#stalling and stalling and stalling instead of facing the music. which in the end is how their own blood catches up to them

[snowberry-pie]

thinking about that one watership down quote. and kit.

[waldau-archived]

how they take care of you — seventeen | 2,531 words | hurt/comfort, fluff

i didn't know i liked writing ot13 this much!

gender neutral reader. warnings: reader is stressed out/tired/scared/ill/sad? y'know, the usual spectrum of negative human emotions?

seungcheol

gets so concerned when he hears a hitch in your voice when you greet him that he drops whatever he’s doing and rushes to you. doesn’t matter if he’s on a call or if he’s doing some important paperwork, he’s all yours now.

gives you a big, comforting hug that tries to shield you from everything but him. kisses your head to try and ground you.

doesn’t make you talk if you don’t want to, but he insists that you don’t keep it in for too long because it’s only going to hurt you in the end. lasts only for a while before asking if there's someone that needs some talking to for making you feel this sad.

tries to do anything in his power to see you smile, even if it's momentary. shows you a funny picture of his favourite child (mingyu) to cheer you up. asks if you feel okay enough to walk kkuma with him, because she needs some time with her other favourite person (you).

“you know i love you, right? that's never changing.”

jeonghan

is proud to be the person that becomes your comfort when something doesn’t go right, or when you’ve had a bad day.

immediately bottles up any jokes he’s about to make and wipes away your tears, stops only when you bat his hands away. even if he doesn’t want to let go of you, he respects your boundaries.

when you're feeling a bit better, he pulls you down into the sofa and cuddles with you, and is content whether you choose to tell him what’s on your mind, or if you want to be silent and fiddle with his shirt instead.

kisses your forehead and looks into your eyes when he promises you that it’s just one bad day, and that he’s always here for all the others. links pinkies with you because he knows how much it means to you, even if it may seem childish.

will resort to tickling you to make the last traces of your sadness vanish, and asks if there’s anything else he can do to make you smile.

joshua

comes to pick you up from work because he has a free day, and realizes something’s wrong the moment you greet him hello without even looking at his face for more than two seconds.

doesn’t make a big deal out of it, though. takes your stuff from you and greets you softly. opens the door for you and buckles your seat belt. asks you if it’s okay that he’s not taking you home first, because there’s some place else he wants to take you.

dismisses any concerns you have about not looking “good enough” to go out, because you look absolutely gorgeous at any time of the day, and he’d never lie about something like this to you. lets you choose whatever music you want as he weaves through the traffic on the streets, telling you about his day.

parks the car and gets out to hold your hand in his as he guides you over to the many stalls, asking you to pick whatever you want to eat. sits next to you on one of the benches overlooking the river, your legs swinging as you lean into his side and enjoy your meal. is glad he could take care of you like this because you needed it.

“trust me when i say whatever happened is not your fault, okay, sweetheart?”

junhui

is more confident in his actions than his words, because he can immediately notice the little changes in your behaviour: your tired smile, and the way you’re kind of curled in on yourself, as if trying to take up less space.

gives you a long hug with lots of cheek kisses and pulls you into the kitchen to show you what he’s working on: a dish that coincidentally happens to be your comfort food. it’s your favourite, especially when jun makes it in his own style.

this six foot man becomes small as he tries to do anything to make you smile. hates that you’re even feeling this way. throws random pickup lines at you to see which one gets you to crack and slap his arm and tell him to stop (he won’t, because he loves you too much).

offers to feed you dinner once it’s ready and makes random airplane noises that bring out a giggle from you. watches as you eat slowly and is glad when he sees your bowl is empty. doesn’t resist your offer of feeding him dinner once you’re done.

hides under the blankets with you and watches cat videos till your eyes shut from exhaustion and his arm hurts from holding up the phone from so long. cuddles with you and doesn’t let go even when you halfheartedly complain about how warm it is.

soonyoung

becomes so gentle that it pulls you out of your dullness a bit, makes you wonder where your usually hyperactive boyfriend is.

doesn’t baby you because he knows you don’t like it, but he makes sure you get everything you need. calls his mother to ask her the exact recipe for this soup she used to feed him when he used to get ill. stays by your side even when you have a raging fever and you’re worried he’s going to catch it if he kisses your cheek one more time.

doesn’t complain even once when you wake him up because of how uncomfortable you’re feeling. what else is he there for, if he can’t take care of the person he loves the most? wraps himself along with you in your blanket even if it’s hot enough that he can just melt.

is your hype man when you finally get better enough to start moving around the house by yourself. watches you with the biggest smile on his face that he will not tamp down when he sees you eating the soup he made, and almost cries with joy when you ask him for a second serving.

doesn’t blame you one bit when he catches the same bug a week later, because you’re there to take care of him through it, and because he loves you too much for it to be an issue.

wonwoo

gently pulls you into his chest the moment he sees your tear-streaked cheeks, and rests his head on yours. doesn’t ask you what’s wrong because he feels it’s more important to make you feel better.

doesn’t care that your tears are leaving behind a spot on his shirt, and shushes you for even pointing it out. in fact he wants you to do that so that you can run out of tears and he can take care of you properly.

gives you his hoodie to wear because it’s oversized on you, and he loves seeing you in it just as much as you love wearing it.

makes you wrap your arms around his waist from behind and cling onto him while he goes about the house finishing his share of chores. does yours without asking if he senses you’re too drained out to do them.

absolutely needs you by his side regardless of what he’s doing, whether it’s playing a game or brushing his teeth. offers to read you a book if you’re having trouble falling asleep. tells you he loves you in the lowest voice possible when he sees you finally asleep against his chest, breathing evened out.

jihoon

might not very verbal, but when it comes to you, he knows exactly what to do to make things better.

knows you’re in his studio when the door shuts, but you don’t greet him. decides to finish some edits on the song he’s working on before he turns to you, only to find you lying on the sofa facing away from him.

genuinely sad to hear you had a bad day. he got through today only because of all the encouraging texts you sent him. decides the least he can do is return the favour.

wraps you in your favourite blanket that he always keeps at the studio for when you visit. holds your hand regardless of whether you want to talk or not. offers to order food to the studio so that he can make sure you’re not hungry.

very thankful that you came to him because you were feeling down, and he very much wants to call it a day and take you home so that he can cuddle with you and make your day just a bit better.

seokmin

his mood almost always mirrors yours, so when he sees you so exhausted and down, his heart genuinely hurts.

not a confrontational person, but he’s willing to fight whatever made you sad, even if it was a table you stubbed your toe on. happy that it brings a smile to your face even if he didn’t actually fight anything.

have you seen his arms? wraps them around you till you push him off with a bit of a smile on your face. he then decides he wants to use them to bake something for you. you’re the better baker between the two of you and since he’s got loads of time today, he decides he wants to learn something that he can make the next time you’re away and he doesn’t have to feel that lonely.

is your own personal jukebox. belts out whatever song you want, and does a mini infinite aju nice in the comfort of your kitchen, making you jump while the oven works, till you’re tired and actually smiling.

“it’ll be okay, i promise. i love you.”

mingyu

hates that you had a nightmare but is thankful that he was sleeping right next to you when it happened.

the biggest cuddle bug you’ll ever see you in your life. when you wake him up with a shaky voice, he immediately blinks out of his sleep and holds you in his arms. he’ll hug you and keep hugging you till he can drain your sadness even just a little.

doesn’t matter how late it is; if you can’t go back to sleep, he’ll pull you to the kitchen and make his ramen just for you. makes you help him chop some ingredients and stir the broth so that you feel involved. keeps purposely bumping into you every time you cross paths and takes a kiss as payment.

finds some cheesy, slow music to dance to and gently pulls you all over the kitchen, twirling you and even bending you as the song ends. loves hearing your laugh when he pulls you back up.

“i hope you dream of me when you sleep again. i love you.”

minghao

words aren’t necessary when he can just take care of you the way you always deserve to be taken care of.

actually gets upset (a little) when you apologize for crying in front of him. who else will make you feel better when you’re down if not for him? makes you promise never to feel nervous to be emotional around him.

runs a bath for you and makes your favourite food. when you’re done with dinner and feeling a bit better, he takes you to bed and cuddles with you, wanting you to focus on his breathing so you can calm yourself. he whispers endearments into your ear. also makes sure you know how proud he is of you for getting through today.

would give you the entire world if he could, but when you tell him the only thing you want is him, he promises you he’s never going anywhere, no matter what happens.

“i’m so lucky to call myself yours, my love. always.”

seungkwan

he can never stand seeing his loved ones sad, so when he sees you, he needs to find a way to make your smile get back to your face.

sees your lips wobble when you say hello to him, and he eventually coaxes the issue out of you: your friends had ditched a get-together you’d been planning at the last minute, and they didn’t even have the decency to apologize for it. he feels extremely angry on your behalf and is ready to curse. doesn’t do it only because it won’t help you.

thinks about what he can do to make you happy. asks if he can take you out on a drive tonight so you can watch the stars with him. when you regretfully decline the offer, he asks if you want to create a blanket fort and watch movies or go to sleep.

it’s not long before he’s constructing a blanket fort for the first time in his life thanks to some youtube tutorials. he’s upset when it collapses right in the middle of constructing it, but he realizes he’d build it a hundred times more if it meant you’d laugh the way you just did.

sets up snacks and your favourite drinks after a while. keeps apologizing to you on behalf of your so-called friends till you tell him to stop. promises that he’s always going to be with you, and that you don’t have to be sad when you’re with him. falls asleep with you in his arms, and a smile on your face, snacks and movies forgotten.

hansol

feels bad the moment he sees you try to mask the sadness on your face with a smile.

better with actions than words, so he kisses your forehead and trails you around the house while you try to relax from the day you had. if you’re really sad, he lets you just rest your head against his collarbone and breathe till you feel better.

“you’ve got this, and you’ve got me, okay? i’m right here.”

has a bunch of handmade coupons for whenever you feel sad. each coupon has the same four options: eat, talk, watch a movie, sleep. does whatever you choose, whether it’s only one or all four.

another one who has no problem with prolonged eye contact. he looks at you till you understand that he loves you more than he can say and that he’s always there for you when you feel like this.

chan

always used to being babied by his older brothers, so he feels happy to get a chance to take care of you. just doesn’t like the fact that you’re sad, because you deserve to be anything but.

very transparent with his affection for you. he whispers “i love you” into your hair when you ask him for a hug, shouts it across the living room when you come out to get some water, and holds your hand under the table during dinner even if it’s inconvenient.

if you’re really down, and don’t feel like talking, he bundles you into a blanket and puts you on the sofa and sits close to you, so that you have your space but he’s close enough if you need him.

sits with you while you work and watches intently even if he doesn’t understand much of what you’re doing. ready to go to the store and get you anything you’re craving, regardless of how late it is.

“i love looking after you, okay? don’t ever feel bad about telling me what’s troubling you.”

taglist: @bookyeom @wootify @strnsvt @cloudycaramel @thepoopdokyeomtouched

@minnieminshi @nonononranghaee @hrts4hanniehae @viewvuu @bewoyewo

[flemingsfreckles]

Drunk Dial

Synopsis: After a rough night out, you accidentally call your ex-girlfriend to come pick you up, causing unresolved feelings and confessions to be made.

Warning: mentions of alcohol consumption, drunkenness, mention of nonsexual nudity, language, unwanted sexual attention from men

WC: 3.7k

A/N: this was supposed to be like a 1k little fic and then it became this, I’m debating a part 2 if people are interested as well

You try and catch your breath as you pull out your phone, hand shaking as you click though your contacts. Your best friend was out of town, she’d be no help. You debate a few other names, some had kids, you couldn’t wake them at this hour, some you didn’t feel comfortable asking. Until your eyes fell on her name.

You shouldn’t call her. You were supposed to be no contact. But maybe she’d answer. She was in town, as far as you knew, she didn’t have kids, she was a safe person for you. You still shouldn’t call her. Despite knowing you shouldn’t click her name, you do anyway. Letting it ring and ring. As it rings, you receive a text.

Jessie: butt dial?

You respond embarrassingly fast. The ringing stops, you hear the automated voice begin to talk about a voicemail. You end the call and text her back.

You: No

Jessie matches your embarrassing response time, but instead of responding with a text, she calls you back.

“Hello?” She says. As she picks up the phone she’s able to make out the loud music muffled by the sound of the building and the noise of the occasional car on the street.

Your stomach sinks hearing her voice. You had gotten so used to hearing that soft, sweet, voice everyday until you didn’t. Until you went weeks without hearing it. You clear your throat trying to clear your mind. “I’m sorry, I didn’t have anyone else to call.” Your voice breaks slightly.

“What?” You can hear the sleep in her voice. That was the voice that you used to hear in the mornings after your spend the night, the voice you heard after she’d fall asleep cuddled into your side watching a movie. You hear her clear her throat. “What’s going on?”

“Oh my god you’re sleeping, I’m so sorry. I’ll call someone else.” You quickly pull the phone from your ear, you can hear Jessie talking but it’s too late as you hit the button ending the call. Less than a second later Jessie is calling you again.

You stare at her picture looking back at you. It was one you had taken of her on your one year anniversary date. You had taken her for a hike, packing a picnic for the two of you to enjoy with a beautiful view of a waterfall. The photo is her, black baseball cap sitting on top of her curls, smiling at you as she holds out a flower to you. You let it ring, and ring. Until her face disappears.

Jessie: Answer the phone.

Jessie: I’m not kidding.

Her face appears again, you sigh. You didn’t have much of a choice, she was still someone you trusted, you were too far from home to walk, not to mention it was 2am. you slide your thumb slowly across the screen, answering the call.

“Um.”

“Where are you?” Her sleepy voice is gone, instead it’s been replaced with one of concern.

“Outside of Marathon.” It was a bar the two of you frequented while together, which probably didn’t help, memories flashing through your head at every turn when you were inside. The booth the two of you shared the first time you went there. The table you stood at watching as she played darts with another patron, coming back between throws to cuddle into your side. You saw the large table that had been filled with Jessie’s teammates the first time she brought you to meet them. The bathroom stall that the two of you had done some rather inappropriate things in, it was all here, leading you to ordering drink after drink, drowning out your sorrows and the memories.

“What are you doing at a bar at 2 in the morning?”

“I went out Jessie. Which was a mistake, I’m going home now.” You huff, you didn’t want to have to explain to her. You didn’t want to admit that you were trying to move on. You didn’t want to have to admit that you got stood up, that would be embarrassing. You didn’t want to have to explain to her how you spent most of the night trying to reject men who thought they had a chance, one of them not caring for your rejection at the bar, finding you later on the dance floor and grinding himself against your backside, causing you to bolt from the establishment.

You hear loud rustling on the other end of the line. “Okay, I’m going to come get you okay?” There’s more sounds, likely of Jessie moving around but you can’t tell. The sound of keys and a door closing.

“No, Jessie you don’t have to, I can get home.” You stand turning, looking down both directions of the street. You could walk either way. It was a city, it was set up in blocks. Over a few up a few, or up first then over, it didn’t matter.

“No. There’s a reason you called, do not start walking home.” Her voice is stern, you can picture her face, eyebrows scrunched, her lips pulled tight. “Seriously, stay where you’re at.” You hear the car start. “I’ll be there in a few minutes, do not move.”

You don’t respond, instead choosing to hang up. You know deep down that probably will send her into a slight panic, thinking you weren’t waiting outside the bar. Per Jessie’s request, you stay where you’re at, but you wander over to the curb, sitting down in a rather clumsy manner. You think back though your evening, your mess of an evening. A couple of tears begin to flow as you feel sorry for yourself. You drop your head into your hands, your elbows propped up on your knees. You sit like that until your thoughts are broken into by a voice.

You hear your name being called and look over to see Jessie walking quickly toward you. You quickly bring your hands up to your face trying to clear the tears that stained your cheeks.

“Hey.” Jessie bends down when she reaches you. “Are you hurt?” You shake your head to her. “What happened?”

“I was supposed to be meeting this girl that I was sort of chatting up.” You swallow down tears and your pride as you continue on. “She um, well she stood me up, she never showed, so I had a couple drinks, and then a couple more, and then there was this man who tried to get me to go home with him, and he came up behind me when I was at the bar and he um.” Your eyes flick to Jessie. She was watching you with such intensity you felt as if you were suddenly under a microscope, being picked apart.

“You can tell me.” Jessie lets a hand come rest on your bent knee, giving you a reassuring squeeze.

“He put himself against me and it just, I asked him to stop, he didn’t, so then I ran. And I didn’t have anyone else to call, I’m so sorry. I just want to go home.”

“Don’t be sorry, I’ll get you home, can you stand up?” You nod. Ignoring her outstretched hand you attempt to get up yourself. Once you’re nearly standing it’s as if someone has spun the globe, feeling suddenly off balance you stumble a few steps.

