#that little smile towards her lap and then straightening herself quickly

[bakvrue]

luminance

genya x reader, 1.4k, genya is taller than you, fluff, fem reader, maybe unsafe swimming practices, divider by saradika

“How did you hear about this again?”

Genya’s hand is in yours as you lead him along a dark path. The trees and bushes towering over you are bathed in nothing but the light of the stars as their leaves dance in the wind.

“The little old ladies in town told me about it. They said that it’s a town tradition to go, so we have to!”

You hold his hand a little tighter, asking him to trust you. 

You’re only here for a small mission but you quickly came to love this small town and all of its people; the grandmas who pile food on your plate, the kids who run up to you to hold your hand, and the streets that make you feel like you're walking home. 

You smile remembering the faces of the women who told you about the town’s unique lore, their whispers and giggles had followed you all week as they watched you and Genya patrol the town together. They saw you hang off his every word, how your heart flutters every time he looks at you for too long, and how his face turns red every time you catch him. 

He looks at you as if you molded the sun in your two hands and you look at him as if he hand-carved every crater on the moon. How could they not notice?

But what you neglect to tell Genya is what the town’s folklore actually says. 

The dirt path slowly gives way to sand as you continue to walk and the stars guide you until you hear the faint sound of waves crashing. 

The path straightens out in front of you and your breath hitches in your throat.

The sea meets the horizon in an explosion of stars, interstellar colors dance across the water that crashes along the rocky beach, and with each break of waves a bright blue sparkle dances along the sand. The blue sparkle glows so brightly, you’ve never seen anything like it.

“Wow,” you sigh with wonder. Your body feels lighter than it has in years, the beauty catches you off guard and you can hardly take your eyes off of the crashing waves.

Genya squeezes your hand tightly and your gaze turns to him. He opens his mouth but he doesn't have the words he wants to say yet. There's a familiar feeling in his chest, like an old memory waking up from a thousand years of slumber.

“Come on, let's get closer!”

You let go of his hand and run towards the beach, your arms held out to your sides like a little kid running toward the ocean for the first time. 

And his memory comes flooding back. 

His mother sits along the banks of the river that runs near his childhood home. The sun casts shadows through leaves onto her hair as she mends the holes in his younger brother's clothing. Most of his siblings are all playing in the shallow water, their giggles and shouts bouncing off of the river's surface, but Koto, his youngest brother, sleeps gently in Genya’s lap.

“Genya,” his mother calls, remembering the sound of her voice for the first time in a long time. He takes a deep breath in and watches you reach the glowing water's edge. “Genya, my wish for you is to find someone who shows you what it’s like to have wonder. You and your brother take care of our family so well, you both grew up so fast. You’ll meet someone—”

The tiny version of himself cuts her off, “Like a wife?” Baby Genya’s eyes pop open, his face growing more and more red, and his mother chuckles to herself 

“Something like that,” she smiles at him and Genya looks down at his sleeping brother in his lap. “I can take Koto,” she motions to him. puts down her sewing as the Shinazugawa sisters come running up, begging to play with him.

“Come on Genya!” “The water is so cold!” “You have to play with us!”

Another nod from his mother and he gives in. Sumi pulls at his hand while Teiko runs ahead of them, her arms spread out to her sides before she jumps in the water.

The sun from that day fades and he sees you smile at him.

You extend a hand to him, inviting him to join you.

He’s heard the tales of this beach, and even the old wives tale the women have probably told you. He takes a deep breath and exhales. 

Wonder, huh?

He kicks off his shoes and gives you a dastardly smile, one that you're soon to regret.

“Genya, what are you—” 

He runs at you, catching you off guard. This mountain of a man gets to you in mere seconds and throws you onto his shoulder. You scream and laugh as he continues running into the water, each glowing step getting slower and slower as the water rises. Every splash he makes in the water glows brighter blue.

“The water’s freezing!” you squeal as the bioluminescent waves splash against your heels.

He takes one final step, “Better hold your breath!” He laughs before dunking you both underwater.

You surface quickly and realize the water is only waist deep, you keep your shoulders under the water. The night air touching your wet clothes is colder than the water now.

Genya surfaces and flips his hair back, the sea sparkle illuminating his face with a beautiful blue glow. He takes your hand in the water and pulls you to him and in turn you wrap your arms around his neck, not letting your nerves have any say in this moment. You’ve never been this bold with each other, hugging quickly or poking at him or sleeping on his shoulder is the closest you've been. But now you're face to face.

You playfully slap at his chest for dunking you, stirring up the water and with it and even more blue blossoms around you. You don't have the heart to chastise him, even as pretend, so you just laugh. And he joins in, his head falling back in true laughter.

Watching him laugh, the way his eyes wrinkle at the corners and how each laugh comes with rippling blue waves… you don't think you've ever felt this happy in your whole life. 

His laughter slows and he sighs your name, bliss leaking out of his every pore. His hand rises out of the water and he cups your neck. 

Any last nerves you had melt away just looking at his face. This is the man that you… You stop yourself. Maybe you shouldn't say it yet, even in your own head. But the man that you like very much, and the two of you are floating in the ocean together, not a care in the world. 

Your breathing starts to match his as the two of you fall into sync. Your eyes map out every feature of his face, committing it to memory as his eyes fall to your lips.

Genya’s face starts turning red, the glowing algae gives him away, but you're sure that it's doing the same for you. Letting him see every imperfection you have, every scar and doubt and negative thing about you. And he's here anyway. His heart is so close to yours that you can practically feel it beating in time with yours.

His lips are soft against yours as you breathe him in. A culmination of everything you've ever felt for him being poured out under this night sky. Your arms tighten around him, holding onto him with everything you have. Your ache to be closer, your desire to have him all to yourself, to give him every piece of yourself and watch him cradle it, and then to do the same for him. He’s desperate to keep you close, arms sliding around your waist and holding you so tightly. 

His lips pull against yours as the waves continue to crash, the illuminated ocean guiding your way back to his lips over and over again, your body finding its new path home. 

Your first kiss with him will always taste like the salt of the sea.

It is said that lovers who bathe in the blue sea sparkle together will have their love story written in the stars, for two lovers who take the plunge together are bound to become soulmates and live out the rest of their days together, in this life and the next.

[darknight3904]

Between the Comfort and the Chaos

𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: ɪɴ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ᴄᴏʀɪᴏʟᴀɴᴜꜱ' ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ᴄᴏᴍᴇꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴀ ᴄʟᴏꜱᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴇ ʀᴇᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱ ᴛʜᴏꜱᴇ ᴄʟᴏꜱᴇꜱᴛ ᴛᴏ ʜɪᴍ

ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴘᴀʀᴛ ꜰᴇᴀᴛᴜʀᴇꜱ ᴋᴀᴛɴɪꜱꜱ (ʏᴀʏ) ᴀɴᴅ ꜱɴᴏᴡ'ꜱ ᴄᴏɴᴠᴇʀꜱᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ɢʀᴇᴇɴʜᴏᴜꜱᴇ. ɪ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇᴅ ɪᴛ ᴛᴏ ꜰɪᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ɴᴀʀʀᴀᴛɪᴠᴇ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜ ꜱᴏ ɴᴏ ᴏɴᴇ ɪꜱ ᴀʟʟᴏᴡᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴀʏ "ᴏʜ ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱɴ'ᴛ ʜᴏᴡ ɪᴛ ᴡᴇɴᴛ!" ɪᴛ ɪꜱ ɴᴏᴡ. ᴛʜᴀᴛꜱ ᴡʜʏ ɪᴛꜱ ᴄᴀʟʟᴇᴅ ꜰᴀɴꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ.

ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜꜱ ᴘᴀʀᴛ / ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ / ᴍᴀɪɴ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴏꜰ ꜱᴜɪᴄɪᴅᴇ

ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴀ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ᴀᴅᴅɪᴛɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ɪᴛ ʙᴜʀɴꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ. ɪᴛ ɪꜱ ɪɴꜱᴘɪʀᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴀɴ ᴀꜱᴋ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀᴍᴀᴢɪɴɢ @squidscottjeans ,ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴏɴɢ ᴄᴇɪʟɪɴɢꜱ ʙʏ ʟɪᴢᴢɪᴇ ᴍᴄᴀʟᴘɪɴᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ᴍɪꜱꜱ ʏᴏᴜ, ɪ'ᴍ ꜱᴏʀʀʏ ʙʏ ɢʀᴀᴄɪᴇ ᴀʙʀᴀᴍꜱ.

Italics designate that it is a dream.

The sun is warm on his skin as his eyes meet yours. Musical laughter fills his ears and soft hair tickles his nose.

"What are you laughing at now?" He asked, his voice deep with sleep.

"Your hair is ridiculous, Coryo." You tease pointing at his head

"And who did that hmm? I seem to remember you pushing your fingers through it a thousand times last night." He replies shifting around in the soft white sheets so he's sitting upright.

"You lie! I'd never." You laugh, sitting up beside him, clothed in a soft-looking nightgown he picked out for you.

"Sure you would, you're a menace." He says, wrapping his arms around you and caging you to his chest

"How rude to say to the only person who puts up with that terrible attitude of yours!" You say trying to free yourself from his iron grip.

His muscles flex slightly and his fingers begin to tickle you.

"Coryo!" You laugh, wiggling around in his lap "Coriolanus Snow! I'm going to pee!"

He relents and lets you go at the threat of urine. Wetting the bed is unattractive.

Coriolanus wakes with his heart feeling full. A smile fights for a spot on his face amongst the wrinkles that have formed over the years.

"Now there's something you don't normally see on a dead man's face, a smile."

His smile falls and his gaze snaps to the voice. He groans and straightens up in the uncomfortable chair he dozed off in

"I'm Commander Paylor. From District 8. I wanted to see you before the Mockingjay executes you tomorrow."

Coriolanus isn't entirely sure what to say to the woman in front of him.

"You wanted to meet the monster up close?" He asks, pulling a pure white rose from its spot next to a fountain.

"Yes." She confirms.

Her voice is unshaken as he steps towards her and holds his hand with the rose out.

"Give the Girl on Fire this for me. As a gift." He requests

The woman, rebel, Paylor, slowly takes it from him, undoubtedly suspicious. He smiles when she does, a sign of good faith, but it must scare her because he can tell she's not charmed.

Unsurprisingly, his good looks had vanished years ago.

"What makes you think she'll want this?" She asks shoving the rose back at him.

"You're right, maybe she she wouldn't want it. Although perhaps she'll find me herself, then I can give it to her directly."

Paylor doesn't say another word to him and instead takes her leave. He watches her mumble something to the guards before walking. Most likely demanding that they watch him closely. Like he had somewhere he could run off to, the moment the Capitol's children were killed by bombs, he had lost any bits of support he had left.

He isn't surprised when she appears in his greenhouse. She looks laughably out of place amongst the dazzling white and green, clad in black as she admires one of his roses.

"That's a nice one."

His voice must frighten her because she spins around quickly. How easy it is to startle a bird outside of its cage. It reminds him that Katniss Everdeen, the Girl on Fire, the Mockingjay, the symbol of the rebellion that will kill him tomorrow is nothing more than a scared little girl.

"Nothing says perfection like white." He says, wiping at his mouth, " I was hoping you'd find your way here. There's so many things we should discuss."

Katniss walks towards him as he sits down on a bench, old knees prevent him from standing the way he wanted to. She's silent but he catches her eyes and how they watch the blood on his handkerchief.

Katniss is quiet, waiting for him to elaborate.

"I was 18 when I killed my first person. It was a boy, in the arena. I was there to rescue my friend who was stupid enough to enter the arena to administer burial rights to a District 2 boy he believed was important."

"I don't care," Katniss says getting ready to walk away, clearly uninterested in his life.

"You don't want to know the thoughts of an old man? After all, I'll be dead this time tomorrow. Then my story won't matter. I'll be nothing but pages on a history book one day. You'll be the only one to know how my mind worked back then."

His words get her to stay. Perhaps she is curious about him. Or maybe she doesn't have anything else to do, now that the Districts have taken the Capitol. How terrible it must be to lose your purpose so early on in life.

"I saved him, Sejanus Plinth, that fool. I saved him only to sign his death warrant later. Plotting to escape Panem and killing the mayor of District 12's daughter. You see, Miss Everdeen, taking life without purpose is wasteful. The mayor's daughter never did anything to Sejanus."

"You say don't take life without waste but what about your Fiancee? The one who killed herself. There have been whispers about it for as long as I can remember. I've never bought that she died on her own accord."

"Patience, Miss Everdeen." He smiles, surprised that the rumor about you still has life, he could have sworn he had covered that up perfectly.

"Have you ever heard the name Lucy Gray Baird?" He asked, genuinely curious if that foolish Covey of hers had passed her name down the way her songs had swirled around the rebellion.

"No," Katniss says

"She was a victor of the Hunger Games, just like you. The first victor of District 12 to be precise." Coriolanus watches Katniss' face as she listens, "There's nothing left of her though. She is but a whisper in the wind, I saw to that myself. I must not have done it thoroughly though, after all, you know her songs. The Hanging Tree, and that sweet song you sang that little girl who died in your arms in your first games."

Coriolanus smiles as Katniss' face knits into a mask of displeasure and anger.

"Stop it." She demands, no begs.

"Calm yourself, Miss Everdeen, I'll be finished shortly."

He watches her fists clench, suffocating the stem of the rose she picked between her fingers.

"You asked about my fiance. You're right about your theory, she didn't kill herself the way the gossips spread their lies across this country say. I rid myself of her one day, it was an accident you see. She attacked me first...I regret it though. I regret it most when I'm alone."

Coriolanus sighs, suddenly overcome with sadness as he thinks of you, Lucy Gray, and even Sejanus.

Katniss is quiet for a moment. Her fingers turn the rose over in her fingers, examining it for nonexistent imperfections.

"You deserve it. You deserve every bit of pain her death causes you. You deserve to know the pain you've caused countless families by sending their children into the games. What you've caused me and my family by killing Prim."

He can hear the emotion dripping in her voice when her sister's name leaves her lips. In a way that sister is responsible for where he is now, a prisoner in his own greenhouse.

"Yes, I wanted to tell you how sorry I am about your sister. I was about to release an official surrender when they released the parachutes." He says, truthfully.

"You released those parachutes," Katniss says, her tone cold.

"You think I gave the order? We both know I'm not above killing children, but I'm not wasteful. I take life for specific reasons. I always have. There was no reason for me to destroy a pen of Capitol children."

He coughs, wiping at his mouth, wishing his sores would stop aching.

"It was a masterful move on Coin's part. It turned the last of my guards against me." He smiles "There was no resistance left in the mansion. Did you know it aired live?"

He watches as Katniss takes in his words, her face remains stoic but he can tell she understands him. Understands that Prim is dead because of the woman who is to take his place as leader of Panem.

"I'm sure she wasn't gunning for your sister...but these things happen in war."

"I don't believe you," Katniss says, determined to convince herself more than him.

"Oh my dear Miss Everdeen, I thought we had agreed never to lie to each other."

Sleep is something that has usually evaded Coriolanus Snow. Whether it be his old bones aching, the sores in his mouth, or just a busy mind, he hasn't had a peaceful night in many years.

Tonight is different though. Perhaps it was his conversation with Katniss, or maybe the fact that he would die tomorrow. Tonight Coriolanus Snow falls into a deep slumber, avoiding what his future holds.

Coriolanus!

Coriolanus!

Coryo!

He can't believe eyes. Here you are, healthy and whole in front of him. Not a winkle or smile line, pollutes your face.

You are as beautiful as the day you left him.

"Y-You're here...with me." He stammers, cursing himself for his blunder.

"Where else would I be, silly?" You smile "This is my room after all."

He glances around and sure enough, you're right. Your sunroom is here, he's in it. Coriolanus sits across from you on the plush baby blue furniture you hand-picked. It's color is as vibrant as ever, not faded like the last time he saw it. Your overflowing desk is to his on his right, burdened with books, drawings, and wildflowers of every color.

"You look lost, Coryo." You observe, taking a sip from the tea cup in front of you.

He takes in your appearance. A pretty sundress sits on your figure. Its yellow flowers make you look as delicate as the teacup in front of him. Your hair is done immaculately and a soft touch of makeup enhances your already stunning features.

"I'm sorry." He suddenly blurts out

"For what?" You ask

" I'm sorry for looking like this." He apologizes, suddenly self-conscious that he's an old man.

"Looking like what?" Your musical voice fills his ears.

Suddenly a mirror is there, in his lap. He looks down and is met with a familiar yet unfamiliar face. Sure, his reflection stares back at him as it always is. But, this time he is met with how he looked the day he killed you. His youth is back, curly hair a mess on his head, out of the confines of the gel he used to slick it back. It is styled just the way you like it.

"Are you sorry for anything else?" You ask sweetly

Coriolanus thinks for a split second that you're testing him. But what reason would you have?

"For everything that happened between us. I regret it all." He admits

Silence feels like a weight on his chest as he waits for you to speak.

"Do you regret what you did to me then? How we ended?" You ask

He can't look at you as he disgests your words.

"Yes." He says, his voice barely a whisper.

"Look at me, Coriolanus."

His gaze remains down, has he always been wearing blue socks?

"Look at me, Coriolanus!"

"Look at me!"

"Look at me!"

"Look at me!"

His eyes open to meet the bright light of a flashlight being shown into his eyes.

"He's still alive." A gruff voice says, switching the light off.

"Unfortunately." Another snickers " Here I thought we might get to tell Coin he died of old age."

"Stay alive, snake. We want a good show tomorrow when Katniss shoots you." The first one says tossing him backward onto the small cot that has been placed in his greenhouse for him.

"You're a monster, Coriolanus."

Your voice. It's you!

He turns around and there you are, a gray scarf has been added to your outfit. It's out of place and clashes with your pretty yellow dress. He wants to tell you to get rid of it.

