#now someone send me a bag of courage I need it

[i-can-even-burn-salad]

Result of this round:

I'm happy with it :)

I removed a bit over 2000 words including one scene, I sprinkled in a generous amount of chronic pain, and I fixed 3 small and one even smaller issues; like mentioning in one scene [name] stopped her on her way to her room, which is where she killed him, but in another scene, his blood is on the floor in his room. Nono, can't have that.

All in all, I left 300 notes for me to fix, from changing a single word to a whole paragraph to adding (or removing) a detail, and after that I did two overused-word-hunting-passes, leading to the elimination of a mixed bag of around 100 "still" and "something". I know there are more words I overuse, but I am tired now.

I'm not super happy with all of the chapter titles, but there are some I really love. One of my favorites:

I put it into a test layout, and atm we're at 410 pages :)

This round's goal:

- kill 500 words

- add more pain

- add more nightmares

[swordsandholly]

Cherry Bomb - tattoo parlor anthology

MDNI | poly 141 x fem fat reader | masterlist

cw: menstruation (not graphic), afab anatomy

Part 4: “Girl Problems”

You shift in the office chair, stomach lurching uncomfortably. It’s been bothering you today - groaning and moaning nonstop. So far you blamed it on the suspicious chicken salad you got from the discount grocery store. You took every stomach soother you could, all the way down to chugging tea on the hottest day of spring so far.

With a rather pathetic groan you stand to meander your way to the bathroom. Surely sitting on the pot will help - at least as a placebo. Just as you do, though, a very distinct wet feeling makes itself known. You freeze, briefly, as if it will go away if you stand still enough.

“Ah, fuck!” You gasp, grabbing your purse and jogging down the hall to the single bath stall and popping the lock shut.

As soon as you sit, you let out a small sigh of relief. At least you caught it before you turned your underwear into a total crime scene. You’d rather not have to explain to John why you need to go home and change. You dig through your bag to your usual pocket of various supplies. From lotion to a sewing kit. It never hurts to be prepared.

Except, as you rifle around, you’re not finding your usual stash. There should be at least three in here… when did-?

The very loud, distinct memory of a girl at a bar stopping you while canvassing for some sanitary products hits you like a train.

“Whatever you’ve got I’ll take.” She practically begged. So, you handed them all over because got forbid someone get stranded during the most hellish week of the month. Like you are now.

You make a deep, frustrated noise in your throat and bury your face in your hands. You’ve been meaning to put a basket of backup wipes, pads, and tampons in the little bathroom cabinet - not just for you but for customers, too. It just kept getting pushed off when you got busy with other things.

Shit. What are you gonna do? If you put your pants back on you’ll just bleed through them in ten minutes. Cursed with a heavy flow (or blessed with a strong connection to the moon, as your former hippie roommate insisted.) Less time than that, probably, based on the vicious cramp that travels from your lower back to pelvis. You won’t be able to get to the corner store with out leaving a war crime in your path.

John’s the only person in the studio right now. He doesn’t have a client for another hour or so but you’d rather die than tell your hot boss you’re bleeding everywhere. For a few, quiet moments, you violently bounce your knee and go through every possibility. Maybe you’ll suddenly turn into the flash and you can get home before anyone even notices. You don’t really have much of a choice, do you?

With another groan you pull your phone from your pocket, thumb hovering over his contact for just a few beats too long while you work up the courage.

>> ok so this is terrible

>> im so sorry

>> but im having girl problems and am stuck in the bathroom

>> im so sorry this is so unprofessional

Girl problems? What are you? In fucking middle school? Before you can send yet another in a long string of planned apologies, John answers.

J >> How can I help?

>> i dont have any products on me

>> meant to stock the bathroom

>> sorry

J >> Stop apologizing

J >> What kind do you use? I’ll go to the corner store up the street

You breathe out a sigh of relief, still nervously gnawing at your lip as you send him what you need with an example picture (just in case) and profusely insist you’ll pay him back. John refuses. You’ll just have to sneak the cash in his tips or something.

It isn’t long before you hear the front doorbell ring, heavy footsteps, then a gentle tap on the bathroom door. “Y’alright, love?”

You perk up. “John, I’m so sorry-“

“Didn’t ask if you were sorry. Asked if you were alright.”

You snort. “Yeah…”

“I’m goin’ to unlock the door to slide these in. No lookin’ I swear.” John says. As if you were worried about that. You trust John. More than maybe any other man you’ve known (not that the bar is very high.) It’s nice of him to say, though. The door barely cracks open, just enough for him to toss the box to you across the floor and shut it immediately. You barely even see his arm. “That all you need?”

“Yeah. Thanks.” You murmur, bending awkwardly and snatching up the box. “I’m really sorry. I know it’s not really… appropriate.”

“Love, it’s normal. It happens. Just get y’self situated.” John taps the door once before you hear his footsteps drift down the hall toward the front.

You feel a bit skittish the rest of the day. You know it’s stupid. John’s a grown man and it’s a natural thing that happens and it’s fine. He said it’s fine. If it wasn’t fine you probably wouldn’t still look up to him the way that you do - the way that you have since you came here. The way everyone else seems to. Even so, you step around him a little wider than usual on your way out - keeping your head hung low and both hands tightly gripping your purse.

You chew your lip, shifting in place as he locks the front door. “Look, John, I-“

“If you apologize again I’m gonna fire you.” John mutters, pulling on the door to make sure it’s properly secured. There’s humor in it, though, the corners of his lips quirked up slightly.

You scoff, still not quite able to meet his eye.

“Sweetheart, look at me.” When you don’t move fast enough, apparently, he tilts your head up with a light touch. His eyes are so warm despite their icy blue shade. Sparkly in the setting sun. “Any man worth his breath wouldn’t give a shite. I’m sorry if that hasn’t been your experience, but really, it’s fine. I’ll help you out a thousand times over if y’need.”

“Okay…” You murmur, suddenly very distracted by the feeling of his fingers touching your chin, light as is it. You pull away and clear your throat, hoping he doesn’t notice the growing heat in your cheeks. “Well, uh, see you tomorrow, then.”

John nods, still smiling. “Sleep well, dove.”

When you come in the next day, you expect to get teased. A snide comment or a sideways look. You would have at any other job you’d worked - especially one with all men. All giggling and poking at you like a bear they know can’t bite back. No one says a thing outside of their usual greetings when you make your way to the front desk, though. Johnny pinches your hip like normal, Simon greets you with his new pun of the day, Kyle gives you a distracted wave over the hum of his practice gun. John doesn’t bat an eye when he says hello and checks in about the plan for the day.

You open the bottom drawer that you usually tuck your purse into, pausing before you set it inside. At the bottom, neatly tied together with a piece of twine, sits a king size chocolate bar and a pack of Midol.

If John notices the way you become extra smiley after that discovery, he doesn’t comment.

A/N: This was very self-indulgent but I’m having a bad time over here and need to be saved.

[marsdql]

Unexpected — ༄˖°.🍂.ೃ࿔*:･

Extended verison of caught off guard !! ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡

Pairing: Brother’s best friend!Heeseung x fem!reader

Synopsis: You're shocked to discover that your longtime crush Heeseung is now friends with your brother, leading to a fanfiction-like (literally) story.

Genre/warnings: fluff, little suggestive?, brother's bestfriend, reader is 3 years younger, mention of stalking, alloooottt of teasing, no dividers in between the paragraphs… | wc: 4,7k I think.

𝙈𝙖𝙧’𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚: im so extremely sorry for the ungodly word count I wrote each part separately and forgot to take in consideration the amount of writing I was doing.. The poll said to not make this into parts so I just put it all in one post though!!!!!!! + Masterlist coming soon, request me your suggestions (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧ okay enjoy now

Your brother had made new friends during the first semester because of a lot of senior group projects, which made the house busy. Your brother and his friends wanted more quiet places to work on things, like each other's houses. It's strange that it was always at your house and not his friends' or the library, but whatever.

You didn’t mind much, until a particular someone came over, Heeseung, the 6’0 slim brunette senior you’ve been crushing on since you were in middle school, now a freshman. You followed him around everywhere with your friends, making it so obvious that you guys were following HIM. You would send him holiday letters provided by the school, stall his social media, follow his friends and him at one point until he removed you over a silly kpop story... everything… and now, he’s with your brother?! Since when!

Bad thoughts filled your mind as you remembered all the embarrassing moments he caught you staring at him, thinking that he’d tell your brother all of it if he sees you and finds out that you’re the sister of the guy he’s getting closer to each day. But you were hungry, so hungry, you needed to eat, you always do before taking a nap, it’s like a routine, he can’t just ruin your routine. You start making plans on how to get to the kitchen without Heeseung and your brother spotting you. After a few minutes of thinking, you finally build up the courage to get downstairs and pray for the best.

You tip-toe your way down the stairs, attempting to make as little noise as possible, and to your surprise, the two boys are on the island table right across the fridge, you’re doomed, he’s going to see you, you can’t just walk back upstairs!

“Y/n? What are you doing, you look so stupid right now.” Your brother blurts out which makes you jolt up and fix your posture. Shoot. You forgot that they can see you from their perspective more than you can see them. But you act fast, “huh? Oh! Hi um.. I was just counting how many steps we have to the stairs.. for a math project!” What the heck was that response? Whatever, it’ll do. As you finish your sentence, you give yourself an excuse to get closer so that it doesn’t get too awkward, and there he is, the Heeseung of your dreams, locking eyes with you with his stale and cold expression planted on his face, not one tiny bit of shock in his face when seeing you.

“Hey by the way, don’t take a nap, mom wants you to help her with groceries, she’s coming in a minute, wait in the living room or something just don’t go back upstairs” your brother says before putting all his focus back to the project he’s doing with sousou. At this point, you mutter out a small “okay” and forget the snack you came downstairs for, heading to the couch to go on your phone and act like nothing happened(secretly glancing at Heeseung from time to time.)

30 minutes later, your mother comes back while your brother and mister take a bathroom break. You head to the garage, opening the door for your mother to bring the groceries in for you to then place them on the counter. You’re holding big heavy bags, making you groan trying to pick them all up, then all of a sudden, as you're trying to get up, you feel the weight getting lighter and lighter, thinking you're stronger than you thought, but to your surprise… It's the dream man helping you. “Are you that lazy? Couldn’t you have just picked them one at a time? Hm?” He says as he coughs out a small chuckle, picking up the bags with ease. You can’t do anything but stare at him and place them on the table, your lips forming an O but unable to make a sound or blurt any words out. Before you get yourself to say anything, he cuts you off with a “You’re not slick, we both know exactly why you’re so shy” what…????? “I’m not shy at all?! I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You scream before the nervousness gets to you. You never thought your first conversation with Heeseung was going to be like this. “Oh yeah? You think I don’t know what you do? All the letters you sent me the past 2 years? Common now, I’m not stupid hhh…” suddenly, he lets go of the bags and gets closer to you, your brother still in the washroom and your mother still outside. His cold expression is still there but with a slight smirk. Your cheeks and nose get red quickly, making him only grin harder as he sees the effect he has on you. “You wouldn’t want your brother to see all the cheesy things you’ve done, let alone your mother, hmph? Of course you wouldn’t want that, you’re such a nice girl they would never think you’d do that, you’re just a sweet girl who goes to school and hangs out with her friends, definitely doesn’t beg them to follow me around, right?” He’s so close to you, his words only making you blush harder. His eyes shift to the door as he watches your mother call for him “Oh hello Heeseung! Would you be a sweetheart and help me with these bags? Y/n, please put the milk away! I forgot something at that store, I need to go back and pick it up.” Of course, the young man quickly obeyed your mother and helped her out, leaving you red and shoving your face in the fridge to cool down, you’re cooked, you have no idea what's taking your brother so long, but it feels like an eternity… Since when did LEE HEESEUNG have the courage to say that? What’s he gonna say next???? You keep replaying the words he said a few seconds ago, making you go crazy all over again.

Hours later, 22:00, your brother and his friend passed out on the counter of the kitchen as you were laying in bed, bored and unable to think of anything except the incident that happened earlier. Your best friend would always write fanfiction of you and hee as a joke, not thinking anything of it because you knew you were not delusional enough to think a guy 3 years older than you would actually notice you or look your way.

Abruptly, you feel the urge to go to the bathroom, wanting to wash the guilt written all over you face from the amount of overthinking. As you get to the entrance, you notice a black statue from across the hallway, making your heart drop as it walks closer to you. Suddenly, your screams wake up the entire neighborhood, "I'm so sorry! I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I don't know what I did but I'm sorry I'll never wish death upon anyone else who likes Mingyu and joshua! I promise god I'll never ever hope that all S.coups fangirls except me will fall in a hole!" you close your eyes shut as you squeal and think its the end of your days.

Until that skinwalker finally decides to open his mouth and.. "BOO!" Heeseung screams as he shakes your shoulders, not initially intending on scaring you until he realized that you couldn't see his figure. Why did it have to be him again?! "Hey, I'm joking, calm down, you're okay. It's just me. What was all that blabbering about?" he says, again, with his famous chuckle you've probably heard more than actual words from his mouth. "You can't just do that! It's dark, nighttime and it's just annoying!" you wail, feeling surprised that you managed to actually say something to his face. "Huh? feisty, calm down scaredycat, do you usually see things?" You swallow, knowing that you not only see things, but hear things at night as well.

There's an awkward silence between you two, both standing in the dark with nothing but the light of the bathroom reflecting on eachothers skin. "So? You ain't gonna speak ‘bout nothing YOU'VE been doing? You just gonna stay quiet like that?" You gulp hard, since when was he this bold and confident? What did he expect you to say, then there you are, too scared and shy to talk again, obvious shyness on your face, making heeseung aware of it, once again. He would always secretly tease you, manspread in front of you while looking at you, trying not to stare at him back and attempting to put all your focus on your friends. He would lean against the wall and look at you up and down as you walked past him, with your face buried in your friend's back, trying not to go crazy over his state. He knew the effect he had on you, since the start, it boosted his ego the most. "You shy, doll?" He whispers as he gets closer, not scared of anyone catching you both being so close, almost heads touching.

“W-what if someone catches us like this?, you can't be so close..” You mutter under your breath, forcing the words out of your mouth knowing that you don't really want him to move. “Hm? You gonna stop me? I'll stop if you tell me to, you just gotta use your words, pretty” he whispers once again, looking down on you as he pushes both your bodies onto the wall near the door of the bathroom with his chest. Your lips are shut, unable to get yourself to push him away or say a word.

He feels you slowly giving in, he knows you would, you might know information about you but he knows all your body language, he knows how nervous you get when you're alone with him and he's ready to take advantage of you all. GO HIT THAT GUM JILGEONG!!(sorry i got bored) You feel 1000 knots in your stomach from his breath hitting you cold neck, seconds later, “Take me to your room.”

Saying that his words shocked you was a huge understatement, you were feeling so many emotions that you just went numb. Sight went foggy and you couldn't think anymore, the last thing you remembered was showing him the way to your bedroom. Heading to your bed with wobbly legs due to the fear you were feeling, you had zero idea on what was going to happen. How is this the first day you talk to Heeseung and it's already this crazy? You always imagined scenarios and insane stuff, but now it feels like you just manifested them all because this craziest one is coming to life.

“Cute room. Surprised you don't have any photos of me.” The tall man says as he throws himself on the bed. At this point, you would've been able to speak to him like a normal person, but all his flirtatious words made u only use your movements, no verbal communication in sight. He stares at your BT21 plushies with disgust, pushing them off the bed with his foot, is he really still annoyed about that instagram post? Or is he still jealous? “Hate those people” he huffs as he turns to his side, seeming amused with your sweet candy-like scent on your bed. “Why are you scared of your own bed?” He comments as he watches you stare at him from your desk, realizing that you arent on your bed because HE'S ON IT. “I-im not scared, maybe you're just too big for my bed and I can't fit.. Fatty..” ‘What'd you just call me?’ “Huh? What! I didn't say a-anything?” ‘No no i deeefinitely heard something, did you just call me fat?’ “Okay yes! I did, am I lying though? You're not slick, I know the locker you share with Jay is greasy as hell!” you squeal as you make a disgusted face. ‘Yeah? You saw me get out of class to get a cookie too? Or were you too busy trying to hide from me to be able to see what was in my hand?’ Shoot, You cant reply to him with anything, both answers are wrong.. ‘Yeah that's what i thought.’

“W-what are you doing in my room, why do you wanna be here?” You ask him, innocently. ‘Because I don't break my back sleeping on the couch and I have enough manners to not barge into your brother's room when he's asleep.’ “It's better if you sleep in my brother's room than anyone finding out you slept in mine…” 'I'll leave before anyone wakes up. Comon, I wont do anything.’ It's not like he’d do anything anyway, he's as nonchalant as ever and obviously wouldn't try anything on you, he knows you wouldn't actually give into THAT, plus, he's glad youre not like that, atleast at your age.

As Heeseung takes over your bed, you are still in shock. He is sprawled out like he owns the place, watching you from the other side of the room with a small smile on his face. When someone dares to call you out on your personal space, you feel both irritated and agitated.

He pats the empty spot on the bed beside him with the same smirk and asks, “Are you really just going to stare at me from over there?”

You pause, but you cannot maintain any resistance and end up stumbling over. You take care to maintain some distance between you while sitting on the edge, but he does not let you off that easily.

Hee laughs and creeps closer, making you all too aware of the distance vanishing between you two. “Calm down, I don’t bite.” When you look up, you see him observing you with that recognizable sparkle in his eye that indicates he is relishing every moment of it.

You make an effort to minimize it by rolling your eyes, but your cheeks’ redness most likely shows that you are not paying much attention. “Heeseung, what are you even doing here? Wouldn’t you be better off downstairs or not settling into my room?”

With a low chuckle, he leans back comfortably without shifting. With a playful tone, he raises his eyebrows and asks, “What, do you not like me here? Your mom is still out shopping, and your brother is unconscious. I thought, why don’t I keep you company since it’s just the two of us?”

Even though he still teases, his eyes are now softer. For a moment, he seems to be genuinely interested in you rather than just making jokes, as if he is looking at you differently than he has in the past. As the air between you thickens and you feel trapped but unwilling to move, your pulse quickens.

He leans forward abruptly, getting so close that you can feel the warmth of his breath. “Are you sure you actually want me to leave?” He whispers as his gaze moves over your face, capturing every tiny expression you are unable to conceal.

You catch the words in your throat. Before you can respond, he raises one hand and gently brushes a flyaway hair out of your face, his fingers remaining in place for a beat too long.

He whispers, “Tell me to stop, and I will,” in a low voice that is so intimate it chills you.

However, for some reason, you remain silent. You cannot decide whether you want him to stay or enjoy the excitement of him being this close to you and staring at you as if you are the only person in the room.

All he does is smile, that knowing smile returning to his face. He leans back and whispers, “Thought so,” remaining close enough to feel the electricity of the distance.

The weight of the moment presses down on you in the most euphoric way, making it seem like it will last forever. Even though Heeseung’s smile is still there, his eyes seem softer now, almost tender. He seems to be assessing each response, blush, and look as though recording them all.

In a low, informal voice, he begins, “So.” “Will you explain to me why you stare at me all the time, or will you continue to act as though it’s not obvious?”

He tilts his head, leaning a little closer to make sure you are not escaping too easily, but your face turns red hot, your heart pounding, and you quickly turn your head away. Please do not be so shy around me right now. He laughs softly and adds, “We both know you have been looking for a while.”

