#not so patiently waiting for another chapter of blind spot

[im-not-a-l0ser]

I'm on my period and therefore essentially chair ridden at work so long as I'm able. But I'm bored.

Someone publish something michie or kase so I have something to read. Or Marliver. The world needs more marliver.

[todomochi-uwu]

Who. (2/?) J. Y & S. M

Pairing: Poly! Jeong Yunho x reader x Song Mingi

Genre: Angst, Smut

Warnings: This content is for a mature audience

Synopsis: You can't remember when was the last time you spent time with them, the last "I love you", the last time any of them kissed you.

Other chapters: Part 1 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee ☕

Yunho kept checking the file in his hands, reading over and over the same words not being able to register anything, his head was all over the place, between the tiredness, the stress and his broken heart, concentrating was proving to be impossible.

“Careful, Jeong. If you think any harder your head might catch on fire.” Said Lee Minho entering the doctor’s launch with an empty coffee mug.

“Piss off, Minho.” He didn't turn his eyes from the paper, determined to make it work no matter how much it took.

Minho’s eyes focused on the taller man in front of him, his skin was paler than normal, a slight blue tint covered it; his eyes were sunk in their sockets, dark purple bags underneath them; lips dry and crusty; he looked thinner, he looked sick. Yunho and Minho weren’t by any means close, they had spent the entire med school fighting for the top spot in their class; Jeong Yunho had proved to be a real pain in the ass, managing to balance school, work, friends and a fucking three-way relationship while Lee Minho could barely sleep and see his, now, husband.

“Not that I care, Jeong but, are you okay?” Said Minho, leaning against the countertop and waiting for the coffee to be done.

Yunho tossed the folder on the table, completely done. He pressed his fingers against his eyelids, trying to calm the blinding headache he had been carrying around his entire shift. “I don’t think it’s any of your business, Lee.”

The cat-eyed doctor shrugged, not wanting to dig any further, he tried. He took his mug and made a beeline straight to the door, but he couldn’t help but look back at his school rival, and what he saw shocked him a bit. His shoulders were slumped, and shaking, his face in between his hands, and small but heavy sobs left his mouth. A suffering Yunho was something he had never expected to see, and while he thought it would bring him joy, it just made him feel weird. He would have to ask Jisung what was going on, he was friends with Mingi, and he would have to know.

______________________________________________________________

Mingi was not doing any better at work. He fell asleep on his desk, barely paid attention at meetings, and was hostile to his co-workers and possible clients. Jongho was done with attitude, he had been patient, as much as he could, and he tried to understand the situation, but it was becoming too much.

“Mingi, I am begging you, please go home, you cannot continue like this. Get some sleep, eat and come back when you are better.” Jongho said as softly as possible, not wanting to trigger another fight with the dirty blonde lawyer in front of him.

“Jongho, I’m okay. I would rather just be working, there’s nothing to do at home anyways.”

“Mingi…” He was interrupted.

“Jongho, I won't repeat myself, leave me alone.” He turned his chair away from the younger lawyer.

That was it. He was done.

Jongho slammed his hand against the desk, startling Mingi, “Listen to me, Mingi, I get that you are sad, okay? I get it. But you cannot come here and act like a fucking dick and expect everyone to be okay with it. We tried to be nice and give you a couple of weeks to recover, but so far, we have lost two important clients because of your attitude and you pissed off three more. I’m sorry she left, but I highly doubt she would come back if she saw the mess you’ve become. Yelling at people, turning work in late, getting drunk, fighting with Yunho, do you think she wants that? Because I highly doubt it.” He jabbed his finger into Mingi’s chest. “Get. Your. Shit. Together.” And with that he left the office, slamming the door on his way out.

Mingi sighed, taking off his tie. He closed his eyes trying to calm down, but it seemed impossible. Anxiety had been tormenting him for almost a month now, and it didn’t seem like it would stop any time soon. He misses you. A lot. He just didn’t know how to function without that missing piece. Nothing was working right now, his head was always a mess, always going back to that night, trying to remember every moment he neglected you; he was trying to balance out his pain and stress to not mess up his relationship with Yunho as well; while also trying to balance out work as to not get fired, or at least not to piss off Jongho even more, but nothing is working. He misses you, and without you, nothing in him works.

______________________________________________________________

Chan was in the kitchen bar working; his heavy and expensive headphones sat on the top of his head while he was nodding along to the rhythm of his last track. He kept replaying it to try and figure out what was missing, what he could change or fix, but he just couldn’t concentrate. Flashbacks kept showing up in his head, replaying again and again, memories of his college days, memories of the time he fell in love with his now roommate and failed to do something about it.

It was the winter semester; the campus was covered in snow and everyone found refuge inside the library. Chan was planning to go there and work on a paper that was due that same night, but once he saw the amount of people inside the building, he decided he wouldn’t be able to work there. And just as he was about to leave, he saw Hongjoong sitting on a couch in the corner, next to him was something that made the producer’s mouth dry. A woman so beautiful his eyes couldn’t believe what they were seeing, his brain couldn’t comprehend what was happening, his feet moved on their own in that direction, he needed to talk to her, to know her name, to introduce himself. His friend got up as soon as he saw him, greeting him and introducing her. Y/n. That was her name, a name Chan would never be able to forget.

A friendship was established that day. You would start by hanging out with Hongjoong, going out to eat, watch a movie or to a party; but soon it became just the two of you. Hanging out at each other’s dorms, he showed you some of his music, and you showed him some of her stories; at first, he would walk you back to her room every night, but after some time you would stay over, “it’s easier” you said. One fateful night, Christopher finally made a move, giving you a quick peck on the lips while listening to your favourite artist’s latest album, the largest seconds of his life were right after, waiting for your reaction; you ended up fucking on top of his desk, pushing all his books, and cd’s to the floor.

That was the way the next months were spent, hanging out and finding any and every excuse to have sex, but never giving a title to what you were. Chan just assumed you weren’t ready for that kind of commitment, convincing himself he was fine with what you had, not admitting he was just too much of a coward to ask if you felt the same as him.

“I just don’t understand him, Jisung. One day he acts as if we were a couple, and the next he calls me his best friend. Friends don’t treat each other the way we do, friends don’t do what we do.”

“Maybe he isn’t ready for that kind of commitment, he would just rather stay as friends with benefits.” Jisung pat her on the back, trying to comfort her.

“But I don’t want to be just friends with benefits.” You pouted her lips.

“Hey, come on, don’t be sad. I'll tell you what, why don’t you come with me to Wooyoung’s party this Friday? You’ll have fun and forget, at least for a bit, about Chan.”

Christopher’s first mistake was introducing you to Jisung. The second one was allowing you to befriend him. And his last, but most fatal one was not going to that party. Why? Because Yunho and Mingi were there.

“Y/n, this my friend Mingi. Mingi, this is Y/n.” And just like that, it was over before it could even begin. That same night Mingi had introduced you to Yunho, and they both were heads over heels for you, they asked you to hang out the very next day and while at first you were confused as to how it would work, they won you over, pushing completely out the idea of Chan off your head.

He remembered the first time you talked about them, he thought you had just made out with one of them at the party, and while he wasn’t exactly happy about it, he could let it slide, no idea of what was about to come. Texts left unanswered; calls that went to voicemail; and long nights waiting for you to show up, but at some point, it became clear, that you were not just sleeping around with them, you were in love. That very same night he went out and got drunk out of his mind, only being able to get back home after Changbin and Minho found him trashed on a bench in front of their building. He blamed himself, if he hadn’t been so scared, if he had just tried, you would be his, and he promised himself that if that door ever opened again, he would be there. But as time went on, it became more apparent that would never happen… until now.

He kept repeating over and over to himself that you weren’t ready, that you still love them and that you were still mourning that relationship, but he couldn’t help himself, he wanted you.

The last month he had been in some kind of hell in heaven. When you first had shown up, he was pissed off beyond comprehension, how could they let this happen? How could they treat you like that? He had spent every second of his existence since he met you, loving and worshipping the ground you walk on and they had let you slip away? Unbelievable. But he couldn’t help but see the perks of all of this. He was the one to console you, to build you back up, and through the course of the weeks, you were better.

He would come back home to you cooking, greeting him the second he went in; you telling him about your day or a new show you were watching; you showed him your work and asked his opinion. Everything went back to how it was; it was even better. This is what he had been missing out all this time?

“Good morning, Channie.”

“Welcome back, Chan. I made some spaghetti; I hope you like it.”

“Hey, Chan. How was work?”

Oh, blissful domesticity. But everything was too good to be true. They would show up in the most subtle ways, in the middle of a conversation, in the notifications of your phone, even in the clothes you wore, they still smell like them; your ex-boyfriends were everywhere in his apartment, tormenting him. And, of course, he wasn’t blind, he could see it, your face still showed how heartbroken you were, and he could also hear it at night, small sobs escaped your mouth, whispering their names again and again.

Yunho…

Mingi…

Never his name.

______________________________________________________________

Jisung had just arrived home, his hands full of grocery bags balancing them while trying to open the door, and just as he was about to spill everything on the ground, a soft hand came to his rescue.

“Jesus, Sungie be careful.” The person behind him giggled.

“Y/n?” His eyebrows furrowed, confused, but he still leaned in and hugged you. “What are you doing here? How did you get in the building?”

“Oh, I live here now.”

“Mingi gave up his rent control apartment? Is he crazy?”

“Um… not exactly.” You scratched the back of your head.

“Okay, come inside and tell me what’s going on.”

…

“And that’s how I ended up living with Chan.” You took a small sip of the hot chocolate Jisung had prepared.

“Have you talked to them?”

You shook your head.

Jisung’s arms were folded against his chest, his eyes looking directly at yours, not sure what to say, “So it’s over between you and them?”

“I don’t know, Hannie. I love them, so much it hurts, but I don't think they feel the same way, they act as if I'm not even there, as if I'm not important to them.” You lay down on the kitchen table, controlling your breathing so you won't start crying.

“Well, that’s just not true.” He put his hand on top of your head, petting you, “Mingi can be an idiot sometimes and the same goes for Yunho, but they love you, baby. From the very first moment they met you, they have loved you, maybe they just lost their tracks for a moment, but they will come back to you.” He kissed you on the forehead, “and if for some reason they don’t, I will be there to help you pick up the pieces.”

______________________________________________________________

Minho arrived late at night, completely done with work and with stubborn patients who thought they knew more than him because they read an article on the internet. Jisung ran to the front door as soon as he heard the jiggling of the keys, ready to receive his grumpy husband. He accompanied him into the kitchen, where he served him a hot plate of his favourite food and told him about this day.

“I found the chips you like on sale so I bought a couple, I also bought the ingredients I was missing for that ramen you want to try, oh and I tried that juice I’ve been craving, but it wasn’t that good.” Minho couldn’t keep up with the number of things that came out of his husband’s mouth, but he was happy to listen. “Oh, oh my god I almost forgot, guess who I ran into?”

“Who?” He said while shoving a spoonful of soup into his mouth.

“Y/n, she broke up with Mingi and Yunho, and she’s staying with Chan.”

Minho choked, coughing aggressively, not believing the words that came out of Jisung’s mouth. Everything made sense now, that’s why the puppy-like doctor had been so miserable the last couple of weeks. And why Chan had been avoiding him lately. He got up and headed towards the door, “Give me a second, love I’ll be right back.”

He made his way down the hall, he was in no mood to do this, but it had to be done. He had witnessed first-hand how completely devastated had Chan been after you had broken his heart (not that he thinks you did it on purpose), how hard it was to get him to shower, to go to work, how long it took him to go back to normal, and he feared it would happen again. He pounded on the door, not caring if the neighbours next door complained. The door opened harshly, a sleep-deprived Christopher on the door side, looking at him as if he had grown to heads.

“Min, it’s two in the morning, what the hell are you doing here?”

The doctor grabbed him by the arm and shoved him into the wall next to the door, “You are going to explain to me exactly what you think you are doing.”

“I'm not doing anything. She’s my friend, I want to help her move…”

He interrupted, “What? Move on? Were you planning to be her saviour so she would fall in love with you? Bang Chan, she’s been engaged to them for almost a year now, they are just going through a rough patch…”

“They broke up.”

“They will get back together, it's more than obvious, they are in love.” He whispered yelling, he was worried, did Chan think he had a chance?

“They neglected her, Minho they took her for granted, I would…”

“Chan, listen to me, she’s not in love with you, whatever you two had it's over, it's been over for years, for Christ's sake.” He shook his shoulders, trying to get some sense into him.

“I know what I'm doing.”

“You clearly, don’t.” He pushed his friend back into his apartment and went back to his. His entire body ached, but anxiety filled his head, not letting him rest.

______________________________________________________________

“So, she finally dumped your ass, good for her honestly,” Minho said as he entered Yunho’s office. The latter one looked up at him, the look in his eyes completely dead. “Geez, you look like shit.”

“What do you want, Minho? I'm busy, I don’t have time for your bullshit.”

“I know where she is.”

“What?” Yunho looked at him with wide-open eyes. “Don’t you fucking dare lie to me about this.” He got up and grabbed Lee by the collar and shook him, “How the fuck do you know that?”

“Because I saw her.” Little white lie, but he technically did know where she was. He pushed him back, “I don’t like you, Yunho, at all. But I know what it's like to be in your shoes, so I’ll make you a deal, you get your shit together and I might just tell you where she is.”

______________________________________________________________

Yunho’s hands kept trembling, he had barely been able to drive home without crashing. He wanted to scream, to cry, to tell Mingi what Minho had told him, all at the same time, but he also thought, what would he say? How could he apologize? Would she take them back? He went into the house, Mingi was lying on the couch, a book in his hands and glasses sitting on his face, his eyebags and skin tone resembling his boyfriend’s, he turned to look at him, noticing how fidgety and dishevelled he looked.

“Are you okay? Did something happen at work?” He got up and approached Yunho, he grabbed his face in his hands and caressed his cheeks.

“Um…” he bit off some of the skin in his lip, not knowing how to deliver the news, his head couldn’t put the words together, not even able to process them. “Minho told me something today.”

“Ugh, that asshole. I don’t know how Jisung married that guy, he's such a nice guy and Minho is so…”

Yunho interrupted him, not able to hold it in any longer, “Minho says he knows where Y/n is staying.”

Mingi felt how the air left his body, all thoughts abandoning his mind in the same way, tears were quick to rush to his eyes, “What?”

“Yeah, he saw her and knows where she’s been staying.” He paused to order his next words, “And he said he will tell me if we manage to get our shit together.”

Mingi took him into his arms and squeezed him till he was out of breath, not being able to contain his happiness. Together they cried and smiled while the thought of everything going back to normal filled them, that was until something crossed their minds at the same time, would you even want them back?

______________________________________________________________

Tag list:

@tunaasan @scuzmunkie

[supereffectivemoonblast]

VtM - The Southern Blood Rush

Chapter 2. First Blood

Claira Windward, vampire doctor, had seen an alarmingly high number of patients pouring into Wollongong Hospital. The blood illness she'd first picked a week ago seemed to be spreading fast, and she was almost certain one or more vampire carriers were the cause.

Her coterie mates Graham Watson and Tess Barbour had seen reduced numbers at their lectures and bar respectively, so one night, they met Claira at "The Blinded Eye", Tess's secret vampire bar, to discuss what could be done.

Their best lead was a patient who said they first experienced symptoms near the Wollongong Lighthouse, so they drove over to Top Deck to scout.

Tess used her ability to melt into darkness to sneak around, and overhears a meeting between 3 vampires who discuss hitting a quota of "hits" and will be splitting up across the CBD to bite as many as they can, for one "Jason".

Claira calls the Dianas, the all woman group who looks over Crown Street, to warn them about one of the suspects who'll be nearby. Then she and her coterie head to Wollongong Train Station to stake out another, changing outfits so their quarry will less easily recognise them.

They wait around attentively, but as a train rushes by, they spot a civilian looking suddenly woozy. Claira rushes over in doctor mode, using her charm to distract the stranger while Graham taps into his water magic to replay the scene from a nearby puddle's POV. One of the earlier trio, a Nosferato, had used the trains cover to nip and run, not even bothering to feed properly.

They determine this Nosferatu rushed to the nearby multi-story carpark, and Tess and Claira rush at high speed to intercept (Graham's broken body is less agile).

The vampire starts his car and tries driving toward the exit, but Claira's knife slashes two of his tyres, causing him to smash into a wall. Knowing this will come to blows, the Nosferatu pulls out a pipe from the car, but Tess blocks his blow and slashes his throat with her serpent-like bladed tongue. The fight immediately ends, as the stranger knows he's outmatched.

Our quarry tells us this Jason is paying a group of loners to spread this "gift", assuring them a steady supply of blood. While Tess watches the captive, Graham calls the Dianas to catch them up, and Claira takes the nearby victim up the hospital.

Barely avoiding the authorities who were called as the violence began, the trio reconvene and then head to the beach near Top Deck to see if they can spot Jason. Since they handed one vampire to Dianas, and they also caught another, only one of the trio they saw at the start of the night turns up, and he is super jumpy.

He pulls out a walky-talky from the sand and tells Jason that the meeting is compromised and leaves quickly. The group are frustrated that they missed this opportunity, but Graham uses his water magic to read the sea's memory. He determines that this walky-talky was first placed there 3 weeks ago, and the water also shows him the face of who planted it there. Jason, perhaps?

[glaciertea]

Masterlist here

Tales the Songs Weave

Ch.12<< >>Ch.14

Chapter 13: Every Time I Look into Your Eyes, I See It...

Word count: 4.9K

Miguel was always in his element. Handling anomalies, keeping the other spiders from straying off a beaten path, and having everything follow on that continuous track.

His operation of guarding the multiverse was priority number one.

However, that has slipped off the radar by a notch or two.

Now it was you.

You managed to wiggle your way to the top spots, and he would turn a slight blind eye to his work. You just happened to be as important to him.

You were the undisturbed composure he didn't know he truly wanted. No matter how bad the day was going or has gone, you would be there with that gentle, patient smile. This domestic lifestyle you present and bless him with.

It still baffles him that you chose to be with him among all people. That a person who is the elation of life and a soothing paradise picked someone who is as grim and disparaging as him.

You were someone who loved him.

A sentiment he hasn't encountered in any capacity since Gabriella. He replays the moment he finally found the courage to ask you about how you drowsily revealed that you loved him.

Miguel lied on your couch, listening to the sounds of your humming and clanking from pots and utensils. His mind was floating back to that night. Those three little words clung to him, daring not to evacuate.

“You know, I've been thinking of getting a pet. Maybe a cat or a parakeet will make the place a bit more lively. Do you think you're more of a cat or bird person? Well, you strike me as a cat, but a bird could also suit you.” 

He didn't catch anything that was said; he was still stuck on that confession.

Confused, you turned your attention to him when he didn't respond.

You eventually caught on that he was in an inattentive state, and you knew that once that mindset settled within him, you could only wait until he left the realm he succumbed himself to.

Piling his plate with risotto, you tip-toed by him and slid the food on the coffee table in front. You were cautious about not wanting to disturb him when, suddenly, his hand wrapped around yours.

His claws were drawn back, and those usual heavily bagged, fatigued red-brown eyes had an extra layer of passing curiosity. You stepped over until you were in front, pulling both hands in yours and loosely lacing your fingers in his.

“Did you mean it?” Miguel curled his down, fully interlocking them together.

“Did I mean what? Getting a pet companion?”

“No, no, when you said you…”

You blinked several times, staying hushed. Miguel veered his eyes away from yours but placed them back, wanting that gentleness.

“When you said you loved me, did you mean it? Or was it sleepiness? It must have been, right? I've been telling myself that the night you uttered that phrase, I couldn't stop thinking about it. Surely it was the tiredness; it had to be! My brain is convincing me that's the reason, but another part is saying that it's not–”

Thud.

Miguel stiffened at your display of affection. You moved his hands to your hips and yours to his shoulders.

Your comforting gaze melted away his spew instantly. Your nose rubbed against his—that beautiful smile he adored being blessed with seeing.

“Yes. I meant every word, Miguel. I know it's such a strong thing to say, but I feel that bond whenever I'm around you, mi Estrella. That love, that bliss, that safety, and so much more that you give. I always wonder to myself how I got so lucky to have someone like you in my life.”

Miguel gave a tilted smile. “That's what I should be saying about you. How did I get you?”

You both share a quick laugh, dwindling it faster than it began.

“Miguel, with all my heart, you mean everything to me, and if you also allow it, I want to be with you until the end of our olden days. Even when those marigolds and lavenders have bloomed, I will want to trek onward, finding more flowers just like them with you. Maybe even growing our own.”

“I-I…” Without fail, you made him speechless.

“And I will say this, I love you so much, truly, but you don't have to say it back if you're not comfortable. It is a terrifying yet amazing thing, so I understand if you don't. But I do know that what you've shown me and continue to do is enough for me.”

You moved your forehead and replaced it with your lips, grasping onto this for as long as you possibly could before moving away.

He could only gawk. Not a single sound left him, but you didn't mind.

“I love you, mi Estrella. Don't ever forget that.” You whispered and gave one more kiss to his lips. “Now, let's eat this risotto before it gets- Miguel!”

The next thing you knew, your back was on the sofa cushions. Miguel, with no hesitation, hungrily snatched off your pants and tore your white shirt to pieces.

“I think I'm craving something else. Something sweeter, something that brings sensations in more ways than she can count, mi Luna.” His hot breath pricked shudders from your head to your toes.

That night, you learned that it was possible for a couch and wooden floors to squeak and creak when exerted with too much pressure.

That, and you had downstairs neighbors to apologize to.

A complacent grin snuck its way on Miguel as he remembered every scream and cry of his name from your pretty little lips.

Shaking his head clear from those heavenly thoughts, he trailed his mind, wondering what the other yous were like in the multiverse. Was each one as sweet and compassionate as you? Silly and full of that lively energy?

Did they love him just as much as this one did? He would check on that soon enough.

Glancing over to check the time, he realized his 'mandatory break’ (a break he rarely even acknowledged until you) was creeping up.

“I can take it now.” 

He leapt off the platform and strided towards the exit of his office, debating whether he should surprise you at work. Would you enjoy that? You've dropped hints that you fancied when he makes random visits and how it brightens up your day.

He could make the trip and back before anyone noticed.

Passing by the many caged anomalies that've been accumulated, it was distressing how many have started appearing more frequently, but he calculated it up to a new wave of spiders being made within the multiverse, especially with the new rounds of drafted ones.

Stepping fully out of his domain, he didn’t take into account how crowded it was today. He had to be creative with stealthy sneaking out, but he would make it work. Determining which route to ensue, he made a sharp left, recalling that there were back rooms located behind a sector where the cameras were scarce so that anyone with vital awareness could know their locations.

And he was the one to have that necessary information.

Avoiding all sorts of traffic and calls for his attention, he took a quick glance behind, ready to disappear into the next section, when two certain voices made their unwelcoming appearance.

“So I finished that book you wanted me to read. I did skim through towards the end because it got too intense, and that’s saying a lot.”

“The intense parts are the ones that speak the most truth and show the true nature behind it all, Gwendy. It’s good to have the requisite facts; you don’t want Big Brother to know all that goes on behind. And speak of the main man himself.”

Miguel came to a halt, an immediate scowl on his face as Hobie placed his hands in his vest pockets and Gwen folded her arms.

“What are you two doing in this area?” He hissed at them, gaining no reaction from Hobie but an eye-roll from Gwen.

“If it’s allowed to the public, then there is nothing stopping us from exploring what goes on deep in this establishment.” Hobie retorted.

“This place is off-limits.”

“Since when?” Gwen raised her brow in a quizzical manner.

“Since now.” Miguel snapped back.

"Nah, mate, being a bit dodgy with that.” The Camden punk leaned against a nearby wall, entrapping Miguel from moving forward. “Where you headed in such a rush?”

“Don’t worry about it. Don’t you two have anything important to tend to?” Miguel casually side-stepped towards the walkway, eyeing his escape.

“Aren’t you the main one to, you know, give out the tasks at hand?” Gwen blocked him as well, unknowingly making Miguel’s left eye twitch. He was fighting everything in his power from violently raving.

“Yes, but right now I’m on my break, so you can communicate with either Lyla or Jess.”

“You take breaks? Well, from how Jess complains, I think you indulge in one too many.” Gwen mumbled under her breath, making Miguel give a hostile leer at the disinterested teen.

Didn’t he resolve that issue with Jess? All the reports were caught up, and most of the anomaly tracking was redirected to him 95 percent of the time. There was no reason for her to still be dissatisfied after all that they'd caught up on. He mentally pinned it so they could discuss what could be the problem now.

“Look, go find something to keep yourself busy, or just stay out of the way.” 

“We weren't in the way. We just happened to stroll out of the same place you are going, so shouldn't it be the other way around?” Hobie probed at his ‘leader,’ gaining a balled-up fist from him.

“Hobie.” Gwen elbowed him, shooting a grave look. A warning to quit while he was ahead.

“I’m just curious why he’s attacking us for just scouting the building he enforces us to know. Ya know what I mean? If it were off limits, wouldn’t there have been a sign up to direct us away from this particular area?” He poked the lion in his absurd, pseudo-dependent den, not caring about the aftermath that could potentially follow.

“If I said it’s off limits, it’s off limits. End. Of. Discussion.” 

“Hobie, please.” Gwen’s voice increased, only to fall flat.

“Why so sudden is what gets me. Just because you think you’re the ‘big boss,’ you believe that you can switch and swindle the rules around whenever they're applicable to you. So what are you trying to hide?”

 

WHAM.

 

Gwen flinched and silently sighed out as Miguel’s curled fist slammed against one of the support beams, leaving an indent on it. His breathing was uneven as he calmed himself.

“In. Out. In. Out…”

Gwen's face creased, and Hobie was stolid, though marginally baffled at the display in front. Miguel was crossed. His dreary eyes glazed over as he removed his fist to his side, still inhaling and exhaling sporadically.

“Can we leave? Please?” Gwen nudged Hobie, making him bow his head.

“Yeah.” 

And with that, they pivoted forward into the depths of the HQ, leaving the internally exhausted, battered man to himself.

“Was that really necessary?” Gwen furtively murmured to her friend.

“Yes. There’s something going on, whether he knows it or not. Only time will tell. I’m just giving it a kickstart.”

She could only groan at her instigator of a ‘mate’ and began to swing away, with him close behind.

He couldn’t understand why they couldn't leave him alone. Why couldn’t he just do the things they do on a daily basis? Why couldn’t he leave this hellhole of a life and go to someone who wants to participate in normal activities such as listening to records from decades ago or eating cheesy pizza while watching a cheesy film?

Why is that too much to ask for? Was it too much to ask?

Not seeking to remain any longer or allow that punk to get under his skin anymore than he already has, he headed towards the secret doorway, even more primed to spend the entirety of his break with you.

You bustled back and forth, arranging new clothing and novelty goodies all over the shop. It’s been extra busy, and it’s been taking a toll on your body. 

Ever since Jax and Freya, your other two co-workers, decided to simultaneously take a week and a half off, you had to pick up the extra hours to fulfill their duties.

“I swear they are fucking on the side, because this is ridiculous! Whatever you stack up is coming right out of their paycheck.” Ronnie nearly slammed a box of fragile ornaments on the counter before you rapidly caught her. “This is what happens when you hire lazy ass part-timers!”

“Ronnie! I’m upset too, but don’t take it out on the items, please.” You removed the package from her shaky hands into your still ones.

“Ronnie nearly breaking something? Sounds on par with her.”

Whipping your heads toward the voice. Miguel waved at the two, causing you to nearly drop the box on your foot until Ronnie took it back.

“Oh haha. You think you’re so funny. Where have you been these last few days? We could use the extra hands, you fuckfa-”

“Ronnie! Go in the back and take a breather; I can handle the register for a bit.” 

You patted the counter to alert her to leave the knickknacks, which she happily followed. Without saying another word, she stomped to her office and closed the door behind.

“I have never seen her that cynical and furious.” Miguel leaned against the wooden surface, planting a kiss on your forehead. “And why are you working again today? Aren't Thursdays your off days?”

“Two other employees dipped on us at the exact same time, and it’s been crazy busy, so the stress has been catching up to both of us.”

Miguel peered into your eyes and noticed how weary and depleted you were. You only told him that work had more customers than usual, and you would leave it there. 

It did make more sense now that he had context, as you were too tired to hang out or even stay on the phone because you would randomly pass out during the middle of a sentence.

“Ay Luna mía, ¿por qué no me dijiste que te estabas agobiando así? I would’ve come by and helped you relax these past few days. That explains why you told me not to come last night.” Miguel brushed your hair with his palms, making you shake your head.

“I didn't want you worrying. You already deal with so much; I don’t want you piling on more things, especially revolving around me.”

“Oye, no, no. You deserve to be worried about. I’m not going to have mi Luna beat and tire herself down. We can only have one of us doing that.” You and Miguel snorted at that before laying your foreheads on one another.

“I don’t want you doing that either, mi Estrella.” Your thumb caressed his sharp jawline.

Miguel planted a kiss on it. “Let me treat you, mi corazón.” 

There was no hesitation in that. He peeled his shades off and set them on the table. You timidly tilted your head, holding that adorable confusion that nearly broke him. 

“Treat me? No, you have to treat you! You go through more than me.”

“I’ve already made up my mind. This Saturday night, I’m taking you on a proper date. We haven’t really had one since the garden, so let me tend to you. Allow me to spoil one of the very few things that brightens up my life and sky.”

Now it was your turn to be left speechless. “But, but, I can’t leave Ronnie by herself.”

“If you don’t say yes to that date, I will take it for you!” Ronnie pulled her dull ginger hair into a messy bun, accentuating her gray, baggy eyes and square face.

“Besides, I’m closing the shop up early to go clubbing that day anyway. You can’t be the only one with eye candy all over you. So go.” She cheekily wiggled her eyebrows; that smug grin sat too comfortably on her face.

Miguel sauntered behind the counter and carefully squished your cheeks together.

“Por favor, mi corazón, permíteme hacer esto por ti. Por esta única noche. Déjame tratar mi cautivadora y brillante Luna."

“I-I took French…” You were greatly bashful.

“Just say yes, my girl!” Ronnie smacked a bare display model.

“Si, mi Estrella.” Your voice was hushed, but enough to be heard by him.

Two more broke on the floor.

His lips found yours for a brief second, until a rubber band was launched between you two.

“¡Oye! Sé que eres mezquino, ¡pero vamos!” Miguel growled at the owner, only receiving her tongue sticking out.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. No snogging in my store! If I can’t do it, neither can you two, so break it up. So nasty!”

Ronnie and Miguel went back and forth as you rubbed your lips with a coy smile dancing across them. Your brain was in space as you gleamed upon the one you were deeply in love with. He would always surround you in the galaxy, no matter what. That you were so lucky to have him.

That you two were lucky to have each other.

You regained your bearings when Ronnie began threatening Miguel over something nonsensical. You ended up separating the two when Ronnie plucked the undraped dress-form mannequin, nearly whacking him with it, as Miguel’s feet were planted proudly, ready for the strike.

You humorously scold the two, bossing Ronnie to take her break early.

“Fine! Not because you told me too.” She gathered her windbreaker and purse from behind the register.

“And no fucking in my store!” She snapped her fingers before darting fully when she was halfway out of the building.

Appalled by that declaration, Miguel shouted, and you eyed the register, intrigued if it could knock you out in one fell swoop. 

“Ay coño, I swear she is like a more vulgar version of Peter!” Miguel grumbled and rubbed his temples in a discontented way.

“Maybe I should meet Peter. Balance each other out.”

He scoffed at that. “And have you succumbed to that faith? No way, mi Luna, you are not suffering more than you already are.”

You blew a raspberry at him and knocked your hips into his. 

“I could handle one at a time, just not in the same vicinity.” You examined the fine figures after releasing them from their boxy prison.

