#thankfully the editor agreed with me... but how did that make it past the first round of editing in the first place huh????

[themandylion]

The state of human newborns is a bad argument.

The fact that humans can get scurvy, on the other hand...

[emerald-amidst-gold]

WIP Wednesday

Is it just me or has this week been going kind of slow? It feels like Thursday, but no! It is WEDNESDAY! >:D That means it’s time to shaaaaaare! X3

So, I’m finally getting back into writing, but I’m doing bits and pieces at a time. I think I may have put too much pressure on myself, so everything I wrote and then read looked..bleh. 

However! Due to an ask that @the-dreadful-canine sent me, I found some inspiration! >:D

Thank you @noire-pandora for the tag! I send you all the hearts in the world! <3

Halamshiral brings out the best in the both the wolf and the dragon~ >:3

"She was friendly.", Fane said, face blank, arms crossed as he let his eyes follow after the elven servant that had just left where he and Solas were against the walls of the Winter Palace; the two of them keeping to the shadows and niches the soft darkness held.

He had sought out the Elvhen man, thankfully without much interference, to mention another spike in the air around them. There was magic somewhere in the palace, but he couldn't pinpoint its exact placement. Solas had agreed with his assessment after the first time, and the few times Fane had passed through this particular hall, the one lining the small courtyard, he had noticed his sky's brow furrowed slightly and his eyes glued ahead as if he were listening for something.

So far, neither of them had had any luck determining a focal point, but it had to be a rift; his mark proved that. It wasn't flaring violently, but the pulse was deeper than usual and his arm burned as the magic scorched through his veins. It was why, even after notifying the other about the fluctuation in the Veil, he had lingered.

Now, Fane wished he hadn't as his eyes continued to watch the retreating servant girl, her cheeks rosy and her eyes shining with something he knew all too well: infatuation. That would be fine on it's own, he wasn't one to judge or condone another's feelings as his very nature encouraged them to blossom, but the person that gaze was directed towards…

That was another story entirely. Why did he feel so...bitter? This prison of marble, gold, jewels, and stone was infuriating and confusing.

Solas chuckled, his eyes, too, following after the young woman, but they were still, clear, uninterested, but yet, Fane felt odd. "Indeed she was. Many of the servants have been. I believe they find my presence intriguing, and perhaps, comforting.”

"Makes sense. You have a certain air here. More relaxed, even if every shadow holds a knife. Confident, really. Makes you approachable.", Fane muttered out his observation absently, glancing down to be met with questioning orbs of blue-grey; the color was mixed due to the shadows dancing within and around them. They looked midnight in hue and they were trained on him now; no one else. “The responses to me have been the exact opposite. Not surprising, but annoying. I tried to question a pair of them outside this hallway, and they shooed me off.”

Solas gave him a small, but reassuring smile. “So I saw. Merely a precaution, I think, vhenan.”, he said, casting midnight orbs around once more, essences of lavender glinting from starlight. They landed upon a small group; three servants, each elven and they appeared to be wholly uninterested in ferrying about between the nobles. “Servants have long walked within the halls of power, unnoticed, but ever-watchful of those who see them only as inconsequential. Wariness is their greatest weapon against those who flaunt without reservation. The elves along these walls and in these dark corridors know what you represent, and so they keep you at arm’s length. ”

Fane hummed, pursing his lips a bit. "So, they’re fearful of me. Again, not an uncommon reaction.”, he said. albeit a bit bitterly. Typical. He should have known that was the case. Dressing a wolf in sheep’s clothing didn’t not make it a wolf, after all.

Except, he was a dragon. A dragon playing politics, playing with power. Fane was surprised he hadn't combusted as soon as his boots had touched the inner gate's threshold. The night was young, though. Sadly. Unfortunately. Miserably. How his sky, who was now leaning against the pedestal of a bust, appearing calm, collected, and enthused as eternal irises gazed up at him had done this almost day in and day out was baffling and honestly? Terrifying.

Solas shook his head. “No. Not of you as you are, my dragon.”, he denied simply, glittering jewels of deepest blue shifting like the sky just visible through the windows they stood beside. “They’re fearful of the power you possess. Elves have long been the victims of misused power. They wonder if you are the same as the Grand Duke, the Empress, the Duchess, or any here that have dealt a heavy hand without provocation.” A sigh and a warmer smile, midnight shifting to the paleness of moonlight. “However, I have seen gazes begin to linger among the groups each time you pass. They hold hope; a dream of opportunity. You are proving you are not the same, ma’isenatha. Unlike many, who believe themselves entitled. Continue to do as you’re doing, and a society will open up to you. Be patient, be mindful, and be true in a place rife with lies.”

Fane raised an eyebrow, keeping their gazes locked. “So, continue being a near ass to every atrociously dressed fop and priss that gets it in their head to waltz up to me?", he questioned before growling in the next moment. "The last prick I had the misfortune of walking within sight of nearly got a claw up the ass when they touched my arm.”

The mage smirked,  but it seemed...dark, eyes sharpening like metal at his last statement. “I would not call how you’ve been carrying yourself being a ‘near ass’, vhenan. It is far more nuanced than that.”

“Oh? How would you label my attitude then?”, Fane asked, keeping his eyebrow raised before a light of mischief and nostalgia flashed within blue, turning his curious expression into a blank slate. “What’s that look for?”

Something about the air was shifting due to this conversation. It wasn’t magic or anything, but it was...heightening, taking on a heady blend, power and emotion, present and past mixing with odd harmonies. Solas had mentioned something like that when they first arrived...

Solas hummed, eyes taking on a softer edge, primal darkness dispersing in both the curve of his mouth and the depths of his eyes. “It is nothing.”, he dismissed, the glint of nostalgia apparent upon every sharp line and curve of his sky’s face. Razor sharp eyes of blue steel shifted away casually once more, a single finger beginning to tap against where hands overlapped. “Suffice it to say, I am...pleased with this side of you as I am with every facet of personality you gift me with. The evening has been full of surprises, and hopefully, it will end on a high note."

Fane scoffed, leaning back a bit to rest against a windowsill; the marble was cool against the back of his legs and it helped soothe both his mind and the scars upon his legs. The material of his pants were better than most, but not what he was used to. “You’re just tempting the world to answer with that call, my sky.”, he said with a sidelong glance in Solas’ direction.

Solas responded with a sidelong glance of his own. “And what if I am?”, he retorted. There was something...cheeky about the elf’s tone and it wasn’t something Fane heard often, if at all. Yes, things were shifting, but not detrimentally so.

Fane kept his face blank, but he felt..light; a feeling of warmth in his chest apparent. “Then I would have to intervene on its behalf.”, he quipped, dropping his voice a few octaves and narrowing his eyes. These words falling from their mouths, mixing with shadow, candlelight, hushed whispers, and quiet refrains were interesting. They came with ease, they fell with grace…

...they sang with pride. That would usually terrify Fane, one of seven sins that could, but right now, with the sky gazing up at him from the side, body lax and garbed in black much like his own was, and expression titillating, ethereal, he was anything but frightened.

He was enthralled.

Solas hummed, eyes tempting with silent wishes. “My voice would harken a dragon to respond, would it?”, the mage pushed, or rather, pulled him in with that hushed question; the silk that Fane associated with his sky’s voice wrapping around his hearing like a gossamer sheet.

Fane shrugged a bit, bringing his arms up to cross them as he did so with his legs a bit; boots scuffing against pristine marble. He leaned back further against the ledge of the window now, but part of him wanted to inch away, ascend to the sky gazing up at him from hooded lids. “Wouldn’t be the first time. Remember,”, he began before pausing, a tight feeling of warmth ensnaring his chest as Solas’ eyes flashed with quiet indigo and so he pressed back with velvet. “...Fen’harel?”

*screeches* Why do I love these two being suave fools?! The brain worms are strong in this Chili’s tonight! 

Tagging (with no pressure, but all the court intrigue! >:3): 

@oxygenforthewicked @the-dreadful-canine @little-lightning-lavellan @varric-tethras-editor @dreadfutures @dungeons-and-dragon-age @blueheaded @drag-on-age @shift-shaping @cartadwarfwithaheartofgold and anyone else who’d like to share and revel in the court! *cackles* 

[stardancerluv]

Being a Good Friend

Epilogue Part One

Summary: Shadows of the past creep in.

Warning: none

Alex stopped walking beside you on the sandy beach. You stopped and eyed him. His worry was evident on his face.

“Alex, talk to me.” You tucked some hair behind your ear. “You can’t keep everything bottled up.”

You watched as he pressed his lips together. He looked past you before he looked back at you. His blue eyes reminded you on how sometimes, ocean could get turbulent here. He reached out and placed his hands on your tummy. Sighing, you put your hands over his. “I am fucking scared.” He finally said in a rush. “What if they find us here?” He added.

“They won’t.” You reached up and caressed his cheek, ignoring how he flinched.

“I’d be beside myself if anything were to happen to you and our little one.” He leaned into your cheek, he made a strangled sigh as he looked downward.

“They won’t Alex, it will be ok.”

******

That had been the last either of you had spoken of Juliet for quite a bit of time.

Waking with a start, Alex was breathless. He could’t remember what had made him so scared in his dream but he certainly was awake now. He did not see falling back to sleep happening anytime soon so he gently eased out of bed, careful to not wake you. It was almost five in the morning.

Pulling on his flannel robe, he went to check on little his Alexandria, his little Lexi. The moon and the dawn that was approaching flooded her room silvery, blue light. He heard her baby coos and gurgles before he even saw her.

“You couldn’t sleep either, huh love?”

There you were standing and holding on as tight as you could to the railing. She wiggled as he drew close. “Hello, my little princess. You’re happy to see daddy aren’t you ?”Reaching down, he gently picked her up and she almost immediately nestled close to his chest.

His heart swelled as he held her. He walked out onto the balcony to look at the he dark ocean lapping at the beach. Rubbing her back he looked out, she let out a burp that made Alex laugh so hard. “You may be my princess but you are a lot like daddy.” Cupping her head gently he gave it a soft kiss.

He gasped when over her head, he saw someone looking up at them. He immediately shrank back into the apartment. Fear gripped his heart. He looked around, putting his little princess down. Hunching over he walked over to the balcony. He peaked over the edge, whoever had been there was gone. It did not stop his heart from racing. Scooping up his princess he held her. What was he going to do, he just didn’t know.

*******

You put a bowl in front him the next morning. “Alex, are you ok?” You stood beside him as he ate his cereal. Absently, you played with his hair, it was getting longish. You were going to enjoy it while you could.

He nodded.

“Are you sure? You look like you didn’t sleep a wink.”

He finally looked at you and grimaced. “I checked on our little princess and when I did, we went out to the balcony. Someone was looking up at ours.”

“Are you sure?”

“At five in the morning, I’m sure.” He looked even worse then he did moments ago. “When I went go and look they were gone.”

“Good, maybe it was just someone walking by who happened to look up.” He sat back and pulled you onto his lap. “I really hope so.”

It couldn’t possible be Rose or Juliet, you mused as you hugged him. Your stomach, as you felt ill at the thought.

Lexi cooed and gurgled, lifting your head you smiled at your precious little girl. Who so many ways was just like her daddy from her wild auburn hair, bright blue eyes and some of her expressions she’d make when she spoke to either of you in her baby babble.

“Ok, we’ll stop ignoring you princess. Do you like your strained apples?”

“Daddy found you those apples.”

Right at that moment, she took a spoon and flicked it and it landed right on daddy’s face. You giggled into Alex’s shoulder who just looked stunned.

“She told you.” You giggled further into his shoulder.

******

After Alex had gone to work at the paper, you went to go and check the mail. Alex’s mum had said she she had sent a package for the baby. So you have been watching the mail like a hawk.

“Sra Law, Sra Law.” Turning, you smiled. You were still not over the giddy feeling you felt when someone would call you Mrs. Law.

“Sim.” You knew very few words but the ones you knew, you used. Sim = Yes in Portuguese

“There was a break in last night.”

Remembering, what Alex had said made fear knot in your stomach. You shifted Lexi to your other hip. “Do we know who did it? Is there any leads?”

The man shook his head. “Nao. They didn’t take anything but we’re telling the residents to make sure they lock their doors and we’ll be keeping an extra security guard on tonight.” (Nao = No in Portuguese)

“Obrigada. We’ll stay safe. I’ll tell Alex, I mean Senhora Law.” (Mrs. Law in Portuguese)

“Very good.” The sweet man who had been on the first to welcome you the complex, gently patted the back of Lex’s head. “She is such a sweet baby.”

“She is. Though she did throw some apples earlier.”

The man gave a belly laugh. “She has a a strong will like her mommy and daddy.”

You smiled, she certainly did with all she survived but you simply nodded. “She really is.” You agreed.

******

You put Lexi down for a nap once you got back to the flat. She went down easily. Once she was breathing evenly, you called Alex.

“Hi love.” He purred into the phone.

“Alex, can you come home?”

“I can try it is a heavy news day, with all the prep for carnival coming.”

“Please try to get home, tell them I am being a silly mommy. I need you home.”

“Are you ok?”

“I will be once you get here.”

“Ok, I will be there soon.”

****

He had not heard you this upset since well before. He swallowed hard and quickly typed up the last few lines he needed for his article. He the. Sent it to the editor. Taking out his wallet he managed to find in one of the pockets, he found Detective McCall’s card. He called him.

“Why Mister Law, I was just thinking about you.”

Alex rolled his eyes, the man could be dramatic.

“I hope those were good thoughts.”

The man chuckled at the other end of the line. “You know in my field there is rarely good news. Well, we are still attempting to track down Juliet Miller. We believe her and her lover boarded a boat headed to South America.”

“Oh, that is brilliant.”

“Hey stay positive there are only three known ships that take passengers so we are watching those. We will pick her up in no time.”

He sighed. “Great.” He grimaced. “ I suppose that is a good thing.” Alex was feeling confined, he desperately wanted to hang up.

“It is. Now, tell me how are you and the wee girl ? Is she keeping you up all night.”

“Not yet, but she did throw her breakfast at me this morning.”

The man chuckled, “They’ll do that.”

“Well, I better finish this article, there is always a story that needs to be covered.”

“Right, well talk to you soon Mr. Law.”

******

Thankfully, his boss was understanding and knew exactly what he was going through. Also gave him tickets to go and see it with you and the little princess. That way not only could he enjoy it but he could also cover it.

He managed to get one cigarette in before getting to the flat. He had really cut back, but with his news of Juliet loose made his old habit come back and hard.

When he came into the living room, he found you with your legs drawn up and your arms around them. You startled when he came to sit beside you. “Baby, what’s the matter? What happened?”

You threw your arms around him. He almost fell backwards but he held firm and held you tight. He resting his chin on your shoulder.

“Someone broke into the apartment complex last night. Maybe that is who you saw last night.” You pulled back and looked at him. Oh, he hated seeing you so upset. That is why you two came here to get away from all of that.

“Are they doing anything about it?” He felt like someone punched him. So someone had certainly been there last night.

“There will be an extra guard.”

“That’s good.”

*****

Sometime later when you started a late lunch for the two you, he shed his work clothes and slipped into some sweats and and sweat shirt. He went and checked on his precious Lexi.

“Ola, Ola?” (Hello in Portuguese)

He heard you say but nothing further.

“Shall we go and check on Mum?” Scooping Lexi up, he held her and walked into the kitchen.

“Who was that?”

You were stirring a the begging stages of what looked like a delicious stew or soup couldn’t tell just what yet.

“I don’t know it’s the second one today.”

Putting Lexi down in her high chair, he got her some yogurt. “Now, let’s not throw this at Daddy alright?” He traced her sweet soft cheek. She certainly only his heart and she was still such a wee thing.

He went over to you, and wrapped his arms around your middle. We’ll be ok. He whispered and pressed a kiss to your cheek. “We’ll be ok., I promise” He assured you.

Walking with you away from the stove, “Alex, I’m cooking.” He chuckled. “You know me, I love being a sweet distraction.” You giggled at that, and that you let him gently turn you around. “I do have some good news.”

You smiled gently. “Yes?”

“My boss wants me to cover carnival in two days and he gave me tickets so that you, Lexi and I could go.”

Your eyes lit up then. “Oh, that is wonderful.”

“It will be and it will give us a chance to get away a little bit. Clear our heads.”

“I’d like that.”

@mac-n-cheesie @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @rentskenobi @brookisbi @johallzy @darling-i-read-it @professionalclown @chogisss @calcifvr @i-love-scott-mccall @stardust-and-starlight @the-mandalorian-clone-lover @unfilteredmoonchild @sithonis @xbrex @hollow-r-us

[bh7theseriesblog]

The Origins of Big Hero 7

Big Hero 7: The Series

Origins

*A flicker of black and white starts up for a while, static noises barely blocks out a voice*

Umm…Hello? Can you hear me?

*the flickering and static stops as it shows a 14 year old girl with dyed blue hair and purple eye contacts*

Can you hear me? Oh it's working!

*The girl sits on the chair in front of the camera. She smooths out her sea green skirt as she clears her throat*

Hi! So…after some thinking I decided to make a video diary so I can remember what I said. After all, who knows when it'll come in handy right? Oh right! I forgot to introduce myself! My name is Cora Mizichio.

*Cora chuckles slightly before continuing*

So I guess I should start with my life and such. Let me warn you though, it's kind of a long and wild story.

*she pulls out a phone and starts showing pictures*

I have lived in San Fransokyo for my whole life with my Dad, Mizuchi and Grandmama, Kaguya. My mom, Akemi passed away when I was a baby.

*image of a blonde hair woman smiled warmly before switching to Cora and her family. Her father being Goliath in stature and her grandmother dressed in a kimono with a cane*

Then my family found out that I'm incredibly intelligent for my age. I suppose hacking into your father's computer to send a birthday card at the age of 4 does that. My Dad is very sweet and an old softie, but is very protective of me and wasn't sure that I should go to school. So I was homeschooled, it was fun being taught by Grandmama and such about Marine biology, but…I felt kind of lonely…

After all my studies, I actually made a habit of bot fighting disguised as an unknown cat-masked competitor under the name 'Nekodomo'. It earned good money since at the time Dad hadn't gotten any luck with jobs due to his height. But it was my very first night of bot fighting that I met him…Hiro Hamada

*she flips the photo to a young Asian boy her age, with messy raven hair, large almond brown eyes and a tooth gap in his smile.*

I've never had very much luck when it came to making or having friends, so if I someone told me that I would end up dating this guy I would had laughed. But yeah we did. I was paired up with Hiro in one of those special bot fighting events like the duo duel. We won, but than the cops were coming and I was so scared of getting caught that I couldn't move. But then the next thing I know Hiro grabs my hand and we were running like crazy before the cops even spot us! I have no idea how long we had been running, but to be honest I didn't really care because I was still awe-struck by the fact that Hiro had save me from getting arrested and we didn't even know each other at the time. But that was all about to change, because as we were finally approaching a safe distance from the cops, it was at that moment where I tripped and fell flat on my face, and at the same time broke my mask. Thankfully Hiro picked me back up and we started running again, with me leaving my broken mask behind. Once we finally stopped and knew we were safe, that was when Hiro and I actually first met face-to-face. Now I have to be honest with you, I've never really known if the whole 'Love at first sight' thing was actually real or not, but it's the only thing I can describe how I felt when I first looked into Hiro's eyes. It was there when we properly introduced ourselves to each other and after that, we started seeing each other more. And it was only after 4 months of hanging out together, that I finally got to meet his family, and he got to meet mine.

*The picture now showed Hiro with a woman holding a calico japanese bobtail cat and a young man on either side of him.*

The woman on his left is his Aunt Cass, she runs a coffee shop called the Lucky Cat Cafe. The young man on his right is his older brother Tadashi. And the adorably cute kitty-cat Aunt Cass is holding is Mochi, their family pet. They are really cool people, and they always asked how I was doing and such, and Mochi is such a sweet kitty that he always tries to cuddle up to me whenever I come over. Hiro and I actually became an official thing one night when I saved his butt from Yama's minions. And boy were they surprised! Aunt Cass actually bounced when Hiro told them that I'm his girlfriend! Dad and Grandmama met them that night too, while dad wasn't too happy at first about me dating, Grandmama convinced him…after hitting him on the head with her cane.

*Cora giggled at the memory*

Anyway, After a slight misadventure where Hiro and Tadashi landed in jail and Cass had to bail them out, Tadashi actually took Hiro to SFIT, San Fransokyo institute of Technology that same night. Hiro told me that he met Tadashi's friends. There's Gogo: the cool biker chick, Honey Lemon: the stylish Chem genius, Wasabi: Laser neat freak, and Fred: the secret Billionaire super hero geek. Afterwards Hiro and I actually applied to SFIT by entering the showcase! Hiro made these miniature robots he called Microbots which he can control via head transmitter, I on the other hand did super strength suction cup shoes that can stick on any surface. We both won and we…were gonna celebrate until…a huge fire broke out in the showcase building and Tadashi ran back inside to help Callaghan, a teacher at the school….he didn't make it…

*Cora turned quiet, looking at her hands as she takes a deep breath*

Hiro wasn't himself for a while. I visited him a lot since the fire, and I mostly talked and tried to comfort and be there for him. Then came the day Hiro stubbed his toe and Baymax came along.

*A picture of a white inflated figure came to the picture*

Baymax was Tadashi's project, a robotic nurse to be more specific. He heard Hiro say ow and activated to help him. Then one of Hiro's microbots started acting weird, and Baymax followed the direction it went! It was then we found a guy in a kabuki mask controlling the Microbots. But they were destroyed at the fire right? Once Hiro pieced together that it was the kabuki-masked man that started the fire to steal them, which in turned killed Tadashi…Hiro decided to build Baymax some armor which…well

*the next picture showed Baymax in protective gear*

We traveled down to the port where we saw him take some type of machine out of the ocean. But then it turns out Baymax called the gang to help us, but sadly the guy in the mask saw us. We barely escaped with our lives that night! Thankfully Baymax being a walking marshmallow, also makes him an inflatable raft too. Afterwards we got to Fred's mansion and discussed over what to do next. Side note: it was weird to see that Fred is a billionaire.

*shows portrait of a young Fred and his parents in classy attire*

Hiro and I then built ourselves armor to fight the guy in the mask. Honey lemon got this cute chemistry purse to pull out what she needed, Gogo got some sick skates to zoom past us, Fred got a killer Kaiju costume that breaths fire, Wasabi got awesome laser blades on the backs of his hands, and I got my aquatic camouflage suit with squid strength suction cup shoes! And learning back from his previous work, Hiro turned Baymax from a stay puff marshmallow with bicycle gear to an awesome superhero!

*the next photo shows Baymax in his red armor*

After training and flying around the city we got down to business. We flew to Akuma island where the masked guy was, and it was there we learned something interesting. Krei and some government officials had something called 'Project Silent Sparrow'. It backfired when the portal sucked everything in, and the pilot was stuck. But then the masked guy attacked us! We tried to fight back but….

*a small clip showed Fred jumping only to be punched away *

We bombed, big time.

Hiro and I got lucky to get the mask…but the person was not who we thought….

Turns out Callaghan grabbed the transmitter and used it and the Microbots to protect himself in the fire…leaving Tadashi to die….

It was then that Hiro took out Baymax's health care chip and ordered him to kill Callaghan…

*Cora took a deep breathe before standing up and leaving the room, she returned back with a glass of water and started drinking it. Once she was done She then continued.*

Thankfully the gang got Baymax back to normal but Hiro was furious. He just left with Baymax…but we eventually met up with Hiro at his place, with a video of Tadashi…it was also when we showed him what we discovered. The pilot was no random person Krei hired. She was Callaghan's daughter, and Callaghan was out for blood.

We got to Krei Tech where Callaghan got his portal running. Hiro then learned what we needed to do to beat him; instead of the mask, we take out the Microbots, then he'd be powerless. But despite that, the portal was still open, and ready to tear itself to pieces. Then Baymax dropped the biggest bomb on us, Callaghan's daughter was still alive in there.

Hiro and I got on Baymax to rescue her. We found her pod but Baymax's thrusters were wrecked from the debris…

Baymax…he got us out by rocket punch…but stayed behind in the portal…

It's been weeks since then…

Krei agreed to keep our identities a secret, Callaghan is in prison, and his daughter is making a steady recovery at the hospital. And the news had been exploding over 'the mysterious group of heroes' that saved the city.

Hiro and I had been doing good, we talked to the gang a lot and we actually reapplied to SFIT again.

*Cora then looks at the clock beside her and gasped*

Oh man it's almost midnight! And first day of class is tomorrow! Anyway, thank you for listening! And…Baymax…I don't know if you can hear me..but Hiro has been doing good. We all miss you…especially me and Hiro...wish us good luck, cause who knows what happens tomorrow.

*Cora smiles at the camera before turning it off.*

A.N: This is an updated look for the prolouge chapter of Big Hero 7: The Series!

Liking the new visuals? ;3

This chapter has been edited by WolfWitchHuntress1318 at Fanfiction.net! Thank you for being my patient editor! Thank you for following and reading Big Hero 7! Love ya!

[prettywordsyouleft]

Band Sessions: Dowoon

Pairing: Yoon Dowoon x reader

Genre: band au / university au / fluff

Warnings: none

Word count: 2681

Thank you to everyone who supported Band Sessions.

Index: Jae | Sungjin | Young K | Wonpil | Dowoon

It was the biggest scoop thus far for you to take on as a reporter for the campus newspaper. You had only transferred to this university at the start of the semester, and since the roles in the editing room had been well established before you came along, you had been lucky enough to be writing a weekly column as it was. Still, there was only so much of your journalism skills you could exercise in the highlights reel you had been assigned to.