Jessie’s hands are immediately reaching to you, one on your waist, the other gripping your bicep as she stands you upright. “Woah. You’re clearly not okay.” You hear her mumble to herself. “Come on, I'm parked just around the corner.”

“Piggyback.” You say to her. You didn’t want to walk your feet feeling like they were made of lead. You wanted a ride, Jessie frequently would pick you up on her back, or carry you bridal style, or across her front, it always made you feel special. Made, you remind yourself, in the past, she didn’t do that for you anymore.

“No, just, here I’ll help you walk.” She loops her arm around your shoulders and tries to get you to step but you let your feet remain in place, heavy to the ground.

“Jessssie.” You know you sounded whiny, but you didn’t care, the drinks in your bloodstream telling you it was okay. “Please.” You give her a pleading look, one you knew she had a hard time refusing back when the two of you were together. So what if you were pulling on her heartstrings a little, she was the one who offered to come get you.

Jessie lets out a huff, realizing it’ll be easier to get you to the car carrying you, instead of fighting your drunkenness the whole way. “Fine, but no piggyback, that’s not safe with you like this.”

“Koala then.” Before she can say yes, you're lunging at Jessie, wrapping your arms around her neck and your legs around her midsection.

You feel one of Jessie’s hands come to rest high on your back before the other finds its way to your ass, just like how she would have carried you when you were together. Her hand is only there for a moment before she whispers a quick apology and moves to your lower back. “Sorry, habit.” As soon as she apologizes she starts walking.

You rest your head on her shoulder, watching as she keeps her gaze forward, aggressively avoiding looking over at you. You admire her, her face, her eyes, the way her soft curls bounced in front of your face with each step she took, the smell of her shampoo bringing back even more memories. With each step your body gently bounces with her. Before you know it she stops walking and she slowly releases the hold on your back.

She keeps one hand on your back to steady you, her other reaches for the car door, opening it before gently pushing you toward the seat. “Get in.”

You're clumsy climbing into her passenger seat. Jessie’s hand comes to rest on the top of your head making sure you don’t hit it as you step into the car. As soon as you’re seated you let your head flop back to the headrest and your eyes fall shut as Jessie closes the door and she walks around climbing into the driver's seat. You hear the noises of the car as she turns it on, the radio softly playing.

“Put your seatbelt on.”

You hum back, hearing her words but the weight of your arms suddenly feels too much, your eyelids equally heavy, you didn’t want to open them, so you don’t. You remain in the passenger seat, eyes closed not moving. You hear Jessie shift in her seat, her own buckle being undone before she’s leaning over the console toward you, her hand blindly reaching for the seatbelt. You open your eyes to her face just inches from yours.

You begin to look at the freckles on her cheek. Freckles that you used to study when you’d wake up before her. The beautiful spots, you had once spent a whole evening trying to kiss each one, you spend hours and we’re still unable to kiss every single one. Freckles that haven’t changed despite everything between the two of you feeling as if it had.

“Close your eyes, you’re staring.”

“You’re pretty.” Is all that comes out of your mouth as you close your eyes again. Jessie finally is able to click your seatbelt before buckling her own. It doesn’t take long for the gentle movement of the car and your exhaustion to take over lulling you into deep sleep.

The raging headache you woke up to was preventing your ability to open your eyes, let alone pull yourself from your bed. You roll around reaching out to your nightstand hoping to find water but instead finding a lamp. You didn’t have a lamp on your nightstand. Your eyes open and then shoot wide when you realize where you were. You were in Jessie’s bedroom. You frantically roll over finding the other half of the bed to be empty.

You pull yourself from the blankets and the pillows that were encapsulating you in the smell of your former lover. Your feet touch the ground and you look down to see you weren’t in the jeans and shirt you had gone out in last night. You were in a pair of loose shorts and a simple shirt that you knew was Jessie’s.

You crack open Jessie’s bedroom door, looking out to the rest of her place, scanning the room until your eyes meet hers. She’s sitting on the couch, a pillow and blanket donned across the cushions, she had clearly slept there last night.

“Hey.”

“Hi.” She stands up from the couch but doesn’t move toward you. “Are you alright?”

“I mean, hungover, but yeah I’m okay, I think.” Your hands come down to the bottom of Jessie's shirt that sat across your chest. “I remember calling you but honestly, I don’t really remember anything after I got in your car.”

“I can tell you, if you want.”

You nod and make your way into her living room, sitting on a chair that sat adjacent to her sofa.

“You fell asleep on the ride home, I decided to bring you here, which I know wasn’t exactly what you asked but I was worried about you. I wanted to be nearby in case you needed anything, I don’t know what you drank or ate, it just didn’t feel right dropping you off at your place alone.” Jessie looks over to you, checking that you’re following her explanation.

You nod at her, encouraging her to continue.

“I brought you into my room, got some clothes for you, I then left to come get settled out here and then you came out here, um, without a shirt complaining that you couldn’t get your pants off so I helped you change. You said that was okay but obviously you were drunk so you can’t really consent but I figured it was okay, I just wanted to help you.”

You reach a hand out, placing it on her forearm. She stops talking, her attention being grabbed by the feeling of you hand on her body. “That’s fine Jessie, I asked and you were helping me. Plus it’s nothing you haven’t seen or touched before.”

Jessie smiles quickly, letting a quick laugh fall from her lips as she looks down shaking her head. “That’s what you said last night too. But, yeah then I tried to get you to brush your teeth, that was a challenge.”

You winced at your own behavior, embarrassed that you probably acted like a child. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be, it was fine. Then I got you into bed, made you drink some water, and you passed out pretty quick.” Jessie says, ending her sentence with a nod. What she didn’t tell you was how you had blabbered on about the girl you were supposed to have met that night.

“Jess, I don’t even think I want to date her.”

“Who?” Jessie asked as she rummaged in her closet for an extra toothbrush and a fresh washcloth.

“The girl who stood me up.”

Her hands froze as she reached for the small towel. She didn’t expect to have to talk about this with you. “Oh.”

“I think, I think, I’m just trying to get over you. Like you’re the love of my life, and we couldn’t make it work. And it hurts. And I want to fill that hole. So I got on Tinder, and I swiped and swiped and no one was even close to as amazing as you, but I’ll have to settle for someone right?”

“Um.” Jessie was pretty sure you had no idea what you were talking about, just letting every thought you had fall out of your mouth. She assumed you wouldn’t remember most of the night, especially this. She handed you the washcloth, to which you gave her a pouty frown. She sighed before wetting the washcloth herself, gently rubbing it across your face. As she wiped you began talking again.

“No one makes me smile like you did, no one makes me feel the heat, the butterflies, whatever it is, that feeling, no one can even compare. You’ve ruined love for me Jessie Fleming, no one can compete with you. I think I’m always going to love you, I still do. I want to text you after every game, I want to call you at night to hear your voice before I sleep. I miss waking up next to you. I just, I miss you. And I can’t have you. I was a distraction to you.”

The break up with Jessie had been amicable. You both came to the conclusion that life was too much. Jessie having to juggle the national team, being captain, dealing with the lawsuit, the drone scandal, on top of playing for Portland, she didn’t have time for you. You didn’t have much time for her either, having just gotten a new promotion, it came with new responsibilities. Responsibilities that had you in the office early and coming home late, responsibilities that had you traveling more often than not. The two of you watched as the living relationship you had built crumbled before your eyes, breaking both of your hearts. It would have been easier if you’d fallen out of love, if you had a huge fight, but you didn’t. Life had simply gotten in the way, and that hurt so much more.

“Let’s go get you tucked in.” Jessie says, trying to avoid the conversation you were having. She couldn’t do this with you, especially when she was pretty sure you didn’t know what you were even saying. She led you to the bed, pulling back the covers on what used to be your side of her bed, letting you climb in before pulling the sheet up for you. “Here’s water, drink some. If you need anything I’ll be out there.” She points toward the door.

“Stay?” Your question was almost a whisper, as if you were scared to ask. Jessie watched as you looked between her and the empty side of her bed.

“I,” Jessie shook her head at you. She longed so badly to be back in your arms, to fall asleep to the sound of your breathing. “I can’t.” She had turned and left you in the bed, her bed, leading herself to the couch where she knew she’d have a sleepless night, running through all the confessions you just told her.

”Well, I’m really, really sorry for putting you in that situation.”

“It’s okay, really.”

“No, it’s not, we were supposed to be no contact. I’m sorry I broke that.” You try to make eye contact with the Canadian, wanting her to know that while sure part of you was so happy to see her again, you felt embarrassed, you shouldn’t have made her come get you.

“It’s really okay, I’d rather you be safe than not call me.” Jessie grabs the pillow, placing it on her lap, her hands kneading at it.

“Well, thank you. Seriously.”

“Of course, I’m maybe not in love with you anymore, but I will always have love for you. And I’m always going to care about you. You can always call me.” Jessie said, knowing she was lying through her teeth. She still was very much in love with you. That’s why she jumped at the opportunity to come help, to see you again.

“Thanks.” You say quietly and Jessie nods slightly. The two of you are left in a silence for a moment. It was a new silence between the two of you. Silence had been common in your relationship, Jessie wasn’t always the biggest talker and you both enjoyed the peacefulness, but those had never been uncomfortable silences. This was uncomfortable.

“Well.” You clap your hands together across your lap. “I should go, get out of your hair, I’ve done enough.” You push up from the chair. “Where are my clothes from last night? I’ll give you these back.” You pull at the shirt you had on.

“Oh, don’t worry about it, just wear them home.” Jessie walks over to her kitchen counter handing you a reusable bag. “Here’s all your stuff, wallet is in there too. Your phone was charging next to the bed.”

“Yeah I grabbed it.” You show her the outline of our phone in the pocket of her shorts.

“Okay.”

“Okay. I guess I’ll be going.” You take a couple steps towards the door, finding the sneakers you had worn out the night before. “I’ll wash the clothes and get them back to you tomorrow, or I can bring you them tonight?”

“Whenever, it’s just sleeping clothes, I don’t need them back right away.”

“Okay.” You reach for the door before quickly turning to look at Jessie one more time. “Thank you again, and I’m really sorry.” The brunette just nodded at you. A smile that you couldn’t quite read across her face. She opened her mouth briefly before shutting it as if she wanted to say something but changed her mind. You head out the door, closing it behind you, unsure if you’d see her face again anytime soon.

As the door closed Jessie turned to face away from the door, backing up a few steps and letting her back rest against it for a moment. Maybe she should’ve told you, that you had told her about your feelings. Maybe she should’ve told you she still feels the same about you, that she’d be willing to try again, that she wanted to try again. But she hadn’t, and she’d have to learn to live with that.

[withacapitalp]

All this was inspired by listening to She’s So Overrated by Madilyn Bailey so fair warning LMAO. Also this got SO MUCH LONGER THAN I MEANT IT TO IM SORRY IT WAS JUST ME WRITING DOWN AN IDEA......

Okay so I’m having thoughts about modern AU lead singer Eddie Munson who’s been in the industry for years with the boys. Corroded Coffin is a staple of the metal industry, but for a few years he’s been feeling really stalled in his career and just stuck in place. He’s still making music, still performing, but he feels like he’s getting farther and farther from that kid who used to scream and sing in his closet bedroom in the shoebox apartment he used to share with Wayne. 

So when he and the boys are in an interview and the interviewee brings up how “King” Steve Harrington from The Four is trying to reinvent himself with the help of former bandmate Robin Buckley, Eddie goes off. He works himself up into a little tizzy, ranting Munson Doctrine style about how a former teen pop star trying to become some second rate folk singer isn’t anything special, and that he wouldn’t be caught dead cashing in like that. 

That Steve’s music is bad (even though he’s honestly never listened to it) and “King” Steve is overrated. How even Beiber is better than him. He’s just bullshit. 

Of course the interview goes viral, and finds its way to Steve and Robin. Robin listens to it first and she doesn’t want Steve to watch it. She knows how close things like this cut him (especially that word), and how he’s been dealing with a lot of hate from everyone even from former fans who are confused by the sharp contrast of his new music- aka the music he’s finally being allowed to write now that he’s broken away from his momager- but Steve makes her show him. 

She’s sure that she’s going to have to spend the next week rebuilding his confidence. 

And instead, Steve’s lip curls into a smile, and he grabs his songbook, telling her to find her guitar. 

Eddie wakes up five days after the interview to a huge flood of social media notifications, a dozen missed calls from the boys and his manager and his uncle. He ignores them all and goes to see what he fucked up this time. 

Eddie opens Youtube and it’s at the top of his recommendations. The thumbnail is Steve and Robin sitting together with a guitar in her lap. The title of the video is just one word. 

Bullshit. 

This can’t be good. 

Eddie listens to it even though he doesn’t want to. He’s a lot of things, but he’s not a coward. Not anymore. He listens to it because he has to know how much he’s fucked up. 

And then he listens to it again. And again. And again. 

It gets stuck in his head. All of it. Not just the song (which admittedly is pretty killer) but also hearing the flippantly mean words he had casually thrown at Steve being shoved back in his face. He had seen Steve as an abstract thing, just a symbol of everything wrong with the industry, not a real person. And now this actual human being that he’s hearing has turned all of that garbage into a song that feels more genuine then most of the music on the last two albums he wrote himself. A song that has heart, joy, and a strong current of pain underneath, especially in the bridge where Steve just sings the word bullshit over and over. 

There’s even more than that. He also sees the way Robin and Steve interact while they’re working the smiles, the jabs, the silly little way Steve bobs his head along as he listens to her play, the way they both collapse into giggles at the end as Steve directly quotes the part of the interview where Eddie said that Steve “is just another laundry basket devil trying to act like a big shot now that he’s too old for teen girls to moon over.” 

He can’t remember the last time he and the boys had that much fun making a song. 

Hell, Eddie even sees their apartment. It’s a pretty nondescript room, but he can see the wear and tear on the furniture, the cobwebs in the corners of the room, the slightly drooping houseplant with the name “Dart” lovingly painted on its pot. It feels like a home, and as Eddie looks around at the bedroom in his far too big mansion, he feels even more like a fraud. 

Eddie listens to the song on repeat for most of the morning. In the afternoon he finally answers everyone, and starts to put his plan into motion. 

By that evening he’s on the phone with Steve asking him and Robin to help Corroded Coffin write their next song. 

[h0nology]

Falling For You

Miles finally takes you swinging with him

warnings: fluff, reader puts herself in danger (once), talk of family issues, not proofread

it was around 1am when your phone woke you up out your sleep, you were about to ignore it, figuring it wasn’t anything important until it dinged again. and again.

it was your best friend, miles.

you quickly hopped out of bed, knowing that if you didn’t you would’ve fallen back asleep. you wipe the sleep from your eyes, yawning as you unlocked the window and then plopped back down on your bed.

part of you wondered why miles was coming over so late. he’s never came over this late, let alone ask you to unlock your window. the other part of you was nervous, not too far into your friendship you had developed a big crush on miles. you tried to deny it at first, push it to the side and try to forget about it. but your feelings for him were too strong, and everytime you guys hung out it just got stronger.

you knew having a crush on your best friend wouldn’t end well, it never did. the second he finds out you like him, the friendship is awkward and pretty much over.

you were snapped out your thoughts when you saw his figure outside your window, quietly opening the window and falling into your room.

“hey, i’m sorry if i woke you up.” his voice was groggy, “can i crash here tonight?”

“yeah, is everything okay?” you asked.

he had a sullen look on his face, somewhat slouching over as he stood there.

“it’s a long story that i’ll tell in the morning. i just want to shower and sleep.”

“okay, that’s fair. let me grab you a towel and wash cloth.”

he enters the bathroom as you crept out to the hallway closet, quietly opening and closing the door trying not to wake up your household. you made your way back in your room, entering the now stuffy bathroom and placing down the towel.

“here!” you throw the washcloth into the shower, “thank you.” he slightly chuckles as you walk out the bathroom and shut the door.

you plopped down on your bed, pulling the covers over your body. you wanted to stay up and wait for miles to come out the bathroom but your eyes grew heavy as soon as your head hit the pillow. and next thing you know, you were drifting into your slumber.

˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚

when you woke up you weren’t expecting for miles to be right next to you, giving you no room to roll over and stretch. he was even under the same blanket as you, the blanket barely covering him since you’re known to hog the blanket.

“good afternoon.” miles yawns next to you, eyes still closed.

“how’d you know i was awake?” you raise a brow, “must be the spidey senses.” he shrugs, chuckling soon after.

“ok shutup.” you laugh, getting out the bed and walking towards your bathroom.

wow. so that happened. first sleepover with your best friend/crush. you were so ready to tell the group chat about this.

once you started brushing your teeth, miles joined you in the bathroom. washing his face and brushing his teeth with the extra toothbrush you had. once you two finished, you both made your way towards your living room. the house was empty so miles decided to turn on some music, his random ass playlist blaring through your speaker.