“Now that I’ve witnessed Ronnie’s… tumultuous tendencies and principles, I wouldn't have them in the same proximity.” You and Miguel winced simultaneously.

You bantered back and forth, Miguel periodically slipping into the back when you had to handle a customer, appreciating the hoarded collections accumulated over the decades. Though he would get an occasional distraction when a shopper would flirt or chat with him, only to struggle when they were faced with an agitated frown or an empty glare and darkly tinted sunglasses.

When confronted or questioned about that ‘daunting, behemoth of a man’ in the back, you defended him by stating he isn’t much of a people person, and he prefers to be by himself. The few shrugged it off, refusing to go deeper, but one or two jostled, nearly causing a commotion, only to scurry when Miguel spooked them away.

How thankful you were for him.

“My break is nearly up; as much as I don’t want to leave, I have to before Jess comes at me.” Miguel checked his watch and tutted in resentment. “Will you be okay, mi corazón?”

Sprawling your arms, you dangle them off the edge of the counter.

“Nothing I can’t manage. I’ve been doing this for almost four years and I have the bat, remember? And besides, Ronnie will be back soon, so yes, I will survive!” You copied along to the song blasting overhead, tossing one arm in the air, and receiving a chesty laugh from him.

“Fair. That is fair, mi corazón.” He lifted both of your hands near his lips, grazing against them. “Saturday. I will pick you up around seven, and I will use the door.”

“Oh, you’re going to use the door? This is how I know it’ll be very romantic.” You both beamed and moved into your affectionate stance. “I’m excited to know what you’ll have up your sleeves, or should I say suit?” 

Miguel stole a kiss from your lips, triggering you to mildly quake your head back and forth on his forehead, getting him to grin even harder. “Mi Estrella, I love you so dearly. You be safe, okay?”

“You know I will, mi Luna. Now, tomorrow I’ll text you the details on what to expect without going too much into detail, got it?”

“Sir, yes, sir.” You saluted, earning a grunt from the spider.

“Mm–right. Saturday at seven, I’ll talk to you soon. Te adoro, mi Luna.” 

And with a wave and a blow of a kiss, Miguel was traversing back to his wretched domain. The spot where he isn’t warmly welcomed. Only dreaded or inwardly and outwardly met with snide remarks. Harassed constantly for tediously, miniscule activities.

He already missed you.

Friday managed to approach faster than he expected, as monitors surrounded him as he requested (mostly demanded) Lyla to search for fancy restaurants or romantic spots.

“Okay, this restaurant has four stars and serves Mediterr-"

“Too low! Higher, Lyla, she deserves only the best!” Miguel distraughtly swiped one screen away to the next.

“I found over fifty places, and you turned down each and everyone! I’m done, Miguel!”

“Maybe if you found better picks, I wouldn’t have to do that.” He snarked back at the A.I. companion.

She gave a dismissive scoff and tossed the tiny screens around her in an animated trash can.

“You know what? I am done with this. Good luck, boss. You are definitely going to need it.”

“Wait, where are you going?!” Miguel drove his talons down into a screen, creating spider-web cracks in it.

“All the luck!” She finger-gunned at her creator and blipped away back into her cyberhome.

Miguel hardened for several seconds and launched the screen he was holding at another one. It was nearly midnight, and for the past hour and a half, he scrambled to locate the perfect destination for the upcoming date.

And so far, luck has refused to be on his side.

Unleashing a cultivating yell, footsteps caught the rest in his throat.

“You know, I really have to stop coming in when something is going down with you. Or maybe it’s a sign that I have to be in here when you’re distressed in a high capacity.” Peter flung himself up to Miguel and scanned the iridescent PC displays.

Various restaurants, dinner cruises, and wineries with high ratings were showcased throughout. “Ah, doing something intimate with her. That’s why your suit is all up in a bunch. When’s the date?”

“Tomorrow, and I still haven’t found the right one for her.” Miguel mumbled behind his clawed hands.

“She doesn’t strike me as one who cares for lavish things. She definitely gives off those down-to-earth vibes, that no matter where you take her, she’ll be fine with it as long as you’re together.”

“But that’s why she should only get the best. She does so much and–wait. What did you just say?” Miguel whirled his neck in Peter’s direction. He didn’t discern himself from Miguel’s wary eyes as his brown eyes continued staring ahead.

“She wouldn’t care where you brought her. You all of the spiders should know, even with or without spidey senses.” He scrolled down some, clicking random tabs.

“And how would you know that?” Miguel’s fangs bared as his claws uncomfortably sank in and out.

Peter slumped his head, wishing Mayday was here to help with this blowout. “I accidentally met her at the job she works at.”

Miguel’s jaw dropped before his face twisted in outrage. “¡¿Por qué estabas en su trabajo?! ¡¿Estás acechando a mi paraeja?!”

He shriveled at his leader's vexing response. “No, I'm not stalking your girlfriend. Every time you would bring in those boxes with the goobers, I would always catch the name on them. So, I decided to go check it out. That's how I saw her. Now here, let me help you find something.”

That didn't sway Miguel's seething mood at all, as Peter sulked back from the monitors. He then tried to deliberately pull his puppy-dog eyes on the scorching, taut red ones before him, but that changed nothing.

Without even needing to utter a single phrase, Peter took the hint.

“Fine, the full story. Look, you live in the future, and where I'm from, antique shops are common. During my break today, I moseyed on down, curious if any items we had were considered ‘ancient’ here, right?”

Miguel crossed his arms, his brow jutting up, suggesting Peter keep talking.

“And as I was there peeking, I saw her in the back labeling, and then something in my brain went off! I remembered this girl, and I couldn't figure out why.”

He knocked on the side of his head. “I had to jog my memory on why she was so familiar when, I guess, she caught me staring and asked if everything was okay. I mean, everything was okay; I told her I was just browsing; I didn't want to come off as the weird guy–”

“Get to the point, Peter!” Miguel pounded his work desk after each word.

“Hold on! I'm getting there! So, after that, she gave a thumbs-up, and that's when it came all rushing back. I recalled her picture icon from your messages! She seemed shocked at first, and we awkwardly shuffled to the front. I still don't know how we exactly ended up there, but, yadda yadda, things in-between, I dropped your name, and she caught on to who I was!”

Peter's arms were outstretched after performing a one-man show replicating the events he experienced earlier. Miguel's shoulders collapse as he is suddenly overfilled with lethargy. He pinched the bridge of his nose, Spanish trickling down faster than Peter could translate, as the fuzzy-robe-wearing spider fidgeted with a loose string.

“Ay, Peter, I pray you didn't harass her. Please tell me she had a pleasant time.”

“We did! And she loved Mayday! Also, I'm actually talked about outside of work? I knew you were secretly fond of me.” Peter lifted a leg, his eyes twinkling, and clasped his hands together.

Miguel's body twitched.

“You took May with you?”

“Sure did! And she played with her so much while we all talked. She seems to know a thing or two about kids—well, enough to keep them entertained.”

His mind raced to you cuddling May, her big smiles as you cooed and giggled with the baby. Your gentle hold, letting May look at the wonders that held so many memories as you would lightly bounce her on your hip, taking the time to give a story behind each trinket, acting it out in an engaging manner as May would squeal with delight at the cute, dramatized acting.

Then his mind meandered to his kids. That same enthusiasm you’ll share with them as you unveil the phenomenon behind the world's creations. From a plain, shiny stone to a prehistoric fossil or an old CD player to a turntable. 

The smiles and giddy glee, the exhilarating hops, and the glinting awe they'll have with his red eyes.

A string lies snapped.

He tuned Peter back in, catching whatever he was rambling on in mid-sentence.

“And that Ronnie person—she reminds me of someone. I can't put a finger on who exactly, but man, she's a rambunctious individual. The amount of times we had to catch her from letting some non-PG things slip was astounding!”

Peter flailed his hands in exaggeration before being face-to-face with Miguel's withdrawn gaze. The usual fierce, no-nonsense commander appeared as a beaten and lost puppy.

Peter's nose flared, and he snatched up one of the monitors, typing away at the screen.

“Look, Miguel, you don't need to stress over this. She will still love you no matter what, you know.”

His ears perked at that. “She told you she loves me?”

“Yes! When I said the first syllable of your name, her face lit up as if millions of fireworks went off at once! She spoke fondly of you. Saying that there was this devotion that drifted whenever your name wormed its way into the conversation, words cannot describe. It was staggering to witness that glow whenever it happened! It reminds me of when Mary and I rekindle that flame.”

His lips quivered upward, then he shoved the screen in Miguel's face. “But, enough about that. If you're so keen on impressing her somehow more than before, then take a look at that.”

An unsure stare ran across Miguel, tearing away to look at what Peter had searched for.

A jazz lounge.

A lounge complete with multiple performances from singers and musicians, a sensual and inviting aura, comfy furniture, and savory cuisines. Just an overall quintessential venue.

It was perfect.

“From what I picked up, this seems to be up her alley. Take her there. I'm sure this would be a great time for you two. So no more worrying, please. I beg you! You over-thinker.”

“Peter, I don't know how to thank you."

“Thank me by going out and having fun.”

Another snapped string.

The spider companion nudged his shoulders with his as he viewed Miguel making reservations to it.

This was going to be a night you would never forget.

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

@prozacgooble @ella-janehaven @sanguwuxyoonbummy

[sisterspooky1013]

Gaslight, Chapter 18/48

Rated X | Read it here on AO3

King of Prussia, PA

He wakes to find Diana curled up beside him, her head on his chest. A surge of relief and love swell in him, and he pulls her closer, pressing his lips to the crown of her head. She stirs, tilting her face up to his and giving him a sleepy smile. 

“Morning,” she croaks, the smell of her breath familiar, if not pleasant. 

“Good morning,” he says back.

She accepts his kiss and then burrows back into his chest as though she intends to go back to sleep. After a moment, her hand slides down his belly and she begins to play at the elastic on his boxers, bringing his morning erection back to life. 

“I was thinking,” she says carefully, “about what you said. What you’ve been saying about your life. Our life.” He waits, and she runs her thumb back and forth just under the waist of his boxers, her fingernail lighting up a path across his skin. “I know that we never planned on having children, but I understand that it’s something you’ve had some second thoughts about.”

“Okay,” he says, just so she knows he’s listening. He’s not entirely sure where this is going. Certainly not where he thinks…right?

“I’ve given it a lot of thought,” she says, her palm now sliding under the fabric, her fingers combing through his pubic hair. “And I think that…I’m willing to try.”

“Try?...” he asks in a request for clarification. This is not something he should be making assumptions on. 

She tilts her face back up to look at him. Her eyes scatter over his face, and she purses her lips slightly before whispering, “To have a baby.”

He’s shocked. Not for too entirely long, though, as she wraps him up tightly in her fist. He responds viscerally, his hands sliding up under her nightgown as he scrambles to get closer to her. He doesn’t ask for details, doesn’t question the why, or even the how given that he understands her current form of birth control to be semi-permanent. He accepts this gift at face value, so grateful for another chance. At their marriage, at fatherhood, at a life that feels worth waking up to each day. 

Maybe this is his path to starting again. 

-

He arrives at his office feeling a renewed sense of purpose, looking forward to his 10 am appointment with a new client. 

There is so much hope, so much possibility, in a new client: the chance to change a life, to help someone find the blind corner that will lead them to better days. But it had all become so rote that the significance was lost on him, just another repeat of the same old same old. He feels as though he’s seeing the world with fresh eyes, and when he hears the doorbell that signals someone is waiting in the lobby, he springs out of his chair, excited to get started. 

The man on the other side of the door looks to be in his fifties, with a crown of gray hair around his head and a generous bald spot up top. Deep lines across his forehead and at the corners of his eyes tell the story of a life well lived, though in joy or struggle he does not yet know. 

“You must be Jack,” he says, offering his hand. “I’m Jeff, come on in.”

Jack shakes his hand, a slightly perplexed look on his face. 

“Have we met before?” he asks.

“I don’t believe so,” Jeff says, ushering him inside.

The two men take seats across from one another, and Jack curiously surveys the contents of the bookshelves, as new patients often do. 

“So, what brings you in today, Jack?” Jeff asks, a clipboard with a client intake form affixed to it resting against his knee. 

“Well,” Jack says with a resigned sigh, “a midlife crisis, I suppose.”

Jeff nods, waiting for him to continue. 

“I recently got divorced, and even though we weren’t married for all that long, I guess I’m feeling…a bit lost, you might say.”

“In what respect are you feeling lost?” Jeff asks, making a quick note. “Personally, professionally?”

Jack heaves another sigh. 

“Both, I’d say.”

“Is there any background information you think might be helpful for me, perhaps regarding your marriage? You don’t need to share your life story, unless that feels relevant, but a bit of a foundation would be helpful,” Jeff prompts him. 

“Well, I used to work in law enforcement until a couple years ago. I had a case that really put me through the ringer, shook up the whole town. It was the final straw, I suppose, because I packed up and moved to Costa Rica about six months later. Quit my job, sold my house, the whole shebang.”

Jeff nods along, bouncing a pen between his thumb and forefinger. 

“That’s where I met my wife, Yvette. It was a whirlwind romance, movie stuff.” Jack pauses, a soft, reminiscent look in his eye. His expression slowly falls, memories crossing over his face like a mask. “But, uh, it didn’t work out. I just moved back to the States a month ago and I’m trying to pick up the pieces. But I guess I feel like my life is over, in a way. I’m too old for fresh starts.”

“What makes you feel that you’re too old? What did you hope or expect your life to look like at this point?” Jeff asks. 

Jack considers him for a moment. 

“Sorry for taking us off topic, Jeff, but are you sure we’ve never met?” he asks.

“Not that I’m aware of,” Jeff answers. 

“You’re not from coastal Maine, are ya?” Jack clarifies. 

“No, I grew up on Martha’s Vineyard and I’ve lived in a handful of cities in the New England area, but never Maine,” he answers. “I want to be mindful of the time, Jack, so perhaps we can get back on topic.”

“Of course, I apologize,” Jack says with a wave of his hand. “I suppose I always saw myself married and settled by now. Leaving Ammas Beach was a big life change for me, and I thought Costa Rica was it. I thought that’s where I’d spend the rest of my life. But after I split from Yvette, it was just too hard to stick around.”

“And what is it that makes marriage and ‘settling down’ feel unattainable to you now?”

“You know what, I know where I know you from,” Jack says, pointing at him. “You look just exactly like this man from the FBI I met right before I left Ammas Beach.”

“The FBI?” Jeff asks, furrowing his eyebrows. “I actually did work for the FBI, very briefly. But that was a very long time ago, in the 80’s.”

“No,” Jack says, shaking his head. “This was in ‘98. That case I told you about, the one that shook up the town? There was this FBI agent named Dana Scully that helped me out with the investigation. I met up with her and her partner shortly before leaving for Costa Rica, and he was the spittin’ image of you. His last name was Mulder, and that’s what she called him. I never did catch his first name.”

Jeff stares at him, the rush of the air conditioning roaring in his ears. Mulder. That name again. And Dana, like the woman at the coffee shop. What are the odds?

“The female agent, Dana,” he says, clearing his throat. “What did she look like?”

“Real pretty,” Jack says emphatically. “Petite, short red hair, blue eyes. She was a real pistol. She wanted to give me some wacky UFO poster, so we met up for coffee down in DC where they worked, and she brought her partner along. I swear, you could be his twin.”

Jeff gathers additional details, which Jack seems happy to supply. The agents worked out of the J. Edgar Hoover building. Dana had been traveling through Maine on vacation when she and Jack crossed paths. She had called her partner, Mulder, several times each day while they investigated a strange and unexplainable case. Something about a living doll that Jeff doesn’t bother digging into. Then their time is up, and he has to prepare for his next client. 

“I’m sorry we didn’t take full advantage of our session today, Jack. I won’t be billing your insurance for it,” he says contritely as they part ways at his office door. 

“Don’t worry about it. Do you think you know the guy then? This Mulder?”

“Uh, I’m not sure,” Jeff answers honestly. His mind is a jumble of disparate facts that he has absolutely no idea how to make sense of. 

They make another appointment for the following week, and the day marches forward even as his mind remains stuck in one place. 

-

“This is going to sound bizarre,” Jeff says, running the pad of his middle finger around the lip of his beer bottle. 

“You have my attention,” Frank says, setting his cards on the table face down. 

“So the other day I was at a coffee shop, and this woman approached me,” he begins.

“Eh! Eh! Eh! Eh!” Simon screeches, mimicking an alarm. “Danger, Jeff Spender.”

Jeff rolls his eyes and continues. 

“She thought she knew me, and she called me ‘Mulder’. She seemed really upset when I didn’t recognize her. So that was a little odd, but then today, I had a new patient appointment and he told me that I reminded him of a man he met a couple years ago, also named ‘Mulder’.”

Mike gives him a doubtful look. 

“Who the fuck is Mulder?” he asks. 

“I have no idea,” Jeff says. “I’ve never heard the name before. But here’s where it gets freaky: the new client told me that this ‘Mulder’ he met worked with a woman named Dana, which was the name of the woman who approached me at the coffee shop.”

Simon starts humming the tune to The Twilight Zone.

“There’s more,” Jeff says, and the three other men lean in, waiting. “The client said that the woman, Dana, and the man, Mulder, worked for the FBI.”

“What the fuck, man,” Mike says, clearly disturbed. “You got a doppelganger out there living an alternate life?”

“Hold on, let’s access the power of the World Wide Web,” Frank says, standing. 

They follow him to a desktop computer, then wait several minutes while he boots it up and connects to the internet. He navigates to Yahoo and readies his cursor in the search bar. 

“How do you spell Mulder?” he asks, and the men all look at each other. 

They try several variations, none of them producing helpful results. Mulder FBI. Mulder Washington DC. Moulder, Molder, Mulder. Nothing, nothing, nothing. 

“Try searching ‘Dana Scully’,” Jeff suggests. 

Frank enters ‘Dana Skully’ and hits enter. There are a handful of white page listings, but not much else. 

“Try it with a ‘c’ instead of a ‘k’,” Simon says.

More white page listings, plus a scanned copy of the commencement program for the 1990 graduating class of Stanford University.

“Try that,” Jeff says, pointing to the screen.

It’s a multi page document containing lists of names as well as degrees conferred, some accompanied by bios. Frank scrolls slowly as they all scan over the small, grainy print on the image, working through the schools of Education, Humanities, and Law. When they come to the final pages that cover the School of Medicine, Jeff sees a familiar image and clamps his hand down on Frank’s shoulder.  

Dana Scully - Doctor of Medicine - Annapolis, MD 

Beside her name is a black and white photograph, though he doesn’t need to see her red hair and blue eyes to recognize her. It’s her, the woman from the coffee shop. There isn’t a doubt in his mind. 

They try a handful of other searches. Dana Scully, MD. Dana Scully, FBI. Dana Scully, Ellicott City. Nothing comes up. 

“Do you know anything else about her?” Frank asks. 

“No,” Jeff huffs, running his hand through his hair. “Just her first name, that she lives in Ellicott City, and that she has a husband. That’s it.”

“Well, and that two years ago she worked at the FBI with your long lost twin,” Mike jokes. 

Jeff paces the room, frustration coming off him in waves. 

“What do you think it means?” Simon asks warily. 

“I don’t know!” Jeff shouts, then pauses to compose himself. “I don’t know what it means, but it obviously means something.”

He stalks out of the room, grabbing his wallet, keys, and cell phone off the dining room table. His friends follow behind, watching him with some concern. 

“You leaving?” Frank asks, though it’s obvious that he is. 

“I need to call my mom,” he says, then pulls the door closed behind him. 

Tagging @today-in-fic

[silver-rings-and-rabbits]

Open Heart 2 - Chapter 4

Blind Spot

Another long week passed before an all-hands staff meeting was called in the conference room, a full month after Ethan had told Matthew to keep the budget crisis a secret. He hadn’t been in here since his ethics hearing last year and, as he sidled up to Bryce and Jackie, he realised just how small the podium was from the back row.

“They’re running a skeleton staff to get everyone here,” Jackie grunted as they shuffled down the line to make way for yet more doctors. “Must be important.”

Matthew hummed in agreement but didn’t say anything else. He had a pretty good guess what it might be.

Indeed, Naveen stepped up to the podium and announced that, despite Governor Rivera’s glowing remarks about Edenbrook, the state budget would be eliminating most of the subsidiaries that the hospital relied on.

“That’s not good,” Bryce said, his eyes wide as nervous whispering filled the auditorium. Jackie frowned, listening hard as Naveen explained changes to insurances policies and payroll. Matthew pushed his hair back.

“As for residents, second-years will stay on their intern salaries for the time being,” Naveen spoke, and then there was outcry.

“We’re not getting our raises?! They can’t do that!” Jackie gasped.

“We have to do our part Jackie…”

She whirled on him.

“Matthew, we do our part! We work eighty hours a week to save lives and, not only do they not even pay us enough to live in the city, they wait until the last possible moment to tell us!”

Matthew couldn’t argue with that as Jackie turned to the front and shouted: “Stop trying to screw over the lowest paid people and cut the senior staff’s salaries!”

This was met with a lot of agreement noise, even some applause. Naveen waited patiently for it to die down before explaining that changes would be made amongst the senior staff as well. Matthew kept quiet, feeling suitably told off. Jackie hadn’t been wrong, and he knew that the hospital had been sitting on this for a month.

“Man,” Bryce murmured. “How long have they been sitting on this bombshell?”

“Didn’t you guys on the diagnostics team know anything?”

The two of them turned to look at him. Matthew hesitated for a split second before deciding he was no longer obligated to keep it a secret.

“I heard from Dr Ramsey nearly a month ago,” he admitted, and he watched their faces fall. “I’m so sorry you guys, Dr Ramsey told me not to say anything.”

“Of course he did,” Jackie sighed. She nodded at Matthew and Bryce patted his shoulder reassuringly. Matthew relaxed a little.

Naveen continued to field questions from concerned doctors as Matthew felt his pager vibrating in his pocket. He whispered a goodbye to his friends and quietly made his way out of the auditorium and into the hallway where the man himself stood waiting.

“Thank you, Dr Valentine,” Ethan said as they walked down the hall. “I know keeping the news to yourself for so long wasn’t easy.”

“I wouldn’t have been able to last much longer,” Matthew warned. Ethan nodded.

“The important thing is that now everyone knows and we can focus on our patients properly.”

Ethan took Matthew up to the seventh floor where the diagnostic patients room was occupied by Baz, June, and a middle-aged woman with curly grey hair. June introduced her as Evelyn De La Vega and, when Ethan and Matthew greeted her, her head turned towards them but her eyes continued to search the room. It had been a sudden onset of total vision loss.

“It happened two days ago,” Evelyn said. “I woke up and thought it was still dead of night. And if it doesn’t clear up soon, I’m going to miss my first gallery exhibition.”

“Evelyn here is a painter,” Baz explained. Matthew’s attention caught.

“I’m so sorry,” he said. “It’s an awful thing to happen but when your life’s work is all about sight…”

“Almost poetic, isn’t it?” Evelyn said, with a dry smile. “I’ll find a way, somehow. Life is all about perspective.”

Matthew prepared to start a closer eye examination when June said: “I’ve heard you’re something of an artist, Matthew.”

Matthew flushed. “Oh…well…”

“Really?” Evelyn’s eyes hovered in the direction of his voice. “What kind of art?”

Matthew ducked his head, even though Evelyn couldn’t see him. “I just like to draw,” he explained. “I used to go out and draw from nature, but these days I just refer to photos. It’s always been a small hobby though, being a doctor doesn’t leave room for much else.”

Matthew fondly remembered his art teacher and his visible disappointment when Matthew told him he was dropping art to pursue medicine, and he’d begged Matthew not to give up completely. And he hadn’t; it had always helped him unwind. He’d done a coloured sketch of a group photo last year, that had been framed and put up in their living room…and then re-drew it to replace Landry with Aurora. But now that he thought about it, he hadn’t drawn anything in a while.

“Could I perhaps see some of it when I get better, Dr Valentine? If that’s alright with you.”

“Sure.”

The examination showed a negative for the common conditions, including opacification and hypertension.

“Any pre-existing conditions not on your chart?” Ethan asked.

“I’m pretty healthy for a sixty-year-old,” Evelyn shrugged. “Leg cramps, I guess, from standing at a canvas all day long.”

“Did you have chicken pox as a kid?” Matthew asked.

“Who didn’t?”

“Hmm…could be V2V coming back after dormancy in the nerves.”

Ethan told Matthew to run a test and report back with the results. As the doctors filed out, Evelyn told Matthew she owed him a portrait when she got better.

****

Leaving the test sample in the lab for the results, Matthew paged Esme to brief her on some new cases.

“…And here’s Mr Daniels in room 403.”

Esme scanned the chart.

“Looks to me like heart failure exacerbation.”

“Agreed. Are you all set? I gotta run and put five hours in at the clinic.”

“That sounds awful,” Esme smirked as she gathered her charts. Matthew snorted.

“Laugh it up now, but it will be you next year!”

Matthew was shown into his clinic examination room where he logged onto the computer and called on his first patient: a six-year-old boy and his exhausted mother.

“Id’s stuck!” the boy announced, thickly. Whatever it was, he was proud of it.

“Will put a lego guy’s head up his nose and I can’t get the darned thing out,” his mother explained, wearily.

“What did the lego guy do to deserve this?” Matthew asked, helping Will up onto the exam bed.

“He wuntd to explore!”

“Can’t argue with that logic,” Matthew murmured, as he shone a pen light up the boys nose. The lego head wasn’t too far in. “My trusty sucker hasn’t let me down yet.”

Countless smear tests, blood tests, x-rays, eye, ear, nose and throat exams later, and Matthew’s five hours were up. He rewarded himself with a mug of coffee and as he was filling his cup, a familiar voice called out to him.

“Matthew!”

“Kyra!” Matthew almost spilled coffee as she bounded over to give him a hug. She was still bald from her chemo treatments, but her eyes were bright and her smile was as dazzling as ever. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages.”

“I hear you’re married to the job these days,” Kyra said, and Matthew winced. “But don’t sweat it, we can hang out now.”

Matthew paid for his coffee and they sat down at an empty table.

“Are you here for treatment?” Matthew asked.

“Actually…I’m here for a job interview!”

“No way!”

“Edenbrook’s looking for an administrative assistant. It’s a temp job, but I have an accounting degree and a whole load of medical bills!” She laughed nervously.

“Go for it, why not?” Matthew said. “Except…do you think you’re up to working in your condition?” He didn’t want to discourage her, but he had seen how exhausted cancer patients could get…not to mention his poor sister, lying on the sofa and barely able to lift her head sometimes. However, Kyra seemed non-plussed.

“The chemo isn’t leaving me as wrecked as it used to and my oncologist thinks it’s OK. I put her down as one of my references, actually. Listen, Matthew,” she added, when he didn’t look convinced. “I really want this job. I’m so sick of being the cancer girl.”

“No one sees you as—”

“My other friends and family do! All they talk about is how brave I am. It’s like being wrapped in cotton wool.” She rolled her eyes. “Weird how my doctor friends are the ones who can make me feel the most normal.”

“We like to help however we can,” Matthew smiled. “Though I was gonna ask how your chemo is going…”

“Bah. Same old, same old. Nauseous, puking all over the shop, mood swings, weight swings, but it turns out I look great bald.”

“You’d look great in any style.”

“Thanks. But the main thing is, the doctors think things are going well. And since they told me that, I’ve actually started picturing a future. Like, I could go back to school and do a masters. I never considered that before. But…it scares me.”

Her fingers clenched, and Matthew gently covered her hand.

“The future is scary,” he agreed. “Especially with all the turmoil you’ve faced. But I’m so proud of how far you’ve come. Just remember to take it one day at a time and it’s less overwhelming that way.”

Kyra took a deep breath and her confident smile returned.

“OK. As long as you’re hanging around, you’ve got a deal. Now if you don’t mind, I’m gonna take the first step towards the rest of my life!”

Matthew didn’t see Kyra for the rest of his shift. He felt slightly nervous as he sat in a Donahue’s booth with the gang, and jumped up when Kyra eventually walked through the door.

“Matthew told us about your interview!” Elijah said. “How was it?”

“I was so nervous that I called Doctors Philips and Wilcock Wilips and Philcock, so that was a good start,” Kyra said. “But I guilted them with the cancer thing a little, and they were kind of desperate so…they hired me!”

The group gave a big cheer, raising their glasses. Bryce bought Kyra a Shirley Temple.

“When do you start?” he asked.

“I started this afternoon actually. They wanted me moving the budget around as soon as possible.” Kyra’s smile drooped. She couldn’t hide the reality of the situation. “It’s…not great, you guys.”

There was a pause as the gang felt the weight of this statement.

“What are the worst parts?” Matthew asked, bracing himself.

“The clinic and the diagnostics team are probably the most expensive to run…”

“Hang on, the diagnostics team has a national profile!” Elijah said. “They must bring tons of patients to Edenbrook.”

“We take cases based on merit,” Matthew explained. “Patients pay what they can afford. Most of them end up pro bono.”

“Time to start praying for some billionaires to get seriously sick,” Bryce said, with a wicked grin.

“Way ahead of you.” Jackie’s grin was equally wicked and Matthew narrowed his eyes at the two of them.

“There’s some truth in that, actually…taking on more rich patients could off-set the pro-bono patients,” Kyra said, thoughtfully.

Sienna had been quiet, her chin propped on her hand, her gaze distant, but now she suddenly snapped to attention.

“Ooh! Gwyneth Monroe!”

“Who?”

Sienna grabbed her phone and showed Matthew a video of a beautiful young woman, sobbing as she explained about her mystery weight loss and how every doctor she’d seen had been unbearably dismissive.

“Why do people think that’s OK?” Matthew growled. “Doctor’s shouldn’t be dismissing anyone.”

“Agreed,” Sienna said. “But if you invite her to Edenbrook, she could probably pay a good amount. She has a huge following on social media…excuse me…” she added, around a yawn. “…and she has a make-up line, and a fashion line, and released a book last year. I think a second book is in the works too.”

“The problem is, Ethan’s adamant that the diagnostics team never invites patients. They have to come to us.”

“No offence Matthew, but I’m not sure now is the best time to be listening to Ramsey,” Jackie said. And once again, she made a valid point.

****

Back at the apartment, Matthew was researching ocular disorders when a knock at the door roused him. It turned out to be their landlord, Farley.

“Your check bounced!” Farley started as soon as Matthew had opened the door. “I swear, if this is some ‘tenants rights’ crap…” He continued ranting for a few minutes. Matthew had to shout to get his attention.

“FARLEY. My check hasn’t bounced. What are you talking about?”

Farley blinked and seemed to finally register that it was Matthew who stood in front of him.

“Yours is fine,” he said, gruffly. “It’s the other one that’s the problem. The Indian girl with all the leather.”

Farley continued to complain about bounced checks until Matthew placated him with a promise that it would be cleared soon. He closed the door on Farley and turned back to the living room. Jackie was already stood there, her eyes wet.

“Sorry about that,” she said, uncharacteristically quiet. Matthew waited a few minutes for her to speak, but she was avoiding his gaze.

“I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong,” he said, gently. She rolled her eyes.

“Stop thinking you can fix everything, Matthew. Because you can’t. This is my problem.”

She slumped down on the couch, and Matthew cautiously sat beside her.

“I’m broke, Matthew,” she eventually admitted. “I thought I could manage…I’m paying off all the tuition interest. If we got our raises I’d be OK, but now…” her sentence trailed off and she stared at the ceiling, blinking hard.

“Why didn’t you tell us?”

“What would you have done? You’re all poor too, except maybe Aurora. Not that it matters, since I won’t take anything from anyone.”

Matthew frowned, and then reached for his laptop and opened up a new search tab; there had to be some kind of side gig available. Jackie looked sceptical as they scrolled through the results, until Matthew found one that sounded promising.

