t lie to you–when I found out your eyes have been straying elsewhere, it did hurt.”  His words throw you for a loop, and this is not what you’d thought he’d say. 

“I’m...sorry?” you say hesitantly, turning your head so you could see his expression, to see if he was messing around again. You don’t expect the quiet intensity in his eyes, belying his nonchalant tone entirely. 

“Me too,” he smiles, and it’s not his pretty one. He kisses your cheek softly, keeping his lips pressing into your skin. “But this is one thing you should know about me–I don’t share.” 

You know you’re not at fault, but you feel a kernel of guilt in sprout to life, one you're determined to ignore. 

“I didn’t realise I was yours to share," you say coolly. Or not share, in this case. You say it with the aim of ruffling that cool composure, to find some of the same in yourself. 

He kisses the corner of your mouth tenderly. 

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. By the time we’re done,” his whispers against your lips, smiling slightly as your eyelashes brush the tops of your cheek. "You'll know exactly who you belong to." His mouth is on yours before you can even open your eyes, working your lips open, stealing your words and your breath in one go. You can't help the soft noise in your throat when his hand comes up to wrap around your neck, squeezing lightly as you nearly melt back into him. 

Every thought of resistance leaves you the moment he licks into your mouth. You suck at his tongue languidly, feeling drunk off the taste of him, your senses filled with his scent. 

It's when his hand sneaks beneath the hem of your dress, caressing the warm flesh of your inner thigh, that raw desire sparks like liquid fire through your veins–it's helped along by his other hand sliding down your chest from the base of your throat to cup the bare flesh of your breast. He breaks the kiss to raise a brow at you, his smooth expression flickering at the sight of the nigh pained look that comes over your face when he tugs roughly at a taut nipple. 

"So you did skip it. Pity, I would've liked to see the full set," Chrollo mumbles almost to himself. "You'll have to show me later." His tongue sweeps into your mouth swiftly, his mouth swallowing your soft moan when you feel him cup your mound. You're grinding into his palm before you even realize it, your body aching to feel him within you after the long absence. A low whine escapes you when he pulls away to turn you around, pushing you back into the wall and sliding the pad of his finger along your clothed entrance. 

Your hands splay across his tensing abdomen, his body belying his tranquil expression as your lips find his pulse point, licking tight swirls over it. You widen your stance, silently begging him to move his fingers, but he seems content to brush them over the damp lace indolently. 

Deciding to take the matter into your hands, you reach for the waistband of his pants, ready to sink to your knees and suck until he gives you what you want. However, your plan is halted before you can even implement it, with Chrollo once again pinning you in place with his body, his hands coming to rest on the wall on either side of your head; his leg slides between your knees, his firm thigh pressing into your dripping heat, applying the delicious sort of pressure you've been dreaming of for weeks. You grind down on it, and he lets you–only for a moment, before a hand to your hip puts a stop to it. 

In the silence, the sound of your heavy breathing is loud. You're dizzy with lust and confusion until you see the insidious smirk tugging at his mouth. Your uncomfortable squirming is also cut off, and you think you might just explode. 

"Chrollo," you plead, desperate to move. You can only imagine how pitiful you look, with the beseeching look in your tearful eyes, and your hands tug at the lapel of his jacket. "Please, please, d-don't..."

"Don't?" he prompts when you trail off, his thigh rubbing into you, birthing relief that withers when he stops right away. You whimper softly, leaning into his touch when his hand cups your cheek. 

"D-don't tease me." Your helpless desire is apparent in your tone, and you spot the satisfied glint in his eyes when he leans in to steal another kiss. 

"Oh, don't make such a cute face, sweetheart," he half-groans, pressing his forehead to yours. "It makes me want to ruin you." He emphasizes his words with a slow slide of his thigh, before stepping away. Every protest dies in your throat when he sinks to his knees before you, calloused palms spreading your legs further as he nearly buries his face in the apex of your thighs. You strain to catch a glimpse of him, your breath robbed from you when you hear him inhale strongly as if enjoying a favourite perfume. He mouths at you through the barrier of your underwear, the heat of his mouth discernible even through it. 

"Fuck, Chrollo," you moan, bucking your hips into his mouth, yelping when he nips at you in reprimand. 

His deft fingers reach behind you, unclasping the panties and sliding them off. You're not at all surprised when he stuffs them into his back pocket, but you’re stunned when he spreads your cunt and drags his tongue along your swollen lips. Your knees start to tremble with every lick, and you're unsure as to how you remain standing when he lifts one of your legs to curl it over his shoulder, his tongue delving deeper through your dripping walls. This time, he doesn't stop you from grinding down; his hands, tight bands on your hips, digging into your skin as they help you undulate over his tongue. 

You try to muffle your moans as best you can, desire and fear coiling together low in your belly–you've known him long enough to be somewhat familiar with his style, and you know how much he enjoys robbing you of that absolute bliss until he's ready to give it to you. And so you roll your hips frantically, angling them just right, hoping you can grab your orgasm before he's done savouring the taste of you. The thought sends a hot jolt through you, drawing your attention to the way he's lapping at your sex with more fervour than you'd thought him capable of. 

Perhaps Chrollo really had missed you.

His tongue drags over your clit and you're so, so close and he knows–he knows, and so he pulls away, leaving you twitching but not daring to tug at his hair insistently, the way you want to. Your dismayed expression seems to provide some measure of amusement–but you’re not fooled even in your disoriented state, noting his blown-out pupils as he licks his lips. There’s a ghost of a smile across them when he rises to his feet to pull you into a kiss, the taste of you on his tongue making your head spin.

"You're a cruel bastard," you breathe. He blinks in slight confusion. Months without him, and he won't even let you come.

"Sorry, what was that?" he asks, tilting his head as if trying to hear better. "You don't want me to fuck you?"

"I want! I want-you."

"Me?" he asks, still feigning obliviousness. “I’m right here.” 

You tug at his tie pitifully. 

"Your hands," you moan softly, nuzzling his jaw cajolingly. "Your mouth. Your cock." He looks thoughtful for a moment, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. You wait with bated breath, knowing how much he likes to hear you plead. 

"But sweetheart–do you deserve my cock?"

The words have the same impact as being doused bucket of chilled water. No, you won't get to come right now. 

"I..." His eyes warn you to think carefully. "...No?"

"No? Why is that?"

Your face burns as you look away, unable to believe you have to face these consequences even though you’ve done nothing wrong. Technically, you're a free agent. Chrollo never said a word to imply otherwise, and so you decided to test the waters, just once. To try to escape the web that was Chrollo Lucilfer, to see if you could, because it's not as if he would ever find out. 

You were wrong, and it's come back to bite you in the ass. 

"Because I...tried to...with someone." 

There's absolute silence after you finish your sentence, and you have to wonder if he'll walk away after obtaining that admission. 

"Yes," he begins, a knuckle under your chin tilting your head up. You're struck dumb by the lethal look in his eye as he stares at you. "You were going to let him fuck you." 

"...Yes."

"But you didn't." It's not a question–not the one you know he's about to ask. 

"No, I didn't," you admit, your eyes squeezed shut as something in your chest quivers at the prospect of what's coming.

"Why?"

You don't know what to say. Or rather, you don't know how to tell him why you had run out of that hotel room that night, flashes of him filling your head until you couldn't even look at the other man without cringing. 

"Don't make me repeat myself," he warns, his tone affecting a measure of sternness that contrasts greatly with his previous geniality. 

"I couldn't-" Your eyes still closed in resignation. "Because he wasn't you."

Because despite every effort you’ve put into trying to escape him, he always finds you. And you fall into his arms like the complete fool you that you are, unable to resist him. You crave him when he’s not around. 