“so you gonna tell me why you showed up to my house past midnight?” you plopped down on your couch, “before you start interrogating me, can we at least eat?” he plops down next to you.

“i’ll order us something, there’s nothing in there.” you grabbed your phone, “now get to talking.”

“you didn’t even ask me what i wanted!”

“pasta! you always get pasta!” you say, you don’t understand his obsession.

“okay but which kind?” he raised his brow at you, a smirk creeping up on his face.

he’s stalling.

“talk, miles.” you look at him.

the smirk disappears from his face as he lets out a sigh, “my parents have been having some issues lately, so i just felt comfortable coming here instead of going home, plus i just knew that it would be peaceful here, with you of course.”

you didn’t know what you were expecting to hear, but it wasn’t that. that wasn’t really like his parents, they rarely argued with each other—well, at least you thought.

“i’m glad you feel comfortable here…” you slightly smile, “are you okay?”

“yeah. i just feel like i’m stuck in the middle of it. i just want to see my parents get along again, you know?“ he shook his head, for a second it looked like he was about to cry.

“miles? don’t cry.” you scooted closer to him, bringing him in your embrace, “i’m sure they’ll work out whatever it is they have going on.”

“you’re right, it’s not even my situation.” he pinched in between his eyes, “well, they are your parents so it’s okay to be emotional about it…” you tell him.

“i guess you’re right...” he sighs, sitting up.

“i’m always right.” you joke as the sound of the doorbell went off, “foods here!”

you pick the food up from the doormat and place the bag on the table, miles immediately opening it and taking out his pasta. you sat at the table with him and started eating your burrito, the both of you sitting in silence as you devoured your food.

“so…. i have a question.” you trailed off, you’ve always wanted to ask him this but for some reason was too nervous to.

“wassup?”

“and you can say no if you want!” you assured him, “alright well that depends n what it is.” he laughs, “just ask it already." he was growing impatient.

“can you take me swinging with you?” you blurted out, “and by take me i mean i clutch onto you as you swing across the city…”

"you being for real right now?" he looks at you, “why?”

he was amused by your request, he wasn’t at all expecting for you to ask him that.

“i just wanna see how it feels.” you shrug, your cheeks hot as ever.

“uh…okay, yeah i’ll take you.” he shrugs, “really?” your face lit up.

“yeah.” he chuckles, finishing up his pasta, “let me change into my suit real quick.” he gets up from the table and disappears down the hall.

the suit. you remember the first time you saw him in it. you couldn’t believe your eyes but you also couldn’t help but admire how good he looked in it.

while he changed you grabbed a jacket out the closet and threw on your shoes, waiting for him to come down. once he did it only took you two a couple minutes to make it to the roof of your building.

“you sure you wanna do this?” miles looks at you as he steps onto the ledge.

“positive.” you smile up at him.

he smiled back, pulling you up on the ledge with him. he wrapped his arm around your waist as your arms wrapped around his neck, and without a warning you two were free falling. you couldn’t even process what he was doing, one minute you were swinging up, then going down again. your face was buried in his neck, you were too scared to even look at anything.

“hey! you wanted to do this, the least you can do is actually look!” miles yells over the wind, “i promise i wont let anything happen to you. you’ll never hit the ground when i’m around.”

his words somewhat reassured you, peeking your eye open as he swung around a building.

“one, that was corny.” you yell, “two, you really wouldn’t let me fall?”

“of course not.”

you two continued to swing, you had eventually opened both of your eyes, taking in the scenery around you. after a while he began to speed up slightly, the wind blowing against your hair harder now. you almost felt like falling a few times, but miles kept a firm grip onto you, never letting you slip once.

when you saw that you two were approaching the brooklyn bridge you had two thoughts. one, how did we get here so fast and the second probably wasn’t the best idea but you wanted to test out a theory, was miles really going to keep his word? you didn’t even give it a second thought, as soon as you two swung on the side of the bridge your grip on miles loosened and in a matter of seconds you were free falling.

miles looks back sharply at you when he feels your weight suddenly disappear.

"hey, hey, hey!" you could hear the panic in his voice.

okay maybe this was a bad idea.

please catch me. please catch me. please catch me.

you don’t know how he did it, but he had reached you right before you hit the water.

"mami what in the world is wrong with you?! ¿eres estúpido?! what if i didn't catch you?" he spoke quickly as he held you tight in his arms once again, continuing to swing, “you promised you’d never let me fall.” you breathe out.

"that was under the assumption that you would never jump out of my grasp! you’re crazy!" he continued to scold you like you were a child.

okay yeah that was stupid, but a little fun…

“never do that again.”

“i’m sorry.” you chuckled, “and your laughing.” he sighs, you didn’t even have to see his face to know he was rolling his eyes.

you two swung around for a bit longer, before stopping for a break after a while. he landed on top of a building, where you had a perfect view of the sunset. you two sat on the ledge of the building, feet dangling as you looked at the city in front of you.

“that was…” miles started, “fun.” you finished his sentence.

“yeah, it was.” he chuckles, “better with you by my side.”

your cheeks heated up at his comment. you couldn’t even bring yourself to reply, just sitting there with a slight smile on your face. was this the right time to tell him? to just get it over with and see what he says?

“i’m glad to have shared it with you.” you finally spoke, “well what other spider-man do you know that you can do that with?” he joked.

all you could do was playfully roll your eyes at him.

“i’m kidding!” he laughs, pulling you into his side, so your head was now resting on his shoulder and his arm was wrapped around you, rubbing your arm.

now was the moment, if you were reading the signs right.

“miles, i-i have something i wanna tell you.”

okay that was the easier part, but now you have to tell him.

“what’s up?”

you took a deep breath, it’s now or never. what’s the worst that can happen? he says he doesn’t feel the same way and you jump off the building? (not really yall ssksksk) he stops rubbing your arm, pulling out of the embrace to look at your face.

“what is it?” he was starting to sound worried.

“i like you, miles.” you blurted out. that wasn’t as smooth as you wanted it to be but it had to do.

miles goes silent as he hears those words come out of your mouth. he doesn’t even know what to say, he just stares at you in shock.

"you do?" was all he said, the smile grew on his face, almost making it look goofy.

“uh yeah, that’s what i just said.” you say.

the boy was flabbergasted. so many emotions ran through him at the moment…shock, excitement and happiness. your sentence just completely changed his world.

"i...i like you too..." he was a bit overwhelmed but was trying to play it cool, “i've been in denial about my feelings for so long, but...i can't lie to myself anymore."

your heart was in your stomach.

“oh. wow, i wasn’t expecting this.” you chuckled nervously, “yeah, me either.” he says.

“so….” you trailed off.

“does this make us a couple now?” he looks at you.

when you envisioned someone asking you out you never would’ve thought it’d be your best friend while you two sat on the ledge of building.

“i guess it does…”

[silentmagi]

Rising Star

Main Page

I’m so happy that people still enjoy this story, and I’m hoping that you’re sharing it with your friends. Please make sure to let me know if you have any suggestions or comments. I’d love to hear back from any of you. I apologize for the delay in posting this, had a bunch of family stuff come up. Happy Mother's Day to those that celebrate it.

So we had a vote, and it was interesting to see the winner be Retire for the night and make sure Star gets some sleep.

So it is time for some eyelid theater for our celestial duo.

After getting to the inn, she was greeted by a plate and a beaming bar maid that helped her find a seat and a mug to go with the hot meal. The food and booze added to the long day, and soon she found herself drifting away up the stairs and seeking out the room that the barkeep had told her was the room she shared with Star.

Star…

There was a problem that she’d been putting off thinking about, and now that she was outside the room after the realization, she didn’t know if she had the courage to face the truth. Listening to the local minstrels picking up the night’s music, she leaned back against the door and sighed heavily.

She could name at least a dozen tales that started off with two adventurers finding their hearts aligning, and coming out stronger for the love they shared. Some even called it a special type of magic if you wanted her to tell you more about them.

Yet, there were more, so many more that warned against the false love that could come from the thrill of adventure and the shaking of the bonds of adventure which could come from sharing danger and so much time together. How it amplifies elements to degrees they cannot support after the adventure is over.

Taking a deep breath, she thought about what was needed right now. Star didn’t need her to force anything. It was time to focus on the story, not the ending. Nodding, she decided that she would help Star get to her goal and bring back magic. She would care for her, and once the magic has been restored, then she would speak the truth in her heart.

Opening the door finally, she walked in and… found the second cutest scene she could think of. There was Star sprawled out on a bed, with a few scrolls beside her, and one unfurled under her head. Gently she lifted the mage’s head from the scroll and slipped it out, knowing she’d feel horrible if it got damaged while she slept, she replaced it with a pillow. Tucking Star in, she smiled, thinking how nice it was to see her companion being more of her true self.

She had seen the stress and anxiety grow over their travels, and while the story promised to be wonderful, she knew that the characters were real people that history will forget. She wanted to help, but she also knew that it would be best to help Star get to the academy and review the mountains of paperwork that she’d found.

Star needed someone there to prevent herself from working until she passed out. Rolling up the scroll, she picked up the others and went to put them all into Star’s bag. Seeing a book in there, she was tempted to pick it out and give it a read, but her conscience stayed her hand. She didn’t think Star would want her reading anything when she was sleeping.

Instead she snuffed the candles, leaving the shutters open on their narrow window for air, and laid down to sleep. Hopefully, the next leg of their journey would be easy. Little did she notice a shadowy figure watching through the window before hopping off and flying away.

[asnowfern]

When Words Fail

Summary: Elain doesn’t get out of the town house much. But on a rare occasion that she did, she runs into Lucien at a piano studio.

Rating: G

WC: 2.5k

Read on AO3

A/N: Happy @elucienweekofficial (aka one of the best times of the year🥰)! This was originally intended for the day 2 prompt: Golden. BUT I was in bed with a flu so you get it on day 3 instead 🤧 Enjoy ☺️

When words fail, music speaks

- Hans Christian Anderson

The city of dreamers buzzes around Elain, comes to life with energetic shouts across the streets advertising for new shows and wafts of delectable street snacks. Doe eyes widen to take them all in.

A biting wind passes her by and Elain pulls her cloak closer around her, enveloping herself entirely in the thick feathered coat. Tugging the soft hat to cover the pinked edged tips of her ears, delicate button nose twitches slightly to sniff the wondrous buttery scent.

The middle Archeron rarely leaves the confines of the town house, usually content to bide her time in the greenhouse or in the kitchens. But just for today, astounded by Feyre’s artistic depiction of the Rainbow, did it occur to her just how much of the city that she has lived in for years but still has yet to see, so much that she has yet to experience. It stokes the long dormant part of her that once dreamt of adventures on the continent. All before…

Elain shakes her head with a grimace. Tonight is not a night for dwelling. Her thoughts short-circuit when a particularly fragrant scent hits her. The edges of her lips quirk upwards as she holds herself back from bouncing towards the street stall.

She exchanges a silver coin for a rich buttery pastry, wincing as molten chocolate ganache floods her mouth from the very first bite. With a palm still cradling the hot soft pastry, she continues her way through the bustling street.

Then her feet halts in front of a plain beige unassuming building.

Despite the lively chatter of the Rainbow, the sound of light flowing keys of a piano effortlessly reaches her. She turns towards it, stuffing the remainder of her snack into her mouth and hastily swipes the crumbs away from her cheeks. Her feet move mechanically on its own accord, like a rope that has been tied around her waist and pulls her into the building.

The city noises muffle, blocked by the wooden door frame of the building entrance. Elain is able to clearly hear the melody now, muted and uncertain, supported by the gentle running chords in the lower register. A simple but melancholic beauty that tugs on her chest and pulls in the most heart twisting manner.

The music turns as she passes by door after door within the studio. The same melody returns, bright and daring. Her chin tilts upwards, chocolate brown orbs widening. At last, her feet stop. Exactly where she needs to be.

It is a cozy quaint space, barely larger than her bedroom. The room is bare save for a grand piano plonked in the middle, the walls are lined with oak panes with a full length bookshelf pushed into a corner.

A golden spotlight streams down on the pianist, gliding along long auburn hair which has been pulled back into a simple low ponytail. A featherlight caresses an all too beautiful face and neckline, accentuating the contrast of his white billowing sleeves.

He doesn’t see her, she thinks.

Not as his fingers gracefully glide up and down the midnight and ivory keys, never ceasing to stop the flow of the music. Not even the slightest hitch in its tempo.

At that moment, Elain admits quietly to herself.

He is truly the most beautiful being she has ever seen.

She doesn’t sit and neither does she linger. After the piece ends, she gives a curt nod before turning around. It is only in the safe space of her own solitude does she acknowledge the melody that is still a constant flutter in her ears, her chest, her heart.

She returns the following night at the same time.

Foolishly, maybe. She doesn’t even know how long he will be in the city, doesn’t even know if he has left. Yet as she stands, just two steps beyond the doorway, so quiet that not even the sharpest fae ears can register a sound, there is no denying the little part of her that went, oh thank the Mother he is still here.

When the piece ends, the embers in her chest are fanned by a raised eyebrow, an open challenge in the dancing flame of a russet eye. She takes a seat next to him, the bench barely long enough to fit the two of them. Close enough to feel the heat emanating between the narrow space.

She resists the urge to shudder for a different reason and lifts her hands to the keyboard.

He doesn’t rush her, sitting in patient silence as she considers the different pieces she could play. Her mind skips through numerous music, each as showy as the last, each learnt under strict tutelage with the very intention of impressing guests and suitors. She gives herself a mental smack of a head (no, that will not do, she chides) and settles for a simple folk melody from her childhood.

Perhaps it’s anticlimactic and a letdown. Perhaps it’s a peep into years past that she hasn’t shown anyone in Prythian. One that draws a quirk of lips in her peripherals that she pays no mind.

It surprises her when skilled hands join her when she plays a repeated section, effortlessly complements her with his counter melody. A smile plays on her lips in the simple joy of music. The vehicle in which they embark on their unspoken conversation. She goes up, he goes down, then they loop around. The piece stretches and reshapes into a dozen different variations.

But alas, it all comes to an end when another fae interrupts with a knock, signalling the end of the session. It shatters the spell that they have woven with black and white keys, a glass splintering into hundreds of pieces.

It is with a wry smile that they come to a stop. Elain’s hands drop from the board, her insides twisting in disappointment. Lifting her chin slightly, she sucks a breath in and asks, “Maybe another time?”

The smile that blossoms on Lucien’s face leaves her breathless. A crinkle of happiness that threatens to rip apart the seams of intricately weaved vines burying the golden thread deep, deep within her chest.

“I’ll be here.”

The thread lights up with promise.

“So will I.”

***

The duo steps outside back into the frigid night air of Velaris. Before they take a further step, Elain pauses, her hand raises to her cheek to shield her face from a passing wind. Her petite form shivers a little in time with the slap of freeze.

In that moment, her entire being is engulfed in a tall shadow, and a translucent curtain of shimmery maple drapes over her to shield her from the chill. The brunette tilts her head back at a carefully impassive face.

It is the simplest of magics. Something she should be used to after so long with the fae. Even then, it is still a simple gesture that causes rose to dust across her cheeks, a different type of warmth that spreads from her chest. She resists the urge to scoot a little closer to her mate.

“Walk me back?” She asks, brown eyes meeting russet head on, stubbornly holding the stare until the edges of Lucien’s lips slope upwards.

“In need of a personal heater?” He quips.

A smile spreads on her face as she points out, “It’s freezing.”

Elain loops an elbow around Lucien’s as she forces her speeding heart rate to settle.

I can hear your heart beating through the stone. Can you hear mine?

Surely, he must.

Cocooned in their little bubble of warmth, it feels like there isn’t anything that can be hidden from the other. Not the rhythmic drum beats the organ in her chest plays or the shimmery glow of thread tying them together. Thankfully, that doesn’t stop the tall redhead from tightening the space between their arms as they walk down the lively alleyway in companionable silence.

He takes a step back when the entrance to the Town House comes into view, their arms unwinding. And though the shimmering warmth still covers her, Elain feels a smidge colder.

“I will be returning to the Human Lands tomorrow morning.” Lucien informs her softly.

“Oh—”

“But if you would like,” he almost rushes to continue, “I’ll send you a note the next time I’m back in the city.”

“I would like that.” She returns finally as her mate raises one hand to brush the back of her palm. The flame in his eye returns with a spark.

The moment feels surreal and for just a moment, Elain could pretend that she is a simple lady out jn society, and him, a charming suitor. There is no mess of biting cold dark waters of the Cauldron between them. That the rushing beats of her heart and brush of lips on skin is nothing more than the promise of something new, something exciting, something hopeful.

***

Elain’s brows furrow as her fingers speed up to follow the fraught tempo the Autumn son had set. Her frown deepens as she feels herself get pushed out of the music. Two hands drop to one until she eventually lifts her hands back to her chest and sets her gaze higher to the male himself. His fingers continue to fly across the keyboard, so lost in the music that his lips are parted slightly, his mechanical eye clicks to follow the notes. He seemed unaware that she had even stopped.