“A babysitting gig in our building! Jackpot!”

“But I’ve never babysat before…”

“It’ll be a piece of cake. I’ve babysat before and I was a teenager. You just put on a movie, make them something to eat, and then the kid goes to bed.”

Jackie groaned loudly and hid her face in the sofa cushions…but her need was too high and she agreed on the grounds that Matthew would come with her, at least for the first time.

The first time ended up being that night as Jackie ended up being the last hope for two harried parents, anxious about making it to an important work dinner. They fell on Jackie and Matthew with almost too much gratitude and left warning them that Lulu was complicated, but they had the power, and all the phone numbers they could possibly need were on the fridge.

“That was weird,” Matthew muttered, as the parents left. Jackie shrugged and knocked on the door to Lulu’s bedroom, where she was lying on the floor with a colouring book. She had a sweet face when she looked up at them.

“Hi Lulu, I’m Jackie and this is—”

“Why does your face look like that?”

Neither of them expected that. Jackie steeled herself.

“Like what?” The arched eyebrow was back.

Lulu propped herself on her elbows and looked at Jackie.

“You look sad and old,” she said. “Are you sad and old?”

“No, I’m annoyed and young,” Jackie said smoothly, as Matthew looked between them nervously.

“What’s your excuse?”

Matthew jumped as Lulu turned on him.

“For what??”

“Your eyes. You’ve got bags bigger than my backpack under them. And they’re dark, like you’ve been punched in the face loads.”

Matthew spluttered as Jackie gave him a silent but very pointed look. She knew he didn’t sleep when he was upset.

“I got a really good night’s sleep last night,” he protested, weakly.

“Tell that to the cave system on your face,” Lulu said, and Jackie sniggered.

“Sorry,” she said, when Matthew glared at her. “I can’t help it. This kid talks serious smack. Alright, you little monster,” she added to Lulu. “Let’s get you some dinner before we see the hangry version of this.”

Lulu lay back down on the floor.

“Or what, you’ll yell at me?”

“No, I’ll leave you here and go back to my apartment.”

Matthew couldn’t tell if Jackie was bluffing. Maybe babysitting had been a bad idea. Genuine fear was creeping into Lulu’s eyes, though she was trying not to show it.

“You can’t do that,” she said, uncertainly. “I’m not allowed to be left alone.”

Jackie shrugged.

“Kid, the only consequences of me leaving you alone would be not having to babysit again, oh no.” She crouched down in front of Lulu to meet her at eye level. “So how far do you wanna go?”

Lulu suddenly looked awed. Most babysitters tried to be sweet, which resulted in her being treated like a toddler, but Jackie wasn’t taking any prisoners.

“OK…what’s for dinner?”

Lulu’s parents probably would have preferred if she ate something nutritious, with plenty of vegetables, but when Lulu requested mac and cheese, Matthew decided it was not a battle worth fighting and found a box of it in the cupboard. Meanwhile, Jackie entertained Lulu with talk of med school, which Lulu found endlessly fascinating. She seemed to have decided that Jackie was the coolest grown-up she knew.

“So you’ve seen a dead person?” she gasped.

“Hundreds. We used the cut them open for surgical rotation at med school.”

“Did you see their organs?”

“Yeah, that’s what surgery is. I once saw a liver that had fully rotted inside someone. It was all slimy and disgusting.”

Matthew chuckled to himself as he turned off the stove, then he had a bright idea and searched the cupboards for food colouring. He found a bottle of red with the baking supplies and added a few drops into the pan before separating the mac and cheese into three bowls.

“Come and get your hot brains!” he called. Lulu raced over to stare at the goopy pink cheese.

“I hope you picked a smart cadaver,” Jackie grinned. “I won’t be eating moron brains.”

“Don’t worry, I checked the SAT records. This cadaver’s a bona fide genius,” Matthew said, as they took their bowls over to the table.

Lulu wolfed down her mac and cheese, as the doctors continued to regale her with med school stories, and within an hour she was showered and tucked up in bed, fast asleep. Matthew and Jackie flopped onto the couch with well-deserved coffees.

“You sure you should be drinking that, Cave System?” Jackie teased, but her smile faded when Matthew didn’t react. “I’m serious, Matthew, you need to relax a bit. When was the last time you got laid?”

Matthew spluttered.

“I am most certainly not going to answer that right now!” he hissed.

“Don’t worry, Lulu’s asleep.” Jackie nudged him with her leg. “C’mon, if a nine-year-old can tell you’re not sleeping, the situation’s not great. Have you thought about just hooking up? Bryce might be up for it—”

“I’m shutting down this conversation.”

Matthew picked up a book and tried to look dignified, which would have been much easier if he weren’t reading something called ‘The Diaries of the Rainbow Princesses’.

When Lulu’s parents came home another hour later, they were absolutely thrilled with how the evening had gone. Lulu’s father pressed $500 into Jackie’s hand.

“Please, this is way too much—”

“Consider it a down payment! It’s been so long since we’ve been able to go out! Please say we can call you again?”

“Sure. I mean, I can’t guarantee what my shifts will be like, but I’m sure we can sort something out. Lulu’s actually a pretty cool kid.”

Jackie tried to give Matthew half the money on the way back downstairs, but he refused. Jackie had charmed Lulu without his help. He just wanted her to promise that she would let him know if she ever got stuck for money again.

****

The next day didn’t start so promising, with Matthew’s pitch to reach out to wealthy patients immediately getting shut down. Ethan’s refusal was on moral grounds: the team was never about money, it was always the person in need, and he wouldn’t let them stray from that philosophy. This was then followed by pages of negative test results, which meant Evelyn would unfortunately miss her first exhibition after all.

“’The Way I Saw The World’,” she explained to them. “After so many years, people are finally paying attention. And I won’t be there to see it.”

Ethan looked thoughtful as they filed out the room.

“’The Way I Saw The World’…” he mused. “I wonder if that might actually tell us something…is anyone available tonight?”

Matthew had no plans so volunteered to go to the art gallery, and Baz said he would join him. Matthew was very impressed at Baz’s vintage mini, which was apparently named ‘Helen’ as they drove to a small art gallery in the North End. The room was full of suited waiters offering cheese and wine, art connoisseurs peering intently at various canvases, and members of the public milled around, discussing the paintings they liked. Evelyn would be thrilled to hear she had a full house.

“Good turnout,” Baz said, biting a cube of cheese off a stick. “I have to admit I don’t know much about art, though my ex-girlfriend once dabbled in sculptures.”

“What kind?”

“Pottery. She got a thing about making and painting vases to sell. And she was pretty good. I’ve still got one in my apartment.”

“How long were you together?”

“Not long, to be fair. It was during our residency that we started dating, but the relationship ran it’s course. You know how it is.” Baz shrugged cheerfully. “We’re still friends though. A bunch of us met up last summer for a reunion.”

“Too bad there aren’t any sculptures here,” Matthew said, looking at a landscape of a farm. It featured a rolling hill teeming with crops, surveyed by a barn. Evelyn’s use of colours and shadows suggested she had painted at sunrise. Matthew suddenly wanted to have another go at drawing natural landscapes.

“I miss drawing,” he said to Baz. “It was such a good stress relief.”

“Was?”

“I haven’t found the time. And I’m kind of lacking inspiration these days. Cityscape gets a bit repetitive after a while.”

“Maybe you could take a weekend vacation.”

The next painting was a portrait of a fisherman; according to the placard next it, Evelyn liked to paint people of notable professions.

“We’d make a great addition to her series, don’t you think?” Baz said. He stood next to the canvas and pulled a face like the fisherman. Matthew rolled his eyes but couldn’t help smiling.

“You wouldn’t be able to keep serious for long enough. This guy seems to have a lot of frown lines.”

“He looks a bit like my old science teacher, who had a secret soft side. I bet this guy’s not so bad.”

Matthew always liked how people could interpret art in different ways, and how it had always been that way and would continue to be so.

“Were you a class clown at all, Baz?”

“No, I was a good boy! Mostly. Maybe some teachers thought I was annoying but I’d call it passionate about a subject.”

“And nothing has changed.”

“I’m pleased to hear that!”

“Where did you study?”

“I studied at Dartmouth for undergrad and postgrad, then did my residency at New York Presbyterian. Stayed there until I transferred around two years ago.”

Matthew was starting to relax and properly enjoy the gallery now. He was losing himself in Evelyn’s world, and nearly forgot he was supposed to be there for work.

And then his eyes landed on a particular painting that featured a flowing river in the foreground and rows of houses in the background. A sidewalk along the river was lit up with streetlights. And right under the streetlight was the silhouette of a dancing couple.

Sharp pain closed Matthew’s throat. His eyes burned with memories of Rafael’s grandmother’s cosy living room, a plate of brigadeiros, Rafael’s happy smile as Matthew charmed his grandmother. How he had laughed when he taught Matthew to Samba dance in the middle of the street.

Something’s on your mind, I can tell. What is it?

Matthew stormed away from the painting to the other end of the gallery. His chest ached, a bruise as fresh as the day it was punched when Rafael broke up with him. It felt like a ridiculous joke when he thought about how happy he had been this time last year. Unlike Baz, who had laid his romance to rest and continued as friends, here he was in as much pain as he’d been in three months ago.

In his desperate search for distraction, he found a painting of a lighthouse…but he stared more seriously when he realised something was missing from it.

“Are you alright? You disappeared so quickly, I thought you might be ill…what are you looking at?” Baz had found him.

“I’ve seen that lighthouse before somewhere and I’m sure something’s missing…oh!” Matthew remembered. “There were bits of old shipwreck in that bottom left corner. I remember, I saw the lighthouse last year and couldn’t figure out if the lighthouse was bad at its job or if it was why they built the thing.”

“Huh. What do you know…”

Matthew got his phone out of his pocket and started looking up the landscapes referenced in Evelyn’s paintings. The first thing that came up was the farm: a stable was missing in the same corner as the wreck.

The two of them took their time, going through the gallery and comparing the missing landscape details. The blind spot seemed to get slightly bigger on the more recent ones.

“It’s a scotoma,” Matthew finally said, as if admitting a painful truth. “A blind spot.”

“Sudden vision loss wasn’t sudden at all,” Baz said, equally pained. “It must have come on so gradually that her mind filled in the blanks. I wonder what caused…ah. She told us. Remember she said she got leg cramps from standing all day?”

Matthew thought back on the many, many medications he had learned.

“Quinine,” he said. “Quinine toxicity causing a scotoma, leading to total loss of vision.”

“It stopped being recommended about ten years ago,” Baz said. “But I suppose old habits die hard. And if she’d already been taking it for a long time, she probably had no reason to believe she should stop.”

Matthew looked sadly at a small painting that featured a blue butterfly on a yellow sunflower.

“It’s not reversible,” he said softly.

“It’s not.”

Baz laid a hand on his shoulder. It wasn’t much, but it provided just a tiny bit of comfort.

****

It broke Matthew’s heart when Evelyn heard the news. She put on a brave face and reassured them that she was prepared for this possibility, but tears had pooled in her unseeing eyes and Matthew heard her crying when they left the room.

He checked in on her at the end of his shift. She was hooked up to a hemoperfusion machine, their last hope of regaining any kind of sight.

“I’m so sorry we couldn’t do anything more for you,” he said.

“Oh, stop.” Evelyn shook her head. “I know a thing or two about failure, and you only fail when you quit. You and your team never quit.”

She held out a hand. Matthew took it.

“Dr Valentine, I know you said you don’t have much time to draw anymore, but please promise me you’ll never quit.”

“I promise,” Matthew said, squeezing her hand. “I went to your exhibition,” he added.

“Oh really? Dare I ask how it went?”

“Evelyn…people loved how you saw the world.”

Evelyn’s mouth opened and closed in surprise. Then, with happy tears this time, she smiled. “I…I’m so pleased.”

Matthew patted Evelyn’s hand as she pulled herself under control and cleared her throat.

“I actually have a present for you. My daughter – she’s been helping me – said it’s on the chair by the window.”

The chair had been placed with its back to the doorway, and when Matthew turned it back around, he found a small canvas filled with blossoming colours of beautiful deep reds and oranges, sweet yellows, calming blues, and shining flecks of gold.

“I said I owed you a portrait,” Evelyn said with a smile. “It’s how you’ve appeared to me. How your spirit appears to me. My daughter’s very patient, she picked out the colours.”

“Oh, Evelyn…it’s beautiful.” Matthew wiped his eyes.

“People always told me I was stubborn, and stubborn people find a way. Even if they’re blind as a bat.”

Matthew hugged his portrait to his chest.

“It’s like you said. You’ll get by one way or another. There’s more than one way to see.”

For once, Matthew had a smile on his face all the way home. He went straight into his room and rested the painting safely against the wall, making a note to buy a hook the first chance he got. He felt he should dig out his sketch book and find something to draw, but Aurora called him into the living room for a group meeting.

“It’s not a chore chart is it?” Elijah groaned as he rolled into the living room.

“No. But that’s a good idea,” Aurora said. Elijah’s face paled.

Aurora was trying to play it cool, but she could barely contain her smile and Matthew realised what she wanted to talk about.

“I’ve been offered the chance to transfer my residency to Mass Kenmore…and I’ve accepted.”

“Oh my god…” Sienna breathed.

“Is…is this a prank?” Elijah asked, doubtfully.

“You called that guy from the diner!” Matthew said.

“Who?”

Aurora filled the group in on the details of her quick diagnosis that day and they looked on, impressed.

“Badass!” Elijah complimented. Aurora laughed.

“Have you told your aunt yet?”

“No, I’m trying to work out how,” Aurora said. “She’s just gonna have to deal with it. Oh, and I’m not planning to move out in case you were wondering,” she added, to Sienna’s relief.

“Well, you do you,” Jackie said. “But, why Kenmore?”

“Because I need to be somewhere where I won’t just be ‘Harper Emery’s niece. Dr Carrick didn’t know who I was when he gave me his card. It’s time for me to carve a new path.”

Although it was a little sad that they wouldn’t be working together anymore, none of them could fault her for wanting a fresh start and proudly wished her luck in her new role.

Aurora’s words played on Matthew’s mind all evening, and he decided to carve his own path before he went to bed. He opened up Gwyneth Monroe’s channel and sent her a message explaining who he was, the goal of the diagnostics team and invited her to come down to Boston for a consultation.

A/N: Baz deserved more <3 Tags: @sazanes @rafasgirl23415 @ceruleansnake0

[saph-writes]

When He Sees Me - Chapter 3

ao3 link:

Words: 2375

Chapter: 1, 2

*Note, this work is now discontinued and thus this will be the final chapter. For further explanation, I did add my reasoning in the author notes of Ch. 3 on ao3.

As a kid, Rin loved ice cream. He loved them even more when Sae brought it for him.

He always knew which flavors Rin loved, his favorites, the ones they always got after they have practiced on the football field and were sweaty and exhausted. And if on a particular day Rin was craving a different flavor, Sae would've already known and gotten it for him. Almost like he was a mind reader or something.

Rin asked him that one time. Sae shrugged and said it was obvious. It was painted all over his face.

Rin would smile and look back on his ice cream.

Because the truth was, Rin didn't have a favorite. He loved any flavor Sae got him. They always tasted better than usual, sweet and light and airy and with a special underlying tinge to every single one. Like the universe knew that Sae had gotten this just for him.

Mom and Dad were always busy. So Sae would always take Rin out to walk after practice.

Their favorite spot was on top of a wall, one that overlooked a sea. At least that was how it looked like. A sea that stretched out for miles and miles. When the sun sinked into the horizon, it looked like it was going back home into the water. Its orange and yellow rays tapped the tops of the water's still laps while it waved goodbye.

As they settled down, Rin continued eating his ice cream. Sae's laid unopened beside him. He leaned back to rest both his arms out on the ground behind him, positioned so his head was tilted upwards a bit to look at the sky. Rin did the same. One hand was still in front of him though, holding his ice cream. Rin couldn't have been more than 8 years old at the time.

"Rin."

"Hm?" Rin mumbled. His mouth was still half-full. He swallowed the ice cream chunk quickly, ignoring how cold it made his throat feel. Sae continued to look at the sky. "What is it, Nii-chan?"

"...The sun's setting," Sae said.

Rin looked back. Sure enough, the sun had begun its departure. Like magic, the water opened up for it, and had begun to wait slowly and patiently for the blinding light to fall down beneath it. No matter how long the sun took, it waited and waited. Rin watched its slow descent, so slow that he could only tell it was moving by how much of it was disappearing. Both the shape and the light.

He knew that this meant they had to go home soon. Rin took another bite of his ice cream and chewed it slowly.

Occasionally, he sneaked a peak at Sae. He'd been weirdly quiet. Both while they sat and when they were walking. Sometimes Rin caught him staring off when he thought he wasn't looking. It made Rin nervous.

Sae turned his head and Rin jumped.

He stared and stared and to his surprise, Sae didn't say anything. It looked like he was thinking, contemplating about something. Sae looked back up at the clouds to think. Rin watched him closely, confused, and licked off the bits of ice cream left on his stick. A loose breeze flew by.

"Mom and Dad told me they'll be out for a while," Sae said finally.

Rin bit the ice cream stick with his teeth and hummed in reply. The stick balanced on his mouth and he struggled to make sure it didn't fall down into the water. Sae kept talking.

"So it will be just the two of us for bit."

"That's nothing new though, Nii-chan." He chewed on the stick (it said loser) and then realized. "Does that mean we'll be able to play football everyday?" His chest grew excited. Playing football with Sae was always the best. Especially without Mom and Dad cutting them off for food or sleep. They could play, sun up till sun down, until the sky turns dark and then they can play some more.

Sae nodded. Then, he turned and smiled (He rarely ever did). "All day, Rin." He looked back up.

"Let's go, it's getting late."

He was right. The sun was gone and the sky had turned into a dark dark blue, so dark Rin almost mistaken it for being pitch black. But it wasn't, because he could still see Sae clearly in the little light left. Little bits of orange bounced off of his silhouette, and Rin knew that where they were wasn't all just shadow, that maybe the sun hadn't completely deserted them. In fact, it was almost like it never left.

Rin nodded happily and threw away his stick into the water. He watched how it sank all the way to the bottom and turned around, only to find that Sae had already begun walking away. Rin rushed to catch up with him. When he did, they continued at a brisk pace. Rin licked his sticky fingers; Sae kept staring forward.

For that entire time, Sae hadn't touch his ice cream once.

~

It was pitch-black out when Rin finished his practice. And that was by the old man's command, his usual aloof and stern demeanor taking a shift, his words coming out strict and harsh.

"You're kicking the ball around all silly and your forehead looks like a vein gonna pop out. No good practicing like that. Go home."

"..it's fine... I'm gonna keep going," Rin breathed. Sweat trinkled under his chin. "Just lay the keys over there, I'll finish soon." He wasn't going to, but anything to keep the annoying old bastard from holding him up. The ball creaked in from of him and Rin kicked it violently. Shooting forward, the ball hurled into the fence. A metal screech erupted from the impact and Rin felt like screaming alongside it. If only his insides didn't hurt as much as they did.

The man clicked his tongue. "Not today, its near damn freezing. I'm leaving for the night and I ain't leaving you out here alone. Put the ball away over there at the 3rd rack today, c'mon." He turned on his heel and headed towards the door, muttering the words "you young folk and your damn stubbornness" in a low exasperated tone.

Rin huffed, both annoyed and irritated at being interrupted, but even more so at how he couldn't poke any flaws at the man's argument. How right he was.

He bit his tongue, but complied nonetheless. The ball sat by the fence, settled peacefully on the ground just a few feet away. He dragged in his feet and picked the ball up to hold it on his hip. He didn't bother putting away the soccer net. No one else would be using this area anyway.

The two exited the building. The man waved him off. "Get some rest. I'll be closed tomorrow."

Rin ignored him. He walked off into the opposite direction, to the way of the sidewalk where there were no streetlights in sight and it stayed as pitch black as everything else. The man went his own way, into a path where only just a single streetlight could be seen, so far off into the distance, one can almost overlook it. The man didn't say anything more.

As Rin walked into the dark deserted street with his shitty phone flashlight, the idea of going home grew a bitterness between his teeth. Not only was it far, but Sae would surely be up still. The bastard has a bed time he sticks by no matter what, and it was early. Rin kept walking, but tension followed each step. If a ball were in front of him of now, he would've punt it into the shadowy mist if only to calm the stiffness in his chest.

Which is why when he arrived at the intersection--just a few blocks away from their house--he went left instead.

There were streetlights, but they were few and far between, as the road ended and the concrete of the sidewalk continued into the grassy plains. Rin kept his phone in hand, but directed the light towards his feet. Cicadas hummed in the emptiness and within the silence, leaves of sprinkled bushes and trees rustled with the breeze. The cold wind made Rin bring his bag closer to his hip, and his chin down into his jacket. But still, he kept moving.

After what felt like a few minutes of walking (maybe hours), the concrete of the sidewalk came to end. It ended near the shore of vast and open waters, where the moon had been hiding to shine its light over the tops. A wall came up to border the edge with a half-hearted fence set in front of it. The landscape looked oddly familiar..

Taking careful steps, Rin dropped his bag and came up to the fence. He pressed a hand against it. Smooth yet cold it felt beneath his fingertips.

Feeling another breeze wash through, before he knew what he was doing, he was bringing one leg forward, up to step on the horizontal poles.

He hesitated, trying to remember how the movement went, but it wasn't long before his body caught up before him. He pushed all his weight to jump up and whip his other leg over the top, and settled the other leg to the floor once they both got across. He stood on the edge. On this side, up close, the sea stretched so far out.

Rin took the sight in, and sat.

For how long, he didn't know.

He sat and watched. Watched how the waters lapped and blew across the winds, watched the moon and felt it rise and fall then rise again, (though maybe it only rose once), watched as in the dark dark pits of voids all above him, a speck of white slowly appeared, then another, then another. He didn't know how much of the scene was in his head and how much of it was truly real, but every one of them he fel with his every nerve. Like it was sparking something electric in his brain. Like he was a child, experiencing the world again for the very first time.

Which is why for a brief moment, when Rin heard footsteps pass by and stop behind him, he hardly paid it any mind. He was already lost. Lost in the nostalgic sky.

It was only later that he recalled the sound and turned his head, but by then the footsteps were far far gone, and Rin came to the conclusion he'd imagined it. He turned back around and the stars were all gone.

No wonder. He'd imagined that too.

Rin sat back so more and watched the moon glimmer.

His phone buzzed. A notification, on the weather for tomorrow, a warning for freezing temperatures. Like it wasn't already cold enough. Rin glanced over it. 8:52.

Rin sat for another minute, and slowly pushed himself up. His feet were barely an inch away from the edge, something Sae would've scolded him for so many years ago. The thought prompted Rin to stick a foot out over the empty space above the waters.

He went back to jump back over the fence and grab his bag.

Not sparing it another glance, he walked away from the terrible place, letting the cold bite into the skin.

By the time he got home, it was 9:15.

Empty silence greeted him at the door.

~

It's so fucking late, Isagi cursed under his breath.

Shit, shit, shit.

When he said he'd be with a friend for the afternoon, his parents just told him to come home before dinner. Now instead of being home for dinner, he'd be lucky if he got there before they went to sleep.

Isagi picked up the pace. But no matter what the freezing cold made him shiver with every step. His wrapped jacket and scarf weren't doing much. Damn useless. It didn't help that it was incredibly dark. So instead of keeping his hands warm in his pockets, one had to be out to shine a flashlight at where he walked. He'd rather not trip on his own feet. And go home covered in mud.

Luckily, once he got to the walkway overlooking the ocean, he was able to put the light away. The moon was lying low on the horizon, shining light onto the landscape, and a few streetlights were actually present here and there. His hands tucked into his pocket.

Isagi breathed, letting out a foggy cool mist, and decided to sprint ever so carefully. Enough so that he was making distance, but slowly to not make the icy winds unbearable, or make his lungs freeze.

But just as Isagi thought of how he was going to apologize when he got home, something crossed his vision. He slowed down.

A head of short black hair, sitting behind the fence (at least, he thinks it's black), tilted upwards to look at the sky. Both of their hands were behind their back to rest against the concrete ground, and their legs were swung over wall.

Isagi ignored them at first, thinking it was just some crazy person sitting out to freeze their ass off. That was until he noticed a bag laying not too far behind the figure, in front of the fence drawn across the walkway.

It looked like Rin's.

He stopped, and glanced back over at the figure. Despite Isagi not being quiet whatsoever, the person didn't pay him any mind. In fact, they hadn't move an inch, still staring at something far away in front of them. Like they were lost in something he couldn't see.

Was that him...?

Isagi shook his head again, immediately dispelling the thought. He sprint forwards and passed the figure quickly.

It probably wasn't. That bag brand was extremely popular; it could be anyone's. And Rin's insane for training in the cold, but he's not crazy enough to be out in below-freezing temperatures. At least, he hope he wasn't.

Isagi ran around the block before realizing he went the wrong way. When he went back to that location, the person was gone. The wall where they sat stayed as silent as it was before, still overlooking the moon that had risen up and up. And right there in the sky, so small that Isagi would have to squint to see, a singular dot of light emerged, the first star of the night. Isagi noticed it as he ran into the distance. Maybe that was what the person was searching for.

The icy, cold winds blew across their empty spot.

[aneenasevla]

Devil's Food - Chapter 5

MasterList /Ayami’s Profile/Previous

Chapter 5 - Coward Mouse

The day itself had arrived. Hollis, who was apparently the acting leader there, spoke to her:

“We’ll leave the place isolated, so you can talk to him without problems.”

“Okay,” she sighed, walking into the meeting room, watching. At the time it was dismantled, the place now looked like just a large living room a few meters square with a small kotatsu-like table in the center, without the blanket underneath, and since it was summer, there was no need for a heater or brazier. A few bookcases and other decorations filled the spaces, a potted plant in one corner, and that was all.

“If you need anything, you can call us too” Hollis hands a beep to Ayami “just press that button.”

“I don't know if it's necessary, but thanks” she smiles a little, with a little bow “see you later” and she closes the door. She turns and sighs, looking at the scene with a little more zeal. There was a door on the other side where she supposed he would appear, so she decided to look for a book and distract herself while she waited. She saw several titles, but stopped when she found something that interested her. A kind of detective novel, a la sherlock. She took the book and sat down at the table, opening it and starting to read.

The story was interesting, so it wasn't a problem to wait. She was talking about several serial killer crime cases and how the detective had noticed the tiniest detail about a watch. The problem was that she read too fast, and the book was finished before it even arrived.

She looked at the time. She's been waiting there for two hours... could it be that Mr.Raian had encountered a setback? Maybe he was also so uninterested that she didn't bother showing up, at least according to his family. Of course, it's not like she's a princess or a world leader, to matter to him. She was, in more archaic terms, the daughter of a greedy merchant who tried to play with demons and paid with her daughter's life. At the very least she was perhaps a creature to be pitied, for someone said to be the "strongest of the clan". It was understandable even. Maybe, if she thought about it rationally, it was more a matter of level.

What a shame. A guy described as having such arrogance could only judge someone like that on looks and status, not what she could offer useful. A fool in that category would only have to lose.

She looked at the weather, and a light rain was falling outside.

Thunder in the distance. It would be the harbinger of a summer storm.

Ayami got up and stretched her legs, to go see the landscape through a crack in the sliding door. With the exception of the streetlights outside, no one was on the streets, and it was mostly silent. She sighed.

“I understand” Ayami said, finally going back inside “I think he doesn't want to show up…”

"Alright...", she thought, "I have other books on the shelf."

…

She stroked a lock of her long dark brown hair away from her eyes, eyes big and round and dark brown too, like a gazelle's. Her face was round, matching the rest of her body, which was made up of mostly curves, covered by a long flowy skirt and dress shirt. Her movements were simple, smooth, cautious, almost calculated even. As if they wanted to make the least but most efficient effort for something. She'd gone to the bookshelf and returned a book she'd just read, then running the short fingers of her small hand to look for and grab another two. Detective literature, eh? 

Interesting.

She sat down at the table and went back to her reading, waiting patiently and docilely for someone who would probably never come…

Pathetic. 

Fat, innocent, nerdy and pathetic. Perfect.

He heard a giggle coming from her. She flipped the pages and shook her head absently, a smile on her lips. So she was having fun, even in that situation.

Interesting.

He approached, his steps light, naturally taking care not to show any sign of shadow, walking in her blind spot. He made a very subtle signal to alert her, behind her, and no reaction came from her.

He grimaced. Too inattentive. If she was a victim, he would have killed her on at least five occasions. Or ten, if he had ever acted since he arrived. And all that time, she didn't even beep to speak with Hollis, was she really feeling safe?

Fat, innocent, nerdy, pathetic and now stupid. It was almost hilarious.

But this waiting game was already starting to get boring, so he circled the table and sat across from her, as silently as possible, resting a hand on his chin and elbow on the table, watching her. She finally seemed to notice his presence.

Hallelujah, she wasn't blind, at least.

 “Oh, so you showed up.” She immediately closes the book, placing a bookmark. Her voice was soft and delicate, contrasting with her slightly…heavy appearance. “Good Evening”

He looked at her, raising an eyebrow. And she seemed to be watching him. Very well, she may watch, because of course she had to know who her future tormentor looked like.

…

As he didn't answer, Ayami took the opportunity to observe him more. He was staring at her steadily, unblinking. The silver eyes like the other Kure, dark sclera but a neon blue glow near the pupils, framed by a chin as if sculpted by a self-taught artist - well done at least, but there was still a lot to learn - and separated by a straight nose. His hair was blond, short, cropped but half-grown, he had a scar on one side of his forehead, which made a prominent gap, almost like a triangle…or a horn.

This creature was definitely made for combat - broad shoulders and chest, the neck looking like it was made of steel cables, she could draw every single one of them there. And the rest below was hidden by clothing, but she knew there wasn't an underdeveloped muscle there. She stopped looking, more than that wouldn't be appropriate.

“You must be Kure Raian…” she turned her head a little to the side “I didn't know you were blonde. It's natural?”

He continued to stare, unblinking, saying nothing. Oh, either he was the type who didn't talk, or he was playing the silent one. Fine then. She could play that game.

“What an awkward situation, isn't it?” She supports her hands in her lap, maintaining the posture “I imagine so. I was told you weren't interested in it, and that's fine with me. I would hate to force you into such a serious thing.”

She let the sentence sink in, and continued after a few moments, "If you don't want that, I totally understand, Mr. Raian” and looked him in the eyes. Those eyes… by this point in her stay in the village, she was used to them, coming from his relatives, but…

Those eyes… they were icy, chilling. He was intimidating and knew it. She had to really make an effort to keep them in focus.

Finally he seemed to move after a few minutes. Thank God, she couldn't bear to face him like that anymore. He crossed his arms on the table. Interestingly, he closed his guard, but was still facing her bent over, intimidating but attentive. She had said something that interested him or that was consistent with his interests.

Now it was just a case of figuring out what.

According to the information she had, he was arrogant, so she tried “I mean, you must have your stuff, your life, your job, you don't have time to think about it... yet.”

He didn't change his expression, a positive sign. Next topic.

“Or at least, you didn’t want someone like me…”

Still staring at her.

“Or maybe… it's the part that they put you in this situ-?”

"I preferred when you were quiet," he finally spoke, his voice was soft, but husky. She blinked in surprise, but then smiled faintly.

“Good, you can speak… So were you bored? It would be less boring if you had answered earlier.”

He continued to stare, but this time he straightened his posture, still with his arms crossed, and closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them. Hallelujah, a blink!

“Then. Are you interested in this contract or not, Mr. Kure?” she joins her fingers, elbows on the table. “If not, then I don't think you want to waste any more time here, do you?”