So when a seasoned writer for the paper, Maggie, had fallen over skiing in the weekend, well, you had been worried for her, of course.

And secretly grateful for the opportunity to snag some of her workload.

“This is a big deal, Y/N. Day6 won another band competition on Friday night and we need someone to interview the members and write about their growing population on and off campus as a band.”

“I can do it,” you assured your editor-in-chief with a confident nod.

Gerrie sighed and looked around at the rest of the hustle in the office and then back at your face. You could tell he was hoping he could rely on someone else, perhaps someone who had already proven their talent in his eyes.

But this was going to be your moment. You had been accepted onto the newspaper team because of the stellar recommendations from your past university. There, you had usually held the third most important story of each edition. You had even saved the dying campus cafeteria after writing about their surprising culinary art.

So writing about a campus band would be a piece of cake.

“Alright, you have four days to interview them and present your article to me. It’s running in our next release.”

“I’ll get it to you on time, Gerrie,” you confirmed and picked up your notebook you had been scribbling in, shifting up out of the chair in front of the senior.

“Y/N,” he called out and you stopped to look back at Gerrie. His gaze pierced yours. “Don’t mess this up, I’m counting on you.”

“I won’t let you down, boss.”

Returning to your desk, you let an elated smile cross over your lips momentarily. You were wired up, excited to finally let your reporting prowess shine. Glancing down at the name written in the middle of the page of your notebook, you picked up your pen and circled Day6 a couple of times.

Oh yes, this would be amazing.

Once you found out who Day6 even was, that is.

Thankfully, it was never all that hard to research anything and your lack of knowledge about the five member band had been replaced with notes on all of their current accolades, how many gigs they had played this year, a fansite address, and most importantly, where their studio was located. You had even contacted the band over their official Instagram account and arranged an interview for the following evening. On your way over, you hummed along to one of their songs, Better Better, playing on Spotify through your phone, feeling more than ready to meet the band now known as regional finalists.

You could tell upon the studio door opening that this title was a big deal for them.

Sungjin, their leader, laughed heartily after greeting you, clasping his hands together and looking towards his members as he gestured for you to take a seat. “I never thought we’d be interviewed by the school paper.”

“Given you were interviewed by the local news station, it can’t be all that bad to have me here today.”

Having memorised all the members’ names, you smiled at Wonpil when he bashfully smiled, waving his hands around to dismiss the notion. “No, we’re really happy. Thank you for thinking of us!”

“Dude, you’re shaking, are you really happy?” Jae teased and leaned forward in his chair. He attention then switched to you. “You’re not taking a photo of us tonight, right?”

“No, I can use a photo from your latest gig, if you’d prefer. Your manager has sent me more than enough photos to pick from,” you offered and he somewhat relaxed, a lazy smile crossing his lips. You smiled knowingly, he definitely had a relationship with their manager as you suspected from her glowing conversation about the lead guitarist in particular.

Clearing your throat, you launched into your prepared questions after confirming it was alright to record the interview. It didn’t take long for Brian and Jae to take over, answering what you needed to know with relative ease. You picked up that whilst Sungjin was the leader, answering questions on the spot was more Brian’s forte. Still, the former was present, throwing in some witty remarks and making sure his younger members did participate.

You noticed that every time Dowoon talked, his ears would turn pink and he’d chuckle a lot. It was rather endearing, and you wondered just how many of their fans liked his shy persona. You could almost guarantee he was the type to get embarrassed being stopped on campus for a signature or photo.

“Oh yeah, he’s totally the type,” Jae confirmed with a laugh at the expense of the drummer. And then he nodded. “But Dowoon is the dark horse of our team.”

“Without a drummer keeping you all on time, how can you effectively work together,” you agreed, smiling brightly at the student now almost as red as Wonpil’s shirt. “How do you feel about the term Jae mentioned?”

Dowoon rubbed at the back of his neck awkwardly and then grinned. “Well, uh, I guess I’m kind of important.”

“Kind of?” Brian echoed with a laugh. “You’re definitely important.”

“Shall we go as far as to dub you the most important member?” you offered with an encouraging smile and Dowoon shook his head. “Come on now, if you don’t keep the time, then how can you play together as in sync as you do?”

“I guess that makes sense.”

You clapped your hands together and beamed at the rest of the group. “Thank you so much for your time today. I’m looking forward to your future achievements. And the show this weekend, as well.”

“Oh, you’re coming?” Sungjin asked and you nodded.

“Sweet, if your article goes well, you can come to the after-party,” Jae offered and shrugged when Wonpil gaped at him for suggesting it on those terms.

You merely chuckled. “Well I’ll consider myself invited since you all made it easy for me to write this up, I can tell.”

You thanked them all again for their time and then headed towards the door to the studio, smiling back at everyone before stepping out.

You felt relieved. Not only had the interview gone well, but you already felt inspired to draft up your first copy of the piece. Hurrying towards the elevator, you only hoped that your hands could keep up typing the thoughts now swirling around in your mind.

“Well, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m super impressed,” Gerrie announced when you handed in your article for submission. You beamed with his compliment, watching as he tried not to smile at you when he looked up. “I guess the highlights reel was not the right place to put you.”

“No, I think it humbled me.”

“Well, I’ll have to do some rearranging of the team. We’ll definitely need more of your articles running in the paper, Y/N.”

Thanking him repeatedly, you waited until you were out of the office before you began to celebrate. Pumping your hand up into the air, you let out a cheer, did a little dance on the spot and then patted your own shoulder.

When you were done singing your praises, you looked up and found someone watching you. Instead of feeling embarrassed, you grinned happily and approached the tall man whose ears were now the same colour as your blouse. “Destiny called you here, right?”

“Who’s Destiny?” Dowoon wondered and then eyed you carefully. “Are you alright, Y/N?”

“Never been better.”

“You ran around in a circle,” he pointed out with a small smirk. So he had enjoyed the performance you had just put on.

Nudging him playfully, you couldn’t contain your happiness. “My scoop on Day6 was a hit. I was complimented by the steely Gerrie Moore. That is not an easy feat and it’s all thanks to you.”

“Really?” he genuinely enthused and grinned. “Let me buy you a celebratory coffee then!”

“Only if you allow me to buy you a piece of cake to say thanks for helping me out,” you compromised and Dowoon laughed, nodding once.

“Are you free now?”

“Didn’t you see me just run around in a circle? Do you think I could possibly be up to anything more productive?” you mentioned with a laugh and Dowoon chuckled.

“Well then, coffee and cake it is.”

You had believed that conversation with Dowoon would be hard to achieve. Admittedly, at first, he had seemed shy. But he persisted through in asking you how you had been and you easily steered the conversation towards your hobbies and interests.

“You know, I’ve always wanted to learn the drums,” you mentioned and Dowoon’s eyebrows arched curiously.

“Really?”

You nodded. “Of course. How cool would it be to vent your annoyance by banging something?”

“There’s more to drumming than just banging at the instrument, Y/N. It takes a lot of skill.”

“Of course there is,” you agreed and then leaned over the table towards him. Dowoon eyed you cautiously. “Reckon you could show me sometime?”

“You… you want to learn?”

Nodding eagerly, you pointed to the exit. “Are you free now?”

“You just do everything on a whim, don’t you?” he asked with a laugh and you shrugged.

“When I have an idea, I want to follow it through. So, can you teach me?”

“I bet after thirty minutes you’ll never want to drum again,” he proclaimed and you gaped at Dowoon, rolling up your sleeves as if you were preparing yourself to prove him wrong.

You smirked. “I’m competitive.”

“I can tell.”

“Come on then, let’s go so I can prove you wrong!”

You did in fact, last longer than thirty minutes. But you had to admit, it was a whole lot harder than you expected. Most of the time, Dowoon had you simply kicking the bass drum in a stable rhythm. That was relatively easy until your leg tired.

Dowoon smirked. “It’s not easy, is it?”

“I can do it,” you corrected, heaving in a deep breath and trying to regain your tempo. When you had it, you smiled smugly and gestured for what was next.

“Y/N, most people learn the basics for weeks on end. You need to build up your leg muscles on the kick drum first.”

“No I want to try and incorporate my hands too!” you bit back, looking at the drum kit before you. Pointing at a part of it, you looked over at Dowoon. “This is the floor Tom, right?”

“You know your parts,” he replied with a surprised smile.

“When I research something I have an interest in, I like to know all the facts,” you commented, heaving in another breath.

Maintaining this beat was a lot harder than you wanted to let on.

“Oh yeah, is that how you knew stuff about us?”

“Of course. A reporter’s job is to find the facts and bring the story to life with them.”

“So you know about us?” he repeated and you glanced in Dowoon’s direction, your focus narrowing as he rubbed at the back of his neck. “I bet you know a lot about Jae and Brian. They’re popular with the fans.”

“Your favourite colour is red, you have a dog and a cat, you love most types of meals with meat in them and you strangely like green tea ice cream.”

Dowoon blinked, and his ears turned red. “You know all that?”

“What, that’s just after a simple search from your fansites. Kind of crazy to think you have fans compiling lists like this, huh?”

“I’m grateful,” he mumbled and you nodded.

“I thought you would be.”

“Do you know anything else?” he wondered, his hand mindlessly playing with the cymbals. You examined his motion for a moment before giving up on kick pedal, collapsing over the snare drum.

“I know that my leg is about to fall off,” you heaved and Dowoon chuckled. Looking up at him, you smiled. “And that you have a nice talking voice. Your laugh is really cute too. And when you smile, I almost forget what I’m talking about. At the interview, you were the one I wanted to hear from the most.”

“Really?” Dowoon tried not to grin but it spread across his lips all the same. “You like talking to me?”

“I do. And admittedly, you were right. I don’t think I’m cut out for drumming. You’re super talented, Dowoon. I just wanted to spend more time with you.”

“Why would you want to do that?”

You chewed on your lip with hesitation. However, you were known to be bold with all your thoughts. It was how you were an excellent reporter. Sometimes, the risks you took were worth a moment of feeling out of your depth.

“Well, I saw what your ideal type was listed as and hoped I matched up well enough for you to want to spend time with me. And maybe go out on a date?” For a moment, Dowoon was frozen. You weren’t even sure he was breathing still and you watched carefully to ensure he wasn’t going to collapse or anything. And then he seemed to come back alive again, unable to control his emotions. His eyes were bright and he swapped between chuckling and grinning giddily. His ears were pink, as was his neck too. He seemed to be overheating.

Reaching out for his hand, you squeezed it, hoping he would calm down a little. It seemed to work, even though Dowoon had rested against the wall to hold himself up. “You’re bold.”

“I told you, when I show an interest in something, I need to know all the facts. There’s no point in me trying to play coy with you when I like you. But, if you don’t feel the same-”

“No, I definitely do. I just… you really do match my ideal type. I’m kind of surprised that you actually exist.”

It was your turn to blush finally and Dowoon seemed to like this a little too much. “Hey, about that after-party this weekend…”

“Want to come as my date?” Dowoon asked before you could suggest anything and you nodded happily, swinging your still linked hands back and forth gently.

“I’d really like that.”

“Can I request something though?”

“What?”

Dowoon grinned. “I don’t know nearly as much as you do. Reckon you could write up a facts list like the one you found on me? That way I can learn about you too.”

“Don’t you want to find out slowly like how most people do whilst dating?”

Dowoon shook his head. “If you’re going to know all you do about me first, I want to level out the playing field.”

“I’ll have it to you by tomorrow then,” you answered, standing up from the drum kit. You weren’t prepared for how weak your leg was, and stumbled, Dowoon reaching out to catch you. Your hands went to his middle and your eyes snapped up to his.

“Oh,” you commented, blinking slowly. “I guess that’s true too.”

“What is?”

“That drummers tend to have really good bodies.”

“Y/N!” Dowoon spluttered and then laughed. “Maybe you know too much.”

“It’s my job to know a lot about things,” you countered and Dowoon nodded. You then slipped your arms around his waist, nestling into his body. You waited to see what his reaction would be but he didn’t pull away, his arms gingerly sliding up to pat you gently.

“Let me catch up. I want to know a lot of things about you too.”

_________________

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A Captive Heart (Deleted Scenes)

The first draft of this piece capped off at 31k words. These are the scenes I managed to save. Keep in mind, these are being presented as unedited so expect to see typos. One of the things I will tell my editors is to make the story readable. Don't worry about my feelings or deleting scenes. It was pretty normal that 5k was cut as during my World of Ruin series, at least 10k has been deleted or rearranged. Please do not read this post if you have not read the entire story as it contains spoilers.

Salve Regina did not have any deleted scenes since it was a last-minute story that I wrote. You can definitely see the difference when I have more time to think about the story.

Chapter 1:

Regis lamented over his son’s health the more that the days had passed. It was a risk coming to Tenebrae, but he could think of no other options for help when Noctis had slipped in his coma. Thankfully he had woken from it, but there still appeared to be something wrong with him. On the balcony overlooking the city, he stared into the tiny silhouettes of the people going about their day without a care in the world. He wished he could have been more carefree like them. Everyday was like walking on eggshells. He and Sylva had been friends in the distant past. Niflheim’s occupation of the region had limited their contact.

Aldercapt had been a man of greed. His reign had been one stained in bloodshed and heartbreak with the evolving magitek troops he had produced. The rumor was that there was someone within his court that was responsible for the sudden production of the inhuman creations. A human or daemon… it was hard to say at this point. What Regis did know was that in the last twenty years, there had been strides made from Niflheim that caused the barrier protecting Lucis to grow ever smaller.

Regis glanced at the ring of the Lucii. His forebears aided him as much as they could to drive away the onslaught time and time again but the price the ring demanded was a high one. That is why the King had gone through desperate strides to see that Noctis would get better, even if that meant being in enemy territory. Most of the retinue that had joined him had gone back to Lucis and only a handful remained behind to not cause attention to be drawn to Sylva while she did her best to heal Noctis. In his heart, the King wished for the illness Noctis seemed to suffer from to pass quickly but a part of him wondered if the daemon attack had taken more from his son than he could fathom.

Chapter 2:

Regis found himself unable to sleep the past few weeks. Speaking to Sylva had confirmed to him that the daemon attack might have damaged Noctis in a way that was hard for even the Oracle to heal. He had thought the worst of it had been over when Noctis came out of his coma, but perhaps it was just a prelude. When the boys had been settled for bed, the King had taken leave to the gardens with Clarus at his side.

A part of him was still suspicious of the daemon attack. He had known that Niflheim was making strides in their magitek production the last twenty years. Why that had been so had been bothersome to the King and his council. The war with the other nation had always been bloody with Aldercapt’s family refusing to stop it’s aggressive expansion in Eos. And then there was the crystal which they seemed to both admire, fear, and be jealous that such a power was out of their control.

But Regis, like his father before him, refused to give into Niflheim’s demands. There had been concessions made that had unfortunately given Niflheim more influence over what was once Lucian territory but they were still waging war desperately trying to drive the enemy back. What hope he had of ending the war seemed to be only a fairytale. Noctis was destined to continue this struggle, much to Regis’s disappointment.

That was why it was alarming that it seemed that Noctis seemed to be the target. No doubt it would hurt Regis, but also put him at greater risk since that was his only son. Regis could only hope that Noctis would pull through, whatever was wrong with him. “Clarus,” He spoke to his friend. “Do you think this is the right path to take?”

The Shield considered his words. “It is not my place to say your Highness.”

Wedding Crashers:

Even if it was in the early morning, Aranea always stopped by the same bar, at the same time. She wasn’t sure when the ritual started, but she, Biggs, and Wedge, always ate together before proceeding to their business at the Empire. As she walked in today though, there was a hole that filled in the pit of her stomach as she sat in the barstool, right in the middle of the men. The bartender, an old guy around 70, gave a nod and set a glass in front of her before pouring orange juice in it. “Usual?” His gruffled voice muttered behind the heavy gray mustache.

“Please.” Aranea said before he disappeared into the back to get her order ready.

“Should’ve ordered something different.” Biggs said as he lit the tip of his cigarette. Sure will be reassigned after the wedding day is announced.

“Feels strange.” Wedge admitted. “Thought I would resent those brats being their personal babysitters... but they were both good people.”

“Don’t tell me you are getting sentimental?” Aranea mused with an arched brow.

“Naw… it’ll be nice to take to the skies again.” Wedge replied.

“Agreed, much prefer it. We were meant for the sky.” Biggs said.

Aranea had to agree with them. That is where the three of them met together when they had signed up for the job. It was so fun being able to see all of Eos just outside of their window. She grabbed her glass before taking a drink out of it. The acidic burn of the orange juice stung going down, but she kept chugging it until nothing was left. “Humph, another era for Niflheim.”

“His Radiance certainly played his cards right.”

That made the commodore laugh softly. “Guess he did…” Too well. From there the trio grew silent as they continued to small talk about what would be next for them. Eventually the bartender came back with toast, eggs, and bacon for three of them as they ate breakfast together. Aranea didn’t finish her meal much to Biggs and Wedge’s surprise.

“You okay Lady A?” Biggs asked.

Aranea nodded before glancing down at the unfinished plate. “Yeah, guess I just got a lot on my mind.” She reached into her wallet throwing out enough bills to cover their meals and left a generous tip for the bartender. “Guess we better get ready to go.” All three stood up walking out of the bar. She readied herself to go to the castle while Biggs and Wedge headed to the aircraft hold to delegate security for the coming wedding. Before they parted the commodore couldn’t help but speak to her friends. “Biggs… Wedge. It’s been great knowing you.”

The pair looked at each other before chuckling softly. “Sure you haven’t been hittin’ the bottles Ms?” Biggs said with that goofy grin on his face. They knew that Aranea never drank for she had always been one to know what was going on around her. Biggs always said eventually he’d get her drunk one of these days. He hadn’t succeeded in the past ten years though.

Aranea forced herself to laugh. “Maybe a little bit. See you guys.” Although in the bottom of her heart this moment was the last time she would see them.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

Titus walked into the Lucis council chamber early in the morning. It was Prince Noctis’s eighteenth birthday, and today was the day that Regis was dreading. Aldercapt had wasted no time in getting the date set up for the wedding the moment Noctis had turned of age. His Radiance had assumed that Regis would try something if the wedding day was extended longer… given how the council had been behaving the last few months, Aldercapt had been right.

Stil he had been unable to figure out just who was feeding the council information about the Prince’s movements. But he had gotten better about covering up his emotions when it was clear that sensitive information about the Prince was delivered. Whoever it was had been sly, always staying out of reach of Titus’s grasp and slipping away. It was hard to pin down who it was since whoever was feeding the court information wasn’t coming directly to the citadel to deliver the information. From what he could tell, the intel was spot on. Between them knowing Aldercapt’s schedule, times where the military cabinet would be attending meetings, or even when they were not in Niflheim, it was always accurate. Whoever it was, Titus was managing to stay one step ahead of them by abruptly changing plans or cancelling meetings to subvert a way to leave Noctis vulnerable. So far, he had been successful, but by now, the mole knew that there was a mole in Lucis which was making things more complicated. Titus was hoping that the mole would surface soon. His affairs at Niflheim had kept him from learning about the secret ops mission that Clarus was overseeing. Until the wedding day was taken care of, Titus was on leave giving him the opportunity to play his role as Drautos.

Lucis had to make their move soon else they would be subservient to Niflheim. That was why he was counting on something big happening during the small window where Noctis turned 18 and he produced an heir. It was a critical time for both sides, and it might have been time to cut his ties from Lucis completely. His only regret was the same one he had ten years ago, he couldn’t be the one to thrust his sword in Regis’s heart.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

“You won’t be able to do this on your own!” Noctis cried out.

She agreed with the Prince, but it was irrelevant. Everyone had gambled on this to work and so she could only press forward. “I said go! I can’t fight them and protect you brats!” She shouted pointing the spear at them to make her point clear.

Ignis hesitated, but pulled Noctis up. “We have to go Noct…” He said softly, eyeing the street and where the circled area was. Almost there… he hoped whatever was there was useful.

Aranea continued to destroy the units as they continued to deploy from the drop ship. “I’ve gotta take those damn things out.”. Charging her Stoss Spear, she pressed the tip of it into the ground using the momentum of the energy to propel her forward. She landed on the roof of the homes watching as the drop ships descended lower. “Perfect.” She said jumping rooftop to rooftop to close the distance in between them. She was thankful that her time in the sky was helpful in this situation.

The MTs might have been up to date with the constant upgrades and data supplied by Verstael, but the drop ship models were ones that had a few decades behind. The newer models were sent to battles, and the older ones were stationed within the city. They might not have been as fast, but the older drop ships didn’t have to be since this was the capital and it was always heavily guarded. It was an exploit that Aranea had hoped would happen. The engine was easier to get to in the older models. The glowing energy radiating from the hull gave away their location. Charing her spear, she moved herself closer to it before striking the engine with the tip. Several explosions followed before she had to jump away. The ship started to descend, and Aranea grit her teeth praying that the people below would hear the sound of the ship and evacuate the area safely. A subsequent crash and explosion followed, yet Aranea pressed on. She couldn’t worry about the casualties or damage now, there were two more ships that needed to be downed. She did the same maneuver as before and a second drop ship fell from the sky. The last one, was a bigger model, and one that had her heart skip a beat. The emblem off to the side was unmistakable. Glauca’s personal ship.

She stopped to catch her breath as more MTs dropped out of the General’s ship surrounding her. The searchlight was steady on her from Glauca’s ship and her mouth pressed together seeing that familiar sight of bluish metal and ominous red jump out of the drop ship. The impact of Glauca’s fall had the concrete a few feet from him disintegrate into shattered pieces of rocks. “Aranea Highwind…” The voice boomed. “All this time… you were the traitor in our midst.”

To that the commodore laughed softly. “Well what can I say? Guess I have a soft spot for kids.”

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

“-I said just do it!” Verstael snarled watching the soldier cringe from his tone. “If the General or Aldercapt have an issue with it... they can speak to me personally. Make sure he is given a sedative to keep him knocked out.” No, he didn’t even want anyone seeing this boy and he covered up the boy’s face still speaking. “Take care of him… now.”

“Y-yes sir!” The soldier moved down and began to tend to the Lucian.

When Verstael was sure that he got the point across he was already aiming for the direction of his lab. “That boy…” He murmured, unable to get the image of his face out of his head. The features were unmistakable. As a scientist, he didn’t believe in fate or luck. Yet for once… he was at a loss as to how to deal with the situation. A DNA test needed to be done first to verify his thoughts, but deep down he already knew why that soldier looked so damn familiar.

Aftermath:

There had always been rumors about the King’s health. The access to the armiger did have it’s limitations along with the power of the kings. Prompto had never seen Regis use it first hand, but he knew that each time Regis blessed a Crownsguard or Kingsglaive with the power of the armiger, he lost precious time on his life. It was why the King had always described this mission as “be all to end all”. Of course Noctis being prisoner for as long as he had been was something that Regis had always wanted to change, but the cost… he had no idea it would be taken this far.

“You have nowhere to go now boy.” The voice said softly. “But worry not, you are in the place you are supposed to be.”

Prompto grit his teeth thrashing against his bonds. “I kneel before no king but Regis Lucis Caelum and his son Noctis Lucis Caelum!”

“Who is dead.” The voice reminded him. “And as for that brat… well you might have him back but even the company of your best doctors will not erase ten years under our care.” Of course he didn’t know that for sure but… they still had something that the Prince wanted. “Regardless of that… I must undo the damage that your mother has done to you. It is the only way you will be pardoned for your crimes.”

Prompto froze at the mention of his mother. Why did someone from Niflheim seem to speak so formally. No… it was a trick. The gunner laughed softly. “Is this your idea of an interrogation? Making up stories to think I’ll take the bait?” He heard a door opening behind him, but he couldn’t even turn to see who had come into the room. “You’re really bad at this…”

“Had it been anyone else, I might not have pressed the issue. But you and I… share a history together.”

Prompto didn’t recognize the voice at all though. Not wishing to give the man a reason to start his torture, he opted to keep the man talking for now. “I know no one from Niflheim.” He spat, the malicus was clear, the things that he had seen growing up, the people that suffered because of their magitek were burned into his brain. “I’m a proud Lucian! Never would I apologize to Niflheim scum!”

“That is no way to speak of the land of your birth, Prompto.”

The gunner’s breath hitched when the man said his name. He could have blamed it on his ID being taken, or even the Crownsguard uniform but he knew that all officers that had been tasked with this operation had all of their personal belongings left back home. So with that knowledge in the back of his mind… how had this man figured out his name? Now he was trying to look at the figure from his peripheral vision.

“It seems I’ve gotten your attention now.” The voice mused. “I’m glad she didn’t change your name. You were born in these halls, I held you in my hands. You were destined to be a scientist and know the best of cutting edge technology. But your mother… a coward unwilling to embrace the power of my research took you and fled. I had wondered where she had taken you too.” He snorted. “Lucis would have been the last place I expected.” But in hindsight it did make the most sense.

“Who…. who the hell are you?” Prompto choked out. The man finally stood in front of him and what he saw made his face pale as he came face to face with a man that looked so much like him. The freckles dotting his face, the blonde hair, the blue eyes burning back at him.

Verstael summoned a gun from his own armiger. Unlike Prompto’s weapons though, the magic that came from it was glowing red rather than blue. He pointed the barrel at Prompto’s face wrestling with what to do about the situation. “Hello... my son.”

[pars-ley]

Until Tomorrow | Part one

Pairing: Taehyung x reader

Genre: Romance / friendship/ comedy

Rating: M (mentions of sex)

Word Count:  7158

Summary: You’re a happily single magazine editor in London, that is, until you’re set up with a handsome musician, who’s not exactly forthcoming about being in the biggest boy group in the world. But with your days together numbered, will this blossom into something more or crash land, leaving your heart broken. 