Worse still, it’s not just the sex. It hasn’t been for a long time. Not since you first saw him reading by the window, lost in his book, his ridiculous coat gone and his hair falling in messy waves around his face. It had hit you with the force of an enhancer’s punch, filling your heart up and spilling over, and you haven’t been the same ever since. 

“Was that so hard?” he nearly croons, kissing your forehead as if he hadn’t just cornered you into a difficult position. “Look at me, ___.” A peek at his face has your breath catching in your throat at how pleased he looks. It’s in how his smile actually reaches his eyes, for once. The dark delight glittering in them, combined with his straining bulge pressing into your hip threatens to derail your thought process all over again. “You couldn’t fuck him, because he wasn’t me. You understand, don’t you?”

In this, you know you understand more than he probably does. “Yes.”

“Good girl. Let’s go.” 

‘Wait-what?’ 

“Where?” you ask in confusion, stumbling after him as he interlocks your fingers together and pulls you along. Your hotel room is always an option, but that idea is discarded when he tugs you through a hallway you don’t recognize. It doesn’t look like he’s leading you to the exit–you seem to be going deeper into the grand building. “Where are we going?” 

“As tempting as it is, I’d rather not fuck you where somebody would eventually find us,” Chrollo explains, smiling over his shoulder at your baffled expression, his hand squeezing yours. 

In other words, he wants to take his sweet time with you. Lovely thought, but it still doesn’t explain where you’re going. 

“And so...”

“And so I’ve made other arrangements for us. I think you’ll like it.” 

You almost hiss at him to lower his voice, which echoes off the marble floor in the empty hall. But there doesn’t seem to be anyone to hear him, which strikes you as odd–this is a royal figure’s birthday party. There should definitely be more security. 

That’s something Chrollo is clearly not worried about, and you decide you don’t want to know. 

He finally comes to a stop in front of a heavy door of white wood, carved with roses painted a shimmering gold. He pushes it open with no preamble, pulling you in behind him and shutting the door, the click of the lock loud in the large room. Your eyes have nearly adjusted to the dark of the room when he turns the lights on; the lights being crystal candelabras hanging on the walls, which are curved to form a circular room instead of the usual square. 

It’s stunning, from the white wooden dresser to the full-length ornate mirror framed with carved gold roses, but your eyes are drawn back to the main attraction: the king-sized bed with its pretty blue velvet headboard and its pretty blue velvet bedcovers that are thick enough to be called blankets. There are heavy drapes on either side of the bed, and several pillows lining the top of it. 

You’re immediately overcome by the urge to throw yourself on the mattress.

“Chrollo,” you begin, your mouth feeling like cotton. “How did you manage this?” 

He smiles indulgently, stepping behind you to wrap his arms around you, surveying the room with an almost critical eye. “It’s a bit brighter than I would prefer, but...”

But this is exactly the kind of room you would like. And so the fly walks back into the parlour. 

“It’s stunning,” you exclaim, nearly overwhelmed by the delicate beauty surrounding you. “But we’re not supposed to be here, are we?” 

“Depends on who you ask.” He shrugs, toying with the straps of your dress. “And if you ask me–I think I want to fuck you on that bed.” 

A shiver runs down your spine as he tugs the thin straps down, one at a time, pressing his lips to your shoulders. 

“There’s a lovely bath too, but we’ll explore that later,” he continues, pulling at your zipper slowly until it reveals the bare skin of your back, inch by inch. “Do you like it?“ 

“I love it,” you gasp, feeling the cool air on your heated skin as he pulls your dress down until it’s pooled at your feet. You stand, completely exposed to his gaze, embarrassed warmth blooming all over your body. And then his hand is at the small of your back, urging you towards the bed. 

“Ah, forgive me,” he slides his jacket off smoothly, draping it around your shoulders. “I’ll get the fire started. Why don’t you take a seat?”

You do as you’re bid with a pounding heart, watching him stride over to the–you guessed it–marble fireplace. Chrollo’s always been charming, but you’re not sure what to make of this. It’s romantic beyond belief, and something you had never expected from him in a million years. 

You sit on the side of the bed, sniffing discretely at his jacket, stifling a low gasp at his intoxicating scent. As he walks over to stand before you, between your spread thighs, you can’t help but smile as you tilt your head back to look at him and he kisses you deeply. Deft hands slide the jacket off your shoulders, throwing it over the back of an armchair, before reaching for your hair. 

He doesn’t rush; he’s slow, yet gentle as he tugs at the pins keeping your low bun in place, sliding them out carefully until there’s a small pile of them on the bedside table and your hair is spilling over your back. Skilful fingers rub at your scalp, chasing the slight ache away, and you’re nearly overwhelmed by the intimacy of the act. 

He crouches down, reaching for your feet, unbuckling the straps on your heels and sliding them off, taking a moment to rub the soles of your feet. You’re convinced you’re in a dream, or that you’ve died. This is not good for your heart.

“Did I mention you look beautiful?” he half-jokes, looking at you through half-lidded eyes as you reach for the cloth around his forehead, tugging it loose to reveal his tattoo. 

“I think so,” you say casually, but your trembling fingers give you away as you loosen his tie next. “But I won’t stop you if you want to tell me again.” 

He laughs as he stands, the sound coming out huskier than he probably intended as you reach up to unbutton his shirt, trying to keep from rushing; you struggle a little with the buttons on his wrists, but he’s patient as you finally slip it off his arms. You lean in when the pale expanse of his torso is unveiled, pressing your lips to every inch of skin you can reach–soft, open-mouthed kisses that have him stroking your hair in approval. 

You know you don’t imagine the slight hitch in his breath when you reach for the fly of his pants, unzipping him carefully and nuzzling at his straining length through his silk briefs. Your eager mouth traces his bulge until he tugs at your hair lightly, and then you reach for the waistband of his underwear. You don’t look away from his freed cock, your mouth watering at the slight glistening visible at its head. You wait impatiently as he folds his clothes and leaves them on the armchair, knowing his slow movements are in part due to how badly you want to taste him. 

Which is why you take immense pleasure in the way his light chuckle gets cut off when you take the tip of his cock into your mouth, sucking softly, tasting him with your eager tongue. Your moan vibrates around him. It’s not because he tastes good–it’s because it’s so purely him. It sends thrilling flutters through you, and you’re glad you’ve left the shame behind. 

You’re well aware of what it does to Chrollo when he sees the pure bliss on your face as you suck his cock. 

Sure enough, his hand tangles in your hair, flexing and tugging to keep his calm. You appreciate that about him; Chrollo rarely loses his composure. But there are moments, where he just unravels and moans and squirms and you keep those close to your heart, cherishing them deeply. You want to collect more of those tonight. 

Chrollo stops you just as you feel him twitch in your mouth, feeling the telltale tensing of the muscles in his thighs where you caress them lovingly. His grip on your hair tightens until you've let him slip out of your mouth, shifting to lay on your back as he climbs over you, between your legs, ebony strands framing his face haphazardly. You part your legs further in a silent, pleading invitation and his lips twitch as he ducks his head to run his tongue over your nipples instead. His hair tickles your skin as he lavishes your breasts with his attention, any attempts at pulling him closer thwarted by his hands pinning your wrists to the bed.

His hot mouth leaves blushing speckles across your chest, and even as you squirm, you wait. He slides his fingers into you first, and your eyes flutter shut at the nimble fingers moving along your walls, curling and rubbing where it makes you writhe. You whimper in protest when he pulls them out just as your walls start fluttering around them, knowing he won’t make you wait too long. 