“You're weird” he finally says, speaking slowly “you came here on your own, even with good will, even made friends with the village… but, just in the moment you face me, you want to give up?” a hint of a smile forms on his face “what kind of cowardly rat are you?”

Oh, there he was. The man they so often described to her.

They weren't exaggerating. Arrogant, rude and calculating, like a devil...

Lucky for her, the law firm where she worked was full of them.

“As far as I know, the only one who was throwing a tantrum, shaking at the base, was you.” She raises an eyebrow. Probably he had done it, it was stamped on his forehead “I came on my own because I knew it could go very wrong, and the more I heard about you, the more I was sure of it. So I suggested ending it, because it makes your life easier, and mine in the process.”

He opened his eyes wider, the pupils seemed to constrict. Anger contained. Bingo.

“So, Mr. Kure Raian” she insisted on saying his full name “what will it be? The cowardly rat, or the spoiled brat?”

She didn't have time to react, one second she was sitting in front of him, the next, his hand was on her neck, and her back had collided with the floor, knocking the air out of her lungs, making her gasp to keep from losing consciousness. She felt pain in the back of her head, but thanks to the padded tatami floor, not much. She opened her eyes, and saw him kneeling over her, his free hand clenched into a fist, his silver eyes staring at her blankly. Her hands went to his neck, trying in vain to get him out of there. He wasn't squeezing too hard, so she could breathe, but God, she sure as hell was pinned to the ground. She gasped, adrenaline rushing up her spine, chilling her. She heard a low growl, almost like a beast.

“You really have no idea, do you?” he says, his voice had become lower in the midst of hoarseness “You don't have the slightest idea what I can do, do you, you bitch? Did you know I could have killed you since I arrived? A neck like that, easily broken by my hand? Do you know who you're messing with?!”

She looked back at him. Calm down, he can't kill her… can he? Had this all been a plan to find a pretext to kill her? Would they be able to deceive her like that? Had all the effort not to be a bad impression had been in vain, and everyone knew?

"Wow, you're a cutie, if Raian doesn't want you, I do!"

Fusui's voice echoed in her mind. And that discrepancy with the intrusive thoughts was enough for her to regain her strength. She took a deep breath, as best she could because of his grip, and she dropped her hands, leaving them limp at her sides.

“Well… I know” she says, in the calmest voice she could manage “but… what credit do you have killing me? What will you gain from this, if not disappointment from everyone else in the clan? Just personal satisfaction. If that's enough, go ahead. Twist your hand, finish me off.”

She knew he could do this. She knew he would be delighted to do so, to hear the sound of her bones creaking and her eyes lose their life and color.

But he just stared at her, his free hand in a fist even itching, opening and closing. Then he frowned, and his brows practically buried between his eyes as he gritted his teeth, trembling, and let out a growl, opened his mouth, and the growl turned into a snarl, squeezing her neck one last time, before let go and get up for good, getting off her. He strode out of the room, slamming the sliding door shut, the paper fibers trembling.

Ayami coughed, breathing as if she had emerged from a deep dive, clutching the tatami floor as if it were a lifesaver. She was shaking badly, the adrenaline rush slowly fading, making her feel weak.

God in heaven, that was very, veeeery close.

He really, definitely wasn't called the Devil for nothing.

Next Chapter Here

[thran-duils]

Lost In Your Current (P.4)

Title: Lost In Your Current (Part Four) Summary: Fem!Reader x Dark!Tony Stark. After the snap, the team realizes that certain males were given Alpha status and certain females were assigned as Omegas, all across the galaxy, as a way to control procreation. Only Omega can give birth now. Both are marked and their DNA is tied through their marks. Tony lost Pepper and fell into depression after being rescued by Carol. Even the information that he could have happiness again could not pull him out. Until the loneliness and his new Alpha gene got to be too much. When Steve contacts him that his Omega had been found, Tony cannot resist to collect her. Words: 3,057 Warnings (for the whole fic): Dub-con, a/b/o elements, smut, forced mating, 18+ as always Warnings for this chapter: Controlling behavior

Part Three || Part Five || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

You ventured out of the closet timidly as the smell of fresh food being cooked downstairs hit your nostrils. Your stomach was rumbling loudly, and you grabbed the throw blanket off the end of the guest bed to wrap yourself up in. You were still bare and even though there was slim chance anyone would be looking through the window, you still felt better with it on.

Sitting down at the table, you watched Tony work. He had sent a glance your way when you padded in, the blanket dragging along the ground as you walked.

It was quiet as he worked, and you sat patiently.

When he put the plate in front of you, your mouth practically watered. Grabbing the fork, you thanked him as you were already bringing a forkful up to your mouth. He took his plate and sat next to you. You slowed down, embarrassed about how much food you had already put away before he even had sat down.

“I’ll get you set up on the streaming accounts so you can watch things,” he started to say. “And if you tell me what books you want, I can have them ordered and delivered here.”

“Okay,” you said quietly, in between bites. You were just going to let him talk; you did not want to ask any questions just yet. You were still feeling him out; you had only been around him for a handful of days before you had fallen into your heat. There was still much to know about his personality, what was expected of you.

He saw you were almost finished, and he picked up his pace to finish his plate with you. As soon as the two of you were finished, he picked up the plates. In the process, his hand brushed over yours and your hair stood on end. There was a fleeting smirk from him – he had done it on purpose, testing you. He was scenting you again and seeing how you would react and you just stared at him, still, waiting to see if he was going to do it again. He gestured for you to give him the fork and you had barely noticed you were still holding it. You held it out and his fingers brushed yours again and you bit at your cheeks.

Tony was proving to also be testing the boundaries with you.

Dropping the plates in the sink, he turned back to you, “You need to shower. So do I. Come.”

You got up obediently, holding the blanket still tight around you. You followed him upstairs into the master bathroom and your eyes widened at the large tub. There was a waterfall shower in the corner, complete with what looked like jets for a massage, and a detachable shower head too.

Tony called out as he went to one of the tall cabinets, “FRIDAY, run the jacuzzi.”

The water in the tub began running, startling you. What the hell was FRIDAY? You should not be surprised about the technology in this cabin though, it was Tony’s after all.

Tony came back with body gel, shampoo, and conditioner, a brand you did not recognize. He placed them besides the tub as you asked, “Who’s FRIDAY?”

“The AI system that runs the house,” he answered. “I need to program her to respond to simple commands from you. Lights on, lights off, run the shower, you know, simple.”

His hands were on you as you stood staring at the bath filling up. He pulled the blanket from you, tossing it onto the floor a bit away. With you bare again, his hands fell to your sides, and your breath quickened. His fingers were gentle as they traced over your skin, dipping as your body curved. His bare chest pressed against your back, and you barely held back a soft moan. His scent was clouding you and you were acutely aware you were slipping under its influence. You tried to move away as it became too much but he stopped you firmly.

“Omega, I told you that you need to shower.”

“T-that’s a bath,” you pointed out weakly.

“That it is. Fine, you need to bathe. Is that better, love?”

“But—”

“Quiet, Omega,” Tony cut in impatiently and you felt compelled to follow his order, despite the anxiousness he was igniting with all his touching. He meant to bathe with you. And you were still coming down from your heat. He could stoke the fire again and maybe that is what he wanted to do. Alphas you had heard were notorious for squeezing as much out of an Omega during their heats. “Get into the tub. Leave me room.”

Sinking into the water, you held yourself close as the water turned off, the tub full. Tony pulled his boxers off and followed you in, settling down behind you.

He was gentle, using his hands to rub away at your shoulders and down your chest. You felt calmed with him washing away the remnants of the last few days away from you. Alpha was taking care of you like he should. And you could not deny a good scalp massage was sorely needed, further relaxing you.

Tony pulled you in between his legs and you leaned back against his chest. His fingers trailed down your stomach and to the apex of your sex. Relaxation dissolving in a moment, you clenched tight, and he sensed your tension. He only slipped a single finger in between your folds instead of the two that had been sliding down. You mewled and he kissed softly at your ear. The one finger circling your clit.

“Knees up, precious,” he ordered. You did as he asked, and he added a second finger, delving deeper.

Your pussy was sensitive after the last few days, but his touch set you alight, and you shuddered against his touch. Tony hummed in approval, caressing at your nub. You began rocking your hips, trying to increase the contact. Tony tsked you, nipping at your ear and you let out a disappointed whine. He was working you back up and you were just focused on getting more. You wanted him inside you.

“There are gonna be rules and you just need to follow them. You get to stay here. With me. Safe. Loved.” His free hand came up to touch your stomach. “Hopefully become round sooner rather than later…”

“Alpha…” the thought of that sending you even further down the spiral.

His fingers entered you and he kissed at your cheek, vowing in a whisper, “I’ll keep you safe. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

<><><>

The front porch creaked, and you thumbed the page of your book, calm, thinking it was Tony coming back inside. But then there were a second pair of footsteps and hushed tones. You froze. There was a loud knock on the front door, and you sat up in alarm. Your book dropped to the floor as you got up quickly. Who was here? No one had come here in the weeks you had been here. And Tony had not told you anyone was coming. The hair on your arms was on end at potential danger.

Thankfully, the blinds were drawn on the living room window. You could not go up the stairs though because that was by the front door and the person – whoever they were – would most certainly see you since the door was open, letting the fresh air come through the screen. Tony was outside getting the boat prepped. He was going to take you out on the lake with him while he fished.

Another loud knock came, and you hesitated. The cabin was out in the middle of nowhere. And if someone was knocking… that was a good sign, right? If someone meant harm, they would not take the time to knock.

Tony had told you specifically to not answer the door though.

But… you were curious. You had not seen anyone else for weeks. Your bond tugged at you, jostling deep inside as you turned back towards the door, considering to ignore your Alpha’s direct order. The bond was warning you to be good. But…

<><><>

Outside the cabin, Carol peered in through the window, scanning the front room.

She shrugged, looking back at Natasha. “There’s no one inside that I can see from this window.”

“Well, he’s obviously here if the door is open and his car is here.”

“Maybe they’re upstairs…?” Carol said, hinting at the bedroom activities they were sure Tony would be engaging Y/N in if he had not already.

Natasha exhaled sharply, turning from the door, and going back towards the stairs. She spotted the boat house and also the large shop on the property. He could be in there as well. She sure as hell was not going to be entering his cabin without his permission for fear he had not mated Y/N yet. Or if he had mated her and Y/N was pregnant. Even if she was Beta, he would be threatened by her presence, especially without being invited.

Just as she stepped onto the gravel, she heard Carol behind her say, “Oh, Y/N. Hey.” Natasha stopped on a dime and whirled around on her heel. “Remember me?”

There she was behind the screen door. She looked healthy enough, like she had been eating and drinking enough. But she was timid, not opening the screen door. She still wanted that barrier between her and Carol.

Y/N must have answered Carol, but so quiet Natasha could not hear as she approached because Carol asked, “That’s good. I hope I’m not forgettable. Where’s Tony?”

<><><>

You eyed Natasha as she came back up onto the wrap around porch and looked back at Carol, answering, “In the boathouse. He was getting it ready to take it out for lunch.”

Noticing that both of them had stolen a glance at your exposed shoulder, you shifted uncomfortably. You knew they had been seeing if you had been mated. That was apparent in your tank top; there was no hiding the mark at the base of your neck.

They both acted unperturbed by it though, carrying on with pleasantries.

“Tony fishing. That’s something I wouldn’t expect to be happening,” Natasha chimed in, giving a small smile. “But times have changed.” She looked over her shoulder towards the boat house and she asked you, “Mind if we go out there to talk to him?”

She was… asking you for permission?

You shrugged in response, “Yeah, that’s okay.”

“You wanna come with us?” Carol offered. She was trying really hard to be friendly and gentle, and you appreciated it.

But you shook your head immediately, “I’m not allowed outside without Alpha.” You had already broken one of his rules by answering the door, there was no need to press your luck.

“Even on your own property?” Natasha asked before she could stop herself it seemed.

Carol gave her a vexed look, chastising her with her eyes. Natasha cleared her throat sheepishly before tossing another look to the boathouse. You knew it was silly and what she said was right. You wanted to go outside on your own, lay down in the grass. But Tony did not completely trust you on your own yet; you feared he never would, especially if you were pregnant. That would make him all the more overprotective.

“Well, looks like I won’t have to stretch my legs,” Natasha commented, and you peered between the pair of them trying to follow her gaze. “He’s coming to us.”

You could not see him, but you could sense him, the irritation rattling your bond. He was displeased and you could think of a handful of reasons why. You had hoped they would have gone to find him before he realized they were here but there were a lot of windows on the boathouse that had a clear view of the front porch.

“Tony,” Carol called out in greeting about the time you were able to see him coming up the path.

As he came up the stairs, Tony was staring you down and you sunk back into yourself.

Natasha and Carol could sense the tension and they both took a step back away from the door and subsequently away from you. The movement did not go unnoticed by him, his eyes following their shift.

“Tony, afternoon. We were just checking in to see how it was going. You know we have to,” Natasha told him calmly.

Tony’s stare was piercing you, and you averted your eyes, not wanting to challenge him with direct eye contact. “Well, it’s apparently not going without bumps. Y/N, I told you specifically to not answer the damn door!”

“I’m sorry,” you said timidly, flinching at him swearing at you.

“I don’t care if you’re sorry. You’re supposed to do what you’re told!” He snapped his fingers, pointing back behind you and ordered, “Go make lunch. Now!”

You refrained from mentioning that you had already done that, wanting to be ready whenever he came to fetch you to go out on the water. You left the door and decided you might as well make extra sandwiches for the two women to busy yourself and be hospitable.

<><><>

When Tony turned his attention back to Natasha and Carol after Y/N had retreated back into the cabin from view, he was met with a dispassionate look from Carol but Natasha on the other hand, she looked miffed.

“Can I help you with something?” Tony asked dryly.

“We’re here to check up.”

“And?”

“And… discuss something.”

Tony wagged his finger, “There’s always a catch. Well, lay it on me. And do it quick. Y/N and I are going out on the lake for lunch.”

Carol cut right to the chase, “There’s talk about either taking samples from Omega—” That already was setting Tony on edge, that was clear as day in his expression and tense body. “To try to figure out if there can be a cure given to people who should be able to have children and can’t.”

“Absolutely not,” Tony said immediately. His tone was firm.

“Or,” Carol continued ignoring his outburst. “They want to use Omegas as surrogates.”

A muscle in Tony’s jaw twitched at that, his eyes hard.

“There’s talk of it. High up in the government,” Natasha added. “Thought we would come talk to you about it.”

“For?” Tony spat. His brow pinched a split second before he gave them a belittling laugh. “Wait, did you two think I was going to agree to this? That’s what you wanted to come ‘talk to’ me about? Giving Y/N up to the government?”

“You won’t be giving her up—”

Tony cut in forcibly, “This is not even a conversation. I don’t know what two think you’re playing at.”

Natasha countered quickly, “You always were advocating for protecting Earth.”

“And it is protected. What’s not protected here?”

“Tony.”

“What? We took a stance and we got royally railed. Bent all the way over the table. I almost died in space. Did you forget that?”

“No, I didn’t for—”

“So many people died. Just… disappeared out of existence! Blink of an eye. Well, Thanos got what he wanted and he’s dead now! Earth is going on and there are no more threats from up above. Everyone’s too busy reeling with what happened themselves on their own planets to even care about trying to come here. No, we’re doing fine. I mean, maybe the US government isn’t doing fine which is no new news there. But we are fine”

Carol tried to persuade him now, “We aren’t fine. People are grieving everywhere, and people want to be able to have children again to bring some sense of happiness into their lives and they can’t. So—"

“You’re not taking her,” Tony spat defensively.

“I’m not asking to do that,” Carol said, standing her ground despite Tony’s aggressive stance and the wild look in his eyes.

“Then what is it you’re asking?” Tony asked, his tone dripping with condescension. “Cause that’s sure as hell what it sounds like.”

“I’m asking you to consider the possibility in the future—”

“And I’m telling you, not gonna happen,” Tony declared, cutting her off.

“I thought you were insufferable before,” Natasha scoffed, completely done with how quickly he had become pugnacious at the mere mention of anyone else laying a finger on Y/N.

Tony fixated his death glare on her now and sneered, “I think you’ve overstayed your welcome.”

Carol cleared her throat and said, “Fine, we’ll leave.” She almost turned but implored him once more, “Just keep that on your mind that it’s being spoken about in the government.”

“So, maybe you should do it on your own accord, Tony, before someone forces you to. Because I know how much you love being told what to do,” Natasha quipped coldly as she did begin to walk off. Carol followed her.

“Tell me. Did Cap agree to it?” Tony called out after them, taunting. Natasha and Carol both refused to answer which was answer enough and Tony let out a wry laugh. “That’s what I thought. You two are nuts.”

Natasha slammed the car door so hard, Carol was worried it was going to fall off when she tried to open it to get out. Natasha glared at Tony through the windshield. He was still standing on the porch, pacing slowly, eyes right back on her. He was making sure they were really going to leave.

Shaking her head, Carol turned the car on and said disappointed, “I thought this would be easier.”

“I didn’t. I expected to want to knock his head off his shoulders. Just like Steve. And any other Alpha we are going to talk to about it. It’s going to be futile to convince any of them to let their Omega carry another person’s child.”

“Well, let’s hope we find others that are more open. Because I don’t want this becoming a mandated thing from the government. Things will really get ugly then. I’ve read Handmaid’s Tale,” Carol sighed as she backed out of the driveway.