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! Are you OK?” I ask mortified, eyes raking over him to assess any damage I might have caused from shoving into him. I put my hand out to help him up, he takes it; jumping quickly from the ground and putting a hand out stopping his friends from interfering, both of them fussing over him. “I’m fine, I'm fine, honestly, no harm done.” He says smiling, dimples appearing in both his cheeks as he dusts himself off.

I open my mouth to speak but no sound comes out; I suddenly notice how handsome he is and I'm slightly taken aback by it. And not the usual type of handsome either; when you see a good looking guy and once he’s walked past you turn to sneak another look at him. No, this is much more than that. He is almost ‘break your neck to turn and stare until he’s completely out of your sight’ handsome. For a moment I wonder if perhaps he’s a model.

“Are you OK?” He asks snapping me out of my train of thought.

“Yes, sorry.” I reply, shaking my head. “That guy walked straight into me and I just couldn’t steady myself in time.” The man in question was half way down the street, almost out of sight, no apology or even a glance in our direction after bowling me over and into this guy.

He puts his hands up towards me. “Hey, don’t worry. I saw what happened, I know it wasn’t your fault, you don’t have to explain.”

I breathe out relieved. Smoothing down my trouser suit and gaining my composure back, I have a thought. “Please, can I buy you guys coffee to apologise? They do pretty good ones here.” I point to the shop this had all happened outside.

He shakes his head. “No, no that’s not necessary.” He pauses for a moment. “How about I buy you a coffee to apologise on behalf of that rude man.”

I frown, that didn’t seem fair. “Oh no, I couldn’t.”

“Please, I insist.” He pushes with a gentle smile.

For some reason I found myself too polite to turn him down again. Even though I only asked out of being polite and genuinely wanting to do something by way of an apology. But there were worse ways to spend the morning than having a drink with a handsome stranger. I return his smile and nod. “If you insist, i’ll have tea please.”

To my surprise his two friends don’t join us; sitting at a separate table, which then has me worrying they all believe this to be a date. I hadn’t thought of it that way at all, but am now wondering if that’s how I came across.

“So, you don’t sound like you’re local to here?” I ask, taking a sip of my strong tea. “Your accent is slightly American, no?”

He laughs, dimples deepening. “No, I’m from South Korea but I taught myself English by watching American TV shows.”

“Seriously?” I chuckle, leaning back in my chair with surprise.. “That’s quite impressive, any I might know?”

“Thank you. Um, friends?”

I nod enthusiastically. “I love that show, could it be any funnier.” I quote Chandler's character, hoping he gets the reference. He does thankfully and laughs.

“Chandlers the best.” 

I agree. “So, what’s it like in South Korea? I’ve heard some parts are beautiful. It’s on my list of places to travel to.”

He nods, swallowing a gulp of his coffee. “You should definitely go. I mean, I think it’s pretty amazing but I’m biased.”

“True. Are you on holiday over here then?”

“No, I’m here for work actually.” He doesn’t elaborate and so I'm intrigued what this handsome stranger could do for work.

“And what is work exactly, if you don’t mind my asking?”

He hesitates for a moment and stares at me, searching my face for something. “I’m a musician.”

“Ah,” It all makes sense, someone as good looking as him would of course be in the entertainment industry. “That must be exciting.”

He gives me a one sided smile. “It’s a lot of hard work but it’s very rewarding, the travelling is a plus too. What do you do for work?”

“I’m an Editor at a magazine. Not as glamorous as your job, but i enjoy it.” I take another long sip of my tea. 

“That must be interesting, do you get to see lots of celebrities?”

I shrug. “Not really, I’m more behind the scenes, telling people what to do. I’m mainly in charge of what goes in the magazine and making sure my team has done their part. Occasionally, I might get to attend a photo shoot or an interview but it’s rare.”

“Is that the job you always wanted to do?” He asks curiously.

I smile. “No. When I was little I wanted to be a singer actually,” I laugh, “but unfortunately I wasn’t blessed with that talent. Then I actually wanted to be an artist.”

“Oh really?” He perks up, eyes on me, focused on my answers. “That’s interesting. So how did you end up being an Editor?”

“I couldn’t afford art school and I needed a job. I had an English degree and I started off as an assistant straight out of college. I proofread my way up to Editor, so to speak. Luckily, I still get to be quite creative so it keeps me satisfied.”

He nods, understanding. He studies me with avid interest. 

“So are you sightseeing at the moment?” I ask, looking away from his curious gaze.

He nods, “Yes, we were just exploring. It’s not the first time we’ve been here but there’s so much to see in London.”

“That is so true. I’ve lived here my whole life but there’s always new things to be discovered. Museums, galleries, art exhibitions, if you’re into that kind of stuff.”

He sits up a little straighter, eyes eager. “Actually I am. Is there anywhere you could recommend?”

I think for a moment before inspiration strikes me; slightly unsure if this is a good idea but willing to give it a shot. “There’s an art exhibition happening, it starts this evening actually and it goes on for two weeks. I have a membership to the gallery so I get in regardless and two of my friends were supposed to come tonight, they can’t make it unfortunately but they gave me their tickets to try and find someone else to take their place... if you’re interested that is?” I offer. 

Doubt creeps into my mind when I see his impassive expression and after staring at me blankly for a few moments, he then says, “Interested in what?”

I smile, amused. “Coming to the art exhibition?”

He laughs and shakes his head, as if at his own stupidity. “Oh, of course! I would love to and I have just the friend that would appreciate it also. Please, let us know how much to give you for the tickets.”

“Nothing. My friends got a deal on the tickets and they weren’t expensive so they don’t want anything, don’t worry.”

He looks at me quizzically and then raises an eyebrow. “I’m sure I’ll think of some way to repay you.”

“Why don’t we just call it even for me bumping into you and knocking you over. And then you buying me coffee.” I laugh. “Sound fair?”

He thinks about it, pursing his lips, then nods. 

“Good.” I give him a run down of where the exhibition is so we can meet up there later. “If you give me your number, that way I can let you know when I’m on my way and where to meet me?”

He nods and types it into my phone as well as his name. Realising only then that I hadn’t even asked for it.

I read it from my phone. “Kim Namjoon?” I ask, making sure I've pronounced it correctly.

He smiles and nods. “Namjoon is fine.”

“I’m Y/N.” I say standing up and pulling my handbag over my shoulder. We shake hands; my grip much firmer than his.”I’ll see you there later, nice to meet you.”

He smiles and bows to me. “You too, Y/N. And thank you again, you’ve been very kind.”

We gave each other one last wave as I left, continuing on my journey to work. 

Luckily, I only had a late morning meeting to attend, getting to leave work early on a Monday is a reason to get up and face the day if ever I heard one. 

After two hours of sitting there listening, making notes and nodding, the meeting was done and so was I. I head out to the local shops uptown, running a few errands like picking up two new trouser suits for work. I opt for a pale blue one and concrete grey, cooler tones or black have always been my preference. I then pick up a new pair of black heeled sandals which I saw advertised in our own magazine and instantly loved. I grab some more of my face wash, moisturiser and some shampoo; everything running out at once and my shopping spree is done. As I stroll down the streets of Central London, I look around at the tall buildings, the lines of shops and the crowds of busy people and a feeling of appreciation swells inside me, living in such a thriving city. There’s so much beauty to see whether it be in the buildings, or the views, or the entertainment that scattered the streets. There’s nowhere like London and I couldn't imagine living anywhere else. I walk past a young woman busking, playing her guitar and singing, I pause and listen to her for a moment. Her voice is pretty incredible; she had a very soothing tone. I watch the emotion in her eyes as the song she’s singing about love and loss clearly resonates and means something to her. For a moment it resonates with me too but I push it away, not delving into the memories. I take what change I have in my purse and place it in her guitar case, she smiles at me and nods thanks, i return it before continuing on my travels.

Freedom on a Monday, just who did i think i am; gallivanting around town instead of being at work. If I’m being honest, my workload is so huge I probably should have stayed in my office, or at least been heading home to attempt to do some work. But the idea of being swamped for the next couple of weeks while my colleague, Amy, is away on bereavement leave, had me wanting to enjoy it the best I could. I felt awful for Amy; losing a parent is devastating but I hate instead of getting someone to temporarily replace her, it’s split between myself and Chris, an assistant Editor. It must be harder for him however as he typically has a lot of work bumped down to him from more senior members. Who knows, maybe there’ll be a promotion in it for him.

I’d missed lunch so I decided to pop into my friend's Japanese restaurant which is only a couple of tube stations away. He’s the head chef in the small, family run business and always accommodating. He greeted me with his usual warm smile as I entered. I head over towards the stools at the counter where he’s cooking in plain view.

“Y/n! And to what do I owe the pleasure of the most beautiful girl in town?” He calls loud enough for everyone in the restaurant to hear.

I wink. “Lunch, with the biggest flirt and the best chef in town, obviously Yoshi.” I beam at him taking a seat directly in front of him.

I’d met Yoshi at college; I was studying Art and English and he had been studying hospitality and catering. We hung out nearly everyday on campus and with one of the most wicked sense of humours he had quickly become my best friend. There was a time, at the start of our friendship, where he had tried his luck like a typical teenage boy and asked me out on a date but thankfully, my refusal had not affected our blossoming camaraderie, thankfully and he’s flirted with me for laughs ever since.

Since starting work we’d seen less of each other but still made sure to talk frequently.

“I sincerely hope you’re not using and abusing me?” He asks feigning shock. “On second thoughts, I sincerely hope you will.” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively as he leans over the counter, making me chuckle.

“In your dreams lover boy.” I slap him playfully on the arm. 

“You’re usual, petal?” He asks, preparing ingredients to cook my favourite dish.

I nod. “Yes please. So how have things been?” I ask glancing over the menu anyway. 

“Pretty good. We’re getting steady customers, busy afternoons and evenings and we’re making all our payments on time, things are improving and looking up.” He hesitates. “...And did i mention i’m seeing someone?”

My head snaps up at this information. “As in a singular person? Just one?”

He pulls a face at me. “Yes just one, it’s not a big deal y/n.”

“On the contrary.” I cut him off. “This is huge news. My little slut of a friend actually liking someone and becoming...dare i even say it...monogamous.” I gasp, placing the back of my hand across my forehead, mock fainting. 

He grimaces. “Alright, I wouldn’t go that far, we’re just taking it slow and seeing how things go. But yes...i do like her...at the moment.”

I laugh at that. “And how long have you been seeing her?”

He shrugs, “About a month.”

My mouth pops open and makes a silent ‘wow’. “How is she? You know....in the sack?” I tease.

His cheeks blush. “What’s with all the questions, am i under interrogation?” 

He is and he knew full well this was our usual back and forth when one of us mentioned a date. The fact he’s dodging my question completely means this is a lot more than he’s letting on. My jaw practically hit the counter. “You haven’t slept with her yet!? In a month? That’s very uncharacteristic of you.”

“Yea well, it just hasn't happened yet, OK?” He sighs giving into my questioning.

“Hey Yoyo, stop being so steely.”I give him a playful glare. “It’s OK to have feelings for someone, it’s bloody normal. So don’t be embarrassed, at least not with me.”

“You’re right.” He relents, sighing. “I just really like her and I don’t want to mess it up. I’m in uncharted territory right now, some advice would be appreciated.”

I look up at him. “My advice? It’s not complicated, just be yourself, who wouldn’t love you.”

He rolls his eyes at me and laughs.

“Hey, I'm being serious. Just be honest, women appreciate that. Besides, there’s nothing wrong with who you are, so don’t pretend to be someone you’re not. I know you do that a lot.”

He nods slowly, agreeing. “That I do, OK you got me there. Be myself, OK. I can do that.”

“Does this mystical lady have a name?” I ask.

He smiles to himself. “Jenna.”

I nod. “And...is there a picture?”

He looks up at me and pauses, I raise my eyebrows expectantly. He sighs again, relenting, shoulders slumping as he takes his phone from behind the counter. He places it down in front of me, taps a few buttons then turns it round to face me. He washes his hands and continues cooking my meal whilst I look at the illuminated picture on the screen. She is gorgeous; tanned, freckles, with shoulder length, dark curls and perfect soft features. She had a nose stud and what looked like no makeup, she’s a natural beauty. 

“She’s beautiful, Yoyo.”

He grins proudly. “She’s fun too. You’d really like her.”

“Well then I hope to meet her soon.” I reply as he hands me a glass of water. “And I can give her the best friend ‘don’t you hurt him’ chat.” I put my fist up in warning and he laughs.

“God, please no. So what about you? Seeing anybody?” He asks, raising an eyebrow at me.

I roll my eyes. “No. Next question please.”

He shakes his head at me but doesn’t argue, as he hands over the steaming bowl of Pad Thai. “Fine. How’s work?”

I shrug, tucking into my perfectly presented meal. “Same as usual, except busier. I’m covering for Amy for the next two weeks, so I have double the workload. “I pull a face. “So my social life is going to take an immediate dive.”

He laughs. “What social life?” He steals a bit of chicken off my plate and throws it into his mouth. I glare at him, unamused. 

“That exhibition tonight is going to be my last bit of fun for a couple of weeks.”

“And not everyone would call that fun. Interesting, definitely. Educational, for sure. Compelling even...but fun? No.” He retorts.

I stick my tongue out at him. 

“Oh speaking of,” he says, grabbing another piece of chicken while I swat him away with my chopsticks. “Did you find someone to have those tickets?”

“Actually I did, this morning as a matter of fact.” I chew what’s in my mouth and swallow. “I met a guy, quite literally bumped into him and we got chatting over coffee. He’s a tourist and asked about any recommendations for museums and art so I offered the tickets to him.”

Yoshi looks at me, suspiciously. “That sounds a lot like a date y/n.” Raising an eyebrow at me, he leans his elbow on the counter, resting his face in his palm.

“I can assure you, it wasn’t. We just had a friendly chat, over a friendly beverage, that’s all. Nothing more to it. He’s bringing a mate with him tonight, so it’s just going to be a very friendly evening.” I accentuate the words on purpose hoping he’ll back off.

He raises his hands in surrender. “OK, if you say so, let's just hope mystery man is on the same page you are.”

I roll my eyes. We continue catching up for a little while after I finish my meal. We make plans for the coming weekend to hang out at his place for a movie night, to give me a break from my work. We say goodbye and I'm off home thinking about what to wear tonight. 

I remove my jacket as soon as I'm on the tube, the summer heat sweltering underground. I stand by the window at the back of the carriage, welcoming the slight breeze I feel. I truly hated being on the underground, the hot sweaty bodies packed tight in each compartment, it was unbearable sometimes and we weren’t even at the height of summer yet. Luckily, I only had a few stops to go before exiting as quickly as I could, back on the streets.

It’s only a short walk from the station before I’m climbing up the steps to my apartment, wiping the sweat from the back of my neck. The summer evening air is muggy making wearing work attire quite uncomfortable. As soon as I’m in and the door shuts behind me, I strip out of my trouser suit completely.

I turn on my laptop to check my emails before starting some of the workload. Once I’d sent a few urgent emails and documents off, I opt for a nice, cool shower, hating to admit the nerves that were creeping in at the idea of meeting two strangers tonight. My stomach was in knots. I was mostly a confident, friendly person; engaging with people is something I had no problem with, especially in a work environment but in this kind of meeting it was easy for me to get nervous and clam up. I can sometimes struggle to keep conversation flowing with new people which was the main reason I hated dating so much. I just find it all so awkward; the conversation, getting to know each other, asking the same mundane questions. Let alone the first kisses, first time you have sex, first time meeting the parents, it was all just a little overwhelming for me nowadays. 

I quickly dry myself off, the cool air on my damp skin feels welcoming but I don't have time this evening to relax and enjoy it. I dress in a thin, black maxi dress; something light and comfortable. I add my silver moon necklace and my little silver studs that decorate my numerous ear piercings. I quickly brush my teeth, add a touch of mascara and a sweep of lip gloss. I pull on my converse, chuck my phone in my handbag and grab my denim jacket and keys before heading out the door. I double check I still have the tickets in my bag and I decide to send a quick text to Namjoon just to check if they’re still coming.

Unknown [18.34]: Hey Namjoon, just checking we’re still OK to meet tonight at the museum?

Realising I didn't give him my number, I quickly type out another message.

Unknown [18.34]: It’s Y/n btw. In case anyone else is giving away free tickets to a museum today

I cringe at myself and how not smooth I am, then remember this isn’t a date so i shouldn’t be worried. As I walk toward the tube station I feel my phone vibrate in my bag, my stomach turns as I pull it out and read the message. 

Namjoon [18.37]: LOL! Of course, we are on our way. See you soon

I breathe a sigh of relief that they are coming, then my shoulders get tense and my stomach knots again. I’m meeting up with two strangers in a museum...this won’t be awkward at all. 

I walk along the back streets I know so well to get to the museum. When I’m around the corner from it, I take a few gulps of water from the bottle I brought with me and return it to my bag. I use these few moments to take a breather, wiping my sweaty palms on my dress. Taking a few deep breaths I head to the entrance of the museum and scan the small crowd outside. I spot Namjoon a mile off. He stands out slightly, not only because he’s handsome but also because he’s so tall. One might even use the word gangly; all limbs but in an endearing sort of way.

I start to head over as my eyes sweep the faces of the men he’s with. The two men I saw him with outside the coffee shop this morning are here and I wonder how they’re expecting to get into the exhibition. I start replaying the conversation I had with Namjoon about the tickets. I did say I only had two, right? I’m sure I did. Just like I was sure he had only mentioned bringing one friend with him tonight. I can see he has someone else with him, a third person with dark, slightly dishevelled hair and wearing a long brown coat but he has his back to me.

Namjoon spots me and waves me over. As I begin to close the distance between us his friend turns to face me and it takes everything I have not to stumble as I walk. I thought Namjoon was handsome but his friend...his friend looks like an Adonis. He had the type of face that should be carved into a statue. His features; smooth, straight and perfect. When he looks away from me and back at Namjoon I feel slight heat in my cheeks as I approach them. He turns around and stands next to Namjoon, watching me as I approach.

“Glad you guys could make it.” I say, surprised my voice actually works. My mouth feels so dry suddenly, it’s hard to swallow.

“Glad you invited us.” Namjoon replies. 

I look at the two friends who were with him this morning and give them a polite wave. They smile and nod. 

“Don’t worry, they’re not joining us, they’re just our ride home.” Namjoon says as if he’s reading my mind, or perhaps my worried expression. “Y/n this is my friend Taehyung.” He looks at his friend. “This is Y/n.”

“Pleasure to meet you.” I say, the back of my neck prickling with heat and not just from the weather.

He stares at me long enough for me to start to feel embarrassed, until Namjoon nudges him in his side. That seems to snap him out of it, as he quickly bows, spluttering an apology. “It’s nice to meet you.” He says softly with a deeper voice than i was expecting.

I smile but look away as I feel a flush of crimson creep up my cheeks. I could feel his gaze on me which didn’t help. Never had I seen a man who’s looks and aura alone could hold my interest. 

“Thank you for inviting us.” He spoke slowly.

I meet his gaze again. “You’re welcome, it’s actually nice to be able to share this place with someone for a change.” I instantly want to tell myself to shut up and stop rambling.

Taehyung’s eyebrows rise, seeming surprised. “It would be a great place to bring a date, no?” 

I chew my bottom lip. “I don’t really date much to be honest.”

“Why not?” He frowns. His cheeks flush slightly as Namjoon nudges him in his side and he averts his eyes away from mine.

I hesitate for a moment, not wanting to sound any more pathetic than I feel. “I...I just don’t find that many people interesting. So many men I meet seem to be the same.” I shrug and play with the fabric on the skirt of my dress.

He nods, processing my words. “I understand.” He continues to stare at me, making my heart race a mile a minute.

“Maybe you’re looking in the wrong places.” Namjoon cuts in. I tear my gaze away from Taehyung to meet Namjoon’s amused expression. He raises an eyebrow at me, then darts his eyes between me and Taehyung, being about as subtle as a machine gun. I instantly feel hot at his implication, as I realise why he was so interested in bringing his friend here. I hate blind dates, hell, I hated dates so this was going to be nothing short of disaster.

“Shall we?” Namjoon gestures his palm towards the museum. I nod and lead the way. The two drivers stay where they are, as we walk up the large stone steps to the glass doors.

I show my membership card to the receptionist; Judy, and give her the pair of tickets. After our usual pleasantries she waves us in and we turn into the exhibition. Every wall had at least one piece of art whether it be paintings, photos, projectors. There are statues in the centre of the rooms, people surrounding them and studying them intently. I hang back a bit, letting Taehyung go ahead, ensuring he was out of ear shot as I slow my pace to meet Namjoon’s. 

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to set me up with your friend.” I ask side eyeing him.

He smirks. “See, pretty and smart.” He jokes, walking with both his hands held behind his back. “Go easy on him, he doesn’t date much either nowadays and he’s a little shy around women.”

“Wait,” I cut him off. “What makes you think he’s even going to be interested in me?” I wonder out loud.

He stops in front of me, his face serious. “One, I can’t see any reason why most men wouldn’t be interested, you've already caught the attention of quite a few men in here.”

I glance around, suddenly feeling self conscious, feeling as though all eyes in the room are on me.

“Two, I’ve known Taehyung for a long time, I know his type and I know what he likes and you are it. And three, you seem like a genuinely nice woman and I think you’ll be kind to him.” He shrugs.

I could feel my ears pink with embarrassment at everything he just said and I’m not sure what to say or do in response. 

“I don’t know much about you or your type,” He continues, “but I can already tell that you are attracted to him, so I’m checking that off the list. What I can tell you about him is even though he’s a little shy at first, once he opens up, he’s kind, gentle, funny, caring, fun, artistic and pure hearted. Any of those qualities unappealing to you?”

I shake my head unable to say anything; my mouth so dry from nerves I could hardly swallow, let alone speak. 

“Good, so you should go and talk to him and i’m going to look at this painting right over there.” He quickly disappears, walking backwards off through the crowd with a dimpled smile on his face. 

What on earth just happened? Was I just part of a drive by set up? I glance at Taehyung over by a set of photos, our eyes meet for a moment before he quickly looks away and focuses back on the portraits. Feeling awkward just standing here, I take a few deep breaths and stroll over to him. I fix my attention to the images in front of me, letting my eyes roam over each of them, before glancing at him out of the corner of my eye.

We stand there quietly before I’m the one to break the silence. “So, have you also been to London before?” I roll my eyes at my own mundane question. 

He nods. “Yes, this is my second time here.”

“Are you enjoying it so far?”

“Yes,I love London. I love the fashion, the art and the architecture. There’s so much to see.” 

“Yea, that’s true.” I fiddle with the hem of my dress. “Are you here for work also?”

He nods. “Yes, we don’t get much time to enjoy it though. I want to come back as a proper tourist someday.”

“Good idea, you probably still wouldn’t get to see everything you want; I’m still finding things all the time.” I smile and he mirrors it.

“Yes I can imagine, it’s a big place.” He leads me to another piece of artwork, a sculpture of a female face this time.

“Are you a musician like Namjoon?”

I see him tense up slightly from the corner of my eye. “Yes I am.”

“That’s pretty cool.” I can tell, like Namjoon, it’s something he doesn’t wish to divulge any more about.

“Yea it is, I guess. Namjoon tells me you work for a magazine?” He asks as we wander over to a projector piece, hundreds of images of faces flashing in a story like a flip book. 

“Yes, I’m an editor. Not as exciting as your profession but i enjoy it.” 

He turns his attention to me more. “That must be a lot of hard work?”

I nod slowly. “Yes, it can be very stressful at times but there’s something quite satisfying in it. Knowing that i’m putting together a form of entertainment and knowledge for people, I like that.”

He looks off thoughtful for a moment, “I’ve never thought of a magazine like that before but that’s a nice way to look at it.”

“Let me guess, you usually think of the celebrity tabloid gossip mags?” I ask, raising a questioning eyebrow. 

He smirks, “OK you got me there, i was.”

I laugh and tut at him. “I’m offended.” I mock, clutching my chest. He laughs at me, the breathy sound pleasing to the ear, distracting me to the way the veins in his neck bulge slightly as he does. 

“OK, my apologies.” He bows, teasing. 

“You’re forgiven, you may rise.” I laugh at his serious expression, unable to stop myself. 

We continue to stroll around the exhibition, Namjoon trailing behind, allowing us to talk. The conversation flowed easily, mostly random chat and art talk. I learned that like me he’s quite interested in art, he enjoys photography and Van Gogh’s starry night is his favourite painting.

“Have you been to the Van Gogh museum in Amsterdam? That was my favourite part of my trip there.” I recap.

He nods eagerly. “Yes! I went last year, it was my favourite part too. I did a lot of photography in Amsterdam actually, the views and structure of the place make it very easy to get good shots.”

“I’d love to see some of them sometime.” I say, my cheeks feeling warm as I fiddle with one of my fingernails

He turns to me, surprised and hopeful. “Does that mean you’d like to see me again?”

I thought about making a joke and teasing him but didn’t know him well enough to know how he could react, so i decided against it. 

“I would, yes.”

He has a boxy grin that spreads across his face and I can't help but let my gaze rake over him, taking in every detail. The way his dark, hooded eyes shrunk when he laughs, or how they looked around with so much awe and innocence any other time. The way his nose was perfectly straight and just a little bit shiny. The moles on the end of his nose and one on the edge of his bottom lip; the thought of kissing that mole on those flawless, angular lips crosses my mind but I push it away. I needed some air...and some holy water.

Once we’d looked at all the pieces, we make our way to the exit.

“I really enjoyed this exhibition, this museum is nice too.” Taehyung says as he rakes a hand through his dishevelled brown locks.