He throws his weight into the wooden keys, the force of it unravelling strands from his low ponytail. The air rattles around them with the vibrations of his final chord until it dissipates into nothingness.

“Lucien?”

The thread between them pulls taut as her voice brings him out of his reverie and brings mismatched gold and russet eyes on her, round and tinged with the slightest hint of manic.

Even with all the time they had spent together the past few winter months, it is uncharted territory for them to share more than a piano or playful words that mean nothing. Still, Elain gingerly catches the hand that has just fallen back into his lap and draws it close to her.

“What happened?” She asks, rubbing light circles into the soft flesh of the back of his palm, where the index meets the thumb.

She feels his wordless response, of fingers that close around hers, of the tension simmering in each muscle fibre.

She tries again, “Shall we get out of here?”

With a simple nod, her world transforms into the warm licking golden flames of his winnow. It disappears to reveal a simple apartment where familiar city noises continue to trickle in from the windows.

It dawns on her immediately that this is Lucien’s apartment in Velaris.

Utilitarian. Perfunctory. Devoid of personality. Vastly different from the homeliness of the River House or even her own room in the Town House.

Elain had never seen his room in Spring or in the Human Lands but she can say with certainty that it did not look as empty as this. She ignores the slight lump forming in her throat and pulls him over to the plain brown couch. Without letting herself overthink her next actions, she tugged him down with her to settle his head on her lap.

Something twinges in her chest. The bond that she had tried so hard to submerge under the deepest hedge of thorns that threatens to give way to blinding light. She hastily covers his eyes with nimble fingers, lightly brushing the gnarly scars surrounding his left eye, tracing thick brows with her fingertips and easing the tension filled lines.

Slowly but surely, Elain feels the hard muscles relaxing into the plush skin of her thighs and the soft nuzzle of his face into her dress. She shifts her attention to those silky tresses, carding her fingers through them.

“We are losing Vassa,” he mumbles into the soft rolls of her stomach, “the transformations have always taken their toll but it’s getting even harder. To see those sharp cerulean eyes blank and empty, devoid of her usual sharpness and intelligence, even for just a few minutes.”

A sourness pulls at Elain, a sly voice starts to whisper in her ear. Yours. Thief. Claim. Her fingers tremble, entangling digits into thick locks.

“Have you told Rhysand?” She asks instead, not trusting herself to say more yet also, hating her response for its implied immediate deference.

Lucien pulls away, his head turning away as he replies bitterly, “We need more time to gather allied forces from the continent before we can take on Koschei. He’s not wrong,” his eyes flutter shut and the lines between his brows deepen, “but it’s hard to watch.”

“You care for her.” She wonders if she sounds as petulant as she feels.

The look he gives her is reproachful in answer. Yet, he still reassures her, “She’s a good friend.”

Friend, he had seemed to emphasise. But did she even have the right to lay a claim after all these years of nonchalance? Even as the hissing beast prowling the stairs of her ribs calm slightly, placated at the clarification.

Elain continues her ministrations, nimble fingers absentmindedly braiding then combing them out. The monotony diminishes the world around them into the random sounds of the Velarian nightlife and the occasional crackling wood of his fireplace. It envelopes her mind and lets her thoughts stray to the majestic firebird soaring through the skies, screeching as it flies over a lake black as coal. A cold scaly presence yanks her past the line splitting air and water.

It is cold, so cold. Like the Cauldron, like death, like—

CRACK

Elain’s eyes snap open, brown eyes wide with fear. They find mismatched russet and gold instantly, concern and alarm warring within them. She pauses, waiting for the questions that are sure to come.

None came. Just a wary gaze and a firm grip around her hand. Unyielding and grounding.

She asks finally after a few fraught moments, when her heartbeat resembles what felt like normalcy. “What if I can help?”

Lucien sits up, sending a flurry of movement as the mass of flesh and muscle moves in her lap. He is still impossibly near, the heat emanating from his body an entrancing addiction. He asks carefully, “Are you sure?”

“It’s better than…” she trails off because better than what? Better than the comfortable life accorded to her in her sister’s court, surrounded by everything she could ever need? She clears her throat before meeting those assessing eyes. “It’s better than just waiting passively for things to happen to me.”

Lucien stood from the sofa they were sharing, his body angled away from her. And just as Elain opens her mouth to backpedal her decision, he turns back. Eyes gleaming and determined.

“There’s a piano in the manor.”

Elain almost gasps in that moment. Her hand twitches by her side, itching to claw at her chest, to hover over where the golden thread has burst out of its burial site.

It’s bright, it’s dazzling.

It’s iridescent.

END

[lunarfied]

06. WHY DIDN’T YOU STOP ME ? ; dinner gone questionable

scaramouche x gn! reader smau

both pov;

putting his phone down after the surprisingly helpful talk with alhaitham, kuni glanced at the digital clock on his nightstand. 17:05, he had to be at the restaurant for 17:30 so he was a bit behind. the address ajax had texted him to meet at was less than a 10 minute walk from where he currently lived, which kuni assumed was done on purpose. ajax knew vaguely of kuni’s living situation and always tried to make things better for him when they hung out. that gesture alone was enough to make kuni warm up to the other guy.

a knock on his door brought him out of his thoughts. kuni jumped to his feet and started to gather his things. he didn’t need anything specifically, he was already dressed after all, but it was better safe than sorry and most of the time he came overprepared.

”got somewhere to be?” the voice of his mother’s lover cut in as she opened the door, yae miko leaned against the door frame with crossed arms and a relaxed expression on her face. 

he didn’t spare her as much as a glance, slinging his small backpack over his shoulder before reaching for his phone and placing it into his shorts pocket. “yes, why?”

”ei was finishing up dinner and sent me up here to fetch you.” yae miko tucked a strand of her dyed pink hair behind an ear, eyes carefully watching kuni’s every move. for as much as people liked to say kuni was lucky to have such a pretty step-mom, she could be cunning and slick in ways people wouldn’t ever want to see. he understood why his mom loved her, they were the same.

”when have i ever ate dinner with either of you?” kuni scoffed, placing a hand on his hip as he finally locked eyes with her.

only this time, there was sincerity written on her face, a small smile grazing her features. he’s lived with yae miko for so long but had only ever seen this expression directed towards his mother, it was strange.

”i know dear. i’ve already told ei that you won’t be joining us, so, won’t you let me drive you to where you are running off to instead?” kuni narrowed his eyes at the tall women — what exactly was she up to? she had never offered to drive him anywhere. she was cooking something up, there was no other explanation for her kindness now out of all days.

”hm, fine.” it would save him a couple minutes of stalling and showing up late to the dinner. mostly because he was terrified of seeing you again.

”alright, let’s go then.”

the car ride was quiet, not even music was playing on the radio nor were the windows cracked. kuni felt an itch in his bones, she was planning something and wasn’t budging until the last moment. and not only that but you were probably already in the restaurant, chatting away happily with your roommates, not even knowing he was about to ruin that happiness all over again. his anxiety was starting back up again.

”you’re worried about something.” yae miko pointed out when they parked by a sidewalk near the restaurant. it was like she could read his mind and knew that if she pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant, he might not get out the car and ask to go back home.

“i'm not.” he couldn’t be honest with her. she was married to his mother, the woman who he hated the most in this world. for all he knew, she would just tell ei exactly what he was worried about.

”you were crying last night. i heard you.” yae miko shifted so she was looking at kuni, keeping in mind the fact that kuni hated everything about this talk. she knew him well, even if kuni didn’t want to admit it.

”i wasn’t.”

”if you say so,” yae shrugged, reaching into her purse to grab something. kuni watched out of the corner of his eyes, hands gripping the ends of his short when he saw just what it was that she pulled out. “i thought you might want this though.” she handed kuni a small doll that resembled him, a kind smile resting on her lips.

”i- that’s- why“ 

“you made this when you were younger, remember?” yae let out of a soft laugh, holding the doll out to him. “you always said it was your good luck charm.” what a childish thing for him to have said, but kuni remembers it clear as day and all the memories came flooding back — painful memories.

snatching the mini him from yae miko’s perfectly manicured hands, he gripped the body of the plush doll tightly, staring down at it like his eyes would magically turn into lasers and make it explode. the doll was a perfect reminder of the childhood he had lost.

”just thought you might want it again.” yae miko unlocked the car door, hands returning to rest on the steering wheel as kuni climbed out of the car.

”thank you.” kuni couldn’t offer her anymore words or tears would start falling and she knew that, continuing to plaster that smile on her face even after driving back home.

with a sigh, kuni walked down the sidewalk and to the restaurant. he couldn’t do anything to change whatever outcome awaited him when he walked in. he only hoped that you’d give him the benefit of the doubt and understand this situation wasn’t what he was expecting or planning either. maybe you guys could just ignore the tension and just suck it up until one of you moved out.

nearing the building, kuni glanced at the doll in his hands and sighed. “good luck charm, huh? so childish.” he mumbled to himself and tossed the doll in the trash can, opening the doors up and stepping inside. 

you, on the other hand, were running completely late. having to wait on your professor to go over the latest assignment you had turned in had you antsy. he was taking his sweet time going over everything and you still had to go home, get ready and then drive to the restaurant ajax had picked out. then when the professor finally finished talking, you ran into some friends — ganyu, keqing and ayaka, the three girls going on about how they were going to try out the latest bubble tea shop that opened up and you were dragged into their shenanigans because who could refuse bubble tea?

fast forward to the present time, you had brought up your problem to ayaka and she offered to drive you to the restaurant, ganyu and keqing tagging along just for the ride. you decided it was probably a good idea to text venti and childe that you were running a little late.

you put your phone down in disgust after seeing ajax’s toes on your timeline for the fifth time that week and instead, tuned into the conversation that the other three in the car were engaging in.

”-nd then he said we can rent out the mansion to celebrate!” ayaka beamed from her seat behind the steering wheel, occasionally stealing glances to the backseat where ganyu and keqing were to gauge their reactions while you sat off to her right in the passenger seat.

”celebrate what?” you asked, curious as to what big accomplishment she was talking about.

”y/n!” ayaka mocked fake hurt at your reaction but you could see the smile gracing her lips.

”to celebrate her winning first place in the figure skating competition earlier in the month!” ganyu chimed in behind your seat, poking you playfully in the cheek.

”ah-! yeah, i was so proud of you!” you complimented, giving ayaka your best smile (you would have hugged her but given the circumstances, you didn’t want to crash).

”thank you, y/n.” ayaka was blushing at the praise, making a turn into the parking lot of the restaurant. “of course, you’re all invited!”

”please tell me you won’t invite venti if alcohol will be there-“ keqing was typing something on her phone but still made effort to contribute to the conversation.

”but is it really a party without venti?” you laughed, slinging your bag over your shoulder and leaned over the center console to give ayaka a quick hug. “anyways, thanks for dropping me off! i’ll see you guys later, get home safe! love you!” you blew kisses at your three friends and hopped out, waving to them as they departed and you made your way inside the restaurant.

but before you made it inside, you spotted something familiar and without thinking much, you picked it up, looked closely at it, and then placed it into your bag and walked inside.

you spotted ginger hair and a beret as soon as you entered and knew where your friends were sitting. “ajax! venti!” you called out, a big smile plastered on your face as you walked towards them.

”my darling, y/n~!” venti grinned and slipped out from the booth seat next to ajax, opening his arms up to you for a hug.

you were about to step towards him and return the embrace when you spotted him.

kuni.

”what the fuck are you doing here?” you stepped back, crossing your arms over your chest as you stared at your ex. he seemed to waver underneath your intense glare, playing with his fingers that were neatly folded across the table, glancing between your face and then ajax’s.

”huh? y/n? what's wrong?” venti asked, relaxed expression turned to concern quickly as she noticed your discomfort before looking over her shoulder and back at ajax.

”answer my question.” you spat out but kuni didn’t know what to say and instead sat there with his mouth slightly agape.

”hey, hey-“ ajax stood up, holding his hands out, trying to mimic a barrier between the two of you.

”is this why you asked me about him?” you turned to ajax now, mind clouded with thoughts of your past with kuni. it hurt to remember everything he put you through and here he was, sitting there like it meant nothing.

”what? no, y/n listen-“ 

“fuck this.” you threw your hands up in defeat, walking back towards the front door. if you stayed any longer you’d probably end up making a scene and you didn’t want the poor patrons of the restaurant to be subjected to anymore of your yelling. “fuck you.” you directed the last line towards kuni, he just sat there and took it — didn’t even bother to say anything back to you. it was pathetic to see him look so stunned to see you yelling at him.

but even so, why did your heart beat so fast when the two of you locked eyes just then?

masterlist | prev - next

playlist !

A/N: i jjust solved amurder mystery case with my siblings guys it was the fucking wife. also i really loved writing the part with yae and kuni grrrr i want to make a mini series with them + ei because silly silly luna has ideas DONT MENTION THE EDIT OVER THE WORD PLS I WRITE THESE WHEN IM SLEEP DEPRIVED

TAGLIST [CLOSED]: @machiroll @raideneiari @mariusvonhangme @inlustris-is-slowly-dying @sakiimeo @ferumie @plinkuro @scaraapologist @baelloraa @bubblesmei @lovelyiez @isa-solasun @lazy-sanns @thenightsflower @divinechicha @rxd-iant @elysiasgf @cerisearan @alwaysmentallyill @kaoyamamegami @richxelle @monochromaticelliot @kunikuzushiit @thedumboneforsomereason @lordbugs @osamusswife @useless-potatho @tsuyumbrella @orionicchaos @lxry-chxn @twistedrxses

[jawritter]

Carry On

Chapter 24

Summary: It was just a simple hunt, found on a pie festival. It was supposed to be easy. Something they’d all done one hundred and one times a million. No one could have told Y/N, Dean, and Sam that nothing from that point on would ever be the same again.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader x Sam Winchester

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: PISSSTTTTT!!!! Here be smut! (I know you guys are gonna freak out when you see that warning lol.) 

Due to the graphic nature of this fic, and the fact that it will eventually contain Smut. This fic is an 18 + only fic! If you’re under 18 DO NOT read this fic!

A/N: This fic is beta’d by @kazsrm67​​​​ Thanks so much love! Please do not copy my work! Feedback is golden! I hope you all enjoy this ride with me!

My Mastlist        Series Masterlist

“Dean, come on, the show’s over,” Y/N laughed as she grabbed Dean’s hand and tugged, the lights were just coming back on in the theater, and the music from the credits were still blaring loudly all around the pair of them. Dean hadn’t budged when the rest of the movie goers had stood up when the show had ended, in fact, he sat with his eyes glued to the giant screen. 

Dean gave her a weak smile, and then slowly stood to his feet. He was stalling, she could tell. 

Even though she’d given him strict orders to stay in bed today while she ran her errands, and to not overthink any of this, apparently that’s exactly what he’d spent the day doing. She shouldn’t have been surprised really; Dean was the king of overthinking. 

“You never know,” he said, attempting to keep his voice light. “Sometimes they put shit after the credits are over.”

“I doubt that they have anything after that, that ending pretty much said it all,” Y/N giggled, and Dean shrugged as they shoved their way out of the darkish theater, and into the lighter hallways that lead to the exit doors, causing them both to squint. 

Dean wasted no time however, in rushing the pair of them through the crowded exit, and out into the parking lot, through the drizzling rain, and back into the safety and security of his Baby. Which wasn’t unusual for Dean, and had nothing to do with the fact that they were out in public, or that they were technically on a date; Dean just didn’t like being out in the open like that period. Old hunter paranoia probably. It was just something Dean now did that she thought nothing of. 

He did seem a lot more relaxed once he was back behind the wheel, and turning the key to send warm air filtering through the car. It was oddly still cold this time of year in Kansas. Normally by now they were starting to get the first hints of warmer weather, but it was as if the bitter cold refused to let go this time. 

“You wanna go grab some ice cream before we head home,” Dean offered, she could almost hear the tightness in his voice;  she knew Dean well enough to know that given the opportunity he’d try to exhaust her so that when they got home, she’d be ready to go to bed; without any extracurricular activities. That wasn’t going to help him though. Like it or not, the only way to overcome this irrational fear of his body was to face it head on. 

“Nah, I’m not really in the mood for ice cream,” Y/N deflected easily. “Why don’t we just head back for the night, it’s already almost 10, and most everything in this little town is gonna be closing down shortly anyway.”

She had a point there. Everything around here but the local watering hole, and the movie theater shut down at 9 PM, but she wasn’t about to give him the idea of going to the bar either. She wanted this to happen sober, for the both of them, and given the opportunity, Dean would make sure he was well and drunk beforehand so as to not remember what was to happen next. 