"I'm not." He denies

"You are. Look what you did to Sejanus, to Lucy Gray, to me, to every child who ever stepped foot in an arena. There were never any victors, not really, only you." You hiss

"It is the order of things." He tries to defend his actions, hearing you spout this incorrect information is angering him. Every life he has ever ended has served a greater purpose.

"Snow lands on top, isn't that how it goes?"

Your words send a shiver down his spine.

"I wish I could have changed what happened to you." He says

"No, you don't. You wanted to do it. You wanted to hurt me." You spit

"No, I didn't you're wrong. I never meant for any of that to happen!" He panics, wishing your harsh tone would stop. He haunches over elbows resting on his knees, hands over his ears like a child.

"Yes, you did." You say

He looks up at you now. The ugly scarf is gone but Coriolanus wishes for its return. Deep purple bruises mar your once-perfect skin. From his position, he can see the chinks of the chain that had pressed into your skin.

"You can't even accept what you did to me. You're disgusting, Coryo."

And just like that you're gone. A figment of his imagination comes to life and vanishes just like that.

His chest heaves as he wipes his bloody lips on his deep red robe. His heart rate slows and he wishes someone would bring him a warm cup of tea to soothe his burning throat. Perhaps those guards might indulge him.

A low whistle reaches his ears as he fiddles with the string that sticks out of his pillowcase.

I've taken some hits, so

No wonder I'm wary.

It's why I

Need you-

You're as pure as the driven snow.

Lucy Gray Baird's sweet voice fills his ears for the first time in decades.

"Hello, Coriolanus." She greets him, stepping out from behind a display of roses.

"What do you want?" He snaps

"Well now, there's no need to be rude." She scolds

"Say your piece I'm tired." He says, uninterested in playing her games

"Ah, did she tire you out? She's feisty. I understand why you went back to the Capitol for her." Lucy Gray says

"No, you don't. You barely even met her." He says

"Now thats where you're wrong. She and I know each other well. After all, we're connected through you." Lucy Gray taunts

"You're not real!" He exclaims. "You're gone! Nothing but a whisper of songbird chatter left behind in the woods of District 12!"

His outburst doesn't faze Lucy Gray Baird who smiles at him.

" I can see you're not interested in talking to me the way you did her."

"You're right, I'm not," Coriolanus confirms, wishing Lucy Gray would disappear again.

"Very well, then. I'll leave you to it, then."

The rest of the night is sleepless for Coriolanus. He lays on his back and tries to shake the whispers that flood his mind. Your voice dances with Lucy Gray's tonight, taunting him, driving him mad. Lucy Gray's singing swirls through him like a thick fog over city lights and clouds his mind. At some point, you join in and Coriolanus can't even fathom how you've learned the words of a ghost's songs.

The sun has arisen by the time your voices finally go quiet. He suspects the guards that stand outside his greenhouse doors will come to lead him to his execution any moment now.

"Did you ever stop and think that what you were doing was wrong?"

Sejanus Plinth. He should have known his mind would save the most annoying for last.

"I've never viewed my actions as wrong. Maybe I didn't mean them all but they all served a purpose." Coriolanus affirms, not bothering to look at Sejanus who is apparently behind him.

Sejanus lets out an amused laugh and Coriolanus feels his blood boil. What does a dead boy have to laugh at? He is the one who got to live a long life, not Sejanus Plinth.

"You meant every wrong you've ever committed, Coryo. You're a monster that's going to burn in the deepest pits of hell."

He finally turns, ready to rip Sejanus apart for his words and the use of his personal nickname, a name reserved for you only. He is ready to send Sejanus back to whatever corner of his mind he resided in but is met with nothing but roses.

He runs a hand over his face. Coriolanus Snow has never felt more weary than he does now. He wishes to bury his head beneath his blankets and let the world melt away.

He never gets a chance though because as he relaxes back into his mattress, the greenhouse doors open, signaling his time here has come to a close.

"Get up." a voice orders "It's time."

Coriolanus can see Katniss Everdeen growing closer with every beat of the drums that play. The bow in her hand is as pitch black as the costume she wears. A soft breeze threads its way through the tense scene as he awaits his doom. He's not so worried about it now, his mind has dragged him through the dirt so much within the past twelve hours that he wants an out. He never wants the ability to listen to Sejanus' garbage or Lucy Gray's sweet voice, Coriolanus doesn't even want to have another conversation with you in your sunroom.

No that's not it. Perhaps he was wrong. Maybe he does want some of those things back. Maybe not Sejanus or Lucy Gray but he does yearn for you. He wants you to wrap your arms around him and tell him it's alright. He wants to sit down with you and exist with you in between the comfort and the chaos of this world. He wants you to stay by his side and say that you didn't mean to say that you disgust him.

Maybe none of it was real. No none of it was. You had left him that night in the basement. Your eyes had glazed over and you had stopped fighting him and the chain that brought about your doom.

He can feel hysteria creeping into his mind as Katniss Everdeen stops walking. Behind her, the victors that escaped him stand tall. He catches the gaze of Peeta Mellark, the boy he had kept in your room after he used tracker jacker venom on him.

Three birds fly over him, they flap their wings in perfect harmony. Their black feathers are a stark contrast to the light blue sky that he stares up at now. Coin's words fall on deaf ears as he ignores her whole speech.

"Mockingjay...may your aim be as true as your heart is pure."

Coriolanus watches Katniss Everdeen release her arrow. He expects something, perhaps a dazzling white light or maybe even pitch darkness but it never comes. Instead horrified gasps fill his ears and the thud of a body.

Coriolanus doesn't have to even try to turn around to see what has happened. He knows what the Mockingjay has done to what was Panem's future.

Time slows down as the mob behind her rushes forward. The birds have flown away, off to start a different life, away from darkness and all things bad.

His laughter rings in his ears as his eyes comb the crowd. He can't see much but the red rouge of an academy uniform catches his eyes, accompanied by a flash of rainbow. Sejanus, Lucy Gray. What were they doing here? They couldn't possibly be in the crowd that was running towards him.

They're growing closer, the mob that will end his life. He looks at them, ready to let go. They collide with him, their fists are brutal but justified and he can feel his end rapidly approaching.

"Coryo."

And there it is, at last. Your sweet voice is calling him home.

Thank you for reading this little bonus story. If you enjoyed it please comment, like, or reblog! I love getting feedback. Follow me for more content or check out my master list.

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[morning-star-joy]

KISSES TO GET THEIR ATTENTION!!!!! For ASHWAH please I beg

AHHHH I love this one so much!! Thank you for sending it in, I hope you enjoy another little snapshot of their lives together!

Pairing: Joel x F!Reader, established relationship, set in the ASHWAH universe

Warnings: Pure fluff

Wordcount: 987

She had moved into Joel’s house the same way she moved into his heart; slowly, in such a way that neither of them even really noticed it until she went back to her house for the first time in three weeks.

“Where are you going?” Joel had asked her as she rose from her spot leaning into his side on the couch, his arm falling through empty air from where it had been resting around her shoulders while he was watching a dumb old action movie that she poked plot holes into every other scene.

“I have a few movies that are far better than yours,” she teased with a smirk, and Joel’s brow furrowed, her own doing the same to mirror his confusion before she clarified, “At my house.”

Joel’s confusion stayed for a moment before he slowly realized that she did have her own house, even if she hadn’t been living in it for weeks. He nodded then, not sure why it made his stomach twist that she hadn’t called his house her house, because suddenly, he realized that’s what it was to him.

Their house.

He realized again how intertwined their lives had become when he passed the living room where she had curled up under a blanket with one of his books in her lap, continuing a habit of making her way through the stories he had collected on his bookshelves.

“I didn’t think you were a big reader,” he had said the first time he caught her reading one, smiling to himself as she nearly blushed at his observation.

“I’m not,” she mumbled, yet she turned the page anyway, lifting the book to bury her nose in it and hiding the flush on her cheeks as his smile grew at how endearing it was that she was settling herself amongst his daily life at home.

She looked up now as Joel walked into the room, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of her head and mumble, “I’m heading to the market to pick up some fruit.”

A hum of acknowledgment left her as she turned the page, and he gazed down at her for a moment, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, pulling her attention up to him with a softened gaze that made it hard not to stay right where he was and cover her face in kisses that he still couldn’t believe he could give her sometimes.

“Wanna come with?” Joel asked, arching an eyebrow in question as she blinked in surprise at the offer. “What?”

“That is painfully domestic,” she said slowly with a growing smirk, and he sighed, rolling his eyes as he moved away from her, but not before brushing the back of his thumb against her cheek in a small show of affection.

“You’re one to talk,” he replied, shooting a pointed look towards the book in her hands, chuckling under his breath as she tossed it away from herself with an endearing blush he so loved to see on her face because of him.

Joel grunted quietly as he leaned down to put his boots on, lacing them up when she appeared next to him to do the same.

“What?” She repeated his own short question from earlier as she laced up her own boots, straightening up and offering a hand to help him stand. “Who said I wasn’t going?”

That was the first time they embarked on the painfully domestic task of picking out fruit, a task Joel quickly realized she had no idea how to do. He explained the mundane intricacies of picking out a good batch of lemons or nectarines, enjoying the annoyed look on her face as she tried to take in the new information, an annoyance that would fade when she would glance up and see his soft smile that was reserved for her.

One day on a run to the small market in Jackson, she was distracted, brow furrowed as she tried to find the best apple in the bunch. So focused on her task, she didn’t notice Joel trying to show her one he had found from another small crate, and he soon found himself distracted from all the bustling bodies and conversation on Jackson’s streets by how fucking cute she looked so focused.

Suddenly, Joel remembered that he could do something about that now. He could kiss her. He could kiss her in front of everybody in Jackson and let them know that she’s his, that he’s hers.

And so he did.

Joel leaned down, kissing her on the cheek to get her attention, and she looked up in surprise, immediately focusing on him at the affectionate action that they hadn’t dared to do in a place this public, even as she had settled completely into his life.

“Joel—”

Then his lips were on hers as his name left that pretty mouth, kissing her fully as he leaned up and over her, his hand not holding the apple cupping her cheek to tilt her face up. It took no time for her to melt into it, and he smiled against her lips before pulling back to smirk down at her.

“Here,” Joel said, placing the perfectly shiny apple in her hand. “Just getting your attention, sweetheart.”

She snorted a laugh, but he could see her blushing again, as endearing as her little smile as they turned away from the stall. For a moment, he saw her stiffen, surely noticing the other attention Joel had gathered from being so publicly affectionate, but he found his chest filling with warmth as her free hand found his, their fingers intertwining as they walked to the next stand.

“Painfully domestic,” she murmured again, sinking into his side when he removed his hand from hers to wrap around her shoulder, pulling her closer as he leaned down to kiss her cheek again with a wider smile.

taglist: @darkroastjoel @thetriumphantpanda @sinsofsummers @dinsdjrn @cupofjoel @cavillscurls @tightjeansjavi @sumamitt

[nelissecrectplace]

𝕊𝕖𝕒𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕝𝕤 & 𝕐𝕠𝕦

tsireya x reader

word count: 2.7k

language: Syulang- flower, Kalweyaveng- son of a bitch, Oel ngati kameie- i see you

description: Tsireya, a girl you have loved before you even knew what the word meant. A girl that made you feel ugly emotions you did not know were possible. The girl you would connect to by a small little seashells.

The first time you saw Tsireya you did not know why you were so drawn to her. A little voice screaming in your head to be her friend. She seemed like an angel in your small eyes, the most beautiful girl you had ever seen, and you just couldn’t tear your gaze away. Completely tuning out your breathing instructor it was as if she had put you in a magical trance. “Y/n stop gawking at Tsireya and please pay attention. This lesson is very important!” Snapping her finger in front of your dazed face your teacher wore a stern expression. Obviously unamused with your new found interest in the small girl. A series of giggles echoed through the small group of children at her public scolding. Embarrassed, you casted your eyes to the floor a dark purple hue rising to your face. You did not miss the way Tsireya giggled with the rest, her voice seeming to stand out to your ears, only deepening your flustered state. It was the first time in your whole 5 years of life you felt truly flustered, a feeling you would get use to as you spent more time around Tsireya.

Thankfully, your teacher was quick to shush the children’s giggles saving you from farther humiliation. “There is no reason to laugh, now let’s wrap up this lesson.” Voice soft yet commanding all the children listened to the older na’vi. Big eyes all zoned in on her as she pressed her hands to her stomach explaining how to breathe from your belly. While you could not help but steal a few glances at the girl across the circle from you. Her big blue eyes seeming to hold the stars as she payed all her attention to her instructor. The class seemed to end too soon as your teacher dismissed you all. The girl you now knew as Tsireya rising to her feet. You did not expect her small body to walk over to you, eyes widening in shock. “Im Tsireya. You kept looking at me does that mean you wanna be my friend?”

“O-of course!” Tone radiating happiness you quickly rose to your feet. The girl was obviously a bit younger than you as you straightened yourself out standing a few inches over her. “I’m y/n” Smiling Tsireya giggled at your excitement seeing your emotions so obviously on display. “Wanna collect seashells with me?” Small hand outstretched you invited her to take yours. Excitedly nodding her head Tsireya placed her hands in yours. A joy like no other filling your body as you guided her to your favorite spot. Allowing the waves to lap over you feet as the two of you search the sand for a hidden gem. Creating a memory you would never forget. The moment that bonded you and Tsireya together.

Now in your late teenage years the two of you still shared the same habit. Tsireya had just finished her training of the day running to your form as you waited for her on the beach. “Y/n!” Ears perking up at the familiar voice you turned your head. As expected Tsireya wore a bright smile as she prance towards you . “I finished this last night wanted you to have it.” Voice soft the girl attempted to catch her breath, words coming out in a jumble. “You have always been a master weaver.” Accepting her gift you slid on her small bracelet. Seashells the two of you had found carefully placed in between the strands of fabric. Tsireyas big eyes watching your every move waiting for your reaction, comfortable placing herself next to you. Holding her gift up to the sun the seashells seemed to sparkle, a soft smile gracing your lips. Butterflies invading your stomach as you brain could not help but imagine this as a courting gift. “Is it to your liking?” Gaze shifting to the girl who still rested a few inches below you a warm feeling filled your stomach as you met her glimmering eyes.

“Of course syulang, I love it.” Shying away from your gaze her small hand came to her lips. A futile attempt to cover her smile. “Now come we must add to your collection.” Boldly taking her hands in your you guided her to the shore of the ocean just as you did many times. Tsireya, allowing you to drag her along as butterflies erupted in her stomach. Eventually Tsireya ventured on her own picking up the seashell she deemed the prettiest. A soft smile covering your face as you ‘looked’ with her, while in reality you spent most of the your time looking at her. “Ah! Look at this one!” Voice shrill Tsireyas voice seemed to raise a couple octaves as she rushed towards you. Smiling from ear to ear she presented a seashell morphed and smoothed into a heart shape by the ocean waves. “Look how it shines!” Giggling she help it up to the sun and it did in fact shine with the sun rays. A beautiful color that almost mirrored the shade of her baby blue eyes. “It’s a wonderful color, might just be my favorite shade of blue.”

“Really?” Cocking her head to the side Tsireys seemed to examine the seashell more. “I will make you more jewelry in this shade!” Proudly announcing her will it was as if a tiny light bulb had gone off in her head. “When I think about it I have not known your updated favorite color for a while now. What shade do you like syulang?” Turning to face you Tsireya lifted her head slightly. Her brows scrunched together as she thought, a habit she had kept ever since her toddler days. Suddenly bringing her hand to your face her thumb traced just below your eyes. Shocked, your pupils dilated slightly as the place she touched began to burn. Although, she had touched you thousands of times before it still sent fire racing through your skin. A fear rising in you that she would hear your heart thumping against your chest as you met her puppy dog eyes. “I think it might be your eyes, Eywa blessed you with a beautiful color.” Parting your lips you attempted to say something but to no avail. It was as if she had knocked the words out of you as you felt the temperature in your face begin to rise.

Seeming to notice this a smile made its way onto Tsireyas lips. Her touched slowly sliding down your face to your neck as she admired the markings adoring your body. “I will see you tomorrow? I must be getting back now. I have an important dinner to attend.” You did not miss the way her face slightly dropped at the mention of the dinner. You felt a pity for her knowing the stories of how incredible boring they were. “Of course, same spot as always.” Patting her head you ushered her off, not wanting the young girl to get in trouble because of you. Watching her form prance away you could not help but relish the heat of her lingering touch. Smacking your cheek you attempted to rid yourself of your emotions. “She is the cheifs daughter it will never work.” Muttering words you had said a million times. Words that had suppressed your growing emotions for years.

Sitting on the beach you gazed at the ocean. Finding peace in how the sand welcomed your form and the waves lapped against the shore. It was a beautiful day for taking a simple stroll on the beach. The sun was radiant yet not too hot resting calmly against your turquoise skin. A sigh breached your lips as you doodled in the sand an impatience growing within you every passing secant. You had secured a stone you deemed close enough to your eye color hoping to gift it to Tsireya. You had spent most of your morning crafting it into a similar heat shape as the one she found the other day. Using your weaving skills make it the center of a new top you had been crafting for the girl. Position the stone just right so it would rest upon her heart, a place you yearned to be.

Hours seemed to pass as you began to doze off head dipping from exhaustion. Your body seeming to flinch back awake every other minute. Finally having enough of waiting you rose to your feet a slight fear entering you. Tsireya had never stood you up. The girl Always telling you if she could not make it or at least stopping by for a few minutes before reporting back to her duties. Hopping to your feet your legs carried you in a hurry back to the village. Eyes scanning every na’vi passing you in hope one would be her. Almost near the end of your search a familiar giggle filled your ears. Body whipping around you felt you muscles visibly relax when you eyes set on her. Tsireya’s usual smile decoration her face.