“Yea, I come here a lot. It’s where I come to think. Looking at the art helps me to clear my head. Helps me figure out my next move.” 

“Next move to what?” 

I shrug. “Just in life, you know, what i’m going to do next.”

“So what is your next move?” He raises an eyebrow at me and my stomach clenches at the sight. How can he make something so simple look so sexy?

“That was supposed to be my task for tonight.” I say unable to stop myself from smiling.

“And I'm distracting you from that?” He asks, smirking clearly knowing the answer.

I swallow nervously before saying. “You’re a welcome distraction.” I can hardly hear myself over my thundering heartbeat. I can’t believe I just said that. I’m about ready to run to the bathroom and flush my head down the toilet out of sheer embarrassment when I can feel his gaze on my face and I catch a glimpse of a smile and flushed cheeks as he turns his face away from me.

Once outside the cooler air hits and I slip on my jacket whilst we wait for Namjoon. 

“It’s a nice night.” Taehyung says as he leans on the wall, looking up at the now inky sky that mirrors in the river stretching out in front of us. 

“Yes, it is lovely.” I sigh after taking a deep breath of the cool night air. I hear a shutter sound in the silence, my eyes flicker over to him as I see his phone aimed at me.

He smiles, looking bashful. “I’m sorry, do you mind?” 

I shake my head, feeling my cheeks turn crimson and look back out over the still waters. 

A few more shutter sounds as he continues to take pictures of me. I’ve never been a model for anyone, in any way, shape or form so this concept is hard for me to grasp and not feel like a complete idiot. 

“The light is so perfect here, and you look very beautiful. I couldn’t not take the opportunity.” He says quietly as he leans across showing me his phone screen. His arm touches mine, the scent of him swirls around me, woody and yet floral. I focus back on the phone. I have to double take, the photo is breathtaking, it looks like it was from a professional photo shoot. The way the lighting touches my face, the reflection of the sky and the buildings in the river, it was the perfect portrait and something I'd gladly have hanging on my wall.

“Wow, that looks incredible.” I gasp. “You’ve made me look gorgeous.” 

“No, you do that on your own. Nothing to do with me I promise you. I just wish I had my proper camera with me.” He says quietly to me, only inches away from my face. I stare up at him, our eyes lock and I feel myself getting lost in his ebony pools. His fingers reach up and tuck a stray strand of my hair, blowing in the gentle breeze, behind my ear. I almost mechanically reach into his touch but manage to stop myself. What is it about him that makes me feel like I’m losing control over myself? I could feel the walls I've spent years building, falling down around me. What is it about this stranger?

“Can i see you tomorrow?” He says almost a whisper. His eyes still not leaving mine and his face still within reaching distance of my lips. 

It takes me a moment to realise what he’s said and as I think about his question, I can already feel like tomorrow is too long to wait. “Yes.” I let out a breathy reply, my heart pounding from his proximity. 

“Would you like to go out for dinner?” He asks hesitantly.

My stomach flutters with excitement. “Yes I would.” Unable to stop the smile spreading across my face I force my eyes away from his and down to the ground. He takes a step back, giving me a little more clarity. 

Namjoon comes bouncing down the steps outside the museum and over to us. “That was incredible. Thank you, y/n. You must let us do something to repay your kindness.”

I shake my head. “Absolutely not. It was my apology for knocking into you this morning. You agreed we were even.” 

“Namjoon, I’m going to make sure Y/n gets home safe.” Taehyung cuts in. 

“OK, sure, let’s go.” He replies looking over at they’re two escorts.

My heart drops, as lovely as Namjoon is, I was looking forward to the alone time with Taehyung. The two of them look out over the river, there seems to be a quiet exchange between them both, then Namjoon says into the silence, “You know, I'm actually feeling really tired.” He does an incredibly obvious fake yawn. “I’m just going to go back to the hotel, you guys go on. I’m really jet lagged.” He does a big noisy stretch; definitely over acting.

“Rest up Namjoon.” Taehyung says patting him on the shoulder.

“What about the car?” He asks.

“You take it. Don’t worry, we’ll be fine.” He replies and Namjoon nods, worry creasing his brow.

“Lovely to see you again, Namjoon. Maybe I’ll see you soon.” I say my goodbye.

“Yes, I hope so. Get home safe.” He smiles, dimples deepening.

“Sure thing.” I wave as I turn to Taehyung, who seems eager to get moving; his eyes wide and glistening. We head off to the main road and hail a cab. Once we’re in I give the driver my address and we set off.

“So where would you like to go tomorrow?” I ask.

He rubs the back of his neck. “I’m not well versed in food over here. Is there anywhere you’d recommend?” 

One place instantly comes to mind. Could I bring myself to take a date there knowing the embarrassment I would suffer? I thought of Yoshi and his delicious food, I thought of his annoying flirtatious personality and knew his cooking talent would outweigh anything negative about the experience. 

“Yea, I know a place.”

He smiles. “OK good. Shall I meet you there or come and pick you up?”

I think about the route from work and it would definitely be quicker for me to go from there. “I’ll send you the address later and meet you there, if that’s OK?” 

He nods. “Sure. I...don’t have any way of reaching you though.”

I smirk at his hesitant way of asking for my number. We exchange numbers and before I know it, we’re pulling up outside my apartment all too soon. He asks the driver to wait as he gets out and escorts me up the stone steps. 

“Thank you for tonight, I had a really lovely time.” He says into the quiet, his eyes burning into mine.

“So did I, thank you for coming.” I reply slowly, unable to hold his intense gaze for long.

A large part of me was hoping that he’d kiss me but I had to remind myself that this was only a first meeting, could I even call it a date? It felt like a date but we weren’t the only ones on it. A small part of me wanted to invite him inside and see where the night took us but I scowled at that and ignored that part. 

“Until tomorrow.” He says as he takes my hand in his and slowly brings it up to his mouth, eyes never once leaving mine. He gently presses his soft lips firmly onto the back of my fingers. My heart hammers in my chest and I have to control my breathing so not to embarrass myself and reveal the effect he has on me.

With that, he turns and he walks back to the cab and climbs in, as I stand there watching until the car is completely out of sight. I could still feel the heat from his lips on my hand, the breeze highlighting the slight wet mark that was left behind. I couldn’t stop the grin plastered on my face as I walk into my apartment, locking up behind me. In a daze, I hang up my coat and bag, taking out my phone and bringing it with me to where I collapse onto the sofa, clutching it to my chest. 

I already couldn’t wait to see him tomorrow, the thought of seeing him again bubbled in my stomach. I felt like a silly teenager. It had certainly been a long time since I had felt anything like this for anyone and did not intend for it to pass me by. Who knows how long he was over here for, it was a question I had avoided purposefully, but I planned to make the most of it, however long it may be.

Note: I do not own the photos. Credit: BTS Twitter and visitlondon.com

[happykawa]

Hey!!! I love your Writing! Are you planning on doing a part two to Lukewarm? Keep writing, your good at it! :D

I’m glad you enjoyed it hehe 😬

You remember how tough it was to get over Kageyama. 

The first week, you had to actively suppress the instinct to grab your phone and call him. You had to change the places you went to avoid 2 things: Tobio and your memories together. That meant finding a new gym, a new coffee shop, a new bookstore, a new everything. You also made it a goal to stop calling him Tobio. Took you 2 months before you broke it.

Hitoka was ever accommodating, and you really did appreciate her. But losing Kageyama not only meant losing your boyfriend, but losing your best friend as well. So you had to grieve for the loss of both on your own.

Hinata kept you updated on Kageyama, like you had requested him. It was to make sure that he didn’t do anything stupid. You were thankful for it. However small it was, it kept you at peace during times that your mind decided to venture into those dark corners.

After 6 months, you got promoted to Editor-In-Chief but in a different branch. There was a whole goodbye party. It was the last time you saw the team together in one room, and it was the last time you saw Kageyama. 

Your first day at work did not go so well. The previous E.I.C was well-loved, and it showed. No one would talk to you outside of business. It was a completely different environment compared to the last place you worked in. Each decision you made was second-guessed, and they took every chance they got to undermine you. 

Everyone saw you as this cruel woman from the city who overtook their beloved boss’ job. The employees were cold towards you, and for the first few days you stayed there, you felt so lonely. 

You cried yourself to sleep each night. 

The second week, you couldn’t take it anymore. A mistake an employee made pushed back the publishing dates by over a week. He blamed it on you and being as unpopular as you already were, your superiors believed him. You got reprimanded and a pay-cut for it. 

You landed on your bed, quietly sniffling. The last hour of crying in your car really did a number on you. Your whole being may as well be numb with how you were feeling,

You had to talk to someone, you just knew it. Otherwise, you didn’t know what you were going to do. It was one thing to feel lonely but not alone, but to feel lonely and be alone was worse. 

You turned your phone on, trying to control your sniffling as you pressed 2 on your speed dial.

It rang 3 times before the owner picked it up.

“Hello?”

“To–Kageyama?” You stuttered, mentally cursing yourself for almost calling him by his first name. 

“Y–Y/N?”

Hearing his cool voice was like a splash of cold water under the drying heat, especially as he said your first name. Your brain was screaming at you to stop, to hang up, but you couldn’t care less. Not when you were this vulnerable. You allowed yourself this brief moment of weakness.

“Ye-yeah. H-hey.” You couldn’t stop your sniffling and hiccupping, and you couldn’t be bothered to try harder. You were simply focused on the sound of his voice.

“H-hey. How are–are you crying?” You heard the surprise in his voice shake off, to be completely replaced with worry. You felt a little relief, though you don’t admit that to yourself.

You tried to stop your sniffling, to no avail. “N-no,” Sniff. “I-I’m not–” Sniff. “–crying.” Sniff.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Did you? Just thinking about it made you want to sob again. Not to mention you were talking to your ex, when you both clearly had not yet moved on.

“No, no, I just… I wanted to hear your voice.” You hoarsely whispered. You felt tears welling in your eyes, but this time, it was for him. The past suddenly flashed back to you, and you couldn’t help but shed a tear. 

“Can you just talk? Maybe tell me about your day?” You asked. A fear lingered within you, that he might not comply. It was well within his rights. You were the one who broke up with him in the first place.

You heard shuffling on the other side And then silence. “It’s completely fine if you don’t. I understand.” 

You slightly panicked. Had you crossed the line? Had you overstepped your boundaries? Maybe. You had no right–

“Sorry, just got out of the court and there’s bad signal inside.” You heard him opening his car and starting his engine, followed by a loud beep. He had connected you to his car.

You opened your mouth to speak, but were gently interrupted by Tobio. “We had a game today. We were up against Bokuto-san. He alone got 7 points. We lost the first set, but we managed with the 2nd and 3rd. They were incredibly strong. It just made me realise how I’m barely past the starting point.”

Tobio continued to ramble on and on about volleyball, and at certain points you gave short replies like “really?” or “no way.”, just to assure him you were still there.

Tobio finally ran out of things to tell you, and a short silence ensued, to be broken by him. “Wanna talk about it now?”

Another silence. You weren’t sure whether you could take it, whether you should take it. It was a rabbit hole you weren’t sure you wanted to go down in.

Could you take it? This was relationship relapse. That resilience that took months spent denying yourself your phone would be threatened. Was it a risk you were willing to take?

‘Oh, to hell with it.’

You gulped down the bile in your throat and prepared yourself. Once the gates were opened, they couldn’t be forcefully closed. After a few minutes of silence, you finally spoke up.

“I hate my job. I mean, I love what I do, I truly do, but everyone hates me. No one respects me, and they all see me as this city bitch who took a job away from the previous boss. And today was just the worst.” You were on the verge of crying, but you were in the middle of the rant. It was the first time in weeks that you’d been able to let your feelings out, and it was a dam that had been opened and could not be closed.

“An employee of mine made a mistake with the scheduling and blamed it on me. I planned to take it anyway, but everyone just made it so much worse. He spread these lies about me and now not only do my employees see me as a city bitch, but everyone, including my bosses, now think I’m incompetent, bossy, and unable to do my job well. So now absolutely no one respects me and I got a pay-cut. I have no friends, absolutely no one to talk to. I may as well be a ghost haunting this town. ”

You were sobbing into the phone by the end, and it wasn’t the frustrated, constipated sob you had before. It was a full-on, all-out sob-fest.

You don’t know how long you were sobbing for. You were only aware of the pressure lifting off of your shoulders, replaced by relief that someone was finally listening to you.

Tobio kept soothing you throughout. 

In an attempt to calm yourself, you focused on his voice. His cool, low voice. The voice that you’d missed so much in the past 6 months. One that you both longed and avoided to hear. Because it was hypnotizing.

“It’s all going to be okay…” was the last thing you remember hearing before darkness overtook you.

You felt yourself shuffle, and your consciousness was somewhat awake. You brought yourself up and under the sheets

You folded your hands under your head, unaware of the phone in between and the sound it was making. Everything was blurry and hazy, and you just wanted to sleep.

“–pretty sure you’re asleep now. Which is good. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you cry this much ever since, well, you know. Rest well, alright? You’re–you’re a strong woman. You can push through this…”

He continued to say more things that were incomprehensible in your current state.

As you fell into a swirl of darkness, 7 words echoed in your brain.

“I miss you. And I love you.” 

You felt your lips stretch. You felt it move as it formed words.

You didn't hear your own voice in your haze, but you're quite sure of the words your lips formed.

“I love you too, Tobio.”

That was two years ago. 

You questioned yourself if that even happened, and you’re pretty sure it did. 

You decided to quit your job and look for a new one. Thankfully, Hitoka-chan got you one, and you’ve stayed there since. It was strange, how fast she was able to procure it, and you suspect that Tobio gave her a heads up.

Your new job involves traveling around a lot, attending parties and whatnot. Today, it has brought you to Tokyo. 

You agreed to meet up with the team that night for drinks and catching up. Heaven knows you’ve missed them. But for the next six hours, you’re pretty much on your own. So here you are, strolling around big city Tokyo.

You walk around, glad to know not much has changed. There were more screens, higher buildings, but Tokyo is still Tokyo.

You’re currently in your old coffeeshop with your signature caramel macchiato with extra whip. You’re on your phone, watching the highlights of Kageyama’s match. You always keep up to date with the matches, happy to see him succeeding.

It’s small, sinful mercy you’ve granted yourself.

You smile to yourself as he delivers another service ace. The commentators sound pleased, but not surprised. After all, it is his 7th in a row. 

You’re so engrossed in the game that you don’t even notice the man standing in front of you, shock evident on his face.

“L–L/N-san?”

You sigh, slightly annoyed at being interrupted. You look up, ready to tell off the stranger. It wasn’t that uncommon these, days. Your job granted you a position in the high society, somewhat, and the public has branded you as a bit of a socialite. You are well-connected with the high-society, as your publishing company has you meet with a few members to get a scoop every now and then. You might even call some friends, but that doesn’t mean you want to be part of them.

You look up and see a complete stranger. “Sorry, I’m busy right now. Is there anything you need?”

“Can I get an autograph?” He looks sheepish and excited, and you can’t help but resign.

You grab a napkin from the holder and take a pen from your bag. You quickly sign your name on it and give it to the man, before going back to your phone.

You hear a snap of a camera, but you don’t really care. They can’t really do anything with it anyway.

Engrossed in your game once more, you again fail to notice another man stand in front of you. 

“L–L/N-san?” This time, the voice is familiar, but you can’t quite place it, or rather, your brain refuses to do so as if it as warning you.

Sighing, you look up from your phone. You immediately freeze.

Ushijima Wakatoshi is standing directly parallel to you. 

“U-Ushijima-san! How nice to see you’ve remembered me!” You immediately feel your palms sweat, and you’re not sure why. Maybe you’re nervous? Or maybe you’re anticipating it. Your brain won’t admit it, but you know it’s the latter.

Because where there’s Ushijima, there’s Kageyama.

As if on cue, the coffeeshop door opens and your eyes are drawn towards it as the small bell above it rings, and out comes the man himself. Kageyama Tobio. 

He scans for Ushijima (which isn’t very hard, considering how tall the man is) and walks towards him once he spots the giant, cradling a paper bag.

He freezes, though, once he spots the woman in front of the giant. His eyes widen just a little, and you see his Adam’s apple move. He starts to walk towards you again, this time his pace is a little unsteady.

Your heart is beating a mile per second when he stops in front of you. 

“L/N-san.” His voice is cool and level, much like his face. His face wasn’t happy or sad, and you don’t know which you would have preferred. It’s simply blank.

Has he gotten better at masking his emotions, or are you just rusty?

“Kageyama-san.” You let out in a breath you didn’t know you were holding. There’s a twinge of pain in your chest when you realize you don’t have a clue of what is going on inside his head.

You three are caught in a standstill. You couldn’t pull your eyes away from his, and Kageyama can’t either. 

You stare into his dark eyes, beautiful as ever. But what was once warm and familiar is now blank and void. But that didn’t bother you. No sir. Not. At. All.

There was a time when you adored looking into them. Because in the sea of chaos called life, his eyes were reassuring. They were calm. You used to rely on those eyes to get you through tough times. You no longer do.

As you gaze into them, you are painfully reminded of a time long gone. 

Ushijima’s gaze bounces between the two of you. When it finally becomes clear to him that neither of you has plans to look away any time soon, he grabs the paper bag from Kageyama with a sigh. 

“You both seem like you have a lot to catch up on. I’ll go ahead.” He states bluntly, and his tone leaves no room for argument. Before anyone can protest, he walks away. Your eyes easily follow him into the crowd, even as he crosses to the other side. 

Once you can’t see him anymore, you return your gaze to the table. You stare at your coffee as you take an unnecessarily long sip. The eyes you couldn’t look away from earlier are now the eyes you can’t seem to bear for fear that if you look into them once more, you won’t have the strength to look away again. 

You purse your lips into a line, before finally giving into to the urge of looking up.

You can’t say you regret it.

You look at him once more, this time, your force control upon yourself. 

“Do you want to take a seat?” You ask meekly, unsure of your own voice.

Despite the busy bustle of the streets, the scrape of the chair seems to echo in your ears. You deliberately make your eyes stay on his face, and “deliberately” study it. 

You notice that he’s changed his hair, and you nearly chuckle. You always teased him about the way it had two parts. Now it was a simple, down the middle one. The hairs on the side framed his eyes beautifully, and once yours reach his, you can't help but feel another twinge of pain.

Maybe you have gotten rusty. Maybe he has gotten better. You tell yourself only a part of you prays that it’s one of the two, but that’s a lie.

You’ve been lying a whole lot to yourself a whole lot, you notice.

“So, how have you been?” You ask the most cliché line of all time, and you mentally scold yourself. Really, that line?

“Good. You?”

“Great.”

“That’s nice.”

“Yeah.”

Silence.

Even though the noise around you is relatively loud, the silence between you two is suffocating. You force down the bile in your throat as you mentally grab any question that you can think of.

“How’s volleyball?” Now that was a decent question. You give a mental pat on the back for that one.

Tobio perks up at the mention of volleyball, and you can see that he’s glad to finally have something to talk about. 

He rambles on and on about his recent matches, and you pretend not to know what he’s talking about. You give the occasional “really” and “mhm”. Aside from his insight, there’s nothing he tells you that you don’t already know. You don’t tell him that of course.

You don’t notice the smile slowly etching its way onto your face. You don’t notice the way Tobio’s eyes don’t leave it. You’re too satisfied with hearing his voice.

Tobio catches himself at the end of a long rant, and he rubs his neck sheepishly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I was talking too much.”

“No, no it’s fine,” You laugh lightly, waving it off. “It’s nice to finally be able to talk.”

You don’t hear your words until they come out of your mouth and Kageyama blushes at the insinuation. 

You quickly wave your hands in front of your face as you feel yourself redden as well. “About volleyball, I mean.” You hastily add.

You laugh again, this time with a nervous undertone. You swear you almost saw a flash of disappointment in Kageyama’s eyes, but you brush it off. You really are rusty, you think to yourself.

“But...” You start. You don’t pay attention to the nervous tick in your pulse. “It really nice catching up with you.” You hope your words sound as genuine as they are, as genuine as the smile on your face.

Kageyama blinks at you, and you feel your heart start to race. Did he not feel the same way? Was he angry? Upset? 

You notice his fingers drum gently against the table, a nervous habit of his. You may have gotten rusty but that doesn’t mean you don’t know him at all anymore.

“I wouldn’t really call it catching up... All I did was rant about volleyball.” He mutters shyly, his eyes now avoiding yours.

You laugh lightly once more. “No, no, it’s fine. I really didn’t mind.”

Tobio’s fingers have now doubled in pace. You see his throat move, and you wonder what has him so nervous. What could he be thinking? 

You don’t allow yourself to go down that road though. You know it’s dangerous, and you certainly don’t want to go down that path right now.

“If you want... We could catch up properly.” His face is completely blank and stoic. It’s unnerving how it doesn’t move, and you hate it. You hate how you can’t read him, if even a little.

You focus on that frustration because you surely don’t want to mind the little rejoicing dance your heart Is definitely not making. You feel more assured, that way, safer. It’s scary how you’re much more comfortable with the negative you’re feeling than the positive, but you don’t dwell on that.

You give him a bigger, brighter smile as you chuckle a little. “Of course, that’d be nice. When are you free?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow it is. Maybe around 4:30?”

“4:30′s good. Meet here?”

You nod. “That’s good for me.”

He nods back, and you two are once again submerged in silence. It’s still awkward, but not nearly as uncomfortable as before. You allow yourself to be thankful for that.

“It was nice seeing you, L/N-san.” Tobio stands up, bowing slightly. You think you see a ghost of a smile on his face as straightens his back. You don’t mind the little jump it makes when you notice it. 

“You too, Tobio.” You smile at him, and the smile lingers as you watch him disappear into the crowd.

It doesn’t stay on for too long afterward though, because you realize one, the smile on your face, and two, that you called him Tobio.

ISTG THAT THE ENDING WAS SUPPOSED TO BE BETTER THAN THAT BUT TUMBLR DELETED IT AND I HAD TO REDO IT HUHUHUU anyway, this was also supposed to be longer, but I decided to end it here so it sounds better and to let you guys decide if you still want to continue this 0^0 so sorry if its rushed

[a-man-for-hire-and-his-archives]

AN INTERVIEW WITH LUKE ARNOLD

Many people know actor Luke Arnold from the Starz TV show Black Sails where he plays the character, John Silver. But, to add to his extensive acting credits is his debut novel, The Last Smile in Sunder City. The first novel of the Fetch Phillips Archives series. If you haven’t had a chance to check out Sunder City, you should fix that ASAP. (Our review can be found here.) Sunder City is a little bit of fantasy, a little bit Sam Spade, and a whole lot of good writing. GdM got the opportunity to sit down with Luke and talk to him a bit about his writing, and what is happening in the future for Fetch Phillips.

GDM: Hi Luke. Thank you for agreeing to chat with me a bit about your writing, life, and The Last Smile in Sunder City.

LA: My absolute pleasure. Thanks for having me.

GDM: For the uninitiated, could you tell me a little about yourself and how you got into writing Sunder City? Have you always been a writer?

LA: I’ve been working as an actor for most of my adult life. When I started out, all my creative paths were intertwined. I’d write things, act in them, direct them, and collaborate with anyone on anything. Then I was lucky enough to have some success in the acting world, most notably on a show called Black Sails, and gave that all of my focus for a few years. After that wrapped up, it felt like it was time to dig back into my own writing, so I put away some time and punched out the first draft.

GDM: I know with acting, you must pull character creation and visualization from a creative space. How does that differ from character creation when writing novels?

LA: In some ways, they couldn’t be more opposite. When you act on film, you really have to trust everyone around you and hope that you’re in safe hands. You work off someone else’s material on a set that someone else built, in a costume that someone else made, while you listen to direction and hand your performance over to an editor at the end of it. It’s about doing your homework, preparing properly, and then committing to this brief window of time when you try to be in the moment and deliver a performance worth capturing.

GDM: With a novel, you are the entire crew, and the window lasts as long as you need it to. For the most part, there is no collaboration, no outside input, nobody rocking up with a ready-made set or a beautiful coat to put on one of your characters. For better or worse, it’s all you.

LA: To be honest, being able to bounce back and forth between the two makes me enjoy each of them even more.

GDM: The Last Smile in Sunder City was a remarkable story. I loved how the story is told through a series of interactions, both now and in the past. It was a compelling narrative device in describing how a character can change once crossing a pivotal moment in their lives. In Fetch’s case, it was the before and after the Coda. Did you plan for the story to be told in this fashion, or did the story change organically as you wrote it?

LA: When I started writing this story, it was only the present-day part of the story: a man-for-hire searching for a Vampire in a broken fantasy world. I thought maybe I would do a bunch of these short cases, stick them together, and then do an origin story one day.

I shared the story with some friends in the publishing world and while they really liked it, they informed me that collections of short stories are nearly impossible to sell, and suggested that a novel would be a better path. Thankfully, I took their advice.

I think the scars of that process can still be seen on this story, but I kind of like that. It’s the same thing that happened to Raymond Chandler (my biggest influence when it comes to this book). Chandler wrote short stories for a magazine called Black Mask. Most of his novels were an amalgamation of those shorter stories, tied together and padded out.

My second book, Dead Man in a Ditch, is more tightly constructed, but for the first story about a hopeless, wandering gumshoe who only begins to find his way, I think the creative journey added to the tone.

GDM: How did you create the after Coda world? What was the inspiration?