Dean didn’t argue with her as she expected, instead he just turned onto the main road towards home, driving past Winchester’s Auto Repair; over the rain-dampened streets towards home. She could see by the tightness of his chiseled jawline that he was overthinking what was to come, and she needed to break the ice a little, or else he was going to clam up on her any moment, and it would take days for him to open up again. 

“So,” she said, clearing her throat slightly to gain his attention. “When was the last time you’ve been to a movie?”

The question did as it was intended, and took the elder Winchester off guard, causing his brow to furrow as he continued to direct the sleek, black Impala down the empty suburban streets. 

“I think I was seventeen,” he answered after a while. “We’d been on a hunt for a while, and Dad and Bobby were having a tough time tracking down a shapeshifter in town. Sammy and I had been enrolled in the local school, and I met a girl there. She was only a year younger than me. I walked to her house one night, and took her to see a movie. The theater was only three blocks from her house. I don’t even remember what we were going to see, but as I walked into the place, the guy that was standing behind the counter selling popcorn and overpriced drinks eyes flashed white and I knew I found our guy. So, while the movie was playing, I slipped out and shot the shifter in the back of the head… I didn’t even bother going back in to get her, I just walked out, told Dad what I’d done, and we left town. That was it.”

A heaviness settled over Y/N; a suffocating one. It wasn’t fair that a seventeen-year-old boy had to live a life of such horror and violence that he wasn’t even able to take a girl he liked on a date. Then it hit her, the echoes of the past that were etched on his face as a reminder that Dean Winchester was anything but weak. In fact, the man was a killer by nature. He’d been bred and raised to be hard. John’s little soldier. That definitely wasn’t fair, but it made sense why the transition to normalcy wasn’t ever gonna be an easy one. Every time he’d even gotten a taste of what he thought might be normal, it was either ripped away from him by the hand of John Winchester himself, or the life that John had forced Dean to lead. Either way, the fault always seemed to fall to John. Y/N had to agree with Sam about that. 

“I’m sorry Dean, that’s horrible,” Y/N apologized, suddenly afraid that she’d single handedly put a damper on the entire evening and totally regretting that she had asked him anything about his past at all. 

“It’s okay,” Dean assured her as he turned onto their street, a tight smile gracing his face, showing off those eye crinkles that unquestioningly seemed to give her life. They could absolutely chase away any kind of darkness, she was convinced of it. 

“My life might not have been a fucking nineties sitcom sweetheart, but I can say I’ve seen and experienced things, and gone to places that no one else ever would. I don’t regret what I did that night. Hell, just in killing that one shifter, I saved countless other people. So, what if I didn’t get to get my dick wet, or say that I was able to walk the prom queen home from the movies while her ‘boyfriend’ was at home with a horrible case of mono that he contracted from cheating on her with almost every other girl on the cheerleading squad. All that shit is really trivial when I think back on it now, and if I wouldn’t have been where I was and hunting when we met, well, then I don’t think you’d be here sitting next to me right now, sounding like a really old fucking man.”

There was a chuckle in Dean’s voice, and it astounded her that even though his life had been anything but a bed of roses that he was even remotely able to see the bright side of it all. It was a true testament to the character that Dean tried to keep hidden, and definitely the reason that, after everything, he was still here. Still fighting. 

“Well, enough with the heavy,” Dean diverted after a moment, before she could even say anything at all. She was impressed that he’d opened up as much as he had tonight, his past wasn’t something he liked to talk a whole lot about, not that she blamed him. 

“What else you got on that little agenda tonight huh?” Dean questioned, giving her a smirk that could have melted the paint off of a fucking car. 

It was as if she felt the air shift between them, which sent a live wire straight through her veins, and caused her to openly shiver. 

Y/N shrugged, doing her best to play it cool, even though she had Dean Winchester in the flesh, looking at her like he was a predator, and she his prey. Something she had not seen from Dean in a long time, and never directed at her, usually it was at some bar room woman with more boobs than brain. 

That’s when she decided that if this was the way he was comfortable with this game going, then she was going to let him take the lead. Forcing herself to be his girlfriend for once, give him the lead, stop treating him like some child that needed her help with every little fucking thing, and stop being his fucking caregiver. 

“I don’t know,” she played coyly, twisting her hair in her fingers as she forced her eyes away from his piercing green oceans and to look over the expanse of their home instead for full effect. “Maybe I’ll go draw a bath, have some alone time before bed, read a book.”

Dean all but snorted with laughter as he kicked the door open and stepped out, flinging his hair slightly, and she wondered when he’d cut it, because he sure reminded her of Sam when he did that. Not that Dean with long hair and a light beard wasn’t attractive; it fucking was, it was just the little traits she saw of Sam in his older brother…. Or maybe it was the other way around and she never bothered to notice before. 

She watched in silence as Dean shuffled his way around the car, a smirk still firmly planted on his plump, naturally pink lips as he opened her door, and in a gesture older than them both, reached for her hand to help her stand out of the car. 

“I mean, I guess you could do that, it does sound nice,” Dean ventured, closing the car door once she was fully stepped out onto the pavement, before suddenly shifting the pair of them to pin her tiny frame against the cool, somewhat rain-dampened steel of Baby’s exterior; sealing his lips to hers in a breathtaking kiss that drove the cool mist of lightly fallen rain slowly soaking them both clean out of her mind. “Or you can come to bed with me.”

The deepened trimble of his rough voice  vibrated from his solid chest to hers, combined with his warm breath that brushing over her kiss swollen lips in contrast with the nipping wind on her face damn near had her melting at his feet. Her head was swimming with everything that was Dean Winchester, from his broad, thick shoulders, to the taste of his chewing gum still tingling on her lips. Suddenly, she wasn’t sure she could survive this encounter, because the man had barely put a hand on her, and it was already more intoxicating of an experience than she'd ever imagined. 

“I’m pretty sure I like your idea a lot better,” she stammered once she finally got her mind to work in combination with her lips as Dean worked to derail her train of thought by trailing his lips and tongue along her jawline to her ear lobe. 

With a playful nip of her suddenly very sensitive skin, Dean forced himself off of her, lacing his fingers with hers, leading her towards the front door that was illuminated by the warm, glowing porch light they’d left on before leaving home for the evening. 

Neither really paid it all that much attention though. Just as they paid little to no attention to Dean unlocking the front door to let her step inside the warm, safety of home. Nor did either party really register the way Dean tossed their coats haphazardly towards the back of the couch as they made their way towards the stairs to make the assent to their shared room. Both seemed to be suddenly trapped in the surreal fog of the shock that this is going to happen. There was a determination in the squareness of Dean’s shoulders, there was no turning back now. His mind was made up. 

With his face set in an unreadable mask, Dean closed the outside world behind him, and with a flick of his wrist, locked the door. That's when her heart started drumming a fast pace rhythm in her rib cage, and she came face to face with her own fears, insecurities, and anxiety. 

What if she did something wrong? What if she hurt him? What if she was pushing him too fast? What if this is the ultimate mistake that would shatter him?

"Hey," Dean's voice captured her attention, and she was stunned at how close to her he was suddenly standing, allowing his finger to trail over her cheek before pulling her into his warm embrace. "Are you okay?"

Y/N swallowed whatever lump had formed in her vocal chords and nodded, grounding herself in the warmth and stillness of his body holding her against him. 

"I'm okay," Y/N assured him. "I'm more worried about you than myself. I don't want you to feel like we're doing this just because of me."

Dean shook his head before letting go of her long enough to pull off the hunter green Henley he was wearing, and allowed it to fall to the floor. 

"No, I'm just as much into this as you are," he assured her. "Regardless of how this turns out, I want to be close to you, and that's all that matters."

With more urgency and control than Dean had ever shown her before, his lips collided with her own in a battle of teeth and tongue as he slowly walked her towards the bed in the center of the room, clothes falling to the floor as they went, in a shower of panted breaths and pounding hearts until the back of her knees hit the bed, and she crawled her way to the top of the bed with Dean crawling over her, his lips still in pursuit of hers. 

"You're gorgeous sweetheart," he whispered against her lips as they both halted to catch their breath. "I don't tell you that enough." 

"Speak for yourself handsome," she assured him, allowing her fingers to trace the line of freckles that speckled his shoulders. 

Deep, hooded, green orbs traced the line of her face, and worked their way down her bare body before his lips made their descent from her throat, to her breast; taking his time with each nipple until she was writhing underneath the thick frame of him. 

"Dean," she pleaded with him as he began to rut his thick length against her already soaked and throbbing center. The head of his cock pressing against her swollen clit with each pass he made. 

"Goddammit baby girl," Dean breathed, his eyes damn near rolling in their sockets as he continued rutting against her.  "So close already and I've barely touched you. Can you cum for me like this?" 

Her words stuck in her throat somehow as the pressure in her body built until a moan ripped through her body as her vision went white, and her body shook into her release. 

"Fuck," Dean swore as he pressed his cock into her quivering cunt, and she screamed at his intrusion. 

He was massive and long. Dean slowly thrust in and out of her cunt, drawing out her orgasm as long as he could before her body finally started to adjust to him, and he began to set a steady pace. 

Lips found hers in a heated kiss as he started to fuck her in earnest. Pent up frustration and need started to bubble over in a mess of skin, sweat, and groans, as their bodies worked together with one another. Every drag of his impressive manhood sent that same rubber band tightening tighter and tighter as his hips rolled harder and harder, pressing his pelvis into her clit with each calculated thrust until suddenly; he stopped, teeth gritted, and breath caught in his throat as pleasure started to fade into pain.

But she didn't let it faze him, he was doing too well, he was far too close to a much-needed release; so, she hooked her leg around his waist and used the force of her body to turn them over.  The switch distracted him from whatever it was he was feeling, and his eyes rolled back into his head as her hips moved, picking up where he left off. 

As soon as she saw that she wasn't hurting him, she began to ride him in earnest and fuck, she didn't know if she'd ever felt so fucking full in her life. The change in angle increased the friction in the places she needed him most, but as his hips lifted to meet her, thrust for thrust, desperate and chasing his own end in a moaning mess underneath her, she saw stars. Her velvet  walls clamped down hard around his dick, and he exploded inside of her as they came together, both of them riding the wave of bliss until they were an exhausted, trembling mess. 

When she'd come down, she slowly dismounted him, and quickly made her way to the bathroom to clean herself up, and return with a warm cloth to clean Dean up too. 

Heavy green eyes watched in silence until she was done, and he pulled the cover over himself and lifted it for her to join him. 

Suddenly, she was beyond tired, her limbs felt like jello as the adrenalin drained from her body. She found solace in the warmth of his skin against her own, and the steady, calm rise and fall of his chest under her hand. 

"Are you okay?" Y/N questioned, and Dean cleared his throat as her voice stirred him awake from the doze he'd slipped into. 

"Yeah, it didn't hurt like I thought it would. The more we work at it, the more I will learn my limitations and things will get easier, but for now baby rest, don't worry about me, I'm better than I've ever been."

So was she, if she was honest. She was better than she'd been in a long, long time.

Forever:

@bubsonnobx​​​

@britnwinchester​​​​​​​​​​

@samanddeaninatrenchcoat​​​​​​​​​

@wittysunflower

@demongirl1996​​​​​​​​​​  

@as-lost-as-sams-shoe​​​​​​​​​​

@jensenslady79​​​​​​​​​​

@spnwoman​​​​​​​​​​

@stoneyggirl2​​​​​​​​​​

@unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men​​​​​​​​​​

@stixnstripesworld​​​​​​​​​​

@fullwattpadmusictree​​​​​​​​​​

@nancymcl​​​​​​​​​​

@christycreature​​​​​​​​​​

@whiskey-infused-dreams​​​​​​​​​​

@supernatural79impala​​​​​​​​​​

@deandreamernp​​​​​​​​​​

@forgetthisbull​​​​​​​​​​

@miraclesoflove​​​​​​​​​​

@slamminmine​​​​​​​​​​

@deanwanddamons​​​​​​​​​​

@rvgrsbrns​​​​​​​​​​

@chevyharvelle​​​​​​​​​

@i-love-superhero-movies​​​​​​​​​​

@lyss-dw79​​​​​​​​

@magssteenkamp​​​​​​​​​​

@lemondropirwin​​​​​​​​​​

@squirrelnotsam​​​​​​​​​​

@hobby27​​​​​​​​​​

@spnbaby-67​​​​​​​​​​  

@mrsjenniferwinchester​​​​​​​​​​

@defenderrosetyler​​​​​​​​​​

@thecreatiivecorner​​​​​​​​​​  

@vicmc624​​​​​​​​​​

@busy-bee-angel-misska​​​​​​​​​​

@justanotherwinchester​​​​​​​​​

@brilovesdeanwinchester​​​​​​​​​

@idksupernatural​​​​​​​​​​

@lyarr24​​​​​​​​​​

@emoryhemsworth​​​​​​​​​​

@dean-winchesters-gardian-angel​​​​​​​​​​

@flamencodiva​​​​​​​​​​

@itmejado

@thoughts-and-funnies​​​​​​​​​​

@teresa-67​​​​​​​​​​

@hearteyes-j2​​​​​​​​​​

@peaches007​​​​​​​​​​

@bobbie3939​​​​​​​​​​

@vulgar-library​​​​​​​​​​

@writercole​​​​​​​​​​

@fairlyspnfanfic​​​​​​​​​​

@sexyvixen7​​​​​​​​​​

@spngi​​​​​​​​​​

@b3autyfuldisast3r​​​​​​​​​​

@donnaintx​​​​​​​​​​

@maliburenee​​​​​​​​​​

@the-family-business67​​​​​​​​​​

@agirlwithdemonblood​​​​​​​​​​

@captainsoldiergirl​​​​​​​​​​

@twinkleinadiamondsky​​​​​​​​​​

Jensen and Dean’s Babes

@deans-baby-momma​​​​​​​​​​  

@impalaslytherin​​​​​​​​​​

@perpetualabsurdity​​​​​​​​​​

@msmarvelouswinchester​​​​​​​​​​

@akshi8278​​​​​​​​​​

@love-jackles​​​​​​​​​​

@irmcpar​​​​​​​​​​

@pink-sparkly-witch​​​​​​​​​​

@deans-spinster-witchs-favorites​​​​​​​​​​

@herstarburststories​​​​​​​​​​

@mimaria420​​​​​​​​​​

@deanwinchesterswitch​​​​​​​​​​

@charred-angelwings​​​​​​​​​​

@pascal-rascal424​​​​​​​​​​

@myloversgone​​​​​​​​​​

@fortheloveof-jackles​​​​​​​​​​

@eevvvaa​​​​​​​​​​

@bts-spnlvr12​​​​​​​​​​

@jxackles

@lassie-bird​​​​​​​​​​

@samsgirl93​​​​​​​​​​

@shawnie74​​​​​​​​​​  

@kaz11283​​​​​​​​​​

@mlovesstories​​​​​​​​​​

@ladysparks78

@sarahgracej​

[thatonebirdwrites]

This chapter is long. It covers Kara meeting Jack and Sam for the first time. Which means Sam enters the timeline much sooner than in Canon. So readers can chew on that. It also starts Sam's Tale. Meaning we're entering the horror sections. Then we'll dig deeper into what the Superfriends decide to do in the present time to aid our Trio in their healing journey.

I admit, my homelessness experiences played a role in how I wrote Sam's Tale. I did not sugarcoat it.

As always, I have done my best to portray these experiences thoughtfully and well. My end-notes include thoughts, research, and life experiences to help readers better understand DID, C-PTSD, panic, and other heavy topics.

EXCERPT:

Sam Arias makes perhaps the worst decision of her life at age fifteen. A charismatic boy literally sweeps her off her feet at a party, and she learns that sex with boys is not really her jam. It’s not bad. She definitely can be attracted to guys, but the sex is just not that great.

So when over a month later nausea sets in and she misses her period, she starts to panic. She can’t be seen buying a pregnancy test. Her mother is already on her ass for going to the party instead of studying. Perhaps a terrible plan, but she has no recourse. She goes to the store, stuffs the test into her pants, and buys a candy bar. Her first theft and hopefully her last.

The test is positive.

Sam sits in the stall at her high school and stares at the test. She blinks a few times. Closes her eyes and counts to twenty, but each time she looks, it’s definitely positive.

She’s fucked. Majorly fucked.

She rubs her face and wishes she could call Jack, but he’s in England and they’ve only ever written each other since the penpal program matched them. Sometimes she’ll make a mixtape for him, and he’ll send his own. Even though he gave her a number, international charges would have her mother yelling at her for wasting money.

So she calls the only other person she knows might help.

“Yo, Sam, what are you doing calling during school?” Lucy Lane’s voice ripples into her phone. “Isn’t there like rules or something—”

“Luce, I’m pregnant.” Sam puts her face in her hand. The test’s plastic feels cold against her forehead.

“Oh shit.”