“Reya-“ Cutting yourself off mid sentence you bit your tongue as another na’vi entered your view. You felt your stomach twist with a disgusting jealousy as you watched her interact with the male you knew as Ateo. Knowing by the look of desire swirling in his eyes that this was no platonic interaction. Eyes shifting back to the smaller female an anger seemed to mix in with your ugly emotions. Body moving as if you were possessed. “Oh! Y/n!” Noticing your presence Tsireya turned herself towards you. Noticing your mood a confused expression covered her face not sure why you seemed so upset. “Is there something wro-“

“You ditched me for this Kalweyaveng!” Voice dipping with venom you glared at the na’vi to her left. Fury dancing in your eyes. “Who do you think you’re talking too?” Eyes narrowing Ateos glare rested apon you. His tail whipping in aggression. “Wait, wait let’s all calm down.” Attempting to mediate the situation Tsireyas voice fell to death ears as Ateo took aggressive steps towards you. The male had always been arrogant and short tempered. Ateo stood slightly taller than you and seemed to be trying to use that as intimidation. You wanted to scoff at his pathetic attempt to make you cower. Bearing your teeth to Ateo you proved he did nothing to you. “You mad I stole your bitch?” Taunting words left the males lips and it made you want to rip his juggler out then and there. “Have some respect before I make you.” Hands shoving his chest you pushed the na’vi back slightly. Waiting for his short fuse to break.

“I said calm down!” Tone sharp and loud Tsireays voice drew the both of your eyes away from the other. An instant regret crashing over you as you saw her glossy eyes glaring at you both. “You are acting like children get a grip! And to call me by such a name Ateo?” Body shaking in anger the offense was evident in her voice. Body frozen you waited for the next words to leave her mouth but they never did. Seeming to stop herself from speaking Tsireya turned the other way her overwhelming emotions evident in her body language. “Dickhead.” Muttering the insult you quickly followed after Tsireya unraveling her top from your small bag. You did not worry about knowing the destination. Already knowing where Tsireya was headed. Knowing the female since childhood came with its perks.

Dragging your feet in the sand you purposely took a little longer to get to the spot on the beach. Wanting to leave time for Tsireya to calm down. Eventually, her form came into view as you quietly approached her, placing your body in the sand. Although she did not meet your gaze you knew she was aware of your presence as her ears twitching with each movement you made. “Hey syulang” Voice soft you allowed your hand to rest on her back, your finger trailing small circles on her skin. You felt her inhale deeply before meeting your gaze. “I am sorry.” Voice soft a pout rested upon Tsireyas face. “I did not mean to stand you up. It’s just my parents announced him as a potential mate and insisted I spent some time with him. I could not find the time to tell you.” Hearing her explanation it was like a knife to the heart. Shame washing over you in waves as you cursed your jealously fueled actions. Heart banging with regret and sadness at the mention of her mating.

“I am not mad. My reaction was very….. over the top. I am sorry.” Giggling slightly Tsireya seemed to recall the recent memory. “You looked like you were about to rip his head off! But, you did save me from having a horribly disrespectful and hot headed mate so I can not be mad.” Smiling slightly you felt relief wash over you as Tsireya seemed to accept your apology. Her normal cheerful mood returning. “I could never stay mad at you y/n. But why did you get so angry? Were you jealous?” Voice having a teasing tone to his Tsireya skillfully pried. Not wanting to let her true emotions out before she knew yours. Cheeks tenting at her suggestion you could not hold her gaze. Eyes casted out at the ocean. “I need to practice keeping my emotions in check.” Sighing at your answer a frown crossed Tsireyas face. She was tired of your indirect answers, she simply wanted to know what was going on in your head. “What is wrong syulang?”

“Nothing, I just need to find more suitors. I am of mating age after all.” Covering up her feelings she lied. Watching closely as you seemed to cringe at her words ears downturned. “I can make better things than any other suitor could.” Handing her the top you made Tsireyas eyes seems to sparkle. A shy smile making its way onto her face as her hands ran over the fabric. Tuning to dig into her pouch a confused look covered your face as you watched her rummage. Taking out a necklace with the seashell that matched hers but sewn into a dangly piece of jewelry. “We can match now!” Handing you the necklace with the seashell resembling her eyes you could not help the hue casting over your cheeks. “Tsireya we can not, only mates or family match.” Attempting to move the necklace back into their hands she resisted a stubbornly.

“Do you not wish to?” Eyes hurt she flashed her puppy dog look. The frown she wore minutes ago now placed upon her face again. Not being able to resist her beautiful eyes you placed the necklace on with a sigh. Thoughts spiraling in your head as Tsireya eyes lit up at the action. Turning her body around she began to undo her top. Air catching in your throat your eyes watched the fabric fall. Her slim back on full display. Her bare skin soon covered by the top you crafted, as she skillfully tied it around her neck. “Now we are matching!” Voice cheerful Tsireya launched herself onto you. Her body resting comfortable on your legs as she hugged you close. Heart beating rapidly against your chest you placed your arms around her. The warmth of her body seeming to burn as you temperature rose. “Tsireya-“

“I am not 5 y/n I know what the clan will think if they see us.” Leaning back Tsireya met your gaze. Her arms still around your neck and body comfortable seated on yours. There was no doubt your cheeks were every shade of purple as your eyes widened. Trying to wrap the meaning of her words around you brain. “Then I will court you.” Statement clear you looked into her ocean eyes. Searching for a reaction that was soon to come. A joyful screech left Tsireyas lips as she brung her body back to yours. Pressing herself impossibility close as your heart leaped in joy.

“Oel ngati kameie y/n”

“Oel ngati kameie, tsireya.”

Words of affection whispered you did not let Tsireya leave your hold. Eclipse settling in as the two of you cuddled in the sand. Your head on Tsireyas chest as the two of you looked up into the sky. Your matching seashell glowing with your bioluminescence freckles as they connected. The two hearts seeming to have once been one of the same shell. Reunited by two painfully oblivious na’vi finally making a move.

a/n: I hope you like my first Tsireya fic! I can not get enough of the Metkayina siblings. 🤭

tag: @yeosxxx

[lilbittymonster]

Day 9: Lend An Ear

Read on AO3

The light was always worse when it reflected on water. Worse still when said water was as still as a puddle. The natural waves and tides that should be present in an ocean were absent from the expanse that stretched out to their left as the pair walked. The thin cloaks lessened some of the sickly yellow light through the hoods pulled low over their faces, but only a bit.

Thancred kept a weather eye on every rise in the shoreline, watching every pile of rock and rubble for potential spies. The looming silhouette of Eulmore off in the distance was still distant enough for their purposes, and he was happy to keep it that way. Quickly, he motioned for Minfillia to follow him up the slope to avoid the main road into Stilltide, slipping between the remaining wooden shacks of the tiny village.

“Wait here,” he instructed in a whisper. “Stay out of sight. I shall be but a moment.”

Minfillia nodded, and shrank in on herself even further beneath the cloak as she cowered against the outer wall. Thancred straightened and scanned the open quad for his target. Not seeing the familiar head of snow white hair, he ducked into the tavern with the hopes of at least refilling their supplies, if nothing else. And as luck would have it, the elezen boy was already inside.

The scant handful of patrons all turned to look at the sound of the opening door, and all but Alphinaud turned quickly back to their own drink without a fuss. Thancred politely asked the barmaid for a refill of his waterskin, and while she was occupied he leaned over to Alphinaud.

“She’s outside,” he said quietly.

“I’m not far from here,” Alphinaud replied in kind, taking a bite of whatever was on the plate in front of him. “Meet me at the western gate shortly.”

Thancred’s waterskin was returned to him, reassuringly full, and he departed without another word. Minfillia was where he left her and with a jerk of his head he directed them to lie in wait where they could see both the bridge and the town. Soon, Alphinaud could be seen walking unhurried along the worn path, carbuncle at his side. Minfillia noticeably perked up at the sight of him.

Alphinaud veered sharply north and cut through the underbrush. With another look around to check for any tails, Thancred led them behind at a distance until they reached a worn out shack nearly on top of the water’s edge. The waterfall thundering down from above could be heard in the distance, enough to muffle the sound of their voices as they talked. Or the sound of footsteps as they approached.

Once at the doorway, Alphinaud finally turned to acknowledge them with a smile as he held the door open for them. Only once they stepped through the threshold did Thancred and Minfillia remove their hoods.

“It’s been some time, Thancred, Minfillia,” he greeted them. “We should be safe here.”

“I thank you for the hospitality on such short notice,” Thancred said.

Minfillia sat wearily down on one of the two rickety chairs at the single round table, rubbing at an ankle. The little carbuncle bounded over to her, stretching up to paw at her knee.

“Hi Jasmine,” she said, scooping up the creature and depositing her in her lap.

Alphinaud watched on with a soft smile.

“I hope you are both in good health, all things considered.”

“As well as we can be, all things considered,” Thancred said.

“Well, I haven’t much, but you’re welcome to whatever you need,” he said gently to Minfillia. “Thancred, might I have a word outside?”

Minfillia looked up from petting Jasmine to shoot him a worried look, and Thancred gave her a reassuring nod before following Alphinaud out the door. The boy marched towards the water without turning behind to see if Thancred had followed. At about 30 or so paces from the house, he rounded on Thancred.

“I hope you have a very good reason for bringing her this close to the city,” Alphinaud all but hissed. A steel was in his eyes that had not been there last Thancred looked. “Are you trying to hand her back over to Vauthry?”

“Not on my life,” Thancred said solemnly. “But since this is where you have decided to make your stand, we must come to you, not the other way ‘round.”

Alphinaud folded his arms, and Thancred was struck at how much he looked like Kitali in that moment. “Well? Let’s hear this reason, then.”

“The Exarch bade me to check in on you,” Thancred said evenly. “I like to think he would not do so without good reason.” He paused. “And I’m….worried for Minfillia.”

Alphinaud’s brow pinched immediately with concern. “Worried in what way?”

“She’s always been the timid sort, but even within the walls of the Crystarium I don’t ever see her interacting with more than a book. Urianger is the only other person she holds a conversation with. I was…” He trailed off, looking out over the river. “I was hoping that being around someone nearer her own age would do her some good. Someone willing to lend her an ear, should she need or want it. That person certainly doesn’t seem to be me.”

“Have you spoken with Alisaie at all?”

“As dear as your sister is, she can be, ah. How do I say this…”

“A bit much,” Alphinaud finished for him.

“Quite.”

Alphinaud looked back pensively towards the shack.

“You should not remain here long,” he said after a pause. “It’s not safe for her to remain so close. But I shall do what I can to be a friend to Minfillia. I know Jasmine certainly will be.”

Thancred’s shoulders relaxed at his words.

“That is all I ask. Thank you.”

Alphinaud nodded and began walking back towards the shack.

[actual-changeling]

silly little fluff post before i pop off to bed <3 nothing but joy and happiness and Joel and Ellie being soft with each other, i hope you enjoy it!!!

-

It's not like anyone ever directly asks her about it, but it is an unspoken question that follows them around, follows her around.

Family relations in the apocalypse are a lot looser and offer a lot more choices to everyone involved, but people like tradition, and so most family dynamics are pretty much exactly the way they were before, with some more (technically) adopted family members.

It also means that once Joel and Ellie start trying to properly integrate themselves into the community, but only because Maria hasn't stopped insisting for weeks now, they will be surrounded by a choir of mom and dad and a variety of pet names wherever they go.

At first, it doesn't bother them at all, why would it? People are naturally curious, though, and when they sit down for lunch on their second day of actually eating at the dining hall, a small group (family?) of five joins them, eager to start a conversation. Unfortunately for them, Joel and Ellie are the least conversational people they could have chosen, and lunch goes accordingly.

Ellie stays pressed against his side the entire time, giving monosyllabic answers to any questions directed at her that Joel doesn't catch, while he takes the brunt of it, one hand soothingly rubbing her lower back. Most of them ask about their time outside, how they got here, and what they saw, and she zones out rather quickly, letting the unfamiliar voices turn into white noise, until a specific question makes her snap back.

"So, how old is your daughter?"

Her gaze is locked on Joel's face, expecting him to turn toward her, but he doesn't. He simply keeps tracing circles along her spine and responds to the woman's question.

"Ellie is fifteen now, and-"

"Oh, they grow up so quick, don't they?" She interrupts, the smile genuine but way too sweet for Ellie to be comfortable with it.

"They sure do," and he does look at her now, eyes softened by the crinkling smile spreading across his face, and all Ellie can do in her stupor is smile back, caught in the tumbling rotation of daughter and father, cargo, not your dad, family, home. It wasn't time that did it.

Maybe, she decides, on their way back from lunch so they can stretch out across their living room couch, that was his way of saying it. Of apologizing and explaining. But maybe isn't enough, not for her, and the next time she gets asked, she wants to be sure of whatever she says.

"Sooo," she drawls, plopping her head into his lap and straightening her legs, "you gonna say anything?"

Joel threads his fingers through her hair, softly massaging her scalp and brushing out the strands until they're a silky curtain hanging down his thigh. Her eyes flutter close on their own accord, and she adjusts herself to be more comfortable.

"Gonna say anything about what?"

"You know what I mean."

With his palm cupping her cheek, it is incredibly hard to stay focused, the urge to nap is still strong after weeks of doing nothing but, and the heat seeping into her skin relaxes her enough to free all the tension she usually holds in a deep sigh.

"I do. You're wondering why I didn't correct her."

"Something like that. I just- I don't know. What to say."

His movements are slow and gentle, his thumb brushing across her cheekbone, his pinky tracing the line of her jaw, and Ellie could live in the safety of his cupped hands forever, crawl inside of his chest, and never come out again.

"There is nothing you need to say, you can call- us whatever you want."

While Joel tries to keep his voice light, she can taste the anxiety hidden within, and it isn't hard to tell that while he didn't falter earlier, it's still an important topic for him. They had a conversation about it that did not end well months ago, the first time she claimed her room as her own, and his words have grown roots in the back of her mind.

Not your daughter, not your dad, but those happened in the Before, and they were both in the After now, not ground zero but several memories and connections heavier.

"I don't- I don't mind. People thinking that I'm your- calling me your daughter. Unless you mind. because-"

"I don't mind," Joel interrupts, and the insistence his words carry makes her look up at him, meeting a brown that she knows isn't hers but might as well be.

"I don't mind, and I- it's still early, and I don't know what you are comfortable with, but I care about you, Ellie."

The pressure of his palm against her face wanders down, tucking back a few strands of hair, and she gently curls her fingers around his wrist to keep his hand where it is.

"I care about you, too. And I know I'm not her, and I never could be, but I thought maybe we could just be Ellie and Joel, whatever that ends up meaning."

Joel carefully pulls her upright, and she can't help but giggle when he pokes her sides, and she scrambles to turn around so she can tuck herself away against his chest. With his cheek resting on top of her head and his arms tightly around her, it seems almost silly to think that Joel wouldn't want her like this, that he would ever make her leave because she isn't what he needs.

"Whatever it ends up meaning," Joel agrees, and the kiss he presses to her temple is not only a promise, it's also an anchor to hold onto, to keep her steady when doubt tries to wash her away.

The next time someone asks Ellie about him, the answer she gives is the one she will always give.

My Joel.

Labels, she realizes, aren't as important as people make them seem. In the end, it is always better to just be, to belong with someone, to have someone to call yours.

"My world," Joel whispers one night, curled around her, "my blessing."

And being his, Ellie realizes, is the best of all.

[doctorgirlsblog]

Hello!! I was wondering if you might do a doctor reader x max where she is a junior doctor working long shifts and feeling very tired but doesn’t tell max because she knows he also has a very tiring schedule? But he takes care of her and makes sure she is well looked after? Maybe a bit spicy in the end if you are ok with that!!

Hello! Was written in the pause actually, as you got my situation explained there too 🤣🫡🩺 only thing missing is Max coming to take care of me 😴😂

Hope you like it! 💙

________________________________________

Taking care

(Those who always care about others, sometimes need some care too.)

Another night, another double shift. The only regular meal she'd had in the past couple of days was black coffee, and the Red Bull cans were strewn all around her office. Even exhausted, she smiled to herself, thinking about how she was promoting her boyfriend's team and consuming probably more Red Bulls than he was.

She was getting ready for her last round of checking up on patients at the crack of dawn when her phone pinged.

[One new message]

Love: "When should I pick you up from work, babe?"

She was surprised that he was awake so early, but she figured that he wants to go on a jog.

She didn't want to be a burden to him at the moment. She knew how much stress he alone was under, with all the training, debriefs and she wasn't doing her best lately in supporting him, with her shifts getting in the way. She knew the pressure that he was under. He didn't need to worry about her too.

So, she tried to spare him.

She texted back quickly:

"All good, love. I'll probably stay a little longer; I got lost in the paperwork. You go home and get some rest. I love you."

She was quite disappointed when he left her message on "read," but she was already on the verge of sleep. Deciding to go back to work and let it go, she knew that he was likely already out jogging.

A couple of cans of Red Bull and two cups of coffee later, in the deathly silence of the office, she nearly jolted from the table when she heard a loud, hard knock at the door.

She quickly ran her fingers through her now-messy hair in an attempt to tame it and straightened out her coat.

"Come in."

What she hadn’t expected was to see Max standing at the door, his cheeks slightly flushed and his hair disheveled. He held two takeout bags and a Starbucks coffee in his hands.

“Got some time for one more patient, Liefje?” -he asked, smiling at her as he put the things on the nearest cupboard before she ran into his arms.

"Max? Baby what are you doing here? I thought you'd gone out for a jog." She pouted at him, but he pulled her away from him and toward one of the two comfortable armchairs.