LA: A lot of the pre-Coda world (the magical time) was planned out before I started. I tracked the beginning of magic and thought about how it would seep into the world and create versions of all the magical creatures we’re familiar with. But in the post-Coda, a lot of it comes to life as I take Fetch around the city and see who he stumbles across. Rather than being inspired by any particular time or place in history, it’s more about a feeling. A bit of guilt. A touch of depression. A regular spoonful of self-loathing. Sometimes it’s about growing up. Sometimes it’s about living in the aftermath of mistakes. It all depends on where Fetch’s mind is at. He’s always struggling with some internal dilemma, and I love to make him bump into the perfect creature that will make things even worse.

GDM: Are you a big fantasy and science fiction reader? Which books have you been inspired by?

LA: I’ve always been a big reader, but I only dabbled in fantasy before this. I’ve been doing my best to catch up over the last few years. Most of the fantasy worlds that influenced me would have come from video games, anime, and film. I’ve been going through Final Fantasy 7 recently (remake, and replaying the original), and realized that it probably influenced Sunder City more than any book.

There’s plenty of Pratchett in my world, and I’ve stolen fantasy creatures from everywhere, but you’ll find more elements of Humphry Bogart than Hobbits.

GDM: One of the take-aways I had From The Last Smile in Sunder City was even under all the dark, the ominous, the despair, under the constant struggle to live, there is always a small shiny kernel of hope. As a reader, I am drawn to stories that have this; it helps me connect and want more as a reader. Was this always the intention?

LA: Sure. I love playing with the expectations we have of fantasy characters versus what we expect of ourselves. In worlds with magic spells, evil villains, and ancient prophesies, we want our heroes to find the special sword, kill the baddie, and restore peace to the land. When you’re younger, our world seems so different to the ones in books that it feels like escapism. But as you get older, you realise that there are actually these looming threats coming to destroy the us and villains who cause suffering for their own gain, but the bit that we struggle with (at least I do) is what we can do about it. Could we be better? Does anything we do matter? Or could we wake up tomorrow and actually make a difference?

I don’t know how to fix the world (yet) but I do know that a shared moment with a close friend or a perfect cup of coffee will help me get up tomorrow and keep searching.

GDM: Can you tell me a bit about Dead Man in a Ditch?

LA: The first book hints that the magic might not be completely gone for good. Of course, Fetch isn’t ready to believe that, but word has gotten out. Folks start arriving at Fetch’s door, asking him to find a way to fix things. That includes the police department, who invites Fetch to a crime scene where a guy’s face has been blown apart by a fireball.

With the stage set by the first book, Dead Man in a Ditch makes some big moves forward, though the shadows from the past are still hanging around.

GDM: Finally, I always like to end on a light-hearted question. The Dinner Party question. If you could have dinner and conversation with three figures from real life, alive or dead, or fiction, who would they be and why?

LA: Jim Henson. I think Sesame Street is the most important television show ever made and everything Jim brought into the world has made it a better place. Maybe I’d get to learn a couple of things but maybe I’d just get to spend a couple of hours in his presence.

David Bowie (Similar reasons to Henson, really) and Nina Simone (because she seemed really disappointed at Montreux that Bowie wasn’t there, so I’d die to see them hanging out). And there would be a piano tucked in the corner, as if by accident, but I’d never ask anyone to play (until the second bottle of wine, when I absolutely would).

I know they’re all creative, but then I would at least have a chance of joining in the conversation. If it was Nelson Mandela, Marie Curie and Martin Luther King, I’d be outed as an imbecile immediately.

- Grimdark Magazine (x)

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Persistence

For @klausandhisghosts as she requested for her Raffle prize!

Warnings: non/dubcon elements, rough sex, oral.

This is dark!Steve Rogers and explicit. 18+ only.

Lydia was your typical writer. Small, mousy, keen on wool sweaters and dark turtlenecks. Her dark hair and darker eyes made her pale skin stand out, especially on days such as this. The New York sky was grey, the clouds barely holding back the shower which threatened to fall. She took her usual route to the cafe; today she was working from home; another gossip article for the magazine. She was growing tired of celebrities and socialites, she wanted to write about something meaningful. She had to keep reminding herself that it was a means to an end. One day she would be a co-editor, or even editor, and then she could gripe about the uselessness of celebrity branding.

On days when she wasn’t in the office, she allowed herself a trip to the cafe, a latte and muffin to accompany the clicking of keys as she typed away. Often her drink had grown cold by the time she finished and her half-eaten muffin was wrapped and tucked away for later. The baristas knew her by name and remembered her order easily. There were a few other regulars she recognized too, one she was avoiding came up to the door just as she did.

She had met Steve Rogers by chance. Sent to interview his acquaintance, Tony Stark, she had run into him on her way up to the highest office in Stark Tower. It was a passing greeting, a short introduction performed out of courtesy by Tony, but she had never expected to see him again. Then, she did. It was odd. The super soldier had recognized her in the small cafe as he stood in line, remembering her name and sparking a short conversation. She was eager to be away to write. She didn’t stay in the coffee shop, paranoid that he would want to continue the chat. From there, she would see him at least once a week and she weighed switching cafes. But she liked this place, it had good food, and was less expensive than most shops in the city. So she stayed, refusing to let his presence get the best of her.

“Lydia,” He greeted you in a low voice, waiting for you to enter ahead of him. “Great timing.”

“Ha, yeah,” She headed for the back of the queue, it was thankfully short. “I suppose.”

“How have you been?” He stood beside her in line, rather loomed. He was much taller than her, and wider. She was certain he could have picked her up as easily as a children’s toy. That’s what she felt like standing next to him.

“Busy, you?” She tried to hint at him. She really needed to get this article done.

“Well, you know, the same,” He shrugged, “Wish the weather would lighten up. I get tired of New York on days like these.”

“Yeah, I guess,” She agreed. She actually enjoyed the rain and looked forward to the downpour expected later tonight.

“You on the clock?” He pondered.

“Actually, yes,” She answered, hiding her relief. She didn’t have to be rude and bring it up. “Short deadline.”

She stepped forward as the barista called for the next customer and Steve followed closely. The barista confirmed Lydia order before she could place it and her unwanted companion pulled out his wallet. “I’ll get this,” He told the barista before they could ask plastic or paper and he added his own coffee to the bill, swiftly swiping his card. She crossed her arms, hiding her distress. She had told him over and over she didn’t want him paying for her.

They moved over to the bar and waited for their fare. She grabbed her latte, unfortunately in a glass mug so she had to stay in, and her muffin on its plate as Steve took his black coffee. “Do you mind if I join you for a few minutes? I’m just waiting for Sam,” He asked. Wow, he was actually considering her desires. If her small rebuffs weren’t enough for him, she’d have to start being a bit more forward.

“Sure, why not?” She shrugged as she took her usual spot at the table for two in the corner. She set down her food and unhooked her bag from across her body, ready to pull out her laptop and start. She figured his friend would be there soon enough and she would be free of him. Plus, she had the excuse of an article calling her name. He sat across from her, gripping his paper cup as he leaned against his chair casually.

“So, do you ever not work?” He asked, “Say, Friday?”

Lydia tried to smile. How many times did she have to say no. It wasn’t that he wasn’t a nice guy or unattractive, hell, he was the hottest guy she knew. It was only that she didn’t need the distraction. He was already enough of a thorn in her side. She held back her sigh, “Steve, I’ve told you. I can’t. I have my work. I just don’t have the time if I’m going to make co-editor.”

“I’m sure you could find an hour for me. That’s all I ask,” He smirked, “Come on, Lydia.”

“No,” She said sternly, her lips a straight line. “Look, I don’t want to be rude but I also don’t want to tell you again. I’m flattered, really, but no. Okay?”

She hadn’t meant for her tone to grow so hostile but she really had to get this article done and asking for an extension would do her no favours. Steve blinked, his smirk twitching but he kept his disappointment at bay. He cleared his throat and shook his head lightly. 

“Alright, I get it.” He raised his hand defensively, “Just thought I’d give it another try,” He stood and checked his watch, “Sam’s late. I’ll have to go hunt him down.”

“Okay,” Lydia said quietly. He was holding back but she could sense he was more than just disappointed. He was angry. She hadn’t ever seen him anything but calm. Even after a dozen rejections but today was different. “Bye.”

“See ya, Lydia,” He tapped the table with his fingers before turning away, she waited for him to leave before daring to pull out her laptop. As she waited for it to boot, she shivered. Something about the interaction unnerved her. The subtle tick in his jaw as he bid his farewell, she had poked something deep inside him. Something scary.

***********

Later that night, Lydia was content enough to send away her final draft. She was proud. She had given herself an extra day off that week from all her hard work. As it was late, the laundry rooms were empty, and seeing as she didn’t have to be in the office early, it was the perfect time to catch up on the overflowing hamper in her room.

She dragged her basket back to her apartment, the eerie silence of the hall muffled by the booming music blaring from her headphones. She bopped her head as she walked along; the tunes would make the task of folding much quicker. The warmth emanating from the freshly dried clothes was comforting and she pushed inside her apartment, sliding the chain into place and twisting the lock. You could never be too careful in New York. She continued onto the bedroom, setting the load on her bed.

She picked up the first shirt and folded it carefully, opening the middle drawer of her dresser as she placed it away. She moved between bed and dresser as she worked on one piece at a time, swaying her hips in time as she did. She was halfway done when she sensed a shadow move behind her. She froze and turned, finding nothing but an empty doorway and her small bedroom. She was tired and it was late, that was all.

She turned back and returned to her chore, barely finishing the fold of her sleeve before she was pulled off her feet. A thick arm hooked around her middle and she kicked out, overturning the basket with her foot and it landed between bed and dresser. Her headphones were ripped from her head as she struggled, grabbing at the arm of the intruder. He grunted as he pushed her forward until her legs met the edge of the bed. His other hand was on her neck and he forced her to bend, holding her head to the mattress.

“You think you’re special, don’t you?” Steve’s voice froze her as his strength kept her from any effective resistance. His other hand was on the back of thigh, edging along the bottom of her ass. “Little writer girl.” He growled and pulled back his hand, slapping her ass hard and she squeaked.

“S-Steve,” She stuttered, reaching back to touch his hand but he only pressed her head harder into the mattress. “Wh-what are you doing? Why are you doing this?”

“You don’t ask questions here, you little slut,” He moved behind her, bending over her small body so that he once more loomed over her. He released her neck, pushing his forearm across her shoulders to keep her in place. “You think I don’t know what you really are. Full of shit, is what you are!” He hissed, “Work, work, work, right?” You felt him fumbling around and a screen appeared before your face suddenly, your Tindr profile, forgotten and inactive, beamed back at you. “Wasting your time on this app when I could give you what you’re looking for.”

He tossed his phone onto the dresser as he stood, his hand on the small of her back as he kept her bent over. He rubbed the bulge of his jeans against her as he righted himself, inserting his hand between her legs roughly as he groped her through her sweats. “Even through these, I can feel what you really want.” He said, “You want me, slut.”

He slapped her ass again and let go of her and she whined. Quickly, she made to crawl across the bed but he was too fast. As she tried to wriggle away, he grabbed the waist of her sweats and she only accomplished the baring of her ass and thighs, the pants rolling to her knees. She twisted and reached back to pull them back but Steve continued there path until her legs were naked. She had foregone undies for the sake of laundry.

She turned her body to face him, kicking at him as he came nearer. He caught her ankles easily and pulled her legs apart as he climbed onto the edge of the bed and forced them around his body. He released her only to wrap his hands around her waist, pushing her shirt upward and she tried to keep him from moving it past her stomach. He merely grabbed the hem and tore, the fabric ripping up the centre and falling open to reveal her naked torso. She gasped as he snapped the straps of the tank and it fell flat beneath her.

“I know what you need. You just need to take it, slut,” He grabbed the back of her head, bunching her hair in his hand as he pulled her toward him and retreated off the bed. His eyes burned down at her as he easily guided her body with his own. “On your knees,” He demanded and she tried to shake her head. His other hand was at her throat in a moment, “Now, slut.”

She blinked as her eyes grew glassy with unspent tears but she obeyed. He was so strong and his hands so big. He could almost enclose her whole neck with his fingers. “No running,” He warned her as he released her, “I mean it. I will catch you.” She knew he would. Even if she tried to flee, she doubted she’d get one step past him. “Now,” He reached to his pants, “Be a good slut and open up.”

She watched as he unbuttoned his fly and pushed down the zipper, freeing his erection from his boxers just above the opening of his jeans. He stroked his hard length and her eyes rounded at the size of him. The throbbing head was already leaking and the veins along the sides bulged in expectation. She gasped and he chuckled.

“No, don’t go telling me you’ve never seen one before,” He reached out to stroke her hair as his other hand gripped the base of his cock, “A slut like you must like the taste.”

He pressed the head to her lips, forcing them further open as he bent his knees to ease his entrance. He planted his feet far apart, both hand on the side of her hand as he entered her mouth. With every inch, Lydia fought for breath and struggled not to choke as he met the back of her throat. He was salty. She did her best to open up to him as he slid further down, fighting against her gag reflex.

“You are a slut,” He remarked as he bottom out in her throat, “Fuck, I knew it.” He held her steady as he pulled back, allowing her little time to breath as he plunged back into her. He didn’t wait for her to catch up, thrusting hard and fast into her as he began to groan. “All these boys you meeting online when what you really need is a man.” He rasped, “A man to fuck you into your place, slut.”

She reached up to grasp at his pelvis as he fucked her face, her head pounding at the lack of air as saliva dripped down her chin. Finally, he removed himself and she heaved, gasping thankfully as she filled her lungs. “Let me see that pretty little ass of yours again,” He motioned her to her feet and turned her around, his hands grazing her butt. He paused at her thighs and bent to breath in the scent of her sweaty hair, “You ready to take it all, slut?”

He scooped her up before she could react, his hands on the back of her thighs as he held her legs bent. She felt his cock poking at her entrance and she moaned unwillingly. It felt nice. After all these months of nothing, the sensation of another human touching her, even roughly, was overwhelming. “Go on and help me out, slut.”

He moved his pelvis to prod her and Lydia reached down to line him up with her entrance. She held her breath as his head pushed into her and he slammed into her all at once. She cried out at the air rushed from her lungs and she touched her clit as it throbbed, trying to ease the pulsing. “Are you touching yourself, you little slut?” Steve gristled in her ear, “That’s my job.” He warned and she snapped her hand away.

He thrust sharply and she squeaked. It encouraged him as he repeated the action, waiting a few seconds between each as he relished in the harsh slap of skin against skin. “Any of those Tindr boys fuck you like this?” He asked, “No. All their puny cocks could never please a slut like you.” He hammered away, lifting her up and down his length as he tilted his pelvis into her. She couldn’t help the high-pitched murmur with each thrust.

He walked with her in the air, continuing to fuck as he got up on the bed. He let go of her legs and she quickly got them below herself to keep from falling. He cupped her breast in his hands as he held her flush against him, working his cock in and out as he grunted. He only became even more fervent, his thrusts deeper and deeper. His right hand slipped lower down, tickling her stomach as his other tweaked her nipple. Two fingers found her clit and began drawing circles, his pace never wavering.

Lydia’s pussy began to quiver as she trembled, the ripples rising higher and higher, collecting in her pelvis as they threatened to bloom. “You gonna cum, you little slut?” He purred in her ear, “Yeah, you cum for this big cock.” He rammed into her hard, staying there as she exclaimed in pleasure, her orgasm had her eyes rolling back in her head.

As she slowly descended from her high, Steve shoved her forward so that she barely caught herself with her arms. She was on elbows and knees as he set once more to fucking her as hard as he could. He shifted a leg up so he was only on one knee, his foot planted beside her as he delved into her. “Oh, you slut, you’re going to make me cum.” He snarled, thrusting in and out as his fingers dug into her hips, slamming her against him. “You going to take my cum in your mouth, slut? Hmm, going to swallow it up?” Lydia groaned and he chuckled, “Oh-ho, no, my little slut wants me to cum inside of her?”

Lydia was totally out of it. She was barely aware that it was the super soldier behind her. The noise which came out of her could have meant anything but Steve took it as her approval. He hissed and grunted and his motion turned uneven. A warmth seeped inside of her as he spilled forth, his hand pushing apart her ass as he watched himself fuck her until the cum ran out around his cock.

“Little slut, take that cum so good.” He leaned over her until she was forced flat on her stomach, his cock still inside her. He made to move to get up, covering her body with his as he breathed into her hair. She closed her eyes, praying that this was it. She felt him twitch within her, slowly he began to pull out but paused as only his head remained. He thrust back into her, finding a slower rhythm as he began to fuck her again. “You didn’t think we were done, did you?”

[sleepnginstardust]

Werewolf boyfriend and girlfriend (part 1/??)

I really enjoy the short stories by @momolady @monsterywriting and @monstersandmaw. So I wanted to write something that hopefully would live up to some of their amazing writing. Fair warning I don’t have anyone who’s able to proof read for me so I’ve as best as I can to make sure that everythings okay. Let me know if y’all find anything! This 

Castle Hill,  the sign was almost too perfect. When I was first looking at places to move this place hadn’t even occurred to me than someone I know of brought a listing to my attention.

“I know you’re thinking of moving to a less populated place, wouldn’t want anyone to bother your writing now would you!” The little jab at my writing career was annoying, but kind of spot on? I had been stuck in a rut for my second novel in my series for a while and while I don’t mind living in a densely populated area. The noise and just all of the people get to me after a while. It takes more energy for me to head to the corner bodega than it should. So I had been looking for a house in a small town that was within at the most a three-hour drive from the city. 

The listing my acquaintance had posted on my facebook was for a house in the small town of Castle Hill. Bigger than what I needed but still cheaper than owning an apartment in the city. So I booked a viewing.

The realtor I talked with was surprised when I contacted them, he said something about not a lot of newcomers to the town. Never a good thing to hear if I ever wanted to sell the house again. I vaguely remember asking a few more questions.  Something about the community college that was in the town and I asked about a motel or an AirB&B in the area.

The realtor laughed, he said that there was a small Bed and Breakfast in the area and that he could give me the number if I was serious about wanting to see the house. It was odd when he asked me again if I was serious about seeing the house. When I said I would be up at the end of the week to see the house, he hesitated and said that he looked forward to someone so obstinate.

So I drove the three-ish hours, it took to get to Castle Hill, the drive was gorgeous. The busy city by the bay slowly gave way to winding roads through farmland. Slowly the farmland gave way to rolling hills and soon the hills became forests. The trees were small at first then slowly growing larger the farther I drove. 

By the time I reached the town sign, I was truly in a  forest. There were small clearings here and there, in fact, the town was built in one such clearing. The town sign showed the edge and while it was a large clearing tree still peppered the area causing a rustic feel that I remember from my childhood spent in the mountains.

Quaint wooden walkways were in place of the concrete sidewalks I was used too. It made me feel like I had moved back in time. The Old Fashion buildings made everything, even the modern day coffee shop seem like it had all been there for years. As I drove past I saw, a butchers place, a florist's and a small hardware store. 

The small crafts store was something that drew my eyes, it's bright exterior showed only a small portion of what was inside. As I made my way through the more suburban portion of the town I started to notice all the families. Naga men and women with their clutch of young, I saw a small satyr with a stunning woman and three children jumping up and down. I saw a beautiful Centaur woman with an equally stunning woman and a small centaur girl jumping around them. 

As I pulled up to the Victorian house a woman not much older came out to greet me. She stood tall and proud which honestly made me feel a bit like a slob. especially after driving the three and a half hours it took me to get here.

"You must be Abigail, I'm Kara. It's so nice you are able to join us. I'll show you the room." As she took me through the house I looked at all the old photos slowly morph into newer ones. I felt like I was walking through a carefully preserved museum.

"Okay, is this a family home? I'm seeing photos from the 1880's 1870's at the earliest." Kara paused for a moment and looked back at me while giving a small smile.

"I'm surprised you noticed, most people just assume that I find old photos in antique stores or something like that." I looked down with a small blush on my face. History was one of the few things I enjoyed. Feeling a little embarrassed I muttered something I don't remember. 

"My family has been in this area since the early 1860's. This house itself was built around 1904 right after the large earthquake that struck San Francisco." Kara  showed me the house along with many more photos of the town from the early days. 

The house itself was beautiful. Old but wonderfully kept wooden floors and antique looking wallpaper throughout. Each room was its own separate room. The furniture in each room seemed like it had been made especially for each room. The dining room had a large table with what seemed like 14 chairs.

She showed me the kitchen with its cozy dining nook where Kara explained that she served both breakfast and dinner there if I would want to join her. I couldn’t turn down such a wonderful woman so I readily found myself agreeing. 

Finally she led me up the stairs and to the upper story where opened the door to a decent sized bedroom with an ensuite bathroom. The entire room smelled lightly of lilacs, which normally would bother me but with how light the sent was it didn’t bother me.

She carefully bowed out and put a key with rose shaped key fob attached on the nightstand. Slowly I dragged my battered carry on bag onto the almost pristine white luggage stand. I carefully pulled out my small makeup bag and a small toiletries bag. I put away the small amount of clothes I brought with me and debated whether to keep the sweater in the bag or with me. I pulled it out just in case.

After that I freshened up in the bathroom. I reapplied bits of my foundation and added a translucent setting powder over the top to cover my greaseball forehead. I pulled out my favorite lipstick and put that on instead of the tinted lip balm I had been wearing most of the day. I looked at myself in the mirror and realized that this was going to be the best I was going to look for the day.

Grabbing my laptop bag I made my way down the stairs. As I hit the downstairs landing I heard Kara talking with another person. I slowly made my way into the sitting room where I had heard the conversation coming from.  I pulled short before the doorway and knocked like the sheepish person I am. I looked and saw Kara sitting down with two people both in firefighters uniforms. Not the heavy kind but the lighter kind that they wear while on duty. 

“Look I know I’ve been here for” I checked my phone. “An hour, but I promise I haven’t set anything on fire. That I know of.” The Female firefighter snorted, and the male one had this stupid grin. One I kind of wanted to punch off of his face. Sort of.

“Oh Abigail This Anita Galassia the Chief Firefighter for the town.” The man made a disgruntled noise and Kara made soothing motions. “And this is Anita’s Second in command Nathan Fraye. They were checking in on me, one of my neighbors had a bad fall (she’s pregnant with her first child) and they wanted to assure me that if anything happened they would be here lickty split.” 

“Wait, firefighters still do that? Sorry my local firefighters live an hour outside of the city and hardly know anyone.” Anita and Nathan hadn’t stopped looking at me even while Kara had been talking and I started to feel the anxiety creep into my brain. I felt like I had been cornered by two wolves, and my flight or fight feelings started to kick in. “Oh I forgot, I’m heading down to that coffee shop. You didn’t say anything about wifi and I have a few things I need to send in to my editor.”

“Oh my gosh Abigail I am so sorry! I do have wifi. I know I have the information around here somewhere. If you still want to go to the cafe I can have the password for wifi when you get back.” I nodded, feeling my anxiety kick it up a notch and my heart rate go up. I gave a small wave and started to turn around.

“Abigail right? Did you want us to take you down there? The fire house is close by and it wouldn’t be out of our way.” I turned back around looking at Anita’s earnest smiling face.

“Ahh no thanks I drove like three and a half hours to get here and a short walk would help get the cobwebs out of my brain before I have to edit like six chapters.” Anita’s face fell a little and she nodded.

“Understandable, maybe we’ll see you there. They have some good pastries.” I was still feeling like a cornered deer. So I put on my most brilliant smile and nodded. Waved again and made my way out of the room. On my way out I heard one of them mutter to Kara “She’s cute.”

“Don’t get any fucking ideas horn dog” was all I heard as I  quickly made my way out of the house and onto the small sidewalk through the neighborhood. Walking past the houses on my way towards the town center made me realize how many families were here. Like I had seen kids playing before but I only saw three or four of them. Now I was seeing whole groups of them.

In the 15 minutes I had been walking towards the coffee shop I started feeling invigorated and almost inspired. I say almost because as I was passing the local park, I noticed a small group of kids playing. I stopped for a moment and stared. As I watched the children playing I felt a small pang in my stomach. I wanted children but with my busy schedule I couldn’t even fathom having children. I quickly shook my head and started walking again.

Or well I would have if I hadn’t have run into something. Thankfully I didn’t fall over, I just happened to bump into them. I muttered sorry and started walking away. 

“Are you okay?” I looked up and realized that the person that I bumped into was someone who could probably bench press me. Again my flight or fight response kicked in.

“Oh I’m fine, sorry for bumping into you.” I gave a small wave to the person and thankfully he took that to mean that I was fine and he thankfully left it at that.

“I’m pretty sure your new in town, if you need anything stop by the local newspaper, I’m Fred, I run it and can help you if you need anything.” Still feeling a little nervous. I nodded and started walking away. I could swear I could feel him watching me as I got farther away.

I started loosening up the farther I got away from the park. I kept my head down and I started counting the squares in the sidewalk. I started looking up when my anxiety started slowly going away. It was another ten minutes to the coffee shop and I was thankful when I noticed that it quiet. I made my way up to the counter and placed an order for just a pot of black tea and a plain scones.

“So are you just visiting or maybe just passing through?” I looked up at the orc girl behind the counter, and tried to figure out why she was asking.

“I’ve got an appointment to see a house tomorrow.” I said in a slightly dead tone. I had hoped the orc girl would take a hint and just leave it. But she was young and wanted to be nice. I think.

“Oh that’s awesome, we don’t really get a lot of new people who’d want to move into a town out in the middle of nowhere. Do you have some sort of business you’re opening up?” She started finally gathering my things as she had been talking and I tried to repress the urge to snap. I know I should watch my temper but damn I was really not in the mood to talk

“I’m a novelist. I need a more quiet area so I can focus a little better on my novel.” At that the girl looked up from filling the small pot of tea. “Hey watch out or yo-”

“Fuck!” my warning came a little too late as she poured boiling hot water over her hand. I put my laptop down on the counter.