Tony and Natasha kept eyes on each other until Carol turned the car around and started driving back down the long driveway towards the main road.

~~~

Marvel tags: @coconutqueen21 @undecidedsworld @holl2712 @agustdowney  @biiskuitx @buttercupfangirl

[blue-pastel-cat]

Xiaobedo Fanfic Recommendation

Welcome to my personal “if you are new to xiaobedo peeps please read these” list. As said before this is my personal list so please feel free to reblog/comment/hit me for not including any gem here. I might miss a lot of them because I am drunk or blind. (mostly have them on my to read and then forgot as I am being assault by real life shit).

I would like to say first that so far there are 150+ Xiaobedo fics on Ao3. I can’t review all of them but I can say that I have read a majority of them. Most of them are just pure love and I would like nothing more than a thousands thank you for all the fic writers who spent their free time writting these gems for us to read for free. But these...these takes the cake as it finds a special landing spot in my heart that I would just thrust them into someone’s hand if they say “I am new to this ship can you recommend me?”

1. Orange dust by bobamilkteas (Wes)

In which Xiao learns to open himself up to the world a little more after the collapse of Rex lapis's contracts but it was not always easy for a soul doomed to eternal damnation. Meanwhile, Albedo liked to tempt fate where the extraordinary are concerned.

If only the traveler's comrades are made of saner bunch.

Comment: Long ago when I like both Albedo and Xiao as a character, I was wondering hmmm....will anyone actually even write about them lmao they never met each other. I am surprise to see this one as the 3rd fic in the whole 3 Xiaobedo fic on Ao3 (yeah back when there’s literally only 3 fic for this couple). I was like I’ll read it for the curiosity, I’ll probably won’t ship them. And that people is how I put my clown make up on my face upon finishing reading it. This ONE fic alone convert me into a devotee of Xiaobedo. Please consider joining me in this circus if you want to know what is Xiaobedo. I would put this as the first of my “Big 3″

Orange Dust also come with its compliation of short stories over the course of the game and a big sequel to it. Please also consider reading ALL OF THEM.

2. Solar Wind by birdpriestess (Sparrow)

For the yaksha, his duty was his life, and his life was his duty. No human could ever hope to understand the eternal war he fought out of sight and in silence.

So why, then, did he feel that Albedo would understand?

---

Finding himself at death's door once more, Xiao is saved by a surprising person, setting off the unlikeliest of adventures.

Comment: Do you like crying? Do you like the feeling of getting your heart ripped into pieces as the author destroy your emotions over the end of each chapter as the story picked up the climax? Yeah, this one is for you masochists. The action, the characterisation, the drama THE EMOTIONS OH WOW. I kid you not that it was so good I read this while workinng when I am not suppose to me. Also, this fic has my favourite characterisation of Gold ever. I love that dramatic queen Mad Alchemist. AND DAIN. I LOVE DAIN IN THIS FIC. Our dearest Sparrow manage to toy with our feelings like how I bully ruin guard for big numbers lmao. This is the secound of “Big 3″ of my Xiaobedo list.

Again, just like Orange Dust, Solar Wind comes with its own compliation of short stories of what came after that. Please also consider reading ALL OF THEM.

3. Castle of Glass by AlchemicalStardust (Morgie) 

A black shadow rises over Huaguang Stone Forest. Caught in the wrong place at the wrong time, Albedo flees the shaking ground and the crash of boulders tumbling form the sky. As the dust settles, Albedo finds a young man – an Adeptus – amidst the carnage. Despite the karmic agony ripping his body from the inside, Xiao’s only question is “How?” How did a human survive after witnessing his battle?

Comment: The last of the “Big 3″ of my Xiaobedo list. And it is still on going! Castle of Glass? More like I AM IN A GLASS CASE OF EMOTIONS! Have you read a fic about 2 people yearning, longing, reaching out for each other so damn well that you just want to throw your phone in the air as they both had their impending doom coming down upon them? Yeah this is one of them. You will like want to be stuck in the moment they express how much they just yearn for each other’s love and care that you want to shake the author for what comes next. Like...everytime Morgie update I am expressing my gratitude at the end of the chapter by writing on Xiaobedo discord “MORGIE COME HERE AND LET ME BONK YOU WHY ARE YOU ENDING IT THERE”

trust me when you read you will def feel the same. With just Big 3 and their compliation alone that would give you like a LONG list of reading already LMAOOOOOOO

4. Find a place to call it home  by yamajiroo 

Our room, he said. Xiao’s brow twitches. Zhongli never said anything about this. But then again, perhaps he should anticipate this from the beginning...

Xiao looks over at Albedo, who is now tilting his head, his look as innocent as ever.

“Are you not okay with sharing a room?”

Comment: College AU for Xiaobedo! One thing that I love this is the slow burn and what made me LOVE LOVE LOVE this fic more is how cute Klee is in this fic. Their relationship in this one is very simple, but that simplicity highlight why their chemistry work. Xiao is someone who was just very gentle, who was largely misunderstood by his lonesome nature. Albedo was someone who like peace and quite in his introvert bubble. And how they respect that bubble that each other has actually made their relationship work. I love it when fic highlight this and this one captures it.

5. I Can't See Your Face From the Other Side of the Classroom by MissWeaver  

When Albedo and Xiao unexpectedly start eating lunch together, they begin to find that they have more in common than anyone would have realized. They both struggle in their own ways with blossoming feelings, too many assignments, and annoying classmates as they navigate a relationship for the first time.

Comment: I’ll be honest, I usually hate high school au just because its so cliche. I don’t even watch and drama/anime surrounds high school student anymore LMAOOO (unless it’s very good). So if there’s an high school AU that I actually keep come back and read after a couple of chapters, it means that the cliche that I hate wasn’t there or barely was there at all. The pinning in this fic makes me want to bang their head together sometimes LMAOOO The tag wasn’t kidding when they said both Xiao and Albedo are bad at feelings. Also that’s a lot of heart broken caused by these two idiots XD

6. new world, same me, same bullshit  by  bobamilkteas (Wes)

At the belly of Dragonspine, Albedo lost control to the festering corruption that permeated his senses and watched, from the recesses of his mind, as his devoured body turned his allies into enemies. Before his rampage reached its climax, he is sealed in a crystalized confinement by the last hand of Reindottir, where he then reawakens centuries after, in a rebooted Teyvat.

Comment: Yeah I know it was list in Orange Dust but here me out. This sets out in an entirely different universe. And if you like Polyamory, this one has Zhongli joining the duo and I love it because I also love ZhongXiao with my life. Time Travel is my biggest kink. Especially when I am the person who love it when people explore Archon War era/ Alatus!Xiao. So this one hits double of my kink. Of course it is still on going and I will bully Wes whenever I can to see that new chapter. Albedo is a total fucking badass in this story and I completely agree from using him in Abyss so often. Everyone should write badass Albedo.

7. misplaced heart of mine by  inkburn           

“If you are ill, then you should be resting at home. In Mondstadt.” He emphasized Mondstadt with a pointed look in his direction.

“I assure you I won’t be troublesome, Adeptus Xiao,” Albedo said, “You’ll find I’m a rather low-maintenance traveler.”

“Travel,” Xiao scoffed, “without airstep?”

Albedo looked him up and down. “Are your legs just for decoration?”

(albedo is sent to liyue on mandatory vacation. xiao is his unfortunate bodyguard.)

Comment: Most of the time you will see Albedo and Xiao starting their relationship with one of them taking interest in another. But this one took another approach, they starting off by make them hating each other’s guts LMAOOOO and I live for every second of it. There’s only 1 chapter so far but wow it was SOOO GOOD. I am really really excited for next chapter and is waiting patiently ;w;

8.  Blossom of Grace  by birdpriestess  

One day in Liyue Harbor, Albedo watches a street performance by an enigmatic dancer named Xiao. And he becomes completely obsessed.

Comment: Have you ever look at Xiao fight and thinking that he’s one of the most beautiful deadly thing ever? How it was like he was dancing around the battlefield? How about actual dancer Xiao being so absolutely beautiful and perfect and that slow burn of Albedo falling in love with that beauty with a touch of Modern AU and cute Ganyu as the Wing woman. Yes, Sparrow delivers yet again another beautiful slow burn and while it’s still ongoing it is worth the read.

9. i think we could make this work (could get used to this) by outspaced               

“Xiao? What are you doing out here?”

“I—”

“It’s raining,” Albedo says, as if it isn’t obvious. “You could get struck by lightning.”

“What are you doing out here then?” Xiao does the only thing he knows how to do, he challenges Albedo. “It’s raining.”

Albedo just hums. “If I get struck by lightning, it’s for science.”

Comment: A short one-shot where I read the summary and went “This is it... this is their relationship.” I am sold immediately. Oh god Albedo why are you like this.

10. Ephemeral by criedprinz        

“It’s not for your investigation, is it?” Aether asked mildly.

Albedo traced a finger around the sketchbook, considering the question. “No,” he admitted finally. “I... I just want to see them again.”

He opened the sketchbook to reveal the drawing he’d just finished. Aether nodded, clearly recognizing the sharp golden eyes.

“Xiao,” he said. “You were rescued by an adeptus.”

When a visit to Dragonspine goes horribly wrong, Albedo is rescued by an unknown stranger, wielding powers he's never heard of. Led on a search to find out who it is, he finds himself in the middle of an unforgettable encounter..

Comment: A really really well written one-shot that I love. The yearning oh godddd the yearning from Albedo side is just so so much that I have to put it here. (I think you can see the trend here lmao. I am a sucker for yearning). And the moment they get to meet each other again is just chef kiss. MWHAA

11. Idle Yaksha, Brilliant Yaksha by Pit0fTheEarth

Alatus didn’t have a lot of responsibilities to keep. He spent most of his days dancing across the sky and eating away all nightmares that plagued a person’s sleep.

But one fortunate encounter led to too many unfortunate ones, taking his carefree existence and plunging it in darkness. His wings, stripped from him. His gentle touch, replaced by an unforgiving grip of destruction.

There was a lot of blood on his hands. With each passing moment, it became harder for Alatus to recall the last time someone gently held him.

Comment: This is one of the ongoing fic where I am very very much excited on the take of Naberius. And the way the author portray Xiao when he’s still the innocent Alatus is just *clench fist*. Baby ;w; Baby why do you have to lose all that innocence. Also the fic has long LONG flashback to Xiao past and his relationship with Naberius. We are unwielding more what happened to both of them and why perhaps does this have to do with Albedo.

That’s it for now, might add more later! Thank you <3

[thong-in-the-twist]

Chapter: Gwangju

//Gong Yoo (Kim Shin) x you

Summary: To atone for his sins he is forced to wander the Earth searching for her before it’s too late.

Prologue: Silla Goryeo Joseon Tamna March 1st

It's been three years since I updated this last. Exactly three years and 9 days, and I'm glad to be posting it. God it’s been so long I no longer remember how I used to format my entries. I don’t even remember my tagging system. A word of warning: modern Korean history is heavily marked with suffering and for the purposes of this story I needed "her" to go through... A lot. But there is only one chapter left, so hopefully, we won't be suffering a lot longer.

***

It was obvious to him that she was going to be reborn immediately. It worked like that for centuries, why this time it would have been different? So he started searching for her immediately, anxious. His land was crying, his people were suffering.

Forests were being cut down to fuel the new age, the industrialization age. Instead, the land was being converted into fields: rice, cereals, cotton. Colonizers were laying new roads, tarmac was flowing down the peninsula so similarly to cold mountain streams. All to fuel the new age, all to feed the great Japanese Empire.

Mines on the peninsula were running day and night, long shafts filled with exploited bodies. Names were being changed to Japanese sounding ones, men were forced to cut their hair, celibate Buddhist monks were forced to marry, kids were banned from learning Korean in schools, papers were censored, farmers forced out of their lands, his people were forced to worship Shinto, and to see the Emperor as a god.

Shamanistic rituals were even scarcer than during the reign of the Lee dynasty. People were no longer openly calling for him, but their thoughts thrown into the ether were reaching him. Pleas and begging, prayers and threats, all were filling his mind and heart. The burden was heavy. Not too heavy to carry, but it seemed harder than the sword he was carrying in his heart. It seemed heavier than the last memories of his other life, than the image of red on white stone.

She found her. Young girl in the seaside village, barely 20 kilometers north from the village where she was born as Binna, centuries ago. The village tree was still alive even if the village itself didn’t exist anymore. Kim Shin didn’t know what happened to it after he saw her sacrifice herself back then. Were it pirates, or wars, or famine that drew people out? There was no way of knowing it.

She was four when he found her. Back in Joseon she would have been found just in time, he’d have two years to convince her parents not to give her away. And then 11 years until she had to be wed. Her village was far off the beaten path. It was far from the capital and far from Japanese shores. People were hardened and down-to-earth but it was a tightly knit community. It was as safe as it could have been in that age and time.

Kim Shin spent his days under the Holy Tree, now surrounded by forest. He remembered the village square and colorful ribbons. He remembered tax collectors and their cart. He remembered Binna’s clothes and hair, and sword splitting her throat open.

Kim Shin visited her house by night. He hid in the shadows, not ready to be seen by her nor her parents. He watched her as she slept in the same room as the rest of her family. He watched her wondering what woman she would grow up to be. He hoped that he’d be able to shield her from any hardship that she was destined to face in her life.

While watching her sleep, he was reminiscing about her previous lives. Her bravery, her tenacity, her pride and her selflessness. The lives that were lived and ended for his people, the lives that were ended for him, the ones that were ended because of him.

Kim Shin was restless. He was used to waiting. He learnt to be patient after centuries of waiting and slowly working towards his goal. And yet, he was restless. Sitting by the Holy Tree he was restless and anxious. Her last life was sacrificed for the country. For this land, and for the people. And here he was waiting idly for her to grow up. She was safe.

The Holy Tree was old but strong, with new springs and bright green leaves. It was magnificent even without ribbons and paper talismans. It was safe, far off the beaten path.

Their people were not.

And yet, he was idly waiting for her to grow up and take away his burden, while sitting under the Holy Tree.

While their people were desperately begging for help.

She was safe. And he had time. He had enough time to present her the liberation of their people as a wedding gift.

And thus, Kim Shin was off once more.

*

Koreans were fighting on the peninsula, yes, but there were fighting abroad as well. Kim Shin supported the Provisional  Government of Republic of Korea in Shanghai, and aided students in Japan. When the empire invaded Manchuria, he was there fighting them off. He pleaded and negotiated with Chinese diplomats for them to move against the assailant before it was too late.

But the Central Kingdom waited too long, they were undecided way beyond what was safe. And thus, the Japanese attacked first.

The war that broke out drained the Korean peninsula even more. They were the ones to bear the brunt of feeding and supplying soldiers. And then, when Kim Shin was sure it couldn’t be worse, European war came to their lands, merging with the already raging Sino-Japanese conflict and bringing more players, more arms and more death into the equation. His people were forced into the Japanese army, forced to fight far away from their home – living and dying in China, Indonesia, Philippines.

He went where they were. It wasn’t their fight. They were farmers, artisans, teachers, workers – they weren’t warriors. He was. Kim Shin was back in the field, once more fighting for his homeland. Once more he took upon himself to be the most faithful agent of death. Immortal and determined, with unfamiliar weapon in his hand, but oh so familiar scent of blood, tears and fear clinging to him. The art of war changed through centuries but principles reminded the same.

But now it was harder to understand the purpose. It was harder to face dying foes. Every soul in his wake had hopes, and dreams, and dedication, and destiny – and yet he was invading the realm of the Divine, deciding who was to live and who was to day. What he did was to slaughter.

 But he was also fighting for his compatriots, forced to lay their lives for the occupant. He fought to save them and to bring them back to their land. He helped them escape, he cleared camps, he dealt with Japanese officers.

Japanese defeat was what they were hoping for anyway.

It was in Perek that faced his hardest encampment. It was in Perek that among Japanese officers and soldiers, and his people forced into ranks, he found others. It was in Perek that among male voices he heard female pleas.

It was in broad daylight that he marched through the camp, taking in the tents and appraising layouts and main locations. Where to get food, where to get supplies, where were the blind spots. It was in broad daylight that he heard a plea so similar to one he heard centuries ago in the Song Dynasty’s capital. So earnest and so broken plea of death.

After the first one came another, hurried and repeated like a mantra, like a prayer. And another, and another.

And another.

So familiar. So heartbreaking.

Here, so far from his homeland, he heard her begging for death. For an escape.

But she was safe. She was safe back in her village, on the shores of Eastern Seas. She was safe back in her village, so close to the Holy Tree.

And yet, it was her voice, strung thin and wavering, but unmistakably hers.

A taste of bile invaded his throat as he zeroed on a dilapidated building. Better than a shack only in the name, with dark walls and dirty windows barely containing the horrors inside. His surroundings seemed to disappear, sounds of the encampment dying out, the building his focal point.

He took his time. Waiting itself was horrible, pleas constant, it would have been so easy to just end it. End all of it, all of them, all of the oppressors, just raze the  camp to the ground. But he was afraid. Afraid of going inside and seeing that was happening, how they lived. It was easy to guess, and hard to understand. Justified rage was clawing his insides, not only for her, but for all of them. It wasn’t human to do, not that the occupant was ever human.

His fear was their prolonged suffering.

He fulfilled every one of their pleas. Every single one. Some wished for death, some wished for death for their oppressors. Some wished for health, some wished to never remember. Some wished for another chance in life, some wished for one last meeting with assailants and sharp object to meet them with. He did it all.

She wanted a knife. Sharp, and easy to conceal. She found it with glee and fervor. She wanted for her doors to be open and for night to be dark. She wished for rain, heavy and obscuring. She wished for that man to fall. To suffer. To know. To fear. To never forget.

Kim Shin watched her as she sneaked out of her room. He watched her back as she sneaked through the building, chastising himself for ever believing she was safe. It wasn’t even 15 years since he saw her last. He watched her as she found her prey. He watched her as she made sure that man would never do the same thing to another woman ever again.

His screams were muffled by a gag she made out of her sad excuse of a blanket. His blood was mixing with the falling rain, that matted her hair to her face. Her skin was ghostly, blush and looked paper-thin.

Once again he watched her as she raised her blade against herself. She was sure and focused,  and emanating finally found peace. She was quick and efficient, and he barely had time to catch her before she fell down. She was smiling when her head hit the cradle of his head and her open eyes were staring lifelessly at the rainy clouds.

Kim Shin sat there in the rain, holding her body, obvious to now quiet whimpers coming from the man laying a few steps away from him. Once more her life was filled with suffering. Was her childhood good? How did she grow up? How long was she here?

He didn’t cry – feeling like he did not deserve to. She wasn’t the only one of his people that went through this, and something was telling him that there were countless more suffering now.

*

Finding her was important, but making sure that the world she was being born into was better became urgent. Kim Shin knew he couldn’t deal with her suffering. All recent lives he witnessed ended in a tragedy. Queen trying to protect freedom, young girl fighting for it, and the one that saw it in death.

She deserved freedom, all of his people did.

And freedom came with pain, tears and even more death. Foreign powers fought over his land, influencing its growth and stagnation once again. His land was sold and divided even after its occupant lost the war. Both red and blue powers abhorred giving Koreans back their land and their freedoms, forcing their ideologies upon them.

And thus the greatest conflict shook the land once more. June 25th, the day when brother went against his brother. Three years. Three years of fights, civil war raging on the peninsula destroying what was left after 35 years of the occupation.

And even that conflict ended because outside powers decided so. Every death, every lost soul – it was all because foreigners decided to settle their differences right there on Korean soil. The wound left by the war was painful and still suppurating. Peninsula was divided into two, one nation was split and the border between them became a wall that separated families and broke people’s spirit.

He saw fourteen hundred years of conflicts and changes, and ups and downs, but the last hundred years were far the worst he had seen. For the first time in his long life he wasn’t sure how to go about finding her. If he even should. Every time he found her, he lost her just as quickly. She suffered so much.

But if he didn’t search for her, he was sure that the Divine would find another way to punish them. Like giving her knowledge of his existence and urging her to wait for him.

By now Divine schemes were somewhat readable. He’d find her where he’d least expect her – where she was supposedly the safest, yet in the biggest danger. People in the south were struggling, famine and corruption was rampant. North was getting help from other communist states and plotting expansion. And he couldn’t find her.

Just like when he found her on Tamna, she wasn’t here. She wasn’t within the borders of both Korean states. And that’s what horrified him. He looked in China, so many of his compatriots lived there. He looked in Japan among those who stayed after occupation. He searched in South East Asia among those who stayed after the second world war. He visited the United States of America, hoping to find her there. And yet, as if the Divine was shielding her from him, he couldn’t find her.

In Germany he saw the Wall. The Berlin Wall dividing one nation into two. The blue state and red state, just like his homeland, was divided. The Wall was fresh and imposing, newly built. A palpable sign of schism. A knife in a wound, cutting it more open with every breath. It wasn’t as protected as the inter-Korean border was but it served as a reminder of similarly painful division.

As Kim Shin walked by the Wall, on the western side of the border, he heard a cautious ask. Barely audible, fleeting.

The person was asking for a haircut. If he wasn’t over fourteen hundred years old, he’d dismiss it as an auditory illusion. What would be a Korean doing behind the Iron Curtain – asking for a haircut?

Kim Shin knew better. Kim Shin knew: she was there.

*

Finding his way into the USSR was easier than he thought it to be. As a citizen of the communist, neighboring nation, he was more than welcome. He travelled from Korea, surprised by the sheer numbers of Koreans on the USSR's eastern lands. But the closer he got to Europe the fewer they got. By the time he left Moscow, his head was clear and free of usual prayers. It was in Poland that he heard one more plea – a different voice, exactly the same ask.

Children. Who Kim Shin found were children. From 5 years old to 16. War orphans being cared for by people so vastly different from them.

She was among them, one of the oldest kids, happily chatting in weirdly hard language.

It took him quite long to understand why all the kids kept praying for a haircut. Their hair was neatly kept, just like their clothes, their rooms. There was something of military efficiency in the way they were being brought up, and Kim Shin understood that it was due to a few Korean supervisors that came here with kids.

Kids were cared for, but not exactly loved. That’s why they thought so fondly of getting haircuts. Hairdressers would pat and massage their heads – that was an extent of warmth they were getting.

*

She and the rest of the kids were sent back to Korea a few months later. She drowned in a river when she tried to escape back to her European orphanage for the third time. Yalu River was her undoing, just like those centuries ago cold waters of the sea took her away.

So much death. So much suffering. What for?

As the North's situation was getting worse, the South started fighting for its economy. Authoritarian governments in both Koreas were similar in goals but different in execution, and slowly their fates were changing. South Korea was coming out of poverty, just as North Korea started spiraling into it.

With newly found resources South Koreans were finally able to think and want – and what they wanted was freedom. Freedom through free choice and democracy. Assassination of general Park, southern dictator, seemed like a perfect opportunity – but before democratic movement could raise its momentum it was brutally squashed.

***

“If we all go, they won’t be able to hold him! We need to get him out!”

Every frantic sentence is met with loud approval. You weren’t surprised when they formed a new government without looking back at people. You weren’t surprised when Chun Doohwan took over KCIA while still holding his position in the Korean Army. Of course he would. Even martial law wasn’t a surprise. But a few hours ago you heard that they arrested Kim Daejung.

Kim was an oppositionist. He was fighting for democracy in your country, and what was more important he was from your region. Rumors said that he was being held on charges of instigating demonstrations.

What a bull…

You were there all because you wanted to be there, and wanted better for your country.

“They are closing the university!” The shout could be heard above the other voices. Suddenly the thirty of you fell silent. You focused on the man that shouted it. You knew his face, you might have seen him once or twice in the library.

“What…?”

“Chun declared universities to be dangerous to society!” The roar that follows is deafening. There is no more “inciting”, all of you immediately walk to the university, gathering other students while marching.

The road leading to the main entrance is long, which gives you a perfect view of army vehicles parked in front of it. Soldiers organizing were also visible, moving with purpose or watching you with caution.  Your group wasn’t big. Maybe two hundred souls. You weren’t sure what was the plan – but the goal was clear – to show that you wouldn’t take it lying down. They couldn’t take it all. Freedom, Kim Daejung, universities.

You weren’t sure who threw the first stone. It was all a blur. There was shouting, screams and orders, flying stones and falling batons. The students’ group dispersed only to form back, and to scatter once more but this time closer to the Provincial Office.

This time soldiers were wearing riot gear.

*

“You know well that I am going back out there!”

Your mother's eyes are filled with tension. The same tension pushes her lips into a thin line drawing her wrinkles out. She won’t back down, but neither will your brother and you.

“Mom, it’s what we have to do. They killed Gyeongcheol,” says Chanhwan. He is a high school senior and his goal was to get into your university.

“His poor mother,” whispers your mother as if against herself. That was something she said every time this was mentioned. Soldiers in riot gear killed Kim Gyeongcheol as he was passing by protesters. It infuriated the city and their protest was gathering momentum, but every person counted.

They needed to pay. For Gyeongcheol and for those who were killed yesterday.

What you wouldn’t tell your mother is the fact that you got guns. Yesterday you raided one of the military warehouses. It wasn’t an usual protest anymore, it was an uprising. Chanhwan told you that he heard that folks were talking about liberating Gwangju and making it into a free city. An official request for help was being drafted to be sent to the US Embassy. A country so enamored with freedom would for sure help you.

Freedom.

That’s what you longed for.

A horn outside let you know that your transport was there. Chanhwan was already out the doors, you stalled a second to grab your mother’s hand.

“Believe in us, mom. We will be back, victorious,” you said with emphasis. The world was yours to take and you wouldn’t hesitate. You run outside, not waiting for her to answer, and jump into the waiting taxi.

What an odd vehicle to be driving to a fight.

*

City was cordoned off and outside communications were cut. It didn’t scare you off. Nothing could, really.

Taxi was slowly rolling down the street, Chanhwan laying low in the driver's seat. He knew that as soon as he raised his head, he’d be dead. You knew that there were forces on the other end of the street aiming at you with their guns, hidden behind covers.

You and Chanhwan’s friend Sunwoo were slowly creeping along the car, using it as a moving shield. You could see a body that you were tasked with retrieving. You hoped the girl was alive. You all knew that not moving after being shot increased your chances of surviving if you couldn’t move on your own.

Suddenly you heard a loud bang and sounds of automatic fire.

“Run!” yelled Chanhwan and you didn’t need to be told twice. With Sunwoo you lurched forward trying to match Chanhwan’s accelerations. You kept your head low as smoke filled the street. Sunwoo was the first to reach the body.

Dead.

Boy opened back doors and together you pushed the lifeless body inside – not caring for decency you jumped inside as Sunwoo closed doors behind you. You heard him get in and Chanhwan was speeding off.

Girl’s hair smelt of flowers.

*

A helicopter was flying overhead. You’ve never would have guessed that you’d learn how to make Molotov’s cocktail. But there you were pushing a rag into a bottle. Sunwoo was in the field hospital, chances of saving his leg quite high. Which was more than could be said about many of your friends.

Casualties were high, but you weren’t ready to give up. The uprising cost the city too many lives to be so easily abandoned.

How could your government do that? You didn’t know. But you hoped for those soldiers to spend the rest of their lives knowing that they killed their own.

Chanhwan was on the other side of the street, giving you signs. You focused on him and he started slowly counting down with his fingers. As soon as you saw him countdown to zero, you threw your bottle.

There was an explosion and a sudden yell. You didn’t stay put to see the effect, you needed to escape as fast as possible. On your left you could see a group of fifteen or so students running the other way. There were fires and smoke and it could be hard to realize what was happening.

You lost your footing as you realized that Chanhwan was not running parallel to you. It seemed like eternity as you looked back to see him lying on the corner of the street. You could see his dark uniform jacket slowly dampening with even darker liquid.

It wasn’t conscious. Nor your scream, nor your leap.

The first bullet going through your arm was more surprising than painful. Second one caught your leg, tripping you down, the third one pierced through your clavicle as you fell. You saw smoke, and soldiers moving forward with riot shields, and your brother laying on the street, and an abandoned taxi. You saw another group of students running somewhere to your right.

Pavement was hot from the sun as you fell down. It didn’t hurt, or maybe it was so painful that you couldn’t feel it.

You saw a blue butterfly flying away.

***

Kim Shin forced his way into the fighting city. Through fields and through the army, he walked into the fray. No one knew. A village ten kilometers away? No one knew what was happening in the city. There were rumors, but not one could have prepared him for the riots he saw.

He saw students organizing, he saw local militias forming, he saw field hospitals being erected, he saw taxi and bus drivers using their vehicles to help the cause.

Had he done everything he could? No. Was it resignation? Maybe.

How many times had he seen her fighting? Why every time he saw her she was either suffering or leading a good fight. Why was she always selfless, and always right in the center of a turmoil ailing his nation. Just once couldn’t she be selfish and live?

Seeing her protest against authoritarian government barely half a century after she did the same against occupation filled him with unfamiliar annoyance. Rage. Why her. What did she do to be always reincarnated into such circumstances.

Was it even worth pursuing her?

Was it his atonement for not killing his king eons ago, even when she sacrificed herself. Was she destined to be laying her life for a cause while he watched her do it?

Defiance. That was what stopped him from acting. He could have gone on a rampage. Just like when he was a general, fighting with Gaya’s warriors. It wouldn’t have been hard, decimating troops. Those already stationed in the city, and those that would undoubtedly come to reinforce them.

He felt old. He was old. Looking at the fighting city he felt like it wasn’t his fight.

In the city he saw a foreigner. A foreigner with a camera. Documenting what was happening, what atrocities were committed on Gwangju’s streets.

Instead of watching her die once again he decided to protect the foreigner. To make sure that his recordings would be seen by the world.

As Kim Shin protected the foreigner, he didn’t realize that he could no longer hear prayers.

[maatryoshkaa]

young god | epilogue

chapters: | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11| 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | epilogue

word count: 4.4k

description: it’s been five years since the Miroh Heights murder cases came to a close — and five long, bittersweet years since you’d caught a glimpse of Han Jisung. Things in Miroh Heights have changed drastically since then — but when Felix sets you up on another blind date in an attempt to help you move on from the past, you realise that, once again, you’ve signed up for much more than you bargained for.

masterlist

recommended listening: stray kids - “sunshine”

epilogue.

“See ya, Miss l/n!”

You turned to wave back at the little girl who had called your name, her round eyes visibly bright from the waiting room of your clinic. Seven years old, front teeth just beginning to come in. One of her hands clutched a half-unwrapped lollipop as her mother held onto the other. 

The first time you had seen them, the child had been unwilling to speak — bullied relentlessly at school, her mother had informed you through a veil of desperate tears — but now, her laughter filled the warm air, traumas that had once been etched into a too-young face already beginning to heal and fade.

Evening sunshine warmed your cheeks the moment you stepped out of the building’s doors, a light breeze rustling the papers in your hand as you quickly tucked them into your bag. “Five years of graduate school hasn’t made you more organised,” Felix often teased you, and you would smack his shoulder in retaliation.

Five years hadn’t changed your friendship in the slightest, either—and you had to admit you were beyond grateful for that.

As always, the city around you was humming with life: evening rush hour, with people darting here and there, frantically flagging down taxis and catching their buses. Usually, on days like these, you should have been hopping into the first cab home and collapsing like a corpse as soon as you reached your apartment. But today, you remembered with a sigh, was not going to be one of those days. 

“Hey, Doctor l/n!”

You whipped your head towards the voice, a smile spreading across your tired features as you saw who it belonged to. In a slightly jaded Mini Cooper—second hand, of course, but worked just like new — Yang Jeongin waved at you from the driver’s seat.  

“I’m not a doctor, ‘innie,” you reminded him playfully as he unlocked the passenger door and let you climb in.

“Not a doctor yet,” he corrected you, grinning. “Besides, ‘child therapist’ doesn’t have as much of a ring to it.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing, and waved at another one of your patients as Jeongin started the engine. “You really didn’t have to offer to drive me, you know — the streets are a nightmare during this hour.”

“It’s not that far,” Jeongin protested, “Plus, I barely get to see you now, you’re so busy.” You didn’t have the heart to argue. The kid loved being behind the wheel so much, he made it seem like you were doing him a favour.

You watched Jeongin turn onto the main road, squeezing the car in between a van and a motorcyclist. He really had grown up over the last few years — his hair was darker now, remarkably sharp cheekbones overtaking his once-rounded cherub cheeks — but in some ways, nothing had changed at all. He still had that natural knack of brightening whatever room he stepped in — the Yang Jeongin effect, Hyunjin called it. And his heart was still too big for his own good: you remembered how he had adamantly refused to take the money Jisung kept offering him after the case had finally closed, and when Hyunjin had asked him why, Jeongin had simply replied, “After everything that’s happened, it doesn’t feel like he’s the one who owes me.”

On the other hand, Jeongin had been more than happy to take Prosecutor Kang’s compensation money instead, and had finally visited a car dealership with you and Hyunjin. 

The moment he had seen the Mini-Cooper — a beat-up thing from the 90s that you were amazed was still running — the younger boy’s eyes had lit up. “It’s just...it looks like the one our family used to have, before...the incident,” he had explained sheepishly, making you and Hyunjin exchange a look. And so, after a fiery back-and-forth between you and the salesman—not to mention a few sleepless nights at the mechanic’s — the rest was history.

The light turned green, and you spotted a photograph wobbling on the dashboard — a laughing child you recognised immediately as Jeongin. Behind him, a woman with a familiar wide smile had her arms around a man with eyes resembling a fox’s, with none of the slyness. “How’s your dad these days?”

“Mostly stays at home taking care of my mum, but he swears he wouldn’t have it any other way.” Jeongin turned his head to you excitedly, as if a thought just hit him. “She got out of bed a couple days ago, you know? The first time ever since my dad left.”

Your mouth fell open in a surprised smile, and Jeongin continued, “He’s real excited he got to teach me how to drive, too. I think he feels like he missed out on a lot of things, like...walking me home from school. Teaching me how to ride a bike. Graduation.” He shrugged. His words might have sounded sad at first, but you could see the way the lines of Jeongin’s face were more relaxed now, at peace. 

“Mind if I make a quick stop?” Jeongin asked abruptly, and you checked your watch before shaking your head lightly.

“I’m still about twenty minutes early. We’ve got plenty of time.”

He turned onto a familiar street, and you rolled down the window as Glow Cafe slowly came into view. It was just as busy as it had ever been — even the cars were stalling by the curb — but Hwang Hyunjin spotted you almost immediately, waving through the glass window. Quickly hopping out, Jeongin popped the trunk open, and you watched him haul two crates of coffee beans into the bustling cafe. The once-famed “delivery boy” of Miroh Heights only really did deliveries for Glow Cafe now, after Hyunjin had offered Jeongin a position as a barista until he graduated—and although he wasn’t the best with his hands (or his memory, for that matter), Hyunjin didn’t mind in the slightest.