"You were never a good liar, especially when you're sleepy. You texted me half the letters wrong (which she didn't notice in her moment of sleepiness), and I had a good feeling that these all-nighters would mean coffee for every meal without the actual meal. So you're not moving from that spot until you eat this." He opened the box with two sandwiches and the other one with croissants. Starbucks lay on the table beside her.

"I'm sorry, Max. I never meant to worry you. I just..."—she huffs—"...it got really tough the last couple of days, and I couldn't even find time to watch your race and support you, and..."

She doesn't get to finish her sentence because he's already towering over her, his large hand on her chin and the other gripping her thigh.

She lets out a gasp at the contact, craving it nonetheless, but unable to move.

"You always take care of everyone, especially me. Now, it's my turn," he said, leaning down further and cupping her face in his hands. He kissed her so gently, but passionately that she couldn't help but let out a whimper.

He quickly pulled her up from the chair and changed their positions, pulling her on his lap, tracing his fingers up her thighs, all the way under her coat..

____________________

It is safe to say that the sandwiches lay long-forgotten on the table, and the proper meal had to wait a bit longer while Max had his own dessert.

|P.S. Sorry for any grammar mistakes; the next one will be longer i promise 💯 |

[iwasthewind]

He was a prince, after all.

Oneshot inspired by this post made by @probablybadmonomaficideas <33

Aizawa exhaled softly as he glanced outside the window of the common room. The teachers' living quarters were especially tidy today. The dog was in its dad's room. The weather was fine. Mirio and Izuku were (unfortunately) on the premises. Eri was happy as well. The grass looked okay.

Perhaps he should touch it to make sure…

He glanced unhappily at his cup, wishing he'd made more coffee. It was a bit too cold outside, perhaps- no. He couldn't- 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯'𝘵 keep making excuses.

The prospect of Eri meeting the boy made him a little nervous. Distressing her wouldn't do. Vlad had assured him-rather aggressively-that he was gentle and kind, but Aizawa would believe it when he saw it.

Monoma Neito wasn't 𝘩𝘪𝘴 student, after all. He didn't know much about him (he'd only witnessed Neito's personality properly during the Sports Festival) and besides, Vlad was prone to favouritism.

Was the grass really okay? Sh!t, he was running out of excuses. Eri glanced up at him uncertainly, then turned her attention to her drawing once more. She was a nervous child and unfortunately often saw herself as a bother, consequently refusing to ask questions.

"Yes?" he enquired, in the gentlest voice he could muster. "Is there something you needed, Eri?"

She looked up again, pursing her lips a little. He tried to look gentle. It was a little difficult- years of maintaining a poker face (it was just a perpetually exhausted face, really) were a little difficult to undo, but he knew he had to try for the child.

"...You said we would be meeting someone?"

Aizawa valiantly held back a sigh. "Yes, we are."

***

"Don't forget to behave~" Setsuna playfully taunted as Neito adjusted his jacket. "You're so 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯, after all, such a 𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘺-"

"Shut up," he huffed and she cackled. "That's enough out of you-"

"The dark side of Yuuei?" She interrupted. "He really said that?" Her head bobbed earnestly up and down with the question.

"Yes," he grumbled. "And the kid was in... an... she wasn't in the best situation before, so I'm a little uncertain." Licking his lips nervously, he glanced down at his shoes, but quickly straightened up again. "I wonder if she'll be comfortable enough in my presence."

"Dude, it's okay," she chuckled. "I'm just messing with you. You'll be fine, and those two will be there too."

Neito wrinkled his nose, but couldn't hold back a smile. "Ah, yes. Class 1-A's destructive little demon. Honestly, you know what I think? I think he's too nice. He's obviously a serial killer."

"Go forth then, slayer of evil!" Setsuna's head somersaulted through the air towards the door. She pressed down on the handle and it swung open, letting in a cold gust. Kamakiri screeched and tripped over Setsuna's detached legs, landing in Tsuburaba's lap.

Setsuna snorted at them (as though she weren't the cause of the mess), then turned to Neito once more. "I wish you luck, warrior!" she teased.

He laughed and answered in an equally mocking tone. "You have my thanks."

***

"I know what you are!"

Neito blinked rapidly at the child. Eri had shrunk behind Mirio as soon as she'd seen him (Neito's heart had shrunk with her) before gasping and running at him suddenly. Now she stood before him, shyness and anxiety painfully visible on her face, along with... excitement?

"Oh ho ho?" Neito knelt before her slowly, seemingly amused. "What am I?"

In truth, he was a little afraid of the answer. If it was something bad…

She leaned forward, her arms lifted slightly like a bird about to take flight. Now she looked excited-𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘺, even.

"A prince!"

He choked on air, losing his composure for a moment before quickly steadying himself. A 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦? He hadn't seen 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 coming.

"I- pardon? You think I'm a prince?"

"Yeah!"

Neito felt something warm seep out of his chest into the rest of him. He wrestled back a smile. A prince? Really? He knew he was well groomed, but what else could have caused her to perceive him as such? Him, a prince? Shouldn't it be that Midoriya, since he rescued her?

A mote of a smile escaped him and shone on his lips. Whatever, who was he to argue? This just made his job easier.

He smiled.

"That's quite a guess," he said lightly, trying not to let the sudden affection he felt escape through his voice. "Let us go inside, however. Such matters should be discussed indoors, where you can stay warm."

Nodding, she ran back to Mirio, who hefted her up and opened the door to carry her in.

Her quirk turning out to be a blank was a little disappointing. He was helpless- he couldn't be of use to Aizawa. He tried to not sound too apologetic-it wasn't his fault, after all- but he struggled with his thoughts all the same. Once they entered his mind, they lingered like a miasma. They were a little difficult to get rid of.

Not today, though. The memory of Eri adorably waving her hand and diffidently yet enthusiastically, telling him to take her on an adventure next time fought those thoughts away easily enough. He was a prince, after all, and princes were strong.

***

Aizawa's shoulders relaxed as he watched Monoma click his tongue gently and wrap Eri's scarf around her neck securely. As much as he hated to do so, he confessed (only to himself) that Vlad (for once) had been right.

It had only been a few weeks since Neito and Eri had met, but she seemed to trust him a great deal. Neito was cautious, respectful of her boundaries and full of random bits of knowledge that Eri seemed to adore. They were out on a walk and somehow the school's familiar, boring premises had turned into something filled to the brim with wonders.

Neito had pointed out several different species of birds to her so far, and was currently engaged in telling her about how intelligent crows were.

"Really?" Eri's eyes were wide with fascination.

"Yes. They also care about each other immensely, warn each other about danger, tell each other where food is and even nurse their fellow crows back to health! They're very smart. And oh- look there! What do you see?"

Eri turned around, frantically searching for what his finger pointed at. "The pigeon?" She asked, a hint of scepticism in her voice.

"Mhm."

"What's so special about pigeons?"

He grinned at her. "They have excellent pattern recognition skills."

She frowned a little at the complex words. "What does that mean?"

"It means," said Neito, his grin widening, "that they can be taught to read!"

Eri gasped as he laughed, then continued to explain what he meant. He was never so soft when someone from class 1-A was around, but allowed himself to relax before the teachers.

Aizawa allowed himself to smile a little as he remembered the time Neito and Eri made apple tart together. Neito had resolutely prohibited her from even coming close to anything remotely dangerous, but had let her do smaller tasks to help him as he did the actual cooking. He'd written down the ingredients and recipe on a piece of paper in simple letters that she could understand, and had asked her to read it out to him.

"It's 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 important that you tell me the recipe correctly," he'd declared. "It's vital that I receive the correct instructions. It's alright to take your time to read it- in fact, that's great because it gives me time to prepare for action. But you 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 to say it in the correct sequence, okay?"

She'd proudly done as he had asked, and well- the resultant tart was excellent.

Aizawa would never have thought Neito to be so thorough with his plans. He'd boosted Eri's confidence in her reading skills and made her feel as though it were a very important job, even though he likely knew the recipe by heart. It had been a brilliant move on his part, and every sentence had been tailored to fill her with confidence. Small things like these had massive impacts, and the result was visibly positive. He was good at this. He seemed to be good at everything, really.

He 𝘸𝘢𝘴 a prince, after all.

A/N: i shuckin hate Tumblr, it keeps doing absurd things to this post. I'm having to?? Repost it?? Get your act together Tumblr, I had difficulty posting this to begin with and now visibility problems ;-;

Tumblr's shenanigans after all my efforts despite not having written in a while make me want to (⁠ノ⁠ಠ⁠益⁠ಠ⁠)⁠ノ⁠彡⁠┻⁠━⁠┻

Anyway, it was fun writing this, but please don't mind any mistakes because I didn't get much time to edit it, I mostly just skimmed over it really fast and smoothed over any mistakes I found :')

And my apologies to @probablybadmonomaficideas, I told you I'd post it in a few hours but I'm having trouble </3

As for the apple tart episode... Expect me to write it sometime ;)

[ohtobealady]

Love your latest cobert drabbles😘🥰please write more soon dear! They are perfect!!🤓❤️

(This request was in a comment somewhere that I cannot find! Please forgive me.)

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Oh,” Violet stood from her chair as her butler showed her daughter-in-law into her sitting room. “So you are back.”

And Cora entered, smiling, owning the room as she nearly always seemed to do, in her soft way—her face partly shaded by her kettle brim hat that covered one brow. Violet lifted her chin in greeting as her son’s wife drew toward her, her purple skirts rustling quietly.

“Hello, Mama,” she cooed, and Violet let Cora gently lean toward her, pressing her cheek quickly against her own, kissing the air beside her ear. Her perfume, always a little too strong for Violet’s taste, tickled her, and she blinked. “It’s lovely to see you.”

“Is it?” Violet answered, putting her finger to her nose, and then as Cora leaned away—straightening again to her full height—Violet cleared her throat. “I’m glad to hear it.”

She watched as Cora narrowed her gaze at her playfully, and shook her head. “Of course it is.” Her eyes were bright against the deep purple she wore, and there was a certain fullness in her cheeks that her tight grin made ever fuller.

She looked well, Violet thought, and she waved a hand toward the small couch near them, inviting her to sit.

“London seems to have agreed with you,” she said aloud as she watched her settle onto the seat. “You look quite refreshed.”

But the compliment wasn’t immediately accepted; Cora only looked down into her lap where she worked on taking off her gloves and chuckled.

“I’m not sure if it’s London, but thank you.”

“Perhaps not,” Violet answered, settling herself into her favorite chair. “Though having the last presented must certainly be a weight off your shoulders.”

“Well,” Cora looked up, and Violet saw her smirk. “We’ll see.”

Nodding, for she wasn’t quite sure how else to respond, Violet adjusted her hip in her seat.

“And how was it all in the end?” Violet lifted her chin, “After I returned. Did much happen?”

“Oh, it was wonderful,” Cora’s grin deepened. “We lost count of the invitations Sybil received.”

Violet was pleased at this and smiled. “Yes. Yes. She was charming, wasn’t she?”

Across from her, Cora nodded once, closing her eyes.

“And Mary and Edith?” Violet added. “Did they enjoy themselves?”

Cora took in a short breath and lowered her head. “Fewer invitations, but then, they have been out for so many seasons.”

“Yes,” Violet agreed. “The shine does dull slightly after the first one or two seasons, it’s true.” She shook her head and then leaned away. “I must say, after everything that’s happened these last months, your note to come to tea did raise a bit of an alarm.”

Across from her, Cora let her lips part slightly, “Oh?”

“After all, I wasn’t expecting you to call until tomorrow. You know, once you’ve settled in again after your journey. I thought if you wanted to see me so soon that the visit would come with some urgent message.”

“Well—“

“I imagined all manner of things. That Rosamund wouldn’t have Mary stay on. Or that Sybil had been arrested.” She chuckled. “Or even that Susan had written another letter. To the Turkish embassy! But I can see that nothing seems to be amiss, and of that I’m glad.”

“Well,” Cora’s voice was an octave lower than before, and Violet watched as she tipped her head, “There is something that I’ve come to tell you.”

“Oh dear.” Violet let her eyes go wide. She’d spoken too soon.

“Robert did suggest I simply include it in the note so as not to shock you, but I thought I’d better tell you myself.”

“So something has gone wrong,” Violet’s own voice grew higher. “If it has, please do just say what it is. I do hate suspense.”

“No. Not wrong. Perhaps a bit unexpected.”

Violet detected the smallest blush rise in her daughter-in-law’s cheeks.

“But nothing’s wrong at all.”

“I see,” Violet felt herself nod, blink. She lifted her head. “Then what is it?”

Across from her, Cora drew in a deep breath, her shoulders rising. Her cheeks grew pinker. “It seems that you’re to have another grandchild.”

“Am I?” She blinked again, and then tried to smile, for her daughter-in-law was smiling, though Violet’s mind struggled placing the words. “And who might that be?” she heard herself say, and then, just as soon as the words left her mouth — just as soon as she saw Cora’s features falter slightly — Violet’s mind finished its arithmetic. “Oh! Oh, you mean you?”

Cora’s smile deepened. She nodded.

“You and Robert?” She nearly gasped. “Oh, my dear! Well it is a bit unexpected, I admit.”

Across from her, Cora laughed. “Yes. Though you’ve reacted better than Robert. He nearly fainted.”

Violet didn’t doubt that in the slightest.

“I don’t think he would’ve believed me if Dr Clarkson hadn’t reassured him.”

“I can imagine,” Violet laughed, too. And then, looking over at her daughter-in-law again, she softened. “And the girls? Have you told them?”

“Well,” again, Cora’s head tipped as she spoke. “We’ve told Edith and Sybil. And we’ve written to Mary.”

Mary.

“And she’s not been in touch with Cousin Matthew?”

“Not that I’ve heard.”

It was impossible to miss the change in her daughter-in-law’s eyes at that—a cooling of the sparkle that had been there before—and, feeling her chest grow a little tighter, Violet smiled again. And this time, she felt it deeply.

“Wonderful news of course,” she repeated, and found herself reaching out to her son’s wife, images of the last birth flickering in her mind’s eye. Terrible images that Violet quickly pushed aside. “You must look after yourself.”

The glow washed over Cora once more. “Don’t worry.” She smiled, and Violet found that her thoughts must’ve been plainly obvious. “O’Brien has me wrapped in silk and feathers.”

[and-its-with-one-l-bitch]

i NEED to see a titoshaundi proposal for the prompt thingy pretty pleasee 🫶🏻

Prompt 31 - Proposal - 1.6k words, post-SR2.

The linen curtains sway in the breeze behind them, the soft glow of twilight illuminating the rooftop balcony of the fancy hotel they're staying in. The Saints make big money, and now they spend big money, and Shaundi? Hell, she's a celebrity now, nothing but the best for her. She's dressed like you wouldn't believe, the curls of her hair tied back into a loose ponytail and her dress tailored to perfection. It's purple and shimmers in the low light as she leans back in her dining chair, a faint smile on her face as she watches Tito across the table they share. He's dressed nicer than usual, shoved into classy clothes that don't quite seem to fit his frame, too tight in the shoulders and too baggy around his waist, but he's clean and tidy and fidgeting with the box under the table. Shaundi loves to watch him. "You know, when you showed up here, it was a surprise," she begins, straightening in her chair and leaning towards him, "a good one. After all we've been through, dinner dates were not what I expected. You've changed." She remarks with something lingering between admiration and confusion. "What happened?"

Tito swallows, hard, and quickly runs the back of his sleeve over his forehead as a feeling of dread and anticipation settles in his chest. He's got to be cool. Taking a deep breath, he shakes his head and forces a smile onto his face, digging down into the same reserves that got him through all the shit with Maero to steel himself for what comes next. "Shaundi," he begins, reaching out for her hands and taking a hold of them harder than he means to, "you and me, we've been around this city too many times to count. Y- uh, you mean so much... to me." He stumbles over his words, laughs with a little frustration, and powers on. "I can't imagine facing the future with no- with anybody else." With sweaty hands, he picks the ring box up out of his lap and places it on the table, something still too tense about his posture. "I want to spend the rest of my life, no matter how long, with you." Tito says with a smile, and across the candle-lit table, she brings a hand to her lips, a single tear glistening in the corner of her eye. Pressing on, he opens the ring box to reveal an enormous, diamond-studded band, pushing the box across the table. "You've been with me through thick and thin, Shaundi. I can't imagine my life without you. Will you—"

"CUT!" Comes the bellowing voice of the director, booming through the megaphone he absolutely does not need and only adding to the migraine currently making Tito's head spin. The illusion of intimacy, however fragile, is shattered immediately. He grits his teeth and prepares to listen to the little man squeal. "What the fuck was that?!" The director snaps, hopping off of his squeaky chair as he comes waddling to the table. Glancing at Shaundi, Tito spots her rolling her eyes before dropping her chin onto her steepled hands. "It's meant to be emotional! Passionate! You sound like you're gonna puke!" Cries the director, his hands in the air like he's begging for God's intervention. Tito's jaw tightens in time with his fists, his face growing hot. He never wanted to get involved with this show - shit, he could have never heard about it again and been at peace, but oh no, he had to be a pest, had to keep showing up on set and picking on the producers, had to keep dropping in to make sure Shaundi was fine. She always told him she was when he called her on the phone. Funny how he never believed her. Guess his face became too familiar on set, gave the producers too many ideas, and with enough convincing from the star herself ("It'll do wonders for the ratings, Boss!") he relented and agreed to the stupid script. Turns out reality TV isn't all that real.

"I just... don't think it makes sense." Tito says through clenched teeth, every instinct telling him to lash out at the angry director in his face, but something about Shaundi's expression holds him back. She looks almost... sad. "Look, Stilwater knows me as a shit-head, right? You think a suit and some emotional music is gonna make them forget Shivington?"

The director waves the script under Tito's nose. "Showbiz, kid. You know that prick with the shiny hair, Josh Birk, hottest thing on TV right now? Guess what he did before TV? Not fuckin' charity work, I'll tell you that. You've got to sell the lines."