It feels like the words are stuck in your throat when you try to say something. He moves, keeping you cornered with his arm braced against the headboard next to your shoulder. The closeness is dizzying.

At last, you are able to find your voice. “I’m not… Really, I wasn’t. It’s not as if I—” His gaze prevents you from forming a coherent sentence, so you trail off.

Evidently taking pleasure in your agitated state, he laughs. “So it was not intentional that I always caught you staring at me in the hallway or whenever you passed by with your friends?”

Your lack of response is sufficient, and he smiles, obviously enjoying your response.

He leans slightly closer, until you can feel his breath fan across your cheek, and murmurs, “I guess I was right, huh?” He says quietly, “But you don’t have to be embarrassed, you know,” in a tone that has become more earnest and almost comforting. “I kinda enjoy it.”

You look up and meet his eyes as those final words give you a start. They have an unexpected quality that makes it seem as though he has known you as well as you have known him. There is still teasing, but it has a deeper, more genuine undertone.

“Wait—what?” Your voice barely rises above a whisper as you manage to blurt out.

His eyes remain fixed on yours as he smiles, softer this time. “Are you sure you don’t know?”

You do not trust yourself to say anything more, so you shake your head. He sighs as if he is having a hard time believing what he is going to say.

“Y/n,” he whispers, “I have been interested in you since long before tonight.”

The words linger between you, vibrating with an intensity that catches you completely off guard, and you freeze. Heeseung’s eyes soften, becoming completely serious instead of playful. His closeness now seems more like a confession than a tease.

You mumble, “Wait,” hardly believing your own voice. “You have not been ignoring me?”

He nods slowly, his previous sly smile giving way to something more real and vulnerable. “Yes, I have noticed you, but I wouldn’t say I have been staring at you. Do you think I have not noticed your gaze on me? Or the way you become silent around me? It’s clear, y/n.”

You are rendered speechless by the shock of what he said. Your heart is thumping in your chest and your mind is racing as you try to process this new reality. You have always known Heeseung was self-assured, perhaps even arrogant, but this? You have never seen him like this before. It is honest and unvarnished, and for a split second, you cannot even tell if you are dreaming.

Trying to gather yourself, you ask, “Are you serious?” but your words come out more breathless than you meant.

He responds softly, “I don’t joke about this kind of stuff,” as his thumb lightly brushes the side of your arm, warming your skin. “I have been trying to determine whether you were feeling the same way or if I was just dreaming.”

Your pulse quickens at the thought, and you bite your lip. The air feels heavier and thicker now, and the room feels smaller. In this moment of unsaid tension, everything around you seems to fade into the background, leaving just the two of you.

You do not say anything for a few seconds, allowing his words to register. You have long admired Heeseung from a distance and wondered what it would be like to be near him. However, you never imagined that he would share your sentiments. And now here he is, publicly acknowledging it, his eyes full of sincerity.

“I…,” you finally manage to say, “I did not know you would notice,” in a hesitant and low voice. “After all, I believed I was being subtle. I did not want to cause any strangeness.”

Hee laughs, his voice deep and comforting. “Clever? You? I promise you, y/n, there is nothing subtle about the way you gaze at me. However, I enjoy it. I have enjoyed it for some time.

For a moment, you question whether you are dreaming as the words hit you like a wave. The fact that he is sitting so close to you and that his hand is now resting on the bed between you two, inches from where yours is, makes the entire situation seem unreal. Even though everything is so personal, there is still a lot of uncertainty, which makes it difficult to completely unwind.

You ask, just above a whisper, “So, what now?” as a mix of anxiety and excitement rises inside of you.

Heeseung’s face softens as he inhales deeply. “Now?” he asks in a soft yet purposeful tone. “y/n, all I am waiting for now is for you to say what you want. Because I am listening to whatever it is. I would rather not hurry you. I have been waiting for you to solve it as well.”

For the first time in what seems like an eternity, you release the tension that has been building between you, and your heart skips a beat. You see the honesty and rawness that mirror your own feelings when you look into his eyes.

You look at him with fresh clarity and say, “I think I have figured it out,” in a quiet but firm voice.

It is the same spark in his eyes that has always held you, and Heeseung’s smile is back, albeit softer this time. “Yes? What did you discover?”

As you slowly extend your hand and touch his, you sense a spark of electricity.

His smile grows, and everything seems to be in harmony at that precise moment. There is no longer any hesitation or act of deceit. Now that you and him are at last in agreement, you can look forward to seeing where this unspoken bond may take you.

With his hand now resting on top of yours, Heeseung whispers, “I am glad you figured it out,” his voice barely audible above a whisper. “Because I have been anticipating that statement from you.”

And then everything is different. Something new—something thrilling, something genuine—replaces the tension and the air feels lighter

Neither of you could have imagined as Heeseung leans in and lightly touches your lips. A thrill is sent through you by the gentle touch of Heeseung’s lips against yours, but it is cut short by the distinct sound of footsteps approaching the door. Panic sweeps through you in a flash, and your heart jumps into your throat. With wide eyes, you instinctively glance at the door as though it might save you from the looming catastrophe as you swiftly pull back.

You hear your brother’s voice, loud and clearly irritated, as the door creaks open just a crack. “Y/nnie? Are you in there?”

Quick as ever, Heeseung leans back and puts just enough distance between himself and you to appear casual, but you can tell he is not nearly as shaken as you are by the way his eyes dart to you and the faint smile that is still tugging at his lips.

You force yourself to swallow in an attempt to control your panic. “Yes, I’m here!” you call out, your voice a little too high-pitched for comfort.

Your brother is standing in the doorway, obviously bewildered, as the door opens wider. His brow furrows in that manner that indicates he is going to ask a ton of questions, and he blinks twice as his eyes dart from you to Heeseung. “What on earth are you two doing in here?”

Your mind is a jumble of ideas and excuses as you fumble for the right words. “Nothin’! Nothing bad, really. We were just—uh, talking.”

Your brother folds his arms across his chest and his eyes narrow. “Talking?” he asks again in a suspicious tone. “You two talk like this all the time?”

Heeseung gives you a barely contained smile when you meet his gaze, as though he finds the entire situation humorous. He is not phased at all, of course, because he has always had that arrogant confidence that helps him get out of a tight spot. In the meantime, you are just a few seconds away from losing it due to embarrassment.

“Indeed, we were just catching up. We haven’t seen one another in a long time,” Heeseung’s voice is smooth and unaffected, as if a single sentence would allay your brother’s suspicions.

Your brother looks back at you with a raised eyebrow. “Catching up in her room, you two? Doesn’t that sound a bit suspicious?”

You give Heeseung a quick, frantic glance, hoping he will save you, but he is taking too much pleasure in this. “Again, we were just conversing. Nothing strange,” Heeseung says with a nonchalant shrug. “But we can go if you have to. I don’t want to invade your territory.” He says with a chuckle.

As though this whole exchange is one big headache he did not sign up for, your brother pauses, still glaring, and then sighs. Then he turns back to the door and murmurs, “Anyway, just don’t make it weird.” “You understand what I mean when I say that you don’t want to hear anything too strange from this room later?”

Heeseung shakes his head and lets out a barely contained laugh as he leaves. His voice is light as he says, “He’s got nothing on us,” but his grin remains mischievous and a bit too knowing.

With your heart still pounding, you release a breath you were unaware you were holding. You mutter, attempting to steady yourself by running a hand through your hair, “I can’t believe he just walked in like that.”

Leaning back against the bed, Heeseung laughs. “Slow down. In any case, he’s too ignorant to solve anything.”

Despite his playful tone, there is a surprising undertone of protectiveness in his voice. He looks you in the eyes, and for a brief moment, you are the only two of you. The tension from earlier returns, but this time it is different—more at ease.

You start to say, “Well, I suppose we should wait until he returns downstairs before we—” but Heeseung cuts you off, his eyes softening.

With a tone that conveys something unsaid, he asks softly, “Before we what?”

You look him in the eyes and feel the tension between you two return. This time, the separation between you is not about actual distance but rather about the potential outcomes and the uncertainty of what lies ahead. You can’t shake the feeling that something could change everything right in front of you.

You confess, “I… I don’t know,” not knowing how to move through the distance between you but unwilling to let go of the bond you have just found. “However, I am aware that I’m not yet prepared for him to solve this.”

With his confidence fully restored, Heeseung grins. “Don’t be concerned. We will resolve the issue. Furthermore, both you and I are aware of what really happens next.”

The ease with which he returns to his typical, carefree self makes you laugh and shake your head. However, you realize that perhaps—just possibly—you are ready to stop acting like everything is easy and let whatever happens between you and Heeseung play out naturally as you sit there with him and hear your brother’s voice reverberating in your head.

Reblogs & Comments are appreciated!

[ marsdql ] •⩊•

[calicoheartz]

Please write something where paige x teammate!reader is on a live with KK, and then someone asks along the lines of "Are you gay?" and KK starts reading it, and paige and deader both go "don't. " almost like that one live. 💀

And then later the night KK goes on live at a bar or party and then you can accidentally see paige and reader make out in the back ground 👀

-🦢 (ily too)

𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐄 𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐃 ; 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐆𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐄𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐑𝐒

꣑୧ — summary | basically the prompt !!

wc ; 637

— warnings | mainly fluff , somewhat suggestive !

my master list ㇀♡

a/n : anon , you are ALWAYS keeping me fed with your requests !! enjoy besties!:)

Paige and you are sitting in her dorm room, laughing over some inside joke as you scroll through your phones. The off-season has given you both some much-needed downtime, and tonight, you’re planning to relax with a spontaneous Instagram Live. KK, another teammate, joins in from her own room, and soon, the three of you are streaming to your fans.

“Hey, everyone!” KK greets the viewers, grinning widely. “It’s a chill night with your favorite Huskies!”

The comments start pouring in, with fans sending heart emojis, asking questions, and generally expressing their excitement. You and Paige wave at the camera, adding your own comments to the chat.

“So, what should we talk about tonight?” you ask, leaning closer to Paige, who’s reading some of the comments aloud.

“Oh, someone wants to know what our favorite pre-game rituals are,” Paige says, her eyes twinkling as she reads aloud. “I guess we can share that.”

KK jumps in, sharing her ritual first, and then it’s Paige’s turn. You’re about to share yours when a comment catches KK’s attention, and she starts to read it aloud.

“Are you gay?” KK begins, eyes widening slightly.

Before she can continue, both you and Paige, almost in unison, exclaim, “Don’t!”

KK quickly shuts her mouth, a mischievous smile tugging at her lips. “Okay, okay! Moving on,” she says with a laugh, clearly amused by the synchronized reaction.

The rest of the Live continues smoothly, with more light-hearted questions and fun interactions. Eventually, you all say your goodbyes and end the stream, laughing about the close call.

Later that night, the team decides to unwind at a local bar. The music is loud, the atmosphere electric, and you’re having a great time. You and Paige stick close together, your usual comfort zone, but there’s an underlying tension, a shared look that seems to convey everything you’ve been feeling.

KK, always the life of the party, decides to go live again. She’s capturing the energy of the night, showing everyone dancing, laughing, and just having a good time.

You and Paige find yourselves in a quieter corner of the bar, the noise around you fading into the background as you lean in closer to each other. The moment feels right, the mix of alcohol and the charged atmosphere giving you both a bit of courage.

As you glance over, you realize KK’s live feed is still rolling. She’s panning around, talking to other teammates, and then her camera inadvertently captures you and Paige. Without even realizing it, you lean in, and Paige meets you halfway, your lips meeting in a kiss that feels like it’s been a long time coming.

KK, still chatting away, doesn’t notice immediately. But the viewers do. The comments explode with reactions, and when KK finally notices, her eyes go wide. She quickly turns the camera away, laughing awkwardly.

“Uh, looks like everyone’s having a good time!” she says, trying to cover up the slip.

Meanwhile, you and Paige pull back, both of you blushing but unable to stop smiling. The cat’s out of the bag now, but in this moment, you can’t bring yourself to care. You’re just happy to finally share this with Paige, no matter how unexpected the reveal might have been.

Later, as you walk back to the dorms together, Paige squeezes your hand. “Well, that’s one way to come out,” she jokes, her eyes shining with amusement.

You laugh, leaning into her. “Yeah, not exactly how I imagined it, but I’m glad it happened.”

Paige stops walking and turns to face you, her expression serious for a moment. “I’m glad too,” she says softly, before pulling you in for another kiss, this one slower, more meaningful.

As the night ends, you know that things might be different now, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

cami and her low-key short fics >>>> ... as always thank you so much for reading !!

[theanimeoftheblackbunnymask]

Gathers up the courage to send an ask

Since you are the creator for the blueprint of Yandere PM! Dazai, I gotta ask (because this is my all-time favorite concept with Yandere Dazai and I need to get out of my writing funk)...

How would he react to his darling falling in love or forming a close relationship with someone else? BUT that someone else isn’t a nobody Ex. Chuuya, Akutagawa, Oda, or Kouyou. 

Like every second you are away from him, you are with the other person. Maybe going out of your way to avoid him and go to this other person. Dazai can clearly see that you aren’t being just friendly and it looks like the other person reciprocates your feelings.

However Dazai realizes that it wouldn’t be so simple as to just force you back with him or punish you since you’ve got yourself a new white knight.

Ex:

Chuuya, being someone not afraid to deck Dazai in the face, would be rightfully disgusted regarding Dazai’s behavior and would probably try to get you permanently away from the bandaged freak. And kiss you just to stick it to Dazai.

Akutagawa… ok y’all would be screwed if Dazai found out about you both but the relationship would be super sweet. LET AKUTAGAWA BE HAPPY!!

Oda needs no further explanation. Dazai actually likes and respects Oda so if he is telling Dazai to stop then maybe the suicidal dickhead would consider that he is going too far.

Kouyou is a debatable choice considering that she is a bit scared of Dazai and she is a tad like a yandere herself, but if you are important enough to her she might get you a job under her command so she can protect you during Port Mafia work hours. (she operates the Port Mafia brothels so do with that what you will)

Jesus this was a lot...

One of biggest differences between PM!Dazai and ADA!Dazai is the treatment of their darling.

PM!Dazai is way more clingy than ADA!Dazai. Dazai has you bounded to him 24/7, you're rarely alone. If you were to get close and fall in love with someone that wasn't Dazai, it'd have to be someone who's around him often.

It doesn't necessarily need to be someone like Chuuya, who's always working with Dazai, but instead it just needs to be someone who's in his presence often.

It started off with glances from across the room, but now it's become flirting with just your eyes alone. Dazai picked up on what was going on pretty fast, and this is where he thinks you've forgotten just how ruthless he is.

He'd bring you down to a room where your lover is tied to a chair, their mouth gagged as a cloth was placed over their eyes.

One of Dazai's favorite forms of torture is having someone hurt their loved ones. Luckily for him, and unfortunately for you, he just got his suit cleaned, so you'll have to be doing it.

All he'd do is hand you a crowbar and say one word, "Hit."

After a swift hit to the gut, you end up bursting into tears, saying that you couldn't hurt them.

This is when Dazai's true nature comes out.

Any amusement Dazai had is now placed with annoyance and disappointment, Dazai pulls at your hair, lifting you off the floor.

"If you don't fucking bash his brains in, it won't just him going out in a body bag."

Throwing you back down onto the floor, you reluctantly give the few more blows, the final blow causing you to collapse onto the floor before bursting out into tears.

"Good job," Dazai said in a sickeningly soft tone, patting your head before forcing you look up him. The coldness in his eyes sent a chill down your spine. "If you ever cheat on me again, I'll make you someone else's bitch."

[neerons]

Some of Sariel Noir's best quotes

"Know that this devil will stake his life on your pure heart, your wise gaze, and your fierce resolve."

"There is something I wish to protect, even if it means selling my soul to the true devil himself, and burning for all eternity in the fires of hell."

"Do you realize who you resemble, when you act in that manner?" (—Sariel to Emma acting like him)

"Rio, what in the world makes you think she could be in a flower vase? Calm yourself." (—Sariel talking about Emma to Rio while they're looking for her)

"There is no harm in sucking up to me."

"You have always been courageous, determined to put your emotions aside and process things logically whenever possible. And I certainly consider it a desirable trait to possess. But too much has happened this evening, and I imagine you're well past the limit of what you can tolerate. I do not mind if you need to prioritize how you are feeling right now."

"If you ever refer to me like that again, I must warn you that you may not see the next sunrise." (—Sariel to Gilbert calling him 'Daddy')

"At last I've found you. (...) I imagine a little discipline will go a long way with you... hehe..."

"It would seem you have a lot of confidence in your ability to remember things. (...) ...I am simply wondering whether you ought not be taking notes. While it's true books can be reread, much of the information I am sharing with you is not written down anywhere. As such, you may find it useful to write things down so that you may review them later."

"So long as the kingdom and its people exist, our noble beasts will give everything they have to protect it. As you know, they have very different ideologies, and they are a problematic lot, but... on this one matter alone, almost all of them can be trusted." (—Sariel talking about the Rhodolitian princes to Emma)

"It's a basic right. Everyone needs time to rest and relax, no matter who they are."

"I'm fond of those who are wise—regardless of gender."

"I'm talking about the creature that says 'squeak squeak' and begins with the letter R. I cannot even put that filthy word in my mouth." (—Sariel talking about rats)

"(...) Prince Gilbert, rude though it may be of me to ask, perhaps you would be kind enough to vanish for the time being?"

"There probably aren't many ladies that would be able to approach Prince Gilbert." (—Sariel talking in front of Emma, Keith, Silvio, Rio and Gilbert)

"...Now, now. I am a man, you are a woman, and we're all alone in your bedroom at night. How might you want this scenario to end?"

"To say that I'm relieved to have you beside me is an understatement." (—Sariel's lobby dialogue)

"(...) I did feel some murderous intent in the cane, however." (—Sariel to Gilbert pointing his cane at him)

"Dear Prince Clavis, (...) Apparently you made a child bawl in the middle of town? Please act your age. (...) There have been complaints that people who got wet because of you were close to catching colds because of it. It's winter. Please do not be using water or ice. This is not an invitation to make traps using fire. *NO MICE. The next time I see any, I will put them in a bag along with you and send it down the river. I have warned you." (—Sariel's letter to Clavis)

"...Prostate himself? (...) ...Ahh, I see. Wonderful, I shall have to make the hellcat do it the next time I get the chance." (—Sariel talking about Clavis to Rio)

"You damned hellcat—" (—Sariel to Clavis)

"I do not know what choice you will make going forward, but... For as long as you are able, do not let each other go. Especially because you love each other. It makes no difference whether you are a prince or a commoner. A person needs someone to love in order to remain human. I learned this after witnessing what happened to His Majesty." (—Sariel to Rio)

"What on earth are you doing curled up so disgracefully on the floor like that, Dog?" (—Sariel to Rio)

"(...) At that time, Clavis was the most innocent and childlike of the princes. I had to admit that I was easily swayed by his sweet grin. He took a keen interest in anything and everything, and he had a strong drive. Clavis was the student—well, disciple—I shared most of my knowledge with." (—Sariel's thoughts about young Clavis)

"Which do you like better, spending time with me like this, or spending time reading a book?"

"You are right, it would be tactless of me to speak ill of you when you are present. I shall wait until you are absent, and then I will be free to speak as much ill of you as I wish." (—Sariel to Clavis)

"(...) I'm the one who taught Prince Nokto and Prince Licht how to use their swords."