Or he might, so the moment he loosens his hold on you, you act–a quick twist of your hips leaves you straddling his hips, leaving trails of ardent kisses across his abdomen, over taut muscles and old scars. His eyes are bright when you straighten to take his cock in your hand, not hesitating even for a second as you lift your hips to bring it to your entrance, sinking down on it with a shuddering breath and your eyes rolling to the back of your head. 

“That’s a good girl,” he praises, his fingers digging into your hips as watches your cunt engulf his stiff length, squeezing him tight as if in greeting. “Look at you, always taking my cock so well.“ 

“God, I’ve missed you,” you moan, struggling to stay upright at the feeling of fullness. “You feel so good.” You know he's watching, taking in every single movement–the slow grind of your hips, the swaying of your breasts, willing to let you fuck yourself on his cock to your heart's desire. 

You falter when he begins to thrust up, meeting every roll of your hips with his own, a smile still teasing across his lips as your motions become swifter, your eyes losing focus as you stumble towards that sweet, sweet unravelling. You won't let him snatch it away from you, not again, and you know he will if he sees you waver even a little. 

"Look at me." 

You do, locking eyes with his, the molten grey of his eyes shaking your unsteady heart further. "I-I'm so c-close-"

"Would you like a little help?" He waits for your frantic nod before revving up his thrusts, reaching almost casually for your swollen nub as you bounce wildly on his cock, rubbing it dexterously and propelling you over the edge. It makes you keen, your head thrown back, your walls palpitating–then his arms are around you, your face pressed into the side of his neck as you quiver minutely. 

You come down from the high with soft, dirty whispers in your ear, your breasts pressing into the firm planes of his chest and–you realize with a jolt–his length still hot and hard in you. 

"There we go," he murmurs approvingly as you pull away to look at him. He still looks infuriatingly unruffled, but the evidence of his ardour is straining within you and his fingers still dig into your skin sporadically. It flickers in his eyes, behind his mask of cool composure, almost admiring as he takes in your wrecked state. And so, you wait. "You okay?"

"Mhm." You kiss the palm of his hand as it moves to cup your jaw, earning you an appreciative smile. 

"That was beautiful. Now-" He shifts you off his lap, pulling out without any warning, making you hiss at the sensitivity. “On your hands and knees, sweetheart,” he commands roughly, his palm coming down on your ass in a firm snack, and you scramble to follow it, crawling to the middle of the bed where you wait for him on trembling limbs. You don't have to wait long.

He’s too selfish to deny himself your inviting heat, and you’re proven correct when you feel his swollen head pressing into your slit, pushing through with no resistance. He grinds into you languidly, the palm of a hand sliding down to take a handful of your ass in it, an approving grunt leaving him as you push your hips back into him, moving them in slow, tight circles. 

It’s when you start to whimper his name that he finally pulls out halfway, snapping his hips into yours in a powerful thrust, repeating the motion over and over again until your back arches and you’re half-babbling, half-screaming, nearly incoherent. The sound of his skin slapping against yours is loud, obscene and only adds to your slow descent into madness. It hurts, but you would die before you let him stop.

Then, Chrollo is leaning over you, one arm braced against the bed while the other dances along the length of your spine to curl around your body, his hand catching a swaying breast immediately. He doesn’t stop drilling into you even for a moment, even when your walls clamp down around him the moment you feel his teeth sink into your shoulder. 

“I want you to come around my cock, ___. Will you do that for me?” he rasps against your skin.

“Chro-fuck,” you wail, the scream of his name cut off when his hand wanders down to your sex, his fingers trapping your clit between them. Your climax renders you speechless this time, your eyes glazing over as it crashes against you. His mouth is at your ear, his voice seeming like it’s come from across the room. 

“Such a good girl,” he groans, his thrusts nearly faltering as he feels your heat fluttering madly–but they resume instantly, fucking your through your daze, quickening as he chases his own end. It finds him swiftly, encouraged by your pained moans at how sensitive your sex is. What startles you are his harsh whispers against your skin as his length finally twitches, pulsing within you. “You're so good for me, sweetheart–I’m not giving you up, never-“ 

You squeeze him hard and he curses as your cunt milks every single drop from his slowly softening cock, his fervent words–even if they were said in the throes of passion–sending tendrils of warmth through your chest. 

You struggle to catch your breath as he buries his head in your hair, not pulling out just yet. You’re both then startled when your arms give out, leaving your face buried in the velvet bedspread–and you feel him slip out with a laugh, allowing you to turn until you’re laying on your side, facing him. He runs a hand through his hair, his flushed cheeks belying his level expression. It brings you a secret delight when you see that it extends all the way down to his chest, easily noticeable on his pale skin. You don’t consider it a good fuck unless it leaves Chrollo with rosy cheeks.

You know he’s not big on cuddling, choosing to lay on his side facing you. There is still something deeply intimate about the way he watches you reach your calm, your hair no doubt a mess and your face glowing, unattractively reddened. Chrollo reaches over to sweep your hair away from your face, and you do the same, brushing his damp bangs away from his eyes. 

And then he’s kissing you again, languidly, deeply, as if he’s savouring it. You can’t help but smile into it, your heart feeling full when you feel him mirror it, a soft, contented noise leaving him.

A part of you thinks it’s all for show. The bigger part of you doesn’t care, because it feels so fucking good. Because he’s running his fingers over your skin, pressing kisses lazily. Try as you might, you can't quite keep your eyes open. 

“I’ll go get us some food. Why don’t you take a nap?” he suggests, already moving to follow through. 

"Ah, wait-" you protest, reaching for him, but the words die in your throat. You don't want it to end, not now, but you don't know how to say that–knowing he's probably got bigger, nefarious things to do. Your struggle is futile, because Chrollo reads you easily, shifting you on the bed to pull the bedspread back and over you. "I-you-"

"We've got plenty of time, don't worry," he assures you. "But you'll need some food before we can go play in the bath." 

His sly smile tells you exactly what he means by that. What you interpret from that is that he's not leaving right away. The relief must be clear on your face because he leans in, tilting his head curiously.

"Did you think were done?" He laughs when you look away in embarrassment, trying to duck under the covers. He hugs you through them, tucking your head under his chin. “Already?”

“I didn’t say anything!” Your voice is muffled but he still chuckles at the hint of annoyance in it.

"Oh, no, sweetheart," he coos, lifting the soft cover of your shield and pressing his lips to your temple. "You still have so much more to learn. And I never make the same mistake twice."

[thesvenqueen]

With All My Love

Rating: MA 

Pairing: Kristanna (as if it would be anything else)

Also on AO3

Previous Chapters

{Chapter 17}

Anna awakens to the feel of fingers running through her hair and she smiles as she feels Kristoff’s lip press against her forehead. They are still entangled together, Anna’s arm wrapped around as much of Kristoff’s body as she can manage. She lies on top of his chest, his heart beat a steady rhythm that could easily lull her back to sleep. 

If not for their bareness and the dull ache between Anna’s legs, she would have half a mind to think last night was a dream. She hums at the image of it all, of the satisfaction of finally being completely and fully with Kristoff. 

Well, not completely satisfied. 

The thought brings a new ache to Anna’s core, one that she knows Kristoff could satisfy. That only he could only ever satisfy. 

Smirking mischievously, Anna rolls her head till her chin is propped on his chest. Kristoff is looking at her with hooded eyes, a small smile on his lips. It had been a long day for them both, Anna can see the bit of exhaustion in his eyes that she knows is more than likely in her own. There is also, as always when she looks at him, the same look of pure, honest love.

It makes Anna’s center ache even more, instinctively squeezing her thighs together for any bit of friction. 