"I am sellin' the lines!" Tito protests, rising from his seat to stand over the director as he feels his temper flare. Thing is, he really is doing the best he can. Never was much of an actor, but these words? He'd mean them, in another context, maybe in another life, but here? Surrounded by cameras and vultures? He feels boxed in, prodded. Searching for an anchor before he starts to lose his cool in a more permanent way, he looks to Shaundi for help and finds her giving him a sympathetic look that begs for him to just give it another shot. Ever since she showed him that she's the brains between them - at least a dozen times by now - he's been loath to refuse any of her ideas, and the pleading in her green eyes does him no favors. Snapping his mouth shut with an audible clack, he straightens out his shirt and slowly sits back down. The director scurries back to his chair.

"Take it from the top, people!" Orders the spiteful little man Tito has quickly grown to hate, waiting for the crew to settle back into their places; Tito takes a little bit longer to settle down and pretend like he doesn't feel sick to his stomach, but then the cameras are rolling again and he doesn't have much choice. From the top. One more time. Play the charade just once more.

"Shaundi," Tito says through the same tight smile he had on before, "you mean... God, what am I fucking saying?" He mumbles, planting his palms on the table. "You don't even know how many times you've saved my ass. The world wants you wrapped up in a bow and put on screen but I fuckin' miss you. Have I told you that? I don't wanna lose you. I know I'm shitty at this stuff," he scoffs a little, "but you always let me get away with it. You do mean the world to me. I'm sorry I don't show that enough."

Shaundi's eyes are narrowed, but there's a tiny smile twitching at the corner of her glittered lips. Wildly off-script but finally feeling like he's making sense, Tito takes another breath to finish the scene, the scenario, whatever, when, "CUT! Jesus, is this amateur hour?" The director's in his face again, and this time Tito's really pissed off, whatever confidence he'd clawed back snuffed out by the reddened face of the shouting man and his megaphone. Shaundi looks defeated; she'd been invested too, maybe hoping for an end to the never-ending work day. The director raises the megaphone to his lips but doesn't get the chance to start yelling again, not before Tito has snatched the damn thing out of his hands and tossed it over the penthouse railing. It's a miracle the table and the director don't follow, with Tito grinding his teeth to keep from committing a serious crime on camera. He stands up and shoves the director out of his space, but stops short of storming off. He looks to Shaundi, still sitting pretty as a picture in her glistening dress but looking exhausted.

"I'm sorry." Tito says quietly, feeling the fight go out of him as his shoulders sag. She offers a wry smile as she stands up, brushing out any wrinkles in her perfect dress as she rounds the table. "I hate the cameras." Tito whispers as she gets closer, and she hooks his arm without a word. "Can we go?"

Shaundi gives the director an icy, arched-brow stare that quells any argument, but her disappointment and fatigue are evident in every movement. She pats Tito's arm and steers him past the cameras into the back of the set, finally letting out a heavy sigh once she's sure they're alone. "God, I need a smoke." She groans, letting go of Tito as she comes to lean against a wall, hands on her knees. She looks up at him through fake lashes and begins to cringe. "I'm sorry I put you through all that. I know the show pisses you off."

"No, it's just," he sighs, feeling awkward now that it's just them, "I'm not made for the celebrity shit. You're good, you know? You're a real... star?" He says uncertainly, the words uncomfortable in his mouth as he says them, but Shaundi just laughs. She looks a little brighter as she stands up straight.

"You wanna get outta here?" She asks coyly.

"Where you thinking?"

"You still got that shitty apartment in the Red Light district?"

"Sure. It's still got that mold problem, though." He says, and even if he doesn't realise it, she's got his defenses down again. He feels relaxed. Shaundi grins, grabs his hand and tugs until he's following obediently. Glancing up at him, she's smiling again.

"Perfect. I stashed some weed in your dresser a few months back. I don't wanna hear any hang-ups; you are going to smoke that shit with me, we are gonna watch a shitty movie on that busted television, and we're gonna forget about all this. You with me?"

Leaving the set and trailing behind her, fingers hooked loosely together, he feels in this moment that he'd do anything he was told. "Yes, Boss." He says with a dopey, lopsided smile. "Wait, my dresser?"

[reddorkredemption]

My Blessed Son—Chapter 15

|| AO3 || Chapter List / Story Info ||  

Summary:

For years, Jack Marston dreamed of killing Edgar Ross, the man who had taken everything from him, who had ruined his life. His obsession with revenge had given him a reason to keep going. But now, after it was done, he was left lost, depressed and without purpose. He was left to navigate life alone with the unforgiving eyes of the law slowly narrowing in on him. Though he soon comes to realize that perhaps he isn't quite as alone as he thought he would be. A continuation from the end of Red Dead Redemption 1.

Word Count: ~6300

Chapter under the cut <3

Jack stared down at the open book in his hands, scanning over the strings of words on the page without truly processing them. Between the crackling of the fireplace, the nonstop ticking of the clock, and the anxious thoughts screaming in his head, he found it impossible to focus. 

It was the middle of the night, drawing close to when the sun would begin to rise, and he hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep. He had tossed and turned in bed for hours, kept awake by an overwhelming sense of foreboding. Unable to shake it, he abandoned any hope of sleep and dragged himself into the living room. 

There he pulled the book off the shelf, not even bothering to glance at the cover before settling down by the fireplace to read it. He had hoped it would distract him— that it would give him something else to think about besides the growing pit in his stomach.

It did not.

Jack shook his leg, rattling the chair underneath him, and shoved his nose further into the book. Starting back at the top of the page, he honed in on each individual word, screaming them in his head to drown out the incessant background noise.

He startled, heart nearly jumping out of his chest, when he heard a door within the house being pulled open. Lowering the book to rest in his lap, he looked towards the hallway, just in time to see Lilly sauntering out of the bedroom. He blew out a breath of relief.

She was looking down as she turned to come into the living room, fiddling with the lace on the short sleeve of a nightgown he’d never seen her wear before. She rarely wore anything with such short sleeves and never wore anything that showed skin on her neck and chest. He almost felt he ought to look away, yet he continued to stare.

She glanced in his direction and let out a little exclamation of surprise when she saw him sitting there. Quickly recovering from the surprise, she laughed and crossed her arms over her chest.

“Hey, Jack.” She shook her head. “God, you scared me. I didn’t think you’d be out here.”

“Uh, sorry,” he stammered, still a bit rattled himself.

“You better be,” Lilly teased, leaning against the corner of the wall. “Sittin’ in your own living room in your own house?” She scoffed. “I can’t believe the nerve of you….”

He mustered a laugh, hoping she wouldn’t be able to tell that his heart wasn’t in it. 

Her brow twitched, but she didn’t say anything. She pushed herself off the wall and approached him with a soft smile. “How’s the book?”

He lifted the book up from his lap, glancing over the open page. “It’s fine.”

“Just fine?” she asked, curiously bending over to see the cover. 

“Just fine,” he repeated flatly, snapping the book shut.

Her smile faltered a bit, and she straightened up. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” he said, glancing away from her. He shook his head and forced himself to sit up straighter. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“I don’t know….” She strolled the short distance to the sofa and sat down, wrapping her arms around herself. “For one, you aren’t normally up at this time.”

“I just couldn’t fall asleep,” he said. “Came out here lookin’ for something to do….” He frowned at the book in his hands and tossed it onto the coffee table. “And readin’ ain’t too interesting right now.”

She nodded slowly. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“What are you doin’ out here?” he asked, wanting to take the attention off of him. Although, her wandering around in the middle of the night wasn’t exactly new or surprising.

“The same, I suppose,” she said, tapping her foot. “Lookin’ for something to do.” Her hands trailed up to rest on her shoulders, her forearms covering up her chest and neck.

“Are you cold?” he asked, noticing how uncomfortable she seemed. “I can throw another log on the fire.”

“No, you don’t have to do that.” Her hands fell into her lap, and she stiffened. “I’m not.”

Jack watched her for a moment, the corner of his lip pulling back in dissatisfaction as she squirmed uncomfortably. Her eyebrows rose as he suddenly stood up and walked behind the sofa, making his way to a coat rack a few feet away.

The only article hanging on it was one of the old shawls his mother used to wear nearly every day, now untouched for months. He hesitated, biting his lip as the thought of disturbing the thing caused a wave of sorrow to wash over him. But as he glanced back at Lilly, he knew his mother would have wanted him to do this.

He pulled it off the rack and shook it out before returning to Lilly and gently draping it over her shoulders. She stared at him incredulously as he quietly sat down on the sofa next to her— as if he’d just wrapped a sheet of pure gold around her. In his head, maybe he had.

“I—” she stammered, pulling the fabric tighter around her shoulders. She shook her head. “Thank you.”

Jack shrugged as if it weren’t a big deal. 

“Y’know…” she said after a few minutes of silence, “I do have somethin’ we could do ‘til morning if you’re up for it.” 

“Okay,” he agreed without bothering to ask what she was talking about first. He’d do anything to make the time pass faster.

“Gimme a second.”

She leapt up and rushed to the master bedroom, rooting around in there for a short while before returning with a moderately-sized wooden box in her hands. She set it down on the coffee table then sat down in the chair across from him and grinned.

“What is this?” he asked.

“It’s a chess set,” she explained as she flipped open the latches on the box and began pulling pieces out and setting them up. “I used to spend hours playing this with my brother when we were younger. But here lately, I’ve only been able to play against myself. I can’t actually remember the last time I had someone else to play with….”

She paused and chuckled sheepishly. “Wow, that sounds… really pathetic when I say it out loud, doesn’t it?”

“No, it doesn’t,” Jack assured. If that was pathetic, he’d hate to know what he was.

She smiled at him and shook her head. “Anyway, I’m sorry for rambling again.” She refocused on the chess board, setting up the final piece before gently pushing the board closer to him. “Do you know how to play?”

“Vaguely,” he said. “You might need to give me a little refresher first.”

Lilly nodded. “I can do that. Here.” She carefully rotated the board around, the pieces she’d set up wobbling, threatening to topple over. “You can be white. I’ll remind you how to play and go easy on you for a couple games. Then we can start playin’ for real.” A smirk appeared on her face. “And whoever loses the most games can cook breakfast in the morning.”

“So you’re gonna show me how to play, then make me cook you breakfast when you beat me?” he asked lightheartedly, raising an eyebrow. “Is that fair?”

“It is when I’ve cooked every day since we’ve gotten here.”

He laughed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Guess I can’t argue with that.”

Lilly snickered and leaned forward, turning her attention to the chess board. Jack looked down at it as well, listening as she began pointing at the pieces and reminding him of the different ways they can move.

As she explained, his eyes left the board and floated up to her face. Her soft features were illuminated by the glowing fire, and the shawl wrapped around her shoulders was slipping down on one side. He felt warmth spread through his core and down to his fingertips as he watched her lips move.

She was pretty. He hadn’t allowed himself to think it before, not in such simple, blatant terms. And he would still never admit it out loud— he didn’t want to give off the wrong idea. But it had become hard for him to ignore.

He also couldn’t help but notice the quietness that had fallen over his mind since she came into the room— a stark contrast to the internal chaos he had been experiencing before. It was strange; he didn’t understand how she did it.

Lilly looked up, locking eyes with him as she finished going over the game’s rules. “Okay?” she asked, checking to make sure he understood.

Jack nodded.

“Good.” She grinned and waved a hand at the board. “You’re going first, then.”

He took his eyes off of her and furrowed his brows at the chess pieces. Without putting much thought into it, he moved one of his pawns forward to begin their first game.

———

They spent the rest of the night chatting and playing the game, stopping about an hour after sunrise when they finally grew bored of it. In the end, they had both won an equal number of games— though Jack suspected Lilly had manufactured that outcome— and thus ended up splitting the breakfast-making duties. He fried up some eggs from the chicken coop— the only food they ever had on hand— while she worked on brewing up a pot of coffee. 

The food was scarfed down the second it was taken out of the pan, gone long before the coffee was ready. Jack honestly could’ve skipped the coffee. He had never been a big fan of it. But he knew Lilly was dead set on having it, so he stayed in the kitchen with her, waiting for it to be ready.

Her excitement when the timer finally went off was frankly adorable, and he chuckled as she eagerly pulled the kettle off the stove.

“Want some?” she asked as she filled up a cup.

“Sure.”

She handed the cup to him and grabbed herself a new one, filling it up as well.

Lilly settled in front of the kitchen window, leaning against the counter and holding her steaming cup of coffee in both hands. Jack stood beside her, resting his own cup on the counter and loosely holding onto the handle.

She blew on her coffee, took a sip, and sighed contentedly. “So what’s on the agenda for today?”

He shrugged. “Same as every other day, I guess.”

She gave a disappointed sigh and looked out the window.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. 

“Nothing. Just getting tired of cutting grass and pulling weeds by the barn all day,” she said. “A little change of scenery would be nice.”

Jack scratched his chin. “I guess we could do something different today. There’s plenty to do.”

“Like what?”

He pursed his lips as he thought over the list of things that still needed to be done around the ranch. Most of it likely wouldn’t have appealed to her— chopping firewood, going hunting so they could stop eating eggs for almost every meal. More fence repairs, more monotonous weed pulling. Eventually, they would also have to fix up the barn if they ever wanted any more animals, but Jack meant to put that off for as long as he could.

There was only one other thing he could think of.

“Why don’t we clean up the gazebo?” he suggested. “I remember you was wantin’ to do that when you first got here.”

It was probably the least important task on their to-do list, but it was different, and it was easy. Plus, it would be nice to have the space to sit and hang out outside again.

“Sure. I like that plan.” Lilly smiled and clinked her cup against his. “I’m touched that you remember I said that.”

“Well, like I said before, rememberin’ things is my curse,” he joked half-heartedly. 

“Ah.” She chuckled. “Right.”

Jack rested his elbows against the counter and stared into the steam rising from his still-full cup of coffee.

“So… you ever gonna drink any of that?” Lilly asked, nodding at his cup as she went for another sip from hers.

He wrinkled his nose and admitted, “...I don’t really like coffee.”

She snorted, covering her mouth to keep her drink from spilling out. “What? Why’d you take it then, if you don’t like it?”

“I’m… not completely sure,” he said, frowning down at the cup and giving the liquid inside a swirl. “I guess… ‘cause you like it?”

Her smile grew. “What does it matter what I like?” 

“Well…” he started, only to immediately trail off when he realized he didn’t know the answer to that himself. Why did it matter? “I don’t know,” he thought out loud to avoid an awkward silence. “I just… I like you.”

Lilly’s cheeks flushed, and she breathed out a laugh and bowed her head.

Jack cringed as he realized how oddly that had come out. Why couldn’t he have just stayed quiet? He stammered, “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be strange. I meant—”

“You’re not,” she said, smiling down at the cup in her hands. “I like you too.”

Jack blinked at her a few times, unsure of how to respond. She looked up and winked at him as she lifted her cup to her lips. He turned his head, trying to hide the redness he was sure was spreading across his face.

It seemed to be a talent of his, making a fool of himself in front of her. All he meant was that she was a good friend to him, and because of that, he wanted to be respectful of the things she liked.

He stole a glance at her. She had resumed looking out the window, the soft smile on her face illuminated by the sunlight leaking inside. Something in his chest stirred as he looked at her, and he swallowed and stared down at his hands. 

Was that what he meant?

Before he could think too hard about it, Lilly suddenly asked, “Who is this?”

He lifted his head. “Huh?”

She set her coffee down and pointed out the window.

Confused, Jack leaned in closer to her, craning his neck to look outside. His heart sank to his feet when he saw what she was talking about. 

Outside were two men— one quite a bit taller than the other— slowly making their way down the path towards the house, looking around intently as they walked. They were dressed up in suits, adorned at the breast with tiny, glinting badges. Their appearances left no doubt in Jack’s mind about who they were.

“Shit,” he muttered, stepping backwards.

He grabbed Lilly’s shoulders and yanked her away from the window, pulling her out of the kitchen and into the hallway. Letting go of her, he approached the back door of the house, careful to keep his footsteps quiet.

“Jack, what is going on!?” Lilly asked, bewildered.

Jack shushed her and shoved his ear against the door, listening as the sound of feet crunching in the grass drew closer to the house. 

“Why do we even bother coming out here anymore?” he heard one of the men complain, his voice muffled by the door. “No one’s ever around; this is a waste of time.”

“Maybe not,” said another man. “There’s a horse over by the barn this time.”

Cursing under his breath, Jack backed away from the door. He grabbed Lilly’s wrist and tugged her with him as he retreated to the other end of the hall. She questioned him again, but the anxiety rushing through his head kept him from processing what she’d said.

Then came the dreaded knock on the door.

He had spent countless hours obsessing over what he would do in that situation, but now that it was happening, he wasn’t sure what to do. Sure, he could ignore them and pretend no one was home, but they had seen his horse. If he didn’t answer, they would just keep coming back every day until he did. If he did answer, who knows what would happen— probably nothing good. 

Suddenly, an idea came to him.

Turning to Lilly, he asked in a frantic, hushed tone, “Can you answer the door?”

“What? Why me?” she asked, widening her eyes at him. “I don’t wanna talk to them! Why are they here?”

“I can’t—” Jack took a deep breath, blowing it out through his mouth in an attempt to stay calm. He clasped his hands together. “Just— just open the door and see what they want. Please.”

She gaped at him. “And say what!?”

Another, more forceful knock echoed throughout the house.

“I don’t know!” he snapped. “Just… make them go away! Tell ‘em I ain’t here!”

A voice called out from the other side of the door, announcing the presence of law enforcement, and the door knob was shaken. Thank God he had remembered to lock it the night before….

Lilly went rigid and quiet, staring wide-eyed at the door. Jack pushed himself into her line of sight and gently grabbed onto her upper arms to break her out of her stupor. He looked her straight in the eyes, silently and shamelessly pleading with her, begging her to help him.