"I wonder how many times he and I have shared a drink now. I remembered the times where instead of amber-colored wine, there was water or milk in the cups in front of us. We had been partaking in these laidback meetings ever since we were both young. They were an absolute necessity for us." (—Sariel's thoughts about Jin)

"(...) You misunderstand me. I don't hate the man, I despise him." (—Sariel talking about Clavis to Emma)

"Now, now. Don't be so sullen. Another fundamental aspect of training someone is to make them want something but never completely satisfy them."

"I also despise hellcats, miscreants, oh, and the Third Prince." (—Sariel talking about Clavis)

"If you do, I'm not nursing you back to health." (—Sariel to Rio telling him he might faint because of how beautiful Emma is)

"(...) Since Emma isn't available to praise you, shall I do the honors instead?" (—Sariel to Rio)

"Hehe, I'm never going to let you run away from this palace of beasts. Will you continue to allow them, and myself, to enjoy your company to the fullest?"

"My hobby is teasing those who are worth teasing, such as yourself. Think of it as an honor that you met my expectations." (—Sariel's lobby dialogue)

"In that instance, I was considering binding Emma's arms behind her back and dumping her in the river. Hehe, naturally, I am joking. I have absolute confidence in my judge of character." (—Sariel talking about Emma potentially failing his test to Rio and Emma)

"I have one more order for you, if that's all right. (...) I'd like you to have a drink with me like this every now and then."

"(...) if it is to be a competition, perhaps I shall take part as well." (—Sariel reacting to Luke saying he would steal Emma away)

"The princes were all very excited when they discovered that today is your birthday. Happy birthday." (—Sariel's lobby dialogue)

"You allowed yourself to get so close to her that rumors began circulating that she was your mistress. Did you keep Belle at your side even knowing it would have no benefit for you?" (—Sariel to Chevalier)

"Prince Chevalier's faction are perhaps a little too free-willed, and at times the ache in my—"

"Consider it one of the perks of being Belle. You are permitted to keep a pet at the palace. (...) This is your pet, is it not? When I entered the bookstore, it started barking non-stop, so I had no choice but to bring it with me." (—Sariel talking about Rio to Emma)

"Hmm? Is something the matter? I can't imagine why you're blushing. Careful now, or you really will get eaten."

"Don't worry. It doesn't matter what kind of noise you make. If anyone overhears and finds fault with you, this devil of a man will take care of it. So please, won't you allow me to hear every last sweet sound?"

[pit-and-the-pen]

My Sisters Keeper- PT I

Summary: Rose has protected Violet for as long as they've been alive. But in the riders' quadrant, you live to be a rider or die trying.

Content warning: Cursing, canon level fighting.

WC: 6.5k

divider by @tsunami-of-tears

I stood outside of my mothers office, ringing my hands. I had stopped minutes ago. Working up the courage to walk in there and give my mother a piece of my mind. Through the thick wooden door I heard exactly what I needed to. That tone my mother so often got. The one that I fought to make sure she never used with Violet. I shoved through the doorway, ignoring the tingle it shot through my arms. 

“You can’t let her go through with this mom.” 

“Rose!” Mira scolded me immediately. But I kept my eyes locked on my mother. General Sorrengail. 

As I held her glare, I heard the faint rumble of thunder. 

“Do not tell me what I can and cannot do with my daughter.” She spoke slowly, eliciting every word,

“I will if you’re sending her off to get killed.”

“Sorrengail’s are riders. You’re a rider.”

“Brennan was a rider too.” Her face fell for a fraction of a second before she stood up a little straighter, squaring back her shoulders. 

“She is going. End of discussion.” I opened my mouth to speak. “End.Of.Discussion.Rose. Now get out.” Her nostrils flared and I clenched my hands into fists by my side. Sensing that I was about to really lose it, Mira tugged on my arm. Pulling me from the room with  Violet walking behind us. 

“Do you have a death wish?” Mira scolds me the moment we’re out of earshot from the door.

“If it keeps her safe.”

“You keep her safe by surviving the parapet, not by pissing off the general so much she kills you before you can.”

“Mira-”

“Stop. I’m right here.” Violer cuts me off and I feel shame heat up my cheeks.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. It’s not that I don’t think you can protect yourself…” I grapple with the words, they come out too fast and everything sounds wrong.

“I get it. But I need you to believe in me. I need someone to think that I’m going to make it.” The words cut through me. Sobering my rage and I nod. Mira rolls her eyes at the two of us.

“Now, if we’re done being so sentimental. Here.” She reaches into her bag and pulls out two matching vests. 

“Are those…” 

“Dragon scales. Yes. Got them from Teine during his last molt. Put them on, and don’t take them off. Both of you.” She hands Violet and I the vests and helps Violets into hers. I study mine as I slide it on. A simple vest but the scales extend up higher on mine, right to the base of my head. It would completely cover my neck. Mira sees me struggling to fix the top part in place and comes over to give me a hand. 

“It ties down into the vest, that way no one could cut it or untie it if they get your hands on you.” She pulls the leather ties into two holes on the top of my shoulders. I give my neck a twist back and forth. Surprisingly, it doesn’t cut off my movement. It fits perfectly snug.  She gives me a proud nod and I try not to blush under the weight of her gaze. 

“Now, other matters. This bag weighs nearly as much as you do, Vi. What the hell is in here.”

“Just stuff that I’ll need.” Violet answers as Mira starts pulling book after book from the pack.

“You’ll still have access to the archives. You don’t need all of these.” Violet starts to protest. 

“I’ll keep these with me. I promise.” Mira continues before Violet could interrupt her. “And you need to change. Those robes will become a sail up on the parapet.”

Mira quickly shoves some riding leathers into Violet's arms. Gesturing for her to change right there. She does and I get a view of just how small my sister is. She was trained to be a scribe. She hasn’t had years to build the muscle that I have. The gray tips in her hair tell just how much the fever affected her more. 

“And if you won’t cut your hair, at least tie it back.” Mira says. I sigh and motion for Violet to turn around so I can braid it back. She finally gives her a once over and makes a content grunt. “Better.”

She looks over at me and doesn’t seem to find anything she needs to change. 

“As expected. Although you should cut your hair too.” 

“I’d have to shave half of it to get rid of it, ya know?”

I know she’s talking about the silver streak that starts from my scalp. Only about the width of my hand but enough to let people know that both twins were affected. 

“Let them know, I don’t care. It’ll just make it better when I beat them all.”

“She’s got a point.” Violet murmurs in agreement with me. Mira rolls her eyes more dramatically this time. She looks like she is about to say something before a bell cuts off her words. 

“Shit. Okay, one last thing for both of you.” She reaches into her sheathes and pulls out three daggers and slides them into Violet’s vest. Then she hands me my sword. 

“Both of them are balanced for you. I know you’re used to that sword Rose. It’s better than any stock you’ll find in the college.” I put it in place on my back and the moment it’s settled Mira sweeps both of us up in a bone crushing hug. My hands go numb but I force them to hug her back anyways. She releases us as a second bell tolls and she walks us only to the edge of the steps. 

“Don’t make me an only child. Or make me live with only one twin.”

And that’s all we get before we start climbing the stairs, watching Mira disappear around a corner. I grab a hold of Violet's hand as we start climbing, my arm out behind me. Eventually we reach the rest of the group. The others that are waiting their turn to cross the parapet. The line is longer than I imagined. 

Violet and I are sandwiched in between a girl with dark skin and curly hair tied up against the crown of her head, and a blond boy who is fiddling with a golden ring on a chain around his neck. 

“I’m Rhiannon.” She says to me, I almost flinch. Not expecting her to talk to either one of us. When I don’t respond fast enough, Violet reaches past me to extend her hand to the girl.

“I’m Violet and the grumpy one is Rose.”

“Twins?” She says, eyeing the both of us. We nod. 

“Cool.”

“I’m Dylan.” The boy behind us chips in and I fight the urge to roll my eyes. Dylan goes on about the girl he’s engaged to back home. “We’re waiting until I graduate but the first thing I’m doing is marrying her. We wanted to do it before but she told me she could wait.” 

Violet nods along and I try to look interested. Don’t make friends. That was what I’ve been told for as long as I can remember. You don’t make friends here. Because it will only hurt that much more when you have to watch them die. Violet apparently didn’t get the memo. 

Violet is quiet for a little bit and I can finally see the parapet ahead of us. 

“What size shoe do you wear?” She asks the girl in front of us, Rhiannon. I’m trying to forget her name but I just can’t for some reason. 

“Eight.” She answers, seeming a little confused.

“I’m a seven and half so it’ll be tight, but you need to switch shoes with me.” I snap my head back to Violet. 

“Are you crazy?” I hiss in a whisper to her. She ignores me. 

“With those shoes, you’ll slip right off the edge.” And she’s already taking off her shoe, holding it out for the girl to take. Rhiannon does the same. Whispering her thanks. 

We finally get to the front of the line. Rhiannon gives her name before the two of us. 

“Name?” The rider at the parapet asked the two of us. 

“Rose Sorrengail.” 

“Violet Sorrengail” The rider snapped her eyes up. Studying both of us. 

“As in General Sorrengail?” 

I rolled my eyes as I looked back at Violet before I quickly nodded to the rider in front of us. 

“The one and only.” 

“I thought there was only one coming through this year?” The rider quirked an eyebrow as her gaze fell to Violet. I felt that oh too familiar bubble rise in my chest. 

“Well there's two. So are you going to let us go now?” I crossed my arms, almost daring the rider to say something back. 

“Come on, some of us actually want to get through this thing. Are you both going to keep yapping or cross?” A voice from behind Dylan calls, and I turn my head around to see glacial blue eyes filled with so much pure loathing that it almost makes me flinch. “No one cares what your last name is. Either get moving or get out of my way.” I snap my jaw shut. 

“Go ahead.” She waves Violet through, giving my sister's hand one last squeeze. . 

“See you both on the other side.” Violet says as she takes her first step onto the parapet. It goes against everything I’ve ever been taught. Keep Violet safe. That was the reason I was the rider and she was the scribe. My breath catches as she stumbles for half a second. She’s nimble but I’m scared she'll be knocked over with the way her arms are limply held out beside her. 

Finally, she’s far enough across that they let me go. 

Mira was right, the wind was wicked up on the wall. The stray bits of my hair whipped around my face, luckily I had the sense to tie it back or else I wouldn’t be able to see a damned thing. I take a steadying breath to try to calm my raging heartbeat. I’m a Sorrengail. I am a rider. I was trained to be a rider my whole life. I will not die today. The words Violet said earlier echoes in my ears. Neither of us will. I keep my eyes trained on my sister's braid, the silver hair peeking out through the woven strands of hair. She stumbles again and I bolt a step or two closer towards her. Catching up to her as much as I can while still keeping my own footing. It’s slicker than mud up here on the smooth stones. I’m close enough to Violet that I could reach out and grab her if need be. But I know she needs to do this on her own. She’ll never let me live it down if I help her get through this. But she loses her footing as a strong gust of wind blows and she almost goes over the side. 

I curse and beg my feet to move faster. I swore I heard something pop as her knee landed on the hard ground. She’s half hanging on and I can’t catch up with her. No matter how hard I clench the muscles in my core, the wind is too strong to fight against so I’m forced to sit and watch as Violet scrambles to pull herself up. 

“Come on, Vi.” I shout and I see her rolling onto her back, safely on the parapet again. Well as safe as she’s going to get up here. I let out a relieved sigh and focused on the path in front of me again. 

But before I can pull my focus back to me, I hear a curse then a yelp from behind me. I risk a glance backwards just in time to see Dylan go over the ledge. My body acts faster than I do, leaping towards the spot where his foot would have just been but I’m too slow. Too slow by a long shot and I see his panicked look as he realizes he’s falling. I close my eyes before I can see him land. Damn it Violet. 

That move wasted strength and I have to push myself off of my stomach. Wobbling ever so slightly as I lock eyes with the boy from earlier. Jack Barlow, I heard him when he gave his name loud and proud for everyone to hear. He smirks and puts his head down like a bull as he starts to charge at me. He doesn't miss a step. Doesn’t stumble for a second as he closes the gap in between us and it’s my turn for panic to wash over me. I force my muscles to work, to turn in the opposite direction and run. I can’t make out the words Jack is screaming at me over the wind but I know that look. Jack is ready to kill me and my sister. He turns around and pulls another person over the edge of the parapet as if to prove his point. 

My side hurts, my calves are screaming at me as I put my weight into my thighs, forcing my center of gravity lower as I break into a run. 

“Violet, move.” I shout as I almost catch up with her. “Move. faster.” I grit out when she doesn’t speed up. She glances backwards and I know she sees the same thing I do. Jack barreled towards us at a breakneck speed. Her eyes go wide and she, thankfully, picks up the pace. We have less than a third of the parapet left in front of us but it’s more than enough time for Jack to catch up with us. I’m basically pushing Violet along with me, my hands on her back. Praying to Z that she moves faster. 

I feel the air whoosh around me as I push her towards the other side. Towards whatever semblance of safety becoming a cadet will grant us. And I almost sigh with relief as I see Violet land on the other side, rolling on her shoulder in an unnatural angle, but safe nonetheless. My feet leave the ground to leap and I feel someone’s arm wrap around my waist. Years of training make my body move faster than my mind. I push all my weight forward. Just barely wiggling out of the grip on my waist and feeling all my breath get pushed out of me as I land on my back. I fight back the yelp as I feel a stone press into my neck. Sending a wave of pain so sharp it brings tears to my eyes. I scramble to my feet just in time to see Violet with a dagger aimed right between Jack’s legs. 

“I’ll kill you.” He spits out. 

“No you won’t. Because the way I see it. You’re still on the parapet and she’s a cadet. And she literally has you by the balls on this one.” The rider at the ledge says and I see Violet’s hand push just a little further and I see a tinge of green color Jack's face. I fight the smirk off of my face. Maybe Violet will survive after all. He snaps his teeth at her and I’m beside her instantly. 

“Let me down.” He grits through his teeth and before I can protest, Violet is sheeting her dagger at her side and steps out of the way to let Jack step down. I gawk at her, but she avoids my gaze. Keeping her eyes locked on Barlow. 

He steps up to her, chest almost touching hers. “When I get the chance, you’re fucking dead. Both of you.” I push Violet out of the way and tuck her behind me. I make myself as tall as possible as I force venom into my words. 

“She might be our fathers daughter. But me, I got stuck with my mother.” I bit out. “So if you want to fuck with her, you go through me.” My fists balled against my sides.

“Bitch.” Jack spat near my  feet. I fought the urge to strangle him right there. But Violet tugged on my arm, pulling me away from him.. 

“At least think of something original.” I  muttered under my breath, letting my sister lead us closer to the college. 

The rider at the edge doesn’t look the least bit surprised at this interaction as she asks for our names. 

“Sorrengail?” She all but shouts and I wince. Suddenly feeling every set of eyes on us. I want to wrap myself around my sister. Shield her away from the wandering eyes of the other riders. And as I look around, there's only one that shakes me to my core. The dark hair, a rebel relic snaking along his neck. 

I watch his tan skin flush with anger for a mere second before his face becomes ice cold. I know exactly who it is. Xaden Riorson. And before I can spit out anything to him. A warm hand wraps around my arm. Tugging. I go to push whoever it is off and am met with familiar brown eyes that almost make me melt. Dain. 

“Shit.” He says under his breath as he looks from me to Violet. Violet who is desperately trying to hide the way she isn’t putting weight on her left leg. 

“Dain.” I fight to keep my voice neutral. To keep the way I’m swooning out of it. And he tugs both of us over to the side, out of hearing range from the other riders. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” And I know he isn’t asking me. His eyes are only on Violet, concern laced on every feature of his gorgeous face. I shake my head, trying to calm my mind. 

He’s changed in the last year since I saw him. His hair is a little longer and stubble covers the sides of his face. No longer the clean cut boy he was before he left for the riders quadrant. And I’m shocked at how…good he looks. Dressed in rider black, a sword peeking over his shoulder. He turns to me and I know he asked me something. Something that he’s expecting me to answer. 

Violet nudges me with her elbow and it snaps me back to where we are. I just got caught gawking at my best friend. My best friend who not so subtly told me he’d be counting down the minutes until he saw me again. My best friend who I may or may not have been in love with since he started sprouting like a weed when we were fifteen. 

“Sorry. Adrenaline.” I force the words out, my mouth suddenly feeling very dry. 

He sighs but a hint of a smile plays at the edge of his mouth. 

“Did you at least try to talk your mother out of it.” His words pull a snort from me. 

“Have you met my mother?”

His hand runs through his hair and I try not to think about how soft it must feel. Gods I need to get it together if I’m supposed to join his squad. 

“Listen, there's still time that we can sneak her into the scribes quadrant. They haven’t submitted the names and I know they would take her in a heartbeat.” Violet is already shaking her head. 

“She would just drag me back by my hair. She promised me as much this morning.”

“She’ll get over it. Once you’re in she can’t make them take you.”

“Dain, face it. I’m a rider now despite you being less than thrilled. I made it across. Doesn’t that count for anything.” I see the internal war he’s fighting as he chews on her words. Letting them sink in. 

“We’ll figure out something.” He says and Violet stalks away. Ready to give our names to the rider, not so patiently waiting for them. Leaving me alone with Dain for the first time in a year. 

He smiles my smile. The one that makes one side tug up higher than the other and makes  his eyes crinkle around the edges. Fuck it. I think and launch myself into his chest. Arms wrapping around his neck. He doesn't hesitate to squeeze me back, arms wrapping around my middle tight enough that my toes are the only thing touching the ground. He smells the same, cedar and wind and something that is utterly Dain. He releases me and holds me at arms length, looking me up and down so intensely that I fight the urge to look away. 

“You look good. And in one piece.” He puts another step in between us as I nod. “Tell the girl to put you in my squad. Flame section, second squad. Tell her this is me cashing in the favor she owes me.” He shots me a wink before he walks away, joining the rest of the riders who are looking at us with varying levels of confusion. Let them think what they want. I’m not here to make any friends. I repeat the words to the red-head taking names. And she nods. 

We wait for the rest of the rider candidates to make it across or fall. Once the formation is called, we find out that we lost almost 20 percent. The highest in the last decade. I blame the rain. 

We stand in a rough set of lines, Violet and I falling into near perfect formation as we guide Rhiannon behind us. Then I see him, staring directly at Violet and I with a look that roots me to the spot. He whispers something to the rider calling names, Nyra I think her name is. 

“Dain Aestos, you and your squad will switch with Aura Beinhaven’s.” All Dain does is nod, his face tense. Violet and I share a glance that lets me know neither of us know what is happening. 

But as we passed the next squad, I sucked in a gasp. We’re being moved to fourth wing. Xadens wing. Xaden just stands there with that smirk that makes me want to push him over the edge. But I can’t. Infighting is strictly prohibited according to the codex. Of course, unless it can be excused as training or punishment. Which is exactly what Xaden will be able to do now. Xaden nods at Nyra and steps forward towards all of us. 

“You’re all cadets now. Take a look at your squad, these are the only people who aren’t allowed to kill you, per the codex. You want a dragon? Then earn one.” 

Cheers erupt around us. Violet and I just  glance at each other. I break formation to grab my hand in hers and Dain looks back, looks down at our joined hands and shakes his head. I don’t let go as Violet goes to pull her hand from mine. 

“And I bet some of you are feeling pretty bad ass right now. You made it into your first year, right? The elite, the chosen. Invincible even?” 

More cheers but the tone of his voice makes my stomach curl. The cheers get louder but over them I can hear the telltale sound of wings. 