“Are you going to need burn gel? Use room temperature water by the way.” The Girl looked at me, I raised my eyebrows and shrugged. She switched over the water temperature and pulled a red bag from under the register. 

“Sorry I just realized where I had seen you before. I’ve seen your instagram, you have like a million subscribers.” I had the decency to be embarrassed. I knew I had a few subscribers here and there but I didn’t realize that people would actually recognize me.

“Yeah that’s me I guess.” The girl had remade the teapot and started heating up the scone. I grabbed my bag and saw a table in a corner that faced the street. I pulled out my laptop and looked around the table for a place to plug in. I found one a smalle ways away but still close enough to plug in my laptop.

The girl brought me the scone and the teapot with a murmured sorry. I nodded and took the pot and the scone laying them down on the table. I poured the tea and started nibbling on the scone putting some lemon curd on. As I settled down I opened the email from my editor with the edits he’d like to see and I sat down and started to write.

Writing had always come easy to me, easier than dealing with people at least. With writing I had control over everything, what people said, how people reacted, and honestly it was way easier to deal with things that I put onto paper. My first novel happened that way.

It had started as a way to deal with the fact that I wasn't what people wanted me to be. So I wrote a story about it. Fiction of course, because who would want to read an autobiography about a no one. And it sold, stupidly well. Then I was told they wanted a second book, and a third. So I rolled with it.

Now that I was working on the second book in the series I realized I really enjoyed writing. So here I was 200 miles away from my apartment and my editor trying to finish the last bit of editing before the book went to publication. Listening to the barista girl talk animated with someone. 

I heard the clink of someone setting a ceramic cup down on a wooden table. Looking up with a scowl on my face I recognized the two firefighters from Kara’s place. My scowl deepened making me look like I was going to punch someone. Trying my best to ignore them, I went back to work.

”Wow and I thought I was scary when I'm mad.” I ignored the voice of Nathan as put in some rework to some dialogue. ”hello did you hear me?”

”yes i heard you, yes I am ignoring you. I have a few things to finish before my book goes to printing next month.`` I looked up to stare at Nathan who had this bewildered smile on his face. Anita sat down next to Nathan and punched his arm.

“I told you not to bother her, yet here we are. With her about to rip your throat out.” Anita gave a small snort.

“I wouldn’t rip his throat out, that’s too messy. I’d poison him, less blood that way.” I said not even missing a keystroke. I heard someone choke a little, and the sounds of someone thumping on someone’s back. The more I got into writing the less I noticed. I was almost finished with the final couple of revisions when I saw a hand in front of my computer screen. Blinking a bit I looked up.

“Sorry to bother you but you haven’t looked up in two hours and we were starting to worry.” I looked at the clock on my screen and realized I had been at the coffee shop for three hours. It was closing in on Six O’clock and I needed to get back to Kara’s. I looked back up to Nathan.

“Aw crap, I’ve got to get going, thanks for checking in.” I saved what I was doing and closed my laptop. I unplugged the charger from the wall and started shoving it and my laptop in my bag. I shut my bag and stood forgetting I had been sitting for a long period of time. Of course I would get dizzy after having nothing but scones and tea since last night.

As I steadied myself I felt a hand on my shoulder and stiffened. Looking back I saw Anita and Nathan both looking concerned? I didn’t know anything about these people and still they had concern for me. I had no idea why people like them would be concerned but here they were showing concern anyway.

“I’m fine, just haven’t had decent food since yesterday. I’m heading back to Kara’s where she promised a good home cooked meal. I think.” I raised my hands in defeat and walked over the counter. The Barista was looking between myself and the two behind me. “Can I just get a cup of water, need to stay hydrated you know.”

She handed me the cup and I waved to Anita and Nathan and left. As I popped outside I realized how cold it had gotten in the three hours I was there. I shivered a bit realizing that not everywhere was in the 80’s during September. I started walking back the way I came as the street lamps came on. I looked up and noticed that the street lamps were some old time looking ones with the fake flicker light bulbs.

I walked quietly by the stores with bright interiors. As the stores gave way to houses I started feeling like something was watching me and I started getting nervous.  I started walking faster and as I was walking past the park I looked over. Two sets of glowing eyes stared back at me and I nearly screamed.

Needless to say, I walked faster back to Kara’s house and as I saw the lights on I quickly made my way inside. Not running mind you, but close. As I opened the door and slammed it shut my heart was racing. Kara came through the door to the kitchen and looked at me up and down.

“Abigail you look like you’ve seen a ghost.” I nodded, not paying attention to what she was saying as she led me into the kitchen. The smell of what seemed to be chicken and something else came to my nose. She took my bag and put it on a hook next to the door over some aprons. “Okay, tell me what happened”

“I- I  don’t know, I was walking back from the coffee shop and I started feeling like I was being watched. Which by the way is terrifying because the last time that happened I was nearly killed. Well I started walking faster, not running because then that lets them know you know they’re watching and when I passed the park I look up and somewhere past the park there where these eyes. Two sets of them, and well I started panicking and now my anxiety is throu-” She didn’t let me finish my sentence as she engulfed me in a hug. I tensed up waiting for the whole “You shouldn’t be so cautise” talk I’ve heard from many different people. Instead she just rubbed my back in soothing circular motions.

“Hey, hey it’s okay. I’ll talk to a few people to see what we can do. Now we need some food if you can stomach it. I know sometimes anxiety can be a real monster.” As she said this my anxiety dropped a little enough where I wasn’t hyperventilating. I was still having issues seeing, and I knew from experience that tunnel vision took a while to go away. I started to tremble so much so that my knees finally gave out. Kara grabbed me before I could hit the floor thankfully. She manhandled me into a chair at the table and gave me a glass of water.

 “Maybe I should call the fire department for you.” Hearing that all I could think about was the look of pity from Anita and Nathan I would get and my stomach dropped. I grabbed her wrist and shook my head no.

“P-p-please don’t I have medicine in m-my b-bag.” I pointed to my laptop bag, and she hurried over and searched the front bag finding the small bottle of anti anxiety medicine. She brought over the bottle and handed it to me. I opened the bottle and took out a pill and put it in my mouth and drank the glass of water. I put the glass of water on the table and put my head between my legs.

“Do these attacks happen often?” I turned my head to look at her and nodded slowly.

“They were manageable most of the time, but there was this incident about five months ago? I don’t know. Anyway they become worse almost to the point where I couldn’t leave my apartment.”  Kara nodded her head and started making a plate of food. I watched her bring a chicken thigh onto a plate before I spoke up. “I don’t think I’m going to be able to eat that, I’m sorry.”

“Do not apologize. Besides I can make you something easier on the stomach. How about some soup and maybe a grilled cheese?” I looked at her perplexed, this woman had known me four maybe five hours and she had treated me better than my own mother. The tears came faster than I realized and when Kara looked back at me from the freezer where she was pulling out what looked like homemade soup, she gasped. 

“Hey, what’s wrong, do you not like chicken noodle, I think I have some leftover Minestrone from last week still,” I started crying harder, trying to make sure the sound wasn’t loud so the neighbors didn’t hear. “Oh dear, what’s wrong, you can talk to me.”

“N-n-n-not e-even m-m-m-my own m-m-mother cared, she just cared that I wasn’t making money for her anymore.” At this Kara stopped put the soup down on the counter and walked over to me.

“Abigail I’m going to tell you one thing about this town. If you do end up taking buying a house here know one thing. We look after our people no matter what. You’ll never have to worry about walking home alone. If you’re ever sick we’ll look after you. If for whatever reason you’re gone for long periods of time we’ll look after your yard and feed your cat if you have one. We care for our people, you won’t be alone unless you want it.” As she said this I started crying even harder this time not caring who heard. Kara just kneeled down and rubbed circles in my back. After a couple of minutes my tears started winding down and the fuzzy feeling of just having a long cry started creeping in.”

“Now Abigail let’s get you some soup, a nice grilled cheese and some more water okay?”  I nodded and watched her refill the glass I had from earlier. She gently placed the water in front of me and I hesitantly picked it up.

“I’m sorry for the breakdown there, It had been a while since I had one and I never expected to have one here.” I sniffled and looked around for some paper towels or maybe a paper napkin. Kara was looking at me as she warmed up a thing of soup in a sauce pot. I looked down at my knees very interested in my knees. 

“Amelia you don’t have to apologize, most people don’t hold half the things inside them that you probably do and they still break down.” She flipped a sandwich over in a pan on the stove top & stirred the soup. “Honestly one of the hardest things in life is being strong enough to understand that you don’t always have to be strong.” 

I sighed, maybe I knew I was due to break down but I had been hoping that maybe I would be able to get through the final draft of my novel and purchase a new house before I had one. Wishful thinking I know, but I had hoped. Rubbing the back of my neck I knew I should say something but all I was able to do was nod and hang my head. I heard the clack of bowls and plates. The rustle of silverware followed. 

I bowl of steaming soup was placed in front of me. MInestrone I realized, and a plate with a grilled cheese cut in half was placed next to the bowl. Kara refilled my glass with more water and set it down in front of me.

I looked up and saw her sitting down in front of me with the same thing. I looked at the counter with the beautifully prepared chicken, and rolls. 

“I’m sorry, I ruined your dinner.” I looked down feeling like a child who had ruined Christmas for their family. I heard a small sigh.

“Has no one ever told that not everything your body or mind does is something you can control.” I looked up at her then back down quickly. I didn’t have the heart to tell her about all the times as a child I wet the bed only to have my mother slap me for waking her and make me sleep in urine soaked sheets as “punishment”. Kara honestly looked like the type of person to hunt down my mother and punish her.

“If it didn’t come up in my mothers “Parenting for Narcissists” book then she probably forgot.” Kara let out a bitter laugh and I picked up some of the sandwich. I carefully dipped it in the soup and pulled out. The soup tasted perfect, as I expected. The sandwich had a decent cheese to bread ratio. Not that I was expecting anything less.

“I haven’t  known you for long, maybe a day or so at this point, but there’s something I don’t get. You seem to be hurting a lot and from what I can tell, what ever drove you to come here terrified you so much that you decided to leave everything you know behind. Why?” I looked down thinking about what had happened, and how people I thought to be my friends acted afterwards. 

“I guess I’m prying huh? You don’t have to say anything I know you’ve only been here for less than 10 hours. So finish your soup and go to bed, maybe take a bath. Since you’re the only one  here the communal bath has a nice big tub.” I nodded and I finished my sandwich and soup I got and went to go put my dishes in the sink. “Don’t you even dare, just go take a bath and relax.”

“Kara? Thank you.” Kara waved her hand at me and moved to gather the dishes. I left to her too it.

[writing-for-amusement]

Commission for Confidence, 2

Summary:  Y/N has been struggling with her self esteem for years. After incessant pushing from your best friend, Y/N decides to commission an artist to draw her, expecting everything to happen via Internet. However, when your phone is stolen, you try to cancel the commission, but Peter Parker has other ideas. He quickly becomes enraptured by you, and a friendship forms easily. Will it lead to something more? Or will your past fears get in the way?

A/N: Okay, this chapter is necessary, but almost considered filler because you still haven’t met Peter yet. I’m probably going to post Chapter 3 in a couple of hours because I’m impatient and since it’s already written, why not, right? Anyway, I hope you enjoy it!

Taglist: @pparkerwrites, @scatterbrainedgenius

Chapter Two

The next day ended up being much more hectic than you had anticipated. You woke up on time, but due to typical New York rain, your walk was littered with slips and multiple splashes. Not only that, your train ran late, and you were groped a surprising three times.

It was not a good day and it hadn’t even started yet.

You strode into work, dripping wet and with a mud stain on the bottom of your skirt and across your legs, but with your head held high.

You enjoyed your work as an editor for a publishing company. You’d moved from home to settle down in Manhattan for this job (though you were living in Queens); you had your own office with a view, and you were doing something you enjoyed. You got to read the fiction works and decide if it was good enough to move on and become a book (sometimes you got to help artists organize their works into a book). It was lovely for you, a wonderful job to have at what was considered a “young” age.

You dropped your bag on your desk and hurried to the break room. Arthur, a friend you had made immediately upon arrival, was refilling his coffee cup. He looked up at you and grinned, but that changed into concern when he saw your haggard appearance.

“Jesus, love, what happened? Shall I call up Charlie and have him bring you some clean clothes? They’ll be too big, of course, but—”

“It’s fine, Arthur!” you laughed, grabbing the coffee mug you had put into the break room. You poured yourself a large cup and just the smell started to warm your cold bones. “I’ll dry off soon enough.”

“This isn’t your old job, you know you can go home to change and won’t be punished, right?” Arthur asked with a chuckle on his lips.

You threw a sugar packet at him. “I know that, it’s not like I’m new here anymore! Besides, if I get sick, it’s not going to cost me a kidney and a leg because we have insurance.”

“No, it won’t do that,” he agreed as he picked up the packet.

“I’m getting to work,” you informed him, clutching the mug of coffee in your hands and scuttering to your office.

Work happened to be incredibly busy. There were more than thirty transcripts on your desk to work on, several of them rather thick. You actually ended up skipping lunch, instead snacking on an apple you had shoved in your purse before leaving your apartment. Of course, you were reminded of how you worked yourself to the bone when you first arrived at this job.

With the stressful echoes of your horrible old job ringing in your mind, you had worked harder than ever to prove yourself in NYC. Your supervisor was quick to notice how you showed up early and stayed late, reading and marking more than anyone. She pulled you aside, kindly informing you that she knew you were capable, otherwise you wouldn’t have been hired for the job. She also told you to “calm the fuck down” and that, “no one is judging you here, my dear.” It had been incredibly helpful to your adjustment.

Truth be told, you had wanted to hide from your horrible morning. When the day got off to such a rough start, you liked to hide yourself in the transcripts so that you could focus on potentially bolstering the dreams of the authors.

As it neared time to go home, your supervisor appeared at your door. “Hey, Y/N, go ahead and go home. I know you showed up soaked, you deserve an early start to the weekend. Go on, go.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll go, Edith, I’ll go,” you sighed playfully. She smiled at you and blew a small kiss before walking off.

Knowing that it would be a simple night in for you, you grabbed some transcripts to look at over the weekend. With that, and your coffee mug washed, you walked out of the office and into the Manhattan late afternoon sunlight.

It was a calmer commute back to your apartment. At least, it was until you got home.

Your phone was gone.

It must have been taken while you were on the subway, even though you tried so hard to remain vigilant. Knowing New York City, it was gone forever now, and you needed to get to work on not letting people get your information from it.

You logged on to your laptop and quickly went to your phone provider, going through the steps outlined in the “Stolen Phone” section. Losing your phone was not ideal, but you had a plan that covered this situation, so it could have been worse. And, thankfully, you had just backed your phone up to the cloud when you were at work.

After filling out the proper steps, you went to your email inbox and sent out a mass email to your colleagues, letting them know that your phone had been stolen and to email you if they needed anything over the weekend. It was then that you remembered your plan to take reference photos for Peter.

With a sigh, you realized that it would be a better idea to postpone the commission than to keep the seemingly sweet Peter waiting. You began to compose your email, once again thinking too much and taking probably too long for what should have been a simple email. Still, you ended up with this:

“Hi Peter,

I am so sorry, but today my phone was stolen thanks to the ever so amazing New York City subway. I unfortunately do not have another way to take reference photos (none of my friends are available), and I don’t want to fill a spot for your commission that won’t be able to be finished for a while, because my phone is being shipped and won’t be in for about a week. Therefore, so I don’t waste your time, I need to cancel the commission. I’m sorry if I did waste your time.

Thank you for your understanding, Peter. Perhaps I can commission you (for realsies) in the future. I still love your art, btw.

Y/N”

With a deep sigh, you ran a hand through your hair and sent Monica a message on Facebook, explaining the situation. She, of course, sent back multiple sad face emojis, but was overall understanding. Then she offered to hunt down whoever stole your phone and beat them up for making you stressed, which made you laugh.

You ordered some Thai food so that you wouldn’t have to make anything. After the day you’d had, the last thing you wanted was to get sweaty from standing over the hot stove.

As you settled into your couch to wait, with your laptop open next to you so you could message Monica, you got a notification for another email. You saw it was from Peter, and a melancholy smile touched your face.

“Hi Y/N!

Omg you live in the NYC area too??? In that case, if you’re comfortable with it, we could actually do your stuff in person! Only if you’re comfortable with it, of course, and I’d like to meet for coffee before we begin. Getting to know my muse is my favorite part of commissions; usually I just ask questions via email, but this way, we both get coffee!!

Please let me know if you’d be interested in meeting up for coffee in Manhattan this weekend; I think it would be very beneficial.

Thanks, and (hopefully) see you soon!

Peter”

You blinked in surprise after reading the email fifteen times.

Peter was certainly passionate about art and about coffee. Though you didn’t blame him, because as an artist who went through a prestigious university, Peter probably lived almost solely on the beverage for four years. You debated whether you should take him up on his offer, because, well, you did want to meet him.

You were still thinking about it when you turned on your TV and selected the HULU app. You were still thinking about it when you picked a random episode of The Golden Girls. And you were still thinking about it when you answered your door for your takeout.

Finally, as you began to dig into your food, you made your decision. With your takeout container in one hand, you replied to Peter’s email with the other. You suggested your favorite coffee shop, Constellation Bakery and Café, and suggested meeting tomorrow. The ambiance was calm and friendly, so you thought it would be a good meeting place.

After informing Monica of the change in plans, you ate your Thai takeout with a vigor you didn’t know you had. The food was exceptionally delicious today, and the cooks always gave you extra shrimp in your shrimp pad Thai. The comforting food warmed you to the core, and you felt a lot more relaxed than you had in days, even weeks.

Before you went to bed, you got a reply from Peter, agreeing to meet with you at the coffee shop at 1 p.m. With an excited smile on your face, you actually fell asleep easily.

[freckled-words]

Fake It Till You Make It

This is a re-post.

This was originally prompted with “I told my sister I have a boyfriend so she’d stop trying to set me up with people, but now she’s coming to visit and I’m in too deep. I need a fake boyfriend, ASAP!”

Love to my editor @the-wild-ego

There were some days that Mare had to ask himself, “Why did I decide to befriend this person?”

That morning, the question came to the forefront of his mind. What else was he supposed to think when you barged into his bedroom, at nine in the morning?

You were a whirlwind of frantic energy, with a coffee in one hand and your keys in the other. You had simply rushed into his pitch black bedroom and began ranting while turning on his bedside light.

“Mare, I have an emergency. Not the same kind of emergency where I ripped my pants on presentation day. No, this is a Sister Emergency. By that, I mean she just would not shut up!”

Being a bounty hunter, by default, made Mare a night person. Nine in the morning was far too early for him. He growled into his pillow, trying desperately to block out your voice. He had his usual night out, canvassing for a hook-up and a pay break. He hadn’t crawled into bed until 3am.

You sat on the edge of his bed, your attention more on the space in front of you rather than on your friend trying to ignore you. “She was doing it AGAIN! Needling me about this friend, or that friend that’s single and would be promising for me. I could not take it anymore, Mare, I just wanted her to stop!”

Mare curled himself into a smaller ball under his blanket, hoping you would conclude your rant and then leave. He’d have a proper talk with you about your problems later.

“SoItoldherthatIalreadyhadaboyfriendandnowshe’scomingtovisitandwantstomeethim.PLEASEBEMYPRETENDBOYFRIEND!”

Mare’s sleep deprived brain relished in the silence that followed this last blurt. He was just starting to pass out again, and then he realized what it was you said.

He lifted the corner of his pillow, allowing you to see his bleary eyed glare. In turn, he got to see your absolutely pathetic expression with hopeful, puppy dog eyes. 

You didn’t budge, despite the chill he was sending your way. If Mare didn’t help you out, your next choice would demand a cost for the favor. 

“No.” Mare growled this just before burying himself under his pillow again.

Not accepting this answer, you launched yourself at him. You laid on top of him, bouncing you whined, “Pleeeeease Mare! It’ll only be for a few hours. Pleeeeeaaaaaase! I’ll owe you the biggest favor in the world for this!”

In a blur of movements, that left you disoriented, you suddenly found yourself buried under Mare’s blanket, and Mare on top of you. Fed up with your whining, Mare had knocked your arms out from under you, flipped over beneath his blanket, grabbed you in the blanket, then rolled you under him. 

His brown eyes were tinged grey as his power fed off his grouchy mood, “I will do this, once, and only once, after that you will tell your sister we broke up, and you will never use me for your fake boyfriend again…. You’ll also do my laundry for the next two months.”

Pinned as you were, the only part of you Mare could see were your eyes. Your gush of enthusiasm was muffled,“YES! Thank you, thank you!” You were grateful for the blanket covering your face, as the blush on your cheeks might have made Mare a bit suspicious.

Groaning, Mare got off and made his way to the kitchen to make a cup of espresso. He was going to need three of them before he was ready to leave the house. His sleep addled brain also needed some help to process his jumble of thoughts. If it weren’t for the rude wake up call, Mare wouldn’t have any hesitation in agreeing. This would be a good way for him to, at least, get a chance at experiencing what he’d been considering for some time.

You waited until Mare was out of sight before calling out to him, “One more thing! It needs to be today, she’ll be here at noon!” 

The resulting clatter of something being dropped, followed by Mare’s swearing, convinced you to stay where you were under the blanket.

A couple hours later….

You sat next to Mare, out on the patio section of your local Cactus Club. It was a restaurant that people, wearing work casual clothes, or even suits, tended to go to for lunch. They catered to meetings, but didn’t discriminate against more casual guests. 

You currently felt lumped in the casual category, dressed in your jeans, sneakers, and a zipper sweater. Mare was good looking enough to be considered well dressed, even in his black t-shirt, black denim jacket, and dark blue jeans. 

Your sister, Melanie, looked ready to become the next president of the United States. An off-white blouse; smoke grey blazer; black, form fitting pants; gold, chain necklace; tiny, gold, hoop earrings; and her hair pulled up in a tight bun. 

Melanie worked in the corporate world, and had been a go-getter all her life. She was a good, big sister, didn’t tease or make snide comments about your life. She’d pick a little, wanting to help you strive to the top of whatever field you were interested in.  For Christmas she always gave you a classy new outfit, that usually were to your tastes. Those Christmas outfits were a blessing for job interviews over the years.

“It’s really nice to meet you, Mare. I’ve heard about you over the years, and I know you two were friends, I was just waiting for the day you two got together.” Melanie practically crooned as she said this, her eyes on the menu in front of her.

Mare raised a brow at you, “You’ve been telling your family about me?”

Your eyes were glued to your menu as well, debating between the chicken tenders or the quesadilla, “Sure, you’re my best friend. It reassured my parents to know I had someone looking out for me.”

Mare made no comment, deciding instead to casually slip his arm around your shoulders, squeezing you against him with a teasing smile. 

Melanie caught this over the top of her menu, and noted the blush both wore. She was happy she spotted this, as Mare took back his arm and their blushes faded.

Her decision made, Melanie closed her menu and settled her gaze on Mare, “So, tell me, how did it happen? What changed to make you go from friends to lovers?”

Tough, paranormal, bounty hunter that Mare was, he still blushed alongside you at the word ‘lovers.’

You were quick to answer, having anticipated the question in advance, “It was one of those realization moments, ya know? We were hanging out at his place, venting about our jobs, and I just felt like, it was easy. It’s always been easy, and with him being so good looking, it was a no brainer for me to ask.”

Melanie rested her elbows on the table, her fingers locked together as she listened, “You asked? Just right then and there? That’s not usually your style, normally you take weeks to get up the nerve just to talk to a guy you’re head over heels for.”

Mare chuckled, “Y/N didn’t confess their love or anything, they just asked if we could try.” 

You smiled warmly, appreciating Mare jumping in, and adding to the illusion of them being a couple.

Melanie smiled, relaxing back in her seat, “That’s rather mature for you, being on your own has really helped your growth.”

From there things fell into an easy pattern of conversation, thankfully with Melanie wanting to learn a little more about Mare, and sharing stories of common interests.

By the time they’d had their food delivered, along with some drinks, it felt more like a group of friends hanging out than a couple under scrutiny from the big sister.

The three of you were nearly done eating when the bill was brought over. You reached to take it, and to your surprise, Mare grabbed it first, “I’ve got this. It was a treat getting to meet you, so I may as well treat you both in return.”

You and Melanie made a kind of snort/scoff at the same time, which embarrassed Melanie, as she tried to refrain from ever doing it in public. Mare thought it was cute that you two shared something like that. 

Just as he opened the slim, black folder with the bill inside, movement caught his eye. Turning to look he froze.

Taking the order from an elderly couple, three tables down, was Jacob Matthews. Mare had been trying to find the guy for weeks! He was wanted for an armed robbery. If Mare brought him in, he was looking at a whopping $5,000 upon delivery.

Smiling pleasantly back at you and Melanie, Mare put the bill back down, “If you’d excuse me a moment, I have a work matter to take care of.” 

You paled. You’d been with Mare once before, when a ‘work matter’ arose suddenly. Before you could tell Mare to leave it he was hopping out of his seat, his smoke pooling in his hands to form a semi-solid length of rope.

Melanie gaped, “Uh… Y/N… remind me what his job is again?”

“Mr. Matthews, I’d like to have a word with you!” 

Jacob Matthews looked at who was calling him out, recognized Mare, and immediately bolted.

Grinning at being given a chase, Mare swung his rope around and up in a lasso. Patrons rushed out of their chairs, clearing the space that Jacob was approaching, and where Mare was walking past.

Mare tossed the lasso forward and it immediately honed in on it’s target. The noose snagged onto Jacob’s ankle, allowing Mare to yank back hard. Thrown off, Jacob did a massive face plant onto the floor, just inches from the employees only entrance.