Sam isn’t entirely sure what she expects from the friend she’d made at a theater camp. Sam preferred the calculus of the mapping out the set and its measurements to acting. Lucy quickly took her under her wing, and Sam learned she’d ran off with some girl to National City, broke up, and now builds theater sets. Sam isn’t sure if Lucy ever graduated high school or not. Talking of her past isn’t a thing Lucy does.

So okay, maybe she does expect Lucy to pull a ridiculous feat like sneak her off school grounds without anyone catching them.

Sam doesn’t question it. She’s learned better. When Lucy sets her mind on something, she makes it happen, no matter how ridiculous the steps she takes to get there.

The wind sweeps Sam’s curtain of brown hair back, while Lucy shouts ridiculous jokes over the roar of her truck and the loud rap music. Lucy pulls onto the highway entrance ramp, probably way above the speed limit. Sam has no idea where they’re going, but who cares? Her mother is going to kill her when she finds out Sam’s pregnant, so why not take a moment for herself?

Lucy pulls into the Sierra State Park and drives up a narrow road to the mountain peak’s parking lot. She pulls to a stop, cranks up the brake, and turns to Sam. “So, uh, you really are…?”

Sam hands her the test.

“Damn. Was the sex good at least?”

Sam shakes her head.

“Well fuck. That sucks. I’m sorry, girl. Look, there’s a few things we can do.” Lucy taps her driving wheel, nibbles on her lips, then nods. “I’m getting out the beer.” She throws open her door and dives into the bed of her trunk where her cooler always is.

Sam steps out and walks to the edge of the gravel lot. Benches form a train of seats that overlooks a massive cliff. To her left, a trail winds up a rocky expanse to the fairly flat peak. She can see National City in all its glory with the ocean beyond, sparkling in the noon sun.

“Beer or Sprite?”

“Beer but only one.” Sam needs to take the edge off her sizzling nerves.

Lucy hands her a beer and guides her to a bench. She takes a swig and sighs. “So, uh, you got two choices. Abortion or keep it.”

Sam sniffs the beer and wrinkles her nose. “Couldn’t get the good lager?”

“Hey!” Lucy pretends to look affronted. “Best stuff I could buy on my stupid theater salary. Just you wait until I sign up for the Airforce. I’ll come home with the best beer you’ll ever taste.”

Sam hates the idea of Lucy going off to the military, but her friend seems determined to follow in her father’s footsteps. Considering how good she is at hand-to-hand combat already, Sam could see her excelling there, but it hurts. She’s one of Sam’s closest friends. She takes a long swig of the beer and grimaces. “Probably bad for any baby,” she mutters.

“Look, you don’t got to keep it.”

“And what if I do?” Sam snaps.

Lucy holds up her hands, the beer in her left. “Hey, I’m not saying you can’t keep it. But you’re young.”

“And you’re not?”

“I’m two years your elder, thank you very much.” Lucy takes another swig and wipes her mouth on the back of her hand. “Look, I’m just saying being a teenage mother is hard. You sure you wanna sign up for that?”

Sam wants to scream at her shitty luck more than anything else. “How much time do I have to decide?” she says instead.

[fossilizedpr0tienpowder]

Happy new year! Here is the long awaited (and heavily stalled)ghoap partners in crime au fic! It's not much, and for that I apologize, but i do plan on adding to the series.

Soaps' eyes followed flashing red and blue lights as they illuminated the night sky from afar. As he watched police cars race nearby, his lips curled into an amused smirk,“We’ve got company, L.T.” , he informed the man on the other end of the line.

“Nothing we haven’t tackled before, Johnny.” Ghost replied dismissively through a miniature microphone, scrambling to shove copious stacks of money into a standard potato sack. 

Ghost always got slightly ticked off when he and Soap ran into predicaments with the authorities, though he always opted to conceal the way it stuck to the back of his mind. As Ghost ultimately ceased his literal cash grab, he scurried out of the vault from whence he dwelled.

Soap snickered, typing away at a keyboard, his attention split between the security system displayed on his monitors and whichever phase of the plan Ghost was on. 

“Hurry your ass up will ya? I really don’t feel like a police chase today.” He bossed at Ghost. 

A sarcasm lingered in his words as he arrogantly added an audible yawn to close the sentence.

Ghost sighed,“I’ll drive for you once I get to the van, your majesty.” He snapped back, peering around walls and tip-toeing ever so silently towards the building's nearest exit. 

Eventually, Ghost spotted said exit, and approached it with utmost caution and awareness.

“Could use a bit of a hand,-”  Ghost started, before being interrupted by a rather annoyed voice. 

“M’ working on it!” Soap grunted behind gritted teeth and vigorous typing. Ghost knew not to push Soap over the edge, instead choosing to lay off his nagging and trust in Soap's abilities

Sure enough, seconds later Ghost heard a gratifying click which implied an unlocked exit. A smile invited itself onto Ghost’s face. “Thanks, love.”

“Yeah, whatever. Now get the hell outta there before you end up caught!” Soap barked back at his partner.

“Aye, patience!” Ghost chuckled back in response. Rather than earning himself a teasing response, he instead fell victim to the silent treatment from a fed-up Soap.

Ghost evidently took the hint and bolted through the bank door, the sweet absence of alarm sirens like music to his ears. 

Ghost ran through many dimly lit and empty streets, as well as countless sketchy alleyways, skimming the city all while keeping a relatively low profile. 

“Where are you at? Stop tryna hide from me, Johnny.” Ghost whispered through the microphone.

“Turn around, idiot.” Soap sighed.

Ghost felt rather idiotic indeed as he spun around, only to find a suspicious looking white van tucked neatly into a corner of the very alley he stood dumbfounded in. 

“...ahem- Well, there you are.” Ghost rushed into the van, lifting his mask and chucking the bag of stolen money in the vehicle just complimentary to opening the door. “Mission complete?” He asked with an anticipatory smile. 

Soap squinted, scanning Ghost up and down. “Stop worrying so fuckin’ much, L.T. We didn’t get caught. So the cops made an appearance? Not the end of the world, eh?” 

Ghost frowned, Soap’s ability to see through him was an annoying trait to tackle at times. “Bullshit. If I was only quicker this wouldn’t have happened-”

Soap got up from his seat, grabbing Soap’s face with a single hand and a firm grip, forcing Ghost to look him dead in the eye. “Shut up, will ya? God you’re such a tight ass. You do realize you’re one of the most wanted men alive? Stop being such a damn bully to yourself. You got the job done, you always do. And you do it damn well.” 

Soap grinned, “Are we clear?”

Bewildered, Ghost simply nodded. It was all he could manage. Otherwise he knew he’d earn himself an earful from his annoyingly devoted partner. I don't have an @ list yet but these are some people who i feel I owe it to; @a-man-of-questionable-morals @axelaxolotl09 @queermentaldisaster @bringinsexybackk69

[venusorbits]

DOUBLE TAKE | CHAPTER TWO

pairing ; cho gue sung ( 조규성 ) x female! supermodel! british-asian! reader

summary ; You have been invited once again to the Korean TV programme 'I Live Alone' alongside the World Cup Heartthrob, Cho Gue Sung ( 조규성 ). Simple guests, who had to take double takes from each other, who could have seen it coming? No one was. Certainly, neither were the both of you.

genre ; romance, fluff, established relationship ( by second chapter cause i hate writing slow burn, i like reading them though ), angst.

masterlist

❝When you put your arms around me, you let me know there’s nothing in this world I can’t do❞

How did it all begin? Well, you know it all too well, like the back of your hand. You could write a whole novel about it and you could confidently recite word for word if someone dared ask you to, that's how well you know your story. From the dialogue. The finer details even.

Clammy hands. Anxious heart. Teeth gnashing on your lips. You waited patiently outside the restaurant where you agreed to meet, you stood despite the harsh winds and cold nipping your face. He was nowhere to be seen yet. Of course, he wouldn't be. You showed up almost half an hour before the set time, you were that nervous.

You want to leave a remarkable impression, but you're afraid that you'll be too lax and end up being extremely late, he'll be the one who’ll end up waiting for what will feel like endless hours in this weather.

Gue Sung calls out your name as he spots you in the midst of sprinkling soft snow. In his hand was a floral bouquet, unique impressive unique and special soft petaled blooms of tulips displayed, from baby pinks to almost an off-white colour tied together in a flushed salmon silk ribbon, multi-layered in rich waves of elegant thin veiled tissue paper to pattern flower wrapping paper. 

You stood stiffly, stunned. So was he. Well, perhaps it wasn’t only you who apparently felt extremely on edge.

“Hey. You’re early.” You state. Voice shaky. Tugging on the sleeves of your beige trench coat.

“I could say the same thing about you.” Gue Sung hands you the flowers which you gratefully take from him. He nudges his arm out for you silently for you to take, flustered, lacing and locking arms with him, “Let’s go?”

The date went well; it was a romantic candlelit dinner, candles burned brightly in the middle of the table, and a live band softly played jazz music aiding with the rather intimate setting. Couples were on a date and some perhaps celebrated their many years together.

That night nothing but joyous and cheeks strained from grinning the whole night. You eased up a lot more as jokes were thrown, the conversation flowed smoothly, and there was never a moment where you found yourself in an awkward silence where it resorted to awkward staring with some uncomfortable tight-lipped smile. Nursing the glass of red wine instead of trying to engage in some poor attempt at a meaningful conversation.

No, it felt like the hours you spent were mere minutes. Cut too short. 

Gue Sung was charming. Funny. Everything about his personality glimmered. It poured out like liquid gold. The way, he intensely bore into your eyes, like he was exploring and lost in the faraway galaxy. God, nothing else was sexier in a man than looking at you like you were the only person that existed. 

No questions asked, a second date came around.

Christmas Market. It seems like a good idea and quite romantic, if you might say, you get the chance to walk around and chat. Enjoy each other’s company while staying cosy with a cup of hot chocolate in hand. Still, you aren’t entirely sure as to why celebrating Christmas with a lover is romantic… Perhaps to some, this was the countdown to a new beginning. Something of looking forward to the unforeseen future together? You don’t know. Maybe it’s something you’ll be looking at too

“I don’t think I can finish it all.” You mumbled, eyeing the stall, the sweet aroma of the chocolate wafting. The holiday season didn't cut short; decked out fresh pine trees with luminous colourful lights, mosaic-like Christmas baubles, the mixtures of greens and reds, and peppermint candies. It was Christmas paradise.

“You can take a sip out of mine.” Gue Sung offers as he absentmindedly brushes your strayed hair and tucks it behind your hair, adjusting the neatly folded scarf around your neck ensuring you're all toasty warm.

“You sure?” He nods.

The sweet hot chocolatey beverage kept your hands pleasantly warm from the harsh chilly wintry blow of the wind. The tip of your nose was slightly numb from it. Slowly you take slow sips, the warmth engulfing your throat. Gue Sung was staring at you dreamily like you were stars that dusted the empty midnight skies, you were glimmering, the little scrunch of your nose and eyebrows, a satisfied hum that escaped your lips. It was indescribably adorable.

It felt comfortable, you shared laughter and joys together.

Gue Sung’s reassurance and confidence had you convinced at least he had some knowledge or could hold himself upright on the slippery ice. But here it is, the World Cup Heartthrob clinging onto the side railing of the ice rink. Legs shaking.

You stood aside watching him, bemused by the current phenomenon happening before your eyes. Onlookers watch on and he shoots them all an awkward tight-lipped smile.

“You, okay?”

Gue Sung gave you a stiff nod waving his hand, he notices the abundance of people piling up behind him, who also happen to have the same idea as the man, albeit… They were far better than him. They simply were using the guard rail as some sort of support. You held your hand out, he reaches out for it desperately as he struggled to keep himself upright, almost even falling backwards, as he slowly skidded towards you. 

You were nothing but entertained, he was like a newborn fawn just born to the world learning how to walk for the first time with the way he was stumbling.

“This is funny.” You lightly chuckled.

“No, it’s not.” He huffs, feigning annoyance, although keeping the little playful grin on his lips, keeping it light-hearted.

“It is, you have to admit.” You poke his arm.

“Fine. It is a little funny.” Gue Sung raises his white flag of surrender followed by a little shrug of his shoulder.

You back away slightly though still keeping a tight grip on his hand. Oh, how much you’ll reach for it.

How much you’ll pay for time to stop. It seems like that every time spent time together goes by, hours turn to seconds, and time always flies by. It all came in flashes like reels of movies, but you could still put pieces together, printed polaroid photos that decorated the walls of your mind. He was the best part and the highlights of your favourite film playing before you. 

"Do you want to come in?" It was a simple question that may be. A simple question that has snowballed into a new beginning, leaving unforgettable trails of you and him. May it be the smallest things, but they remind you of you and him.

Heaven has decided your faith for you, and nothing can stop it now. 

Gue Sung was someone you could lean on, during your highs and lows. From your insecurities, the ugly demons of doubt, the intense fears; so terrified you were. You felt that the best thing could just crumble into pieces, evaporate into nothing, and disappear before your eyes. Any possibilities that could just put this relationship to an end. He could just get up and walk away from you.

And worse of all, you’ll have nothing to blame but yourself, when shit hits the fan, you fanned the flames and blew up things out of proportion. You’re the one who burning this whole thing down. You hate it.

“I’m sorry, I’m hurting you. Please don’t go.” You clung onto what felt like the flimsiest string, the only thing that connected you to him, “I’m sorry. I’m letting my head get to me.”

It’s like you were scrambling to clumsily patch everything together, like floodgates that become completely unstoppable,

“It’s all my fault.” You were trying to keep yourself composed but, if you were being honest, you were on the verge of tears. If you cry, it’ll feel like you were guilting him into admission when you were the one to pin the blame to, “I’ll be better. Please stay with me.”

It’s written all over his face, you broke him.

He sighs. You were certain he was going to shrug on his coat, slip on his shoes and gather all his things. You’ll have to embrace the end of what’s between you.

“Come here.” He beckons you over into his arms pulling you right up against his chest and burying your face in the crook of his neck. You held onto him as he would just slip away from your fingertips. Tears soaking on his shoulder, “Why are you thinking that way?”

Gue Sung stands up straight, prying off his shoulder, cradling your face in the palm of his hands as the pads of his thumbs wipe away the strayed tears. He whispers almost painfully. Looking at him, you could see the cracks of wounds from your venomous words.

“You know, I’m all yours. You know, how much I love you. I’m still here and I’m here to say.”

Love wasn’t burning red as you had thought, it was glowing like the golden sunrise.

You start to appreciate the little things about love and relationships. Grand gestures seemed to get a little boring, it almost felt like a showcase; little gestures that included his morning coffee while his wild hair sticking in all kinds of directions while the essence of sleep was still in his eyes, driving you into your photoshoot set, spending your time a little longer in bed talking about mundane things, legs all tangled together, the simple rush of butterflies tickling your stomach and rushing when you see him. You’d get giddy when you see his gorgeous face amongst the crowd.

When you’re drunk on that love; you start to see differently, like you are always wearing these rose-tinted lenses and it felt like a dream. Like starry stars fell into his face that you like to place pecks. When he leans on your shoulder every so softly as he sighs away his exhaustion, there’s a silent agreement, where he seeks your solace and affection in the touch of your hand. Simply cupping his face had him melting under your touch. In a quiet room yet words are spoken.

The saxophone rendition of ‘La Vie En Rose’ plays on the radio; you sway along so gently, with you engulfed safely in his arms. As your window overlooks the shimmering city, up and down of it all, you’d still worship this love even if it’s a false God.

[http-paprika]

Peppers / Alejandro Vargas

pairing alejandro vargas x female!reader / wc 905 / warnings allusions to suggestive content, definitely not a healthy relationship, they talk shit to each other.

summery all he was supposed to be doing was clearing his head, but alejandro ends up getting more than he asked for when an old flame returns to las almas.

notes third poll fanfiction, and second fanfic of the day, done. also, there's no use of y/n and the female insert is from las almas so she's mexican. i threw in a bit of spanish words, but in reality their entire conversations are in spanish, i just wanted to highlight key phrases. also, shout of to sgt. pepper's lonely hearts club band which was the music i listened to whilst i wrote this.

⋆★⋆ ════ ⋆★⋆ ════ ⋆★⋆ ════ ⋆★⋆ ════ ⋆★⋆ ════ ⋆★⋆ ════ ⋆★⋆

The summer sun beat hot against his head as Alejandro slipped through the busy street, ignoring the shouting street vendors, savoring the smell of food cooking along the street. He kept his gaze down, head low to avoid unnecessary conflicts. He was a man with a reputation in his hometown, hated, loved, indifferent. And all Alejandro wanted, was to enjoy his momentary solitude before he’d have to return to the base and continue to tirelessly work, following wasteful leads in search of El Sin Nombre, Valeria, who had disappeared from Las Almas. But her power, influence, and drugs still funneled into his town, and rumors had begun to bubble up that she had found an heir to take up her place in Las Almas. The thought made him boil with frustration and rage, and he needed to focus on moving his feet forward instead of thinking about her.