Lazily, she runs her nails across his chest, causing Kristoff to twitch every so often at the feel. Then she moves her hand down and down, till she finds his length. Kristoff gasps, unable to keep his eyes on her as she lightly drags her fingers up and down his shaft. 

It twitches up towards her fingers, growing hard with her movements, and Kristoff fingers that are tangled in her hair grab the back of her head. When she takes hold of his length fully in her hand, Kristoff throws his head back against the pillow, groaning at the feel. It takes little time before he is hard in her grasp, and when he is, Anna moves to straddle him.

It was her turn to please him, to show him the love and admiration he showed her last night. Though as Kristoff brought his hands to her, one cupping her breast while the other held tightly to her hip as she slowly lowered herself onto his length, she was sure he would satisfy her all the same. 

~.~

There is a new air of excitement whenever Kristoff returns home. Not to say Anna wasn’t excited before, she always was, but now it’s different.

Now, there is no hesitation, no need to stop before they go too far. 

Now there is nothing keeping them from chasing the spark of desire along the river’s edge, Anna gripping tightly to Kristoff’s shoulder as he takes her against a nearby tree.

Now Anna is able to watch the sky change from it’s bright array colors, watching the stars appear as she sees her own as Kristoff brings her to her peak with his mouth. 

Now Kristoff seems to struggle to get out of bed now, not wanting to depart from her. Though most times, it’s from Anna able to keep him beside her with a rock of her hips, her hand stroking his length or even her tongue. 

Anna thought she could never love someone more than she did but with every passing day, her heart seems to want to burst with every new moment spent with Kristoff. 

~.~

It’s on a rare day off for Kristoff that it happens. 

Anna was busy feeding the chickens in their new pen, one they had put the finishing touches on just yesterday afternoon, spreading the seeds out for them all to enjoy when she hears it. 

For a moment, she thinks she is just hearing things, shrugging as she goes back to feeding the chickens. Though after a moment, she realizes that no, she did hear something.

Hooves.

Anna takes a few steps away from the clucking chickens, trying to focus more on the sound. She realizes that is not in fact just one set of hooves, oh no, it is several sets off in the distance. It’s while she stands, straining to hear that she notices the sound becoming louder, stronger. It hits her then in utter horror that they are getting closer, coming straight for them. 

Moving with haste, she turns and dumps the last bit of seeds into the pen, and heads to the back of the barn. For a second, she thinks of running into the woods, hiding within the trees. She thinks no, she doesn’t want to go too far, can’t risk being seen by anyone and though the forest is thick it wouldn’t be able to hide her near as well. 

Not to mention that she doesn’t want to be too far, can’t risk not knowing what happens while she hides within the woods.

Instead, she turns to the back of the barn door. There were several different places she could hide, in fact, immediately one comes to mind. So carefully, quietly, she opens it just enough to slip in and closes it with barely a sound. 

A grunt from behind as she enters her makes Anna jump, turning around to see Sven looking at her wide eyes. He grunts again, a warning Anna thinks and she nods at him in semi-understanding as they both can hear the hooves rapidly approaching/

She has to hide, now. 

She looks up at her idea, spying the small hay loft just above them. It was just big enough to fit two or three bails of hay, and maybe one small enough person could wedge themselves between the hay and the barn wall. 

Anna moves to the ladder, climbing carefully with soft steps up the and up, reaching the top when the hooves seem to be right outside the barn doors. She thanks her lucky stars that Kristoff had not yet come to tend to Sven, leaving the doors still closed shut, hiding her from view of whomever it was it may be outside.

Though, Anna has a feeling she knows.

She prays, hopes she is wrong as she crawls her way to the far side of the loft, squeezing herself between the wall and hay. It’s a tight fit, one that is stuffy and extremely uncomfortable but safe from view of anyone who comes up to see.

Her heart is hammering in her chest, beating so loudly that it takes her a moment to realize the group has come to a halt. There is a brief moment of silence, only broken from what she thinks is the sound of people dismounting, several in fact along with a few muffled voices too far to hear. Then there is the sound of the cabin door opening and closing, heavy footsteps along the porch.

“Can I help you?” Kristoff asks, and Anna can almost see the annoyed look on his face, hiding the worry she is sure he is feeling deep down. Possibly wondering where she was, if she was safe and hidden.

“Afternoon sir.” A man speaks with a confident, bellowing voice, “We are here under the orders of Prince Hans of the Southern Isles.”

Anna blinks, eyes widening, What?!

“Last I checked, we are not in the Southern Isles.” Kristoff says, “This is Arendelle is it not?”

There is a pause and Anna wonders if the man who spoke is taken aback, thrown off by Kristoff’s words and his gruffiness. She wouldn’t be surprised if this was the first this man, whomever he was from the Southern Isles, had yet to face such hostility from the start.

Then again, Anna thinks, showing up as they go to someone’s home would bring hostility from anyone really.

The man coughs, begins to speak once more, “Then surely you are aware that your Princess is missing?”

Anna gulps. 

“Actually, I was not aware of it. Though that explains a whole hell of a lot of things that have happened in Arendelle.”

“Come again?”

“They’ve already searched everything.” Kristoff says, gruffly, “Stopped every villager and trader within the town nearly every day. Searched every shop, home and even boat that was docked. They tore the village apart and never once told us why. Only kept asking if we’d seen the princess and that was it. We assumed maybe she had disappeared, guess we know for sure now.”

There is another pause before the man begins to speak again. 

“Yes, well, either way Prince Hans is betrothed to marry the Princess in weeks time. He arrived weeks ago to begin the process, to meet his bride to be, and was shocked to find that she was missing.” The man clears his throat, “For what seems to be a while in fact. He has requested we search every home, within Arendelle and surrounding, for her highness.”

“Arendelle already performed a search.”

“Yes, well, obviously not a good one if she has not been located. This is why we have been instructed to re-search everything top to bottom.”

“Maybe she isn’t in Arendelle anymore. Has anyone considered that?”

“Yes, in fact, her majesty has already spoken to the several captains and merchants who were here that day. None have seen the princess aboard their ships.”

“Ever thought that they were lying?”

The man huffs a laugh, “I find it hard to believe one would lie to the Queen.”

“Sure you do.” Kristoff says, and Anna smiles at what she is sure was an eye roll. “Listen, you have no authority to search my home. You are not from here.”

“We are soldiers of the Southern Isles.” Soldiers?! “As captain, I have authority to lead such searches even on foreign soil.”

“And as a citizen of Arendelle, I have every right to refuse a foreign group coming into my home.”

“It is merely a search sir. Won’t take long, not afraid we will find something are we?”

“Other than the fact I live alone? No, but you have no business going through my property.” Kristoff pauses, Anna imagining him standing his ground, arms crossed, eyeing over the group of soldiers before him. “I’ll tell you the same as I told the Arendelle guards, I have no idea where the princess is. She isn’t here. I have not heard or seen anyone that would even fit the description of royalty up here. Even if I had,” Kristoff says with a pause, “I wouldn’t tell you.”

“Sir, I’d be careful with your words, I could hold you to treason.”

“Treason?” This makes Kristoff scoff, “You’re on my home soil, you have no power here.”

“I am a Captain of the Southern Isles battalion, a part of Prince Hans’ royal guard, I have more authority than you.”

“And still a soldier. You can’t hold me for treason.”

“Aye, I may be just a soldier, but I am still a soldier.” There is a sound of a sword unsheathing and Anna panics, placing her hands over her mouth to keep her from screaming.

They wouldn’t, they couldn’t.  

Could they?

It would be so easy, so simple to kill him without anyone ever knowing. 