Rhiannon gaps besides me. I lock my muscles into place to stop from fleeing as the riot flies right towards us. Instead I keep my head held high. Forcing my heartbeat to slow. Dragons can smell a coward from miles away. 

They land mere feet from us, the force enough to shake the ground. Screams rip through the air, but I keep my gaze ahead of me. 

I hear the sound of footfalls as people start to dash out of formation. I don’t close my eyes in time as I see the curl of flame reach out. And that smell, the smell of burnt flesh is one that I know I’ll never forget. It’s enough to make me gag. Violet squeezes my hand but says nothing. 

“Anyone else feel like changing their mind?” Silence. “No? Well then, half of you will be dead by the end of this year. Another third the year after. And even fewer will make it ‘til graduation. No one cares who your mommy,” He stares right at Violet and I. “or you daddy is here. Here you’re nothing more than a cadet. So who here still feels invincible.” More silence weighs the air like a blanket. “Good. Because to them you’re not, to them you’re just prey.” 

We’re left to our own devices for the rest of the day. Dain quickly pulls Violet to somewhere deeper into the college once they dismiss us from formation. I don’t wait around for them, instead going up to the dorms to sit for a second. The dorms are already noisy. Full of cadets talking over each other and I just lay down in my bed, pushing my pillow over my ears to drown out the noise of people I don’t want to get to know. People that will most likely be dead in the next couple of months. The thought shouldn’t bother me. I was trained to be a rider. And the only thing a rider cares about is their squad and their wings. But that doesn’t stop the single tear that drips down my face as I recall the way Dylan looked at me when he realized he was going to die. When he realized he would never get to marry that pretty girl back home. I lock the thoughts away into some deep vault in my mind. I don’t have time for weakness. I grant myself the moment to feel and then sit up in my bunk. Rolling my shoulders back with a deep breath. I stretch out the tension in my neck. Feeling the nerves protest against the movement but ignore it. 

I stay in the barracks until it’s time for dinner then head back right after I’m done. Violet lingers, talking to Rhiannon and the rest of our squad. I have no interest in fighting through the awkward glances and down right hateful glares of some of our fellow cadets. 

The next morning we’re called to formation after breakfast. Then comes the worst part of the day, the death roll. Name after name is called. Not enough time to process them, let alone mourn. 

Suddenly the names just stop. And that’s all there is before squad leaders turn to talk to us. Dain only gives Violet and I a quick once over before his face takes on that neutral look that has something inside of me clawing to get out. 

“I expect to see you all alive when we get to the sparring gym later.” And I feel Violet tense beside me. Right, the first day meant we have trials. A simple way to assess where all of us are with fighting. This will determine who we are put up against throughout the year. Do well and you put a target on your back, do poorly and you get an even bigger target on your back. Either way you’re screwed. 

“Sawyer” Dain calls to the boy beside him. 

“I’ll get them to class.” 

Sawyer shouts out the instructions on how to get to the classroom and I try my best to picture the steps. Storing them in my memory in hopes that I won't forget them within twenty minutes. 

Rhiannon, Violet and I walk together. I really hoped she would let h er go after the parapet. But it seems she’s intent on keeping her around, so I’ll tolerate her for now. 

A faint bird whistle has my head spinning. I catch that familiar tuff of brown hair and hook my arm around Violets pulling us away from Rhiannon. 

He ducks into a corner, hidden from sight. 

“How’s your knee?”  

“It hurts but I’ll live.”

“Good. Did anyone try to screw with you two last night?” He’s scanning us for injuries. We both shake our heads. 

“No one tried to kill us last night, if that's what you're asking.” I cross my arms, already annoyed by his hovering. 

“Dain. Take a breath.” I snapped at him. 

“You should both cut your hair.” He points to both of our braids. 

“Don’t you start with me now.” Violet  groans. 

“Why were we moved to fourth wing?”

It’s Dain’s turn to groan. His hand went to the side of his face, rubbing the stubble. 

“Dain?” Violet presses expectantly. 

“Fine. Riorson want’s Rose dead. Well both of you. But when he heard Rose was joining this year, he never shut up about it. It’s common knowledge and you just so happen to make it even more fun for him. Two birds with one stone or something.” 

“He’ll have to get through me first.”

“And that’s exactly what he wants, Ro.” He snaps back at me. “Just try to avoid him. As best as you can. He’s a wingleader so he is personally allowed to make your life a living hell. So please.” He turns to me fully. “Please don’t give him a reason to.” 

I roll my eyes and he grabs my hand. I flush from head to toe. “Rose. I’m serious here. Don’t give him more of a reason. Please.” And it’s that hint of concern. Concern so deep it makes my face hot that has me nodding my head. 

“You’re thinking like a rider now.” Violet mutters to herself. 

“I’m still me. Promise.” he taps his shoulder, where his signet patch should be. “I just have this now.”

My eyes go wide as I realize what his patch means. Classified. What signet does he have that warrants that? 

“I can read a person's recent memories.” And it’s whispered like a confession. I feel a frisson of fear. 

“Dain, that’s illegal.”

“Not like that. I can’t hear them from across the room. I have to touch a person’s face and it’s incredible.” 

“Okay, we’re going to be late if we keep talking.” I say as I hear the noise above us grow louder. 

“Just remember, stay away from Xaden. Low profile. Both of you.” He points to us and we both nod our head before we part ways.  But as we do, I see Xaden leaning over the railing to shout down at us. 

“I knew your parents were close but this is something else.” He shakes his head. “Tell me which one of you is he fucking?” 

If I wasn’t blushing I am now. Even the tips of Dain’s ears tinge with pink.

“He can’t hurt you right? You’re a squad leader and he’d have to call a quorum?”

“Yes but he can hurt you two.”

“I expected better from you Aestos. Should learn to hide your friends better.” He locks eyes on me. He was trying to bait us and I gave him all the ammunition he needed to make my life hell. 

“Run. Now” Dain orders and I grab Violet's arm and we bolt. 

My brain is mush throughout history, but of course Violet is the star pupil without even trying. We just barely make it to battle brief. Stuck in the first row thanks to the seats Rhiannon saves for us. 

Professor Markham stands at the front of the class as Devra steps aside to make room for him. His eyes soften as he lands on Violet. Of course he would recognize her. She trained under him for most of her life and he was certain she would be the best scribe in years. And she would have been. Still is. 

We launch right into the first question. No preamble to get us ready, straight to business. My eyes cloud over as I try to study the map, trying to focus on the details. This was always Violet’s strength not mine but I fight to keep up with her as she mutters to herself. 

Markham pushes us for questions and I hear Vilet mutter something to Rhiannon who calls out loudly. 

“What altitude was the village at?”

His eyes flicker to Violet who makes a point of looking anywhere but him. 

“A little less than a thousand feet. Why?”

She shrinks into herself a little. I don’t blame her, MArkham is intense when he wants to be. 

“Just seems a little high for an attack.”

“Keep going.” Markham pushes and Violet chimes in when Rhiannon pauses. 

Question after question and my head is reeling trying to keep up. I’m trying to connect the dots that she’s already seen. Jack eventually cuts her off and I clench my hands by my side. Finding something to twirl between my fingers so I don’t choke him for the tone he uses with Violet. That self-righteous, pompous tone. The asshole has the nerve to try to talk down to her when she easily knows more than even the second years. Devra scolds him for it. And I only give him a small smirk as I turn back to the front of the room. 

We’re dismissed shortly after and we all file into the gym. Now this. This I’m ready for. Violet may have me beat in academics But I can run circles around the first years in the gym. 

We’re called to the mats in pairs. 

We all watch in shock as Jack Barlow snaps the neck of his opponent. The sickening sound of bone crunching threatens to bring up my breakfast. He lets go of the limp body as the instructor rushes forward. Shouting at him. Barlow just stands with a shrug as he looks towards Violet and I. He’s strong but he’s big. Uncoordinated. He’d go down easy but Malek help you if he gets his arms around you. 

I’m finally called to the mat after a flawless victory from Rhiannon. Stepping onto the mat, I will my focus on the person standing in front of me. I didn’t listen to their name. I don’t care about their name. I care about the fact that when they lunge at me, there's a slight twitch in their left shoulder. I dodge it easily enough. Side stepping out of the way. I catch their still extended arm between their wrist and elbow. He tries to swing out of my grip but I only use it as leverage to twist his arm behind his back, palm facing up. I don’t hesitate to bring my elbow down on his extended arm. The telltale crunch letting me know I broke some bone. He cries out and I follow him as he falls to the ground. I have to keep him from hitting me.

“Yield damn it. I broke your arm.” I grit out. But he doesn’t. Just swings widely, trying to find any purchase as I pin him on his side. And I’m suddenly more grateful than words can explain as his hand makes contact with the back of my neck. I tense for a second, expecting the wash of fire to explode from every nerve in my body. But there's nothing. Another heartbeat and nothing. I’m so happy I could cheer, but I only put more pressure onto his broken arm and he cries out again. I twist his shoulder back slightly, knee resting in the hollow of his armpit and I can feel the muscle tense under me as I place myself to dislocate his shoulder. 

“Fine. I yield. I yield.” He yells as I still my foot. Stopping just in time for me to push him off of me. My shove knocks him onto his back and I can see the way he’s fighting the urge to cradle his arm. I sigh and stick my hand out for him to grab. He shoves it away and struggles to stand, slightly off balance. 

Someone escorts him to the menders and I file back in line. 

“He didn’t even touch you.” Rhiannon gasps out when I stand next to her. I shrug. Little does she know I’ve spent my whole life avoiding that very thing. Because if they do, I’m down. If I’m down then I’m dead. And no one here needs to know that. It’s bad enough they seem to be able to sniff out Violet’s weakness. But seeing mine. That might just be a death sentence for the both of us. 

One more fight and then I tense as Violet’s name gets called. She paired up against a pink-haired second year and I freeze completely when I see the rebel mark on her forearm. Shit. 

The two circle each other on the mat, whispering to each other too low for me to hear over the sound of my heartbeat in my ears. 

Imogen is fast. Faster than humanly possible. 

“You can’t use your powers here.” Dain shouts. As Imogen flips Violet onto her back, my hand shoots out onto Dain’s arm. My fingers digging into the skin on his forearm to keep me from sprinting into the ring to pull Imogen off of my sister. A quick flash of metal makes my blood pressure skyrocket. She tried to use a dagger. I don’t feel relieved as Violet sends a punch that I know messes up her hand. Her thumb tucked in at just the right angle for the ligament to pop. 

Imogen is a blur once again and has her pinned before the instructor can scold her for using her powers. “Yield” She calls as she shoves Violet’s face into the mat. She doesn’t and I watch in horror as Imogen pulls her arms further behind her back. Further than arms should bend and I lunge forward at the same time as Dain. 

“Damn it, Violet, yield.” I call out. My voice died down just in time to hear the sickening crunch of bone again. This time followed by a cry I’m too familiar with. 

Emetterio calls for the end of the match as Violet goes limp in front of me. 

I’m rushing past Imogen, shoving her out of the way as I grab Violet. Shaking her slightly to try to get her to come back around. 

“Oops.” Imogen says in a sickly sweet tone. She walks another step before I trip her, leg hooking against her ankle. She topples to the ground and I roll myself onto her. Straddling her hips, and pinning her wrists to her sides with my knees. She thrashes in my hold but I just place more of my weight on her, pressing harder with my foot. 

“Try that shit again and you’re dead.” 

“Not if I kill her first.” She snarls at me. And I push until I feel the bone move in her hand. 

Suddenly I feel someone lifting me up by the collar of my shirt. Dain’s brown eyes stare into mine. 

“She’s in your squad. Back off before you get in trouble.” He whispers as I try to squirm out of his hold. 

“I don’t care.” I hiss back. 

“But I do. Stop. Or are you going to make me pull rank?” I stopped squirming. Pushing myself out of his grasp. 

“Go calm down. Now.” Dain hisses when I find my footing.

 Imogen is smiling up at me. Like I did exactly what she wanted. And I probably did. But as I walk out of the gym, I realize I don’t give a shit what they think. Not if it means protecting Violet.

Taglist: @ninthcircleofprythian @sarawritestories @milswrites @daycourtofficial

[countrymusiclover]

5 - Tavern to Red Keep

Part 6

The Lion Knight and Dragon Princess

Tags- just send an ask to be added @cdragons @kmc1989 @starkleila @noirrose21-blog @lover-of-books-and-tea

The next morning Jaime and I had slowly made our way downstairs before the tavern was supposed to be open so he could leave without getting much slack from the citizens who would feel so honored to see him. I just wanted it to be me and him at this moment that could be our last. He held my hand in his right one standing in the doorway with me. “I hate to think you won’t be visiting me almost everyday for a while.”

“Don’t worry, I have something else already covered.” He reassured me by tucking some loose stands of silver hair behind my ear.

Raising a brow at his statement I didn’t quite understand what he meant by that sentence. “What do you mean you have something else other than me just working here to hide out?”

“I have some very clever help inside the Red Keep.” Jaime pushed the tavern door revealing Tyrion leaning in the doorway.

I clicked my tongue with a smirk playing on my lips. “Tyrion Lannister.”

“It’s been far too long since we’ve seen each other, princess.” He paused, giving me a bow out of respect, making me smile. “Forgive me, I’m not used to bowing especially to the current queen who sometimes wishes me dead.”

I held up a hand gesturing for him to rise to his feet. “That’s not necessary, Tyrion. Please get up, get up.”

“If I called you princess you’d yell at me. I feel hurt by your reaction to him.” Jaime responded, squeezing my hand that he still held in his.

Tyrion shrugged his shoulders. “I can’t help that I have a different relationship with her than you do, brother.”

“Lannister, do you have my next two rent coins if you’re going to take my help from me or not?” Jack the tavern owner asked, entering our conversation moving around the bar.

Tyrion reached inside his pocket tossing the coin bag up into the air and into the owner’s waiting hands. “A Lannister always pays his debt.”

“You can have her now, dwarf.” The owner walked out of the room leaving the three of us alone where I finally had to look at the younger lion needing to know whatever plan he had up his sleeve this time. He saved my life 17 years ago after all.

“So what exactly is the brilliant plan running through that head of yours this time?”

Tyrion waved his hands in front of his chest telling me of his grand plan. “Jaime and I agreed that while he is away you need to have someone looking out for your safety. I am the Hand of the King now meaning I will forever live inside the Red Keep and so should you.”

“How could you get me back in the Red Keep exactly?”

He finished his statement with hopeful green eyes. “You pose as a handmaiden for Ned Stark’s eldest daughter Sansa. She’s a sweet and innocent girl so there’s a very unlikely chance that she would tell anyone about your true identity if she found out about who you are.”

“Wow. I - that’s actually extremely clever. Except that I have no handmaiden experience to pose as one.” I hung my mouth open nearly at a loss for words.

Tyrion pointed his index finger at me. “You didn’t think you could pretend to be a tavern girl and now you act like it’s second nature.”

“He’s got you there, Vaella.” Jaime sent me a smile agreeing with his brother.

The dwarf clasped his hands together proudly. “And you’re a quick poker learner too.”

“I doubt poker will come up pretending to be a handmaiden but I appreciate the confidence boost.” I grinned looking up at Jaime seeing him grinning down at me. Jaime followed us up to the castle with me giving him one last hug before he left on the KingsRoad. “You’ve made me a promise and you better keep it.”

Jaime held my hands in his staring down at me longingly. “Don’t worry, Vaella. I made a vow and I intend to keep it.”

“I love you.” I blurted out too terrified to wait another 17 years before I told him what I never had the courage to when I realized I had fallen for him.

Jaime wasn’t confident to say it back considering he hadn’t told her the truth of the secret he had between them. He didn’t ever know if he could confidently tell her about his children or even about him and Cersei for the first few years of Robert’s reign. “I’ll come back to you, Princess Vaella.” He rather did what he knew he could do, cupping my face in his hands, crashing his lips upon mine until we heard footsteps coming down to us.

“I’ll watch over her, Jaime. You have my word.” Tyrion stood on the end of the rock steps waiting for me to follow him up the road.

Jaime nodded to his brother dismounting his horse and riding off in the distance away from the two of us. “Thank you, little brother.”

Tyrion had led me through the hallways and back into my former home that I hadn’t set foot inside since the morning my father was killed to protect the population of this city. Hiding out in his chambers Tyrion had provided me with a silk red gown and some black dress shoes to wear compared to my tavern clothing. “I must admit red does flatter you, my lady.”

“Thanks for the compliment.” I replied standing in front of the mirror tying my hair up in a bun with the same bandana I always wore. Coloring my hair seemed to be too much of a task for disaster.

Tyrion sat at his table sipping on a glass of wine letting me have my moment of silence before talking about the girl. “Sansa is smart and she loves lemon cakes. She’s also been repeatedly hurt physically and mentally by Joffrey so she might come off as rude when you first meet.”

“I’ll find a way for her to trust me.” I sighed brushing my hands down the silk fabric ever so gently to not tear the fabric.

Sniffing the air I must confess that it was rather foreign to not smell wildfire burning through the castle or at least the stench of my father walking through the castle after setting someone he believed to be an enemy of the crown on fire. “Do you ever think about that night when he died. Where you were. What were you doing or thinking at the time?” Tyrion asked, tapping his fingers on the cup in his hands.

“Everyday I think about that whole thing.” I stood there doing my best to hold back tears not wanting to cry in front of him for he would never know how much it haunts me, some days worse than others in fact.

Tyrion wished his mind wasn’t so curious because he knew that he should just leave the poor girl alone. Yet she wasn’t just some girl. She was the last living Targaryen as far as the realm was concerned and he had a billion questions he wished to ask her for Jaime was the only one who got a mirror glimpse into the princess's life. “Anything in particular comes to mind?”

“Believe it or not, yes. I wish my old handmaiden Amber was still here. She - she and I were almost as close like she was my sister.” I sucked in a breath staring back at myself remembering the last time I had worn a red dress almost similar to this one I wore now. For I once too was an innocent girl who wished I could have the love story in tales of knights and lore we were told as children growing up.

“Can I open my eyes yet, Vae?” Amber asked me while I stood behind the changing stand in my bed chambers hiding behind the curtain.

I scolded her wanting her to play the part along with me for fun. “Not until you say the words first then I’ll reveal myself. You’ve seen how it’s done when my parents enter the room.”

“Huhh fine.” She huffed, clearing her throat doing her best impression. “Presenting her royal highness Princess Vaella Targaryen. The future Lady Lannister of Casterly Rock!”

I skipped around the stand pushing her hands down from her face proudly. “Feast your eyes.”

“It's beautiful, Vae.” She grinned brightly up at me.

I twirled around in circles in a silk red dress without shoes on my feet. My hair was completely loose everywhere and I had one of my simple tiaras on my head. “Can't you just see me now, Amber. Leading a household of my own and marrying Jaime.”

“How would you plan on that happening? You believe your father will remove him from his vows?”

I sent her a glare. “Just daydream with me.”

“Okay, okay, what is your fantasy bestie?” Amber asked, clasping her hands together in her lap sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Jaime and I shall become man and wife and move back to his home at Casterly Rock. I shall have babies with beautiful blonde hair and purple eyes.”

She teased me. “How many children? You are aware of what has to happen for you to be with child aren’t you?”

“Yes I'm aware, Amber. They have sex. Don't patronize me.” I stuck my tongue out to her. “I'd say three like me and my brothers. Now shall you dance with me, Lady Morgan?”

She put her hands in mine and I tugged her up to her feet. “Of course, Lady Lannister.” We began twirling around the room in a fit of giggling where I was certain that the servants could hear us, but I had not a care in the world.