“Him being here is more than enough for business. You should see the students flock in here every morning just to catch a glimpse of him.” The former barista snorted. “What’d I tell you? They’re eating him right up.”

They waved at Jeongin now as he jogged obliviously out of the cafe, Hyunjin’s laughs muted by the glass as he threw you a knowing wink. He had graduated himself, two years ago, officially inheriting the business after his grandmother had passed away. Glow Cafe had since come a long way, with Hyunjin always at the forefront of new design ideas and enthusiastically telling you about his plans to expand even more in the future.           

“Get this: ‘CEO Hwang, the most eligible bachelor of Miroh Heights,’” Felix held up his hands as if picturing a giant headline, giving his signature wolf whistle as you burst into laughter and Hyunjin kicked the blond man in the shin. “Ow!”

“How did you even get into the press with those cheesy titles?” Hyunjin  groaned.

“Not just ‘get into the press’, ‘jinnie,” you reminded him, giggling, “he’s the head journalist now!”

It was true—with his impeccable wit and seamless way with words, it came to nobody’s surprise when Felix maneuvered his way to the top of the local press in a matter of years. The head of the press still loathed him with a biting passion— “I can feel her glares all the way from her office,” Felix retorted — and rumour had it that the two seemed to fire shots at each other all day long. The image of a powder-faced, middle-aged woman bickering with your notoriously insufferable best friend made you laugh, but you also knew deep down that Felix always took his job more seriously than he let on. His eloquent articles had gotten his name out across the city in no time,  and so you took comfort in knowing that — no matter how hard the head of the press bared her teeth—nobody could touch Lee Felix now. 

Five years, you thought to yourself wistfully, eyes catching a familiar detective’s office as Jeongin drove past. What a trip down memory lane. You’d seldom come by this part of town since then, and seeing the familiar buildings sent a flood of memories and mixed feelings stirring in your chest. 

The well-loved Detective Bang, much to the disappointment of adoring students and professors alike, had moved abroad to a bigger city—whether he had been taken by a new precinct, or a new big case, you couldn’t be sure. “Rumour has it he’s doing undercover work now,” Seungmin had mentioned to you once in passing, “We haven’t heard from him in a while, but he’s making a big name for himself out there, that’s for sure.”

The District Nine police station whizzed by you in a blur, and more of the prosecutor’s words rang through your head.

“Meanwhile, the chief of police keeps insisting he’s glad to be rid of him, but we all know he secretly misses Chan.” Seungmin had shaken his head, and you had smiled at the image of the stoic police captain—chief, now—grudgingly sulking over the loss of his best friend.   

Jeongin made one last turn, and the narrow buildings opened up into the heart of Miroh Heights—the oldest part of town, where the roller rink, record shop, and the diner were. The sight of Mia’s Diner made you sink down instinctively in the passenger seat, and you couldn’t keep the raw dread out of your voice as you let out a long sigh. 

Jeongin gave you sympathetic look. “For someone who’s going on a blind date, you don’t sound too happy.”

“That’s because I’m not, Jeongin. I don’t even know why Felix keeps insisting on these. The last time I agreed to one was—” you broke off before you could finish what you were saying, the unspoken words echoing in your mind. The last time I agreed to one was when I met Jisung.

That’s right—the last official blind date you had been on, you had met Han Jisung — and he had turned your entire world upside down. For years afterwards, you had told yourself that you wouldn’t take that day back for the entire world, but now...now, you weren’t so sure.

After all, how could you be sure of someone you hadn’t heard from in over five years?

The rehabilitation centre didn’t allow letters in or out— you had learned that the hard way after your first letters had been sent directly back to your doorstep. Usually, they had told you, if things went well, patients could start correspondence again after a year or so—but you had gotten absolutely nothing. Not a single word. 

Five years—he should have been out by now. He could have been anywhere, doing anything—but he certainly hadn’t remembered to write or even call you. 

Had he really forgotten about you?

“Five years is a long time, y/n,” Felix told you gently, after you had adamantly refused the blind date he kept insisting on. “People...change, and maybe he’s—moved on.”

Moved on. 

You didn’t know how to tell Felix how much the thought of that hurt more than you were willing to admit, how this was the sole reason why you hadn’t been able to go on a single date for the past five years. You didn’t know how to tell him that Jisung hadn’t left your mind since the moment he had disappeared from your sight, five years ago, in the corridor of that courthouse. 

“I’ll be waiting,” Jisung had said.  And yet he was nowhere to be found. Meanwhile, Felix wasn’t taking no for an answer.

“You’re in your mid-twenties now, y/n. Loosen up a little, yeah? You’re allowed to go on dates, for goodness’ sake.”

“I’m hopeless, ‘lix. I’m pretty sure the stray dog on the street has a more interesting love life than me.”

“Maybe,” Felix mused, “I think I saw it running around with a litter of puppies the other da—ow!”

“You okay? You look kind of sick,” Jeongin remarked, pulling you out of your thoughts. “Got everything you need?”

You resisted the urge to laugh. If only Jeongin knew how you had prepared for this date—by mapping out all the ways you were going to end it as quickly as possible. Faking food poisoning? Check. Arrange a time for a friend to call you and pretend an emergency came up? Check— although Hyunjin had had a strange glint in his eyes when he had agreed to it. Worst comes to worst? Pepper spray, check. You let out a slow exhale. “Sure. All set.”

You thanked Jeongin with a hug and hopped out of the car. Just as you began walking towards the diner, you heard him call out behind you.

“Oh, yeah, Felix told me pass on a message — from him to you.” You turned back, and Jeongin gave a boyish grin that was half apologetic, half laughing. “‘Go get ‘em, tiger!’”

You gave an exasperated cry and yanked open the diner door.

━━━━━━━━

You were beginning to wonder if you’d been stood up.

Mia’s Diner was usually busy, bustling with students and townspeople alike, and tonight it truly was: booths packed with couples both old and new, laughter and the smell of food wafting through the warm air as friends and families celebrated the start of summer. The jukebox was on and playing an old disco song you liked but didn’t know the name of, the checkered floor tiles clicking with the sounds of brisk waitresses’ heels and dancing feet.

You didn’t know why Felix had insisted on coming here, of all places, what with the mixed emotions and memories you had tied to it, but you had to admit that the jovial atmosphere of Mia’s Diner on a Friday night never really disappointed. You found yourself relaxing slightly—just slightly, bobbing your head lightly to the music.

“Mia’s Diner?” You repeated incredulously. “Seriously, Felix, do you only know one date location? For the so-called ‘Matchmaker of Miroh Heights’, you’re sure lacking in the variety department.”

“Easy, tiger. Just trust me on this one, okay? You’re gonna owe me one.”

“I’m not—” you began indignantly, but Felix continued.

“Plus, the poor guy in question hasn’t been on a date in years, either. You both need this.”

“Years? Are you setting me up with a hermit?” 

“Oh, yeah. A big-time loser, seriously— but don’t tell him I said that. Just — indulge him a bit, okay, y/n? I promise you won’t regret it.”

And so, for the second time, Felix’s schemes and pleading puppy eyes had gotten you here—sitting at an empty booth, waiting for a blind date. He hadn’t even bothered to show you a picture of the man in question. You couldn’t help the smile from slowly slipping from your face as each minute passed, and you nibbled your lip anxiously.

Your date was thirty minutes late.

You peered out the window, at the lights of the town glowing a faint neon  against the clear evening skies. Each time a car filled in a parking space, you sat up, craning your neck to see if it was him—before slumping back down in disappointment. Five years, you thought to yourself glumly. Five years, and you still had no luck with dates. Maybe you just had no luck with love, you thought dryly. You imagined Felix laughing later when you told him about it and sighed, a twinge of worry replacing the dread in your gut.

Had something gone wrong?

After turning the waitress away for the eighth time, you fished out your phone from your pocket, tapping on the foreign number Felix had given you. Zero new messages, zero missed calls. At least I can tell Felix I tried, you thought glumly. Maybe I should just call Jeongin again, and ask him to pick me up. And then you could drop by Glow Cafe for a bit, before trudging back to your apartment like a fallen soldier.

Just as you were punching in Jeongin’s name, feeling a sense of guilty relief wash over you, you vaguely registered the diner door swinging open beneath the lively music, and a pair of footsteps trying to shuffle past the dancing couples.

For a split second, you thought you saw a pair of tattered black Converse—laces untied, soles worn—but the mirage disappeared, and was replaced by a pair of dress shoes that eventually came to a stop at your booth. You sighed, fighting back the tears that had suddenly threatened to well in your eyes. Shit. This is not the time to be thinking about him. Why were you still thinking about him? And why on earth had you agreed to this? 

You lifted your gaze, trying to muster up a smile, hoping your disappointment didn’t show on your face— 

And immediately froze.

“Hello.”

Standing before you, looking almost like an apparition — a golden silhouette against the backdrop of the dim diner — was Han Jisung.

You had to blink several times to realise you weren’t hallucinating again. He looked...different, and yet in some ways, he looked entirely the same: his hair was shorter, but tousled as it had always been, cheeks flushed and breathless as if—as if he’d been running through a storm.

You felt your body moving before any intelligible thoughts could form in your head, pulling you forwards like a magnet until you were standing face-to-face, your shaky eyes darting across his features, not daring to believe what you were seeing.

All of a sudden, the glint in Hyunjin and Jeongin’s eyes made sense, Felix’s words replaying in your head as overwhelmed tears began welling in your eyes without warning.

“The poor guy in question hasn’t been on a date in years, either.”

“A big-time loser, seriously — but don’t tell him I said that. Just — indulge him a bit, okay, y/n? I promise you won’t regret it.”  

“Y-you—are such a dork,” you stammered out, one hand weakly hitting Jisung’s chest as you felt the tears finally spill down your face. “Han Jisung, you are such a d—” 

Your words were cut off when Jisung pulled you into his arms, his head falling to rest in the crook of your neck. Your shoulders shook with muffled sobs as you buried your face in his chest, memorising everything about this feeling, not wanting to take a single second for granted, memorising everything about him. Jisung no longer carried with him that scent of gasoline and fire — instead, he smelled faintly of lemongrass, and a hint of warm, fresh laundry.

“I missed you,” you finally whispered hoarsely, “I just—missed you, so much.”

He chuckled in your ear, the low, familiar hum stirring faint, faraway memories in your head, and you gripped onto his shirt harder, as if he would disappear completely if you didn’t hold on tight enough.

Jisung had found you in the crowded diner before you had seen him — just like the first time he had met you. And just like the first time, he had felt his breath hitch in his throat, hands hesitating on the door, wondering if he should turn back instead. He had watched you bob your head gently to the music, a small, tentative smile on your face.

You looked good — no, amazing. Different, and yet entirely the same. Kind, worried eyes catching him completely off guard, like the flash of a camera.

Just as bright.

Just as brilliant.

The truth was, there hadn’t been a single day where he hadn’t thought of you — of your voice, your touch, your laugh. Jisung had asked Felix for help the moment he had gotten released, but what he hadn’t forseen was your reaction.

“She won’t go on a blind date, mate,” Felix had informed him exasperatedly, “Took weeks of convincing. Good news, though — she finally caved. You sneaky, hopeless romantic bastard.”

She might have forgotten me, Jisung had thought. And even if you hadn’t, you might not even welcome the sight of him—after all, he hadn’t been in touch since he had left, all those years ago. But in the end, the inexplicable pull in his chest had grown unbearable, and he found himself walking towards you, wading through the crowd, feeling the ache in his heart softening with each step he took. All the way back to you.

You pulled away slowly, vision blurry as Jisung lifted a hand to cup your face, never taking eyes off yours. He had grown in the time you had been apart—he was taller, his once-lean frame stronger—and, most of all, there was a light in his eyes that hadn’t been there before.

“Hey, pretty girl,” he murmured softly, and you laughed in disbelief, “I think you’re my blind date.” 

“How—w-why—”

“I told you I wanted to do this all over again, didn’t I? And I promised that I would try to do it right this time.” Jisung smiled apologetically, wiping your tear stained cheeks with his thumb. “I’m sorry it took so long.”

You shook your head, eyes widening when you saw what he had been carefully clutching in his other hand: a small bouquet of sunflowers, their golden yellow petals as tousled as Jisung’s own blond locks. 

“Apparently they symbolise new beginnings,” Jisung said, pulling a stray petal from your hair and chuckling, “Keeping promises. Eternal happiness. That kind of thing.”

“Why didn’t you write?” You whispered, as Jisung tucked the bouquet into your hands. 

“I wanted to...to heal. In every sense of the word. I didn’t want to show you, until I...knew I was really better. Believe me, I wanted to.” Jisung’s voice dropped to a whisper, as if he were fighting back tears. “I wanted to, so, so badly.”

You shook your head, mumbling something about how much of a stubborn idiot he was, and Jisung’s laugh made a hesitant smile tug at your lips. As if sensing the lightening atmosphere, the waitress had promptly appeared behind Jisung and meekly cleared her throat, setting down the menu. Jisung turned back to look at you, his grin growing playful.

“I hope you’re hungry?”

The diner seemed to come back to you all at once in a flood of senses, the music and murmur of restaurant goers sending a pleasant hum through your veins as you and Jisung sat down. The night went by in a warm blur, Jisung telling you about his life at the institute, the unlikely friends he had made, the dreams he hadn’t realised he had. 

“I’m going to go back to school,” he admitted, one hand rubbing the back of his neck shyly. “I’ll be a bit behind, but...I want to study something I actually like this time.”

You had told him about how you had been working in a child therapy ward ever since you had graduated, about all the children you had met and loved and cared for. As you talked about them, you saw a wistful look in Jisung’s eyes, and a thought crossed your mind. “Have you heard anything from—from Minho?” 

He gave a small smile, but shook his head. “Rarely. It hasn’t been long since he was released, but he said he was planning on going abroad. Doing some travelling. I think...he’ll reach out when he’s ready.” He then added, as an afterthought, “And if he doesn’t, I wouldn’t blame him.”

The sad simplicity of Jisung’s words stirred a strange feeling you couldn’t quite place in your chest, and your mind flashed back to the cold-eyed coroner and his stiff smiles; then, to the raw pain that had cracked through his strained features the last time you had caught a glimpse of him. Maybe you would meet again one day, or maybe that truly would be the last you ever heard of him.

Healing of the mind, you knew, was a strange process—one that always took much longer than you would expect. There were always scars that reopened along the way, old hidden wounds that surfaced right when you least expected them. There would always be answers you might never find, you mused sadly, closure you might never get.

But sometimes, you thought as you listened to Jisung talk, memorizing the feeling of his fingers interlaced with yours, sometimes we can only hope to hold onto what we already have. 

The end of the night drew closer, and when Jisung and you had stepped outside the diner, the city was swimming in the dark ochre of the setting sun. Eventually, the two of you ended up back in the wide garden behind the hospital, your laughs and giddy conversation slowly hushing into softer murmurs. In the distance, the rush of cars on the main road grew sparser, the windows of the buildings around you flickering to life one by one like young stars. Here, though, as you rested your head on Jisung’s shoulder beneath a willow tree, the world seemed to stand still, and all was quiet.

You heard Jisung yelp suddenly and looked down to see a familiar dog pattering around your feet—a stray, with scraggly fur like an overgrown teddy bear that had been through the wash one too many times. It immediately pounced onto Jisung, beginning to lick your boyfriend’s face like no tomorrow.

“Oof! Hey there, old buddy.”

You laughed, scooping the dog off—only after it had gotten a few slobbery licks in—and shivered slightly as a cool night wind swept past you. Noticing, Jisung shrugged off his jacket, draping it over your shoulders as you raised a teasing eyebrow at the cliche move.

“It looks good on you,” Jisung insisted, and you laughed incredulously.

“Your jacket?” You asked, ruffling the dog’s ears as it curled up at your feet.

At that, Jisung looked back up at you—seeing the faint outline of your smile in the dark, your eyes sparkling as you looked back at him expectantly, obliviously—and in that moment, Jisung wondered what he had ever done to deserve someone as perfect as you. 

After a beat, he replied, “Happiness. Happy looks good on you, love.”

Your mouth parted in surprise—both at his words, and at the unexpected name—and Jisung took the chance to lean in and kiss you, pressing his soft lips to yours. Gently, at first — carefully, but as you began to kiss him back, you felt Jisung slowly relax. You kissed him the way you had wanted to for so long, feeling the years of distance, of heartache, of endless waiting finally unravel beneath your lips. His hands reached up to gingerly cup your face, pulling you closer into him as if he never intended to let go. 

Happy looks good on you, too, Han Jisung, you wanted to say once you pulled away, forehead still lightly pressed to his. And you deserve it, more than anything. You watched Jisung’s features come back into focus beneath the dim moonlight. His gaze was fixed on yours, filled with nothing but pure adoration, and you felt a sudden surge of warmth coursing through your chest. 

I love you, you wanted to tell him, more than you could ever know — but something in the warm yet playful look in Jisung’s eyes told you that he was already thinking the exact same thing.

So you just smiled, and leaned in to kiss him again.

                                                YOUNG GOD | END

ryu says: to you — yes, you, who has reached the end of this series! this epilogue is my way of saying a big thank you to those who stayed along for the entire wild ride that was young god. thank you for loving the characters, the world of miroh heights, and of course, the story! there are easter eggs and full-circle moments all throughout this epilogue, so i hope you enjoy and have fun finding them all ^^

disclaimer: in my opinion, all epilogues are open to interpretation: i’ve left some characters’ stories untold, some loose ends untied for this exact reason. miroh heights’ story has finally come to a close here, but what happens to the characters from this moment on continues in the reader’s mind now. 

all that cheesy, pretentious stuff aside, i hope to see you in the next story!

[seriouslysnape]

First your writing is amazing! Second if you’re willing to write for young Snape will you consider writing him with a fellow classmate (Slytherin)? They’re best friends and there’s been mutual pining but neither of them recognize it, even though her other friends have tried to convince her that Snape is into her. And eventually he’s the one to finally confess and as he anxiously rambles on, she interrupts him by kissing him.

No worries if you don’t want to write it!

SO CUTE. THESE ARE THE BEST IDEAS. This one is stupid cheesy and fluffy. 

(Below the cut ofc) :)

__

Taking Chances

Young Severus Snape x Fem. Reader

Warnings: None.

Word Count: 2,355

“Doesn’t it just take your breath away?”

__

“He’s looking at you again.” Your friend whispered from where she sat across from you.

You glanced over your shoulder to see the familiar Slytherin boy that you had become so acquainted with over the years. He was sitting by himself at one of the tables in the Hogwarts library, an overly large Advanced Potions book open in front of him. His black hair was unkempt and had grown well past his ears, his slender frame hunched over his study material as he quickly averted your gaze once you gave him a friendly smile.

You turned your attention back to your friend who was looking at you with a knowing smirk. You raised a brow.

“What?” You questioned.

“He likes you.” She stated quietly so no one else could hear.

You gave her a heavy sigh in response. Not this again.

“We’ve been over this. Severus doesn’t like me like that. We’re just friends.” You explained, hiding the disappointment in your voice.

“Friends who spend every day together and very clearly have a thing for each other.” She argued back, tapping her quill on her parchment.

It was common knowledge within the Slytherin House that you and Severus Snape were the unofficial couple of all the sixth years. The two of you had grown extremely close during your time at Hogwarts, and there weren’t many things that the two of you didn’t know about each other. You tended to be so close that you were blind to the fact that you both were crazy about each other.

“Is it so wrong for me to have a close friend who happens to be a boy?” You asked, feeling Severus’ stare on you again.

She shrugged, completely forgetting about the assignment she had been working on. Your other friends had been telling you for years that he admired you. They noticed the way he hid his face behind his hair when you complimented him or said something kind. Or the way he squirmed in his seat whenever you entered a room and sat next to him. The only time he ever really seemed to smile or have any sense of happiness at all was when you were around.

Other students always gave him such a hard time. He was a shy, quiet kid with not a lot of backbone to defend himself. He let other kids toss him around and walk all over him. You had always felt sorry for him. Any initial encounter you had with him had been nothing but pleasant. You were a popular Slytherin girl, boys and girls alike of all Houses were constantly feigning for your attention.

Severus was the only one who you had ever had any interest in.

He had a pure heart, which was more than you could say for anyone else who had ever tried to win you over. He was just a little different was all. There wasn’t anything wrong with that. You steadily began to build a beautiful friendship, and you saw a side of Severus that you were sure no one else would ever witness. He quickly became your best and most trusted friend.

You didn’t expect to fall in love with him though.

“Not at all. I’m just saying that it’s clear that you’re dancing around one another.” She pointed out, briefly looking at Severus and then back to you.

You didn’t offer any kind of response, hoping she’d drop the conversation. You were sure that she, along with the rest of your friends, were horribly wrong. You didn’t believe that Severus had feelings for you, no matter how badly you wanted it to be true.

She leaned in even closer, her voice even quieter than before.

“You know, [Y/N]...there’s no shame in making the first move.” She advised.

You snorted, rolling your eyes.

“Yeah, and be horribly rejected and humiliated? No thanks.” You replied curtly.

She shot you a doubtful look.

“Come on. Severus would never embarrass you. The worst that could happen is that he says no to a date,” She said, trying her hardest to persuade you; “Just take a chance. You never know what might happen.”

You rolled your eyes again, packing up your stuff. You were done with this conversation.

“If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to spend my time with someone less pushy.” You insulted your fellow Slytherin friend.

She didn’t take that personally. She brushed it off, knowing you were just frustrated. You moved yourself and your belongings to the table where Severus was sitting.

“Can I sit here?” You asked him sweetly, knowing he wouldn’t mind.

He nodded in response, acting as if he hadn’t just been staring at you for the last half hour. A hot blush crept onto his pale cheeks so he shook his head slightly to push his hair in front of his face to hide it.

“How is your Potions homework going? I haven’t done mine yet.” You asked, eyeing the book he had been reading from.

“Rather well. I can help you with yours, if you want.” He said.

Your chest fluttered gratefully at his offer. Severus was exceptional when it came to Potions. It wasn’t a shocker that he had chosen to take Advanced Potions this year. You were decent enough at it to qualify for the advanced class, but you still struggled with some concepts. Severus, on the other hand, completely aced it.

“That’d be great. This chapter has been hard for me.” You admitted, reaching into your bag to retrieve your less impressive Potions textbook.

He began to walk you through the homework, pointing out what each section required you to do. You had placed yourself next to him, watching as he scribbled the names of ingredients and amounts of each on the parchment. You watched how his focus trained in on what he was doing, and how he carefully explained certain concepts to you.

He was so cute when he was confident.

“You try this last one. It lists the ingredients and you have to figure out what potion the question is asking for.” He said, handing your quill back to you.

When you took it from his grip, your fingers brushed against his for a moment. His skin was surprisingly supple, yet calloused in some areas on his hand.. He spent a lot of time brewing potions, so you expected him to have some wear on them. Your eyes met his for a moment, looking stunned that your hands had just touched.

You quickly zoned back into your work, ignoring the flushing feeling you felt in your legs. He patiently waited for you to read the ingredients listed. He noted how your brows furrowed in concentration while you racked your brain of all the possible answers. You were dedicated to your work and education. You were motivated to be a successful witch after you graduated next year. He admired your work ethic and determination. He was so fond of the way you went out of your way to make him feel seen. You genuinely cared for him and made him happy.

“I think it’s...Everlasting Elixir?”” You said, half content with your answer.

“Exactly,” Severus confirmed; “You’re better at Potions than you give yourself credit for.”

You swallowed hard at his compliment, but gave him a kind smile. He really could be so charming...even if it was unintentional.

“Thanks, S. You’ve been a huge help.” You returned the compliment.

He gave a rare, but cute smile in return. He was more than willing to help you. A silence grew between the two of you. Suddenly, neither of you could think of what to say. You thought about what your friend had been saying. Maybe you should make a move. It wasn’t like it would kill you if you did. You didn’t want to ruin your friendship by any means, but you were afraid you’d regret it if you let this go undiscussed.

“Do you want to meet me in the courtyard later? The sunset is always so pretty this time of year and I hate watching it alone.” You said, deciding you needed more time if you were going to do this.

Sunset watching? Severus thought about that idea for a second or so. You hadn’t ever done that together. Wasn’t that something that couples did?

“Yes. I’d like that.” He accepted.

You sheepishly laughed, nodding excitedly.

“I’ll see you then.” You said, getting up from your seat and dashing out of the library.

You had to prepare yourself for any outcome. At least now you wouldn’t spend the rest of your life wondering what could’ve been.

__

Dusk came quickly over Hogwarts castle, faster than you wanted it to. The sky blended into a beautiful canvas of orange, purple, and red. You were sitting on a concrete ledge, your feet swinging over the side. You had been building this moment up in your head all day. You still didn’t even know what you were going to say. How would he react? What if it totally destroyed your friendship?

There were too many unknowns that you just didn’t want to deal with if you didn’t have to.

The courtyard was surprisingly quiet for a Friday evening. Usually there were all kinds of students spread out around it. You took that as a blessing though. At least now there wasn’t anyone around to witness your possible rejection. Soon after, you spotted Severus entering the courtyard. He was walking with his head lowered slightly, per usual. However, he seemed to be standing a little taller than he usually did.

“Hi, Severus.” You greeted.

He was lovestruck at how beautiful you looked in the golden hour lighting. Your skin glowed and your eyes sparkled with perfection. He just couldn’t understand how anyone could feel this strongly about someone. He often wished that you were trained in Legilimency so you could read his mind every time you saw him.

That way you’d know how he felt about you. He thought that he made his feelings clear over the last few years. He was obviously interested when he had conversations with you or even when he was in your presence. You were the only person he helped with Potions or any class for that matter. He had laid his feelings out on the table in the only way he knew how. Couldn’t you see how his heart yearned for you?

“You look wonderful.” He said as boldly as he could, taking a spot next to you.

You smiled for the thousandth time that day, thanking him graciously. You  looked to the sky, mesmerized by the pretty swirls of color.

“Doesn’t it just take your breath away?” You asked, sighing contently.

Severus replied, but his eyes weren’t on the sky. But you didn’t notice.

“Yes. Every time.” He confessed, his black eyes on you.

He continued on.

“I wasn’t aware that you watch the sunset often.” He stated.

You shrugged.

“I don’t do it every day. Just when I have time for it.” You explained, gaze still fixed on the sky.

He nodded in understanding. He thought about how you were a lot like a sunset. Beautiful, comforting, calm, consistent. He knew he could always count on you to show up for him. He loved that. He was close enough to you that your shoulders were almost touching. If he paid attention, he could feel body heat radiate off of you.

“Did you have a nice rest of your day?” He questioned.

He was always so curious to hear about your day. Every aspect of your life fascinated him. You liked that he always cared about the seemingly small things.

“I did. I managed to finish all my homework. I’m tired of having weekend work.” You laughed.

He laughed as well, a soft, calculated sound bubbling out of him. You felt your nerves begin to rise back in your belly. You had to do this while the moment was right. You had to get on with it. Just ask him how he felt...or rather confess your own feelings. You had put this off for far too long.

Take a chance. Just take a chance.

You took a breath to speak, ready to bite the bullet, but he beat you to the punch.

“[Y/N], can I tell you something?” He asked, forcing his hands to stop shaking.

You were stunned for a split second, but recovered rapidly.

“Of course. Anything.” You prompted him to go on.

He looked to his feet, his shyness shining through. He gulped and anxiously pushed his hair behind his face.

“I really like you.” He confessed through a tight breath.

Your brain short circuited. No way. The tables had surely turned. A million emotions crashed over you like a giant, ocean wave. You were flooded with excitement, relief, happiness, and love all at once. Severus went on.

“Uhm a-and not just as a friend. I lov- I like you a lot more than that,” He announced; “I d-don’t want you to be mad at me now, but-”

And then you kissed him, gently and sweetly.

It caught him off guard at first, not expecting that reaction. He took it as a good sign, kissing back before it was too late to do so. He never saw this moment coming, but he was so glad that it did. He had never had a girlfriend before, but he was pretty sure he was going to like it.

You pulled back to look at Severus, who was wildly blushing now.

“I’m definitely not mad.” You smirked.

He smiled softly and contently.

“You like me too?” He asked, wanting to be absolutely sure.

“Yes. I absolutely do.” You nodded happily.

He exhaled with relief. This was more than either of you could’ve ever dreamed of. It was something you had wanted for long that it almost didn’t feel real. He kissed you this time, adoring the feel of you against him. For a moment, your mind went to the conversation you had earlier. You knew one thing for sure.

You would definitely take chances more often.

[yostresswritinggirl]

A Yearly Memory

~Zhongli x Reader

Warnings: None

Characters: Zhongli, Lesser God!Reader

Relationship: Ambiguous

Word Count: 1.2k words

A small drabble because I got self-conscious seeing y'all greet the Geo daddy- Happy Birthday, Zhongli hnghhh, first time greeting a fictional character kek and writing in tumblr sooo Enjoy a happy new year and let's hope this one does end happy!

Made this at 2:55 AM so don't expect much kek

Can you imagine 6000 and more years of the same day passing, taking time to organize a feast for that particular date? In their circumstance, time isn't relevant, for Gods who lived beyond a millenia. Honestly, everyone who lived in Celestia saw time as irrelevant and passing, nothing but the sun and the moon exchanging thrones in the sky for 365 rotations.

But for Rex Lapis who prides himself the oldest archon also relives those 6 milleniums ever so clearly.

And in his passing, and even before, he has grown accustomed to the importance of 'time' and 'day' and 'night'.

Yet, he stood atop a grassy cliff, overlooking the harbour of his own land where comes a perfect view of the moon parallel to where he stands.

In this particular day every passing year, he finds himself here as if pulled by the winds himself for reasons he cannot fathom.

"Morax-? Morax!" Calls from behind him accompanied with light footsteps crunching the blades of grass under it. His amber eyes only widen slightly before willing it to pull away from the waves that bounced the moonlight.

"God of Memories— (Y/N), I was not aware of your immigration to Liyue, are you perhaps here to document the coming of the annual departure to a new cycle?"

Your form finally catches up to his side, straightened after gathering yourself from what seems to be a marathon just to find him. The ex-archon besides you possessed a slight smile at the height difference. For it was ironic that despite the same age you had lived (and maybe even more for you, as you had existed whence the first memory had came), he was still very much heads above you, contrasting to him as you don a younger appearance to his olden self.

You carry with you a device he does not recognize and when his eyes bounces back to where yours shine in hidden mischief, you looked at him almost offended, incredulous.

"Mr. Newly-Retired, I've heard you abandoned your position to live among the humans you once overlooked," you didn't even bother to answer him.

He'd perked up, tensing his shoulders, ready to be lectured by yours truly. For after all it was you two left that remained longest standing in the history of higher beings, he'd known you'd feel betrayed that he had just abandoned your side like so.

He opens his mouth to explain— "And so, to start your new chapter, it's only fair we impart to you some human tradition!" and it stays open in confusion.

The glint in your eyes finally surfaces full blown and he couldn't help but relish in that cheeky smile you matched it with, arms shifting to lift the contraption hanging from your neck. "I'm fairly certain I'm accurate on my counting so

Happy 6052nd birthday, Zhongli!"

He hides his raw surprise and fluster in an airy chuckle, following your twinkling giggle as you nudged him with an elbow.

Is that why he's subconsciously sentimental of this day ever since? For it was the exact date but rolled back thousand of years ago, to when he first set foot on Teyvat?

"Birthdays... I didn't even notice, and quiet so early too. Thank you, (Y/N), I am grateful for your time and consideration." Zhongli would flash a smile so sentimental and pure that it almost brings you to your knees with the innocence it carries. He's so precious— precious!

"Y-yes, you are welcome! I would have brought some fresh silk flowers as a gift," he'd tilt his head in silent inquiry as you once again fumbled on the rectangular box, "but such gifts wilts too easily, swept aside in just four days! Too quick and easily forgotten." Now the god before you would love to protest, for everything you'd leave behind for him will always be immortalized in his heart and mind.

"So I created this thing over here! I call it a Kamera!" Despite his confusion over the contraption, your triumphant grin only sends him fluttering and urging you to continue. For others it was a rare sight to see someone else do the talking when Zhongli was part of the conversation, but the man in question also enjoys lending an ear, indulging himself especially when it comes to knowledge he has not heard of. "It freezes a moment in time, capturing it in a parchment to be kept forever. As your first celebration, I wanted to capture it clearly for us to look back to together! Like so!"

Without another word, you had grabbed his forearm to urge him lower, using the same hand to loosely wrap around his neck. He'd almost had to kneel from the height difference as he stumbled upon your forcefulness when a click and a fragment of light sounded from afront before he could get his bearings.

"Tada! Oh look, you look so good in an image, it worked perfectly!"

Your energy matched a very particular person Zhongli had to deal with but yours were refreshing and contagious despite the nigh hours of the night.

He had patted his sleeve straight as he watches you mercilessly flap a piece of paper that somehow appeared on your hand. He has questions, a lot, and he was once again interrupted by you: shoving the paper to his face like it was a trophy of a competition you'd been waiting for your whole life.

It was a portrait but accurately colored and captured to a size as big as his palm. Your arm around his neck with a wide, closed-eye grin while looking straight ahead and him (clearly unprepared) with an obvious surprise and touch of obliviousness, glowing amber eyes slightly trained to your profile.

He was glad he was a professional in keeping a calm composture, because he saw just about the most obvious red dust on his cheeks, now immortalized for everyone who sets their eyes upon on the paper to witness.

"Ah, I'm so happy it worked even when I had to rush it to be on time! Here, keep this, as your birthday gift!" You practically shoved the device and the image to his arms with buzzing excitement and pride. "Happy birthday, again!"

An advance technology constructed with the sole idea of being a gift for him? His appreciation is beyond words that rendered him speechless and you patiently watch him take into account everything that has been thrown at him.

"Zhong-zhong... you're too quiet—"

A snap and a flash blew your pupils and forced you to cover your eyes to rub the spots dancing in your vision. He was a fast learner but damn, he could have warned you of his impulsive ministrations.

As you whine over your semi-blinded state with jumbled protests spewing out of your lips, the man before you holds a euphoric smile over the new paper clutched between his fingers.

It was the best gift he'd ever received in his lifetime.

"Thank you, for this and everything. I hope you know how deeply I appreciate you."

Morax's smile, the God of War, however faltered at the edges when he saw the darkened stare looking down upon him. The twitch of your eyebrow makes a sudden sweat fall off his.

[houndsofcerberus]

Apotheosis Chapter 2

Summary: Techno and Theseus arrive to Nimius though the arrival is met with…mixed reviews

No CWs

https://archiveofourown.org/works/33386038/chapters/83133148