“Either let us search your land, or refuse and I can not promise it will go well for you.”

“Threatening me now? That’s rich.”

“Will you let us search?” The man yells, more than likely right in Kristoff’s face, sword drawn. 

No doubt it would take one false move, one wrong word and these men could easily end things here and now. Worse thing, they would not even care to do so. 

As Kristoff said, this wasn’t their people, nor their land. If one Arendelle villager died, so far up in the woods as well, no one would ever suspect the soldiers. It would be easy, so easy for them to hide it all. To put an end to this little spat to do the work they had requested. 

Anna gulps, trying to calm her beating heart and twisting stomach. If the soldiers of the Southern Isles were like this, so harsh and cruel, then Gods could only imagine how this Prince Hans could be.

No doubt he had encouraged them, asked them to do whatever was needed to find her. The fact the soldiers, the captain himself were so quick to act as he had without any hesitation showed he feared no reprimanding for whatever he would do. 

Meaning, Anna realizes, they cared little for the people here, for Arendelle at all. They were here for the prize, and nothing more: her.

There is a deafening silence, one that brings tears to Anna’s eyes. If he refuses, Anna could not imagine having to find his broken body once the soldiers had left, to hear him die below her as she tried to stay silent, to stay still. 

That was if they didn’t find her.

Surely if she was found, there would be no peace after that. Kristoff would be accused of kidnapping and treason to the crown, and who knew what the captain would do then. There would be no reason to keep him alive, no reason to hold back their weapons as they do now. 

Kristoff would be a dead man. 

There was no choice, he was completely backed into a corner, one similar to where Anna hid now: tight and constricting. He had to let him search, risk them finding her, to keep the peace and to get them to leave as soon as he could. He had to trust her, trust she was hidden somewhere she wouldn’t be found. 

Anna knew, having been told so many times, how much he trusted her with everything he had.

He whispered it to her, told her as though it was a secret, how much he believed in her. He knew she was strong, stronger than anyone else he’d ever known and he loved her for it. 

So it came as no surprise after another moment, she hears the sound of a sword being sheathed then the captain’s voice bellows: “Search everything.” 

[originofjaehyun]

Interlude: No More Drama | Part 3 | Boom

Interlude: No More Drama Masterlist

Word count: 3,178

Warnings: None except for mentions of cigarette I guess

Part 3 | Boom

“It was rather good baby, the day you were standing there again like a picture.”

Prev • Next

Jaehyun’s used to girls flocking around him.

He never meant to boast about his look, but it would be a lie if he told people that he's not confident with it. His pale skin, combined with the defined jaw, decorated with a pair of brown eyes that could penetrate with just a look, he is chiseled to perfection. 

There are many times where he would go to clubs, either with a friend or with his clients, just to have the rest of the night pretending he’s having a good time when he’s not. He is sick with the same pattern, girls trying to steal his attention, trying their best to seducing them. He has witnessed more than a handful of women that wore something that could barely hold their breasts. 

Jaehyun hated these types of girls. But he would hold them just for the sake of temporary satisfactions. What is wrong with hookups, as long as both parties gave their consent? They would feel like they owned Jaehyun the next morning, texted him even when they were already back at their respective homes. But Jaehyun would never respond, seeking nothing more but just a one night stand.

Not until he saw you.

He was sitting right across you, so he had a full picture of how you look that night. You were pretending, just like him. He saw a glimpse of him in you. When you made eye contact with him, he thought you would be another girl that he would bring home for the night, expecting you to send back another flirtatious peek just like how other girls would. But no, he was just another indifferent person for you. You’re back, talking with your best friend and letting out the most genuine smile of the night.

Curious.

He thought as he continued to observe you. In the end, he saw his opportunity to find you, as you walked towards the balcony for a smoke. The moment Jaehyun’s lips touch yours, he feels like a bolt runs through his vines. His heart beats faster as the kiss becomes more intense. Your kisses feel like the first spring for Jaehyun.

Jaehyun woke up with the absence of your presence. So she left, he thought to himself. This is nothing new to Jeong Jaehyun. Every time he had those casual sex, there are times where his partner would just storm outside without even bothered to say goodbye. He’s used to it.

It’s a shame, he thought there’s something different... from you.

It just makes sense for him to flinch when you suddenly opened the door with two glasses of water on both hands.

“Sorry, did I wake you up?” You said to him, apologetically. Worried that you’ve woken him up from his slumber because of the ruckus you’ve made.

You put the glasses on the side table, “I thought you’ll wake up feeling thirsty after… Uhm, last night.” You gulped, feeling slightly embarrassed as you remembered how he devoured you just a few hours ago.

“I’m sorry for barging your apartment, but you look so content in your sleep that I don’t want to wake you up. I promise I didn’t steal anything.”

Me, content? 

This is something new to Jaehyun. This is the first time he sleeps longer than his partner. Even when they left without trying to not wake him up, he would pretend that he’s still asleep, just for the sake of being polite.

He stared at you, scanning how you look, before letting out a soft hoarse simper.

“There’s nothing much in my place anyway, but I’m guessing you’ve taken a liking on my shirt?”

You blushed, “Well, I technically passed out last night, and you refused to let me go after the fourth round.”

“We left our clothing in the hallway, so I just grab whatever is lying here. I hope you don’t mind, here’s yours.” You passed the already-folded shirt and trousers to him. “Uhm, your boxer is in the middle. I left your coat at the coat hanger.”

He blinks repeatedly, without replying to your statement. Realizing he might still be collecting himself after being woken up, abruptly, you continued your speech.

“I’ll be gone before long. I hope you’re ok with me changing here, I don’t know where your bathroom is and I’ve been barging long enough.”

You’ve sensed that his gaze has become softer, eyes gleaming.

“Don’t change yet.” He finally talked to you. “Can you come here instead?”

He stretched out his arms, adorably asking for your presence. He pressed both of his lips together, acting spoiled and forcing the dimples to come out. After last night, he actually asked, rather than commanding. You let out a small chuckle, before falling on top of him, cuddling with each other.

You took a moment to enjoy the silence between you. The room only filled with the sound of your breathing, harmonizing with each other. He casually caressed your hair, tightening his hugs while making sure you’re still comfortable in between his arms. This man could be gentle too, so you thought, after seeing him being so beastly last night. He placed a kiss on your temple, then playfully snuffling himself onto your hair.

“I should get going.” You stopped him from tickling you further.

“As much as I enjoy this and it’s Saturday morning, I think I’m overstaying my welcome.”

“Who said so? I can do this all day.” He put his head on the crook of your neck, continued to act spoiled. “At least stay for breakfast? I can cook for you.”

“You’re good looking, smell nice, extremely experienced in bed and now you can cook? God seems a bit unfair when he created you, huh?” You scoffed at his statement, making him burst in laughter.

“But really, I have to turn down the offer. My best friend will start hunting for me if she knows I’m at a stranger’s house. But thank you for your kindness.”

You raise yourself up, ready to change back to the attire you wore last night. He then limped himself back to the bed, staring at the ceiling as you changed. 

“Can I see you again?” He’s now sitting down again, watching as you continued to wear your pants.

You zipped your trousers.

“Oh Jaehyun,” You walked towards him, picking up the phone you left at his side table. “You’re a charmer, you’d find plenty of women like me.”

You plant a kiss on his forehead, before striding your way to his apartment door.

–

“Do you have everything ready?”

You rolled your eyes before replying to the owner of the sweet voice. “Joy, this is the fifth time you’ve asked me and yes, I have everything.”

She sighed, “Well, it’s only natural for us to be nervous, right? After all, we are going to meet a representative from NCT Corp., big bucks, y’know?” She rubs her thumb with her index and middle fingers, acting like there’s a dollar bill in between. 