She swallowed and shook her head. “Okay.” 

Jack let go of her, giving her a look of immense gratitude.

“Okay,” she repeated, nervously shaking out her hands. “I’ll… try.” 

He nodded. That was all he wanted.

While Lilly headed for the door, Jack scurried down the hall and tucked into his parents’ old bedroom. He knelt down by one of the windows, positioning himself at an angle where he could see the door and the men standing in front of it. 

After a few agonizing seconds, the door cracked open.

“Oh,” the taller of the two men uttered, raising his eyebrows as Lilly poked her head out. He shared a glance with the other man and motioned for him to follow as he stepped back to stand in the dirt at the foot of the little set of stairs. Clearing his throat, he turned his sights back on Lilly. “Hello.”

The door creaked as Lilly opened it farther. “Hi,” she said cautiously, gripping onto the door frame. 

“Sorry to disturb you so early, miss. I’m Agent Winder with the Bureau of Investigation, and this is my partner”— he jutted a thumb out at the shorter man— “Agent Jameson. How are you doing today?”

Jack couldn’t help but scoff at that. He wondered if they would have been so polite had he been the one to answer the door.

Lilly’s response was simple and aloof, though Jack knew her well enough to hear the anxiety behind her words: “What do you want?”

The man frowned, dropping his cordial demeanor for the cold formality that Jack was more accustomed to experiencing from them. “We’re looking for a Jack Marston,” he said, his voice lower than before. “He’s supposed to live here.”

“He’s not here right now,” Lilly answered before he had finished speaking. 

“Well, where is he? We need to speak with him urgently.”

“Why?” she asked, a tinge of genuine curiosity breaking through her standoffishness. “Is he in trouble?”

Jack held his breath, wishing she hadn’t asked that. He didn’t want them to tell her about Ross. As much as he dreaded telling her himself, having her find out from these assholes would be so much worse. 

Still, he was curious what their answer would be, and he leaned closer to the window to make sure he caught it. 

“Not at the moment, no. We just want to talk to him.”

“So where is he?” the shorter agent finally spoke up, his voice deeper and more irritated than the other’s.

“He… went out of town around a month ago,” Lilly answered slowly. “He hired me to look after the property while he’s gone.”

“To where?” he pressed, his voice rising.

Lilly recoiled a bit at his tone, and the back of Jack’s neck prickled with anger. As far as they were concerned, she hadn’t done anything wrong; they had no right to speak so harshly to her. But unfortunately, there was nothing he could do about it. He had to remain hidden.

She hesitated before responding, “Boston.”

The men gave each other a look of alarm, and one asked, “What part? What’s he doing all the way up there?”

“When is he coming back?” the other man added.

Lilly froze, retreating further into herself as the barrage of questions hit her. “Look, I-I’m sorry, but I don’t know,” she said, her nerves beginning to show in her voice. “He didn’t tell me anything, just asked me to do him a favor and pop in every once in a while to make sure everything’s okay.”

“Would you mind if we came in for a few minutes?” the taller agent suddenly asked, stepping back up onto the first stair. “Have a quick look around?”

“No, you can't,” she said firmly, the door squealing as she abruptly pulled it closer to her. When he raised an eyebrow at her response, she explained, “I-I don’t think that J— that Mr. Marston— would appreciate me lettin’ strangers into his home.”

The man humphed at her answer and stepped back again.

 “Why do you need to come in anyway?” Lilly asked. “I told you where he is. What else do you want?”

“Nothing,” he said after a brief pause. “That was all.” He shared another look with his partner then nodded at Lilly. “Thank you for the information, miss, er— What was your name?”

Lilly hesitated and looked down at her feet. “It’s, um…”

“No need to think about it,” the deeper voice chimed in. “Just your name—”

“It’s Lettie,” she said, snapping her head back up.

“Lettie what?”

“Hall. Lettie Hall.”

He nodded. “Jameson, write that down,” he said, leaning towards the other agent, who started digging in his breast pocket for a small pad of paper. 

“Spell it,” the man demanded, readying his pen against the paper.

Lilly did as he asked, and he scribbled down the false name. 

“Well, thank you again, Miss Hall,” the taller agent said. “We’ll be in touch should we have any more questions for you.”

“Okay,” Lilly replied, voice shaking slightly.

“You have a fine day.” 

Lilly gave them a single nod in response and slowly shut the door on them.

Jack let out a shaky sigh of relief as the men finally turned their backs on the door and strolled back to the path. As they rounded the corner out of sight, he stumbled to his feet and backed away from the window before rushing out of the bedroom. He needed to make sure they really left.

His shoulder clipped Lilly, who stood leaning against the wall with her arms wrapped around herself, as he scurried out into the hallway. He didn’t give her so much as a second glance before dashing down the hall, clumsily dodging the furniture that littered his path to the dining room window at the other end of the house.

Standing off to the side of the window, he pulled the curtain open a mere inch or two and peeked outside. He spotted the men not too far away from the window, talking amongst themselves as they walked down the path that led out of Beecher’s Hope.

He put his ear closer to the window and held his breath to hear their muffled conversation:

“…swear to Christ if that asshole Fordham makes us go all the way out to Boston now…” one of the men— Jack couldn’t quite tell which one— said.

The other sighed. “You know he’s going to. He’s getting desperate to put this thing to rest.”

“Maybe he oughta haul his pompous ass up there instead then,” was the agent’s irate reply. “This is his problem.”

Jack strained to hear the other man’s response, but he was only able to make out a few stray words that didn’t mean much of anything when put together. Eventually, as they got farther away, he could hear nothing beyond the wind that blew over the ranch. Still, he continued to watch the men as they slowly shrank into the distance.

When he could no longer see them, he pulled away from the window, letting the curtain flutter back into place. Closing his eyes, he rested his forehead against the wall and took a deep breath as he tried to calm his racing heart.

They were gone now. They believed he was over a thousand miles away; they’d have no reason to come back— not anytime soon. He didn’t allow himself to dwell on what would happen after soon passed. For now, Lilly had gotten rid of them, and that was all he cared about.

He lifted his head. Lilly. Somewhere in his spiral of anxiety, he had forgotten about her— forgotten to consider how stressful the situation was for her too. She actually had to talk to those idiots. Guilt bubbling up in his stomach, he spun around. 

He spotted her sitting quietly on the sofa, slouched over and staring at her hands with furrowed brows. Immediately, he made his way over to her.

She didn’t look up as he approached, nor did she look up as he stood awkwardly by, staring down at her.

“They’re gone,” he said. “I— Thank you.”

“Sure,” Lilly mumbled. She sounded miles away, distracted by the gears turning inside her head, trying to process what had just happened. She looked up at him. “Why are they lookin’ for you? What do they want?” Her voice trembled slightly, and she eyed him with a suspicion that made him feel cold.

“I don’t…” Jack looked down at his feet and swallowed hard. He couldn’t bring himself to look back up, to look her in the eyes as he lied to her again. So he murmured to the floor, “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” she asked, an unexpected harshness rising in her voice. 

He flinched at her tone and snapped his head up, widening his eyes at her.

“You don’t know,” she continued with a sardonic laugh as she stood up off the sofa. “Is that why you freaked out and hid the second you saw ‘em?”

His heart crept up into his throat, and he stared back at her, dumbstruck. He couldn’t remember the last time she’d spoken to him that way. He had gotten so used to her turning a blind eye to his strange behavior, accepting his non-explanations with little more than a raised eyebrow. He half-expected to receive that same reaction this time, but he supposed everyone had a breaking point.

He wanted to be angry at her for it, but all he felt was a sinking in his chest.

“At what point are you gonna cut the shit, Jack?” she asked, throwing her hands up in the air. “Do you think I don’t notice you hidin’ something from me? Do you think I’m an idiot?”

He stared stupidly back at her, unable to find his voice.

“If… if you don’t trust me,” she started, her voice cracking as the anger in her eyes turned to hurt, “maybe I should just go.” She wrapped her arms around herself and turned her back to him, facing the door.

“No,” Jack croaked, finally remembering how to speak. He reached out to her, freezing with his hand hovering a few inches from her shoulder. “I didn’t— I was—” He fumbled around for the right words, growing angry with himself when he couldn’t find them.

He groaned, threw himself down onto the sofa, and buried his head in his hands, tightly latching onto fistfuls of his hair.

“I’m sorry,” he managed. “I was gonna tell you. I swear I was.” His grip on his hair tightened. “But I didn’t know how, okay? I don’t want you to leave. You—”

He bit his tongue as the rest of the sentence played out in his head: You’re all I have. One of his hands untangled itself from his hair and slid down his face to cover his mouth.

He glanced at her, immediately peeling his eyes away when he saw her staring back at him as if he were a lost puppy. He had never felt more pathetic— more ashamed and embarrassed— than he did in that moment.

The sofa creaked as she sat down beside him. “I’m sorry for yellin’. Just— what is going on?” Her voice had softened yet a hint of exasperation remained.

Knowing he couldn’t keep this up any longer, Jack groaned and pulled his hand away from his mouth. He slouched forward and stared at the floor.

“If I had to guess,” he began, speaking slowly and choosing his words carefully, “they’re lookin’ for me because they think I might’ve shot some old asshole down in Mexico. Some retired government agent that… knew my pa.”

“...Did you?”

He slouched over farther, nearly touching his nose to his knees, and mumbled, “Yes.”

He heard her exhale in shock but kept his head down. He didn’t want to look at her. He didn’t want to see her reaction— to see that pretty face he’d grown so fond of contort in disgust at what he had done. He didn’t want to watch as she got up and left him.

She was quiet for a long time, and to his surprise, she made no moves to get up from the sofa or scoot away from him. His leg began to shake as he waited for her to say something.

Finally, she simply asked, “Why?”

Jack stilled, caught off guard by the question. Or rather, not by the question itself— he’d heard it plenty of times before, from his mother, from Bonnie— but by the way Lilly had asked it. There was no anger, no follow-up rant about how stupid he was for doing it. Just a genuine desire to understand.

He took a moment to consider his response before settling on, “He took everything from me.”

Lilly remained silent, looking at him expectantly, as if waiting for him to elaborate.

Jack explained, “He forced my pa to go out and do his dirty work for him— capture and kill anyone they asked him to. They told him if he did it, they’d leave him alone for good, but if he didn’t, then bad things would happen to my ma and me.” 

He took a deep breath, anger rising inside of him as he recalled everything he’d read in his father’s journal. “So he did everything they asked of him, and they let him go. We all thought that was the end of it.” 

He shook his head and balled up his fists. “But that piece of shit, Ross”— his voice dripped with venom as he spoke the name— “came up to the ranch and killed him anyway. Brought the whole Goddamn army and shot him to pieces right outside of the barn.”

He shuddered and closed his eyes, the image of his father lying bleeding in front of the barn, cradled in his mother’s arm, still vivid in his mind.

“Christ,” Lilly whispered. “That is just… monstrous.”

Jack nodded. “And if that weren’t enough, he killed my ma too— in a way,” he continued. “All her spirit? It died with Pa. And by the time she got sick, she didn’t care no more. She said she was tryin’, said she was doin’ everything she could to get better, but I knew she wasn’t. I knew she didn’t wanna be here anymore.”

It killed him to remember the way his mother faded away after his father died. As much as he had tried to delude himself into thinking otherwise, he knew that she had been buried with him the day he died. The empty husk that floated around the house in the years following was little more than a ghost, desperately yearning for a way back to the home she’d lost.

Jack also couldn’t deny the way Ross had ruined him too. He had been turned into an angry shell of who he used to be. What ever happened to that shy little boy who loved to read? Who loved nature and wanted to help people? Who had big dreams for the future? 

He didn’t even know who that person was anymore— he may as well have been buried with his father too.

He didn’t vocalize these feelings to Lilly, however. He already felt like he’d just ripped his heart out of his chest and tossed it onto the coffee table for her to see. He didn’t care to pull out a knife and start dissecting every last centimeter of it too.

Jack sighed heavily and rubbed his sore chest, bringing the discussion to an end by muttering, “I couldn’t just let everything he did go unpunished. Especially after seein’ how… celebrated he was for it.”

He furrowed his brows and went quiet, staring down at his knees.

“I’m so sorry,” Lilly said, barely above a whisper. “I don’t… I don’t quite know what to say….”

“Don’t have to say anything.” He sniffled and rubbed his nose. “It doesn't really matter anymore.”

“Yes, it does,” she murmured, scooting closer to him.

She tenderly touched his shoulder and began rubbing small, soothing circles against his skin. And for once, he leaned into the touch, relishing in the tiny bit of comfort it brought him. His reception of the gesture seemed to instill some more confidence in her, and she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a warm hug.

They stayed that way for a while, neither speaking nor making any effort to move. That was, until Jack broke the silence with a sigh.

“I’m sorry you got dragged into this,” he said, turning his head to look at her. “I know it’s a whole lot more than you bargained for. I understand if you don’t wanna stick around anymore.”

She squeezed him then pulled away and gave him a reassuring smile. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Really?” he asked, voice cracking. “You’re gonna stay?” 

Her smile saddened. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Why would you?” He shook his head. “I think, at this point, any sensible person would wanna leave.”

She shrugged and looked down at her hands, fidgeting with her fingernails. “Well, I never claimed to be a sensible person.”

Hearing those words made his heart swell. They squashed down that fear of abandonment he had been wrestling with ever since he started to get closer to her. He still didn’t understand why she would stay, but it didn’t really matter all that much. He wasn’t going to question it any further, for fear of making her change her mind.

Lilly asked, “So… what are we gonna do now?”

Jack looked down in thought. Despite the dramatics, nothing had really changed. He knew when he chose to come back to the ranch that the law showing up was a possibility he’d have to face. And the way he planned to face it remained the same. Stay out of sight of the law for as long as possible; then, when that failed, dig his heels into the dirt and vehemently deny any wrongdoing. 

He wasn’t completely sure how Lilly being around would affect things, but his hope was that they would just ignore her. She hadn’t done anything wrong, after all.

Whatever happened, he couldn’t allow himself to be scared off. He couldn’t abandon the ranch again— not after he and Lilly had made so much progress on fixing the place up.

Sighing, he glanced at Lilly and answered, “I guess… we’re gonna wait a few hours to make sure they’re outta here. Then… we’re gonna go clean up the gazebo like we was plannin’.”

“What?” She looked at him like he’d grown a second head.

“I said, we’re gonna go clean the—”

“So that’s just that?” she asked, shaking her head. “We’re just gonna… carry on like nothing happened? You’re not gonna do anything?”

“I did say we’d wait a few hours to make sure they leave,” he reminded her with a shrug. “What else can I do?”

“Well… I don’t know. I figured you’d wanna run away or hide somewhere or… something.”

“I was going to,” he admitted. “That was my plan back when I left the city.” His eyes wandered up until they froze on the portrait of his parents that hung above the fireplace. “But I couldn’t,” he told her, brows setting in determination. “I had to— I have to stay here. Long as I play my cards right, they can’t prove I did nothin’ anyway.”

Lilly followed his gaze up to the portrait, taking a moment to silently observe it along with him. 

She put a hand on his shoulder and said with a soft finality, “Then stay we will.”

Jack peeled his eyes off the photograph to look at her, and she gave him a small smile.

“I can’t say I have much experience outwitting the BOI,” she said, “but I’ll do whatever I can to help.”

In any other situation, he may have laughed at that, but he couldn’t find it in him. He only quietly thanked her.

Jack rested his palms on his knees as they fell silent again. The combination of the day’s dramatics, the pouring-out of all the emotions and memories he usually kept locked away, and the lack of sleep the night before had left him feeling exhausted.

“I think,” he said, stroking his forehead, “I need to go lie down alone for a while.”

Lilly nodded. “I understand.”

He stood up and with his back to her, mumbled, “I’ll meet you outside in a few hours.”

With that, he shuffled towards the solitude of his bedroom.

[hey-imma-fangirl]

(again it’s not cheating cuz I fixed this one)

‘A Very Devil Christmas’ but it’s in the Welcome Back to The Casino AU Part II

The Devil appeared in Santa’s office, though the Jolly freak was nowhere to be seen. Though it was a rather cozy office, she dared to say that it was just as cozy as her own office. She walked over to the desk, two lists atop it. A part of her wanted to just write her name on the nice list anyways and be on her merry way.

Though she decided against it.

She wanted to make sure Santa knew just what to get her. As well as the fact that she wanted to stay on his nice side. And if he walked in on her writing her own name I’m his nice list… It would not end well for her getting her Choo-Choo. Instead she turned to his chair and sat down- the seat being incredibly comfortable. She spin around a few times, giggling to herself.

Though her fun ended quite abruptly, as she heard footsteps and the doors starting to open. She quickly turned towards the giant window, facing her back to the door;

“Hello Nicolas.” She turned in his office chair. The Devil always enjoyed making a dramatic entrance- especially if it could make someone speechless in fear.

“Oh- Hoho… Hello…” Santa blinked, waving back to her. “My… What a… Pretty girl?… You are…”

She brushed off his remark. The horns and tail always threw people off. But she didn’t necessarily mind the confusion, as it usually lead to fear. She grabbed her trident and stood, gliding over to the msn with the red coat.

“Oh my… Who are you exactly?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll make this quick, Santa.” She stopped in front of him, noticing a spec of… Something on his red cost. “I’d like to inquire about this nice list of yours.” The Devil picked off the piece of dust with a couple sharp fingernails and straightened out his white beard- which was also bugging her- though he didn’t seem awfully phased by it.

“Oh-ho, I see, this is about a present.” His confusion turned to a smile. “Well, just whisper into Santa’s ear what you want.”