The rhythmic clopping of the horse’s hooves and the rolling of the cart wheels had become monotonous and boring by the time they finally reached their destination. The only change from the expanse of identical trees was when they had neared. Nimius was large but it’s capital, settled near it’s southernmost border, was a sight to behold. Nimius was known for its abundance, having been named for its wealth. This of course brought with it lavish lifestyle, but this wasn’t unanimous across the kingdom. The country had many smaller villages and hamlets, a great deal of the Nimian population was in fact farmers and ranchers. The land Nimius occupied was some of the best across the continent for farming, the soil was rich and fertile and the conditions were mild enough and the growing season long enough to have made Nimius an agricultural giant amongst the land.

Technoblade was of the opinion that no description could do the feeling of walking into the Nimian capital justice however. No story, nor poem, nor song could ever compare to the feeling of walking in. The royal family’s crest depicted a peacock, bright and fierce, and proud as all hell, signifying the wealth of the region. The crest was frequent in the city however it was more apparent around the castle. They were a proud people who showed their wealth happily. Techno hadn’t been in Nimius for quite some time, though as the cart rolled into the city it appeared not much had changed. The streets were well kept, clean and had planter boxes lining the cobbled streets, the stones were smooth and the buildings light in color. White and teal were everywhere, along with dull orange terracotta and faux gold shimmer. Murals decorated the walls of several buildings, well kept up and beautifully bright. It was like walking into a painting. Theseus was leaning forward, looking around, eyes wide as he took in the market smelling strongly of fresh bread and other delicious smells from the vendors in the street. People walked idly, moving out of the way of Techno’s cart and looking in curiously. Some frowned and watched Techno, though he didn’t blame them. He had accumulated many many battle scars from his adventures, and several were laid into his face, leaving him looking… rough to say the least. He pressed on, ignoring them and driving the horses to the castle ahead.

It was an architectural masterpiece, within its large gates it was covered in ivy and tile mosaics of trees, peacocks, and farmland. The things that made Nimius what it was. It was beauty and luxury in its purest form, abundance at its most bare and most extravagant. Technoblade had missed Nimius.

“Woah!” Theseus gasped, leaning so far forward Techno needed to grab his shirt and pull him back into the seat. “What are those?” he asked excitedly, pointing at a blue bird amongst several others, it’s tail long as it trailed behind the bird, folded. The feather’s were iridescent and there was a small crest on its head.

“That's a peacock, the monarch has an affinity for them,” Techno said fondly. As his dog passed the bird, clearing the path for the horses, several of the peacocks shook out their tails and Theseus’ eyes went wide once more.

“It’s got so many eyes!” he said, looking at Technoblade in wonder.

“It’s just a pattern, they use it to scare off anything trying to eat them.” Techno said, smiling lightly.

“They’re so pretty,”

“Very, but you can’t pet these ones, they aren’t nice. There’s one inside you could pet though.” Techno said. Theseus nodded excitedly as Techno stopped the cart in front of the castle, looking over each of the guards. As much as he loved it here he couldn’t be too comfortable so he kept his sword on him and stepped off, whistling to the dog and gesturing with a nod of the head to the cart. She jumped up and settled in the back as Theseus scrambled down off the cart, running to catch up. A young man had come out and paused in front of them as they both waited for Theseus.

“Eret is waiting for you inside. Just f-” The young man was cut off by another who had approached, staring at the sword.

“No weapons.” He said gruffly.

“I’m not stupid enough to kill a seer, let alone a monarch. Let me in.” Techno said flatly.

“No. Put the sword in your cart. And that whip too.” The man said stepping in front of Techno, arms crossed. He had a mask over the top of his face but Techno was close enough to see his bright green eyes and furrowed brows.

“And if I don’t?” Techno asked, smiling lazily.

“You don’t wanna find out.” came the reply as he went to draw his sword. Techno copied the move, hand on the hilt of his sword. Theseus grabbed onto Techno’s pant leg, and Techno chanced a quick look, seeing briefly the fear on his face. When his eye darted back up the man had relaxed slightly, eyes focused on the child for a moment before looking back at Techno and glaring twice as hard.

“Boys quit it,” came a new voice, familiar to Techno’s ears. Techno grinned and let go of his sword to smile innocently at Eret descending the stairs to the castle doors, accompanied by a woman a bit younger than Technoblade. Eret was… well Eret. Well dressed in beautiful clothes, somehow looking well dressed and casual at the same time, putting Techno’s outfit of his usual cape, shirt, pants and other gear to shame despite sharing the same style. She smiled and approached, shaking his head playfully.

“What? I was just playing around,” Techno said, laughing easily and relaxing. He bowed to them, head down in a show of respect before standing.

“You’re a bad liar. Come on, we have a lot to discuss with Puffy here, she’s my general that I told you about.” Eret said, gesturing for Techno and Theseus to follow.

“But my liege, he has weapons on him!” The man Techno had just confronted spoke up, looking panicked.

“As he always does. Sam it’s alright, this man has saved my life more times than I can count. If he wanted me dead he would’ve done so long ago. He’s as harmless as a pup.” Eret laughed, shaking their head. The man, Sam, stood there bewildered for a moment as Techno walked by, followed by Theseus who stuck his tongue out at the guard. They walked in through the large doors into a beautiful castle. Polished wood and marble was everywhere, large murals and tapestries of the gods and of old tales lining the entry hall beautifully. Techno felt out of place, dirty grungy clothing, scarred and unpolished, unrefined. Eret led them further, past the large throne room and into a further hall. Puffy opened a door, revealing a round, average sized table, six chairs around it, a teapot and snacks upon it. Eret took their spot and Puffy chose one nearby, Techno opting for one across from Eret, and Theseus clamoring up onto the chair beside Techno.

“You never told me you had a kid,” Eret said, smiling and placing a few sweets in front of Theseus.

“Sorry, I didn’t have much time, I came as soon as I got the letter,” Techno said.

“No no, it’s alright, he’s quite adorable. What’s his name?” Eret asked, smiling at Theseus who was currently enjoying a cookie that Eret had given him.

“Theseus,” Techno replied.

“I go by Tommy.” Theseus interjected, staring at Techno.

“You never mentioned that before.” Techno sighed.

“You didn’t ask.” came the reply. Puffy snorted and covered her mouth, trying to hide her smile. Techno took the moment to take her in. Her uniform was well kept, a deep indigo blue with gold accents. She had very long curly white hair, though it didn’t age her. She looked young, or at least seemed to be younger than Technoblade, though that wasn’t saying much. She had a scar, faint and light, stretching from her jaw to just under her eye. He couldn't decipher what from by the look of it, though it had obviously been taken care of considering it was so light.

“What’s wrong with your eyes?” Theseus interrupted Techno’s thoughts, loud and abrupt.

“Theseus!” Techno scolded, staring at him in disbelief.

“What?”

“You can’t say that!”

“Why not?” Theseus asked, crossing his arms. Techno sighed, frustrated.

“I’m so sorry,” He apologized.

“It’s alright, kids are kids, I take no offence.” Eret said. Their eyes which had previously been a bright and vibrant brown had slowly dulled over the years, as though there was a white film over them. Techno hadn’t mentioned it, he had only ever known Eret with the vague film on their eyes. She was a seer, it was a natural part of having Sight. “I have a gift. I can see the gods,” Eret said smiling and looking at Theseus patiently.

“Woah, that’s so cool! I wanna see the gods!”

“Well it’s not all good Tommy. My eyes look like this because it makes it so you can’t see after a while, it makes your eyes turn white and soon you can’t see anything.” Eret explained. Theseus frowned and tilted his head.

“So you’re blind?”

“Not yet. I’ve got some years ahead of me, I plan to enjoy them as much as I can.” Eret said, eyes darting to Techno who laughed.

“You did enough living for twelve lives back in the days.” Techno smiled fondly upon the memories of their journeys together.

“Never enough Blade, never enough,” Eret said, sighing happily at their own memories of the time. “We’ll need to reminisce some other time unfortunately. You’re aware of why I requested your help?”

“Yes, the letter told me all I needed to know.” Techno said, nodding curtly, smile fading.

“Lovely. As capable as our wonderful General here is, we'll need the help. They’ve been making bold moves. We need to be bolder.”

“Are you sure?” Puffy interjected.

“You have no ideas left either. We need him.”

“No, not that. Him. Are you sure about him? I did my research, I know what he sees as ‘bold moves’.” Puffy said firmly, glaring at Techno. Just when he thought he may be able to escape mistakes of the past, here they were yet again coming to bite him in the ass.

“Can we not discuss that? Not right now? I’d rather not defend those actions in front of a child.” Techno said sharply. Puffy looked between Technoblade and Theseus before nodding. “We’ll finish this later.” Techno added. “For now I need your files and information about it. As well as anything relevant to the situation, including border declarations. Anything Nimius and Ecren have both signed.”

“Of course. I have an office for you in the south wing and your room is ready. We can give Tommy a tour of the castle maybe and have some dinner, by then I’ll have a room for him beside yours.” Eret said, pouring herself a cup of tea, and then pouring one for Technoblade. “Puffy, can I ask you to gather the necessary documents while I catch up with my friend?” He asked kindly. Puffy nodded and gave a brief informal bow before leaving the room. “Maybe Tommy would like to go find Calypso in his garden,” Eret said, smiling.

“Who’s Calypso?” Theseus asked,

“You remember I mentioned there’s a peacock you can pet inside the castle? That’s Calypso. He’s a sweetheart, and has his own garden.” Techno said, smiling. Theseus grinned, turning to Eret and nodding quickly.

“Alright, give me a moment,” Eret said, standing and walking to the door. Eret smiled and gestured to someone. “Skeppy, are you on your way by Calypso’s garden?” She called.

“Yeah, gonna go visit Bad in the kitchens, see if he needs help.” came the reply, presumably from Skeppy.

“Lovely, we have a guest, come here,”

Skeppy stepped in, smiling and waving at Techno and Theseus.

“Can you show Theseus here how to get to the garden? He’d like to meet Calypso, maybe swing by and steal an extra treat for him when you go pester Bad hm?”

“I wasn’t gonna steal anything, just… taste test,” Skeppy argued.

“Uh huh. Grab him an extra bite,”

Theseus looked to Techno for permission to go this time. After the last time he went off away from Technoblade he didn’t seem keen to repeat the situation. Techno nodded and gestured to Skeppy.

“Go, I’ll come get you in a bit, kid,” He said reassuringly. Theseus ran off with Skeppy, following him into the hall excitedly chatting with Skeppy. Eret sat and they both waited until they could no longer hear them.

“So… you’re a dad.” Eret said, leaning back with their teacup in hand. “That's… unexpected for you.”

“Yeah. I didn’t plan to be.”

“Past few years must’ve been quite the learning curve for you then huh?” Eret chuckled. Techno froze, not looking his friend in the eyes.

“Well… I wasn’t around.” Techno admitted. “His mom had to track me down to tell me. And we had an agreement.”

“You didn’t…” Eret said.

“I didn’t abandon them… entirely.” Techno said, trying to defend himself. “She knew what kind of guy I was, she knew about them. I told her when she said she was pregnant. She agreed it wasn’t a good idea, but she couldn’t work with a child and no husband so… I’ve been sending her money over the years. Bought them a nice home, money for food and clothes, a repairman, and extra for savings. I made sure she could give him a good life. I swear I wouldn’t just leave, I just…”

“So why is he with you now then?” Eret asked.

“She passed. A few days ago actually. She wrote to me and had the message passed along urgently and when I got there it was bad. She told me to take him and take care of him. I figured I owe her that, but I… have no clue how to do this.” Techno sighed, shrugging and leaning back. He didn’t dare look at Eret, he didn’t want to see their look of disappointment.

“Gods above Technoblade, what a fine mess you’ve made for yourself. We’re a nation at war, why’d you bring him?”

“The other jobs were too dangerous. Tracking down criminals, on the front lines for weeks, assassination, murder, this was the safest. He doesn’t have to be involved in the war, he can stay and if we must evacuate he can go with. This war won’t be fast, Ecren is not going to give in, it’s more stable.”

“What makes you say that?” Eret asked. Techno sighed and reached into his pocket, pulling out a crumpled piece of paper and standing, leaning over the table to hand it to Eret. Eret took it and unfolded the paper. “They requested you as well?”

“Yeah. Offered me the position of General.”

“You didn’t take it. Why?” Eret said, frowning skeptically, eyes trained on Technoblade’s sword.

“I’d be on the frontlines, the pay was worse, it came after yours, and you’re one of my oldest friends. I’m a lot of things, but I am not a liar and I don’t go back on my promises. I told you I’d come back if you ever needed help. I’m here. I have no obligations in Ecren or interest in helping them. This was my home for a while too, I’m going to defend it.” Techno said.

“You never change. It’s nice to have you on the team, old friend,” Eret said, smiling and folding the piece of paper, tossing it back on the table and relaxing. “Like the old days.”

“Like the old days.” Techno agreed

Techno found Theseus in the garden, sitting amongst the beautiful abundance of foliage and flowers, Calypso sitting in his lap fast asleep. It was kind of sweet, Theseus was gently petting the bird, making sure not to wake him, looking around at all the butterflies fluttering above them from flower to flower. The garden was vibrant, it was as though you stepped into a forest, and though it was a bit warm it was comfortable. Theseus seemed at peace there. Techno walked over and sat on the bench near Theseus’ spot on the ground.

“Where’d the name Tommy come from?” He asked quietly, being careful not to startle the bird or the child.

“My mom. She always called me Tommy instead.” He replied in a whisper, transfixed on the bird in his lap. He seemed enamored with Calypso, fascinated endlessly by the brightly colored and well kept feathers. Enough so that he had finally stopped moving and talking for the first time since Techno had met him. He was a lively kid, probably even more so before his mother passed. He hadn’t been sleeping well, crying himself to sleep in the wagon, waking from nightmares. On the worst days when it seemed he truly realized he was never seeing his mother again he had refused to eat, and sat silently in the wagon. Technoblade was not someone experienced in grief, and he hadn’t had even the mildest clue on how to comfort a child who had just lost his primary caregiver, that was never easy, especially not after watching her suffer for weeks on end before dying. Techno hadn’t spoken with him much about it, unsure of how to approach that topic with an adult, let alone a child.

“Do you want me to call you Tommy instead?” Techno asked softly, voice still low to not wake the bird.

“No,” Theseus said flatly, shaking his head. Techno froze, and stared for a moment waiting for him to elaborate. No explanation came. He just left it there. Technoblade decided that it wasn’t meant to be rude, even if it sure did feel like something he should chastise him for. It wasn’t as though it was a big deal, it was just a name. Theseus had the right to say what he wanted to be called.

“...alright” Techno said after a solid minute of silence from both parties. “Dinner’s almost ready, we should head to the dining hall,” he added, gently patting him on the shoulder as he stood to get him to stand up as well.

“I don’t wanna go.” Theseus said. Techno took a moment and decided his curiosity took precedence over his ego bruising from the fact Theseus just outright refused,

“Why not?” He asked, crouching down. Theseus looked away, refusing eye contact. He looked conflicted and uncomfortable, but Techno just waited until he was ready.

“What if it’s bad? Mom always made good food, what if this is bad? And it's so big in there, the roof is so high, and everything echoes and it’s just too much. I don’t like it.” Theseus said, grimacing and glancing at the door back in. “I miss home.” He added more quietly. Techno stood and thought for a moment.

“Come with me,” He said, standing and holding out his hand. Theseus looked at Calypso and hesitated before gently picking him up and scooting him off his lap, standing and brushing the dirt off his pants.

“We’re going anyway?” Theseus asked, frowning.

“Nah, I hate the dining hall anyways, but you can’t just not eat kid. I’m taking you to the kitchens. Did you like Skeppy?”

“Yeah! He’s really funny, he told me about you!”

“...what’d he tell you?”

“That you sucked at the games he played with you!” Theseus said happily, smiling as he looked ahead.

“...huh… well I’ll have to get a rematch then. We can have dinner with Skeppy and the cook, Bad, in the kitchen instead, it’s much nicer there, not as fancy,” Techno said, taking Theseus’ hand and leading him inside, instead of going through the large extravagant halls he took a detour into a smaller homier feeling hallway. It was lined with pictures of the staff and their families, and of Eret and his parents, all the goofy pictures they wouldn’t be able to present in the front halls for guests to see. Techno looked at a few of them and got oriented to where they were. He had always preferred going through the staff halls anyways. The main halls were designed to be long, extravagant and force you to take in the wealth and lavish castle. The staff halls were shortcuts, small and much easier to navigate due to the fact that they didn’t look the same and had labels on all the doors so nobody got lost. Techno finally found the door labelled ‘Kitchen’ and pushed it open.

Beyond the door was a nice looking kitchen. It wasn’t fancy or covered in white and gold. It had a large wood stove that was next to an oven, as well as another separate brick oven in the wall. The brick oven was unlit and cold, and the wood stove looked as though it had just turned off. There were large windows that were wide open, letting in a cool breeze, and plenty of countertops littered in plates and dishes. The room was bigger than a normal home’s kitchen and much better equipped, even having a cooler to store food and a meat locker door off to the side, but half of it was occupied by a large oak table and chairs, a tablecloth spread over top. In the centre of the table was a vase with freshly cut flowers, and beside it was a basket of bread rolls. In the kitchen was a familiar face, Bad. Though Bad seemed occupied trying to get Skeppy to stop trying to eat the food before it was out on the tables.

“Skeppy, quit it!” Bad yelled, exasperated.

“Awe come on, I’m just testing it!” Skeppy laughed as he was chased away from the stock pot.

“You’re being a pest is what you’re doing,” Bad huffed, shaking his head and turning to smile. “You finally came back!” He cheered, smiling at Techno. “You come to visit or to steal food like someone else here,” Bad asked, glaring pointedly at Skeppy who had started creeping towards the other basket of bread rolls for the dining hall.

“But I’m huuuuuungryyyy” Skeppy whined. Techno laughed and grabbed a bread roll from the basket on the table, chucking it to Skeppy to occupy him for a while.

“Actually I came to see if me and the kid could eat with you and Skeppy tonight,” Techno said, smiling and gesturing at Theseus. Bad gasped and leaned over the counter to look at the kid, grinning brightly.

“Of course! Skeppy mentioned we had a little guest! I thought he was lying for an extra lemon tart,” Bad said, smiling.

“I told you he wash real,” Skeppy said triumphantly through a mouthful of bread, smiling smugly as he took another bite of the bread roll proudly.

“Yeah yeah, whatever.” Bad said, brushing him off with an eye roll and a dismissive wave. “I’ll let Eret know when we send out the food, they may join us but I doubt Sam and Puffy will let him out of sight while they have a chance to discuss things.”

“Speaking of what’s the deal with those two?” Techno asked, leaning forward against the counter.

“Ah not much, Sam is the newer one of the two, he takes his job very seriously, and Puffy is normally a lot more calm but everything going on has been stressing her out. This’ll be her first conflict as General, she’s been in the military for a long time but this time she’ll be calling the shots on the field so she’s just trying to be careful,” Bad said shrugging. “Nice folks, heart in the right place but you caught ‘em at a bad time. Why are you here now?”

“Same reason. Eret asked me to come as a strategist.” Techno said. “War needs experience, I guess that’s why she asked me to come.”

“What’s war? You guys keep talking about it and I don’t know what it means.” Theseus asked abruptly. Bad looked as though he had frozen to the spot and Skeppy was trying not to laugh at him but Techno just turned and looked at Theseus unbothered.

“Y’know how there are countries? Well sometimes they get into fights with lots of people on both sides. That's war.” Techno said flatly. Bad gave him an incredulous look and when Techno made eye contact he shrugged. There was no point in lying. This would be the kid’s life for a while.

“Oh. When will it be over?” Theseus asked, frowning. “It seems like a lotta work.

“I don’t know, kid, probably not for a few years.” Technoblade replied, shrugging.

“That’s a long time. I want it over now,”

“Me too, tell you what though, you and I get to live here with Skeppy and Eret and Bad until it’s over, so that doesn’t seem too bad right?” Techno asked, smiling ever so slightly and ruffling Theseus’ blond hair gently.

“I guess not,”

Dinner had gone well, Theseus ate all his food for the first time in ages, even telling Technoblade as they left the kitchen that it was “almost as good as mom’s” which seemed to be high praise for him. Techno was just glad he ate all of it. They had talked with Skeppy and Bad easily, and despite Eret not being able to join them it was a good time. Afterwards Techno had gone to the stables, Theseus trailing behind him. Someone had put away his horses and his dog wasn’t too far off from them. Techno checked what they had to eat and drink and after deciding it was good enough he grabbed his brushes from the wagon behind the stable. He would bring his books and Theseus’ things up to their rooms when they went back in. Theseus stood just inside the stable door, watching Technoblade brush the larger of the two horses meticulously.

“Why didn’t you name them?” Theseus asked, echoing his question from days earlier.

“I just didn’t.”

“Can I name them?” Theseus asked. Techno made the mistake of looking at Theseus, whose eyes were large and watery as he silently begged. Not even he could last against that look.

“...fine.” Techno conceded, sighing and shaking his head.

“Yay! This one is gonna be.... Andrew!” Theseus proclaimed proudly, looking chuffed with himself.

“That’s a good one,” Techno said, chuckling slightly.

“And the other one is gonna be Carl!” Theseus added. “Oh and the doggie! Can I name her? Pretty please?”

“Might as well,”

“Clementine!” Theseus cheered happily. The dog, who had previously been laying calmly, watching Techno and Theseus from outside the stall stood at that, walking over and wagging her tail at Theseus.

“Well she seems to like it. Nice job kid,” Techno said, smiling fondly. He continued brushing the newly named Andrew and Carl, meticulously picking out their feet and checking for any rocks before he finally let them be. Clementine, also pleased with the new moniker curled up in Carl’s stall, and Techno pulled out some dried meat from the wagon, promising he’d take her hunting the next day for some game. He knew she couldn’t understand but it gave him peace of mind at least.

He took Theseus to the wagon and grabbed his large box of books and other important trinkets within, buried under the pages, and helped Theseus grab his few things. The child frowned as he looked for something, not finding it.

“What’re you missin’?” Techno asked.

“My teddy bear, mom gave it to me, I had it hidden in my bag!” Theseus said, looking distressed.

“You think you forgot it at home?” Techno asked, frowning. His frown deepened when Theseus nodded, tears welling up in his eyes. “Hey, hey it’s okay kid.” he rushed, trying to think about what one of his friends would’ve said. Squid had always been better with kids, so he tried to think of what he would say. “Your teddy bear is.... Protecting your house?” He suggested. Theseus paused and sniffed, nodding slowly. It seemed to work. “He has to look after it cause you’re not there anymore.”

“...okay,” Theseus said quietly, nodding. He still looked sad but no longer like he was gonna cry, which Techno counted as a massive win in his favor. Maybe parenting wouldn’t be that bad after all.

They brought in the items, and Eret showed them to their rooms. Eret’s was at the end of the hall and Techno’s was a few doors down. Beside Techno’s room was Theseus’ room and both seemed good, better than the wagon had been. There was a fireplace in techno’s room, and he remembered the layout of it quite well. He had stayed there for some time previously, and chosen the room specifically for the fireplace and the small bathroom attached to it. It wasn’t as large and well furnished as Eret’s washroom or any of the others in the castle, but there was running water, a sink, a toilet and a bathtub. That was more than enough for Techno, who had long since grown used to mostly washing up in rivers. Techno let Theseus settle in his room and showed him where to go if he needed help before slipping into his room. He put his books on the empty shelves and the various treasures were hidden in the room. His jewelry box set on the nightstand.

He opened the dresser and found some clean clothes that he had previously left. That would also be nice, laundry wouldn’t be such a pain. He bathed himself and got Theseus to stop jumping on the bed long enough to catch him and wrangle him into the bath as well afterwards. He had protested heavily until he hit the warm water, sinking into it almost immediately. He still protested as Techno scrubbed the dirt off his face and out of his hair but it was half-hearted and he seemed quite happy afterwards, wrapped in a blanket and wearing clean pajamas donated by Eret from when they were young. They were a bit big but Theseus said they were comfortable. Techno got him settled into bed and blew out the oil lamp in the room, leaving him to sleep. Techno lit his fireplace and stoked the fire until it was roaring steadily, warming the room. He blew out his own oil lamp after grabbing one of his novels, deciding on an old hero tale he had been fond of. He settled into the rocking chair by the fireplace, opening the well worn pages and settling in to lose himself in the story.

He had always cherished the fact he could read, and he was thankful for the escape. Sometimes he found solace from everything around him in the pages of a good story. He particularly enjoyed adventures with a clear hero. He never saw himself in those pages, and though as strange as it may have seemed it was nice. He wanted an escape from himself, not a reflection of him on the pages. He was okay with the fact he didn’t see himself in the heroes, though all too often he saw himself in the monsters the heroes slayed. He wasn’t proud of it, and he’d never speak of those events aloud, he’d never admit to what he’d done to anyone who he cared for. Though he didn’t know how much longer he could ignore it when Puffy knew. He had no doubt Sam knew as well. The hatred and fear in his eyes as they had stood face to face earlier told him all he needed to know. He didn’t know if Eret would still accept his help if he knew, but he had to try to explain himself. Nothing would justify it, but he wanted to help people this time. Not hurt them. He paused, shaking away the thoughts, it would only encourage them to start up once more. He hadn’t gotten a handle on them just for them to pop up now of all times. He had become so wrapped up in his book that he hadn’t realized the door opened until he heard it click shut. He turned, almost expecting Eret, but instead seeing Theseus, blanket around his shoulders, sniffing and wiping at his eyes.

“Hey… what are you doing up?” Techno asked, tilting his head and closing his book, finger on the page he was on, holding it ajar.

“I couldn’t sleep…” Theseus said, sounding as though he had been sobbing. Techno frowned and gestured to him to come closer, and as he stepped into the firelight Techno could see his eyes. They were red and watery, bloodshot and puffy. His cheeks were tear-stained and he looked awful.

“Nightmare again?” Techno asked. Theseus nodded. Techno thought for a moment. He didn’t know how to comfort kids very well. “Is there something you want me to do?” He asked, figuring it wouldn’t hurt to just ask him.

“Mom would always cuddle with me…” Theseus said softly, not looking up to meet Techno’s eyes at all, but he got the message. He leaned forward and gestured him forward. Theseus took a few steps closer and Techno picked him up, placing him down on his lap. He shifted Theseus so the child was laying across his lap, leaning against his arm and chest.

“Does this work?” Technoblade asked, hoping he was doing it right. He’d seen other parents do this, but he wasn’t sure. Theseus nodded and rested his head on Techno’s chest gently. “You want me to read to you?” he asked, getting another silent nod. Techno flipped the book open to the first page, and started reading aloud off the first page. He felt Theseus cuddle into him, pulling his blanket closer around himself while yawning softly. Time escaped him, and what felt like minutes went by before he paused and looked down, to see Theseus fast asleep in his arms. He felt like he couldn’t move without waking him, and looked around to see if there was a way to take him to bed, but there wasn’t. So Techno resigned himself to sleeping in the rocking chair that night, gently putting the book down on the small table beside him. He sighed and leaned back, holding Theseus gently and closing his eyes. He smiled slightly as he felt Theseus grab onto his shirt tightly with his small hand. Maybe it was worth sleeping on the chair tonight if it meant Theseus slept soundly. It wasn’t so bad.

[wefoundloveunderthelight]

Emma's Reckless Dating Game by GleefullyCaptainSwan

Chapter 1 of 1

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Emma’s Reckless Dating Game

Emma’s head was pounding the moment she opened her eyes, a loud groan escaping her throat. She heard her roommate in the kitchen, the saccharine sounds of humming that should be illegal this early in the morning.

How much did she drink last night?

She can’t honestly remember after the fourth shot of tequila. They had been celebrating her best friend’s upcoming wedding to Emma’s brother, David.

Back in her freshman year of college, she remembered meeting Mary Margaret and immediately realizing she was the perfect match for her older brother. Of course, she was right, the two fell for each other almost at the first meeting. M’s couldn’t stop talking about how funny her brother was, how cute his eyes were when he laughed, or how much she loved the little curl at the back of his neck.

It was all disgusting and so very perfect.

If she hadn’t been so happy for them, she would have been nauseous. Though perhaps it was more from being jealous of what they had. Emma hadn’t exactly had any luck in the boyfriend department, in fact, if she were being honest, her dating life had pretty much been a disaster. Honestly, she couldn’t even lie to herself to make it seem any better.

If Mr. Right was out there somewhere, Emma was sure that by now he must have gotten lost or hit by a bus, because he sure wasn’t interested in finding her.

“It’s about time you got out of bed.”

Emma groaned, sitting down at the kitchen table. “I know you drank about as much as I did last night, how are you still so cheerful this morning?”

“I didn’t drink half as much as you did, but I have always held my liquor better than you.” She added cheerily.

“I guess I’m just not as lucky as you.” She said with a frown.

“Don’t start that, one day you’re gonna find someone, the perfect…”

“I know, I know, M’s, the perfect person who comes along at just the right moment, yada yada yada. You’ve been telling me this for years.” She drank her coffee as her friend simply rolled her eyes.

“It will happen for you; you just need to be patient.”

“I’m tired of being patient, I’d prefer a mind-blowing orgasm.”

“Emma.” Her friend reprimanded her.

“Don’t tell me it isn’t true, I’ve had the unfortunate experience of being in the next room when my brother comes over to cheeryou up. It still haunts my nightmares.”

“Oh God, you never told me you could hear us.”

“David isn’t exactly quiet. Oh baby, sing for me.” She mimicked in a deep voice as her friend’s cheeks reddened and she buried her face in her hands. “Don’t worry, I’m a big girl.”

“All you have to do is ask David, I’m sure he could set you up with one of his friends.”

Emma laughed loudly. “I think I’ll pass. David has terrible taste in friends.”

“Don’t judge everyone based on your feelings about Killian Jones.”

Killian Jones…

Her brother’s best friend and her constant nemesis. If Emma were in a superhero movie, she was sure that Killian Jones would be the villain trying to take her down and destroy the world, hellbent on revenge for his terrible outlook on life. At least that’s how Emma saw him, the rest of her friends were blinded by his blue eyes, persistent demeanor, and his ridiculous sarcastic quips.

Killian and David had been friends since elementary school, back when Emma was still wearing pig tails and braces. Her first memories of Killian were of him tugging her hair as he called an annoying brat. When he first started coming around, Emma thought he was cute, he had a pair of blue eyes that made her blush when he would stare at her, but as soon as he opened his mouth, his voice always dripping with sarcasm and insult, she quickly tired of him.

“I’m not dancing with him.” She announced angrily.

“Emma, it’s a tradition that the maid of honor and best man share a dance. You’ve danced with worse men than Killian.” She teased.

She groaned. “No one is worse than Killian Jones.”

~*~

10 years ago

“That’s a nice dress, though it would look better on my floor.” Emma rolled her eyes in annoyance at the man seated across from her at the bar. She had been set up with Walsh two nights ago by one of her college friends. He came from money; she could tell from the way he talked down to the waiter and basically anyone they had come into contact with that evening.

“This is only our second date; pretty sure I’m supposed to give you something to look forward to for next time.” She joked.

“I could imagine a lot of things to come back for.” His hand pressed again her thigh as she felt his fingertips slip under the hem of her dress. She slid her hand under the table and stilled his movement.

“Slow down there, Romeo.” She joked nervously as his hand retreated, a flash of anger in his eyes before it was gone, and a smile spread across his face.

“Let’s order some wine.” He lifted his hand, calling over the waiter to order something in French. He was quick to tell her how rare the wine was, one bottle cost more than three payments on her Volkswagen, a fact that was more disgusting to her than impressive. When they arrived at his place hours later, her head swimming in drink and chocolate, she shifted nervously on the couch as his fingers tried to invade her body. She pushed him back, trying to stop the attack of roving hands.

“Don’t fight it Emma, you know this is meant to be.” He growled against her ear. Her heart was pounding, her eyes looking wildly around the room for an escape.

“Bathroom.” She said quickly. “I need to freshen up.” She said as she stood from her spot on the couch, his hands gripping her arm so tightly she was sure it would leave a bruise. “I want to look my best.” She added, forcing a smile onto her face.

Locking the door behind her the moment he let her escape, she quickly dialed her brother’s number.

“You’ve reached David Nolan, I’m not available right now…”

“Dammit.” She growled, punching in her best friend’s number.

“It’s Mary, I’m not available, leave a message and have a blessed day…”

Emma ran down her contact list, each person either unavailable or someone she was no longer speaking to. She settled on the last name on her list, the one person she had no interest in seeking help from. Dialing the number, she held her breath.

“This better be important.” The voice growled into her ear.

“Killian?”

“You’ve got him, who’s this?”

“It’s Emma. Emma Nolan.” She said quietly.

“Emma? What the bloody hell are you calling me for?”

“Trust me, you were my last choice.” She said with a groan. “But I can’t reach David, and I need…I need a ride.”

“Do you know what bloody time it is?”

“Yeah I know, but I’m…”

“Look, I’m kind of in the middle of something right now…”She heard a woman’s voice in the background and rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, look just forget I called.”

There was silence on the other end before she heard another audible sigh. “Where do you need a ride to?”

“I was on a date, but I need to get home.”

“Then bloody ask the bloke to take you home.”

“I would but he’s…”

“Where are you?” He interrupted in annoyance.

“I’m at his house.” She whispered as she heard someone approaching the bathroom door.

“Emma, it’s late, how long does it take for you to get naked? I’m getting tired of waiting and I honestly don’t care what you look like right now.” Walsh’s voice boomed through from the other room.

“Who the hell is that?” Killian inquired on the other end of the line.

“Walsh Ozman.” She said quietly. “I um, I’ll be right out.” She hollered to the door.

“What the fuck are you doing at Walsh Ozman’s house?”Killian said angrily.

“Look, I don’t have time to argue with you right now. Just forget it…”

“I’ll be there in ten minutes, just stay in the bathroom.” His voice was flat, annoyance in his inflection, but she could tell that there was no arguing with him as he hung up the phone.

She paced the floor of the bathroom, ignoring Walsh’s building anger from the other side of the locked door. When she heard the doorbell her heartbeat raced. She held her ear to the door, hearing a murmur on the other side. She unlocked the door and slipped into the hallway, listening as Walsh raised his voice.

“I think you’re mistaken, Jones, I don’t believe anyone needs you here.”

“I disagree.” Killian’s voice sounded angry. “Where’s Emma?”

Emma walked quickly toward the door, grabbing her purse from the couch. “Killian.” Emma said with a smile.

“Emma, what the fuck.” Walsh turned toward her, grabbing her by the arm. “Did you call this asshole?”

Emma flinched, looking down at his hand on her arm. “I forgot; I have a test in the morning. Killian offered to take me home.” The grip on her arm tightened and Emma panicked.

“I think we have some business to finish first. I’ll take you home after.” He said through gritted teeth.

“I don’t think you understood me earlier.” Killian’s voice boomed from behind them. “I’m here to take Emma home.” He stepped toward Walsh. “Now.”

Emma yanked her arm free, stepping quickly to stand behind Killian. His eyes never left Walsh as he spoke. “Why don’t you wait by my bike, Swan.” Emma didn’t flinch at the use of the stupid nickname he had for her, she didn’t wait another second as she rushed out the door, speeding down the sidewalk toward Killian’s motorcycle. She waited for what felt like minutes or hours until Killian stormed angrily out of the house, grabbing his helmet before mounting the bike. He looked back at her impatiently and she quickly climbed on behind him as he pulled away from the curb, speeding off into the night.

The moment he parked in front of her dorm she climbed off the bike. “Does David know you went out with him?” He asked angrily.

“He’s my brother not my dad.” She remarked sarcastically.

Killian shook his head in annoyance. “Stay away from Ozman.”

“You aren’t my keeper, either.” She glared.

“Look I don’t give a fuck who you date, but even you should have some sort of standard, love.”

She blew out an annoying sigh. “You’re gonna talk to me about standards. Which bimbo were you with tonight?”

“At least I didn’t need to call in a favor in order to escape from my date.” He glared, stepping toward her. “It’s all just a big game to you isn’t it? Emma’s reckless dating game.”

“Oh, go to hell, Jones.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Ozman’s bad news, Swan. Stay away from him.”

Emma frowned, she knew tonight was bad, her senses had been tingling the moment Walsh drove them back to his place, but Killian Jones was the last person she wanted giving her advice about dating. “Like you stayed away from Milah?” She spat and he stepped back on his heels.

“You know what, Swan, fuck you.”