Covering your face with your hands you groaned, “It’s his job to make a big fucking scene.”

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

After Mare had secured Jacob in the back of his car, he’d come back and paid for the bill. The smile on his face was the brightest, happiest thing you’d seen him wear in months. 

Melanie’s opinion of Mare, thankfully, didn’t change too much. She even dared to make a joke about it, “If he can do that to catch a criminal, just be sure to use a really good safe word when playing in bed.”

She’d said this to you in a whisper, leaving Mare confused as to why you were suddenly blushing and spluttering. 

She gave Mare a hug and demanded he keep you safe. 

He smiled over at you with a wink, “That was always the plan.”

Once Melanie had driven off you fully relaxed, “Well that wasn’t the complete nightmare I thought it might turn into. Thanks for putting up with the charade.”

“It wasn’t any different than a normal outing for us. Just a little lying mixed in this time.” 

You walked alongside him back to his car. When you reached the front passenger door, Mare put a hand out that kept you from opening it.

“You know… it doesn’t have to be a lie.”

You blinked up at him. If you weren’t mistaken, that was an adorable blush on his cheeks. 

Tilting your head a bit, so his eyes would meet yours, you asked, “Are you asking seriously, or are you just getting off on the adrenaline from earlier?” You jerked your thumb at the tied up Jacob in the backseat of his car.

His mouth twitched with a smirk, “I’ve actually been meaning to ask you out for a while… you just always seemed indifferent to me, and I didn’t want to lose what we have.”

The air in your lungs whooshed out. Stepping back from him you felt your face heat up with a blush of your own, “It’s not that I’m indifferent… just…. comfortable? And what was I supposed to think when I’ve seen all the partners you drag to bed?!” You gestured to yourself, as though to remind him of exactly how you looked.

Mare’s smirk came out in full as he closed the distance between you in a couple easy steps. Leaning in close, he asked with an almost purr to his tone, “And who’s fault is it, that I’ve been dragging so many one night stands to bed, hmm? Maybe I’ve been trying to scratch a particular itch, that none of them can satisfy.”

You didn’t dare move, much less breathe! You’ve never had this side of Mare unleashed on you, and it was causing your brain to fight itself between terrified and exhilarated. 

“I…. um…..”

“You two are hot to watch and all, but if you’re going to bring me in, can you just do it already? I’m sweating to death back here.”

The simmering heat in Mare’s eyes froze over. You could only give Jacob a pitying stare when Mare leveled his glare on the man. You heard Jacob yip and watched him squirm as the smoke rope began to heat up. You knew, from experience, that it would get just hot enough to be really uncomfortable, but not painful. If Jacob had been sweating before, he was going to be a dried out husk in a puddle of his own sweat by the time they reached the police station. 

Able to get your thoughts back in order, you gave Mare a friendly poke to the chest, “Come on cowboy, let’s get this varment to the sheriff. We can talk more about us over some ice cream after.”

Mare rolled his eyes, but he was smiling again. He opened the front passenger door, and as you went past him to sit, he snuck a kiss to your cheek. 

That was his first stolen kiss, and it certainly wouldn’t be his last. He’d make sure of that.

[rpgmgames]

September’s Featured Game: Ghost Hospital

DEVELOPER(S): Lev, Kip, Rose, Tredlocity, C, Bittersweet ENGINE: RPGMaker MV GENRE: Adventure, RPG WARNINGS: Anxiety, Body horror, Implied child harm SUMMARY: Ghost Hospital is a game about anxiety, depression, despair, mental rock bottoms, and, of course, ghosts. You play as Robin, a twelve-year-old girl who has an anxiety disorder and is very much alive in this hospital meant for beings that are not alive. Frankly, her anxiety was already bad enough before she landed in a hospital full of dead people, the still-shambling shells of ancient ghosts who try to take her down for a sweet taste of life, and the hospital directors hellbent on keeping her contained, and more importantly, away from the reason she's REALLY there. Thankfully, you have your new friends Jay and Sarcastic Ghost- Jay is a ghost about your age, and still a very new arrival to the hospital, and Sarcastic Ghost…well, he's an amorphous blob of a ghost, who talks a lot despite not having a mouth.

Download the demo here!

Our Interview With The Dev Team Below The Cut!

Introduce yourself! Lev: Hey, my name is Lev! I'm an artist and storyteller, and though I've wanted to make games for a long time, this is my first serious attempt! Most of my work is about my experiences in mental illness. Kip: I'm a freelance artist being allowed to write cheap jokes in ghost form. Rose: I'm a freelance writer and editor for the game! I also work on dialogue and story drafting. Tredlocity: My name is Tredlocity! I do some character designs and writing in the game! C: c / ghoul is a character designer, comic artist and Halloween enthusiast. They're currently apart of several indie game teams and are writing the webcomic, This Dark Forest of Ours. Bittersweet: I'm Kendall (AKA Bittersweet), and I'm the resident music person (one of two, technically, but the other left the project unfortunately.) This is my first (and thus far only) major soundtrack composition project, but thus far, it's been a satisfying one!

What is your project about? What inspired you to create your game initially? *Lev: Ghost Hospital is a game about anxiety, and the game was born out of an idea to put someone in the shoes of someone with clinical anxiety and depression without going for the prototypical 'horror game' or 'walking simulator', giving more game-friendly, practical narrative and gameplay examples of how it effects people.

How long have you been working on your project? *Lev: The game started development in late 2016 as a thesis project for college. At its inital completion, it was more of a beta or proof of concept than a demo- in its current state, it's far closer to what we have envisioned for the final project.

Did any other games or media influence aspects of your project? *Lev: Absolutely! The biggest influences are OFF, Yume Nikki, and Sweet Home, and a lot of Gameboy Color graphics and aesthetics- namely, Pokemon GSC and the GBC Zelda Games.

Have you come across any challenges during development? How have you overcome or worked around them? *Lev: RPG Maker is a versatile engine, but still fairly restrictive, so getting all the effects I wanted to work was challenging. Mental illness and real life have been taking a toll on development time, too. Getting things to work took teaching myself some javascript, and after being in serious development for this long, I've found ways to motivate myself to keep working. Having other people checking in on you helps, too.

Have any aspects of your project changed over time? How does your current project differ from your initial concept? *Lev: In its very first inital pitch, it was much closer to Yume Nikki, being more atmospheric and serious. At some point in character and world development, though, I couldn't bear to make it a stoic adventure, and with most of the stuff I already take inspiration from, it's hard for me to not put jokes into the media I make, anyway.

What was your team like at the beginning? How did people join the team? If you don’t have a team, do you wish you had one or do you prefer working alone? *Lev: At the beginning, it was just me working on everything. The first people I brought on board were my concept artist, Kip, my writer, Rose, and my musician, Bittersweet. I can't do music on my own, and I knew from word go that I wanted this to be the kind of game with a strong story and a lot of unique NPCs.

What is the best part of developing the game? *Lev: Call me biased, but the most fun part is making the art for it. It's hard for me to motivate myself to keep working if I'm just using default placeholder sprites, I have to make new NPCs to keep myself interested. It's not the most convenient, but it's fun to do, and it actually really does help with my workflow.

Do you find yourself playing other RPG Maker games to see what you can do with the engine, or do you prefer to do your own thing? *Lev: Oh, absolutely. RPG Maker games have a bad reputation for being very cut-and-paste, and there's a lot of those out there. But it just takes a bit of effort to make yourself and your game stand out, and it can be done absolutely beautifully! The latest one I've played was Hylics, completely surreal and wonderful.

Which character in your game do you relate to the most and why? (Alternatively: Who is your favorite character and why?) *Lev: Robin is a sort of proxy character for myself, so...I'm a bit biased on her. I love Jay a lot, too, he's kinda the friend I wish I had in elementary school when all this first showed up, haha. *Tredlocity: As someone who faces anxiety on a daily basis, I relate to Robin a lot. Though I would say my favorite character is Jay, since he can shoot plasma and has blue hair. *C: I'm partial to Coop [upcoming character], not just bc I designed them but bc I love big sister types. *Rose: I also relate to robin and jay! i try to control my anxiety while remaining positive and hopeful about situations. *Bittersweet: As an anxiety-riddled person, I relate immensely to Robin. However, my favorite character by far has to be Carna. (There's another character I'm particularly looking forward to when the full version of the game is released, though~)

Looking back now, is there anything that regret/wish you had done differently? *Lev: Honestly, there's a few things I wanted the game to be able to do at the start that I wasn't able to make happen. I spent a LOT of time trying to get it to work without having to go in and code it myself, and I wish I'd been able to take a step back, remind myself that this is my first serious project, and just stop worrying so much about what, in the end, would've been a minor detail, anyway.

Once you finish your project, do you plan to explore the game’s universe and characters further in subsequent projects, or leave it as-is? *Lev: Chances are I'm gonna leave it alone, but if I go back, I HAVE had a bit of a 'Ghost College' AU where they're exploring a haunted old library on their college campus instead of being trapped in a ghost hospital. It'd probably be cool as a point-and-click adventure, but it wouldn't exactly be a canon exploration of the postgame.

What do you look most forward to upon/after release? *Lev: I'm actually working on a few other projects, so being able to work on those more freely would be great, especially considering I'm really bad at keeping my own limits in mind, haha.

Is there something you’re afraid of concerning the development or the release of your game? *Lev: Mostly, I'm afraid that making a game about a subject like this, as a minority and with other people in my team that would be considered minorities, that releasing this game to the mainstream public would get me a lot of negative attention from people who think that people like us don't belong in the gaming sphere. It's pretty nerve-wracking, but after the positive reception of games like Undertale and SLARPG, it's getting easier to convince myself that I should be more afraid of people just generally not liking the game, haha.

Do you have any advice for upcoming devs? *Lev: Have someone to work with! DEFINITELY have someone to work with. Even if it's just a friend to bounce ideas off of or someone to ask if you've been working on the game, having someone else involved helps a lot. And specifically for RPG Maker- if you can, replace your default font with a different one. It's a minor detail, but it goes a long way towards making your game feel more original. *C: Always have a backlog of different projects. I have about four or five ideas constantly on rotation so I don't burn myself out on just one. *Tredlocity: My advice for any creatives is to start small, and just get it out. Feedback is a great motivator, and the only way to get better at something is to keep doing it! *Rose: I think some good advice is to write a few drafts of whatever it is you're working on in order to see which version you'd like to continue! let your work have different scenarios and situations based on various elements you insert or take out of a story, game, or other piece. *Bittersweet: Don't pressure yourself to a dead-set deadline. I know, you want to get this project out eventually, and if you're on a roll with development then all the power to you, but if you're struggling, don't let it burn you out. That's just unhealthy.

Question from last month's featured dev @toxicshroomswamp: How do you feel about your main character(s)? What piece of life advice would you give them? *Lev: I love my main characters, I love them like my own children. I would probably tell Robin that she'll learn to handle everything, it won't be so scary forever. I'd tell Jay that stopping for a minute and thinking is way more important than it seems. I'd tell Sarcastic ghost to shut up.

We mods would like to thank Lev, Kip, Rose, Tredlocity, C, and Bittersweet for agreeing to our interview! We believe that featuring the developer and their creative process is just as important as featuring the final product. Hopefully this Q&A segment has been an entertaining and insightful experience for everyone involved!

Remember to check out Ghost Hospital if you haven’t already! See you next month! 

- Mods Gold & Platinum

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 054: OG!Deku Had a Fucking Taser

Previously on BnHA: Todoroki showed up to help Iida and Deku after getting Deku’s weird message in the group chat. Stain proved frustratingly tough to deal with, even after Deku’s paralysis wore off and he was able to rejoin the fight. Having previously leveled up his inner peace and clarity stats thanks to Deku, Todoroki attempted to impart this same wisdom to Iida, and it looks like it just might have worked.

Today on BnHA: Iida has more sad flashbacks of his brother, and reminds us all that he wants to be a great hero like him. Stain says Iida is selfish and that he’s going to purge society of its fakers who are warping the word “hero.” If any of this sounds familiar, it’s because we’ve been listening to this same tune for the past several chapters. Thankfully the characters seem to realize my attention span is reaching its limits, and decide to wrap this up. Todoroki cools down Iida’s legs so he can use Recipro again. Iida kicks Stain in the face at the same time Deku punches him on the other side of his face, and it’s just the therapy I needed.

(As always, all comments not marked with an ETA are my unspoiled reactions from my first readthrough of this chapter. I’ve read up through chapter 126 now (lol I’ve been stuck on the same chapter for the better part of a week), so any ETAs will reflect that.)

there is exactly one cool thing in the vol. 6 bonus features, but that one cool thing is very fucking cool.

I fucking love learning more about this type of character-building process. not sure if this is too tiny to read since I shrunk the image; here’s a link to the vol. 6 extras if anyone wants to take a closer look

it’s fascinating that Deku wasn’t originally planned to have a quirk. honestly, I think Horikoshi’s editor made the right call there. since Deku ended up having to learn how to control his new power, we still got a taste of that “having to solve problems without the use of a quirk” situation early on, but with the added bonus of getting that satisfying sense of progression as his skills with One for All gradually improve

plus, I really love the mythology of One for All so far. and All Might’s bond with Deku is one of my favorite parts of the series, so I’m really glad that was developed as well

(ETA: okay, so just let me gush for a sec. as shitty as this Donald-Trump-is-US-pres timeline is, for the past ten years there has been one thing that still gives me hope for this Berenstain universe that we all ended up in, and that’s the fact that RDJ ended up playing Iron Man in the MCU instead of Tom Cruise. that is, until now. now there are two things, and the second one is that Horikoshi Kouhei’s editor made him give Deku a fucking quirk. because after reading chapter 59, and then the Kamino arc and its aftermath, I can’t imagine this series without One for All and everything that comes along with it. everything about it is so well thought out and impeccably planned, and it just feels epic. it singlehandedly elevates the series from “this is really good, I like this” to “this is fucking great and if the series keeps this up, it can and will stand up there with the best of all time by the end of its run.”

basically what I’m saying is, One for All is good and I like it.)

but it’s still very cool to know that it wasn’t the original plan, meaning there’s some alternate universe where Deku never received a quirk and still went on to take the superhero world by storm through pure shounen guts

OG!Deku carries a fucking taser gun in his bag you guys. OG!Deku didn’t come to play

on to the new volume!

oh dang what’s this. this appears to be the first chapter I’ve read that was scanlated by fans rather than being the official Viz translation. on the one hand, yay and fuck Viz, but on the other hand I was looking forward to seeing the new volume cover lol. should I risk looking it up?

-- OH MY GOD

I’M SO GLAD I LOOKED IT UP!?!

BAKUGOU KATSUKI: ORIGIN

YEESSSSS MY ANGRY SON. NOW THAT TODOROKI AND IIDA HAVE HAD THEIR ANGSTY ARCS, IT’S ALL YOU, BOY

at least I assume. dare I hope. looll

(ETA: holy shit this series played its cards close to the chest when it came to that Kacchan angst. they did not give two fucks about how badly I wanted it! but eventually they did deliver. boy did they ever fucking deliver)

all right, I’m not going to look up any more details about that for now. we’re going into this totally spoiler-free, folks. please look forward to it. yoroshiku onegaishimasu

all right. on to the actual chapter. so the first page is just a rehash of stuff we already saw, i.e. Iida thinking about his brother and how he aspires to be like him, and then Todoroki yelling at him to do exactly that, basically. “set your eyes on the man you want to be”

now Iida is crying again and thinking, “some hero I am,” and he’s realizing how much of a shithead he was being this whole time. okay, good. I don’t hold any of it against you, Iida. you were in a rough place

looks like we’re getting more big bro flashbacks now

oh my god these brothers could not be more different in personality

just like that Tensei has endeared himself to me for life

so he says that it was partly because it runs in the family, and their parents and grandparents were all heroes, so it was natural for him to follow that path as well. but he also just wants to be that guy who helps people out, even with the little things, because he says “that kind of guy is the coolest there is.” which is such a great fucking thing to say, honestly. you never know how the smallest action can have the greatest impact. and even if it doesn’t, those little actions still add up and make the world a better place

basically this dude is the shit and I’m mad Iida already called him as his role model. damn you Iida

and now he’s ruffling small Tenya’s hair and saying that if small Tenya admires him, then he just might be a great hero after all

just look at this fucking smiling guy who loves his little brother so much and just wants to do what he can to make the world better you guys

the world does not deserve him and fuck you Stain for what you fucking did to him

now we’re back in the present and Iida appears to be entering Full Shame mode, and is thinking he’s not worthy compared to Deku and Shouto who have been acting so nobly this whole time

“but nonetheless...!” yeeess Iida, now that you have Seen The Light it’s time for you to snap out of it and join our badass U.A. All-Star Superhero Group boiiii

what the fuck is Todoroki even doing

IS THAT EVEN ALLOWED. WHAT IS THIS KID

OH MY GOD, FUCK

WHERE THE FUCK IS DEKU?? WHAT HAPPENED TO THE PLAN OF KEEPING HIS ATTENTION ON YOU?!!

(ETA: so I’ll explain right now that I didn’t realize Deku had been re-paralyzed toward the end of the previous chapter. so there’ll be several more comments to the effect of WHERE’S DEKU!? until I finally fucking realize this. please accept my sincerest apologies)

FINALLY IIDA IS GETTING UP, THE PARALYSIS HAS WORN OFF

USE THE THING IIDA OMG

YESSSSSSS

[PUMPS FIST IN AIR!!]

JESUS CHRIST. JESUS FUCKING CHRIST. TODOROKI COULD HAVE FUCKING DIED JUST LIKE THAT HOLY SHIT

IIDA BROKE STAIN’S KATANA! GOD BLESS YOU, NEW AND IMPROVED IIDA 2.0 WITH THE POWER OF SELF-REFLECTION

NOW HE’S MOVING TO KICK STAIN RIGHT IN THE FUCKING HEAD

WHERE THE HELL IS DEKU DURING ALL THIS, DID HE FUCKING DIE OR WHAT

WHAT ARE YOU DOING DEKU. ARE YOU JUST WATCHING?!

Iida is apologizing again for getting the other two involved in something they have nothing to do with. but this time it seems like it’s coming from a more resolved and stable place!

I can’t believe Stain is still out here lecturing about the evils of society instead of fucking booking it now that all three of them are out here gunning for him

he’s literally calling Iida “the cancer of society”

(ETA: Stain’s Annoying Rant Counter: 6)

now Todoroki’s calling him out for being a nutjob and he’s telling Iida to ignore him

Todoroki has been so fucking concerned with Iida’s mental well-being this whole damn time and I love it. what a good boy

but Iida’s agreeing with Stain and says he’s not qualified to bear the title of “hero”

BUT he’s not going to give up either!

Iida is going back and forth so damn much here I can’t fucking keep up. like, I’m glad he’s begun the process of becoming self-actualized now, and it’s great to see Todoroki trying to help others sort through their shit now that he’s more or less dealt with his own. but I also feel like we’ve been covering the same talking points over and over again throughout this entire fight which has now lasted like four chapters. and if I’m being totally honest, it’s starting to get just the slightest bit annoying and repetitive

like, we fucking get it. Stain thinks 99% of heroes are selfish hypocrites. Tenya really looks up to his brother and is justifiably angry about what happened. and at the same time he’s trying to live up to his brother’s name and ideals. and this whole thing is a really personal matter to him. like, we got that three and a half chapters ago. I kinda just want to finish this up already

meanwhile during all of this talking, Todoroki is blasting Stain again because obviously we’re not about to let up now, lol

the other still-paralyzed pro is shouting at Deku and Shouto to run since Stain isn’t after them. I can’t decide if I’m pleased that he’s concerned for their safety over his own, or annoyed at him for assuming that they would or could actually do that

and Todoroki says that Stain’s not giving them any openings to run away

and he’s also noticed that Stain has finally gone on the defensive now. all it took was him being outnumbered 3 to 1, and having his sword broken! wow

tbh I’m amazed he did as well as he did, all things considered. like, he definitely seems to have superhuman speed and agility, and that seems to have been the deciding factor thus far, way more than his actual quirk

(ETA: but unfortunately this is the start of a very annoying pattern of everyone lowkey worshiping the ground Stain walks on. omg Stain-sempai you’re so cool and powerful and charismatic and amazing. we’ll see this reach peak ridiculousness in another two chapters when Stain is simply so cool and riveting and captivating that every single other character winds up frozen in place just listening to him in awe.)

Todoroki is wondering why Stain hasn’t fled yet, given that he’s at an obvious disadvantage now

and he concludes that he is crazy and determined. again, what a great insight that’s already been beaten into our heads like a half dozen times by now

tbh I do like the idea of Stain as a villain, but as of now there’s just not enough to his character for him to hold my interest for such a sustained period of time. we get it, he’s wrong but he thinks he’s right! he’s a fanatic! fucking roger that!!

Iida’s looking at his boots and says his recipro is fried. which is to be expected since that always happens when he uses it, no? idk why he seems surprised

ooh but he seems to have an idea now? he’s asking Todoroki if he can regulate his leg’s temperature

Todo says he’s not used to his left side yet

but Iida doesn’t need the left side! he’s asking Todo to cool down his leg, but just enough so that his exhaust pipes don’t get blocked off

JESUS

okay I’m getting sick of this guy’s attempts to straight up murder Todoroki. I THOUGHT HE WASN’T AFTER HIM?? anyways thank you, Iida

and now Stain’s throwing another fucking knife, holy shit. is he ever gonna run out??

Iida’s shouting at Todoroki to “just do it quick”

just do it Todoroki

is Deku paralyzed again and that’s why he hasn’t done anything this whole time? I guess he must be

okay yeah I just went and looked back at the previous chapter and that’s why. Deku was apologizing to Todoroki and said he got taken out again. I got distracted by Todoroki shouting at Iida like a main character lol

anyway so now he’s recovered a second time. he still seems a little shaky, but with Iida out of commission again and Shouto also injured and not able to defend himself and Iida both, he pretty much has to make a move now

okay looks like Shouto was successfully able to cool down Iida’s engines, but Stain is already in mid-leap heading right for them

IS IIDA FUCKING PULLING THIS SWORD OUT OF HIS OWN ARM WITH HIS OWN FUCKING TEETH

WTF, THIS IS THE MANLIEST FUCKING THING ANYONE’S EVER DONE??

“I’ll give up this arm” WHAT THE FUCK WHAT DOES THAT MEAN

he’s using Recipro again

and now he’s charging toward Stain

and so is Deku!!

omgggggg

YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

HOLY SHIT THE FUCKING DOUBLE TEAM YESSSSS

THAT’S THE END OF THE CHAPTER, BUT HOLY SHIT. IF THAT DOESN’T FINALLY KNOCK HIM OUT I’LL BE SO FUCKING PISSED OFF LOL

BONUS:

(I didn’t look up any of the bonus volume pages until after I’d read chapter 62, just FYI. so all of this is ETA stuff from my post-chapter 62 self.)

first, the volume title page is Jirou and Momo being lesbians!

at least, that’s 100% the vibe I’m getting here and no one can convince me otherwise

and now, the actual bonus page:

oh my god his vest automatically applies heating or cooling as needed based on his body heat. why the hell didn’t he have this costume to begin with. he had a weird costume at the start of the series that he wore like once and then never used again. oh well I shouldn’t be complaining about a vast improvement

it’s also nice to see he got himself a costume that wouldn’t immediately catch fire when he does his thing!

utility belt! he should add some wire rope to that thing so he doesn’t have to use easily-breakable dumpster twine the next time he has to apprehend a villain unexpectedly

and his boots have cleats! smart! but that probably makes things more difficult on those occasions when he wants to use his ice for sliding on though

ALL IN ALL, THEY’RE COOL ON HIM DON’T YOU THINK??????! lol

[marril96]

The Grudge

Pairing: Rowena x reader

Summary: Rowena gets kidnapped. Reader enlists Sam’s help in rescuing her.

Editor: @oswinthestrange

Read on AO3.

You weren't fond of asking the Winchester for help, but when Rowena got kidnapped by someone you greatly suspected was a hunter, you'd had no other choice than to show up at the Bunker's door in tears and beg for assistance. Sam had agreed to help you as soon as the words "He took Rowena" left your mouth. Dean was still in the wind, body taken hostage by Michael, wreaking god knew what kind of havoc somewhere far, far away, carefully warded from all kinds of locator spells. As much as it pained him, Sam couldn't help him; not yet.

But he could help Rowena.

As soon as he saw the surveillance video taken in front of your house, he recognized the man sneaking up to Rowena, injecting her with something, and dragging her limp body to his van. Just as you'd suspected, he was a hunter. Sam and Dean had met him on a case a few months back. From what the younger Winchester had told you, the man was not a fan of witches — and that was putting it mildly.

You shuddered at the information, heartbeats fastening, breaths quickening, cold, dreadful shivers cascading down your spine. It took all your remaining self-control to keep the devastated sobs from tearing from your throat. Now was not the time for breakdowns. Sam had noticed your struggle and was quick to assure you that everything would be okay. Rowena was tough, he'd said. Whatever the bastard had intended to do to her, she could take it. She would survive, just as she'd survived witch hunts, The Grand Coven, The British Men of Letters, and Lucifer. If the Devil himself couldn't take her out for good, neither could a lowly hunter.

A lowly hunter with a seething hatred for witches, who had followed her home for the sole reason of taking her.

You knew a grudge when you saw one.

Oh, god. No, no, no, no, no.

Breathe. You had to breathe. Sam was right; Rowena was strong. She could take whatever torment the bastard had intended to inflict on her. You hoped it wouldn't come to that. Though, if given a choice between witch-killing bullets and torture, you would always go with the latter. Injuries could be taken care of. Death, final death, could not.