[saksukei]

ushijima love letters au

masterlist | suna love letters au

you laughed as you read the crinkled letter with messy writing, in your hands,, how long had it been? eight or nine years? time had gone by so quickly,,,

you distinctly remember the first time you ever received ushijima’s cute little notes.

you had come back from the chemistry lab,, and found a piece of paper on your desk saying “i hope you had breakfast.”

assuming that it was a silly prank, you just tossed the little note alongside some papers in the depths of your school bag,,,

till you received another one the next day,, saying “morning runs are healthy. so maybe go on one sometime?”

and you were like (─.─||) is this person trying to say that I've put on weight??!!! DO THEY KNOW IM HUMAN AND ITS NORMAL TO PUT ON WEIGHT

you threw the note in your bag again

and then, the same happened the next day

except this note said,,, “sorry about the last chit. my friend told me I sounded rude. how was your day?”

you were like ??? can this person not make their mind up??? hello??

and so you kept on receiving them,, they ranged from “hope you did your math homework” to “carry a spare water bottle” to “stay safe when going back home”

and you got so used to receiving these notes that your day sort of felt incomplete without them,,, and you thought that you wanted to find the culprit behind them

and so,, you hid behind your class door,, to check who would come in to leave the little notes on your desk,,,

someone did come into class and it was not the person you expected. it was tendou. you figured you should confront him, it was now or never.

“so you're the one that's been sending me chits?!” you ask, and tendou jumps, not expecting you to be there.

“uhh–” he trails off, scratching the back of his head.

“sorry, I don't mean to put you in an awkward spot but I wanted to thank you for–”

“it’s not me, I'm only the messenger,” tendou interrupts. “he’s going to kill me if I tell you this–but it's ushijima,” tendou explains. “he likes you but he doesn't know how to say it so I suggested this way would be more better.”

and you were like (╯°□°）╯︵ ┻━┻

“yOU MEAN USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI THE VOLLEYBALL TEAM CAPTAIN AND ACE LIKES ME????”

“sheesh no need to yell,” tendou retorted,,

“sorry, force of habit,” you smile sheepishly. “is there any chance you could get me to talk to ushijima?”

“as long as you don't reject him too harshly–then yes.”

tendou leads you to the captain who is practicing his spikes in the gym.

ushijima stares blankly when he sees you entering, despite his heart going fifty miles per hour. why were you here? you never visited the gymnasium.

he had in fact first seen you in his math class when you sat near the window and he was sitting behind you, watching you draw doodles on your textbook. eventually, it became a routine, where he'd chuckle at your little drawings of your math teacher.

he started looking for you during lunch hour, just having your presence around was enough for him. he never found it within himself to have the courage to talk to you. you were so nice, so kind and so out of his league.

it wasn't until tendou suggested this little idea that ushijima thought he might finally get to interact with you.

“hi, ushijima can I talk to you?” you ask, shyly and tendou nudges ushijima towards you, who manages to stutter out “yes you may,” following you outside.

“i saw tendou leaving the small chit on my desk,” you confess, and while ushijima has never been hit by a volleyball on the face, he sure feels like it would hurt less.

“i–i don't mean to embarrass you or anything!” you clear out, witnessing his spiral. “i wanted to say thank you, the notes were really sweet. And I was actually wondering if you'd like to go out on a date.”

youve never seen such a stoic man get red so fast. “i’d like that a lot yes.”

and while it's been years since school ended and you two have been together forever, he still leaves you the cutest notes.

[iwritesickfic]

So this past week I've had an ear infection combined with a sore throat and a fever. It's probably been over a decade since my last ear infection but they come with some serious wump potential. This made me think of Theo having to perform with a sore ear and any other list of symptoms you'd like.

hey there! thanks for the prompt ❤️ hope you enjoy!! :)

“You don’t have to do this,” Seamus says for what feels like the thousandth time. Theo sighs, slumping deeper into his chair.

“Stop saying that,” he mumbles. It’s not that Seamus is wrong - it’s the opposite. And the more he says it the more Theo wants to agree with him. This is the perfect storm for him to call off a performance. He has a double ear infection. His head is killing him. He’s at a festival in the middle of the desert and he’s running a 101 fever.

Still, people are going to be so fucking mad at him if he bails. This is his first performance in over a year, and he knows that people bought tickets and flew out here just to see him. The festival would be livid, even though there’s a clause in the contract exactly for this situation.

“You want some ice?” Seamus asks, and Theo nods, even though it hurts. Seamus is back in only a few moments with a bag of ice wrapped in a damp towel, and Theo gasps as he presses it to the tender, throbbing space behind his jaw. “Too much?”

Theo shakes his head and takes the ice, holding it under his ear with his trembling hand. He feels like he can hardly breathe.

Seamus’s fingers begin to work through his damp hair, gathering it into a small bun. He’s especially careful around Theo’s ears, his hands moving slowly and deliberately. He ties the bun loosely, then kisses the nape of his neck.

“God, I wanna fucking die,” Theo mumbles, and Seamus slides a water bottle into his hands. He doesn't need to be told, just starts taking small sips. The heat is making him nauseous and each mouthful feels heavy in his stomach.

“It'll be ok,” Seamus says softly. He kisses him again, this time on his temple, and even though it sends a shock of pain through his pounding head he doesn't mind. If there weren’t so many people watching and if it wasn’t so hot, he might have pulled him closer and buried his face in Seamus’s throat and let himself cry. But there are, and it is, so he lets Seamus walk away.

His set starts in only 45 minutes. They're already doing the changeover, stage hands hurrying back and forth with cables and guitars and mics. He can hear the crowd that's gathered. He's a headliner, he can't back out. He just can't.

Seamus comes back with some food, which Theo doesn't eat. He chokes down some ibuprofen and drinks some electrolyte thing Seamus managed to find, but he doesn't feel any better. The fact he's shivering now doesn't bode well, his body cloaked in a cold sweat. His hair is wet, and his tank top is clinging to his chest. And though they haven't spoken a word to him, someone dressed suspiciously like a medic is loitering around at a middle distance.

At least Seamus has stopped telling him he doesn't have to do it.

It's only a few minutes before the set is supposed to start when he decides he'd better finally put in his in-ears. He's standing in the walkway between the makeshift green room and stage side, staring at the two small devices in his palm. He feels weak standing up - dizzy and disoriented. He's trying to work up the courage to actually put the monitors in when Seamus comes up beside him.

He rests his hand lightly on Theo's upper back, and he doesn't need to say anything for Theo to know what he's asking.

“I'll be fine,” he mumbles, even though he can feel his heartbeat in his ears, and the throbbing is enough to make his knees weak. His tongue feels heavy in his mouth, and it's making him slur his words. His ears are ringing.

“I know you will,” Seamus whispers back, and Theo chokes out a laugh.

“I'm not…I'm not fine right now. But I'll be fine.” He's staring at the in-ears. Seamus follows his gaze.

“Do you want-”

“No, no, I…” Theo trails off, quickly bringing one up to his right ear. He hesitates a moment before starting to put it in. Immediately, there's a burst of white hot pain that lances down his neck and all the way through his head. He presses past it, but it only gets worse. He makes a sound between a gasp and a cry, and the next thing he registers is Seamus’s voice.

“Shh, shh, you're alright,” Seamus whispers. “Here, baby, sit down.”

He's shaking all over, and it feels like there's a knife through his eardrum. His breath is short, and he's fighting to keep from actually whimpering.

He feels himself being lowered into a chair, and he can't tell whether it's tears on his cheeks or sweat. The pain is enough to send his stomach into his throat, and he can't get enough air to make it go away. He hopes no one heard Seamus call him baby. He only calls him that when he’s too sick to think straight. Theo doesn't even like being kissed in public, so the intimacy of Seamus calling him “baby” is something he doesn't want anyone bearing witness too.

His fingers are shaking so hard he can barely take the small earpiece out, and though it sends another jolt of pain through his head, he feels immediate relief when it's out. The world is spinning violently though, and he can barely keep his eyes open.

“We need a monitor. On stage monitor,” he hears Seamus say, and then there's a mess of people talking.

Then he feels hands on his knees, and he opens his eyes to see Seamus crouched in front of him, looking how he always looks when Theo’s like this. Worried, worry poorly hidden by a small smile. Seeing his face tears a sob from Theo’s throat, and he's almost immediately wracked with them, chest shuddering and heaving.

Seamus immediately pulls him into his arms, his chest so solid and steady compared to Theo’s tense, trembling body.

“Oh, baby…” Seamus says, and Theo presses himself fully into Seamus's arms. “You're gonna be alright.”

Theo can barely get words out between sobs. Seamus's hand is on the back of Theo’s head, holding him against his neck.

“I can't, I can't do this,” he chokes, and he feels Seamus sigh.

“You don't have to.”

“No, I-” he's gasping for breath between sobs. “I-”

“Breathe. Just breathe.”

He tries, but he feels like he can't force his lungs to draw in anything more than a gasp at a time. His head hurts so badly he's sure he's about to pass out. He's about to vomit.

He feels someone touch his back, grabbing his shoulder to pull him away.

“Get the fuck off me,” he chokes out.

“Hey, hey. It's alright,” Seamus whispers, but Theo would rather die than have the entire crew see him like this. “I'm sorry, I…can we just have some privacy, please?” Seamus asks, and there's more muffled talking. “I'm so sorry. He’s…I know.” The talking seems to fade, and Seamus rubs his back. “You're ok. Just relax.”

He sits there for what feels like a long time, trying to catch his breath. The pain in his head doesn't get any better, but he's at least able to calm himself down enough to not feel like he's about to pass out.

Eventually, Seamus gets him back up into the chair and slowly, the crew begins to appear again, though they're pointedly trying not to look directly at him.

The medic that he'd suspected was for him walks over with her duffel bag and smiles at him as she starts to unpack her things.

“Do you mind?” she asks, stopping short with her gloved hand hovering over his arm, and he feels a wave of shame.

“No, go ahead. I'm sorry, if I…I promise I'm not, like, an asshole celebrity or something,” he says, and she laughs. Her whole demeanor seems to lighten as wipes the back of his hand with an alcohol pad.

“No worries at all. I know you're probably in a lot of pain.”

“No, I…I'm sorry,” he says again, and winces as a needle enters the back of his hand. He turns his head so he doesn't have to see, and his gaze lands on Seamus, who's talking with Zeke and a few people dressed in black and wearing headsets and holding clipboards. Stage managers, producers, festival staff… He wonders idly if Seamus is negotiating a cancellation.

Part of him would be pissed - it should be his own choice if he performs or not - but another, much larger part would be immensely grateful. He shudders as he feels the cold liquid of the IV snaking up his arm.

“What's in that?” He asks.

“Just saline. You're pretty dehydrated.”

Seamus starts to walk over and Theo feels another wave of nausea crash over him.

“What's going on?” he asks, and Seamus fiddles with the laminated pass around his neck.

“So they agreed it's within contract if you need to back out, but if you…” Seamus adjusts the sunglasses pushed up in his hair and sighs, “If you really want to, what we can do is basically get you an on stage monitor so you don't have to wear the in-ears. And they can get you a stool so you don't have to stand the whole time.”

Theo nods before remembering that moving his head even a tiny bit makes the pain in his ears worsen.

“I...um…” He mumbles. The throbbing in his ears is almost unbearable. Even as the medic runs a thermometer over his forehead he feels the pain worsen. He's so exhausted, he's so sick. “I can't,” he finally says and Seamus nods, expression not changing at all. The backs of his fingertips brush Theo's temple.

“Sure?” he asks.

“Yes,” Theo says, voice soft. He feels a dizzying mix of relief, guilt, and anxiety pressing on his chest as soon as he says it. Even so, he knows he can't. If he tries to go out there…

Seamus sighs and squeezes his shoulder.

“Ok.”

[sentientcave]

Part 1 - Part 2

Contains: Gals being pals, homoerotic speculation, brief mentions of alcohol and kink (conversationally)

SFW - Word Count: ~2.8k

You only had a few days to get used to living with Soap before she was gone again, but now, without her exuberant presence, the apartment feels emptier than it did when it was just you living there. You fall into a familiar pattern, running the occasional errand, but mostly just getting up, getting coffee, going to work and going home. It’s… lonelier than you expected.

You’re not sure when to expect her back. When you’d asked, she’d just laughed. “As long as it takes, kitty. Dinnae worry. I’ll have Katie send ye the rent if I’m no’ back before month end.” She didn’t explain who Katie was, and you were a bit afraid to ask. She’d probably just tell you that it’s a classified matter anyway.

The idea that she could be gone that long, or even longer, makes your stomach clench with worry. Perhaps you’ve only known Jamie for a week or so, really, but she’s already gotten under your skin and made a home for herself. There’s signs of her all over your apartment too— The big green couch, her 3 in 1 soap in the shower (That you’re pretty sure she didn’t use once during the days she’d been there, electing instead to use your products), her winter jacket in the closet, her ‘going out’ boots in the hall. A picture of her and her cousins stuck to the fridge with a Rangers Football Club magnet. It’s the only picture you have of her, and it’s many years old, featuring a gangly, teenaged Jamie that hadn’t filled out into the powerhouse of a woman that you’d met.

You’re wiling away the hours at work, when your favourite barista, Alex, comes in after her shift and chats with you while she browses the romance section. She only ever buys the ones with horny oil paintings on the cover. For the aesthetic, she says, but you're pretty sure she's just a harlequin fan. You can’t blame her. You love a good romance too.

"You ever go to those workshops?" she asks while you’re cashing her out. She gestures at the board behind you. "I've been thinking about going to the ropes one, but haven't worked up the courage to go alone."

"No! I probably should sometime. I think my landlord runs one of them. I'm not sure which though." You slide her books into a paper bag and hand her the receipt.

"Here. I'll give you my number in case you ever want someone to go with. I think it could be fun." She scribbles down her number on the back of her receipt and slides it back across the counter to you with a smile. “I’ve been thinking about—”

The door jangles. “Heya, kitty!” It’s Jamie, grinning ear to ear, a freshly healed scar on her chin and a bandage on her arm, covering half of her SAS tattoo. She sidles past Alex and comes around the counter to hug you tightly. She smells like sweat and gunpowder. She must have come straight to you after getting home. “Missed ya. Been a right slog the last few weeks. Ghost got hisself shot and ugh, he’s all fine out in the field, carryin’ on no problem, but as soon as we’re back at the safe house he’s cryin’ about how much he needs me tae take care of him. Just an absolute wet biscuit of a man.” She glances over at Alex, like she hadn’t even noticed her standing there. “Oh, hello, cutie. Sorry, didnae mean to interrupt.” Her eyes zero in on the reciept with the phone number scrawled across it.

“Oh, it’s, um, it’s fine,” Alex says nervously. “Are you— Um—”

“Alex, this is Jamie. She’s my new roommate. Jamie, Alex. She works at the coffee shop down the way.”

Jamie sticks a hand out, but leaves her other arm wrapped around you. “Nice ta meet you. Been in there a couple times but ye must work the mornin’ shift, aye? I’m always due on base early mornin’.”

“So, you’re, um, military?” Alex asks. She winces slightly when Soap shakes her hand.

“Sure am. Sorry, hen, didnae mean to squeeze so hard. Ye get used to it bein’ a bloody cock measuring contest with the lads on base. Gotta adjust for civvies.” She smiles apologetically. “What were you girlies goin’ on about before I came in? Don’t want to leave your conversation unfinished before I get to monopolizin’ our girl’s time, aye?”

“We were just talking about the workshops. On the board. Alex mentioned that she was thinking about going to the ropes one.”

“Is that the one yer handsome landlord runs?” Soap asked. “And is it like, knots for boats and whatnot, or the fun kind? Wouldnae mind tyin’ ye up, kitty.”

“I’m… Not sure. It’s kind of unclear, but there’s an email listed. I’ll get some clarification.” You give Soap a side-long glance. She looks a bit more excited than you’re sure what to do with. “And besides that, there’s no way I’m letting you tie me up.”

The light in her eyes only gets more intense. “You gonna tie me up, kitty? Have yer way with me?”

Alex clears her throat, looking a bit nervous. “Well, um. I’ll see you around. Text me and let me know about the course. Or if you just want to hang out. I’m free after one like every day.”

“I can also keep you apprised of when we get a truck-load of harlequins in, give you the first go through,” you say. “I’ll see you Wednesday, eh?”

“Yeah. Bright and early.” She smiles at you. “And, um, nice to meet you, Jamie the roommate.”

“See ye around, Alex the coffee girl.” Soap waited for the door to close behind Alex before she spoke again. “Looks like she’s got a little crush on ye, kitty. Didnae know I had so much competition.”

You roll your eyes. “She doesn’t. She’s just being friendly.”

“Oh sure, kitty. Me too.” Soap withdrew a step and leaned against the counter. “Ye want to come out for a pint tonight? It’s a tradition, with me and the lads. We go out, get blootered, captain goes home early, Gaz flirts with someone’s girlfriend, and then we have a scrap outside an’ Ghost breaks it up. Ye can help him, it’ll be good ta have another voice’f reason to balance us out.”

“I think a pint is a far cry from, er, getting blootered,” you say, laughing. “But sure. I don’t start work till eleven tomorrow. I can stand to get a little silly. So long as you’re sure the lads don’t mind. I don’t want to overstep.”

“No’ possible. They like you a lot. Maybe a little too much, if ye ask me. I’m goan to head home and get cleaned up, aye? Do ye mind if I eat the leftovers in the fridge? I’m starvin’.”

“You already ate them, didn’t you?” you ask. There was really no other reason why she would know that there were leftovers to eat.

“Weal. Yes. But yer a kind soul, kitty. I knew ye’d say yes. I’ll buy all yer drinks tonight tae make up for it.”

“Oh fine,” you say. It’s hard to even imagine being mad at her. You suspect that it’s a waste of energy, when she’s just a big puppy dog of a person. Scolding her for anything isn’t likely to change her behaviour, it’s just going to make her feel terrible during the scolding. And you don’t quite have the heart to scold Soap, with her big blue eyes. “I was going to go round to the shops tonight, so maybe you can go tomorrow? I have a list, and I can give you money for it. I just work till five and I won’t have a chance.”

“I can do tha’, kitty. When d’ye get off work today? Three?”

“Five. A couple more hours. Shouldn’t be long.”

“Hours! Aw, c’mon, kitty.” She pouted, as though that were going to get you out of work any faster. “Can’t ye close up early? There’s no one here.”

“Jamie, it’s my job. If I closed up early every time I felt like it I wouldn’t have a job for very long, and then you’d be the one looking for a new roommate.”

Jamie grumbled about how she wouldn’t let that happen, as if she had any control over the state of your finances, but headed home to shower without too much more complaining, although she rather disconcertingly mentioned offhand, as she was heading out the door, that she would go through your closet and find you something cute to wear. You really hoped that didn’t mean pull everything out of your dresser drawers and make a mess.

Things pick up at the shop enough to keep you from dwelling on what Jamie was up to— And she was uncharacteristically quiet on her end as well, only texting you once with a blurry picture of Red Herring scampering down the hallway captioned with CREATURE SIGHTING, and a second one of her and Red cuddled up on the couch, faces smushed together. You take a sneaky picture of a customer with a yellow coat and bright orange boots with Big Bird: Confirmed written across it. You’re careful to leave their face out of frame, but you do feel a bit bad about it, and elect to ‘accidentally’ not ring through one of the books, giving it to them for free instead. The return text makes your transgression against public decency almost worth it.