“Well, my dear friend, you’re in luck cause the creative director is coming with you. Besides, ever heard a rumor that our clients would prepare a signed document beforehand if they knew I’m coming?” You said while shrugging your shoulders.

“Fucking show off.” Joy rolled her eyes.

“Language, miss.”

She then clings your arm, acting spoiled – in case you would ask her to go home early; which is not a good sign. 

Both of you then proceed to enter the car, provided by the company that’s ready to drive you to the potential client’s office, NCT Corp., located at the heart of Seoul. It is a commercial property services firm, the biggest in South Korea. It has managed billions of square feet in property and facilities management and has done over thousands of leasing transactions. No wonder Joy breaks to sweat when she’s told that she’s going to be in this project with you when the client is in such caliber.

That’s not the case for you. You love the challenge and you love the thrill, when you’re faced with something that needs more than just a simple multiplication, your brain starts to work in wonders and you love that feeling. You love being in control of your job and you take pride in every work you’ve done.

You aligned at the lobby. It’s very modern and chic, but you know that the marbles that they used to decorate the floor would cost a fortune.

“Hi, how can I help you today?” The lady at the receptionist greeted you with a wide grin.

“Hi, I’m here to meet Mr. Seo? We’re scheduled to have a meeting at three.”

“OK Miss, may I have your ID card?”

You swiftly took your wallet and gave her your ID card.

“It’s [Y/N] [Y/L/N], from The Paper Plane.”

She then scans your ID card and flips open the ever-thick notes, filled with the black ink marking the company’s busy schedule. She stopped at one of the lines, before handing over two guest cards.

“Ms. [Y/N], we’ve confirmed your appointment today with Mr. Seo. All you need to do is to tap the card on the entry, and press the number 27 at the elevator.” She continues and pointing the direction of her right, showing you which way to go.

You grab both of the guest cards, handing one of the cards to Joy, “Thank you very much!”

She nods, “You’re welcome, I’ll inform Mr. Seo immediately that you’ve arrived. Have a good day!”

You’re trying your best not to let out a loud gasp when you reach the 10th floor. While the lobby downstairs was leaning towards the grandiose side, the current floor opts for a more humbled tone. The space was designed with a monochrome palette with wooden accents. The pillars were painted in black, but what impressed you the most was the wide panoramic window, showing off the breathtaking view the employees got to see every single day. You are then greeted with another person, this time a young man with curly brown hair, skin washed in a healthy tan. His eyes flicker at the sight of you.

“Are you Ms. [Y/L/N]?” He asked you and you nod.

“Great, I’m Donghyuck and I’m Mr. Seo’s current assistant. Please, follow me.” He said quickly, refusing to waste any more second. 

“Nice office, by the way.” Joy jumped into the conversation. 

Donghyuck chuckled, while he continued to lead his way, “Our Mr. Seo hated it when we’re constrained in the same view every day, thus the wide window.”

“You’d be surprised by how many times he forced us to brainstorm with him near the window. There’s a reason why I have my tan on, despite not taking any vacations.” He put his hand next to his mouth, being extra careful not to be caught by his boss talking about him. Both of you just laugh at his remark, making sure you stopped before Donghyuck knocks the door in front of you.

“Mr. Seo?” Donghyuck asked the person in question, being replied with a muted ‘yes’.

“The people from The Paper Plane are here.”

“Oh, please come in!”

Donghyuck enters the room, leaving the door open so that you ladies can enter after him. You didn’t make him wait for long, as you stride your way in. You’re then faced with a very tall man, a handsome chap. His eyes were the color of the earthy brown, glistening like an old copper penny. He greets you with a smile, showing you a dimple that is located on one of his cheekbones. 

“Hi, I’m [Y/N] [Y/L/N]. It’s great to finally meet you.”

“Pleasure is all mine. I’m Johnny Seo, Chief Marketing Officer for NCT Corp.” He said as he shook your hand, letting you smell his fragrance, noting the spicy and woody scent.

“I hope finding your way here was not difficult?” He continues as he made a gesture to let you and Joy sit on the couch at his office. 

“Not at all, Mr. Seo. There was a slight traffic jam at the corner of the street, probably because today is Friday. Otherwise, there’s no way we could miss such a beautiful office.”

A gum smile appears from his face, “Please, just call me Johnny. I might have the chief branded as my title, but I believe I’m too young for people to call me Mr. Seo all the time.”

“But you are an exception, Donghyuck, let’s try to make us look professional in front of these ladies, okay bud?” He then jokingly glared at the younger boy, causing him to hold his laughter. Both you and Joy are quick to realize that the person in front of you is definitely friendly, and kind for loosening up the atmosphere. He probably noticed how nervous Joy was.

“So, let’s get started, shall we? I booked my calendar for this, but surely I’m a busy person!”

You softly giggle, “Right, that is why I got you covered.” A brow raised from Johnny’s face, impressed with the amount of reference you brought with you.

–

“And that, finally concludes everything!”

A joyful squeal came from Joy’s mouth – no pun intended. You didn’t realize the sun was already set when you wrapped up your meeting.

“I know from the beginning I was right for choosing The Paper Plane.” Johnny smiles, followed by him stretching out his shoulder due to hours long of conversing with you. “Your portfolio impresses me, [Y/N], I’m looking forward to our project.”

You helped Joy, cleaning up the papers from the coffee table where you guys were pouring out your ideas. 

“Shit, it’s already this late?!”

“Hush, Joy!” You shrieked in panic, eyes wide open as a warning for Joy who just tragically cursed in front of their client. Thankfully Johnny signed the deal already. If not, there goes your hard work.

Johnny, as kind as he is, just laughs at it, “Please don’t mind me, it’s over our working hours anyway, so we’re allowed to be our personal self again.” He said as if he knows that you’re scared of offending him. “Regardless, is there anything wrong, Joy?”

It’s only because he is Johnny Seo and the charisma that he has that he could easily be casual with someone who just jammed hours-long meetings with him. Joy, glad that she ended up didn’t fuck this meeting, quickly grabbed her phone and texting someone before replying to Johnny. “I’m meeting my girlfriends tonight. We’ve planned this dinner since God-knows-when.”

“Wait, you got an appointment? And here I thought we always eat somewhere after our meetings! It’s our tradition, no?” You whined at the last minute change-of-plan, clearly unhappy with the sudden news.

Joy gasps as her eyes widens, “Oh no! I’m sorry I forgot to tell you!” She said as her eyes continue to move frantically, concerned because you would usually eat dinner with her and now the probability of you having your dinner alone is almost absolute.

Just when you’re about to say you’re going to order a delivery or something, Johnny cuts you off, “If you don’t mind, [Y/N], I’m meeting a friend tonight. You can join me for dinner if you want.”

“Oh, please don’t take it the wrong way,” worried that you might start to have a weird judgment about him. “The person in question is my long-time best friend. We’ve known each other for years and we’re constantly in touch. So a night without my friend whining and complaining about life would actually be a good idea.” 

You then look to Joy’s direction, telepathically asking for her advice. Her face said that you should go with it, but you’re still doubting.

“I’m sure my friend will like you,” he continues. “Also, I think your portfolio, combined with your personality will impress ‘em.”

“Well, uhm,”

It’s not that you hate meeting a new person, you’re just not sure how you could be comfortable by having dinner with a – if you dare to say so; a client that could secure your income for the rest of the quarter. Even so, the addition of his friend that you don’t even know what kind of high profile that person has tripled your worry.

“My treat?” Johnny looks at you, shoulders are now both ups, making it his last straw for you to come with him.