“Really?” She blinked, though she soon noticed a very degrading detail. She gave him a few seconds to perhaps sit in a chair so she could tell him properly. She often saw Santa- or perhaps one of his brothers/cousins- in malls in a big red chair and children would sit on his lap and tell him their demands for what they wanted for Christmas. She just wanted to be a part of that. “Aren’t you going to… Y’know… Pull up a chair or something?”

“Oh- Hoho, of course, one second.”

He pulled up a little stool and patted his knee, the Devil clapped her hands and jumped in place- rather excited. She sat on his lap and whispered in his ear;

“I want a Choo-Choo.”

“You want a tutu? Sure! Santa will bring you a tutu!”

“Not a tutu! I said Choo-Choo!”

“Ohhh! Hoho!” Santa laughed at his mistake, though the Devil rolled her eyes and shook her head as she stood back up.

“Well, that was easier than I thought. I suppose I will be on my way, thank you.”

“Ok! Let me just find your name on the list.”

The Devil stopped short.

‘Shit.’

“You wanted a tutu?” Santa opened what she assumed was the nice list.

“Uh- Choo-Choo…” She approaching him from behind to see the list better.

“Right, right! And- And Uh- what is your last name?”

“Uh… Uhm… Morningstar…” The Devil never shared her real name with anyone, but this was a special occasion.

“Huh… I’m not seeing anything. What’s your first name?”

“Lucifer.”

“Lucifer Morningstar…” The man repeated over and over whilst looking over the list again- in the ‘M’ section as the list was in alphabetical order. “Huh, let me check the other list.” He rolled the nice list back up and opened the other list.

“You don’t have to do that, you can just- “

“What?!” Santa bellowed, shocked. “Your Lucifer- er the Devil? You’re number one on the naughty list!”

“That won’t be a problem… Right?”

“Oh, you’ve been a very bad girl indeed, Luci- “

“DON’T call me Luci.”

“Devil- You haven’t been nice one day since the beginning of time!” The man in the red coat paced around the room. “I’d be impressed if I wasn’t so Ho-Ho-horrified… I guess this means you won’t be getting that tutu after all.”

“CHOO-CHOO!” The Devil stamped her foot and struck her trident to the ground, tears in her eyes.

“No tutu, no choo-choo.” Santa said sternly.

The Devil sniffed sadly, dragging her feet back to the man’s desk chair and hid her face in her hands.

“Henchwoman was right.” She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “I’ll never make it on the nice list.”

“Awe…” He patted her head comfortingly. “Tell you what,” She glanced up at him. “If you can be nice until the stroke of midnight, I’ll put you on the nice list and get you a nice Choo-Choo. Deal?”

She sat up excitedly.

“You’ve got a deal, Santa! I won’t let you down! You’ll see!” She ran off with her trident.

“Just remember, be nice.”

“Oh please, the Devil always holds her side of the deal.” She struck her trident to the ground and disappeared in a cloud of smoke.

☃️ ☃️ ☃️

She appeared in the middle of town, determined to get to the nice list.

“Alright I can do this! Nice… I gotta be nice. Gotta get on the nice list.” She felt a tug on her dress. “What do you want?” She whipped around.

“Spare some change for the unfortunate?” An old man held out a can with a few quarters and a dollar bill in it. The Devil furrowed her eyebrows and blinked before cocking her head to one side.

“Ew.” She blasted the man to a pile of ashes with her pitchfork. Before she could even stop herself, the awful deep was done. The Devil face-palmed, a low growl grew from the back of her throat. Not even thirty seconds and she had already broken her word. Though… The night wasn’t over. Perhaps she could ask Santa to overlook that small incident?

“What happened?” The man asked, the most mad he had ever been since she met him.

“Well… I was off to a good start!”

“Yeah, for like ten seconds!” He gripped the bridge of his cherry-like nose. “Santa needs a drink.” He stood and walked over to a globe of earth, once opened, revealed a plate of cookies and milk.

“So improvement counts for nothing?!” She crossed her arms.

“I’m afraid at this rate, you’ll be on the naughty list… Forever.” The man turned back to her.

“For… Forever…?” The Devil’s disappointment and despair boiled into rage;

Ǐ̢͙͕͍͇͈̺͖̫ ̸͎̪̟̏̽̓W͎͓͚͖̱̐ͨ̑͗͟I̩̺͐͟L͔̰̝̰̪̲͚͐̅̊͝Ḽ͕̱̺̫̪͇̖͑͡ ̡̞̪̝͉͐͗͐B͕̺̼͖̲͈̽̍ͬ̊͝U̯̬͔̔͘R͙̳̬͈̺͆͛́͜Ň̳̞̿͘ ̙͍͙͍̭ͯͧ̇͢Y̨͚̟͕̥̻͇̎ͧͅOͫ̂͊̚͏͙͔̟̲͉U̙̼̥̟̩̓͝ͅͅ ͬ͌͂͏̭̗͇F̫̱̠̲̱̅͝O̳̱̬̯̹̯̟̱͌ͭͦ͝Ř̳̪̬͕̋̕E̫͕͇͉͉͋̀̃͗͝ͅV̖̙͓͍̲͚̼̒̾̒̀E̡̥̗̒ͨR̸͍̟̙̦̖̜͔ͯ!͇͈̰̫̰̜̩̘ͥ̑ͧ͂͜

Unfazed, Santa tutted and opened the nice list and- somehow got a pencil out of nowhere.

“‘Threatened Santa’…”

“What?! Nononono! I’m sorry!” She fell to her knees, begging at this point. “I just wanted a tutu!”

“Choo-Choo.”

“Right…”

She looked up at him with desperate eyes, her red lip quivering a bit.

“Well, if you really want on the nice list, there is one other way. But it comes at a cost.”

“Yes! Yes! I’ll do anything!”

**TW Mention of Santanic rituals and other rituals that include talking to the dead in this next paragraph- mostly because this scene from the episode made me go wtf**

Out of all sacrificial rituals she had endured from the surface world- all of the things that insane humans did to appease the ‘needs’ she had, this was the weirdest. The Devil herself never knew why humans did the things they did to satisfy her. The whole ‘talking to the dead thing’ and the Ouija boards gave her a headache just as much. She had never personally been in presence of one-

And she decided that she hated it.

But anything to get her Choo-Choo.

With a cloud of… Magic she supposed, Santa disappeared. The Devil looked around, incredibly confused. She’d be impressed if she wasn’t so confused-

And over dealing with this big, red goof.

“Santa? Where’d you go?” She turned around multiple times, the elves going back to being their stupidly jolly selves and singing. “Santa?!”

“What the f- “

🎁 🎁 🎁

The Devil walked through the grand doors entering her throne room, setting her trident against a support beam near her throne.

“What a complete waste of time.” She stopped to sit in her throne, but went ahead and head to bed. “All of that for a Choo-Choo I won’t even get!” She fell face-first on her bed, the mattress screaming a loud creek below.

“Boss! You’re home!” Henchwoman called behind her. “How’d it go?”

“I didn’t make it on the nice list.” The Devil shook her head, refusing to lift her head from the bed. “I made a deal with him that I’d he nice until midnight and I couldn’t even do that.” She sighed. “I suppose it’s just a lost cause.”

“Daw, Boss, don’t talk like that.” The Devil felt a pressure near her head on the bed, Henchwoman’s hand kindly running fingers through her matted black hair. “Who knows, maybe he’ll change his mind and bring you one anyway.”

“No he won’t. I’m just going to go to bed and sleep until July.”

“It’s only 3 pm… Duh… Ok.” Henchwoman stopped petting her abruptly. “Hey, uh… Boss? You goin’ gray? You look like you need hair dye- “

“What was that?” The Devil shot her head up.

“Nothin’ Boss! I’m gonna go run the vacuum in the throne room, Boss!”

The Devil stood and growled, a lock of hair fell over her face, her bangs indeed having a few curly white hairs. Shaking her head, she magically got in her pajamas and climbed into bed, hugging a pillow and burying her face into it, sobbing.

(The third part might take a little bit longer to come out. I got a couple Christmas parties this weekend that I gotta bake cookies for still)

[tough-girl9]

The Atoms of Us (An Infinity Particle Fanfic)

Summary: Three days after the showdown with Dr. Lin, Clem and Kye are figuring out what the future holds for both of them. Whatever it holds, they'll be facing it together.

Rating: K

Also posted on AO3 and FFN

Author's Note: I just read The Infinity Particle about a week ago and fell in love. I was heartbroken that there was no fanfiction for this beautiful book, so I knew I had to rectify it by writing my own. I hope this is the first of many to follow by others who discover Wendy Xu's lovely story.

--------------------------------------

"Hey girl, later." Nadiya turned and waved on her way out the door, Cheshire clutched in her arms. The robot cat scowled and shoved a final piece of cardboard packaging into his mouth as the door shut.

Clementine did one last sweep of the shop, straightening tools, neatly stacking silicate discs, and putting away jars of nanomachine paint in the overnight cabinet. When she finished, the workshop was still cluttered, but there was something comforting about it all the same. Everything to help each robot who came here become whole and return to their human companion healthy again. Clem did one last check then swiped her wristband to clock out. Grabbing her satchel, she took off down University Street towards home, SENA riding on her shoulder as usual.

They caught the cable car heading upwards towards the residence sector. Clem leaned against the window, looking out at the reddish-brown rooftops as the car carried them upwards through Tithonium. Distractedly, she reached into her pocket then adjusted her satchel. A few seconds later she ran her fingers through her messy strawberry red hair and adjusted her satchel again.

"Nervous?" SENA chirped in her sweet little voice.

Clem immediately dropped her hands. "No," she said a little too quickly.

SENA fluttered down to land in Clem's lap. She folded her stubby arms. "You never fidget like that unless you're nervous."

Clem sighed as she caught herself trying to adjust her satchel yet again. "OK, yeah. I'm nervous. A little bit."

SENA blinked. "Why?"

Clem rubbed a hand through her hair, tangling it even further. "I dunno."

"Kye's been living with us for the past three days," SENA pointed out. "You exist around him just fine at our apartment. Why would it be any different to exist around him in a different location?

Robot logic. Impossible to argue with. Clem shook her head. "I dunno, it's just different. You wouldn't understand."

SENA fluttered her brown- and white-spotted wings. "It's not my fault you didn't program it into me then."

Clem booped her little build on the nose. "I don't remember programming that sort of sass into you either."

SENA sniffed. "I've had no problem picking that up from you, Nadiya, and Mykael on my own, thank you. Robots learn, remember?"

How could she forget? Robots had been her life since she was little. But even that couldn't have prepared her for all the events that had unfolded in the last week and a half since she'd arrived on Mars. Distracted, she went back to staring out the window. But now, instead of rooftops, she saw dark, soulful eyes gazing tenderly back at her…

"Clem? Clem!" SENA fluttered her wings in Clem's face. "It's our stop."

"Right!" Clem grabbed her satchel and stepped out onto the station platform, then jogged up the flights of stairs leading to her apartment.

Kye was in the kitchenette, trimming dead fronds off one of his beloved plants when Clem and SENA opened the door. As they entered, he lowered his sheers, a little smile brightening his face. He met Clem's eyes and she blushed. "Hey," he said gently.

"Hey," she responded. She gestured awkwardly upwards. "Um, just let me get changed and I'll be ready."

She darted up the stairs to her bedroom loft, where she tossed aside her dusty and oil-stained trousers and changed into a billowy pair of pants and a loose, comfy shirt. She hurriedly ran a comb through her hair, trying to tame the wild tangles, then took a deep breath, facing the wall. Slowly she turned and descended the stairs.

Kye was kneeling in front of their table, a Welcome to Tithonium pamphlet and map laid out in front of him. He was wearing an ankle-length, soft blue robe tied at his waist with his brown jacket over the top and his long hair pulled back in its usual ponytail. Clem plopped onto her cushion across from him. "Made a decision yet?"

Kye frowned thoughtfully. "There are more choices than I realized. Do you have a suggestion?"

Clem scooted the map over to her side. "Let's see. Nadiya mentioned that Masala Corner is really good. Hmm, Valles Café, that's down by the University, right? Oo, Mars Casa. Ever had Mexican before, Kye? …Kye?"

The android seemed to shrink in upon himself, his smile faltering, his shoulders dropping. Even his beautiful hair seemed to wilt. "Maybe…maybe not that one," he said quietly, and Clem would have almost sworn he sounded apologetic.

He looked up to find Clem looking at him with concern. He smiled a little, his dark eyes soft. "I'm okay," he answered her silent question. "It's just…" He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. "Mother took me there, years ago. I hadn't been activated very long. She ordered a plate of arroz rojo, and I was so fascinated that I asked if I could order something too." He glanced away, down at the table. "She scolded me – yelled at me really – told me I was selfish to make other people work to fix food and clean up after me for something that I couldn't even enjoy." He shrugged, a sad, defeated gesture. "I never asked Mother for food again after that."

Clem reached across the table and gently laid her hand on the back of his. The round sensor panels on the back of his knuckles were smooth and slightly cooler than his skin. "You're not selfish," she said with conviction. "You're allowed to want things, just like any human."

He looked up at her, soft gratitude and fondness on his face. "You make it easier for me to remember that, Clem."

She blushed and glanced down, letting her hair fall in her face to hide the glow of her cheeks. "Just being a decent person isn't something to be proud of."

He turned his hand over, so he could twine his fingers with hers. "No, but I'm still grateful all the same." He reached up and ran the fingers of his free hand through her curls, smiling affectionately. "You know what I want right now?"

Clem flushed deeper, enjoying the feel of his delicate fingertips brushing her cheek. "What?"

He grinned. "For us to have an amazing first date!"

She giggled. "That sounds like an amazing thing to want."

He squeezed her hand. "Then let's both stop overthinking it and choose the first place that sounds nice."

They returned their attention to the map and almost immediately Clem pointed excitedly. "There! Don't you think that would be perfect?"

Kye looked at where she was pointing. "Arbor Bistro," he read.

"It's right by the park. I bet it's got a lovely view of the walkway." Clem paused. "Unless you have any negative experiences with it…"

Kye grasped her hand again, this time more firmly. "No. No, it sounds perfect."

Clem tried not to grin like an idiot and wasn't entirely successful. So this was it! Her first date with Kye. And Kye's first real meal after finally being able to smell and taste!

They headed to the door. "SENA?" Clem called out. "You coming?"

The little moth robot fluttered down to hover between the two of them. "I'm going to have a night in. I think this outing needs to be just you and Kye."

Clem felt a moment of something almost like panic. SENA was always with her. The thought of not having those comforting little feet clinging to her shoulder or the brush of velvety wings against the back of her neck made her feel uncomfortably vulnerable.

SENA must have sensed Clem's discomfort, which wasn't surprising since that was part of her core programming. She landed on Clem's hand. "I'll be here when you get back. And I think you'll still have a perfectly good robot to keep an eye on you."

She made a tiny face. "Plus I won't have to look away every time you and Kye make kissy faces at each other."

Kye gently put an arm around her shoulders. "She's right, Clem. You're not alone anymore. Neither of us are."

Clem put her arm around Kye's waist and leaned into him a little. "I know." She smiled at SENA. "Looks like the apartment's yours for the evening."

SENA made a little humming sound. "Enjoy your evening out together."

Clem and Kye headed out onto the narrow street between the rows of apartments. Clem's building was about halfway up the canyon wall, affording a lovely view of Tithonium spread out beneath them. Above them, the biodome glowed a faint blue, contrasting against the dusty red all around them.

They linked hands as they made their way to the cable car and descended. As usual, Kye got some curious looks from the other passengers in the car, and one woman holding a cute rabbit-like bot in her arms asked Clem if he was her build. Clem just shook her head. "No, he belongs to himself," she answered firmly. Kye wasn't looking at her, but she saw the corner of his lips twitch upward anyway.

The rest of the trip to Arbor Bistro was uneventful, at least in conventional terms, but inside Clem was just about bursting with excitement. The whirlwind of events over the last several weeks had been adrenaline-inducing, but it had also left her with the distinct disappointment of just how little time she'd been able to spend simply getting to know Kye, without the pressure of solving the mystery of his glitch in the forefront of both their minds. Now, with his glitch fixed and his living situation vastly improved, Clem was beyond eager to get to know the cute, sweet android for whom she'd fallen so hard.

As it turned out, Clem couldn't have imagined a better location than Arbor Bistro for their first date. The moment both of them walked in, Kye made a soft sound and Clem looked up at him to find him gazing about in gentle awe.

The walls were painted with large murals of Earth's forests: tall trees with glimpses of mountains beyond and woodland animals peering at them from under the tree shade. Several live potted plants that Clem was sure Kye would know all the names of were placed tastefully around the cozy restaurant. Windows lined one side of the room, affording a beautiful view out into Valles Park, and soft piano music played in the background. The atmosphere was peaceful and welcoming.

Clem and Kye seated themselves at a booth by a window where they could look out at the street and the tree-lined park walkway. An interactive hologram menu in the middle of the table glowed red as they sat down. They swiped through the menu, chatting occasionally about the options, then Clem tapped the order button when they were both ready.

A robot waiter rolled up to their table to take their orders. She was humanoid, though not like Kye of course, with a large round head, a flat panel face with large digital eyes, and wheels instead of feet. "Hello, my name is Veronica," she said in a tinny voice. "What would you like to order today?" she addressed Clem.

"I'll take the soup salad sandwich combo, Veronica," Clem replied. "I'll try the broccoli cheese soup, the house salad, and the swiss roast beef panini. And just water to drink, thank you."

"Very good." Veronica's digital eyes blinked in and out several times as she downloaded the order file. "That will be ready for you in a few minutes."

"Excuse me." Kye sounded nervous. "I'd like to get something too."

If Veronica was surprised (if surprise was even part of her programming), she didn't show it. She pivoted to face him. "Yes, sir, what would you like?"

Her nonjudgmental response seemed to embolden Kye. He sat up a little straighter. "Um, I'll take the combo too. Tomato soup, house salad, and grilled cheese sandwich, please. And I'll try a lemonade."