The only thing you could do was hope the hunter hadn't discovered witch-killing bullets.

Thankfully, Sam knew where the bastard lived, and as soon as he'd recognized him, the two of you were on your way. Words swirled in your brain the entire way there; words of worry, of anxiety, of everything wrong and bad that could have happened to Rowena in the last few hours. How badly had the bastard tortured her? If he wanted her dead, he would have killed her on the spot. He wouldn't have taken her just to kill her right away. A real witch hater would make it last, prolong the agony of the object of his scorn.

You hoped he had. As much as the thought of Rowena being tortured yet again filled you with dread, it was a preferable alternative to death. Let him hurt her. Let him hurt her all he wanted, but Chuck, let him leave it at that. Let her be there when you and Sam show up, bruised and battered but alive. Let her open her eyes and look at you, her lover, her soulmate, her savior. Let her say your name, and let you hold her tight and make promise after promise of getting her well.

Let her live.

No matter at what cost, just let her be alive.

The hunter lived in a village. His house, small, wooden, seemingly unkempt, was surrounded by a thick forest spreading for almost a mile in every direction. No close neighbors. No passersby. No witnesses. He could run a torture business here without having to worry about sound isolation; no one could hear his victims scream for miles. You swallowed a lump that had formed in your throat, the the thought sending your mind into overdrive, pictures of bloodied walls and burnt up remains flashing in your mind. A breath, and you could smell charred flesh again, the aroma as fresh as the day you'd first smelled it. It had made sure you would never forget it.

God, how you wanted to forget it.

She's fine, you told yourself. She wasn't burned. She couldn't be burned. This was a hunter you were dealing with. As cruel as they could be, they weren't the Devil. Nothing they could do could compare to what Lucifer was capable of doing, not in the slightest. And Lucifer was dead; he'd paid for everything he'd done to her, to Sam, to countless other innocents with his own life.

Soon, this hunter would be joining him.

Sam took out his gun and stalked over to the house. You followed a this heels, looking around for any sound of danger. The last thing you wanted was for the bastard to sneak up on you from behind. Predators tended to be very protective of their prey; he wouldn't let you take your girl without a fight.

You were more than ready to fight to the death to get her back.

Sam peeked inside through a dirty window, then opened the door and, raising up on the tips of his toes, slowly stepped inside. You followed his example. Looking around one last time, you closed the door after you, careful not to make a noise. The house looked even smaller from the inside. It was dirty, furniture and clothes scattered around and covered in thick layers of dust. You instinctively brought a hand to your face, shielding your mouth and nose from the filth. Old family photographs hung on the walls. Some depicted a family of three, mother, father, and son, all of them flashing smiles. A genuinely happy family, from what you could see. Some were only of the mother, of the son, and of the father. Others featured the son with either parent. They were smiling on every single one. One of those constantly happy families. Or good actors. Everything was possible.

A loud whining sound suddenly echoed throughout the small house, followed by a shout of insults and orders to shut up. You froze, eyes going wide as they met with Sam's equally startled ones. He hurried in the direction of the noise, you right in tow. Please, be okay, you prayed. Please, be okay. Please, be okay. Fear made way to anger, and your fists and teeth clenched. The bastard had harmed your girl. You were going to kill him.

You couldn't protect her from Lucifer, but you could damn well make some lowly human pay for what he'd done.

"Get away from her!" Sam barked, pointing his gun into the small room in the back of the house.

What you found inside made blood freeze solid in your veins.

Rowena was covered in bruises. Her face was red and purple, as if someone had smeared crayons over it, using her skin as a canvas for their morbid artwork. Her white blouse was dirty, drenched in blood that had dripped from the wounds on her face. Chains hung from the ceiling, binding her wrists up over her head. Iron, you assumed. You expected nothing less from a witch-hating hunter. Her feet were bare, one firmly placed on the ground, while the other hovered in the air, its sole, as well as the floor underneath it, covered in jelly-like, almost dry blood.

She's alive, you told yourself. She was injured, but alive. You tried to focus on that. The more you looked at her, though, the harder it was to be joyful. She was beaten up. Tortured. Abused. She kept her pained screams hidden, but she was still hurting. Her wounds still stung.

You wanted to cry, but you held the tears back. You needed to be strong for Rowena. You needed to be her rock, her safe haven. You needed to be what she needed you to be — what she'd been for you countless times in the past.

"Rowena!" you called out before you could stop yourself, the need to say her name out loud, to make your presence known, to let her hear you overriding your other senses.

Rowena shifted her gaze to you. Her eyes were as tormented as her body, as wounded, as pained. The look in them was pleading, begging you to be careful, and, at the same time, begging you to free her, to get her away from this hell.

"I can't do that, Sam," the hunter said, gritting his teeth. He was standing beside her, fists and clothes bloody. You were willing to bet none of it was his.

Anger flared inside you as if someone had flicked on a switch and turned the setting up to max. That man — that monster — had no business standing that close to her. He had no business looking at her like she was nothing, like she was an object rather than a person, while his hands were still dripping with her blood — blood that he had drawn with merciless beatings. And he had no business looking that fucking smug about it.

"Come on, man," Sam said, trying to reason with him. His grip on his gun tightened. "You know better than this."

"This is my hunt," the man told him. "Stay out of it."

Sam took a moment to look at Rowena, then his eyes returned to the hunter. "This isn't a hunt, Dan."

"This thing's a witch!" he said as if it explained everything, and pointed to your girlfriend. It took all your self control not to hurl yourself at him. Rowena was many things, but she wasn't a thing. She was a person. She felt and loved and hurt, just like everyone else.

You couldn't say the same for Dan.

"She's a friend," Sam said.

Dan looked at him as if he'd grown a second head. "You're friends with… this?" He gave a small but firm shove to Rowena's side, eliciting a whimper. A look of betrayal spread across his face. "Do you know what your friend did, Sam?"

You didn't care. Whatever it was he was blaming her for, you didn't give a damn. You loved her as she was, with all her flaws and virtues. She was by no means perfect; she was far from it, and that was what made her perfect to you. She carried her flaws with pride, unapologetically, not giving a damn what anyone else said. One of her many qualities you adored.

"She killed my father," Dan said, without waiting for Sam to respond.

"It was self-defense," Rowena said, looking from you to Sam. Begging you both to believe her. "That man had tried to kill me. I was defending myself."

"Shut up!" Dan exclaimed, slapping her across her face so hard the sound echoed, loud, painful, through the room.

"Don't touch her!" you snarled, ready to lunge at him. Sam's arm wrapped around the small of your back, keeping you in place.

"My father was a good man. A good hunter. He was just doing his job, and this cunt killed him!"

What was she supposed to have done? Let him kill her?

"She killed one of our own, Sam," Dan said, voice a tad lower. Trying to elicit sympathy. You hoped Sam wouldn't fall for that, but, knowing him, you couldn't rule anything out. As friendly to non-humans as hunters could be, they rarely turned on their own. Especially when it came to a witch who'd killed one of them. "How can you be friends with someone like that?"

"It was self-defense, Sam, I swear," Rowena said, desperate, pleading. You never doubted her, not for a mere second, but now you were one hundred percent sure she was telling the truth. She always called Sam Samuel, or giant, or some other witty nickname. She only ever used his actual name when she was genuine.

"She's a cold-blooded killer!" Dan said before Sam could say anything.

It was a split-second decision. You stepped forward and snatched the gun from Sam's outstretched hand. Stunned, startled, he had no time to react, no time to try to stop you. You pointed the gun at Dan, directly between his eyes, and, letting all your frustration, your anger, your rage out, said, "I don't give a fuck."

And you pulled the trigger.

A shot echoed, and blood spurted out the back of his head, spraying the wall behind him like paint from a can. His body fell down with a thud, dead, lifeless. Dan the hunter was no more.

You couldn't resist a triumphant smile. The bastard had kidnapped Rowena, chained her up, and tortured her without a single care in the world. He wanted her to pay for his father's death, to hurt, to beg for mercy only he and he alone could provide her — mercy he would never, ever have given her. And you killed him. You made him go away. You protected your girl, just like you promised you would every time she'd wake up covered in sweat or break into tears at random as bad memories suddenly hit. You made good on your word. A sense of accomplishment settled down inside of you, feeling right at home; as pretentious as it may have seemed, you were proud of yourself.

"You didn't have to kill him," Sam told you.

Right. Of course. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. "Can't you see what he did to her?" You looked to Rowena's wounded, chained up form.

Sam followed your eyes, features twisting with guilt. "You could have wounded him."

You shot him a glare that threatened murder. You'd already killed once today; if threatened, or too annoyed, you wouldn't hesitate to do it again. "Would you be saying that if he wasn't human?"

He sighed, then turned his head to the side. He had the decency to look ashamed.

Shoving the gun back into his hands, you hurried over to Rowena. There were more important matters at hand than arguing over the morality of killing a psychotic hunter. He hurt your girl and you killed him. Easy as that. If Sam had an issue with it, he was more than welcome to email you at idontgiveafuck@gmail.com and express his deepest concerns. Surely that would make him feel better.

"I'm right here, sweetheart," you said, voice softening, hunter drama instantly forgotten. All that mattered now was freeing Rowena and getting her to safety. Her wounds, while not grave, needed care. She'd suffered enough for one day.

"About bloody time!" she said with fake exasperation, playfulness glinting in her eyes. Have you not known her, you would have taken offense.

"I came, didn't I? Even brought reinforcements."

"Some reinforcements they are," she said, then gave Sam a small smile. He returned it. When dealing with pain — or any other kind of physical discomfort — turn to shit-talking. Rowena's life motto.

"Don't be mean," you said.

"Or what? You'll leave me?" You shot her an incredulous look. She sighed. "Just joking, darling."

"Don't joke about things like that," you told her. You went to hug her, then, remembering she'd been tortured for hours and had probably had terrible bruises under her clothes, lowered your arms and settled for pressing your forehead to hers. Far from the closeness you craved, but it was something. Bare minimum was more than appreciated, given the circumstances. As always, her skin was warm, almost hot against yours, soft and tender as the finest silk. You melted into the touch, wanting more, so much more. Rowena was an addictive creature; one simple, seemingly meaningless touch, and you were hers. You wanted more. She was a drug, and you never wanted to quit her. "I'd never leave you, sweetheart. Never."

"I know, darling," Rowena whispered.

"Can you hold her while I undo the chains?" Sam asked, looking up at her chained up wrists.

"Of course."

Gently, you put your arms around her. The Winchester worked fast, freeing one then the other wrist in no time. Rowena fell against you, losing her balance, and your grip on her tightened to keep you both on your feet.

"Can you walk?" Sam asked.

"No," Rowena replied. "He cut my foot." Her voice was thick with scorn.

You grit your teeth in anger. "I wanna kill him all over again," you hissed. This time you wouldn't shoot him; that was too merciful for a sadist. You would torture him until he begged you to stop, until he begged for the sweet release of death. You would make sure the last breath he ever took hurt like a bitch. The bastard deserved nothing less.

"My wee savage," Rowena teased, giving a small chuckle.

"For you, always."

"Och, you're making me blush." Her voice grew a tad serious. "The bloody bastard didn't like me kicking him."

"That why he cut you?"

"Aye."

"Well, you can pack a mean kick." Sam raised an eyebrow. You shrugged. "I sleep with her. She's formidable."

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Rowena said.

"Isn't it?" you asked. She pouted. You grinned. "I'm proud of you."

"For what? Getting myself kidnapped and battered?"

She was jumped; the bastard had sneaked up on her from behind like the coward he was. No self-assured hunter would have sneaked up on his prey, drugged her, and then drove her away in his van — on that note, creepy much? — and bound her with chains he knew would nullify her power. He was a weak man, both in terms of physicality and personality. He'd created an unfair advantage for himself and taken it. You couldn't hold that against Rowena.

Hell, even if she had been able to fight him off and had somehow lost, you wouldn't blame her. She was the victim here. She was tormented and abused for hours. She was beaten, and shouted at, and cut. Even if you wanted to. you couldn't find it in you to point a finger at her.

"For being brave," you said.

Rowena stared, startled. She hadn't expected you to say something like that, in front of witnesses, no less. Usually, you saved the mushy stuff for the privacy of your home. Quickly regaining her composure, she raised her head high, proud, confident, and said, "Did you expect anything less?"

"You know I didn't."

You just wanted her to know you were proud of her. You wanted her to know it every second of every day, for if anyone deserved to be acknowledged, even when it came to usual, mundane things, it was her. She'd been taken for granted, ridiculed, and ignored for long enough. It was time someone acknowledged her.

She knew it. You didn't have to continue the sentence out loud for her to know what you had meant to say. A smile graced her battered face, love, gratitude, affection shining bright and strong in that small curl of lips. Beautiful, even in the aftermath of a horrible ordeal. Rowena in all her glory. All she had to do was flash a genuine smile, and suddenly all was right in the world. At times you thought that smile should be illegal. Nah. It was already rare enough as it was, and reserved mostly for you. No point in making fruit that was already all but forbidden even less accessible.

Sam had offered to carry her. Rowena protested, but given the condition of her foot (you hadn't had time to examine it, but her holding it up in the air and refusing to even lower it to stand on her tiptoes was indicator enough that the wound was very, very bad), she had no choice but to let him scoop her up in his arms and carry her to the Impala. Her wounds protested the movement and she let out a few hisses and moans, but for the most part, she kept her mouth shut. Mustn't show weakness. Sam seeing her bruised and bloody was embarrassing enough.

You slid into the backseat and and helped Rowena get comfortable as Sam laid her down beside you. Her head rested on your lap. As Sam got in the driver's seat and started the car, you grabbed hold of her hand and squeezed. Rowena squeezed back with equal ferocity. The two of you hadn't felt each other in hours; a lot had transpired since your last display of affection. She needed you to make her feel better, to make all the bad she'd gone through fade, at least for a little while, in place of good. You were more than willing to comply.

You rode in silence for a while before Rowena broke it.

"It was self-defense."

"What?" Sam asked, throwing a quick glance at the backseat.

"Dan's father. I killed him in self-defense," she explained. Her voice was uncharacteristically weak, almost broken. She needed you to know what had happened. More than that, she needed Sam to know. The hunter had only recently become her friend. He'd given her a second chance at a time she most needed it. He was one of the few people who believed in her, who saw in her capacity for kindness, for redemption. She couldn't stand the thought of him doubting her.

"You don't have to explain," you told her, tightening your grip on her hand for emphasis.

It was no secret to you that she used to be a terrible person; she was one when you'd first met her. You'd learned long ago not to hold it against her. She was a product of a hard, cruel life. It wasn't an excuse for her actions, but it explained them. While you didn't approve of everything she'd done, you didn't hate her for it. You loved her too much to even consider the emotion.

Rowena was special, unique. She had flaws, countless of them, but she had just as many, if not more, virtues. Loving her, while far from easy, was one of the best decisions your heart had ever made.

"I do," she said. "It was ten years ago. It's no secret I used to be a horrible person, but in this case, I was attacked unprovoked. I was minding my own business when that hunter showed up and tried to kill me. Almost succeeded, too. I got lucky and killed him, instead." Her lower lip trembled. "I had to, Sam."

Much to both of your surprise, he said, "I know."

"Please, believe me."

"I do."

Rowena let out a long, shaky breath, as if a heavy burden had been lifted from her shoulders.

"Hunters aren't saints," Sam said. "Believe me, I've met my fair share of rogues. Some of them cross the line. Hell, there were times I crossed the line. You don't have to feel bad for defending yourself."

"Everyone has a right to defend themselves, witch or not," you said.

"Yeah," Sam agreed. "Now, some people may hold it against you, but I don't. You've made progress. What happened before doesn't matter. I'm not saying you shouldn't feel remorse for hurting innocent people, but some things you have to let go. You weren't all bad back then. No one is. Even the most evil people sometimes get treated unjustly."

Rowena nodded, taking in his words. You had to admit you didn't expect this. You knew Sam could be lenient, but this… He'd managed to surprise you — for once, in a good way. Maybe his and Rowena's friendship wasn't such a bad idea after all.

The rest of the ride was silent. There was a bit of a debate over whether to take you and Rowena to the Bunker or your own home, but it was quickly decided that your home was the place to go. Rowena's injuries, while bad, seemed rather mild in comparison to what Lucifer had inflicted on her a year ago. It was hard, and you'd made mistakes, but overall you'd managed to help her to the best of your ability; she'd had no complaints about your care. You could handle cuts and bruises. Both of you were immensely grateful to Sam for offering his assistance, but you didn't need it. He'd done more than enough for you both today.

Sam carried Rowena inside. You led him to the bedroom and instructed him to lower her there. Rowena argued at first, not wanting to get blood on the bedclothes, but you quickly shot her down. Sheets could easily be changed and washed. There was no reason for her to lie on the couch when the bed was right there, big and soft and, most important of all, comfortable. She needed comfort more than anything now.

You walked Sam to the door and thanked him profusely. The extent of your gratitude couldn't be put in words. You offered him a favor, but he said there was no need; Rowena was his friend and he was glad to have been able to help. All he asked was that you take good care of her, something you were more than eager to do. Rowena would get the best kind of care you could provide her.

"Okay," you said as you looked over the necessities you'd brought to the bedroom, making sure you had what you needed. A small bucket of clean warm water, a few cloths, baby wipes, and bandages. Everything was there. Perfect. "Let's get started."

Rowena groaned. As much as she needed help, she hated the process of getting it. You couldn't blame her; someone's hands all over you, touching everywhere, poking and prodding at your already aching wounds as they cleaned them would make you uncomfortable, as well. She was a confident woman, used to independence. Being weak in front of someone she knew would never exploit it still bothered her — probably more than she was willing to let show. Too many had used that state of hers to take advantage and left her for dead. Two years of genuine relationship couldn't erase that kind of trauma.

"Hey, this is for your own good," you said sweetly. Your preferred tone for speaking with her when she was like this. Show her kindness, and she would give in. She always did. Contrary to what most people seemed to believe, Rowena reacted well the kindness. She just needed a chance, and a bit of time. Two little things, yet people were often too cheap to give them to her. All they saw was an evil witch. You saw the love of your life, aching, traumatized, and in need. "I'll be gentle."

Rowena grinned. "You better," she said in mock threat.

"Or what?" you teased.

"I will hex you."

"Oh, I'm scared."

"You should be!"

"And would the hexing take place before or after I patch you up?"

She pondered on it a short moment. "After. It's awfully hard to do magic in this condition."

"Seems kinda unfair," you said. "I take care of you, and you hex me."

She shrugged nonchalantly. "Life is not fair, darling."

"What's stopping me from just walking away and leaving you here?"

"You love me." She gave you her biggest puppy eyes, and adorned the already adorable, irresistible expression with a pout.

You chuckled. "My little manipulator." You took her hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles, then leaned down to kiss the top of her head. She always won the banter games. "Need something for the pain?"

Rowena shook her head. "I'm good. Though I could use a cup of tea." She shot you a pleading look, puppy eyes still in place.

"After I finish, okay?"

She nodded.

You engaged in small talk as you worked. If you kept her talking, you thought, it would keep her mind focused on something other than the pain. It seemed to be working. Rowena hissed and groaned as you wiped and dabbed at the blood on her face, carefully cleaning it. She gave no protests, though. Other than the occasional plea to be more gentle, she let you work in peace.

Her foot was a bitch to clean. There was a lot of blood, and in its center was a terrible-looking cut. The bastard had cut her deep. You grit your teeth in anger. If only you'd wounded him. You could have cut him just like this, all over his body. A taste of his own medicine would have taught him not to torture people you loved. The injury required stitches, but Rowena insisted that you only bandage it. She would heal herself tomorrow, she said. There was no point wasting your time on an injury that would be gone as soon as she got some rest and replenished her strength. She could handle a bit of pain; it would only be for a few hours. You tried to argue, but it was no use — her mind was made up. So you did as she asked. It was her body. If she said she would be okay, you respected it.

Undressing her almost made you weep. You knew there would be bruises under her clothes, but never, in your wildest dreams, could you have predicted her chest and abdomen would be black and blue. Rowena, taking notice of your concerned expression, was quick to assure you she was okay. They were just bruises, she sad. Just marks on her skin. They didn't even hurt unless touched. Just like the cut on her sole, they would be gone in less than twelve hours.

Which meant she would be in pain for almost twelve hours. The realization pierced painful holes through your already aching heart.

Once you were done, you helped Rowena put on a nightgown and tucked her into bed, taking great care not to aggravate her injuries too much as you assisted her to move under the covers and made sure she was wrapped up good and warm. She was cooperative, and that made it easier. In the past, she used to complain about every single thing, at times outright refusing help. Needing help meant she was weak, and she was not weak, and she was more than willing to prove it by being as difficult as possible and making her injuries worse in the process. You were glad those days were behind you.

"Need anything else?" you asked, on your way to make her tea.

Rowena shifted uncomfortably. Her cheeks flushed red, embarrassed, shameful. She averted her eyes for a short moment, then locked them back with yours, the look in them sad, broken, expecting judgment. "Could-could I get something for the pain?"

"Of course! I'll make you a potion," you replied, and she nodded, breathing out in what appeared to be relief. Your lips brushed against the top of her head in a soft kiss. She had nothing to be ashamed of. Dan was the one who did this to her. If anyone should have been ashamed, it was him. "Anything else? You hungry?"

She shook her head. "Could you stay with me? When you return."

"That was the plan," you said, flashing her a wide, loving smile.

She returned the gesture. "And when I sleep?"

"I'll be here," you promised. "You gonna do something for me?"

"What?" she asked.

"Stay in bed. If you need something, I'll get it for you. If you need to go to the bathroom, I'll take you. I don't want you walking on that foot until it's healed."

"I am not a child, Y/N" Rowena said defiantly.

"No, but you're hurt. Let me help."

She stared at you for a moment, then rolled her eyes. "Fine, fine. So bossy."

"So stubborn," you retorted. She hmphed. You giggled, which earned you a glare, and when that didn't help, a pout. "Cutie."

"I am not cute."

"You're adorable."

She scowled in disapproval.

"Be a good girl, and once all this is over, you and I can engage in some… unchildlike activities," you proposed.

That caught her interest. "I like the sound of that."

You laughed. You knew she would.

With a kiss to the tip of her nose, you went to prepare her desired beverages. When you returned, you found Rowena exactly as you'd left her; on her back, cocooned in blankets like a newborn, and pouting. You went to take a quick shower while she drank her tea. You tried to hold the cup of potion up to her mouth, but one glare from her was enough for you to drop the idea. She was a big girl. Injured and a wee bit helpless, but still big. She didn't need help drinking. Oh, well. Her choice. You stuck around until she finished the potion, though, much to her displeasure, just to be sure she could do it. Better safe than sorry.

By the time you returned, the tea was long gone. You slid under the covers and turned on your side so you could face her. Without a word, Rowena turned to you and snuggled close. She kept her lips firmly shut, but the grimaces gave away her pain.

"Are you sure this is okay?" you asked as she settled against you, warm and soft like a kitten seeking comfort.

"Aye," she replied. She looked up at you. "Unless you don't want to hold me."

"When have I ever said no to that?" Never, and you never would. "I just don't wanna hurt you."

A few years back, she would have been irritated at the suggestion. Now, she just smiled. She knew you wouldn't patronize her, or make her out to be a helpless victim who can't do anything on her own. You were just worried. You cared about her. You loved her. Your words came from a place of concern rather than mockery.

"Och, I'll be fine. I'm not made of glass, Y/N. If anything bothers me, I will tell you. As you know, I can be quite vocal about that."

Wasn't that the truth. If there was one thing you knew about Rowena, it was that she could complain about anything. Anything. From the weather to her tea not being the right temperature; nothing was off limits. The woman had no filter. If she was bothered by something, no matter how miniscule it was, she made sure anyone in close vicinity knew about it.

You laughed. "Yeah, I know."

Gently, carefully, you put your arms around her. You held her to you; you expected a hiss or groan of protest, but when none came, you allowed yourself to tighten your grip a bit and bring her closer. She fit against your body perfectly, like a piece of a puzzle created solely for your body. A tender little thing she was. It was easy to forget this outspoken, tough woman was frail. That she could hurt and feel and break apart just like everybody else. That she was a person with twice as many virtues as flaws.

"This good?" you asked.

"Aye," Rowena replied.

"You okay?"

She nodded. "The potion is working."

You swallowed, expression suddenly growing sullen. "No, I meant, are you okay about today?"

"You mean, being kidnapped and tortured?"

Expect her to be blunt.

"Yeah."

"Eh," she said with a tad of nonchalance. "Been through worse."

That was an understatement of the century.

"I know, but still…"

"Like I said, dear, I'm not made of glass. It's not my first encounter with a hunter. Or torture. I'm alive. He's not. Besides, he was an amateur." She snorted. "Beating, really? You'd think a hunter would know how to properly torture a witch."

You sighed. Expect her complain about the technique and quality of torture. Rowena MacLeod, ladies and gentlemen!

"Babe, you're something else," you commented.

"You knew that when you met me," she said.

"That I did."

Sticking by her was the best choice you'd ever made.

"Be here when I wake up?" Rowena said after a quiet moment.

"I'm not going anywhere," you said.

The two of you settled, closed your eyes, and slowly, one by one, drifted off into safe, peaceful sleep.

Tags: @werewolfbarbie @oswinthestrange @darktweet @songofthecagedmoose @apurdyfulmind @getthesalt-sam @metallihca @royalrowena @salembitchtrials @jay-eris @hellsmother @elizabeth-effie @victoriasagittariablack @rowenaswife @dropsofpetrichor @fromflametofire @xfireandsin @liddell-alien @elaspn @cas-loves-dean-and-i-love-him @faeyla @hotdiggitydammit @thaiinette