Looking up from the stones under his feet, another woman catches his eye as he stands on the edge of the busy square, a familiar beautiful face, with a smile and dazzling eyes that even meters away caused Alejandro to stop in his tracks. A haunting phantom who’d left Las Almas years before, a girl he thought he’d never face again. His flaw, his undoing. She still shone brightly like a star as he watched her gossip quickly with the owner of the stall she was standing in front of. As if his body had turned into lead, Alejandro couldn’t get away quick enough, heat rising in his cheeks as she turned and spotted him trying to break away, gazing at him from under those dark lashes. She stood there like a magnet, pulling him in against his will, she’d only grown more alluring since she’d left, with a figure his hands ached to touch and lips he unnervingly wished to kiss. Death disguised as the prettiest woman in all of Mexico. 

“Senorita, welcome back to Las Almas.” Alejandro forced himself to stay curt, holding his tongue back from saying what he thought. She placed her hands on her hips, taking him in now that he stood there in front of her. “Little early for Dia de las Muertos, don’t you think?” 

“Very funny, Alejandro.” She responded, rolling her eyes and making his throat dry up. He felt foolish to think she would’ve called him by the name she’d given him years before, though he was surprised she acknowledged him at all. Considering their violent, colossal past, Alejandro expected her to maim him there on the street for everyone to see. “I see you haven’t changed since I left.” 

“Can’t say that you have either.” He says, a devious smirk painted her face as she turned back to the street vendor and paid for the fresh produce she’d picked out. He eyed the assortment of peppers and greens, clicking his tongue. “So, the cat finally dragged the rat back in?” 

Her eyes flickered briefly with anger but ignored his remark even if she knew she’d have to give him a response eventually. “I grew bored of the South. The men there were worse than dogs.” 

Alejandro scoffs but finds himself following her through the street market, under the colorful banners, and past the church. “Because you’re so much better? El serpiente. You and the rest of your team.” 

“Do you plan on spending the rest of your life harassing me over that, Alejandro? Because it wasn’t that big of a deal, and it’s sad to see you losing your mind that.” She rolls her eyes, her knuckles grazing his from how close the two were. It was intoxicating for him to walk so close to her, like the richest alcohol that he’d ever tasted. She’d left him wasted before, and Alejandro knew if he gave her the chance, she’d do it again, sinking her teeth and nails into him. 

“I’m not losing my mind–” He says through gritted teeth, realizing that his reactions were just feeding her ego. Alejandro could see it swelling up inside of her, eyes burning with hunger, waiting for him to burst. 

“Then why are you following me to my home? Don’t you have a job to do? Shouldn’t you be off playing vaqueros?” She’d always had a talent for taunting, a feverish desire to watch people squirm and shout. It plagued him, causing poison to seep into his veins, and with folly, Alejandro didn’t fight back. They stopped on the uneven steps, in front of a blue house with veins clinging to the walls. Unknowingly, he’d followed her back to her home, just like he used to in the barracks when he was younger. He could already hear the scoldings he’d received from his second command and ignored the internal sirens and alarms as she unlocked the door. 

“I have time to kill.” Those five simple words did him in, an old passion heating his insides and bubbling in his stomach. A wiser man would’ve left, and never given her a second thought. But he disregarded all logic and followed her inside, locking the door behind. His mouth began to water as he watched her in the dim light, she put her things down, kicking off her shoes as Alejandro closed the gap between them, hands finding solace on her hips and his mouth crashing down against hers. She tasted just like he remembered, sweet and spicy just like fresh peppers.

[divinekangaroo]

WIP: a honeymoon fic teaser for @deliciousnutcomputer for such patience :)

tommy x lizzie; drinking/inebriation, friction, very unreliable (drunk) narrator XD

(it might not seem it but this one will have the most terribly sweet ending i can possibly imagine)

Day 1:

5:00 PM: Arrive at Victoria Embankment in London to board the Orient Express. 6:00 PM: Departure from London towards Dover. Enjoy dinner in the dining car. Socialise in the lounge and bar cars.  Live music and conversation. Admire the passing countryside and towns as the train continues its journey. During the evening, compartments will be prepared for sleeping with the seating converted into luxury beds.

*

‘There’s fingerprints.’

Lizzie looked up from her plate. Quail at perfect moistness, green peppercorn. Some kind of broccoli sliced into the thinnest of curls, transparent as if green glass, or a museum’s pressed dissection of a small tree. Never particularly been intrigued by the idea of matching wine to meal, one of those things the upper classes pretended was real but wasn’t just to create another barrier, Lizzie learned otherwise: something about the way the white wine, selected for her meal especially, that made everything taste so much better. Hadn’t been the first sip, but layered, as if taste was something that could build over time, acquired, and she was in the thick of complementary layered bliss on her tongue right now. 

The green-eyed sommelier explained it to her with a masculine grace and an attention she’d felt warmly gratified by, as he’d seemed to recognise instantly Tommy wouldn’t pay attention, and instead poured his French-accented charm onto her instead. She’d listened, rapt, and drank everything he gave her.

As if giving a toast, Tommy raised his tumbler to the burnished chandeliers that gave the dining car such atmosphere, frowning.

‘See?  Fingerprints.’

‘Are they your fingerprints?’

‘Course they’re not mine. Look, there’s specks of dirt in this glass.’

‘Tommy.’

Now he was sniffing the contents. ‘Is this scotch? Taste it for me. They’ve given me scotch. In someone else’s fucking unwashed glass.’

‘Can you please get your glass out of my face—’

‘Where’s this bar car? I’m not taking this.’

How was she supposed to know if he didn’t? ‘Given there’s only two directions you could possibly go, I’m sure you’ll find it.’

Tommy gave her an unreadable look, untucked his chair, and stalked out the back end of the dining car, holding the glass out as if it was some dripping bloody organ. Then he hit his shoulder on the doorframe as he passed and paused to glare at it.  

Lizzie looked at her plate to avoid seeing if he'd start a fight with mostly inanimate architecture. She ate another careful mouthful of quail with a slice of broccoli folded onto the gold fork by way of the gold knife. There were still three forks and three knives on the table next to her plate, and three spoons in different sizes arranged at the top of the gold-rimmed plate. She assumed one set had been for the prawn thing in the glasses Tommy waved away before the waiters could approach their table, which she forgave because a disgust for shellfish couldn’t be argued with; another for the soup course he’d looked at and sent back without checking with her, which she didn’t forgive when she’d not even the chance to see what it was. But she wasn’t sure about the final cutlery set because it wasn’t meant for dessert, was it?  

She'd lost her taste for sweet things, anyway. Now she would never know.

Five minutes later, Tommy crossed through again to exit to the front of the car, still holding the offending glass, giving her a passing frown.

Lizzie looked at his plate, steak with the slightest blush of pink at the centre; she could tell because he’d sliced it thin as the broccoli, precisely, end to end, complaining it wasn’t cooked through, didn’t they know uncooked meat gave people worms or worse, he’d had better from a gutted squirrel at a fucking street stall grilled over charcoal on a stick. He’d pushed all the potatoes off the plate in the process of his slicing, exactly like Charlie at his petulant worst, staining the tablecloth.  

Having drained her glass of impeccably selected white wine staring at his plate, Lizzie waved the waiter over to fill her up again. The couple at the table next to her looked at her, not exactly aghast, but politely puzzled. Possibly you weren’t supposed to click repeatedly at a waiter like that in first class. Possibly you weren’t supposed to even call them. Maybe it was all done through some strange set of social signals no one was allowed to explain, because you had to be born into it. 

No one seemed to stare at Tommy like that no matter what he did, though, so men must have a free pass. Either that or he’d found a better book of etiquette than she ever had and not deigned to share.

‘You might as well leave the bottle. Are you allowed to do that?’

‘Of course, madam.’

‘Ta. Thank you, I mean. Thank you.’

‘At your service, madam.’ From the cow-eyes, he looked like he wanted to kiss the back of her hand. Surely that wasn’t reasonable? Lizzie looked away, slightly disturbed, and the couple at the table across offered her near-identical conciliatory smiles, sweetly, which made her realise they weren’t a couple but rather brother and sister, and that was perhaps an invitation to participate in some of that much lauded social conversation listed on their itinerary.

In the corner of the car, on a small elevated triangular stage, a trio of young violinists set up quietly. Two women with hair piled high in identical crowns-of-braids and one man, dark skinned.  At some unseen cue, they all began to play, ethereal and compelling. Lizzie thought distantly of Charlie’s practice, wondered if he’d keep his attention on it long enough to become this good.  Violins were amazing instruments. Having mostly filled her days and a good few nights of marriage so far with various entertainments now available to her, including orchestral performances, Lizzie had decided violins might be her favourite. Not just because of Charlie, but because even his faltering practice made the instrument sound almost human in some way, even if with him it was more crying than singing. Now, in the hands of masters, the instruments pulled her into another place where baby new potatoes weren’t rocking gently on the tablecloth with the motion of the train.

Frisson, that’s what it was. Lifting her from the mundanity of having endured without comment the now hours-long litany of Mr Thomas Shelby’s complaints of raw steak and dirty glasses and the station queues and the traffic on the way in and how could she forget her fucking passport all while pretending he hadn’t forgotten his and the stupid imperfect and fundamentally flawed itinerary the latest useless office lackey put together for this whole affair, the crammed luggage and the lack of information on the weather that would be awaiting them so they couldn’t even pack clothes properly as if he'd ever wear anything other than a bloody three-piece in public and the time this would take away from important business and she’d better be happy and why France, Lizzie, why fucking France, when he’d been the one who picked it—

Nothing was left in the bottle. Lizzie realised it was late enough the car was nearly empty, offending plate and potatoes cleared, and she was almost liquid in her chair, suddenly conscious of how she must look. Eyes half-lidded, face soft, listening and looking, free hand curled at her chest as if wounded, and a total degradation of posture.

The young violinist caught Lizzie’s eye and winked at her, inclined his head so briefly towards the rear end of the car. A lifted eyebrow, in enquiry and offering. He put an extra little effort into his bow arm, the tilt of his chin, and held her eye in a particularly meaningful way.

‘Do you want to fuck me,’ Lizzie asked the empty chair opposite her, jarring and vicious and in her poshest attempt at the King’s English.

The chair didn’t answer.

Then she went to find the bar car or her bed, whatever showed up first in the grand linear journey that was navigating a train where apparently everyone except for her husband actually did, in fact, want to fuck her, blaming her sway and the nearly-rolled ankle along the way on the motion of the carriage.

[kintsug1kitsune]

battle in the low market

The lower-city market was dark even given the world's eternal night.

Concrete pavement meshed with cobblestone and brick, messy walkways twisting through the depths of the city, which towered all overhead, bridges and highways and towers and skyscrapers, all netted together in a neon-lit, hologram-strewn tangle.

Down here, only simple streetlights lit-up the darkness, but still many crowded about, all walks of life come to this gray place to find uncommon and illicit wares. Neverborn beside dolls beside hollows, reapers and Daughters and wildborn, those with wolf heads and animal parts.

I came to this bazaar for a particular type of ether, distilled shatter, a liquid emanation useful in my Mistress's more destructive spells. I hardly dressed-up, a lacy combat thread crop-top and shorts, dangling with knives and sewn with intricate lunar designs. My six arms were free to fiddle with each other as I perused various stalls, searching for my quarry--

And finding a different objective altogether.

My tail whipped the air twice, long and porcelain-plated and sharp-edged, and my five eyes locked with another combat doll's set of two. My rubies to its sapphires. But that was negligible--what actually stood-out was the musical notes printed across its cheek, the symbol of the Witch of Winds. The two of us recognized each other, me from its mark and it from the etchings and paint of cherry blossoms and flowers across my right side and arm.

We chattered in combat-dollspeak, a sharp and cutting dialect that nonetheless rhymed and twisted and chittered beautifully in our language.

"Target found," I said, stalking towards the other.

"Received. Target found," it said, lumbering towards me. It was taller than me, 215 centimeters to my 190, and built thick, strong, tree-like arms and legs made of fine ceramith, ablative porcelain like me. Mine alabaster-white, its own a bluish color, covered by a long white combat dress.

I looked up to it, about a half-meter away, and we eyed each other, taking one another's measure. "Identify," I asked.

"This one is the Wallbreaker," it responded; a title, something storied combat dolls kept among themselves, earned from high deeds. "Identify."

"This one is the Ashveil," I answered. "Confirm threat."

"Confirmed."

We began circling one another, my tail caressing the air, its built-in organ pipes whistling as it flexed its heavy fingers. The market crowd began clearing out a circle for us, everyone looking in on the combat dolls squaring-up, muttering amongst each other, taking bets; it was a gritty enough part of town that no shops closed-up, but instead their keepers watched on.

"That one's Witch is enemy to this one's," I hissed to my opponent, raising my hands into a lax combat stance, top two arms on defense, lower sets open with their voidkrystal claws extended, glowing magenta softly. "This one will prove Her superiority."

"Received," Wallbreaker answered, and smirked, jaw splitting along its cheeks to show a gaping maw of ritesteel fangs. "That one will fail."

In a split second it dashed at me, throwing its arm at my face, a column of battle-ready ceramith--I batted it aside and followed-up, punching at its chest with all three of my right-side hands.

In a core-tick it rose its leg and clenched its other arm down, forming a wall that my fists bounced off of, porcelain clattering against porcelain--then Wallbreaker swung around its ramming arm to try to catch me from behind, reaching around my back.

My eyes caught it, and I felt all my gears click perfectly into place, pistons sliding within me as I ducked the blow--then my enemy's knee came to strike my face; I crossed all of my arms and blocked the hit, sliding back across the pavement but keeping firm.

But Wallbreaker pressed, charging at me again to ram me with its whole body--I leaped to the side, dancing around it, and we ended up a few meters apart, staring each other down again.

"Form 01," I commented, "Classic style." And without warning, I jumped--my legs hissed through the air and battered Wallbreaker with a flurry of flying kicks, all blocked; I fell to the ground, pivoted, and jumped straight up with my leg extended, slipping under its guard and smashing it in the chin, sending the other combat doll reeling back.

In the same motion, I spread my wings and took to the sky, sharp and silvery feathers around spell circles--without stopping, I drove an assault into the enemy with my legs, whirling through the air and kicking, slashing at it with my sharp high-heels.

As I rebounded off it, Wallbreaker stared up at me and hissed. "Killing Rapture? That one has trained with angels."

"Received. False," I hissed back, "It has killed enough angels to learn the style."

No more talk--the other doll crouched and flung itself up, boosters in its feet propelling it into the air to try and piledrive me out of it; I easily flitted back and dodged, but as Wallbreaker fell, it wheeled around and out of its wrist shot a bundle of taut metal cables--they wrapped my legs and yanked, hard.

The wind whistled in my horns as I crashed to the ground, leaving a web of cracks in the pavement and none in me. Across, Wallbreaker landed, hitting the stone with a thud--I was still tangled. Thinking fast, I channeled witchfire from my core and melted out of the cables, instantly springing to my feet.

Just in time--my opponent was howling, jaw split and gaping wide to devour me as it charged; it tried to hammer down on my head, I weaved aside, and it grabbed my top-right arm.

I grabbed its own right arm with my top-left and let loose the claws on my two lower-right sets--and drove them into Wallbreaker's side, tearing apart blued ceramith with voidkrystal sharper than diamond.

It shrieked briefly and rose its leg--stomped it down, trying to break my foot. I slid out of the way, still holding its right wrist, and went to dig my lower-left sets of claws into its other side.

But Wallbreaker had none of it and suddenly slammed its head into mine, getting a wild scream from the crowd watching--I was undeterred. My jaw split, three-way, and I bit at my enemy--it bit back, a gnashing of metal fangs as our heads wove around each other, bodies tangled together, grappling close.

Abruptly, I whipped my head and slammed my horns into Wallbreaker's head, sending it reeling--this was my chance! I threw myself forwards, gears shrieking, and shoved all six of my fists into its frame--chained the move into a roundhouse-kick, and spun, slashing across it with my tail, throwing it to the ground and leaving a massive gash across its porcelain.

I looked down at my defeated foe. "Breaking Demon Hand," I explained. "This one learned it from neverborn pirates."

Wallbreaker lay on stony ground, organ pipes hissing weakly. "…This one learned it from its siblings. This one yields to retreat. Disengaging."

"Disengaging," I answered, giving a chitter. "Good fight."

The crowd rattled amongst itself, bets cashed-in, as I walked off into it, folding my wings back into my body. Now, where could I find some shatter…?