“You wish.” She shot back.

He stepped into her space, the blue of his eyes almost a darkened black as he stared into her. “Not if you were the last piece of ass on earth.” He narrowed his eyes. “Besides, I don’t do blondes.”

“Please, you couldn’t handle it.”

“Perhaps you’re the one who couldn’t handle it.” He dared as his eyes danced angrily.

Emma squared her shoulders, meeting his eyes in defiance. “You are the biggest asshole I have ever met.”

“Do me a favor, the next time your date turns out to be a dick, call a cab.” He slammed his helmet on his head, mounting his bike and speeding off into the dark.

~*~

Emma pushed the silver stick into her curls, the round pearl sitting on top of one of her golden tresses tucked against her head. She stood back, admiring herself in the mirror. At least the dress didn’t have ruffles, she thought, examining the light pink fabric swishing around her legs.

She heard fussing behind her and turned to see Mary Margaret tugging at her dress. “Stop that. You’re going to rip it.”

“God I’m so nervous.” Her friend said anxiously.

“It’s just David.” She laughed. “And you really like David.”

The ceremony was beautiful, Emma barely registered the look of disdain from Killian as he stood on the other side of her brother, his eyes staring a hole into her head. She returned his glance more than once, defiance in her eyes as she dared him to look away.

She didn’t have time for whatever had crawled up Killian’s ass and pissed him off. She was just happy for her brother and her best friend.

Sitting at the table, she quickly finished her first glass of wine, an injection of courage or tolerance for her upcoming dance with the man who had more than once caused her grief already this evening. The clanging of glasses pulled her from her thoughts as Killian stood beside her brother, raising his glass for his toast.

“David has always been a brother to me, someone I trusted with my life, which was probably good since we seemed to find ourselves in peril many times in college.” Her brother laughed and his wife elbowed him playfully. “David and I were doing quite well on our own, in college we were Gods.” He said, extending his arms wide. Emma rolled her eyes. “When I first met Mary, I knew those days would soon be over.” He smiled at her new sister-in-law. “I tried to be angry about it, but the damned woman is a marvel.” He smiled at her friend. “Who could be angry when your best friend finds the love of his life?” Killian raised his glass, his eyes momentarily locking with hers, the hair on her neck standing on end for a moment. “To finding the love of your life.” He placed his glass to his lips and sipped, glancing down at his brother and Mary Margaret as they toasted each other.

Emma shook off the odd sensation forming in her gut, looking away from Killian to collect her thoughts before it was her turn to speak.

“See he’s not such a bad guy.” Her friend whispered in her ear. “That was quite lovely.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “Anyone can say nice words after a few drinks.” She teased as she stood from her seat. “Well, I’m not sure I can follow such a moving speech.” She said sarcastically, a small smirk on her lips as Killian’s eyes met hers. “I grew up my whole life around boys.” She smiled. “My brother and his friends tortured me endlessly.” David winked at Killian. “When I met Mary Margaret, I thought…finally, finally I have an ally.” She laughed. “Turns out she wasn’t just the person I needed to find, more than a sister I could share my secrets with, she was also destined to find her true love, with the man who would permanently make us sisters. I couldn’t have hoped for a better person for my brother, I hope you are both happy for the rest of your lives, no one deserves it more.”

Emma leaned over and hugged her friend. “I guess I have to share her now.” She laughed as her brother stood and hugged her.

The lights dimmed as the dancing began, she watched her brother and her best friend take to the floor arm in arm, a beautiful first dance as man and wife. When she heard her name announced over the speaker she stood and sighed, looking over at the man on the other end of the table.

“Come, love.” He held out his arm and she brushed past him, ignoring his gesture and storming toward the dance floor, turning once she reached the edge of the floor.

“Let’s get this over with already, Jones.” She complained with her arms crossed against her chest.

“As you wish.” He groaned, pulling her into his arms. “Relax, love. This doesn’t have to be painful.” He rolled his eyes.

“Trust me, it’s already painful.” He wrapped his arm around her waist and Emma felt the warmth as he pulled her against his chest.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head, I’m actually an excellent dancer.” He said with a smirk. “Unlike your two left feet.” He looked down between them as she tripped over his shoes.

“Whatever, dancing is stupid.”

“Dancing is simple, there’s only one rule, pick a partner who knows what he’s doing.” He guided her around the dance floor, nodding to her brother as he glided them past the couple dancing in the center. Emma tried to ignore the way it felt being held by Killian Jones, the man who had brought her nothing but anger and annoyance for years.

She watched the way his eyes flitted around the room, never landing on hers, almost as if he were purposely avoiding her gaze, yet the hand at her waist firmly gripped her, fingers hot against the flesh at her back. She wasn’t sure if it was the dance or his touch that was causing her body to overheat. When the song ended she stepped away from him quickly. “I need a drink.”

“Aye.” He responded. “I think I’ll join you in that.”

She expected to hate his company, to find him his usual abhorrent self, but the festivities seemed to have him in a mood that was at least tolerable. The next hour was spent taking turns downing as many shots as they could handle, almost as if they were challenging the other to stop. When Emma took her last shot, she felt the world around the man in front of her blur. Blue eyes swirling in her vision. “I uh need…” She placed her hand at his chest as she tried to stop the world from spinning.

“What do you need, Emma.” He asked, his voice deep and full of innuendo as the corner of his mouth turned upward in a smirk. Emma could feel herself leaning toward him. His tongue darted out to wet his lips and Emma felt the urge to pull his mouth to hers.

“Bathroom, I need a bathroom.” She stuttered, slipping off her stool and stumbling quickly away from the man at the bar who’s eyes she felt still on her as she turned the corner.

She stood in front of the mirror staring at her blurry reflection. “He’s Killian Jones. Asshole extraordinaire.” She warned herself. “Even you don’t need to get laid that badly.” Sure, it had been a few years since she’d had a really good orgasm given to her from anyone besides herself, but whatever Killian Jones could provide her would not be worth the headache it would cause later. Squaring her shoulders, she splashed water on her face and reentered the reception hall.

As she turned the corner she saw her brother standing next to Killian, lost in conversation. As she got closer to them, she could hear their voices.

“Come on man, I’ve seen the way you look at Emma.”

“Piss off, she’s a pain in the arse. I only think of her as an annoying child. She’s never been anything but trouble.”

“So that’s why you’ve always been the one to run to her aid whenever she finds that trouble?”

“Twice. I’ve only done that twice.”

Emma furrowed her brow. Twice, she could only remember one time he had come to her aid, the night with Walsh.

“Yeah well if it wasn’t for you she might still be with that asshole, Cassidy.”

Cassidy? Emma thought. That didn’t make any sense. Killian barely even acknowledge Neal much less assisted her with anything when it came to him. Suddenly her brother noticed her approaching and he patted Killian on the shoulder. “Well, I better get back to my wife.” He said with a bow, leaving Killian at the counter. As he passed he nodded in her direction. “Don’t drink too much, sis.” He teased.

Killian turned toward her as she approached. Emma sat down at the counter, picking up her glass and downing the liquid before turning toward him.

“What do you think happened to Walsh?” She asked suddenly.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Walsh, you know that guy I went out with right out of high school.”

“Why the fuck do you care what happened to him, please tell me you aren’t interested in reacquainting yourself with him?”

“I dunno, I guess I’m just being a bit introspective seeing as we’re at a wedding and I’m still not married.”

“Trust me, you didn’t want to marry a guy like Walsh Ozman.”

“I bet he’s got a shit ton of money now.” She laughed.

“Never known you to give a fuck about money, Swan.”

“I was always curious, but I never asked. What didyou say to him after I left the house that night?”

She recognized the obvious flinch, but he refused to look at her. “What?”

“To Walsh? You stayed in there for a while after I left, what did you say to him, cuz anytime he saw me on campus after that night, he ran the other direction.”

He laughed nervously and took a drink of his beer. “I don’t remember.” He deflected.

“Bullshit.” Emma spat and Killian pulled his drink from his lips.

“Perhaps I told him that it was in his best interest to forget your number.”

“Interesting…”

“Not sure if it was interesting, but he forgot it, didn’t he?” He said with a tap of his bottle against hers.

“So, that’s it huh, you told him to forget my number and he did? I don’t believe you.”

He chuckled his usual sarcastic laugh, the one that got under her skin when he didn’t want to deal with her. “Why not?”

“Because I think you said something to him, to scare him, which doesn’t make any sense to me at all.”

“The guy was a creep, Swan. You weren’t the first college student he had harassed, manhandled, or worse.” He added softly, a look of seriousness suddenly settling over him.

She shrugged. “Like you cared what happened to me anyway.”

“You were David’s baby sister, I couldn’t exactly let anything happen to you, he’d never forgive me.”

“So, you were looking out for Dave?” She hiccupped, the alcohol was really starting to go to her head.

“Look, it’s not my fault you kept calling me in the middle of the bloody night when you found yourself with irreputable men.”

“Kept calling?” She laughed. “I only called you once.” He paused as if he had said something he hadn’t meant to, taking another gulp of his drink, and turning away from her. She narrowed her eyes in his direction. “Killian, I only called you once.” She repeated.

He reached around the bar, grabbing a bottle of rum from under the counter and sliding off his stool. “I’m beat. Enjoy your evening, Swan.” She watched as he walked away from her, the bottle hanging from the hand at his side as he walked slowly toward the elevators.

Emma wandered lazily toward her friend, her feet felt heavy, her arms slightly numb. “There you are.” She said as Emma plopped down in the seat beside her.

“Was it everything you hoped for?” She tried not to slur her words.

“And more. But something tells me you’re having more fun than me.” She giggled and Emma held up her beer in a toast to her friend before taking another drink.

“Are you still drinking?” Emma looked up to see her brother approach.

“Don’t lecture me, dad.” She joked.

“Very funny, but you should probably slow down.” He sat down next to her. “Where did Killian go?”

“Probably drowning himself in his bottle of rum.” She laughed. She turned toward her brother. “Can I ask you something?”

He laughed, “You just did.”

“Whatever happened with Neal?”

He frowned, “Why are we talking about that asshole on my wedding night?”

“I don’t know, alcohol makes me nostalgic.” She shrugged. “I was just curious, you know, what happened to him after that night.”

“Which night?”

“You know that night.” She raised her eyebrow. “After I called you.”

“Emma, the last time I saw that idiot, was when you left on that trip to Tallahassee. I was so happy you came back alone, that I never wanted to ask you what went down.”

“Stop playing around, I called you, I told you where Neal was, and you sent me that cab to take me home and Neal never bothered me again.”

His brow raised and Emma could see he was considering his words. “Emma, I can honestly say I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Then who sent the cab?”

~*~

5 years ago

“Neal, what’s in the bag?”

“Stop asking questions, dammit.” He shouted and Emma flinched.

“I just don’t understand what we’re doing.”

He advanced on her before he paused. “Look Ems, I just need you to do what I tell you. Can you do that?”

Emma shook her head anxiously. “Yeah, fine.”

“Good.” He brushed his hand against her hair before he fisted it into her locks, tugging her head backward. “And don’t question me again.” Her heart raced when his mouth attacked her neck, biting at her flesh before he tossed her back against the floor. “Now put the bag under the bed. I’m gonna grab us some food. Don’t fucking touch anything.” She shook her head nervously as she watched him rummage through his drawer, tucking something in the back of his pants before turning back to face her.

“How long are you going to be gone?”

“What did I just say?” He groaned. “Look, I’ll be back when I get back.” He yanked her off the floor by her arm, pain searing at her shoulder.

“That hurts.” She cried out before his hand cracked against her cheek.

“Just do what I told you to do, dammit.” Suddenly his face softened, and he pulled her closer to him. “I’m sorry baby, don’t make me do that again, ok, I don’t like having to hit you.”

“I’m sorry.” She answered quickly, rubbing her palm on her cheek.

“Be a good girl, I’ll be back soon.”

Emma stared at the bag on the bed for what felt like hours, debating whether to open it and look inside. She knew the moment she did, it would be the moment it all became real, she would have to make a choice. She walked closer to the bed, staring back at the door. She took another step before reaching for the bag, tugging at the zipper, and yanking it open.

“Shit.” She cursed to herself, staring down at the bundles of money, red stains on a few of them, gold watches littered between the bills. She reached in and moved the bundles around until she felt the cold butt of a gun. She was in over her head. She wasn’t aware of what Neal had been doing at each of the stops on their trip, but now she had a pretty good idea. She couldn’t live like this, it wasn’t her. She had thought that when Neal told her he wanted to start a new life with her in Tallahassee that he was done with all the petty thief stuff. All these months, she convinced herself he would change for her, that if she loved him, that it would be enough. But as she stood in the room, a pile of cash in a bag, blood smeared in Neal’s fingerprints on the bills, it was never going to be enough.

She picked up the phone and dialed her brother’s number. She needed to tell him before she chickened out. The moment the phone picked up she started talking, desperate to tell him everything.

“David, I need your help. I’ve screwed up. I know I told you that Neal had changed, that he was legit, but I’m in trouble. Neal…he…I need to get away from him now. I’m at a hotel in Florida and I’m scared. I’ll send you the address, but I need your help, please I…I just want to come home, I’m so sorry.” She sobbed.

“Emma…”

“Don’t talk, I don’t want to hear the disappointment in your voice. I’ll send you the info, I’ll change, I promise, it’s over with him, I…I promise. Just get me home and we never have to talk about Neal Cassidy again.”

She hung up the phone and waited until there was a honk outside the hotel. She peered out the window to see a cab waiting. She grabbed her stuff and ran through the door, never looking back.

~*~

Emma stood in front of the large ornate door, Room 515. Her head was still spinning when she pounded on the wooden frame. She stood impatiently until it flung open, Killian Jones stood in front of her, his hair a mess, wearing only a pair of boxers and a white t-shirt. “Couldn’t stop thinking of me, eh Swan?” He jeered; the half drank bottle of rum in his hand.

“Tallahassee.” She said firmly, pushing past him as she entered his room.

“Do come in.” He groaned as she heard the door shut behind her. “What do you want?”

“I know it was you that I talked to you that night, but how?”

He shook his head as if trying to clear the cobwebs or something. “Sorry, lass, I’m not following, what night?”

“I called David from my hotel room that night, but he swears he never talked to me. Yet someone sent me a cab, someone got me home.”

He shrugged. “Haven’t the foggiest idea what you’re on about, love.”

“Bullshit.” She stepped toward him. “Tonight, you said I kept calling you in the middle of the night, but I only called you once, because of Walsh.”

“I must have misspoken.” He shrugged, tossing himself down on his bed as he sat on the end of the mattress.

“I can tell you’re lying.” She glared as he reached up and touched the tip of his ear with his finger. “There. You do that thing with your ear when you’re either lying or nervous.”

“You’ve barge in my room in the middle of the night, interrupt my solitude, and start accusing me of lying about sending a cab to some damn hotel room in the middle of podunk Woodville, Florida, you can’t blame me for being foggy.”

Emma flinched and her eyes sought his from across the room. “I didn’t say where I was staying. I just said Tallahassee. How did you know the hotel was in Woodville?”

He shrugged, “I’m drunk lass, lucky guess.”

“I knew it was you.” She exclaimed.

“Fine, you caught me, I sent you a fucking cab, but to be fair you’re the one who told me not to talk that night.”

“But I called David, I know I did.”

He chuckled. “Aye, you did, but he was passed out drunk that night.”

“You never told him what I said on that call? Why?”

He laughed loudly. “Figured he didn’t need to know what his baby sister had gotten herself into, seeing as you were telling me you were done with it, I didn’t see the point. As long as Neal was out of the picture, it wasn’t necessary to break his heart.”

“So, you sent a cab, and just brought me home, no questions asked.”

“Aye.” He still wasn’t making eye contact with her. He wasn’t telling her the full story, she knew it.

“So, David never talked to Neal then.” She paced the room in front of him. “But Neal knew where I was, and yet he never came after…”

“He damn well better not have, I swore I’d tear him apart with my own hands.” Killian growled and Emma felt the room spin slightly.

“What did you just say?”

“That dumb fuck tried to square up to me like I couldn’t beat his ass, I swear he cried when I burned that fucking cash in front of him.” He swirled the bottle in his hands before tipping it back again to down the liquid.

“You came to Florida?”

He looked up and bit his lip. “I uh…What?”

“You just said you burned his cash, the cash was in Florida, in the hotel.”

“It’s late, I’m drunk, I think…” Emma walked over and grabbed the bottle out of his hand, throwing it across the room as it smashed into the wall, liquid and glass exploding at the contact. “What the bloody hell…”

“Tell me the truth.” She yelled. “Did you go to Florida?”

“Of course, I went to Florida, who else was going to keep that bastard from coming after you?” He stood up, staring at her as he shouted, and Emma felt her cheeks flush.

“But why?”

“Because he touched you. I saw it, the bruise on your cheek, you think I was just going to let him hit you and walk away?”

Emma sucked in her breath. “How, how did you know that?”

“I needed to make sure you got home. I waited outside your apartment, I saw the cab arrive, watched you get out. As soon as I saw your face, I knew he needed to be stopped.” He walked toward her. “So yeah, I went to Florida, to the address you had me send that cab to. Asshole was still there, waiting for you to come back.” Emma couldn’t believe what she was hearing, all these years she thought David had helped her out of the situation and then did as she said, and never spoke about it again.

“You burned his cash?”

“Enough to tell him I was serious. If he ever came back for you, if he so much as tried to contact you…”

She stepped backwards, but he followed her until her back hit the wall, his eyes staring into hers. “Why? Why did you care at all about Neal?”

“I didn’t give a fuck about Neal.” He yelled, as he placed his hands on either side of her head, leaning toward her. “Don’t you get it Emma. It was you. It was always you.”

His mouth was on hers in an instant and Emma could barely catch up to the fact he was kissing her, Killian Jones was kissing her. She should be repulsed but in the moment all she could feel was the heat of his body pressed against hers, his fingers gripping her hair, pulling her against his mouth as her entire body hummed in excitement.

Without a second thought she pushed back, her hands against his chest, fisting in his t-shirt, her head falling back as his mouth explored her neck. She could barely contain the moan as his tongue slid against her jaw. She didn’t registered the moment they both stumbled across the room, his hands at her back, clawing at the zipper low on her hips. When they tripped against the bed, the straps of her gown pulled down her body, he stared at her with eager eyes. Emma couldn’t believe this was happening, things weren’t making sense. All these years, all the anger toward each other, the teasing, the torment, suddenly they couldn’t keep their hands off each other.

He was Killian Jones. The man who had tormented her thoughts for years, Killian Jones, the man who had come to her rescue the night with Walsh, who had also apparently saved her from a terrible mistake with Neal. She was confused, overwhelmed, and incredibly horny, she realized.

“Swan…” His voice vibrated against her ear. “I think we should…”

Emma pulled away from him, looking at him as he swayed in front of her. “What?”

“I’m fuck as drunk.” He laughed. “Aaand, I’m pretty sure you’re having a difficult time standing on your own right now.”

“Wait a minute?” She said incredulously. “The Killian Jones, sex God extraordinaire is saying he’s too drunk to fuck?”

“Sex God?” He laughed. “Ok I don’t know who you’ve been talking to, but anyway…I’m just saying…maybe we need to hit pause; besides I can’t exactly feel my lower half.” He stepped back, looking down at his boxers. “And I think I need to sit down.” He stumbled backward until his legs hit the bed, falling over until he was lying on his back.

“Seriously?” Emma sighed, watching as the man stilled, soft sounds of snoring filling the room. Maybe it was for the best, it’s not like it was smart for her and Killian to sleep together. She was Emma Nolan and he was Killian Jones, enemies since childhood. One drunken night couldn’t change that. Perhaps he was right, she needed to go back to her room, get some sleep, and wake up with a clear head before she made a mistake she wouldn’t be able take back.

~*~

She woke to a banging on her door that wouldn’t stop. “Good God.” She groaned, sitting up in her bed and stumbling toward the door. She yanked it open and stared angrily at whoever was making the noise.

“You look like shit, Swan.” Killian smiled at her in a way that no man who drank a bottle of rum should be smiling at a person, at whatever time it currently was in the morning.

“What do you want?”

“Brought you breakfast, figured you might need some dry toast.” He held up the white bag in his hands and she dropped her arm, letting him enter her room.

“Why are you so cheerful this morning, you drank half the bar last night.”

“I guess I hold my liquor better than you.”

“Why does everyone say that? Besides, I’m pretty sure I’m the one who left you passed out in your bed last night.”

“Ah, that.” He shrugged. “Perhaps that was for the best.”

She stared at him, watching as he looked everywhere around the room except for at her, avoiding her eyes. “Maybe.” She opened the bag and pulled out the toast, taking a bite and swallowing before speaking again. “Did you threaten Walsh also?” She asked with a shrug.

“Are we back to a Q&A session, Swan? What does it even matter?”

“Because it doesn’t make sense. You hated me, you used to tease me mercilessly. You never even called me by my first name, making up that stupid Swan shit when I turned 13. So why, why would you care at all about my relationships?”

He exhaled loudly. “You want to know why I call you Swan?”

“You already told me that a long time ago, it was because I had a long stupid neck.”

He laughed. “You believed that shit?”

“Why wouldn’t I? You said it to my face.”

“I thought you could tell when I was lying.” He chuckled.

“Then why? Why do you call me that?” She asked in frustration.

“Because right before my eyes, you had grown into the most beautiful creature I had ever laid eyes on. You went from this silly little girl in pigtails and braces to this gorgeous beautiful swan I couldn’t keep my eyes off of.”

Emma’s world stopped. “What? No…that’s...”

“Crazy? Yeah well, I’ve been crazy about you for as long as I can remember, so welcome to my world.”

She laughed loudly. “You had a funny way of showing it, between the redheads, the brunettes, the…”

“But never blonde.” He added seriously.

“That’s not true, there had to be one or two that were…” She stopped and thought about the women that Killian had dated throughout the years, were there really no blondes?

“They wouldn’t have been you.” He answered the question she didn’t dare say out loud.

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” She implored.

“You had a type, usually idiotic moron, but it was still a type. Who was I to interfere with your ridiculous choices? Besides, you were my best friend’s little sister.” He paused before taking a step closer to her. “Would it have mattered if I did?”

Emma felt her heart skip as he stared down at her, her legs suddenly feeling unstable. “I don’t know…you’ve always just been David’s annoying friend.”

“Always?” He asked as his brow rose. “So, you never thought about it, you and I? Not even late at night, when you were alone…” His voice reverberated in her mind.

“No, of course not?” She laughed, the sound getting caught in her throat the moment his hand touched her cheek.

“Are you quite certain about that, love?”

“I…I don’t know.” Her mouth was dry as she thought back on her life, she had always found Killian attractive, and he found a way to get under her skin more times than she cared to admit, but there had been times when she was alone, times when she thought about the man in front of her in ways she knew she could never act on. She had always passed the feelings off as just needing to get laid. He was gorgeous after all, no one would deny that. “Maybe if you weren’t always such an ass all…”

Her words died in her throat the moment his mouth was on her neck, his hands at her waist pulling her against him. “You were saying…” She felt the arrogant smirk against her skin.

“You’re an ass.” She groaned, letting her hands slide against his neck as he continued to pepper kisses along her jaw until their lips met in a fiery explosion. She had to admit in the light of day, without the alcohol fogging her brain, that kissing Killian Jones was an entirely different yet exciting experience. It was like her body craved him in ways she had never admitted even in the darkness of her own solitude.

Tiny details suddenly came to life in her brain, the way he looked at her the night he came to get her at Walsh’s. Protective, possessive, almost feral, because of her.

Emma pulled him closer to her, desperately tugging at his hair to bring him closer, as he intoxicated her every sense. Emma had to admit she had wondered what kissing Killian was like, had thought about what his mouth could do, but experiencing it was a whole different thing. She felt his hands at her hips, fingers slipping under her shirt as his palm met skin searing a warm trail that caused her flesh to pebble under his touch.

As if a sudden desperation overtook her, she found herself gripping his shirt, pushing it up his chest as she explored the hair hidden beneath with her fingertips. “Perhaps you’ve imagined it a few times.” He teased, pushing her pajama bottoms over her hips, shoving them toward the ground.

“Shut up and take this off already.” She growled as he pulled his shirt over his head. Emma gulped, staring at his chest. She had obviously not spent enough time admiring this man for all his glory.

“Impatient, love?”

“Just curious if you live up to your reputation.” She teased.

“I can assure you; you won’t be disappointed.”

“That’s a mighty large assurance, considering I’m used to being disappointed.” She tore the button to his pants open, hoping to speed up the situation.

“As I said love, you have terrible taste in men, but I don’t intend to let you down.” He threw her bra behind her, his mouth suddenly pressing against one of her mounds, his tongue darting out to flick against her pert nipple.

“Oh God.” She cried out at the contact. “My taste in men has led me to this, so perhaps you have a point.” She groaned.

“Perhaps this is the first good choice you’ve made in a while.” His slid down her body his tongue tracing a line down her stomach, poking at her navel as he slid her panties down her body.

“We’ll see about that.” She said before moaning when his tongue slid closer to the area she needed him. “Fuck.” She growled looking down at him as he stared up at her.

“Something you want, Swan?”

“How can you be so irritating and yet so…” She clenched her teeth as he stood, pulling her naked toward the bed and sitting her on the mattress.

“So…?” He pressed her to continue as she lay back on the mattress. “Irritating yet devilishly handsome?” He smirked before settling between her legs. “I am quite dashing, aren’t I.” He pressed a kiss to her thigh.

“I’m going to be dashing you right out of this room if you don’t…” The heat of his tongue against her center caused her head to fall back and the words to die in her throat. She ignored the smirk she could feel form on his lips, he had a right to be cocky with the expertise use of his tongue that had set her on fire.

When his fingers slipped inside of her, hitting the spot she so desperately needed, she reached down and gripped his hair, pulling him against her until she felt the feeling build, an explosion unlike any she had experienced before, causing her to scream out, his name escaping from her lips before she could stop it.

He glanced up at her with a look that told her he knew how good he was, he was confident in his ability, she would give him that. “Holy shit.” She said breathlessly.

“Perhaps all you really needed was one really great orgasm to unwind that…”

“Are you going to just talk the whole time or?” He slid up her body, his mouth devouring every inch of skin he passed until she felt like she was ready to pass out again.

Why did he have to be so goddamn talented with that mouth of his? Because why wouldn’t Killian Jones, the man who could work her into such an angry frenzy that it left her shaking in frustration, be the same one who could give her the best damn orgasm she had ever had in her life.

Killian fucking Jones, she thought as she felt his erection against her thigh. He hesitated and she opened her eyes to see his trepidation. “You don’t happen to be carrying a condom with you, do you?”

Emma laughed. “Don’t you carry one everywhere you go? My brother always told me you were the…what did he call it?”

He rolled his eyes. “The Saint of…”

“Sexual preparation…yes that’s it.” She finished smugly. “Always prepared, like a boy scout.”

He groaned in frustration. “If you must know, it’s been a while, love.”

“I have a hard time believing that.” She snorted. “But since I’ve known you for almost my entire life, and since I’m protected already…”

“Look at this face, have I ever lied to you?”

She took in the sincerity in his crystal blue eyes, the genuine smile spread across his lips, and she was taken aback suddenly by the situation she was in. Lying naked in a bed with Killian Jones, a man she had known almost her entire life. Suddenly the entire thing felt safe to her, she had never had that before with a man, trust had been rare in her life.

Killian had been many things to her, an enemy, her brother’s best friend, but one thing he had never been, was a liar. In fact, she now realized that he had protected her all those years. All the times he had made comments about her reckless behavior with a man wasn’t because he found her annoying, or because he didn’t like her, in fact, he said them out of concern for her wellbeing. It was all overwhelming to think back and realize that perhaps his behavior was out of jealousy instead of disregard.

“Are you with me, love?”

Emma looked at the man staring at her with concern in his eyes. Lifting her head, she pressed her lips to his, a soft kiss that meant so much more to her that she could have thought. She was here, with him, in every way that mattered. Suddenly she wanted so much more than just knowing what it was like to have sex with Killian Jones, she wanted to be with Killian Jones.

She pulled back, staring in his eyes. “I’m right here.” She whispered. He dipped his head, their lips touching once more, but this time there was an urgency, a need that he returned with such emotion it overwhelmed her.

In one motion, he slid inside of her, filling her in a way she had never experienced before. She felt connected, not only by their bodies but by the way he was watching her, his eyes soft yet intense, never leaving her own with each thrust. It was as if suddenly his mouth stopped speaking but he was still saying so much.

He would always be there for her, protecting her, caring for her. She knew it somehow, could feel it in the way he moved. How had she not seen it all this time?

“Emma…” He whispered her name like a prayer in the air, so reverent as if it was the most valued word he had ever spoken in his life. She could feel the crescendo building inside of her with each heavy thrust, as his body glided against hers giving her all the friction she needed to reach the level she was seeking.

“Oh God…” She moaned, her body starting to shake as his mouth pressed against her ear.

“Come with me Emma…” His voice, full of sincerity, laced with pure desire was the only sound she needed to guide her to the high she so desperately sought. Her body tensed as she gripped him, her teeth grazing the flesh at his shoulder as he moaned her name over and over until they both had stilled, exhausted, and completely sated.

“Well, that was…” She paused with a sly smile. “Unexpectedly better than I imagined.”

“Why Swan, I thought you never imagined…” he smirked, causing her to shove him backwards on the bed, climbing onto his waist as she looked down at him.

“Are you going to continue being this cocky, or…”

“Have you ever known me to be any other way?” His brow rose playfully.

She rolled her eyes, leaning over to place her lips against his mouth, the heat between her legs already pooling in anticipation of repeating the act they had just completed.

Suddenly the door to her room swung open and Emma’s eyes widened as she flung herself onto the mattress, pulling the covers over their bodies.

“Emma…David and I were just…”

“Mary has a key to your room?” Killian asked with a groan. “Good to know.” His voice trailed off.

“I get locked out a lot…” She could hear her friend’s voice getting closer as she approached them and she threw the covers over Killian’s head the moment her friend entered the room, she sat up suddenly. “Are you still in bed?” Her friend exclaimed. “Check out is in two hours!”

Emma forced a yawn. “Not everyone gets up with the birds, M’s.”

“Not everyone drank as much as you did either…”

“Hey, he’s not in his room either.” Emma groaned as her brother’s voice sounded at the door, entering her room. “You’re still in bed? Check out is in 2 hours, I don’t want to get charged for another day because you sleep past noon.” He paused, looking around her room. “Jesus, did you have a party in here?”

“Hey, you know, this is real fun, but I haven’t even had my breakfast yet so…”

“Oh, right.” Her friend said excitedly. “I was just dropping off your key so you can water the plants while we’re gone. Killian will have a key too so I hope the two of you can watch the place without killing each other or burning our house down.”

“Great. Ok then, have a good trip.” Emma tried to rush the conversation. Her brother was already staring at her when suddenly his face drained of color.

“We should um…yeah…perhaps we should leave, darling.” He took his wife by the hand. “I think Emma would prefer to spend her morning doing other activities.” He winked and Emma died a little inside, but not nearly as much as when she felt Killian’s hand trail up her thigh. She jumped with a loud squeak.

“Other activities, she’s still in bed, David…” Emma squeezed her eyes shut.

“Yes, and from the looks of things, she was quite enjoying that.”

Emma tossed a pillow toward her brother. “Get out.”

“I don’t…” Her friend’s eyes widened. “Oh my God.” She scanned the bed, finally taking notice of the extra bump in the bed. “Good for you Emma, I know it’s been a while…” She said with a happy whisper but not quite low enough that the sentence was not heard by Killian whom she felt pinch the inside of her thigh. She leaned over onto him, driving her elbow into his chest causing him to grunt loudly through the comforter.

David dragged his wife toward the door, despite her desire to stay and discuss this new revelation with Emma. She gestured toward her as she was leaving. “Call me…” She giggled before David stopped in his tracks, staring at something on the floor. His mouth turned up in a grin before he looked back at Emma.

“Hey uh, you haven’t seen Killian have you?” He sang with a devilish smile.

“Have you tried the bar?” Another pinch to the inside of her thigh. “Ouch.” She exclaimed loudly as her brother continued to stare at her.

“Ok well, I’ll leave his key here.” He held the key up in his hand, dropping it on the table by the dresser.

“Sounds great, not sure when I’ll see him, but you know, I can take care of the place on my own anyway.” She smiled.

“Yeah, ok, well when you see him, you might want to let him know that the hotel has been trying to contact him. Apparently someone ran over his bike in the parking lot.”

“Bloody hell.” Killian exclaimed loudly from under the blankets and Emma groaned as her brother’s knowing smile grew on his face. “How bad is it?” Killian emerged from the comforter and Mary Margaret’s mouth opened wide.

“Oh God.” Emma squeezed her eyes shut.

“Anyway…” David continued with a grin, “See you when we get back. You and I need to have a little conversation about your intentions with my sister.” He warned with a wink, dragging Mary Margaret from the room, questions flying from her mouth until the door shut behind them.

“Oh God.” Emma sunk down into the bed, pulling the covers over her head.

“Do you think he was serious about my bike?”

Emma yanked the covers away, staring at Killian. “That’s what you took away from that entire situation?”

“Do you know how much I paid for that bloody thing?” He exclaimed. “He was joking right?”

“You don’t care that David and M’s just walked in on us, that they know that we had sex?”

He shrugged. “No, David thought we had sex years ago.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“He figured that was the reason you were always so hostile toward me.” He grinned and Emma’s mouth opened and closed like a fish trying to breathe.

“I was hostile to you?” She asked incredulously. “I’m pretty sure it was the other way around, you used to pull on my hair.”

He rolled over on top of her. “Because I thought you were adorable when you were mad. Your ears get red and…”

“Are you serious right now? You were trying to make me mad?”

“Let’s be honest love, it wasn’t a difficult task.” Emma’s eyes widened but he cut off her response with a kiss that removed all other thoughts from her mind. His body pressed against hers in all the right places, making her ache to feel him inside her again.

She squealed. “Check out is in…”

“I don’t bloody care when check out is.”

“If my brother finds out you made him pay for an additional day in the room to fuck his sister, he might…” Killian groaned, rolling over and pulling the sheets from her naked body. Emma frowned. “Where are you going?”

“Get up, we’re leaving.”

“What? But I didn’t even eat my breakfast…”

He threw her clothes at her, a pile landing on her head and around her body. “Let’s go love, lots to do. Plants to water, rooms to explore.”

“What are you talking about?”

He leaned over, pressing his lips to her neck. “Are you always going to be this gloriously impossible?”

She melted into his touch, the feeling of his hot breath against her ear. “Have you ever known me to be any other way?” She purred.

“I’ll take you any way I can get you, Swan.” He growled in her ear, and she felt her entire body shiver, pressing her legs together to calm the aching need that was growing.

“How fast can you drive?” She asked, meeting blue eyes filled with as much desire as she was feeling.

“Depends on whether or not my bike is destroyed in the parking lot because that bug of yours won’t make it home before dinner.” She slapped his arm playfully, before he captured her lips with his, causing her heart to speed up.

“We’re not really going to defile my brother’s house are we?” He bit his lip, staring at her with eyes that made her entire body quiver. Hell, she’d let him take her right on the bike outside the hotel if he kept looking at her like that. “Fuck it, I think we still have time before check out.”

He had her on her back before she could finish her sentence.

By the time David got the bill for 3 extra days at the hotel, Emma and Killian had become inseparable. They still fought, and he still got on her nerves at least twice a day, but there was no one that had her back the way he did.

In fact, Emma was sure that she would never find another man who loved her as fiercely as Killian Jones.