You finally laughed, “Oh dear, you surely know how to win someone’s heart.”

Johnny smirked from ear to ear, “Well, I trained for years. It’s only right for me to be able to do so.”

–

“You’re not treating me at Wolfgang’s.”

You stopped your step after you saw the restaurant sign. Wolfgang’s Steakhouse is a steakhouse that originally came from Park Avenue in Manhattan. Ever since it opened its chain restaurant in Seoul, it has been packed with celebrities and other VVIPs. You’re not the type of person who would be stingy with how you spend your money on food but definitely would think twice if you’re going to splurge that much money over a single meal.

Johnny then turned his way to you, before then a waiter opened the door for him.

“Well, consider it as a token of my apology for taking your time during the meeting, and for taking our time before making it for dinner. Besides, me and my friend are regulars at this restaurant. It’s always our go-to if we want to have a good meal. The steak’s awesome, the wine’s great, and the people here are relatively more, I would say, conservative in comparison to other places? So I can actually hear my partner talking, not some random gibberish from others.”

You just felt like you’re underdressed for Wolfgang’s. Not to the point where you’re ready to scoot your ass on a street-food stall at Myeong-dong (those are awesome, by the way), you’re glad that you still dressed properly to meet this client of yours. But you wished you’ve worn something fancier if you were to know your future patronage is going to treat you for an expensive meal.

But since you’re here and your stomach is clearly not on your side if you want to leave the place, you unconsciously follow behind Johnny’s tall figure, and even if you consider yourself not that petite, Johnny would still be able to hide your stature.

“My friend’s already here.” He said while looking at his phone. “He said he’s seated in our usual spot… Oh, there he is!” His eyes wide-opened at the sight of his friend.

So does yours.

“Jaehyun, buddy! Sorry I got caught in traffic!”

It’s been over a month since the night you left his apartment. He didn’t see you at first, no thanks to Johnny’s tall figure, but once he saw your face, his face perks up, you could’ve sworn you didn’t see his invisible tail wagging.

But whatever that has happened, you find yourself smiling without even realizing it, at the sight of him.

A/N: Sorry if this chapter was a bit too... slow in pace in comparison to the first two ones? At least this is how I envisioned Boom to be, just simply sweet. It was also hard to put the lyric into the chapter I literally squeezed my creative juice for this lols also im sorry the words are getting longer and longer by each chapter

[jwillowwolf]

Magic and Miracles - Chapter 2

Sanders Sides Big Bang fic, Chapter 2!

< Previous Chapter | Next Chapter > | Masterlist

Summary: “Did you really teach yourself magic?”

“Yes. I learnt from whatever books it could find on the subject.”

Janus nodded. “Impressive."

Warning/s: food mention, fantasy racism.

Characters: Logan, Remy, OC, Virgil, Roman, Remus, Patton, Janus.

Tag List: @theimprobabledreamersworld @remy-please-come-back

Read on AO3

2 | Getting to Know You

Logan followed the group just barely as he found himself constantly distracted by his surroundings. The paintings, tapestries, vases, and statues, there seemed to be nearly no blank spaces anywhere, yet it didn’t feel cluttered at all. Everything was remarkable and expensive looking. And eye-catching.

In fact, he didn’t notice when the group had stopped moving and walked right into Virgil, which caused him to stumble backwards. Thankfully, Virgil caught him before he fell onto his butt.

“Careful where you’re walking, Lo. you don’t want to end up walking into a door,” Remy remarked from the front of the group.

Logan blushed. “Sorry.”

Virgil just helped him to his feet and nodded.

“Okay, now please pay attention. This hall has all your rooms and this one,” Remy pointed to the first door on the right. “Is mine. They’re all identical and I couldn't be bothered to assign them to you, so take your pick. Everyone has an hour to get settled then we meet back here in the hall for a tour. Good? Good. Farewell.”

And with that, he retreated into his room. Roman chose the room beside Remy’s and Remus took the one beside him, then Patton took the last room on the right side. Virgil took the first room on the left, which left Janus, Logan, and Willow in the hallway.

“Um, thanks, for earlier. With explaining the last-names thing,” Willow said.

Logan nodded. “It was no problem.”

“You would be surprised how many people find it problematic to understand non-humans,” Janus remarked.

“Well, I have no such prejudices. Also, thank you for calling out Roman’s behaviour.”

“Of course. I can’t stand elves who believe themselves higher than everyone.”

“You can’t stand elves in general,” Willow muttered.

“And for good reason. Have you seen Roman?”

Willow winced. “Remus was nice… kind of.”

“She called you a dog.”

“It’s a common mistake.”

“You’re too forgiving.”

Willow rolled her eyes and turned to Logan. “They’re such a hypocrite.”

Janus huffed. “I’m right here.”

“You’re being mean though, so I’m ignoring you.”

Janus rolled their eyes then also turned their attention to Logan. “Did you really teach yourself magic?”

“Yes. I learnt from whatever books it could find on the subject.”

Janus nodded. “Impressive. How did you manage to find a tome that explained pronunciation?”

“I didn’t. I sort of figured that part out from watching the testing ceremonies.”

“In that case, why not replicate the simple performances other mages made beforehand? It’s not against any rules to do the same spell sequence as someone else.”

“I didn’t want to waste the opportunity. Perhaps it was a bit… over the top to do the spell I did, but I managed to leave an impression.”

Janus smirked. “I suppose that’s a good reason. Anyway, it looks like we’re the last to pick rooms. I’m taking the one on the end, see you both later.”

With that, the trio split up into their rooms. Janus taking the one at the end on the left, and Willow leaving the choice between the two doors between Janus and Virgil’s rooms for Logan to choose between. He chose the one next to Virgil’s, allowing Willow to have the room closer to Janus.

Inside the room, there was a queen-sized bed with four tall wooden posts that suspended a silky blue canopy. There was a dresser, a wardrobe, a writing desk, and a half-empty bookshelf. The books didn’t seem to be anything special. Logan’s bag was already on his bed. He only now realised that he’d left it in the carriage. One of the staff members must have brought it here. Thank goodness they brought it to the right room.

Wait, that was his bag, right?

He double-checked the contents and sighed in relief that it was indeed his bag. After that slight scare, he began unpacking his things and sorting the room just how he wanted it. He was delighted to find some fresh blank papers on the writing desk and a few sharp pencils too.

Forty-five minutes later, everything was organised just the way that Logan wanted and he was… bored out of his mind. He flopped down onto the bed and was distracted for a few moments by how incredibly soft it was. After that novelty wore off though, he found himself bored again and stared up at the blue canopy.

His mind once again thought of how frightening this was. He was truly out of his depth with the complexities and splendour of high society. Perhaps there are some books he can find on the subject to help him. ‘How To Fit In With The Upper Class’

He got up from bed to check if there was such a book, or at least something similar, on the shelf. To his dismay, there seemed to only be fictional novels and a dictionary. He’d need to ask Everleigh about looking out for something at the library. Was there a library here? Remy said that they’d have a tour later so he supposed he’d find out then. Wait, when was that tour?

He checked the clock and noticed that… barely three minutes had passed since he went to lie on the bed. Darn it, there were still at least ten minutes to kill before the tour.

He could have read the fiction novels, but honestly, none of the summaries seemed very appealing. He wondered if he could write something but he didn’t have anything to write. Trying to take a nap was pointless so he found himself just sitting on his windowsill.

The view was rather breathtaking actually. Below there was an array of cobblestone paths, lined with green shrubbery, some of which were dotted with white, pink, and purple buds. There was a hedge in front of the iron fence that lined the property, and beyond that was the dark spruce forest that grew high and looked thick and full of secrets.