[donnetellotheturtle]

Chapter 2

The fire kingdom

Elio was about a weeks ride away on donkey. The one thing Varian hadn’t expected was that it was so lonely. There were travelers and merchants on the road sure but no conversation lasted more than a couple minutes and being from Corona, he was unused to not being able to speak to the nearest person for at least an hour or two. It made him feel more isolated than he expected.

On the evening before he made it to Elio, he sat by a small fire, eating. Ruddinger munched on a piece of bread besides him as he fingered through his moms journal. Her research was enticing and it felt as if he was getting to know her through it. She had a way of describing things that made it sound so exciting.

“so apparently the first totem is in a volcano! But Elio has a bunch of them….which one would it be...”

He pulled out his own journal, making his own notes and theories on the totems.

~

“Hes going to look for the library.” Hugo reported as soon as he got into the tent.

“Hm…that means he’ll be heading to Elio first. Follow him, and get the relic first.”

Hugo nodded. “Yes ma’am.”

~

Varian woke up early to get to the kingdoms gates as soon as possible. It was very hot here. He guessed that was because of the volcanoes decorating the mountain peaks.

The gates were lavish and gigantic, the middle decorated with the symbol of Elio. As he came upon it his eyes drifted to the blown glass and obvious blacksmithery in the gate and in the walls.

“woah…”

“State your business.” On of the guards said.

Varian smiled. “Just here to see the city!”

The guard looked at him, then nodded at the other guard. “You from Corona?”

“Yes sirs. How could you tell?”

“Your bag…can we take a look at your caravan? Have to make sure you’re not smuggling anything.”

Varian nodded, and the process ended fairly quickly. He was let into the city. It was beautiful. The ground was covered with red rocks, there were houses with sliding doors, most of them were open and he saw kids some running around with ribbons and playing with toys that looked like dragons, foxes, tigers, qs well as kites. He saw a person playing a Huluqin. He listened to the music and heard people yelling out from stalls about the fresh food that was there.

“First things first guys…find a place to stay…”

He hopped off Prometheus and led him to a stable, paying the keeper a few coins for the night. He grabbed his bag from the caravan and walked out into the street. He looked through his moms journal, trying to figure out where to start.

Then there was a yell, screaming, and something whizzed behind him. He yelled out in surprise, turning quickly to where he heard the crash.

Sitting in the wreckage of what used to be a cabbage stand, was a small boy, around the age of 14, with almond eyes, black hair, and he was a bit chubby. But the most important thing he noticed was the fact that part of the kids shirt was still on fire.

“Holy…” He ran and started patting out the fire. “kid, you okay?”

He gave a weak thumbs up, clearly dazed by the impact.

He looked to the side where he saw what looked like a dragon puppet. Only it had pyrotechnics and a seat inside.

“What were you doing?”

The kid shook his head and stood up. “I was trying to make a flying dragon!”

Varian blinked. “uh huh”

“But instead of blasting off, it just blasted me…off of it.”

Varian sighed softly, rubbing his forehead. “kid you could have killed yourself!”

“you sound like my mom!”

“Well maybe shes….right.” Varian was having serious Daja Vu from this. “Huh…”

The kid was already over the dragon again. “Hm what went wrong…”

Varian then saw that there was still a fire. And it was going to hit the kid straight in the face.

“Hey get away from there!” Varian opened a corked bottle from his belt and threw it just as the explosion was about to go off. He pulled the kid out of the way as a bubble quickly encased it. A small crowd gathered to see the commotion.

The kid looked at him with wonder. “Wow…that was cool.”

Varian chuckled.

“MY CABBAGES!”

The kid chuckled nervously.

After everything was sorted out, Varian and him walked along the street.

“So, that was Alchemy?” He asked.

“Uh yeah. Look kid-“

“that’s awesome. I can’t make stuff, I’m usually just the kid who blows everything up…litteraly.”

“I don’t-“

“where did you learn to do that?”

“I taught myself. Now ki-“

“Wow! You’re so good at it I also taught myself.”

Varian sighed, looking at him.

“I’m Yong.” He said cheerfully, holding out a hand.

“….Varian.” He shook the boys hand. “You can’t be so reckless. Somebody could get hurt.”

“But you were here!” Yong said. “So maybe you could teach me not to make things blow up?”

Varian looked at Yong, then sighed. “I don’t know how long I’ll be here. I just have to find what I’m looking for and get going.”

“Ooh! What are you looking for?”

“None of your business, kid.”

“But I can help! No one knows Elio better than me.”

Varian paused, then sighed. “Alright. On one condition.”

“anything.”

“No explosives.”

Yong looked at the pack of fireworks on his hip, and sighed sadly.

A couple minutes later, the two sat on Yongs porch. Explosives carefully put away under the boys bed. Varian opened his moms book.

“So the place I’m looking for is in a volcano…but there’s three around here. Where to start?”

Yong looked at the book. “that’s the northern one. Id recognize it anywhere…it’s been dormant for years though.”

“Dormant?”

“All the lava is so far below the surface that no one’s concerned that it’s going to erupt any time soon. We learn about them in school. We even take field trips up to the top sometimes.”

Varian thought to himself. “hm. Can you take me there?”

“Yeah! I’ll pack some lunch!”

Varian chuckled. As Yong ran off, he couldn’t help but think of how much the kid reminded him of himself. For better or worse. He followed Yong inside.

He stood in the kitchen as Yong packed some food for them both.

“Hey where’s your parents?”

“Oh they’re at work! They wont be home until waaay after we get back.”

Varian nodded. “Okay…would they be okay with you being gone?”

“they won’t even know!”

“that doesn’t feel great.”

Yong shrugged and wrapped up the food, putting them into bags and putting them in his backpack. “Come on let’s go!”

Varian sighed, hoping he wouldn’t regret bringing Yong along.

It was 3 when they finally reached the volcano. They were loosing daylight faster that Varian would have liked.

“So, how do we get in?”

“Oh that’s easy! There’s a man made entrance!”

He followed Yong to the entrance where there was a person at a stand, fast asleep on their hand. There was a gate that he could easily leap over, but he figured the easiest way was paying the way in. Even with his few coin.

“Uh…excuse me?”

The person snored awake, nearly falling over. Then they looked at Varian, and sighed. “What?”

“Um…me and my friend would like to enter?”

The person nodded, pulling out two rather large paper tickets. “Two silver.”

Varian fished it out of his pockets and handed them over. They gave the tickets to the both of them and settled back down, seemingly ready to get back to their nap.

The two of them went through the gate and looked around at the main volcano. There was no body here. Which meant, they had no one that would disturb them. Varian turned to the journal as they walked deeper.

“So, the trial is towards the bottom of the volcano, but I can’t read this…it’s not in coronan.”

Yong gently pulled down Varians arm to see, then cocked his head to the side. “Oh! Elian!” He grinned. “give it here?”

“wait you can speak this?”

“Duh. Its my first language.”

“But everyone uses Coronan here?”

“Better to talk to tourists but all of us know Elian. It would be stupid if we didn’t.” He grinned as if he didn’t just say the thing that made Varian reexamine his biases.

Yong took the book and started reading. “So it says to find the first piece of the puzzle.”

“First piece?”

Yong shrugged. “Then it says, Down the swirling embers and jagged rocks, you’ll find your prize just awaiting a spark.”

“That doesn’t even rhyme!” Varian pouted. He loved a good rhyme. Yong chuckled.

“I’m not sure where that is…we don’t go that deep during the field trips.”

“Well, we’ve got time, I guess.”

“And lunch!”

Varian chuckled, and followed Yong deeper into the cave systems.

~

It took hours.

And Varian was very sure they were very lost.

He wasn’t even sure this was a path that people were allowed to take.

“Wanna take a break?” Yong asked.

Varian stopped walking, and sighed, sitting down. “Yeah…yeah that lunch sounds good right about now.”

Yong sat and pulled off his bag, grabbing out the two lunches, giving one to Varian. “I hope you don’t mind. It’s some leftovers from a big party my family had the other night.”

Varian opened the small box that the food was contained in. It was still steaming. Inside he saw food unlike the kind in corona.

Dumplings, chicken drenched in orange sauce, and some lo mein. He had heard about them of course, read about this food even. But he has never actually tasted it. All the Elian food in Corona burned his nostrils so bad he never actually had the want to try.

This didn’t seem spicy though.

Varian took a careful bite. His mouth exploded with flavor. He couldn’t help the happy noises that came out of his mouth, despite Yong giggling.

“This is delicious.”

Yong grinned. “my moms specialty. Im glad you like it!”

Varian ate his food with that same happy grin. He swore he’d be a little bit happier for the rest of his life.

“So, ive been meaning to ask you…” Yong started. Varian gave him his attention through a mouthful of noodles.

“Whats with the teal streak?”

Varian swallowed his food. “oh that? I don’t know. Something I’ve had since I was born…Maybe it’s cause I was close to the moonstone when I was a baby? Before my dad brought me to Corona, I mean. It’s just a theory though…not that it really matters anymore.”

Yong shrugged. “It still looks cool.”

Varian smiled. No one had really mentioned his streak before, much less think it was cool.

The two finished their food and Yong packed it back up. The two got back on their feet.

“So swirling embers. What do you think it means?” Yong asked.

Varian thought for a second. “could be a tunnel of fire?”

“Howd we get through?”

Varian just shrugged.

They traveled for a bit before passing by a glowing tunnel. Bright with glowing jewels. Varian paused, then backtracked. That had to be what they were looking for.

Slowly the two went down the tunnel. It was getting hotter as they went, which was not the greatest sign.

“Yong you said this place was dormant right?”

“Yeah…”

Varian winced at the boys tone but they couldn’t stop now. They were so close. “…Stay close to me.”

Yong did as he was told and they made it to the bottom. It was sweltering. All around were veins. Looking to carry gold. Varian bent down to look at them. They seemed to be in a rod shape , though they varied in sizes.

“huh…Volcanoes don’t usually make this stuff…it’s almost like someone put them here…maybe this is the prize the book was talking about.”

“First piece of the puzzle…what does that mean? What’s with these symbols? Give me a hint mom…”

Varian started messing with the veins, and saw as the pages shifted, as if someone were turning it. The staff of clarity.

He sat and read, seeing that with the formulas his mom had written, the staff of clarity could be formed from the gold. He smiled and started working.

It took a couple minutes, but in the test tube Varian had brought along, he had created them very formula he needed. All that was left to do was put it on the vein.

He took a deep breath, hoped the calculations were right, and poured it on.

Part of the vein fell open, dropping pieces of a large staff. Varian started putting them together as Yong looked at Varian strangely.

“So we got a staff?”

“The staff of clarity. I think it’ll help us with finding the fire totem.”

He finished, grinning. “all…” He stood. No one was there. “Done? Yong?”

The world had suddenly turned red. It reminded him all too much of the red rocks. “Yong where-“

“Varian!” His dad’s voice was loud in his ears.

“Dad!?”

He turned and he saw his father, being in amber again, reaching for him. “Dad!” He didn’t think about how his father could be there, much less encased in amber. He ran and nearly got to him, only to be just too late. Quirin was once again encased in amber. “No…no not again! Not again no!” The tears in his eyes sprung and he felt like he was 14 again.

Then he turned around, and he saw something almost worse. All of his loved ones choked in amber. He stepped back. “no…no, no.”

“This Is all your fault.”

He turned, seeing no one but himself, hands behind his back, dressed like he was when he teamed up with the saporians. He had this red glint in his eye.

“I…how did…”

“If you had just been a little more careful.”

-

Yong was panicking. As soon as Varian put together that staff, he’d gone catatonic, staring at the wall with this scary red glow in his eyes, sobbing and mumbling incoherently. He’d tried everything. Shaking him, smacking him, even asking him nicely to come out of his trance. But Varian didn’t budge.

Then he saw the book. He picked it up and the wind whipped it to the next page. There was another piece. And then it said to review the fire trials.

Yong processed this information. “your prize just awaiting a spark…” He looked around and saw something glittering. Running over he saw it was the final piece. A golden orb encased in stone. Yong had an idea how to get it out. Varian would kill him if he knew he’d stowed away a stick of fireworks in his sock just in case of emergencies.

He pulled it out, then swiped it against the ground to create the spark. “Hope this works!”

He threw it at the orb.

-

“You were the one who joined up with dangerous criminals.”

“Stop it.” Varian was on his hands and knees now, begging for his red tinted self to stop talking.

“Oh and erased the royals memories. Who’s to say you’re not just as bad. As stupid. As dangerous as you were back then.”

“Shut up.” Varian looked up at himself. His head cleared a bit as he took a deep breath. The illusion wavered for just a moment, not that he really noticed.

“Don’t like hearing the truth?”

Varian looked to the side, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. For once, the other him stopped talking.

“I was a grieving kid.” Varians voice shook as he spoke. “I was hurting. I’m still hurting. I didn’t make good choices.”

“understatement.”

“I’m not done.” Varian glared, slowly coming to his feet. “But I will never stop trying. So hit me with all you got. Nothings going to stop me from getting to that library.”

The other him looked to the side, seeing something Varian didn’t. Then, it turned blue and smiled. His genuine smile. “Good job kid.” The visage of himself disappeared.

Varian took a deep breath, blinking. He was back in reality, and Yong had just finished putting a piece of the staff in. He looked at Yong, taking a shaky breath.

“how did you…?”

“there was a final piece!” Yong said. “the clarity jade. It needed a spark to get out of the stone and lucky for us, I brought an extra firework.”

Varian paused, then grinned. “Yong you’re a genius!” he ruffled the kids hair. “Ill never tell you to leave your fireworks at home again!”

Yong laughed.

Varian looked down to the staff. “Was it…testing me?”

“Maybe that was the trial!” Yong said, then the two looked over at the sound of rocks moving, scratching against each other. The totem, the relic, was revealed. The two looked at each other.

Varian moved forward to grab it. He walked under the glowing stones and reached for it.

Another hand settled on his as he wrapped his hand around it.

In front of him was a boy with green eyes, an undercut and big round glasses. The two stared at each other.

“let go!” The boy started, tugging.

Varian didn’t, of course. “No you let go!”

The tug of war went back and forth and Yong watched confused.

“Finders keepers!” The blonde said sticking out his tongue before finally using his other hand to push Varian off. He moved quickly.

“Hey! We did the trial! Its ours!” Varian said as the boy was already making his exit up another tunnel.

He just laughed. “Thanks for doing the dirty work!”

He threw a smoke bomb, and both the boy and the relic were gone.

~

It must have been midnight when the two finally found their way out of the dormant volcano. Varian had thought about searching for the boy but Yong had a point about getting lost. They’d have to hunt that guy down for the relic after a good night’s rest.

“I’m sorry about the relic, Varian.” Yong said.

Varian sighed. “Its okay…we’ll find him again. I’m exhausted though, and I need to find a place to sleep tonight.”

“you can stay at my house!”

Varian raised an eyebrow. “wouldn’t your parents be concerned about a strange boy in your house?”

“Nah. I have a lot of siblings. They wouldn’t notice another kid!”

With boundless energy, Yong led Varian back to town.

~

Hugo grinned at his success as he walked back into camp. “Dooooonnnnnnniiieee!” he crowed.

Donella herself was sitting by a campfire next to her right hand Cyrus, eating dinner. She grinned. “You actually did it.”

Hugo thought about tossing it, but decided its a bad idea, moving and handing it off instead. “yeah. Thanks to that varian guy.”

“What?”

Hugo nodded. “Yeah, he was already there. But not quick enough to get the relic before me.”

Donella frowned, thinking. “so he is searching.”

A long pause and Donella had a plan cooked up. She handed the relic back to him. “Taje this back, join his party. Help him find the relics.”

“…okay? Why?”

She sighed, all but rolling her eyes. “Makes the work easier on us, plus, easier to keep track of what he does and doesn’t know. You’ll report to me anything you find out. Understood?”

Hugo paused, looking at the totem, then nodded. “Yeah. I won’t let you down.”

~

Yong wasn’t lying when he said his parents wouldn’t notice another kid. There were at least 7 younger kids running around Yongs small house when they got back, both the parents trying to put them to sleep.

“Who’s this?” his mother asked after she and his father fretted over him for being gone so long with no warning or anything. “he looks like a panda with those eye bags.”

“This is my new friend Varian! We went to the volcano together today!”

She looked Varian up and down, examining him. It made varian feel self conscious.

“You hungry?” she finally asked.

Varian nodded shyly. She smiled and pulled him into the kitchen as her husband finally succeeded on putting yongs younger siblings to sleep.

Yong himself, fell asleep at the table while his mother was cooking. Varian smiled as he took the small boy to bed, being reminded of his own dad carrying him when he was little.

“Now I want you to eat and go to bed young man. You look like you smudged your makeup.”

Varian chuckled. “yes ma’am.”

It wasn’t long until Varian had happy taste buds and a full stomach. He was led to the only available sleeping area which was a couch. It was better then a floor.

He was asleep within minutes.

<

Find this on A03!