LMFAOOO<

Finally, it’s time to lock up the store and walk home. It gets dark early now, and the sun is already setting over your street, the shadows growing long, the gold light of dusk painting the edges of the clouds, and the buildings with a little gilt paint. It feels good to know that Jamie’s home. You feel like you can breathe properly again, like you’d been holding your breath for weeks and weeks, not knowing if she was alright. You’d been sleepwalking through your days, and you’re finally awake again, able to appreciate the colour of the sky and the half-familiar and familiar faces you walk by. You know you must be smiling, because you get plenty of smiles in return.

Happiness is an infectious thing.

You check the mailbox for the usual pile of flyers and bills, and sort through them on the way up the stairs. Mostly just junk, and your internet and credit card bills. And an envelope with so many stamps on it that your address is written off to the side in cramped letters. There’s no return address on it.

You unlock the door and drop your bag to the side, in it’s usual spot. Soap’s work boots are neatly placed beside the nearly identical ‘going out’ boots, dusty and worn in from the weeks away. Jamie is sitting at the table, scribbling in a notebook, Red Herring sitting on the table beside her, bapping at the end of her pen every time it approaches his side of the notebook.

"Hm-- Oh! Hi, kitty!" Jamie closes the notebook, tucking her pen inside, and gets up from her seat at the table. Her hair is wet, down around her shoulders to air dry, and she's wearing a tank top and a pair of black boxer shorts with a skull pelvis on them. You suspect that they belong to Ghost. The idea that he wears skulls all the way down to his skivvies makes you like him even more.

Are they dating? You're not sure what the rules are for military relationships, but you suspect that a lieutenant dating a sergeant is not allowed under usual circumstances. Not that you could blame them. Ghost is huge and actually pretty sweet, under the growly voice and mask. He was covered in cat hair by the time he'd gone home, all those weeks ago, because Red liked him so much. And Jamie was a tall, beautiful, muscled-up amazon woman. And they had their whole warriors bond thing going on. It wouldn't be a surprise for them to be interested in each other. The flirting she’s been doing with you is likely no more than just playful fun. You don’t really mind, you just have to keep yourself from reading into it too much.

“Welcome home, by the way,” you say as Soap grabs you into an even tighter hug than before. “I missed you. And I was starting to get worried.”

“You didnae get my letter?” she asked.

“Letter?” you ask. You hold up the envelope with all the stamps. “This?”

“Oh! Guess it didnae make it back before I did. No time to read it right now, kitty. Ye’ve got ta get ready.” She pulls the stack of mail from your hand and tosses it down on the counter before dragging you down the hallway towards your room.

“Do I have time to shower?” you ask mildly.

“Do ye need to?” Soap leans in and sniffs you audibly, trying not to laugh. “Smell fine to me, kitty.”

You giggle and swat her away. “I could smell better."

“Bah. Fine. I’ll wait in yer room, I found a few cute outfits for ye.”

“You don’t have to. I’ll be a few, if you want to get ready yourself.”

“Psshh, it only takes me a minute. Want ye to help me with my eyeliner too, if you don’t mind. Ye do that little swooptie thing? Whenever I try tha’ I cannae get them even.”

“Of course.”

You shower and towel dry your body, before you wrap it around yourself. It's one of those nice extra big ones that actually covers everything. You bought it after making a mad dash across the hall when Fern's boyfriend was staying over, trying not to flash him, and made the decision immediately after to not go through that kind of stress again. He had become a too-regular presence in your home to ignore in the months before Fern moved in with him.

Jamie makes you try on five different outfits before letting you settle on a skirt that hits around the knee and a flowy yellow tank top, and she finally goes to get dressed herself while you dab on makeup and fix your hair. After weeks apart, having Soap back is refreshing, even if she does have a low tolerance for personal space. Out in the field, that closeness is probably necessary, it probably keeps her and her teammates alive, but here it only serves to fluster you and set your off balance. Jamie doesn’t seem at all aware what effect she has on you, and her flippant, flirty comments don’t help matters either.

Helping her do her makeup is the trickiest part, really. She’s twitchy and fidgety, and you end up pinning her flat to the flat to your bed, one hand holding her jaw and the other holding your eyeliner pen, a knee on either side of her rib cage. The angle is awkward when you do the other eye, and you have to lean in closer, steadying your wrist against her forehead. You don’t remove your hand from her jaw until you’ve finished either, well aware that she’ll start talking the moment you release her and make it impossible to finish up neatly.

“There!” you say, sitting back to admire your handiwork. She blinks up at you for a long moment, her blue eyes made all the more bright by the contrasting band of black on her upper lid. “Actually—” You twist and grab your makeup bag, and grab her face again, adding a swipe of peachy pink lip-gloss to her mouth.

Uncharacteristically, she just lays there for a moment, still quiet, looking dazed and flushed. For a moment, you feel a rush of… Well, you would hesitate to call it euphoria, but there’s a certain satisfaction in rendering Soap speechless and pink, when she’s an amazon, and you’re just a round little woman who’s idea of a workout is stocking shelves and crating books around.

But then again, you are sitting directly on her diaphragm, and you know you aren’t light. “Oh, goodness, I’m squishing you, aren’t I?” you scramble to get off of her, and offer her a helping hand up. “We should get going.”

“Right. Yeah. O’course, kitty. Let’s go.” She pulls in a deep breath, shaking off the daze, her familiar devastating grin sliding back into place. “Wouldnae want to keep the lads waiting, aye?”

Maybe it’s just wishful thinking, but you think, just maybe, she does want to keep them waiting. You snag a cardigan from your closet and stop to to give Redd Herring a scritch behind the ears before you follow her out into the hallway and lock up the apartment.

She offers you her arm, like she’s some kind of gentleman (which she would not be, even if she was a man), and you take it, looking forward to the night out.

***

Image Credits:

Top Row: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 Bottom Row: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 Background

Any other graphics used are canva elements

[padfootagain]

We’ll Speak Through the Screen if We Can’t Find the Words for Real

Hello! Today, we’re answering a request made a while ago for Ben Barnes by an anon: “Hey! I saw you're still taking requests and it's okay if you take your time to write this I just have to send it to you before I forget about it 🙈 So, I thought about this idea where reader is friends with Ben and she's been harboring a crush for years, but she never told him anything because she doesn't want to ruin their friendship. But she's encouraged by a friend to confess her feelings before it's too late and she loses him forever to someone else. Reader is too shy and she doesn't have the courage to confess face to face so this friend of hers suggests she films a video confessing her love and she sends it to him, she does but the moment she does she regrets it, but it's too late! And Ben's reaction to it it's up to you, but always rooting for a happy ending cuz real life is already sad enough💛”

Thank you so much for your request, anon! I hope you like your fic (and I agree, I am always rooting for a happy ending too!)

Hope everybody enjoys this fic! Tell me what you think about it!

****

Pairing: Ben Barnes x reader

Warnings: a little bit of angst, because pining idiots. Fluff. A lot of fluff at the end…

Summary: You’ve been in love with Ben for a long time, but have never gathered your courage to confess your feelings for him. Everything changes though when you feel that you could lose him and your friend gives you a crazy idea…

Word Count: 3933

Ben Barnes’s Masterlist – Main Masterlist

To understand the unbearably difficult situation you’ve found yourself into, one needs to go back in time a little bit.

To understand why you’re now panicking, and crying, alone, in your bed, one needs to go back to the previous weekend, four days ago.

It was a party, at your friend’s house. Or well, not exactly a party, more like a dinner with a few friends that turned into an evening spent together. Music, food and a little bit of alcohol, but nothing crazy. It was quiet for the most part. There were eight people in her apartment, and you all had divided into smaller groups as you talked, different conversations breaking the unity of the initial gathering.

And everything was going smoothly, everything was great, actually. Because Ben was back. He wasn’t staying for long in LA, though. Just a couple of weeks, but it was still amazing to see him. To actually hug him, and smell his perfume, and get his little random hugs he gave away so easily. To actually see him laugh instead of merely hearing the sound through your phone, and see his face for real instead of the pixeled version on a screen.

He had come back only a couple of days before, you noticed the dark bags under his eyes the second he stepped inside your friend’s home. Wearing comfortable clothes, a jumper and some blue jeans. Nothing fancy, just him.

And everything was going fine, because Meghan was an amazing host, and you played games, ate a great dinner, and everything was pretty much perfect. Ben was clingy, like he always was when he came home.

And your feelings were all over the place, as they always were whenever he was around.

Because he was your best friend, and had been so for years but then again… your friendship grew into something much fonder to you, something much stronger, something… that felt a lot like love.

It started gradually, and you wouldn’t have been able to point out when exactly you started falling for him had you tried. You simply did. Day by day, in his small gestures, and his loud laughs, and his tight hugs, and his reassuring words. You couldn’t know when it begun. Perhaps it was always there…

No matter for how long, the thing is that you are in love with him. Unbearably so. And that night, at your friend’s house, everything changed.

Ben was in a relationship when your feelings hit you right in the guts, but he hadn’t been with anyone else since his break-up. And you had gotten used to seeing him single, to the point where you kept on repeating to yourself over and over again that you had time. You had time to tell him that you loved him with all your heart.

The stakes, after all, were too great. What if he didn’t feel the same? What if he didn’t even want to be friends with you anymore after that? What if you lost him altogether?

You were being a coward, and you knew it, but you couldn’t help it. You loved him to much to risk it all.

But that was before this party at Meghan’s, before he got teased by some of your friends over this neighbour of his he had taken on a date the day before.

“It’s nothing serious, nothing even happened,” Ben laughed, blushing at his friends’ teasing.

“Come on, spill the tea!”

“There’s no tea! There’s no tea to be spilled! I just… had a nice evening, and that’s about it.”

“Will you go on another date?”

“I don’t know. Honestly, I don’t know. We’ll see.”

You hid your reaction in your glass, looking away.

Because your heart was beating so much faster then, all of a sudden, fear clenching at the organ and refusing to let go again. Did it mean that you were too late? That you were running out of time?

After that, you were quiet throughout the evening, making Ben worry about you, but you lied.

“I’m fine, don’t worry. Just a bit tired. I think I’m gonna head home.”

“So soon?”

You didn’t see it. Or rather, you saw the signs, but didn’t understand them. He was used to it.

“Yeah… I’ll just say goodbye to everyone, and then go home.”

“Alright. Good night, then. Be careful on the road, okay? Let us know you’re safe.”

“Sure. I’ll text you.”

You kiss his cheek, too busy trying to hide the way your heart is skipping beats to notice anything about him…

After that night, after this silly conversation, you avoided Ben for the rest of the weekend. But you were spiralling, slowly but surely, and on Monday you called Meghan to finally talk about it all.

“Here, take another tissue,” she heaved a sigh, passing the Kleenex box over to you again and waiting for you to dry your cheeks before she would speak again. “You have to tell him, Y/N. This is ridiculous.”

“I can’t. I just can’t! What if he hates me after that? And what if he never wants to see me again? And what it…”

“What if an asteroid crashes over LA and kills us all…”

“I’m serious! What if he doesn’t feel the same?”

Meghan rolled her eyes, and heaved a frustrated sigh.

“Y/N… Ben is extremely handsome, and he’s a sweetheart, and he’s funny and goofy and smart…”

“I know that. Why do you think I fell in love with him in the first place?”

“What I mean is… what did you expect? Of course, he’s not going to remain single for all eternity if he doesn’t want to. It was pretty obvious that he would eventually start dating again. I wonder why it took him so long, actually…”

Again, she sighed.

“You have to tell him. You heard what he said about this neighbour of his, it wasn’t anything serious, and he’s not even sure whether or not he wants to see her again. So, you have a chance! Don’t waste it! Because if you keep on waiting, you’re gonna miss your chance and then…”

And then he would find someone else. She didn’t need to speak these words, you knew them already.

“Meg… I don’t think… I don’t think I can,” you whispered, your voice shaking and tears rolling down your cheeks again. “Despite the way I feel for him, and the fact that I genuinely want to be with him, I just… I don’t think I could say it all to him, like that… out loud… I can’t. I’m… I can’t.”

“Why can’t you?”

“I just… I just can’t!”

She groaned, burying her face in her hands.

“You and your bloody shyness, I swear…”

“It’s not my fault…”

She remained quiet for a few minutes. It was late already, and you kind of felt bad for wasting your friend’s evening, but then again, you were having a serious crisis…

“I know!” she exclaimed, making you jump. “If you can’t say it to his face, then let’s write him a letter. Or no! No, even better! Let’s record a video!”

“A video?”

“Yes! We record a video where you confess your feelings for him. So… he’ll know, but you won’t have to say it face to face. It will be easier for you.”

“I… I don’t know…”

“Y/N. You are miserable right now. This can’t go on, and you know it.”

Slowly, you nodded.

“Can…. Can you help me record it?” you asked her.

“Of course, I can, sweetheart. But not tonight. Let’s do that tomorrow. We’ll pick a cute outfit, get you ready, and record the whole thing together. But tonight… no. You look absolutely terrifying, I reckon that you would not look worse if you got hit by a truck or something.”

“Thank you for your help, even if you’ve just blatantly insulted me.”

“You’re welcome.”

And she was the one to come over to your flat the next day. She was the one to choose your outfit, and help you settle on your couch, who held your phone as you recorded the text you had written at one in the morning. Your hands were trembling as you held onto the paper for dear life, so tightly that you wrinkled the sheet.

You cried. You ended up crying again, and Meghan gave you a hug before leaving.

And you couldn’t wait to send it, you simply couldn’t. You knew you wouldn’t do it at all if you did. So, you opened your mailbox, you wrote a short message before adding the video and sending the email.

And that’s why you are crying now. Because the email has been sent, you’ve done that about half an hour ago. It will soon be midnight, and you know Ben will not read your message and watch your short video before tomorrow morning. Still, you’re crying again. You’re crying because you regret sending this bloody message.

He can’t be in love with you. He can’t feel the same. You know perfectly well he doesn’t, all you’re going to do is shatter your friendship with him. That’s all. And then what? You’ll keep on living your life, broken-hearted, and without your best friend.

You pick up your phone again, prepare a new email, one that begs him not to watch your video, not to open your previous message but then again… then again, can you keep on living like this? What will you do, on the long run? Waste your time dreaming of being with him like a fool? You can’t waste your life away like this…

You’re already broken-hearted, in a way. If he doesn’t feel the same, if he leaves, maybe it will be for the better.

You press delete instead of enter. The email is blank again, you close the app, you turn off your phone, you sit back, you stare up at the ceiling.

You’re crying again.

It feels like you’re already losing him. Perhaps it’s for the best…

Ben is whistling in his kitchen, waiting for his coffee to be ready. He’s wearing nothing but a pair of dark boxers and some socks, hair still messy after a peaceful night. He prepares a bowl of cereals, too lazy on this Wednesday morning to bake himself some pancakes.

He’s still waiting for his coffee when he picks up his phone, turning on the device to check if he’s missed any calls. He doesn’t find any of these, nor any texts, but the small envelop appears at the top of his screen, and he checks his emails. He frowns hard as your name appears there.

Why would you send him an email, instead of a text or a simple call?

He opens the email all the same, frowns hard at the short message.

Hi Ben,

You’re probably asleep and will only see this in the morning. I hope you don’t get mad at me for saying these things out loud. I just… I couldn’t hold it back anymore. But I wouldn’t have the strength to tell you all this face to face, so I’ve recorded this short video to let it all out. It’s your choice now, whether you want to forgive me or not.

I’m sorry.

Y/N.

Ben’s heart has quickened, and with worry painted all over his features, he sits down and opens the video attached to the email. He’s forgotten all about his coffee, ready for him by now.

The video starts. He easily recognizes your flat, you’re sitting on your sofa, and you seem so shy, so vulnerable, almost guilty…

What have you done?

Your voice is weak when it finally rings in his kitchen. It barely bumps into the walls, fades before reaching the counter. He hears you though. He listens to every word.

Ben. I know we’ve been friends for so long. I know how much you value our friendship. I know how much you care about me. And I would understand if you were mad at me after watching this, because I’m going to endanger what we have, to the point where our friendship might not recover. I understand the risks. But I can’t keep on going, not this way. I’ve never told you this, because… when we met you weren’t single. And then I was simply too much of a coward to tell you the truth. I’m too much of a coward now, still, as you can see. That’s why I’m recording this, instead of telling you face to face, because I know that the second I’ll look into your eyes I’ll be too scared to lose you to say anything at all. And this can’t go on. It’s been going on for too long, already.

And I reckon that I should be blunt about this. So, I won’t try to make it into a pretty declaration, because my feelings are a little too raw to be spoken in anything but simple, earnest words.

You look at the camera then, abandoning the piece of paper you’ve been reading. And Ben is starting to understand, but he isn’t quite sure if this is really happening…

But then you speak again, eyes glistening with tears you’re trying to hold back, voice shaking like he’s never heard before.

Still, he can read in your eyes, even through a video, even through a screen, that you mean it. Every word of it.

I’m in love with you, Ben. I’ve been for a long while. I…

Your voice breaks, you close your eyes, you try to gather your strengths again.

Another deep breath, before looking up.

I don’t see just a friend in you. I… I did at first, but then it changed over the course of the past few years and… and now here we are. With me being… ridiculously in love with my best friend.

You shake your head, brush away a tear.

I’m not expecting you to feel the same. But I can’t keep on lying to you. And… it might sound stupid, but hearing you talking about going on a date with someone it… it hurt a lot. I had to tell you, I reckon my confession is long overdue.

I would understand if you didn’t want to talk to me again. I just… I just hope you know that I’m not doing this to hurt you. I just need to know if this could happen or not. Because then, I reckon I’ll need to finally move on.

I’m sorry about all this. I’m so sorry, Ben.

Your video cuts as you shake your head, and start crying harder. He sees you standing from the sofa, and then nothing.

Then, he’s left with nothing but a blank screen, dark with a play button at its centre, in case he wants to start it all over again. He seems as frozen as the image he’s staring at.

He’s struggling for breath, can’t fully comprehend what just happened.

At long last, he finally presses the play button, watches the video again, but understands the same thing a second time, and a third, and a fourth time too.

You love him…

He blinks a few times, mouth agape, looking up and searching through his kitchen, as if he’ll suddenly find an answer on the door of his fridge or the handle of a drawer. There’s nothing written there though.

The coffee has grown cold when he finally sends you a text. A simple one. He’s checked the time, you’re already at work, this will have to wait for tonight.

How will he wait until tonight?

We need to talk. Can I come over tonight?

He’s been gazing at nothing again for a few minutes when his phone vibrates in his palm.

Is it about the video?

What else could it be about?

Yes.

He waits for a strong twenty minutes but you’re not responding. When he comes back from a shower, his phone is still silent. He tries to eat something for lunch, but his stomach is in a knot, and his throat is too tight, he barely manages to drink some water.

Hours pass, and there’s nothing on his phone. He waits till six o’clock, until he’s sure you’re home again, and he grabs his car keys, and hurries through the door.

You’re pacing. You haven’t stopped pacing ever since you’ve been home.

You haven’t responded to Ben’s message, but you reckon he’ll come anyway. You’re waiting for him, although, you wish he won’t come. You wish he’ll forget about all of this.

How could he though?

You expect him, still, you jump as someone knocks at your door. It’s quick, loud, desperate.

You stay frozen in the corridor, staring at the door, and the knocking starts again, more insistent this time around.

You hear Ben’s voice coming from the other side. It’s muffled by the wood, but you have no doubt that it’s him.