Logan wondered briefly what secrets really were hidden there in the forest. Creatures? Monsters? Come to think of it, what was hidden here in the manor. Sure, the students had been permitted to explore the entire estate, but Remy had said that they couldn’t go to the tower. What was in that tower? Books full of forbidden knowledge? A porthole to another realm? A gnome that could turn thread into gold?

No, that was stupid, gnomes don’t like being indoors and surely the Royal Family wouldn’t keep anyone hostage in their private estate. But still, what could be there? It must be something important if even Remy wouldn’t let them know what it was.

“Okay, Tour Time, come on out or get left behind!” Remy called from the hallway, causing Logan to practically fall back into reality as he fell off the windowsill.

He groaned in pain as he got up then went out into the hallway to find Remy and the others waiting for him.

“Alrighty, we’ll begin here. This is the east wing, also known as the guest wing. This particular hallway has been cleaned up for us to use this year so please respect your rooms. The other bedrooms are locked so don’t bother looking at what is inside of them. Now if we go this way...”

The tour lasted for three hours and was mostly without interruption as everyone seemed awestruck by the magnificent manor. Logan was glad not to be alone in his awe as they went through the many different halls and passages. There were countless bedrooms in the east and west wings, private bathrooms on the first floor, several studies, sitting rooms, a library [that Logan clocked for later], extensive several acres of gardens, a ballroom, and a large dining hall fit for royalty, which is where they finished the tour to eat lunch.

There was a variety of smoked meats, fresh loaves of bread, tossed salad, a platter of cheese, and lemonade to wash it all down. Logan didn’t know what half of the meats were but tried a little bit of each. He found that he preferred sticking to the familiar beef slices for his lunch and enjoyed them in the form of a little sandwich.

He noted that while Virgil ate the simple sandwich like him, Roman, Remus, and Patton seemed to prefer the salad, while Willow and Janus ate more meat. Willow preferring theirs medium rare while Janus had used some magic to cook theirs further. Logan wondered if this was to do with their race. Willow was part wolf while Janus was part dragon, making them both somewhat carnivores, so craving a lot of meat seemed reasonable. Maybe he could ask about it later if they didn’t mind.

They had certainly seemed the friendliest to him so far, apart from Patton of course. But Patton seemed the type of person who made friends with everyone. Janus, as Willow had implied earlier, was acting cold towards the twins, and Roman seemed to be returning the same cold energy towards everyone apart from Patton. He even seemed cold to Remus, but more in an annoyed sibling fashion. Remus himself seemed indifferent to everyone, just happily chatting with Pat and sometimes blurting inappropriate thoughts. Willow looked still a bit shy though not nearly as tense as this morning, and Virgil was being silent and mysterious as ever.

“Now that lunch is done, let’s have an icebreaker,” Remy suggested.

“It seems quite warm in here, are you sure the ice needs to be broken?” Patton asked.

Everyone was silent for a moment, either cringing or holding back a laugh. Remy looked like that comment had physically pained him as he stared at Patton.

“Just for that, you’re up first, Patty.”

“Oh, um, what are we doing?”

“We’re going to go around and share a fun little fact about ourselves,” Remy explained.

“Alrighty, well, I like frogs. Sometimes, my brother and I go to the marshes and catch a few to just look at them.” Patton stated.

“You have a brother?” Remus asked.

Patton nodded. “Yeah, my little brother Morgan. He’s twelve and likes frogs almost as much as me.”

“That’s so cool. My brother isn’t even remotely interested in what I like.” Remus sighed.

“That’s because you like gory stories about seafaring hooligans,” Roman said.

“They’re not hooligans, they’re pirates. And I’m going to become one someday.” Remus declared.

Patton cocked his head to the side. “Oh?”

“At least I’d want to do the sailing part, I’ll leave the plunder and pillaging to the others. Unless I get bored,” Remus shrugged.

“I suppose we can accept that as your fact, Remus,” Remy said. “You wanna go next, Rome?”

“Roman, and yes, I shall. I am the best swordsman among the nobility. In fact, I’m to be knighted once I come of age,” Roman declared.

“You need to do an incredible deed to become a knight,” Janus pointed out.

Roman huffed. “Well, I will have you know that my great deed was saving the crown prince himself. Single-handedly.”

Virgil snorted at that.

Roman sneered at him. “And what do you find so amusing, Stormy Knight?”

“You lying about 1, becoming a knight and 2, saving the prince. Everyone knows he’s kept protected in the castle so that no one even knows his face. There's not even a remote chance that you’ve met him.”

“Well, I have. He’s actually quite handsome and much more sophisticated than any one of you. He even personally told me about his idea for this school.”

Virgil just shook his head with amusement.

“I agree with Virgil, you’re lying through your teeth. I suppose we’ll all just have to assume you’re nothing important.” Janus declared.

Roman glared at them. “I am the heir of Lycrest Isle, therefore future governor of the Eastern Ocean. I am a very important person, if not the most important here.”

Janus smirked. “Yet you’re so boring you have to lie about yourself.”

“You-”

“Can go next, Janus, since you’re so eager to speak,” Remy interrupted, steeping between the elf and dragon just in case.

“Alright then. Well, I am known in Evergreen Valley as close to royalty, since I am not only a dragon shifter but also the song of the western governor, Declan the fearless.” Janus stated.

“Cool story kid. Wolfie, you’re up.” Remy announced, ignoring the growing tension between Roman and Janus.

“Um, I grew up with Janus, my eight cousins and two younger siblings, with who I am very close,” Willow said.

“I thought you were part of a pack?” Remus said.

“I am. My pack includes my biological family, and many cousins who I was raised alongside,” Willow explained. “What did you think being a part of a pack meant?”

“Well, if you are a part of a pack, then how did you grow up with Janus?”

“I fostered with the Redrunner pack for most of my childhood,” Janus clarified.

“Oh, so you guys are like childhood friends?” Patton asked.

Willow nodded. “Yep.”

Roman looked over to Willow and said. “I’m sorry.”

“For…?”

“How long you’ve had to stand them.”

“Hey!” Janus snapped. “That is a direct attack against my character.”

“And calling me a liar isn’t?”

“Virgil called you a liar, I only agreed with him.”

“Don’t drag me into this.”

“Yeah, can’t you fight your own battles, Dragon?”

“You want to fight me, Elf?”

“Okay, no, that is where I draw the line,” Remy said in a booming voice that instantly silenced the two teens. “You don’t have to like each other, or get along that well, but there will be no physical fighting while you are under my care. In fact, if I see any of you harm each other, then I’ll send you straight home, no excuses. Am I understood?”

“Yes sir,” everyone replied.

“Great, well, that’s enough fun bonding time for today, I suppose. You can all go back to your rooms now.”

And so, that marked the end of Logan’s interactions with his class for the day, since he went straight to bed once he returned to his room. He had not gotten much sleep the night before due to nerves and excitement, so after everything that had happened, he was more than ready to drift away to dreamland.

Now that he had met his classmates, and gotten to know them if only briefly, he sorely hoped that they wouldn’t cause any disturbances to his learning magic. He didn’t want to fail the second test because of some argumentative teens taking up class time. He would be taking the test alone anyway, so he supposed that it wouldn’t affect him if they all failed. But really, he hoped that was the only fight he’d have to witness this year...

---

A/N: thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed this. I'll be posting two chapters a day until the full fic is up, so if you want to be tagged, you can just ask.

I'd love to hear what you thought about the chapter if you wouldn't mind commenting. Thanks again for reading! Here's hoping you have a magical day 💜