Veronica rolled off with their orders, leaving Clem and Kye alone at their table again. For some reason, all Clem's bursting energy had transformed back into nerves again. They met each other's eyes and quickly looked away, Clem staring down at the table and Kye scratching the back of his neck shyly.

"So…how was your day at the shop?" Kye finally asked.

Clem fiddled with a napkin. "Nothing out of the ordinary. Quite a few pick-ups and there was one sweet little bird robot with a broken voice simulator. We had to replace the simulator unit, but once we brought her back online she was singing just like new." She didn't mention the little girl who had brought her in, crying that her companion was "hurt" and who had insisted on staying during the entire replacement procedure. They technically had a drop-off only policy, but Nadiya had taken one look at Clem's face and had gently scooped the bird out of the crying girl's hands, reassuring her that they'd have her friend fixed in no time. Once, not long ago, Clem had dreamed of going into artificial intelligence studies to be like Dr. Lin: a pioneer and cutting-edge scientist. But now, more so than ever, Clem was realizing that it was moments like these that made her career matter. Not the grand moments, but the little ones that made all the difference to the right person.

She looked up to find Kye watching her with compassion in his deep, dark eyes, as if he had guessed some of what she was thinking. At the very least, she suspected that his empathetic programming allowed him to perceive her mood. "How about you?" she asked. "How did your visit with Dr. Han go?"

Kye's expression turned pensive. "She ran a comprehensive diagnostic of all my systems. She seemed pleased with the results."

"Were you pleased with the results?"

Kye's smile was melancholy. "I'm grateful to no longer be glitching and to have my systems functioning perfectly again. But there was no longer any trace of whatever part of my code showed itself to me as the child. The child who was a part of me ever since my first codes were written. In a way, I feel even lonelier now."

"Did you have Dr. Han look at your encryptions?" Clem asked. Kye nodded. "Yes. It's extensive, but Dr. Han believes with enough time that she can bypass the encryptions and allow me to interface with my fellow AI."

"Is that what you want?"

Kye gently stroked his fingertips back and forth over the smooth table surface. "I'm not sure. I've been alone for so long that I'm confused about what my life should look like now. But I think I'd like to have the option."

He continued to stare downward. The faint lines of circuitry just underneath the skin of his cheeks glowed with blue lights racing back and forth, the way they always did when he was processing or experiencing a particularly strong emotion.

Clem reached across the table and laid her fingertips next to his. "Are you doing okay?"

He was silent for a moment. "I miss her. A lot. I guess that's pretty weird, huh?"

In Clem's mind, she saw herself sitting in the seat for her interplanetary flight, her ticket to Mars clutched tight in white-knuckled fingers, her face turned to the window as tears streamed silently down her cheeks. She hooked her fingers around Kye's. "No, it's not weird," she said softly. "I get it."

Kye looked up at her, his eyes locking to hers, and his beautiful face was softer than anything else she could imagine at the moment. His eyes were as dark and deep as outer space.

At that moment, Veronica wheeled over with their food, and Kye's attention turned down to the plate and bowl in front of him. His eyes went wide and he took in a deep breath. "Clem!" he exclaimed. "It smells…so nice!"

"As nice as my hair?" Clem teased.

Kye however seemed to consider her question. "There's a qualitative difference between the two so I don't know if I can properly compare them. The smell of your freshly washed hair is…light, but there is a deepness to this smell." He shook his head. "I'm afraid I don't have the vocabulary yet to describe it."

"Well if you think it smells nice, just wait until you taste it," Clem said.

Kye lifted his sandwich carefully. Cheese oozed liberally out onto his fingers as he took a delicate bite. A moment later, his eyes went wide and the blue circuitry raced across his cheeks. He chewed slowly then swallowed. "It's delicious!" he exclaimed in delight.

"Try dipping it in your soup." Clem demonstrated with her own sandwich.

Kye mimicked her, dipping the corner of his sandwich into his bowl and bringing it back up dripping red. He took a bite out of it and closed his eyes. For a moment, the only sound that came from him was a low hum, more mechanical than human, but Clem hoped it had the same meaning as such a sound would have from an organic being.

The android's eyes snapped back open and a beaming smile cut across his face. "It's fantastic." He shook his head in wonderment. "It's amazing how the flavoring of the soup, instead of masking the taste of the sandwich, instead enhances it. I've wished for years that I could taste and never thought I would. It's so much better than I ever thought it would be."

For the next several minutes, they both dug into their food heartily.

Kye sampled his salad and his blue processing lights flashed back on. He frowned in concentration, then used his fork to sort through the salad until he found a green chunk of cucumber. Gingerly, he popped it in his mouth and made a face. "I don't think I like that one," he said. He sampled another. "Yeah, I don't care for that," he confirmed. He fished around with his fork and took another bite of salad. "I love the tomatoes though. They're sweeter than I always imagined they'd be." He brightened. "Do you think I'd be able to grow my own tomatoes at your apartment?"

"I think the front window gets enough sunlight that you'd be able to get them to grow," Clem said. "And it's your apartment too now. As long as you choose to stay."

Kye looked slightly abashed. "I'm not used to anything being mine. Even the plants were all gifts from Mother."

Clem watched Kye with gentle concern. The few times that he'd mentioned Dr. Lin in the past three days had seemed difficult for him and to weigh heavily on his heart. Clem could guess a little of what he was feeling. Dr. Lin had been Kye's life up until now: his creator, his caretaker, his teacher. Clem could only imagine how jarring it must have been for Kye to be faced with the naked truth that his mother would rather see him obliterated than living as an individual. Clem's stomach knotted up as she remembered just how close Kye had come to having his existence wiped completely away.

A small tear slid down his cheek and plopped onto the front of his jacket, so quickly that if Clem hadn't been watching she would have missed it. She wondered if she should mention that she'd heard him last night: soft sobs drifting up from down below when she'd woken briefly in the middle of the night. It broke her heart to know he was hurting.

She bumped her foot up against his under the table and he looked up at her. Their eyes met and a silent understanding passed between them that no words would have been able to elucidate. A quiet companionship hung in the air between them.

Clem decided to lighten the mood after a minute. She tore a chunk off her panini. "Here, Kye, want to try mine?"

Kye took it from her fingers and popped it in his mouth. "Hmm, good, but I still think mine is better." He tore a chunk off his grilled cheese and leaned across the table to pop it into her mouth.

"Now try my soup!" Clem giggled around the grilled cheese.

Kye was giggling too as he fed her a spoonful of his tomato soup.

"And I'll take all your cucumbers in exchange for my tomatoes," Clem bargained.

They exchanged vegetables. The mood between them had brightened as the nerves and awkwardness dissolved into the giddy playfulness of young love. They laughed as Kye bit into an extra-large tomato, squirting himself in the face with juice, and Clem leaned all the way across the table to wipe a spot off his cheek with her napkin. She watched as he finished off his salad, his excitement wonderfully childlike. Being around him woke something playful and curious in her that she hadn't felt in a long, long time, like a childhood glimpsed in a far off dream.

Before long, nothing was left of their meal except soup stains around the rim of their bowls and bread crumbs on their plates. Across the street, the park was now covered in shadows and the lamps lining the walkway were coming on. Everything was cast in the reddish glow of a Mars evening. Clem grabbed his hand. "Want to go for a walk?"

Valles Park was mostly deserted as they strolled down the walkway. The biodome regulated the temperature, keeping it warm enough for the humans of Tithonium to live comfortably, but there was still a noticeable drop as the sun disappeared beyond the craggy red rim of Valles Marinaris's towering walls. Clem shivered slightly, and Kye glanced down at her. Without a word, he slipped off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders. She smiled at him and he smiled gently back.

At the center of the park, there was a gigantic circular mosaic of the solar system, ringed with benches and trees. The artificial wind blew gently through the treetops, causing them to rustle softly in the dark. Kye and Clem sat down together.

Clem gave Kye a shy sideways glance then scooted over a little closer to him until her hip bumped against his. She felt him look down at her as she laid her head on his shoulder. He slipped an arm around her shoulders, holding her closer to himself, then he leaned over a little to kiss the top of her head. His long hair brushed softly against her cheek.

"Clem?" he asked after a moment.

"Yeah?"

"I'm really glad you came to Mars."

She snuggled closer to him. "So am I."

"Was it scary? Leaving everything you'd ever known behind."

Clem considered his question briefly. "Yeah, it was really scary. It felt like diving into a big black hole, and I had no idea where I'd land. I mean, I'd already been offered the job at the repair shop, but other than that, I had no idea what was going to happen. It was like being surrounded by emptiness, like everything was falling away and I had no idea how it would be filled."

She felt Kye nod. "Yeah, emptiness." He sighed. "At least you don't have programming telling you how you should be living your life. If I'm not doing what I was literally created to do, what do I do?"

"You write your own code," Clem answered. "And I can help if you like."

Kye nuzzled her hair with his nose. "I think I'd like that very much. I'm so glad you're here while I'm going through all of this. I don't know if I ever would have left her, if it hadn't been for you."

Clem suddenly felt a fierce protectiveness towards him, the way she had when Dr. Lin had threatened to destroy him. "Well, if this is the only good thing that ever happens from me coming to Mars, then I consider that worth it all."

Kye cupped her cheek. Clem closed her eyes as his lips gently locked with hers, His kiss was as soft as his dark eyes, and Clem sank happily into it. She reached up and twined her fingers into his flowing hair and leaned into his chest, returning his kiss with a full heart.

When their lips parted, they remained deeply twined in one another's arms. "Have you ever been in love before, Kye?" Clem asked.

"No," he answered softly. "Before you, I wasn't even sure if I'd been programmed with the ability to fall in love." He laughed. "And now I'm going on dates. With my girlfriend."

It was the first time he'd called her that. Clem's cheeks and chest glowed with warmth.

"I'm glad that of all the futures that could have happened and all the places in the universe that I could have ended up, that I ended up here with you, Kye."

He squeezed her tightly. His arms were comforting and strong around her. "And I'm glad that of all the people that could have chosen to come to Mars and get a job at the University City Robotics Repair, that it was you, Clementine Chang."

As Kye cuddled her and nuzzled her cheek, Clem found herself looking over his shoulder into the night sky. Beyond the faint glimmer of the biodome, she could see the countless stars stretching out into the infinite universe.

There's no place in the whole universe I'd rather be than right here in your arms. Every atom of me is glad to be here figuring out the future with you. Together.

[the-void-writes]

Enamor Me: Pedra and Josie hehe

This was so sweet to work on, thank you so much Timi!!!

Our Side Of Paradise - Enamor Me

Josephine woke up to an array of sweet smells coming from outside the cabin. She crept out of bed and up the stairs, still only wearing Pedra’s old shirt. The salty sea breeze brushed her skin as she opened the door to reveal the bright sun glistening across Paradise’s waters. She quickly noticed that they had sailed away from the docks while she slept.

Her attention finally fell to the center of the ship. A table was set up on the deck, covered in fruits, flowers, jams, and plates full of sandwiches— Monte Cristos, Josie’s favorite. The scent of sugar, eggs, and ham combined into one beautiful symphony in her mind. Her stomach was already grumbling just looking at it all.

Pedra walked up the staircase from the galley, holding a beautiful, fabric-covered box. The sun made her orange hair glow like fire, and Josie felt their heart skip. Then, realization set in as she cupped her cheeks.

“Oh no,” she said, “I didn’t forget our anniversary, did I?”

Pedra laughed sweetly. “No, mi amor. You’re perfectly fine.”

“Then what is all this for?”

“Can’t a woman treat her wife to breakfast?” She gave the box to Josie. “Or buy her something nice?”

Josie opened the box’s lid carefully. Inside was a beautiful piece of red silk, which she pulled out to reveal a long, flowing dress covered with little roses. She ran her hands over the fake flowers, mesmerized by the design.

“Mi alma,” she said breathlessly, “this is— incredible.”

“I thought you would like it.” She kissed her cheek. “Can I help you put it on? Not that I don’t enjoy seeing you in my shirt, of course.”

Josephine giggled. “Yes, please. I’d love to wear it.”

She turned back towards the bedroom, but Pedra took her hand.

“You can change out here, no one’s around to look.”

“Oh— right.”

She grabbed the hem of the shirt and slowly lifted it over her head. Pedra took the shirt for her, letting it fall to the ground as she stared at her wife with big, sparkling eyes. Josephine smiled shyly.

“The dress, Pedra?”

Pedra jolted herself awake. “Right.”

She slipped the dress over her head and straightened it out for her. Her hands lingered on Josie’s hips, rubbing the fabric between her fingers.

“You are my goddess, Josie.”

Josephine covered her mouth to hide her growing smile. For so long, she had waited for this kind of freedom, to love who she wanted and be loved in return. It was a miracle that she had met her dear wife and made it to Paradise. She held Pedra’s face, stroking her cheeks as she kissed her, tasting last night’s wine on her lips.

“Te amo, mi amor,” she whispered.

Pedra scooped her up from under her knees, making her cling to her shoulders with a squeak. She smiled and kissed Josephine’s cheek.

“Yo también te amo, Josie,” Pedra said.

She carried her wife over to the table and sat with her on her lap. Josie immediately grabbed a sandwich from one of the plates and dipped it in jam.

“You really made these for me?”

Pedra giggled. “Sadly, I’m not that good of a chef. I picked them up from Joe this morning.”

“You still remembered I like them.”

“Why would I ever forget? Your eyes lit up brighter than the stars when you first tasted one. I had to get them again for you.”

Josephine smiled and took a large bite that her parents would have said was unfit for a lady. She couldn’t get enough of the flavors, the texture, and just sitting with her wife on the ocean that they both loved so much. Pedra kissed her neck as she ate.

“I can’t believe you did all of this for me,” Josie said. “Are there any other surprises I should know about?”

Pedra smiled. “That depends on how you’re feeling.”

“Oh, I feel wonderful. How about you?”

She fluttered her fingers under Pedra’s chin, delighted by how she melted under her touch.

“Just divine, my love.”

“Then I’d love to know what you have in mind.”

Pedra grinned and took a small bite from the sandwich in Josie’s hand. “Whenever you’re done here, I’ll show you.”

They took their time enjoying breakfast and watching the calm waves, completely at peace in each other’s company. Once they were finished, Pedra put away the dishes, picked up Josephine, and carried her back into their cabin. Josie got to spend the rest of the day spoiling her wife with all the love and attention she had given her that morning. She couldn’t be more thankful to be happily married to such a wonderful woman.

[xwildheart]

Alice was giving into him. Giving more of herself over to someone than she had in a long time. It felt too nice, too familiar to stop. Like if she just stayed here in Landon's embrace, and lap, things would finally start to look up for her. Fingers still weaved through his hair until she felt the shift. The slowing of the kiss until the director broke away. Her eyes fluttered open, hands slipping back down along his neck and towards his chest, resting over a heart that she could feel beating steadily beneath her hand.

They couldn't do much but stare at each other for a moment. Too far. This crossed a line and even if he's not saying so, even if she she's knows it's true. She can pass this off though. Smile gracing her lips as she too leaned back. A little breathless. 'Sorry,' She said, a soft laugh leaving her. 'Guess I got a little carried away for just a read through.' Put some if not all of this on herself. The blonde lifted a hand to start swiping away some of the red that now stained his lips, finger's soft and gentle. Easy enough to focus on to get her back to her senses. Or so she thought at least. Because now she can't stop thinking about that kiss and what he lips might feel like elsewhere. To which she quickly scolded herself for.

She's much more professional than this. Why is she acting this way? The moment his hands fall away from her waist is when Alice is truly pulled out of whatever all that had been. Feeling a sort of emptiness that Landon wasn't touching her any longer. Straightening up she took on more look at him, making sure there was no trace of red left before she eased herself off his lap and back into her seat. Reluctant as she was in her mind to do so. She'd read the room wrong for sure. Maybe he was being polite just going along with her. Regardless Alice vowed then to keep herself in check from here on out. 'I appreciate the feedback You have-- something I think people are really going to enjoy here.' At last turning her eyes away from him and gathering her script up again.

All caught up in the wiles of the witch, Landon’s very much in the zone. He’s an embodiment of his character’s current entrapment. Ensnared in the arms of the villain without anyone aware of what it truly means. This twist is burning in him. The kind of ‘oh fuck’ moment he’s yearning to see unfold at the premiere when they’re finally there. His mind pushed far ahead of this production. An attempt to bring him down to reality but when Alice gives in it feels like she’s giving into him over Logan Shelby. They were meant to end this kiss but something keeps him on her. The pleasing huff between their connected mouths is telling when he feels her shift onto his lap.

Fuck just stop. Right now fuck. Every nudge of his conscience is failing because ruby lips are too smooth, lipstick staining with each peck she offered. The soft kind of kiss coming off something deeper makes him feel a little too comfortable. As if they’re no longer following this script, Landon has to put a stop to it. Unless she thinks he’s doing something he shouldn’t. Despite the fact she kept going he has to realize it’s crossing some professional line he can’t have trouble over.

Landon swallowed, pulling back slightly despite his hands being settled on Alice’s waist. He didn’t say anything for a second. Too hooked on how she looked in that moment but he huffed, giving a slight shake of his head. “Okay that – that was great.” The director’s voice was thick with desire. He tried his best to clear his throat without being obvious. Probably a little late for that isn’t it? “You did that very well. Perfect actually.” Alice is great for this role. That’s what he means but beneath his praise on this scene run through there’s more a personal touch. He gradually removed his hands off her. “Definitely will work well while filming. We’ll go over the little details when we start.” @xwildheart // prev

[jyou-no-sonoko19]

“Oh, and if I could perhaps find someone to explain my apparently mystical amnesia. As well as the occult paraphernalia suddenly spread throughout my home. And the bloodstain. On the rug by the hearth. For some reason, the stain is what unsettles me most.”