“Y/N? Are you here? Open up, please, it’s me. It’s Ben. Y/N?”

You can hear your phone ringing in the other room. You don’t have to look to know that he’s calling you.

You can’t run away. You can’t stay hidden either. Not forever. You’re the one who started it all with this stupid video anyway.

You take a deep breath, and before you can think this through, you stride to the door and open it.

You fall into Ben’s eyes as soon as he looks up, as he slowly lowers his phone from his ear.

You struggle to swallow.

“Come in,” you invite him, voice weak but it’s the best you can do.

You see him struggling to end his call, and he walks inside, following you to your living room. You remain standing though, and so does he. He glances over at your sofa, the one on which you were sitting on the video…

When he looks up at you again, he’s blushing fiercely. You’re not sure why, though. You’re the one who embarrassed yourself listening to Meghan’s stupid advices…

“We need to talk.”

He sounds out of breath, he seems nervous, as much as you are now.

“I know,” is all you can muster the strength to let out.

“I watched your video.”

“I know.”

“I…”

But his voice breaks, and all of a sudden, he’s at a loss for words. He’s spent his entire day thinking about this, and now… now he can’t bring himself to think about a single thing to say.

You see him blinking tears away, and you don’t understand. You never do. There have been signs for months, for years even, but you’ve never noticed. And it drives him crazy.

“I’m sorry,” you blurt out, shying away, averting your eyes, trying to hide even if you can’t.

“Why?”

“Because… I shouldn’t have done that…”

“You didn’t mean it?”

You look up at him, even if it’s hard. But he looks sad now, almost scared. Actually, he’s terrified.

“I did mean it. I just… I don’t want to lose you.”

He lets out a breathy chuckle, and you frown at the sound. He runs a hand across his face, all the way up to his hair, and he closes his eyes for a second, trying to slow his heart down.

“I’m sorry,” he finally breaks the heavy silence that had settled in the room. “I’m sorry, because… I shouldn’t have waited so long either. I’m sorry, because I shouldn’t have gone on that date with my neighbour but I… I tried to show you, over the years and I thought… I thought it was obvious, everybody else noticed. And so, I thought that if you didn’t tell me anything, it meant that you weren’t interested. We were friends. I thought… I thought you didn’t want to be more than that.”

You blinked a few times.

“I don’t understand,” you admit, making Ben let out this same breathy chuckle.

And he hesitates one last time. Because he’s a cautious man. A logical one. And especially when it comes to love, or when it comes to you, he doesn’t want to take too many risks.

But you’ve confessed. So… how risky can it be to just admit that he feels the same? That he’s felt the same for years…

But when he opens his mouth to speak, no sound wants to come out. He can’t let out as much as a whisper, not even a sigh.

He needs to show you though. He’s tired. And he loves you.

Fuck all this.

If he could, he would have said these words out loud, but he hasn’t found his voice back. Instead, he takes a step closer, reaches up to hold your face in his hands.

He doesn’t kiss you though. Not yet. You finally realise what he’s about to do, what he wants to do. But he gives you a chance to step back, to push him away.

Instead, you’re the one going on your tiptoes to kiss his lips.

And you’ve dreamt about this. About his palms on your cheeks, and his thumbs grazing your cheekbones, and the tip of his fingers in your hair. You’ve dreamt of how soft his lips would feel against yours, of the taste of his tongue, of the tickle of his beard on your chin. You’ve dreamt about all this, a thousand times over. Still, it’s nothing compared to the real thing…

Your kiss grows more desperate, more loving too. Until you’re melting in his embrace, your body fitting perfectly against his, and his hold on your face tightens a little to keep you close, as if he’s scared you’ll end the kiss too soon. You have no intention of ever stopping this, though…

When you finally pull away, you remain pressed to him, your fingers lost in his hair, and you rest your forehead against his, letting your two breaths mingle in the small space left between your faces.

Ben moves ever so slightly, bumping his nose into yours.

“I love you too.”

His voice is but a whisper, and there are a thousand things he needs to confess, but it can wait. For now, this is the most important thing he needs to say.

You’ve waited for this for so long…

“I want this to be serious,” you whisper, and you feel him nodding.

“Me too. But it’s… it’s going to be a mess.”

“I know.”

“We… we’ll make it work, though.”

“Do you think so?”

“We don’t have a choice.”

He grins. At long last, you do the same.

“I’m in love with you. Have been for a long time. Should have said it before but… You’re kind of blind.”

“Oh…”

He laughs.

“That’s okay. I… thank you. For finally saying it all. I was… I was losing hope, to be honest. Hence the date.”

“Oh…”

“Oh indeed.”

You bury your face in the crook of his neck, breathe in deeply his scent of oud and vanilla. He moves his hand to the back of your head to hold you closer, drops a peck to your hair, right above your ear.

“I couldn’t say it… like this. It was too scary. Meghan thought it would be easier through a screen.”

“For once, I’m glad she was eager to help with things that have nothing to do with her.”

You both laugh at that, even if it’s still a little shy, a little new, a little raw.

Still, it feels nice. Most of all, it feels right.

“Let’s go on a date. This Friday,” you offer.

“I’d love that. I’d love to have about a million more dates after that one…”

*************************

Taglist : @reg-arcturus-black @sergeantbuckybarnes @wolfmoonmusic

[fluentmoviequoter]

The Freak and The Princess (III)

Summary: Eddie lets you walk by during his rant in the cafeteria, stumped by your quietness and manners toward the town freak. He then decides to be the perfect gentlemen. [Part 3/5] 1.7k Words

Warnings: implications of parental neglect and talks of emancipation as a minor (this could also be changed to parents that work a lot and aren't around; if anyone wants another version, let me know!), a fight?, Steve Harrington is a warning just because of who he is. I think that's all!

A/N: Here's part 3! I edited this and proofread it, but please point out any errors or things that you like! And please send requests; all the characters I write for are under my tag #characters! Hope you enjoy! :) Also, the movie I'm talking about at the end came out in 1983 and is actually based on my favorite book, so if you know what it is, we are friends now.

Part I. Part II.

The Freak and The Princess

Part Three: Best Served Cold (Revenge and Ice Cream)

I walked into school Monday with a new-found vigor for being silent. I didn’t want to talk to anyone, I didn’t want anyone to talk to me, and I wanted to be invisible. The night before, I had called Eddie and said I didn’t need a ride to school, avoiding subsequent questions when he asked why. I managed to go to my first four classes without seeing him. Walking toward the cafeteria after fourth period, I had to decide: go in and risk seeing Eddie and/or Jason or don’t go in and risk not seeing Jason and/or Eddie. I was at an impasse. Biting my lip and praying for courage, I pushed the door open, my eyes immediately finding the Hellfire table. Everyone seemed to be talking to Dustin and Lucas while Eddie wrote in his notebook.

“Oh, what the heck?” I thought and made my way toward the table. As I approached it, I saw Jason Carver walking toward them from the other direction.

“Oh no, what happened to you little freaks? Human sacrifice gone wrong?” he asked as he leaned over the empty seat by Eddie.

“Beat it, Carver,” Eddie said, sliding his notebook into his bag.

Jason looked back and forth between Eddie, Dustin, and Lucas. Realization struck, and he smiled wickedly.

“You didn’t tell him.” Jason smiled at Dustin and Lucas, who were suddenly very interested in the floor.

“No, but they told me,” I said, grabbing the back of Jason’s shirt and slamming him against the brick wall behind Eddie. I pushed my forearm against his throat – just hard enough to make it impossible to take a full breath - and leaned in. “Do you remember what I said I would do if you looked at or talked to them again?” He nodded. “And what did you do?” I growled, pushing against his throat. “What? Someone sell your tongue to the devil?” I asked, tilting my head as I released the pressure off his neck. “So? What did you do?”

“I talked to them,” he said, shrinking into the wall.

“That’s not true.”

“I hit them. Me and my buddies beat them up in the parking lot,” he said quickly.

“I’m going to be nice, and let me make this clear, all of this was very nice, and give you one more warning. Breathe in their direction again and you will find out just how mean I can be. Understand?”

He nodded and flinched when I slapped the brick beside him before raising my voice. “Understand?”

“Yes,” he said, tripping over his feet as he ran away.

The cafeteria was silent until Dustin started slow clapping. I walked out the same way I came in without looking at the Hellfire table. I scared Jason, that was the point, but if there was even a chance that I had scared Eddie, I would hate myself forever.

I walked straight through the school, across the field, and into the woods. I sat on one of the long-forgotten picnic benches and lay my head on my forearms. I laid there for a few minutes, enjoying the solitude. Someone was walking toward the table, and I groaned quietly, hoping they would see this table was taken and keep moving. The footsteps stopped by the table, and I debated lifting my head to see who it was. The bench shifted as they sat down on the other side, fingertips brushing my hair off my folded arms.

“How ya feelin’, princess?”

I jerked my head up, surprised to hear his voice. “What are you doing here?” I whispered.

He smiled before answering. “I wanted to check on you. Besides, these tables were my turf long before you arrived.”

“Are Dustin and Lucas ok?” I asked, still whispering.

“Ok? They’re ecstatic! Pretty sure they’re reenacting the scene and arguing over who gets to be you.” He laughed as he finished, and it was one of the most beautiful things I'd ever heard.

I smiled at the thought before looking down at my lap and playing with my fingers.

“When did they tell you?” he asked, more serious now.

“Thursday night in the parking lot. Steve went to see if we could get in the school, and they made me promise not to tell him.”

Eddie nodded, then stood up and stepped away. He’s probably mad I didn’t tell him and tried to handle it alone. The bench moved again, so I looked back up and saw Eddie sitting beside me, one of his hands sliding between mine, ceasing their fidgety actions.

“Let’s ditch. Go get ice cream or something.” He smiled, and I couldn’t say no.

I nodded, holding his hand as we walked back toward the school, turning into the parking lot and climbing into his van. He put a cassette in and twisted a dial, Metallica's newest album filling the van. I was mouthing the lyrics and looking out the window.

“You listen to Metallica?!” he asked, voice raised to speak over the music.

I nodded, smiling. Eddie smirked, turning it up as he pulled onto the main road. He parked in the small lot outside the homemade ice cream place, running around the front of the van to open my door. As usual, Eddie extended his hand and helped me out before walking beside me and opening the door. He refused to let me pay, turning away from me when I pouted. We sat at the back, eating our ice cream while I listened to Eddie’s one-sided conversation.

“So, Dustin tells me you agreed to come to Hellfire this week?” Eddie asked.

“I don’t know how to play, so I’ll just watch or something,” I responded quietly.

“Oh, we can certainly remedy that, Princess. I mean, you are talking to the dungeon master.”

He started explaining the basics of the game while I followed along, envisioning what he was saying in my head. He grabbed my hand, leading me back to the van and helping me in. After he climbed in and started the van, he turned to face me. “I say we go bother Harrington.”

I agreed, and Eddie backed out of the parking lot, pulling into Family Video a few minutes later. We walked in and started looking at movies since Steve wasn’t at the desk.

After a moment, we heard the back door open and Steve called, “Welcome to Family Video. Let me know if you need any help.”

“Got any good princess movies?” Eddie asked, making his voice deeper.

“Princess movies. Those would be in our children’s section on aisle-” He stopped talking as he rounded the corner and saw us trying not to laugh. “I should have known. Aren’t you two supposed to be at school?”

“We ditched for ice cream,” Eddie responded, placing an arm around my shoulders.

“You ditched?” Steve asked, obviously surprised as he looked at me.

I shrugged, failing to find the words to explain.

“What happened?” Steve asked, narrowing his eyes at us.

“She had a… conversation with Carver.”

“A conversation?”

“Of sorts, yeah.”

Steve looked at me with a hand on his hip, what I called his Steve Harrington Mom™ pose.

“Don’t do that look, man, she was standing up for Dustin and Lucas,” Eddie sighed. I dropped my jaw at his betrayal. “What?! He did the look, it makes people talk,” he defended quietly.

“It was him wasn’t it? I should’ve known. I’m going to kill that-”

Eddie cut him off. “Dude, it’s been handled. Trust me. And word to the wise? Stay on this one’s good side.”

I chuckled lightly, picking up my favorite movie and walking to the counter with Steve and Eddie as they bickered. Steve rented the tape under my name, and Eddie drove us to my house to watch it.

“This isn’t a chick flick is it?” Eddie asked as he collapsed on my couch with a bowl of popcorn.

“Nope,” I said, stealing a handful of the popcorn.

“Hey, make your own!”

“Technically it is mine, you just pulled it out of my pantry.”

“I have a question. It’s probably going to sound super rude, and I really don’t mean it to be.”

I nodded, urging him to continue.

“Is it voluntary? When you suddenly stop talking? Or is it a conscious decision? Because at first I thought you were really shy and would open up when I got to know you, but there are still days where you only say two words to me.”

“It’s not voluntary. Sometimes it just feels easier not to talk. I can’t explain why it happens but know that it’s never because I don’t want to talk to you, because I’ve wanted to talk to you since eighth grade, just could never get words out.”

“You’ve wanted to talk to me since eighth grade?”

“Yeah, that’s when I moved here and you were one of the first people I noticed, and the only one who made me want to talk. My parents just gave up on me, stopped trying to talk to me and didn’t listen even when I did. You and Steve are the only people who seem to make it worth talking.”

“I noticed you when you moved here, but thought a sweet, shy thing, like you would see me like everyone else here. There were kids in your grade who would talk about the ‘mute girl’, and I wanted to meet you, but didn’t know how.”

“Probably best we waited for it to happen on its own, there is no way I would’ve been able to talk to you back then.”

“Where are your parents now?”

“I got emancipated the summer between seventh and eighth grade. Then I found out that some second-cousin or someone left me this house and made the decision to move by myself.”

“You’ve been on your own since eight grade in a town where you knew no one and struggled to talk?”

“Pretty much.”

“Well now we have to add brave.”

“To what?”

“Your title. Beautiful, pretty, brave, kick-butt princess,” he smiled, pulling me into his side.

“This movie is based off my favorite book, and I love it, so if you don’t, keep it to yourself,” I said, attempting to shift his attention away from me.

“Yes, Princess,” he said with a goofy smile. I lay back against him and pressed play, perfectly content with my prince.

Taglist: @loonalockley @paleidiot @kimmi-kat

[usetheeauthor]

Love, Papa

Virgin!Henry Creel/One/Peter Ballard x SexWorker!Reader

MDNI +18 (eventual smut)

Summary: You are snatched away from your mundane life and brought to a secluded location in the woods where you are forced to play house with a man who calls himself “Papa” and his two “children”One and Eleven. Now you’ll do everything you can to escape this nightmare…and fast. (Also please bare with me as I am finishing up a couple series before this one)

A/N: This one’s kinda dark but interesting I think. It’ll also be graphic and smutty but also thriller/horror. I haven’t written for Peter in so long because Eddie’s taken up my mind but we gotta show some love to Henry. He may be a psycho but damn is he hot. I believe this will be a 5 part series. It’s set in modern times during the pandemic. The fic will be based on Melanie Martinez songs and themes because why not?! Please enjoy! Ps. Peter is somewhere in his late 20s and Reader early 20s.

Word Count: 2.8k+

Warnings: kidnapping, use of chloroform, graphic language, mentions of sex work and dark sides of it, imprisonment, choking, Brenner being a psycho

Chapter One: One Happy Family

The cold air of the night sends shivers down your spine, prompting you to wrap your coat around you tighter. Tonight was a slow day. Not much creeps out in the streets in search of a risqué night session.

The pandemic’s to blame. The virus was currently running rampant and people were frightened. You should’ve been, too. Instead, the need for money to survive fueled your intentions.

You were all you had. Your parents had long forgotten you after you’d told them you were going to school to become an esthetician and not a doctor like they were.

Big mistake. Not because you regret following your dreams but rather it was how your dreams led you to a man who would soon ruin your life.

He was your teacher. You didn’t take him seriously considering he was a beauty school teacher but that’s exactly the place for a womanizer to prey on a sea of women. The school had a strict no student-teacher policy so once your relationship was exposed. The decision ended with them immediately discarding your future there.

You believe your love would save you but he protected his job. With no other beauty schools in Hawkins, traveling being too expensive, and you being cut off from your parents; you had no choice but to make quick money.

You were introduced to prostitution working as a bartender one night by a woman who ran a business of sex workers. Figuring since it was a woman, you trusted her. Of course, now you realize basing your decisions in the hands of a person specifically because of their gender was also a big mistake.

Life wasn’t very glamorous like how it was with some of the girls you saw online, streaming their work from the comforts of their homes or studios. On the streets, you’d live in fear nearly everyday at the cost of passing money. Sure you get expensive bags and designer clothes but at what cost.

Leaning against the graffiti’d wall behind you, you pull out your phone to make a phone call. Your mother’s contact is the first thing you see. Your thumb hesitantly hangs over the call button. Just as you finally worked the courage to press the button, a car pulls up on the curb.

You hear a muffled “hello” through the speaker and quickly hang up, providing your attention to the car in front of you.

The man lowers his window. “Hello, young lady. What are you doing out here all alone?”

You put on a seductive smile as you sauntered over to him. “I was looking for a good time. Would that happen to be why you’re here, too?” You lean into his window, resting your elbow on the passenger door.

“Actually, I was looking for someone that would be the perfect fit for my family and—congratulations— you are that. And it doesn’t appear to me that anyone’ll be looking for you considering your profession.” He smiles.

“What?” You say, heart pounding. A cough in the backseat has your eyes following in its direction. There’s a young girl with her head shaven, looking back at you with pitiful eyes.

You attempt to run when your back collides with something—someone—behind you. Before you could turn to look, a rag is thrown over your mouth and nose, muffling your screams.

You fight and scratch all you could but you were getting weaker. Chloroform. You get one look at the sky above you and then all you could see is black.

—————

You hear chimes. The beautiful sound of chimes and it brings you back to a distant memory of your childhood. Suddenly, your in your mother’s arms, sitting on the porch as she rocks you along in her favorite chair. She’s telling you stories of great women in history: Joan of Arc, Harriet Tubman, Sojourner Truth. The autumn breeze gently kisses your skin, pushing the chimes into making its music. You were so happy.

The chimes in the distance grew louder and louder until it was too hard to ignore and you’re jolted awake. Your eyes open to an unfamiliar setting. You were in a room of a log cabin home.

You attempted to sit up to check your surroundings when you noticed that your hands and feet were tied to the bed posts. You immediately began to thrash around and whine when your memories of what happened prior washed over you.

The door to the room opens, revealing a tall gray-haired man. Your captor. He looks down at you almost as if he’s sorry for you, sitting at the corner of the bed.

“Who the fuck are you?!” You scream. “Why am I here?”

“You can call me ‘Papa’. I’m your family now. And you’re here because…this is your home.”

You shook your head. “Are you fucking crazy? Let me go!”

“I can’t do that, my belle,” He says, leaning in to caress your face which causes you to quickly pull away. “Papa never abandons his loved ones. You’ll be happy here. You wouldn’t wish for a place anywhere from here once you get used to it. Especially once you meet your siblings. But before we do that…I have some rules. Just a few rules that everyone must follow or else…Papa will be very upset.”

“I don’t care for your rules,” You say through gritted teeth. “Let. Me. FUCKING. GO!”

“Rule 1…Absolutely no profanity of any sort under this roof. You’re new to our family. So I will let you off on a warning just this time. But now you know the rule so there are no excuses,” He smiles. “Rule 2: You must never step into Papa’s study unless you have permission from me and me only. Rule 3: Everyone must treat one another with respect. We are a loving family and we do not tolerate any fighting. Rule 4: Papa knows what’s best. Do as Papa says. Rule 5: No one goes outside unless Papa permits so. And finally Rule 6: No technology of any sort. Follow these simple rules and we’ll have a splendid time together. But break them…and you’ll be punished accordingly. Okay, belle?”

“My name isn’t belle. My name is Y/n and I want to go home!” You sob.

“You. ARE. Home.”

You thrash around again, cursing him and spitting. He lunges for your throat and squeezes. He was surprisingly strong for his tall, lanky frame. You can feel him crushing your windpipe enough for your to begin gasping out loud, wanting to claw at his hands but your wrists were bound.

“I told you the rules, belle,” He whispers darkly. “I can make this a very ugly experience for you. Trust me. I am going to let you go. But you must promise that you will be on your best behavior here on out. Do you understand?”

You nod frantically, eyes pleading. He squeezes even tighter one last time before he finally releases, causing you to rip away from him. You were coughing uncontrollably, tears pouring from your eyes.

“That’s a good girl. Now are you ready to meet your new siblings? I have a girl. She’s only 12 but she is very bright. She’s been needing a mother figure. And I have a boy, not much older than you. He’s never been around women his age. He might be a little shy at first,” He chuckles before clapping with excitement. “Oh, they’re so excited to meet you. They even practiced something to perform for you. I’ll call them in. Stay put.” He winks before exiting the room.

You resume your struggling, crying out. Was this supposed to be your life now? No. You needed to survive. Get out of this freak show. But how exactly were you supposed to that?

Papa enters the room with the little girl that was sat in the backseat. She, now, hid behind the man. There was also a tall young man with pale skin, neatly groomed blonde hair and white clothing. He bore an innocent smile that somehow felt sinister in its intentions. Neither of them looked alike. You assumed he must’ve kidnapped them, too.

“Belle, I’d like for you to meet my son, One.” Papa introduces.

One bows in his greeting to you. “Pleasure meeting you.”

He also speaks in that same polite and formal manner. Like he was a lot older than his age.

“And this little shy princess here is my daughter, Eleven.” Papa says, tugging her sleeve to bring her around in front of him. He rests his hands on her shoulders, lowering to whisper something to her.

“H-hi.” Eleven stutters.

“Don’t you two have something to show our new family member?” Papa asks, smiling brightly.

One and Eleven exchange looks before nodding. One whispers something to Eleven. Grabbing the glass of water from the bedside table, One holds it out on one palm as Eleven concentrates on it.

“As if this situation couldn’t get any weirder.” You thought to yourself.

You’ve spoken too soon. The glass begins to lift off his hand, floating in midair. It appears to be following the little girl’s movements as she turns over to you. The glass begins to float in your direction. It hovers over you, you staring at it in both awe and terror. It lowers and tips just near your mouth.

“How kind! Eleven is offering you some water,” Papa says. You just stare at the glass causing Papa to clear his throat impatiently. “It would be rude not to drink, belle.”

You reluctantly lift your head, eyes searching the room before your lips touch the glass and slurp a sip of the water. You didn’t realize how thirsty you were until the first drop hit your tongue. You eagerly drank until the glass suddenly fell from the air, spilling all over your abdomen and lap.

“Oh no! I’m sorry.” The girl says, lowering her head in shame.

“That’s quite alright, dear. You did amazing! Belle was sooo impressed. She isn’t angry at all. We’ll just get her cleaned right up.” Papa says, petting the girl’s head.

The girl looks up at the man and you notice her nose bleeding. Her eyes begin to blink rapidly and her legs give out. The older man catches her in time.

“You’ve used a lot of your energy for that. It shows how much you care for your new sister. Let’s clean you up for dinner. One…will you please help out with Belle? Get her into some of your clean clothes until I purchase some new clothing for her tomorrow.”

“Yes, Papa.” One nods.

The older man leaves and One stalks his way over to you with his hands out causing you to shift to the side to avoid any touching.

“Stay away from me.” You hiss.

He sighs. “Would you rather stay in those wet clothes? I’m sure it’s very cold against your skin.”

“Don’t touch me.”

“I’m only trying to help,” He groans, looking back to make sure no one hears. “You want to survive here, then you must comply. No back talk. No fighting. Simply follow the rules. Then, you won’t be tied up.”

You stare into his eyes not being able to read anything in them. What is his deal?

“Okay.” You give in.

“I’m going to untie one limb at a time to remove your clothing. Remember…no fighting.”

You nod. “Just don’t be pervy about it.”

He chuckles. “I can assure you. I am not that kind of guy.”

He unties your first arm, trying to pull your tank top over your head. It was then you remembered that you hadn’t worn a bra underneath.

“Wait!” You panic.

“What’s wrong?”

“I-I’m not wearing a bra.” You say, blushing.

“So?”

“So…my breasts will be on full display.”

“Were you not a sex worker? This should be nothing to you?”

You seethe. “First off, I am entitled to who is allowed to see my body. Secondly, I usually receive payment before showing them.”

“I promise you I will only do what was ordered of me and nothing more. You have my word. I should apologize for these circumstances, however. It does get better. Now may I resume?”

“Urgh, fine. Just make it quick.”

He removes one side of your shirt, sliding it down your other arm. Your freed nipples harden at the immediate contact with the air. You hoped he hadn’t noticed. Judging by his facial expressions, he seemed unbothered, simply going about the task as if it were a normal thing.

One makes his way to untie the other hand and remove your tank top completely off you. He goes into the drawer beside the bed for something for you to wear. You take this opportunity to sit up and quickly untie your legs. He spots this in the corner of his eyes, climbing on top of you and pinning your hands above your head.

“What did I say about fighting?” He threatens.

“Worth a shot.” You say.

It was a compromising position. Him, on top of your half naked body with your hands above your head. You were so familiar with this position through your work. Male clients loving to do it as a sign of dominance. It usually has an unsatisfying ending.

One’s warm breath ghosts the skin on your neck and it isn’t any help, only making you think more of the sinful deed. You cringe, shaking your thoughts.

“One! Dinner’s nearly finished. Please have Belle ready to join us.” Papa calls out.

“I’ll let go. Just please don’t do anything you’ll regret.”

“Okay, but let me undress on my own.”

“No. Once the shirt’s on, I’ll be tying your hands again.”

“What about dinner? Will I be tied up then, too?”

“Yes, only until Papa could trust you.”

You groan. “Let me, at least, undress on my own. Then, you could tie me up all ya want.”

Also, something I’ve said in compromising situations.

“Alright, don’t make me regret this or we’ll both be in trouble.” One says as he unties your feet.

You stand up, stretching. It felt like you’d been in that position forever. You weren’t sure how much time passed since you were taken but the concept of time seems to not be a thing around here.

They don’t even have technology. No cellphones, laptops, or tablets. This is hell.

You lower your drenched skirt along with the pantyhose. You were now only in a thong, you glance over your shoulder to see if One was watching. He’s averted his gaze. You must’ve imagined it but…there seemed to be a sizeable bulge growing between his legs. He notices you looking at him and quickly places a hand over it as a cover.

You smirk. ‘Not that kind of guy’. Yeah, right.

“Well, aren’t you going to hand me some clothes?”

“Y-yes,” He holds out an oversized white T-shirt. “I’m not sure I’ll have bottoms that will fit your…erm…bottom.”

Was that his way of letting me know that my ass is fat?

You bite your bottom lip to stifle a giggle.

“The shirt will fit you almost like a dress since you’re shorter than I.” One explains.

“I guess this will do,” You roll your eyes before pulling the shirt over your head and smoothing it on. “Let’s hope your Papa isn’t as much of a perv as you.”

“I-I am not.” He blushes.

—————

Dinner was as insufferable as it was awkward. The man who calls himself “Papa” would not stop talking about his discoveries at his job. Aside from your boredom, the others seemed to be enamored by the tales.

All you could think of was trying to loosen the knots on the rope. You were tied tightly to the dining room chair, having to be force fed by One. Every now and then, he’d give you the eye to remind you not to fight back. So, half-heartedly, you obliged taking in the mouthfuls of a casserole concoction you weren’t familiar with what exactly were the ingredients.

“Belle, are you enjoying your meal?” Papa smiles, taking another bite.

You look at One who gives you a subtle nod. “It’s good.” You simply say.

“I’m so glad! After dinner, we’re going to have family game night. It’ll be fun now that we can go in teams. It’ll be me and the little princess and you and One.”

“What game, Papa?” Eleven asks, excitedly.

“Scrabble! We could go on and practice some new vocabulary that you’ve learned, El.”

“Do we get a reward when we win?” One asks.

“You and your rewards,” Papa laughs. “Okay, I’ll entertain a wager. What would you like as your reward should you win?”

“To go outside.” He gives a small smile.

“Hmm, alright you can. But if I win…next movie night will be my pick. Deal?” Papa says, holding out his hand for One to shake.

“Deal.” They shake hands, firmly.

You are dumbfounded. That easily he’ll let you two go outside if you win. You’ll win with flying colors. Having doctors as parents, they knew a plethora of words and were certain to teach you them. Once you win, you can run outside and get far away from this godforsaken place.

Your smile’s wide.

“Oh, look, children. Belle looks so happy.”

Indeed, I am.

[gladoswantscake]

Yakuza - Kiryu Kazuma Dating HC's

Warnings: None

Available on AO3

💗 You were being taunted and harassed by a group of men on your way home from the store. It wasn't long until Kiryu stepped in to dismantle the group. (literally)

💗 The one badly beaten remaining man crawled to you, pleading for help, and profusely apologizing only to be dragged away by his ankles. The man lets out a high pitch scream as he gets swung and thrown into a vending machine.

💗 They took off. Cursing amongst themselves became faint the further they made distance between you and the man who saved you: Kiryu. He helps pick up your dropped food items and returned them to you. The paper bag filled with fresh food products was destroyed all thanks to the delinquents. He felt terrible, so he offered to buy you dinner.

💗 Later that night, you hand him your phone number and invite him for some lunch as a way to thank him. Even though Kiryu assured you that you did not need to pay him back, you still insisted.

💗 A warm smile from you was enough to get Kiryu flustered. He wasn't sure if the strange warm fuzzy feeling he was experiencing was normal. A day later he musters up enough courage to send you a text. Within several exchanging text messages, the two of you establish a date.

💗Kiryu manage to slowly break out of his shell to become more comfortable being around you. And over the course of time, the two of you establish an official relationship.

💗 Kiryu really wanted to spice things up with the next date. He figured a nice dinner at a fancy restaurant and a gift would be perfect.

💗He scouts out a few stores in town to find the perfect gift. Nothing too expensive or too cheap.

💗 In this mind, he was freaking out. He honestly had no idea what gift he could get you. Were you more of a jewelry person? Necklace or bracelet? Or maybe flowers? Would if they don't last long? What about sweets?

💗 His patience was wearing thin and his anxiety was creeping up on him. He didn't have much time left before he picks you up. Then suddenly an arm was thrown around Kiryu's shoulder.

💗 "What is my 'lit-tle' Kiryu-chan up to?" A huge grin plastered on Majima's face. "It's unusual to see you wanderin' around the shopping mall." Kiryu hesitates. "I'm just looking around is all." "Now I know that ain't the truth." Majima wags his finger in his face. "You've been walking around here for a while now. What are you really up to?" "I-I um... I was-" "You've got a special person in mind, don'tcha?" Majima interrupts him. Kiryu responds with a nod. His face was starting to feel hot. Majima wipes away a fake tear from his eye. "I can't believe my Kiryu-chan has already grown up! He rejoices. "I've raised ya well!" "Majima-san can I ask you a question?" "Of course! You can ask me anythin'." "Well, I'm taking them out for dinner, and I really want to give them a good impression, but I don't what gift to get for them. "Ya know I have an idea or two up my sleeve!" He playfully elbows Kiryu. "You can fight me so that way you can impress em'." He suggests. Kiryu shakes his head. "I don't think I would want to scare them." "Oh nonsense! They'd be fallin' harder for ya if they saw someone protecting them."

💗 Majima would honestly be the last person to seek advice from considering how creative and wacky his ideas have been in the past. But within certain times where Kiryu needs help and doesn't have anyone around, he may cautiously ask Majima under condition.

💗 Majima will most definitely tease Kiryu about being head over heels for you. He only does it to poke fun at him for being so sheepish around you.

💗 If you just so happen to like pocket circuit, he's going to be giddy. If you're new to it, he'll help you out with upgrades and give you tips on how to win races. If it's the two of you racing, he'll purposefully lose just to see you smile.

💗 He really likes bringing home knick-knacks that he found in lockers. You had no idea how much he can carry in his pockets.

💗 Since he has relations within the Tojo clan and has enemies, he makes it his priority to keep you far from the Yakuza. He's lost people he deeply cared for in the past and doesn't want to make the same mistake again.

[thunderclaw100]

(Tallest Lich belongs to https://messinwitheddie.tumblr.com/)

Lavender paces in front of the tallest’s chamber. Carrying her tablet in hand while she listen to her leader’s angry outburst. This isn’t her place to get involved, but with no one else available, Lavender was called to see what her tallest needs. She can hear him calling out to his staffs but none of them came to him. After gathering up the courage she needs. Lavender opens the door and enters.

Inside, tallest Lich lays on his spiky, somewhat comfy lounge couch. He heard the door open and got up. “FINALLY! I’ve been calling for ages. Where the heck have you been- wait a second….”

The tallest squinted his eyes to get a better look at her. “You’re not one of my staffs!” He said.

Lavender quickly looked down at her tablet’s blank screen. To avoid staring at the tallest. Lich is not even fully dressed. He’s wearing a long red robe but only the top doesn’t have the chest cover. Her antenna’s twitched at the sound of him moving towards her.

“Speak drone. Why are you here?”

“Greetings, my tallest! My name’s Lavender. I’m an Information Technology Specialist. As well as a pilot in the elite-B unit.” Lavender is then silenced by Lich raising his hand. Not in the mood for introductions.

“I did not ask you that. I want to know why you are here? I did not call for you. Hail wardrobe for me!”

He demanded that with a slight growl in his voice. Lavender turned on her tablet and checked for the list of Lich’s crew members. As she expected, none of those drones are available. Some even have their face images crossed out. Meaning they either quit or tallest Lich fired them on the spot. Even the food service drones are avoiding him. Lavender saw the last guy get kicked out and sentenced to janitorial duty as a way of punishment to those who displeased the tallest. It’s gotten out of hand now.

“I’m sorry, my tallest but it seems no one is in right now. They have all called out.” She said softly.

“What do you mean, they’ve called out?!” He shouted. Reaching down and snatching away her tablet to get a good look at the list. Lich grumbles and scroll down the screen. Once he got his fill, he tossed the tablet over his shoulder. Luckily Lavender caught it before the device could hit the floor.

“They are a useless bunch. And I’ve only fired half of these drones! The others didn’t need to quit.”

Lavender was tempted to ask why the tallest won’t just put on the rest of his robes by himself. It came to her understanding that since they’ve been measured. The tallest have to deal with discomfort in their bodies and suffering of back pains sometimes. This is why wardrobe staffs are there to get their tallest ready with new clothes, depending on preference and the occasion for them. Lavender looks uncomfortable just standing there with him.

“Wardrobe should be here. I need my cover top and my gauntlets! What’s a tallest got to do to have loyal subjects around here!” Lich throws the nearest table. Which was surprisingly light weight for him. He cussed and kicked over a bag of large chips.

“This must be the tantrums my co-workers are talking about. Why did they send ME over here….”

“Forget them. They are ALL replaceable. I will hire more staffs soon.” Lich turned back around to face the drone. Lavender frown at his words.

“Why bother if they’re just gonna quit on you?”

“What was that?!” Lich marched up to her. Sizing her up with his tall height. Lavender stayed still but did. It repeat herself. Instead she continued onward.

“Isn’t it obvious? You’re a tyrant, Lich. Everyone’s afraid of you. Heck they hate you, actually. With good reason too. You’re not easy to please and most of your staff can’t even do their jobs without you yelling in their faces! It’s hard to believe you’re even a tallest. I doubt your predecessor was ever like this towards his subjects.” Lavender knew she shouldn’t be saying this towards her leader, but Lich obviously needs to hear it from someone. Her hands gripped the sides of her tablet. The tall Irken was livid.

“I am a better tallest than Cini could ever be!” Lich shouted in her face. How dare this drone bring up the bane of his existence like that? Tallest Pepperoncini was nothing but a lazy old dream catcher. A people’s pleaser for all to see. He never took his title seriously and Lich believes he has fixed that image by showing his subjects how fearless and powerful he is. It is still early in his reign and he spent some of it by getting rid of Cini’s followers. Those who did not want Lich to be tallest and have even wanted Miyuki to stand as a better candidate instead of him.

“Cini is ten times the better tallest than you! Say whatever you want about his leading tactics, but he had a LOT of irkens who love, admire and respect him! Your personal staffs all run away or fired because of you.” She’s walking on thin ice with this one. Lavender had to put up with a lot of shit from taller drones but this one plucked her last nerve. Some of her close friends were treated unfairly by this man and it left them with an emotional/mental scar on them. Two moved to conventia, just to get away from the tallest. Lavender lowered her tablet.

“You have a lot to say for one so fat and short. Who sent you to me….Lavender?” He said that as if he didn’t hear her introduce her name already.

“It was Kleff. One of the field directors at the training site for the assigned co-pilots. She told him.

“Is that so? Well you better be worth my time. Fetch me the rest of my wardrobe gear. Read me back the new reports and my schedule list.” He went on as he walked towards her. Lavender’s body jolted a little.

“Oh and by the way….”

In a swift motion, Lich sends a slap across the drone’s face. Making her stumble backwards into the wall. That action stunned Lavender and her body shook as the tallest advances on her, growling.

“If you EVER talk to me like that agin. Or mention Cini in my presence. I will tear you apart and leave your fat carcass for the glorba beast to feast on!”

His threats nothing but true. She has heard enough from the other irkens that Lich would be brutal to anyone who crosses him. Even to his own generals. Not wanting to get hit again. Lavender dipped her head in a respectful way. “I apologize for my behavior, my tallest. It will not happen again.”

“See that it does not! Now go and do what I asked of you drone. My patients run thin!”

Lich returned to his lounging couch and slumped down into it. “I will inform your advisor to come by.” Lavender said. Making one last scroll through her tablet. The tallest waved his hand, dismissively.

“Just get going. I don’t have all day!” He grumbled.

“Yes my tallest.” She salutes and was out of that room in a hurry. Once outside, Lavender let out a long breath she never knew she could breathe.

She shakes out her whole body. Getting rid of the tension that has swallowed her up from just being in the same room as that Irken. What shocked Lavender is hearing her own voice talk back to the leader of the Irken empire. Lich could have easily killed her. Break her down, or throw her out the airlock and no one would care.

“It’s the rush! I’ve never felt so much in control back there. Why did Lich get so offended when I mentioned Pepperoncini? I may not have been around long enough to get to know our former leader, but I do hear tales from those who are close to him. I don’t know why Spinch put up with this guy. I fear if she slips up, he’ll put his hands on her!”

The image of that made Lavender shutter. Those sharp-bladed gauntlets of Lich’s have also been used for his torture games over his inferior subjects, such as his table drones. One in particular has been spared this fate but has had her eyelashes plucked.

“I better get my tallest what he wants before he has another fit. Then blame me for everything….” With that said, Lavender disappeared down the hallway.